Lissa-Like It-Or-Love It

My Daddy: Allen
1941-2008

It has been 2 years today since I last felt your arms around me. However,you are still ever so present in my thoughts. You are the greatest man I have ever known & I am going to share with my bloggy friends, what I wrote in celebration of your life, 2 years ago. Not a day goes by daddy.. I miss you..I love you..hope I am still making you proud. You are the reason I wish to Live in a "House By The Side Of The Road" (by Sam Walter Foss) and be a friend to man
Forever your little girl,
XOXO "Big sissy"

Today is a beautiful, joyous day. It is so because I get to talk about my father, Allen and the extremely abnormal family I grew up in. Now I know what you are thinking. That I am crazy. Or quite possibly over or under medicated. However please hear me out & I think you will understand.

I grew up watching the Brady Bunch & reruns of Father Knows Best , Leave It To Beaver & My 3 Sons .I loved these shows. In fact ,I thought they represented real life. What I didn’t realize was that this was far from the truth. My family wasn’t like other families.
My father wasn’t like other fathers.

When other men needed a son first, to feel like a real man, my father thought it would be great to blessed with a daughter. My brother & sister were the bonus babies

When other men viewed marriage as nothing but a piece of paper, my father loved & respected my mother & stayed committed to her for 44 years.

When other men were content to work when they felt like it. Or not work at all, my father got up every day to make sure we were provided for.

While other men were out drinking & carousing, my father was having dinner with his family & playing a game of monopoly, almost every night.

While other men took out their anger on their wives & their children, my fathers wrapped his arms around us & held us tight.

When other fathers walked away, my father helped us with homework & tucked us in at night.

While other men turned their backs on others because of their size, color or differences, my father was a friend to all that he met.

While other men said I am powerful I need no one, my father said “As for me & my house we shall serve the Lord.”


In a world where sadly, dysfunctional is now standard. & what should be is not, I had the fantasy. I grew up in the most wonderful, beautiful, fantastic, abnormal family you could ever meet. I had a dad that loved , honored & respected his family. Who also knew the importance of friendship. He loved his best friends Richard and Ralph. Our families hung out every weekend. Having pizza, swimming in the pool & doing things every family should do. Dad loved his brother Bill & his wife Pat, he liked to spend time with them & vacation with them. Last year they went on a cruise. He said it was one of the best times he & my mom had in his life. He loved his nephews, especially their sense of humor, which he was certain they inherited from him.. Family was everything to my dad. He loved being called POPPA. He loved the grandkids & was close to all of them. He loved talking sports, religion & politics with Bo-Bo picking up a guitar with Easy-E, A’s boundless energy, MJ’s creativity, Bubbles’s homemade cards & hugs & DD's ability to know when to wow the crowd or just be there for one, much like himself. He loved working in the garage & weekly home depot trips with his son-in-law Gene. And having great conversations with my sister-in-law Gladys. If he could work her into making him some pumpkin bread or coconut cake, then life was truly sweet. He loved his neighbors, his coworkers & his fellow man. He was a Redskin Fan in a field of Buccaneers, Cowboys, Dolphins, Packers & Steelers, who loved game & more importantly loved to talk Smack. He was a moderate who raised a conservative, bleeding heart liberal, & one who changed her mind depending on the tides, ties & the weather. He had a faith that could move mountains, a witty& wacky sense of humor & a way of driving a certain waitresses crazy every Friday morning(along with the breakfast club) He thought it was perfectly OK to use a chainsaw & lawnmower at 7:30 in the morning on a weekend ( for the record I think there should be a law against that), took the meaning of “one man’s trash is another mans treasure” to a whole new level, & if there wasn’t already a “Stairway to Heaven” I am positive he could have built one. There wasn’t a picture of Dolly Parton he didn’t like, a Hog he didn’t admire ( & I don’t mean the bacon), or a bluegrass channel he couldn’t find on the radio to torture his teenage daughter with on the long drives home when we lived in the country. He was known as Allen, Elwood, , Droopy Drawers, The LawnMan & Mr. Neatly. Yet To us he was just Dad. He called us Buzz Jr & Big Sissy & of course mom, his beloved Baby Duck. It was her hand he held until it was time to let go & then he took the hand of our beautiful sister, Tooter who led him into the light.

He was my Hercules, Hee Haw, Homer Simpson & my Hero. He was my Father & my Friend. Because of him I know, feel, & try to live my life with unconditional love.

Kahlil Gibran said
When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy. When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.


The bible says-Psalm 30:5
"Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning”

Though my heart aches because I miss him already- Today is a beautiful, joyous, day. For to know Allen is to have loved him. And as Daddy said to me on my wedding day:
My cup runneth over, & I am blessed.