Other early memories of him mostly center around him working and cooking. Dad worked harder than anyone else I knew. He was self-employed, doing home improvement projects such as siding, windows, room additions, etc. He learned from my Grandfather who was a stickler for doing things right. My Dad even built us a house when I was a kid. None of my friend's dad's built their houses, so that was pretty cool. I also secretly thought my Dad was probably smarter than their dad's were because a house is a big thing to build! When I was probably around four, I remember riding my tricycle on the foundation of what would be our house. You could see the lights from the air traffic control tower of the Toledo Express airport that night so I asked my Dad what they were for. He told me the light directed the airplanes to the runway so they could land safely. I remember thinking my Dad was smart! He knew about houses and airplanes!
My Dad is a funny man, the life of the party who always has a joke to tell or a funny story. By the time I hit high school, the house was built and we had huge New Year's Eve parties. Friends from church, friends from high school and family members attended these parties. There were friends who were allowed to come to our house only because their parents knew there wouldn't be any contraband at the Bloomer household. I distinctly remember walking through the dining room to get something and my Dad had everyone mesmerized by some story he was telling about his shenanigans as a teenager or some silly staff person he had who had committed some crazy offense. He was laughing so hard his face was red and tears were nearly streaming down his cheeks. So was everyone else. I was laughing too and I hadn't even heard the whole story! I was just laughing because he had everyone else laughing so hard! He was a great story teller and loves to laugh and make others laugh. My sisters and I get our sense of humor from him; the life of the party.
My Dad has had a lot of health problems throughout his lifetime, but the one that impacted me the most were the injuries he sustained as the result of falling off a ladder that was 20 feet in the air. Technically, he rode the ladder to the ground as the scaffolding collapsed causing the ladder to slip down the side of the house he was working on. Miraculously, he managed not to break any bones. However, the doctors told him he probably would have been better off if he had broken them. His toes touched his shins and he sustained pulled and torn muscles throughout his legs. Upon returning from the hospital, my uncle and grandfather had to help him into the house. The first thing I remember him saying was, "The doctor x-rayed my head. He said there's nothing there." Always the comic relief in spite of the pain.
Dad had to go to bed where he remained for somewhere around two months or so. He had ace bandages from mid-calf to his toes. It looked as if someone had taken a baseball bat and pounded him with it repeatedly. His legs were black, green, purple and yellow, it made me sick to look at them and to this day I cringe when I think of that accident. I did not relish changing the bandages and I think I only did it one or two times. I always tell him that it was his fault I got a business degree instead of becoming a nurse. I never heard him complain and I never saw him worry about how we were going to eat, although I'm sure now, that it had to have been on his mind. I am equally sure that for someone as active as he was, it could not have been easy to lay in that bed recovering.
He has had other major surgeries and has the scars and stories to prove that which would have crippled others with the pain he has endured. A few years ago he was in the hospital for a torn muscle that had bled internally. By the time he went to the doctor, he was a half step away from gangrene and they did emergency surgery to save his leg. The day after surgery when I was visiting him, he was harassing the nurse and had him laughing so hard he could barely do his job. In observing how my Dad has handled these situations in his life, I have learned that even in the midst of excruciating pain or dire circumstances, you don't have to be mean to people and it is possible to always put a positive spin on things.
My Dad is a very generous person. He would give someone his shirt and then go get another one if it was necessary. Over the years, he has helped provide a nice place for many mentally retarded adults to live. He has helped other people anonymously over the years. I think my Dad is really at his best when he is helping others whether that means he is repairing something in their home or if that means he is helping someone less fortunate than himself. I learned to look for opportunities to help other people by watching my Dad.
My Dad is a good cook and he is generous with his cooking. He makes the best gravy that ever graced a heap of mashed potatoes. He learned to cook from my Grandma who was also a great cook. A few years ago I made some ham gravy and it was so good it reminded me of Dad's. I called him that afternoon and said, "Well, I did it. My gravy was as good as yours." He just laughed. I don't make gravy very often anymore, but when I do, one of the kids will say, "This is almost as good as Grandpa's." I guess I haven't quite achieved perfection on the gravy front.
Dad's skill isn't limited to gravy though. A roast has never been as tender and juicy as the roast beef that comes out of Dad's kitchen. Ham has never really been well cooked unless it is his. Dad's chili is also the best around. If you like hot dogs on the grill, you have never really had one until you've had Dad's. Dad's chocolate chip cookies, with or without pecans, will make you wish you knew his secret. I know the secret, but I'm not telling! Here's a classic Dad line, "You know what that tasted like? It tasted like another one!" as he gets up to fill his plate again.
A few years ago I was in dire straits while I was living in Florida. Due to something that came up with my ex-husband, we were not very safe where we were living. Dad happened to call the night after this situation and I told him what happened. He told me he was coming down to get us. On one hand, I did not want him to come since I knew he had just gotten home and I didn't see how he was going to be able to make the 17 hour trip back down. On the other hand, I had no money, no gas and I was quite concerned for our safety. I started loading our van with the kids stuff and tried to pass the time. I did not realize how stressed out I was until I saw Dad's truck and trailer pull into the driveway. I almost collapsed with relief and sheer exhaustion. That 17 hour trip he had somehow managed to shorten to 15 and some change. I still don't know how he did it, but I was sure happy that he did!
It is difficult to express the impact that a parent's life has on the life of their child. I guess it can be best summed up by saying very simply that I love my Dad and maybe even more importantly, I respect the person that he is and the person that he helped teach me to become. Dad is not perfect, but the good thing about that is he does not expect me to be perfect either. When our imperfections cause problems, we have learned to overlook them or in the case of causing hurt feelings, we have learned to forgive each other and move on. We have laughed together, cried together, been mad together and through it all learned to truly enjoy each other's company.
I am forever thankful for my Dad's influence in my life, for the stability he gave me when I was a kid and the support he has shown me as an adult. He may not be perfect, but as the country song says, "that's close enough to perfect for me", because he was and continues to be exactly what God knew I needed.
Thanks Dad! :)
Here's our house that Dad and Grandpa built. That's Dad in the planter and in case you were wondering, that's Indiana limestone on the exterior of the house.
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