Dads

JenniferEccles

You don’t highjack any thread Kate1949
You had such a dreadful home life as a child but it’s to your credit that you have risen above it as an adult with your own family.

It must still hurt though when you think about the childhood you should have had.

Definitely. As the person who started the thread I do not feel the least hi-jacked! I am just sorry that your childhood was so very difficult.

I had older parents.

No, Dad never read to us, Mum did, and neither of them said they loved us, but we always knew we were loved.

They rarely praised us, it would make us ‘big headed, leave it to others to praise’.

Dad died very suddenly of a heart attack when I was just 19, over 50 years ago.

It remains the saddest day of my life.

CanadianGran

I don't remember my father ever reading to us, but he was very kind and fun with us in other ways. I fondly remember the back rubs I would get while watching TV. My dad was known to always lie on the floor watching TV, and I don't remember him ever sitting in a chair in the living room unless there was company! So often there was a pileup of wrestling with all 4 of us on top of him, and him pulling our toes until we screamed! He was a good man and I miss him.

Canadiangran by dad also used to give me lovely back rubs but mum liked them too so I think the poor man used to have us two women vying for a back rub
Dad wasnt a floor sitter but I have always been one even now
80 + I am always on the floor except when people come to visit then I am all proper and sit in a chair
I watch tv on the floor, do my jigsaws, do my craft stuff, draw , I am just totally comfortable on the floor I can t envisage ever going in a care home and having to sit on a chair ( at the moment I am sitting on the floor drinking my morning coffee in front of the gas fire) yay

Kate 1949 I feel for you.My childhood was ruled by a violent drunk and I don’t look back on it with happy memories. Glad your now able to talk about it.🤗

Reading before I went to school I’m struggling to recall being read to although I’m sure I must have been as I recall books suitable for 2-3 year olds in the house. There were no other children. I was always encouraged to read, loved and still love books.

My Dad was a practical man. He built things, made toys, mended things, cleaned my shoes, made sure my bedroom was warm when I needed to study, decorated, chased rodents away. I often helped him, unless it involved rodents! He also took over when my mum was in hospital, which was often for a few years, made sure I was fed and laundry done. Mum was the homemaker, knitted just about everything, baked and cooked from scratch every day. Sometimes worked very part time, always home when I was. They both gardened, often I helped, or maybe hindered. Mum was more tactile than dad, we were close. I think dad was a product of his generation in terms of showing emotion The only time I saw him cry was when my mum died with us both by her side and then it was only for a few minutes.

My heart goes out to everyone with painful memories of childhood.

Dad died when I was 5 so I only have fleeting memories. His singing as he cooked porridge, his polishing our shoes on the verandah and telling me he used a special polish called elbow grease, me standing on his shoulders after tea, him bringing in a harvest of lettuces and tomatoes which I loved and carrots which I hated.

I don't remember him reading to us but he may have.
I wish I'd known him better.

DH was a wonderful dad. He read to the children and made up stories to entertain them.
I wish he was still here

My dad was a fantastic father to my sister, brother and me. Every night the 3 of us would crawl into the same bed and dad would tell us a story that he made up in his head. It was about a parrot called Joey and a monkey called Dodo who lived on a desert island. He would tell us their adventures and he would make it so exciting, he would always end on an exciting note and would say “ but that’s for tomorrow night”

This seemed to go on for years although it probably didn’t!!
My sister was about six ,I was five and my brother 3. We were very poor but mum and dad gave us a wonderful happy childhood . Although it was over 70 years ago I can remember everything clearly. To be honest it’s brought a little tear to my eye.

My dad was the nicest kindest man on the planet.Always tolerant of others views ,always there for us.
My mother was often ill so his catchphrase was don’t worry your mum ,he would stand out on the back step and lean against the wall and letus unload any issues and gave great advice.As a wee girl he took me to bookshops every week where we would buy second hand books and swap the ones we,d bought the week before.
I can thank him for my love of books and of music,we were brought up on a wide variety of music from classical through swing,jazz,traditional folk and pop.
I miss him every day .
I do say I married my dad because my husband has all his attributes would do anything for us and makes me laugh every day.I,ve been very lucky with the men in my life

You don’t highjack any thread Kate1949
You had such a dreadful home life as a child but it’s to your credit that you have risen above it as an adult with your own family.

It must still hurt though when you think about the childhood you should have had.

Lovely dads some of you had

My father was never touchy feely, and worked long hours. He didn't read to me, but when I was older he recommended books to me and we discussed books we'd both read. What he did do was make me a wonderful doll's house which was a model of our own house, and my marvellous rocking horse, which was better than all the books in the world to me.

Am so sorry Kate1949 and others whose fathers were abusive. I cannot imagine how awful that must have been.
My father was a very hardworking man who tried his best to provide what we needed even if it meant my mother and himself often went without.
He never read to us at night nor can I recall my mother doing this either, my older sister would like to make up stories at bedtime though but some of them were quite scary and so I would lie awake at night with a blanket over my head.

Bluebell, I think we must be sisters because what you're describing is my parents, my dad was the quiet one, he liked to muck about fixing anything that was broken...and making toys for xmas...dolls houses and cots...

My stepfather was nearly 20 years older than my mother and was distant and found 4 children, myself included after the age of 50 very irritating. He’d been in a PoW camp in Java during the war. He never talked about it to anyone. I can’t remember either of my parents reading to any of us. As soon as I’d learnt to read I spent the rest of my childhood in the lovely local library and escaped into books. My mother grew to hate him and divorced while we were in our late teens. It was not a happy childhood for any of us.

No, that's ok Kate
It is good that you can talk about it.

Allira How understanding of you. Every day of my childhood was frightening. There were some good times obviously with friends etc but home life and Catholic school were terrifying. Sorry to hijack the thread with poor me (again).

To those with 'dads' like mine It's tough.

I don't remember my Dad reading to me, nor was he very demonstrative but he was very caring, making sure I was all right and looked after, cleaned my shoes, filled me a hot water bottle at night in the cold weather etc. I was never smacked although he could get cross if I cheeked my mother when I was a teenager!
He was an older Dad, too, as he was away for most of the war in the RN.

I am sorry for those who had abusive parents, it must have been dreadful to live in fear. 💐

My Dad was the sweetest, kindest man you could ever meet. He was 26 years older than my mum. I was the youngest of 9 children, so I was the baby. By the time I came along Dad had retired.
I remember clearly, holding his hands on my way to school.
He passed away when I was 14.
They say life is a balance - I had an idyllic childhood, Later, not so good.
So sorry for those who had a tough childhood

Never had anything read to me by mum or dad, no play, never had a kiss from dad or mum who only started showing any affection in her later years.

My Dad was born in the 1920’s and, like a previous poster had served as a signalman on the Russian convoys, but not for long. I was born when he was 44. He was the kindest, gentlest man who cuddled me and read stories and played games. I loved him and was loved by him, he died in 2006 and I still miss him.

I have just realised I cannot remember my mum reading to me either, or indeed showing affection.
It's a wonder I turned out reasonably OK.
It was a strange time with all those parents carrying their war memories.

To those with violent dads I can only send

I was blessed with very loving parents and it saddens me to read that some fellow gransnetters had the opposite experience 💐

I remember sitting on my dad’s knee from an early age. He did read and sing to me. But what I loved most were his made up stories. He carried on that tradition with my children.

I don't remember my father ever reading to us, but he was very kind and fun with us in other ways. I fondly remember the back rubs I would get while watching TV. My dad was known to always lie on the floor watching TV, and I don't remember him ever sitting in a chair in the living room unless there was company! So often there was a pileup of wrestling with all 4 of us on top of him, and him pulling our toes until we screamed! He was a good man and I miss him.