Random things about my dad

These things might not mean much to you, but I am missing him terribly.

I loved it when I was little and fell asleep on the couch and he would carry me to my bed.
Every day, and I mean everyday, after he came in from work he'd change clothes. Kind of like Mr. Rogers. His after work attire-white t-shirt, khaki shorts/sweat pants, black work socks, dockside shoes, and robe. Then he would retire to the rocking chair on the front porch and summon mom to join him.
The morning of every trip to Arkansas he'd wake us up with "Time to rise and shine. It's time to hit the road." He measured time in sleeps. "Only two more sleeps left"
He would always try to motivate me with "I'm gonna do something nice for you." He'd say that 20 times and then one day he'd walk in with some kind of present for me.
He loved his job and really never looked forward to retirement.
We started going on vacation with Mike's family about 13 summers ago. The first two summers Pete and Mike played golf and dad would just ride along. When he finally decided to take up the game for himself, he caught the bug and played at least every Saturday for the last ten years. He was always in search of the newest putter or driver to improve his game.
Dad got upset with me the summer after my sophomore year at Clemson. He saw my grades and told me he "wasn't gonna pay good money for me to go up there and have a good time." I begged him to let me go back and changed my major to marketing as part of my plan.
I was so scared the day I called him to tell him I had loaned my car to a "friend" and he totaled it. He was disappointed, but not mad. I had to rough it for awhile without a car to learn my lesson.
He made me go to church- no excuses. One Sunday morning I told him I was sick. He said "Get dressed" I did. I said, "I'm sick." He said "Get in the car." We got into church and I yacked on the hallway wall. I said, "See, I told you I was sick."
Dad was an expert on all subjects. If I ever thought he was bluffing on a topic, I start up a heated debate with him. Sometimes to prove his point or back up his argument later, he'd find an article from the paper or a magazine and send it to me in the mail. Once he sent me this random article about the many health benefits of bananas. He ate at least two bananas a day after that and thought I should follow his lead.
He had a great knowledge of the Bible. He taught the senior men's class at church until they all died off and then taught the senior ladies and most recently a class called "New Beginnings". He was a great teacher they tell me and he truly loved his class members.
He called me "Shug" and "Sis".
After mom worked at the Piggly Wiggly to help him through college, he never wanted her to work outside the home. Mom was always there for us-helping at school, cooking us yummy meals every night, and running out to get me posterboard for my science project due the next day. (She's the best mom and I want to be just like her.)
When Mike got engaged to Suzy he told her that our family didn't know the word divorce. When Pete asked for his blessing on our engagement he told him he would be happy for us to marry, but divorce was not an option. He loved Suzy and Pete so much. I think he was happy we had found mates to put up with us!
Most of his sentences started with "Here's what you need to do."
He was a terrible snorer. If I had to stay in the same hotel room, I prayed that God would let me fall asleep before him. I can imitate him perfectly after lying awake many a night listening to him.
He loved his grandchildren. He'd lift their head to his bald head, rub it back and forth and say "Neeneenee!" and they would all laugh. Anders would say "Papa, neeneenee." He loved to hear funny things my kids would say or do and then he'd share them with people he worked with. (I heard that from many people at the funeral) He was proud of Chris and Courtney and I'm so glad they had a chance to know him well. Allison will remember him, but I doubt Zoey and Anders will.
He loved to hear me tell about how miserable I was at Outward Bound, and then he'd beam with pride when I told him how much I'd learned in those nine days in the wilderness.
He'd ask my friends a million questions when they'd come over. He'd always ask me "Who's their people?" as if we lived in a small town.
He never could accept that I had cancer. He never wanted to confront bad news. He never wanted me to lack anything. He loved me so much...