|Me, Dad, Shawna, Barbara, Shauna|
This past Thursday, June 21, 2012, marks 6 years since my dad passed away. 6 years...wow! To say that I miss him would be an understatement. I miss so much about him, but most of all his sense of humor.
Anyone who knew my dad, knew that he had a nickname for everyone. I can still hear him calling me a variation of Banny Rooster, Rooster or Roostie which apparently came from the term Bantam (or Banty) Rooster. Banty Roosters are typically ¼ the size of other roosters but make up for their size in attitude and spirit. I may be small, but don't mess with me or my family.
My love for fishing came from my dad. I remember many times growing up that he would take my sister and I fishing. We always would have a contest to see who would catch more (Shawna was usually off picking flowers leaving her pole unattended). I remember him making me feel so good when I caught a fish. He would win most of the time of course, but I remember one particular time that I kept catching fish after fish and he caught none. He was a good sport about it but I could tell he didn't like losing.
He loved watching football, in particularly the New York Jets. I remember his quirky game watching preparation which always included green olives that he would eat during the game. He swore it was good luck. Although, more often than not it resulted in him throwing the green olives at the screen.
I will never forget how my dad always kept a beautiful salt water fish tank. I now know how difficult they are to maintain but I don't ever remember him not having one. That is part of the reason I became so interested in salt water fish and ocean life.
My dad was a mechanic, a reliable and hard working man that showed up to work on time and rarely ever called in sick. He was knowledgeable and in my eyes knew everything there was to know about cars. He always went above and beyond for family and friends. If you needed your car worked on he would make time to help you out.
Dad, I miss you! I miss you so much! Every single Father's Day that goes by it hurts a little more. I hate that you are no longer here! I hate that I can't just call you or come by. I hate that Ashton and Kayleigh didn't have the privilege of meeting or getting to know you. I hate that they missed out on getting their very own nickname from their grandpa or getting their ears “widgeed”. I hope you get to take glimpses down here often to see how we are doing. Ashton and Kayleigh are doing so well, these last 6-8 months have been tremendous. I am really looking forward to see what happens in the next several months. I know you are too. Time is a funny thing, the older I get the faster the years go. I know I will see you again, and I hold on to that. I love you, daddy! I miss you!
Keith Paul Potter
July 31, 1956 – June 21, 2006