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Deb - thank you for posting this link. My dad passed away in 1988 and I still miss him.

Here's to you, Dad!
 

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Aww, thanks Deb.

I miss my Father so much. He died in 1986 at the age of 52.
xoxoxooxoxo
 

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Thanks Deb! I miss my daddy too! He died when I was 15 of pancreatic cancer at the young age of 57. :(
 

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Thank you, Deb.

The last time I saw my father ... I was fifteen years old. He didn't recognize me because he came back from WWll with amnesia and PTSS. I was at my grandparents home (his mother and father) when he walked down the stairway and said ... "Oh, my, what a pretty young girl you are. What is your name?" He asked if he could take a picture of me. It was so bittersweet. That, again, and due to circumstances beyond my control, was the last time I ever saw him.

Years later, I could not locate where he was. It seemed to be a big family secret. Before Christmas of the year 2000, I received a phone call from the Coroner's Office ... asking me if I was his only surviving child. I was. I learned at that time that I had been left a substancial inheritance. My life, in so many ways, changed after that day.

I also learned, that all this time my father had been homeless, an Angel of a psychologist came into my father's life, and helped to bring my father off the streets, or, from under a bridge ... where my father still preferred later on, to make his home, once again.

His psychologist is now my dear friend, who not only was my father's doctor, but, a friend to my father, too. A long and amazing story about all of this.

My father's story changed my life so much. I still choose to live the way we do now. We have the pretty and comfortable home we bought before my father died. We are blessed with so much. But, my dream had always been for my granddaughter to have the opportunity to receive a college education, without the pressure of having to pay back student loans later on. So, her education ia already paid for ... she starts college the fall of 2011. She plans on becoming a physical therapist, with a doctorate degree, which is required in most states now.

I also donated a park in the Pocono's ... from the land that was my father's. It's a beautiful piece of land ... lovely trees, flowers, a sparkling creek down the hill, and a few picnic tables with grills. It's called Red's Park. That was the name he chose for himself. The park also has a beautiful stone memorial ... honoring his military service, and as a veteran of WWll. I stipulated that the park was NEVER to be used as a site for any kind of building ... it is forever to be the beautiful and serene park that is is today. If my request is not honored, I have it in writing by my lawyers, that I take back the land.

My father hated waste and wars. That was also written on the gravestone and momument stone. I also had engraved on his stone (black granite stone with genuine gold flecks from Africa) his favorite red bike ... and, his beloved cat. I don't think my father could have handled the tragedies of 9/11.

I have so many wonderful stories as to what transpired after my father died. I am sorry that he never got to know me, as his daughter. And, visa versa.

My father was a very bright man. And, he was very artistic. All the money that was sitting in the bank for years, from his military pension, didn't mean anything to him. He could have lived very well. But, he chose to live his life in a way that most of us would never think of doing if we didn't have to. And, yet, for himself, he was happy and content.

My story was on the local TV stations and in the local newspapers in the Pocono's. I was so touched later ... with calls and letters ... thanking me for helping others try to think about, understand, and not look down on those who are homeless. We never know what causes a person to take that journey in his/her life.

So, with that ... I honor my Father today. My father's name was Felix Joseph. The guy who used to live next door to me, and later married me ... going on twenty-nine years now ... also has the name of Felix Joseph. I think about that a lot ...
 

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Marie:

Thank you for sharing your father's story - blessings to you and your family.

Maggie
 

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Oh Marie,
Such a beautiful, sad, inspiring, heartfelt story. Thank you so much for sharing. Your Father was a hero, and, I bet he thought of his little girl everyday.

Love you.
xoxoxoxoxooxoxo

When we found out my Father was dying, I knew he would never walk me down the aisle. We danced to Daddy's Little Girl together, I'm so glad we did. We never missed our dance!!!
 

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Oh, Marie, you are beyond any words I could type.

Your Daddy is looking down, and is very proud of his little girl.

I'm proud to call you my friend.

We love you!! :grouphug:

Deb, Jops, Frankie, LBB, Tommy, Raul, Coby, Sugar, Sweet Pea, and Rex
 

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Marie - what a very touching story about your father.:smcry: So many peaks and valleys and times and stories interwoven. It's hard for us to understand things at the time and sometimes 20/20 hindsight gives us the chance to do that. I love the idea of Red's Park and your involvement in that tribute. Just beautiful. Thanks so much for sharing.:grouphug:
 

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Thank you, Deb.

The last time I saw my father ... I was fifteen years old. He didn't recognize me because he came back from WWll with amnesia and PTSS. I was at my grandparents home (his mother and father) when he walked down the stairway and said ... "Oh, my, what a pretty young girl you are. What is your name?" He asked if he could take a picture of me. It was so bittersweet. That, again, and due to circumstances beyond my control, was the last time I ever saw him.

Years later, I could not locate where he was. It seemed to be a big family secret. Before Christmas of the year 2000, I received a phone call from the Coroner's Office ... asking me if I was his only surviving child. I was. I learned at that time that I had been left a substancial inheritance. My life, in so many ways, changed after that day.

I also learned, that all this time my father had been homeless, an Angel of a psychologist came into my father's life, and helped to bring my father off the streets, or, from under a bridge ... where my father still preferred later on, to make his home, once again.

His psychologist is now my dear friend, who not only was my father's doctor, but, a friend to my father, too. A long and amazing story about all of this.

My father's story changed my life so much. I still choose to live the way we do now. We have the pretty and comfortable home we bought before my father died. We are blessed with so much. But, my dream had always been for my granddaughter to have the opportunity to receive a college education, without the pressure of having to pay back student loans later on. So, her education ia already paid for ... she starts college the fall of 2011. She plans on becoming a physical therapist, with a doctorate degree, which is required in most states now.

I also donated a park in the Pocono's ... from the land that was my father's. It's a beautiful piece of land ... lovely trees, flowers, a sparkling creek down the hill, and a few picnic tables with grills. It's called Red's Park. That was the name he chose for himself. The park also has a beautiful stone memorial ... honoring his military service, and as a veteran of WWll. I stipulated that the park was NEVER to be used as a site for any kind of building ... it is forever to be the beautiful and serene park that is is today. If my request is not honored, I have it in writing by my lawyers, that I take back the land.

My father hated waste and wars. That was also written on the gravestone and momument stone. I also had engraved on his stone (black granite stone with genuine gold flecks from Africa) his favorite red bike ... and, his beloved cat. I don't think my father could have handled the tragedies of 9/11.

I have so many wonderful stories as to what transpired after my father died. I am sorry that he never got to know me, as his daughter. And, visa versa.

My father was a very bright man. And, he was very artistic. All the money that was sitting in the bank for years, from his military pension, didn't mean anything to him. He could have lived very well. But, he chose to live his life in a way that most of us would never think of doing if we didn't have to. And, yet, for himself, he was happy and content.

My story was on the local TV stations and in the local newspapers in the Pocono's. I was so touched later ... with calls and letters ... thanking me for helping others try to think about, understand, and not look down on those who are homeless. We never know what causes a person to take that journey in his/her life.

So, with that ... I honor my Father today. My father's name was Felix Joseph. The guy who used to live next door to me, and later married me ... going on twenty-nine years now ... also has the name of Felix Joseph. I think about that a lot ...


Marie, your story touched my heart, I am speechless, you can see God's hand in all of your life. Hugs
 

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Oh Marie,
Such a beautiful, sad, inspiring, heartfelt story. Thank you so much for sharing. Your Father was a hero, and, I bet he thought of his little girl everyday.

Love you.
xoxoxoxoxooxoxo

When we found out my Father was dying, I knew he would never walk me down the aisle. We danced to Daddy's Little Girl together, I'm so glad we did. We never missed our dance!!!

oh Kerry, you made me cry girlfriend, I can picture in my mind you dancing with your daddy:crying:what a precious memory. I love that song "Daddy's Little Girl"
 

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I'm alittle late but I planned it that way
My daddy was one who very seldom showed his feelings,when I was little we had some special times together, just me and my daddy:wub: but as the years went by my daddy and I seemed to grow far apart, I guess it was my fault, I never heard daddy say I love you, I never took the time to really get to know him in a personal way, he was hard to talk to and I would get tired of hearing his World War11 stories, I'm ashame of myself now. Well the years just kept passing by, my mom died and dad was all alone, mom and dad had one of those marriages that you dream about, they had one heart beat, they shared everything and would spend hours dancing and just loving being with one another. So when my mom died I guess a big part of my daddy died that same day. It took many months before my daddy would open up to me, and the day he did was the beginning of a new season in our lives, he would talk and talk and talk somemore, I think I know every war story by heart lol. Something really changed about my daddy, he would always say "I LUVA LUVA LUVA YOU", and would hug me, then the dreaded day came when we took him to the doctors and they told us he had cancer and would not live long, my heart broke but I also knew he was glad his time had come, he missed my mom so bad, he just wanted to be with her. I spent one afternoon with daddy just wanting to know if he was ok with God and if he was ready to die, That Nov, I went to see my dad to say goodbye because we were going to Az for the winter, I will always remember him walking down the hall way holding the Bible( I had given mom and dad on their 25th anniversay) close to his heart, he handed it to me and said this is yours now, I don't know maybe I was in denial but I didn't realize what he was really saying to me. I spent the afternoon with my daddy, said I'd see him in the Spring gave him kisses and heard those special words of love "I LUVA LUVA LUVA YOU", it was two weeks later that I receieved the call, daddy was dying. we drove from Yuma and I made it to my daddy's bedside, he was in a coma, I never heard those precious words again, but I know my daddy loved me with all his heart and one day I will see him again, we are blessed to be daddy's little girls and to have all our wonderful memories.
 

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Oh, Marie, you are beyond any words I could type.

Your Daddy is looking down, and is very proud of his little girl.

I'm proud to call you my friend.

We love you!! :grouphug:

Deb, Jops, Frankie, LBB, Tommy, Raul, Coby, Sugar, Sweet Pea, and Rex
Awww ... thank you so much, Deb. :tender:
The same goes here. I am proud to call you my friend. :wub:
And, I love you and all the fluff's. :wub::wub::wub:
Marie - what a very touching story about your father.:smcry: So many peaks and valleys and times and stories interwoven. It's hard for us to understand things at the time and sometimes 20/20 hindsight gives us the chance to do that. I love the idea of Red's Park and your involvement in that tribute. Just beautiful. Thanks so much for sharing.:grouphug:
Thank you so much, Sue. :tender: For my birthday I am planning on getting a good camera ... and, sending my computer back to the doc ... so, then, hopefully, I can finally send lots of pictures of Snowball and everything else to SM.:chili::chili: I have pictures of Red's Park and the momuments, too, that I would like to share.

There is so much more to the story. I often have been told that I should write a book. I feel blessed that I didn't end up feeling bitter or ashamed in regard to the circumstances surrounding my father. Even when I was younger ... especially in my teens, I pretty much figured out on my own why my father was not in my life. And, with that, I always prayed that he would find peace.

Marie:

Thank you for sharing your father's story - blessings to you and your family.

Maggie
Thank you so much, Maggie. :tender::wub:

Oh Marie,
Such a beautiful, sad, inspiring, heartfelt story. Thank you so much for sharing. Your Father was a hero, and, I bet he thought of his little girl everyday.

Love you.
xoxoxoxoxooxoxo

When we found out my Father was dying, I knew he would never walk me down the aisle. We danced to Daddy's Little Girl together, I'm so glad we did. We never missed our dance!!!
Thank you, darling Kerry. :wub: I love you, dear friend ... but, you already know that. :wub:

And, I am so happy to know that you danced with your Daddy. You had to be such a beautiful child ... just as beautiful as you are now ... all grown up.
 

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I'm alittle late but I planned it that way
My daddy was one who very seldom showed his feelings,when I was little we had some special times together, just me and my daddy:wub: but as the years went by my daddy and I seemed to grow far apart, I guess it was my fault, I never heard daddy say I love you, I never took the time to really get to know him in a personal way, he was hard to talk to and I would get tired of hearing his World War11 stories, I'm ashame of myself now. Well the years just kept passing by, my mom died and dad was all alone, mom and dad had one of those marriages that you dream about, they had one heart beat, they shared everything and would spend hours dancing and just loving being with one another. So when my mom died I guess a big part of my daddy died that same day. It took many months before my daddy would open up to me, and the day he did was the beginning of a new season in our lives, he would talk and talk and talk somemore, I think I know every war story by heart lol. Something really changed about my daddy, he would always say "I LUVA LUVA LUVA YOU", and would hug me, then the dreaded day came when we took him to the doctors and they told us he had cancer and would not live long, my heart broke but I also knew he was glad his time had come, he missed my mom so bad, he just wanted to be with her. I spent one afternoon with daddy just wanting to know if he was ok with God and if he was ready to die, That Nov, I went to see my dad to say goodbye because we were going to Az for the winter, I will always remember him walking down the hall way holding the Bible( I had given mom and dad on their 25th anniversay) close to his heart, he handed it to me and said this is yours now, I don't know maybe I was in denial but I didn't realize what he was really saying to me. I spent the afternoon with my daddy, said I'd see him in the Spring gave him kisses and heard those special words of love "I LUVA LUVA LUVA YOU", it was two weeks later that I receieved the call, daddy was dying. we drove from Yuma and I made it to my daddy's bedside, he was in a coma, I never heard those precious words again, but I know my daddy loved me with all his heart and one day I will see him again, we are blessed to be daddy's little girls and to have all our wonderful memories.
Thank you, dearest Paula, for sharing the very touching story about you and your Dad. :tender: How beautiful that your parents had such a loving marriage. And, that when you grew older, you became so much closer to your dad.

It's also beautiful that your father thought to give you the cherished Bible you gave your parents.

When my grandmother died, I received her little red Bible. (I have the big family Bible from 1891, too) When my beloved grandmother died, all I wanted was her red Bible. She read it every day. And, she had little notes in there. My favorite being ... "Money can't bring you true happiness ... nor pay your fare to Heaven."
 

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that's interesting about the first father's day Deb....he must have been so proud of his daughter on that first father's day.

I'm so sorry that you are all missing your father's (and mothers) today. So many touching stories.
 

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there are alot of memories in this thread, its good to read them, i miss my dad sooooooooooooooooooooo much
 
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