Sunday, April 1, 2012

A Tiger Tale

The Tiger, as most of you are aware, is a highly decorated former Marine. When asked about the job he did all he will tell you is that he "was part of an elite unit of Marines". To this day that trademark Marine swagger remains, even behind his walker.

I am a terrible daddy's girl and have been from the moment I was born. As a tiny girl I remember demanding to wait to eat my dinner until my dad came home. The Tiger would give me a shot of his Schmit beer with our dinner. It was so bad that I would even sleep in his work shirts.

Throughout my life I have always had night terrors and horribly realistic nightmares. I still remember a few of them to this day. There is one that I had about my older brother and myself trapped on the front porch of a house during a torrential downpour. Now I would say that it was a hurricane. It's no wonder I still have trouble sleeping as an adult.

In an effort to thwart the bad dreams The Tiger started pinning what he called "bravery medals" to my nightshirt. Every night after my bath I would toddle out to my dad, he would pin my medals on and lift me up to the ceiling to touch my "things" (the bad faux vaults on the ceiling). And off to bed I would go.

I was pretty old before I realized that the "bravery medals" that my Tiger hung on my shirt were in fact his Purple Hearts and his Silver Star. It still blows me away sometimes that he would do that. I know that he never viewed his service as anything out of the ordinary, but I've read the commendations...that old man is Superman.

He and I harass each other relentlessly and can fight like professionals. But The Tiger is bar none the coolest person I know. I have said that my memories of my childhood don't come to me in a fluid stream, so the ones I have of my father are very special to me. His toughness and drive are what I compare all other men to. His humor and quick mind fascinate me. I am proud to be his daughter.

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