Here's To You, Dad: HuffPost Readers Share Their Father's Day Stories

On Thursday, we asked for your stories about your dads affected your lives. We were truly touched by some of the submissions we received. Read on (and Happy Father's Day!):

One Father's Day, I was sitting with my father watching my 12-year-old son, Michael, mow Dad's backyard on a riding mower, something he had ridden only once before. Michael was having fun and doing a very good job.

As I watched, I said to my Dad that I was glad that Michael had no trace of the Cerebral Palsy that I have. I struggle with coordination and fine motor skills, Michael is just fine physically. I said as much to my father and said, " He is really a miracle."

"No," my father said, "You're the miracle. You are a minister, husband, and father of two. You're the miracle." Having pushed me hard to overcome to the point we were at odds most of my youth and the fact that I didn't talk for many years, my father's words were a gift of grace. It was a healing moment and an expression of love. I still remember that moment and it warms my heart, even though I lost him 8 years ago.

Stephen Brown, Urbana, OH

My father didn't just give me life; he protected my life. During the Khmer Rouge period, one of the most odious regimes in the world, he refrained from eating so that I had enough to eat. He lied to the cadres about my age so that they would not take me to be their child soldier. He would always find a way to protect and provide for his family.

His quest for freedom and prosperity brought us to the United States of America in 1981. He often reminds me to work hard and to never give up hope, even though he gave up hope when his siblings and father were murdered by the Khmer Rouge soldiers.

Thank you, dad, for everything you have done for your family!

Story continues below

Sambath Meas, Schaumburg, Illinois

My father lost his dad when he was only a year old. My grandfather was kidnapped returning home from work during the Korean War and never returned. To this day, we can only guess what had happened to him.

Despite my dad's outstanding grades and strong desire to attend college, he had to give up his dream to support his mother. Not being able to go to college is his only regret. He reads like a mad man. He writes beautifully. He is intelligent, curious and engaged. I admire that about him. He has encouraged me and my sibling to learn as much as we want about whatever we want. He never pressured us to pursue money or prestige, always telling us 'follow your heart and I'll do anything to support you.' He offered us complete freedom to be ourselves and I realized how invaluable of a gift that was to me growing up.

He is the gentlest person on earth. Never has he raised his voice at me. Ever. He writes me letters on my birthday... to this day. He randomly yells out "I love you daughter, I love you son." even though it gives him goosebumps from embarrassment. It is very cute to see. What is remarkable about my father is that after migrating to America, he worked 365 days a year at his small business for twenty years to support and provide for us, all without a complaint.

Now that I am nearing thirty and am able to see my father as a person, rather than just as my dad, I see him in a different light. Rising above the obstacles, he remained a good son, became a good husband and a wonderful father.

He is turning sixty this year and I wish I could do something special for him to show all of my appreciation, admiration and love for him. I want to tell him that it is not too late to do what he wants. He can go to college if he wants. I want to give him what he gave me - the freedom and ability to dream.

Age is nothing but a number, dad. You're the greatest father and I am so glad you are mine.

Jinnie Namgung, Seattle, WA

This Father's Day story is about Jim, my son-in-law. He is the father of a very beautiful, highly intelligent two and a half year old. He could make more money, especially since my daughter is a great home Mom. But he wants to be back at night for his son and gets home at 5:30. My grandson is so excited to see his Dad, who plays imaginatively and exuberantly with him, making up magical games and indulging in meta-conversations! Then Dad is the one who gives his son a bath, where conversations and games continue with intense mutual involvement. Later, Mom and Dad read stories, picked out by my grandson, and both read to him at bedtime, teaching him how to brush his teeth in the mix. Then my grandson gets to pick who puts him to bed - almost always Daddy. The other evening Dad took him to the park. I was on the phone with my daughter and heard them come home - and the very excited, exhilarated voice of the little one "Mommy, I saw bird tracks and birds and ants. So cool." Daddy makes his son a very happy, curious, beloved little boy. I am deeply grateful.

Lucille Barish, New York, NY

My father died on June 8, 2009. He was 89 years old.

This is what I would have liked to say at my dad's memorial service, but I knew I couldn't get through it. So I gave the notes to the minister and he made them a part of his homily.

Son, brother, husband, father, grandfather, great-grandfather, great-great-grandfather!
Gardener, camper, boater, builder.
Motorcycle enthusiast - at age 60!!
Loyal, trusting and trustworthy.
Helpful and a true helpmate.
He was a good and sensitive and gentle man.

He was one of the good guys - a gentle, patient, and forgiving giant of a man, about 6'6" and 235lb at his prime. (The day he died, he weighed 112 pounds!) He was my hero, my rock, the one I always turned to when I was feeling down or blue. To me, he hung the moon and put the stars in the sky. He had his faults, but they were minor compared to his positive attributes. No one in my life - until my husband - has come even near to being as wonderful as my Daddy.

He wrote me a letter in 2004, shortly before his 60th wedding anniversary. In it, he said "I am nothing special, of this I am sure. I am a common man with common thoughts and I have led a common life. There are no monuments dedicated to me and my name will soon be forgotten, but I have loved the same woman for 60 years, along with our two daughters, and to me, this has been enough."

It was more than enough. My sister and I have enough memories to sustain us for the rest of our lives, and in our hearts, he will never be far away.

Nancy Laird, Rio Rancho, NM

My dad taught me to have a larger world-view. From his teenage years, throughout his life, he was a stamp collector. Letters would arrive from all over the world, and he and his stamp collector buddies were real friends.

Dad taught me how to organize and care for something as tiny as a stamp. He soaked his stamps until they came loose, and tenderly lifted them from the letter and put them onto a blotter. Then Next he'd mount them, not with glue, but with special hinges. As he worked, he would tell me something about each country and each leader. He knew the politics of those countries.

When WWII came along, he got drafted. He didn't pretend to be unafraid. He said, "No, we WERE afraid. We knew we might never come back, but we still went." No fake bravado for my dad. He taught me how to tell the truth.

My dad worked in the office where they planned D-Day, and I heard about "Operation Overlord" even as a small child. My father documented his tour of duty with amazing slides of all the bombed out buildings. "After my initial fear subsided," he shared, "I realized if that bomb didn't have my name on it, I'd be just fine. That helped me less afraid, and I actually enjoyed being in England after all." Dad taught me how to conquer my fears.

My dad was a great scout leader, and to this very day, men will come up to me and tell me, "It was your dad who taught me how to fish." He took the entire troop of boys up to Canada on fishing expeditions, and became a father figure to so many. During those years, he helped several become Eagle Scouts.

My dad taught me patience. He taught me the joy of just hanging out together. "You don't always have to go somewhere and be entertained," he'd tell us. "It's great to be home together." After a meal, he'd pull back from the table, and tell us jokes and stories. He taught me to make memories with my kids.

My dad taught us to go for the gold, and make something of our lives. His faith inspired me, and I shall never forget his faithfulness to his wife and family. Dad was a true American hero and wonderful mentor. He read all the time, and knew just what was going on in the world. He knew a lot about the economy, and warned us not to spend more than we make. He didn't believe that "only certain people" should be rich. He didn't go for "trickle-down economics" at all. He just didn't believe it worked. He believed we all should share what God gives us.

This was a man who was humble, kind, loyal, and who worked hard all his life. He left us ten years ago. I wish we could give him a 21-gun salute. I miss him so.

Cheryl Peters Buxamusa, Youngstown, Ohio

Comments

[illusionpainter]

I just found out last week that my 65 yr. old father is going to die. He had prostate cancer 3 yrs. ago and the doctors thought he had a good chance it would never come back after he responded well to treatment and there was no visible trace of it. It has now come back. That type of cancer adheres to bone when it returns. He has it in 25 areas of his bones throughout his entire body. He has 3 children, two step children, 16 grandchildren and 1 great grandson. He lives clear across the country from his three children, 12 grandchildren and great grandson; so, we don't get to see him much. I just want him to know we are always with him no matter the distance and we love you dad.....

[RRonin]

My biological father abandoned my mother when she became pregnant with me. She raised me by herself, with the help of her aunt. I grew up in a houseful of women and it has shaped me for good and for bad. The good part is that I love women and have great empathy for them. I relate well with women. I am a supervisor in an office with several young women working there and they love me like their favorite uncle. This has also made me a success as a husband. I have been happily married for 26 years now and we have never had a fight, neither a cruel word nor stony silence. My wife and I delight in each other's company and pine when we are apart. On the negative side, I have never been able to form any friendships with men. I don't count a single man among my close friends (many aquaintances, no friends). I guess that's a kind of deficiency that developed along the way. I don't know if it's really bad or good, it's simply the way it is. But I hear about male friendships and wonder if I missed anything.

[jolitahope]

My father passed away in his sleep 11 years ago, and I still miss him so much. I was definitely a daddy's girl... he went to every soccer, volleyball, softball and basketball game that I was ever in. He even traveled out of town with the other moms... he was the only dad there. One of my best memories is him being kicked out of one of my soccer games for yelling at the ref! Even though he swore that it was Michelle's dad that was yelling! My dad was the kind of guy that never met a stranger and could make friends with anyone. He realized what was important in life. Once before my brother and I came along, he and my mother called in sick to work for a week and drove from Memphis to Niagara Falls just because they wanted to see what it looked like in the winter. Memories and spending time with family is what mattered most. He was a great guy! And even though I was adopted at 7 weeks of age and didn't have any of his DNA, I am most proud when people tell me that they can see my dad in me! I hope he's playing cards and cooking up some wonderful Italian food up in heaven! I miss him so.

[phinney]

i haven't seen my dad in over 13 years. he hurt me terribly and i just could not expose my young son to all that pain and confusion. it's been a long time and i really miss him. he might not even be alive....

[mamacat]

My Dad was fantastic. I feel sorry for people who didn't have someone as great as him in their lives. I also feel that it is almost impossible to measure up to him, but he kept saying, just do the best you can, and don't sweat the small stuff.

[Whitley2009]

Might I give a piece of advice to our fathers on HF. My adult children live out-of-town, and I live alone. One thing that has recently supplied some richness to my relationship with my kids is Skype. The service is free. With it installed on your PC with broadband Internet, you can video conference your kids anytime, anywhere. With a good webcam and a 22 inch screen, I get a great picture of my kids. Skype is wonderful. Parents and kids all over the world are now seeing each other for the first time in years. Talk with your kids and grand kids about it.

Ebay owns Skype. I intend to make it a part of my business operations also.

[mamacat]

I have heard others rave about this Skype thing. Our children live close by, so we don't feel like we need it.

[dukesman]

Yeah, my dad was/is a bum. Only saw him three times in my life.

I will not make the same mistake with son.

[Whitley2009]

I had the same experience you had. I made sure my son and daughter did not have the same load dumped on them. I had a nice Father's Day with mine, hope yours was nice also.

[daffey]

My Dad, a former railroad engineer, was always that tower of strength while I was growing up. On the end side of the WWII, generation, he brought that sense of ‘can do/don’t whine’ attitude in everything he did. Never one to ask for help, he was more likely to give it. He worked hard, and was never satisfied with anything less than perfection. Not prone to overt displays of affection, or necessarily open to long conversations (though he loved to tell stories of his days growing up), he nevertheless made it clear he loved my sister and me, and did what he could the best way he knew how. He never had much of a life as a child, his family split up during the depression, his father an alcoholic and very, very abusive. My Dad made sure our lives were everything his wasn’t. He’s still with us, but age and Alzheimer’s are quickly tearing away at that fortress of confident and quiet strength I always knew I could rely on. Perhaps more than anything, and this goes for my Mom, no matter what he did, or what mistakes he made, I knew he cared for us first, and he did it because he thought it was best. We were not a hindrance or a charm for his own popularity poll. He loved us for us, and nothing else. And I’ve learned that makes a huge difference in the life of a child. Thanks Dad.

[Sportswoman]

My pops used to sneak away from his north Philly home and take the train to Harlem to hear Cab Calloway. I was the only white baby whose dad sang her to sleep with "Is You Is or Is You Ain't My Baby?"He later moved with my widowed grandmother and uncle to the south side of Chicago, opening up a liquor store that Capone would send his men into to make sure my dad was using his distributors. He told me of having seen Dillingers' body on the theatre steps where the CPD left it as a cautionary tale for citizens to view. Dad wanted to join the navy and see the world but his eyesight failed the physical. That same day he was drafted into the army, and was on maneuvers when he broke his fibula. While recuperating in a Dublin hospital, his entire regiment was killed in Italy. In the hospital a Lt.. discovered he spoke numerous languages as my grandma was from eastern Europe so he was made an interpreter and assigned to the Special forces. Some of the memorabilia he lifted from Nazis is in the Museum of Tolerance. RIP Pops.

[Steamboater]

My father was a serial alcoholic who was violent with both my mother and me, One time he even tried to throw me out a window. There were good times but it's the worst times that stay with me. He had several ghosts though and one was a sister I never knew about who tried to kill my sister when my sister was a baby so my aunt was put into an institution for the rest of her life. I never knew she even existed until I was in my 30's and and my older sister told me. My father was also a Jew and during the Depression he was the only Jew a bank hired as a teller because banks just didn't hire Jews.

As for me, as a father, I'm not a father any more. My lover of 24 years died and the 2 kids he adopted 6 years prior to his death were taken from me the day after he died and put back into foster care. The worst thing I can hear someone say is, "Happy father's day".

[impatient]

My father was a violent alcoholic too. But the worst part about him is that he was so unpredictable---the tiniest thing could set him off, something that wasn't even anything, and then wham, out of the blue, he'd hit you so hrad you'd fall against stairs, or a wall, or whatever. He was brutal and mean.

But he also was somebody who loved deeply. He jut couldn't remember that he loved deeply. He never really realized how much his rages affected us. He could see us cry, but it got to be so commonplace, I don't think he thought much of it.

He was insensitive and selfish and just plain cruel.

But I haven't forgotten the good parts. There were good parts. My mother still hates him, even now, almost 5 years after he died. She relishes that hatred for him.

And I guess I want to tell you if you allow yourself to remember the good parts, the bad parts will reced. They'll never go away. In a way it's better that way. But keep yourself open to the good......

[lungfish]

Here is a great video about a fathers love...

http://www.tangle.com/view_video.php?viewkey=8cf08faca5dd9ea45513

[jeplanet]

My Dad read to me all the time; Charlotte's Web, Stuart Little, James and the Giant Peach. When I learned to read, we would take turns; he would read a page , then I would and so on.
He put a record player in my room when I was 4 and taught me how to care for my records; Neil Young, The Guess Who, Billy Joel.
He would come into my room during a lightning storm and say "wow" and "cool" when the lightning flashed, so I wouldn't be afraid of it.
He taught me to play crib by age 7, and I probably beat him 5 out of 2000 games as an adult.
He was the funniest person I ever knew, and he always laughed at my jokes.
I really miss him. My Dad was awesome.
Happy Father's Day!!

[Diogenis]

A sad commentary on how few responses this received.

[AgathaX]

My son has no father. I adopted him when he was 9. He needed a home and, for better or for worse, I was what there was. So on his birth certificate there is only one parent--me. One time the security guard at school asked him about his dad. He said he didn't have one. The guard assumed he just didn't have much of a relationship with his dad and persisted. My son told him he was adopted and had none, just to end the conversation. The guard said he was sorry.

We do fine. Better than fine most of the time. He's a great kid. He has men in his life, in many ways more supportive than many of the dysfunctional fathers out there. But he will never have a father like other kids have fathers. Not even one that lives in another state that he visits on summer break.

[topkatnc]

My Father was a alcoholic...A weekend drinker...He never lost his job......He went to AA all through life and when I got my driving license I would take him...The proudest I was of my Father happened when I was about nine years old...It was a Sunday morning and my Mother was cooking breakfast...My Mom ask me what I wanted and I said pancakes...Well we had no syrup...There was a store about 3 tenths of a mile from our home...Being the youngest and Daddy's girl my Father took off for the syrup....Well what would take no more that 15 minutes turned to 30 min and everyone thought that Daddy had taken the car and went drinking.....I felt so bad...I blamed my self for wanting the pancakes....35 min. hit and in walked my Dad....He said he was so sorry that it took him so long...Mr. Gardner was late in opening the store...I remember going to church that moring and I was so proud of my Dad....I miss him....