I'm just a normal girl crazy in love with my Husband George, love to travel and eat... and usually fail at losing and keeping weight off... We never wanted kids of our own but we adore our nieces and nephews. We are also huge movie buffs who enjoy going to advanced screenings to see most movies before they're released. My life is fun.... Full of family and friends and a while lot of laughs.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Remembering my Dad on his birthday!
Here I am with my Daddy at my first Christmas 1969... I was already a Daddy's Girl.
My first Christmas with my Mom and Dad... I was an only child for a little while... LOL
The Day in 1976 when my Dad became a US Citizen... I was 7 years old.
My Dad joking with me while doing the yard work... and yes, that's my sexy George in the background without his shirt... LOL. I think it was 2000 or 2001
My Dad loved his beer, I know it's a shocking trait for a German... Huh?
I'm keeping up with this bandiversary month at least one post a day... So far. Well, today would have been my Dad's 73rd birthday but we lost him to Pancreatic Cancer 8 years ago... He was an amazing man, He was born in Romania as a German citizen... He and his family were chased from their home there by the Russians at the very start of World War 2. They were forced to leave almost everything behind and what valuables they had left were taken from them on the road when they were attacked and robbed by a band of gypsies. My Dad's Mom, my MomMom had the earrings ripped from her earlobs and the snake tongue looking tears remained as a daily reminder of what they had gone through... When they got to Germany, the war got worse and they took my PopPop to a Work Camp and my MomMom and the kids to a Displaced person camp... Even though they were German citizens, being born in another country and living there made them displaced. They lived in a one room shack with 3 other families and used sheets as walls for privacy. My Aunts were taken to join the Hitler youth, since they didn't believe what Hitler had been saying and did not want to leave their family, while on the train, My Aunt Anne faked an attack of appendicitis, she bent over in pain wailing until the took her to hospital and removed her Appendix, luckily you don't have to have it to live... Her sister Ella was alowed to stay with her and they went back to their family to recooperate. My father was the man of the house as a little boy and would do anything to keep his family fed... he worked on a bread truck for the day to get them a loaf of bread, collected scrap and old weapons to sell, worked the milk truck to get a jug of milk, etc. He was 5 or 6... at the time. When the war was over, they were still together but didn't know where my PopPop was... since he was forced to go to the work camp. My Aunt Anne was dating a US Army Soldier and he helped to find him, dying of tuberculosis in a hospital... He pulled through and they tried to rebuild the lives that were taken from them when the war began. My Dad toured all over Europe on his motorcycle, it might be where my travel bug came from... When he was 18, he was riding his motorcycle home late one night and was hit and run... left to die, the motorcycle landed on top of him... He was luckily found by the milkman making deliveries... but he was in a coma for several weeks and in the hospital for 2 months... One of his legs was shorter than the other and he walked with a slight limp and a pin in his hip for the rest of his life... One thing I thought was incredibly interesting was the steel factory where he worked paid him his full salary for the whole 6 months that he was recooperating. Amazing, huh? I am thinking that I might be interested in all these stories since he was my Daddy... and you may not since he wasn't yours.... but hey, it's my blog and I can bore if I want to... Well, In 1959, my Dad and his family emigrated to the US, Philadelphia, PA, he met my Mom 5 years later and I was born 10 years later. So I am a first generation American... My Dad became a US citizen in 1976, fitting, huh? I remember how proud he was and the photo of him next to the Liberty bell that he took that day. I know that I am sad to have lost him so young and so fast but... I was so blessed to have him as a Father at all. And I miss him everyday. BTW, these stories were told to me in a mix of Germish... My MomMom told me and my brother and sister so we could know what type of man, my father was... since he would never blow his own horn...LOL Anyway, Happy Birthday Dad! I miss you much, but Love you more.