The Sun asked for submissions from residents to tell us what makes your father great for Father’s Day. Here is what we received:
Submitted by Jean Steuernagel
There are so many authentically wonderful thoughts I keep in my memory bank, stored like precious jewels I take out and admire for a while. Then they get tucked away for future tales his grandchildren love to hear. I hope they remember all of the words because they were born too late to meet him.
Trying to pull up a favorite is quite futile, there are too many, but there is one I truly love.
Ever year my father would choose a lake, ocean or resort spa to spend his two weeks of vacation. The white Cadillac would be packed beyond capacity with new summer clothes, snorkels, fins, tennis rackets, sun tan lotion, four wild kids and one mom. Once the car pulled out of the driveway, my father lit up a big old Garcia Vega cigar. Even on the hottest summer day, we had to roll down the windows while the air conditioner was blowing full blast.
When I was very young, maybe four or five, my father taught me how to float like a marshmallow against the pulling current of the ocean. We were at some beach resort and he swam past the crashing waves with me clinging to his hairy back. I had no life jacket or fear. He was my Dad, nothing bad could possibly happen when I was with him.
He instructed me to lay flat on the water and take a big breath while he treaded water and buoyed me up with his strong arms. When he took his support away from my tiny body, I was on my own, suspended the sea of tranquility without a care in the world. I could gaze past the expanse of bright sea with sailboats that roamed the horizon; their white sales contrasted with the vermilion sky.
To this day I always vacation on the water so I can float my cares away. My father was an exceptional man of men.
