Years ago my Dad gave my little nephew (Pat I think it was) a sock filled with pennies and nickels and assorted loose change. He just loved to see the little ones eyes light up with delight. Mind you this is the same guy who said to each and every kid “Go ahead down into the basement and play at the tool bench, make something… it’s O.K.”. The only rule being no power tools unless an adult supervised. For years there was an Armory down there, I swear, my own boyo who wasn’t allowed to have any G.I. Joe’s or toy guns immediately went to the basement and produced swords and home-made nunchucks and other assorted armaments at a rate that sent my sister Marg’s head spinning. She at one point figured he was capable of arming the entire neighborhood. Ah, grasshopper.
That Dad of mine could leap tall buildings, stop speeding bullets and even more importantly keep seven year old twins occupied and feeling wanted and loved and appreciated at all times. Kids swarmed him on the holidays and yet he never seemed to busy to hear all their stories or set them to a task by showing them how. All while orchestrating the platters of food and getting the guests drinks and telling stories the whole time. But it was the memories of those socks that stopped me tonight. Stopped me in my tracks. I came across some notes I have of talking to our Kate and she talked about how Dad would give the boys socks filled with change and they would feel like “King of the Mountain” with them. So they would be dragging this Men’s long black or brown nylon sock along throughout the party or visit (thereby weighing them down) and then when they got tired and started picking at each other he would set them to a building task in the basement at the workbench. So as Kate would say they could leave completely armed and ready for the 50 mile trip home. Cudgel, sword and all. That Dad, always thinking! As Kate would say, four boys , fifty miles you do the math! It’s no wonder that their Dad Frankie didn’t miss attendance at the Eagles Club or the V.F.W. for that matter !
Our Dad and Johnny, companions in the Art of having a good time.
Dad with Mike and John and Bill. Traveling to all of the Great Lakes one summer.
What an example in the art of living, loving and just being there this guy set. And you can see it in Mike’s and Billy’s brood also, they’re great kids whose Dads learned from the best, Frank and Grandpa.
Thanks for stopping by and have a great one.
P.S. Go figure how much Uncle Leo looks like Timmy Cosgrove at that same age! Its in those same gestures with the arms and those dreamy irish eyes…