Throwback Thursday-Childhood Memories of Your Parents

These are my parents, Ken and Mary Jo. I have a lot of fond memories with these two. My dad is very focused and a very hard worker, sometimes to a fault. He worked full time, took care of the house and the yard, coached our soccer teams when we were little, came to our violin recitals and so much more. He was basically superman. One of my favorite stories of my Dad might seem a little terrifying, but we can all laugh about it now. This story just illustrates that my dad has even more of a one track mind than most men do.

This is my dad and my soccer team. I have no idea why I am standing as far away from him as possible, by the other coach. 

So I was about 8 years old. It was during the summertime and my family and I had just finished dinner. My mom was gone to a Church meeting so she wasn’t home at the time. After dinner my brother and I wanted to go back and play outside. We wanted to finish working on a tree house we built in a vacant lot across the street. In our excitement we hurried out of the house through the front door.  I was the last one to leave and I reached my hand back to make sure the front door closed all of the way. Bad idea.  Our front door was green, huge, and heavy, and it swung shut by itself. As it swung shut my finger got caught in the crossfire.  The door sliced closed right through my finger. Of course I ran back inside screaming at the top of my lungs and crying. All the while I left a trail of blood in my wake as I went through the entryway and the living room. My dad saw what happened. My nail was gone and the tip of my finger was hanging by a thread of skin, clearly I needed stitches.

My dad wrapped up my finger the best he could but had to do one thing before we left for the hospital. He had to show my brother Jordan and my sister Erin how to scrub the blood out of the living room carpet, so it wouldn’t stain! We did finally make it to the hospital and my finger was sewed back on successfully. When we got back it was clear that Erin and Jordan had either not scrubbed the carpet correctly or that they hadn’t even tried to clean it at all. But what are you going to do?  I still like to tease my dad about that although it was very traumatic moment when it happened.

My childhood memories of my mom are all just examples of taking care of others.  She would lug us around to music lessons, come to our recitals and orchestra concerts, and help us with our homework. I remember one year my sister tore her ACL skiing, and my grandma had back surgery. They were both invalids recuperating at our house at the same time. My mom and Dad were, however, the best nurses ever. They would help my sister Adrienne get out of bed and get up on her crutches. My mom would make sure grandma would walk around the kitchen and stretch out her back muscles like the doctor told her too. My favorite memories of my mom are the notes I would get at girls camp during the summer and the cards I got on my birthday. They just made me feel so special. They are one of the few things that will make me tear up. 

If you want to read how about how my parents helped get through my traumatizing first violin recital. The post is here.