Today I’m participating in the Finish The Sentence Friday extravaganza hosted by Kate’s Can I Get Another Bottle of Wine, Janine’s Confessions of a Mommyaholic, Stephanie’s Mommy for Real and Kristi’s Finding Ninee.
The prompt today is: When it comes to my past relationships, my partner/spouse thinks…
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When it comes to my past relationships, I have absolutely no idea what my husband John thinks. It isn’t something we’d talked about. Nor can I ask him in a timely fashion. He passed away over 16 years ago.
Therefore, I am going to have to doctor this Finish The Sentence Friday piece by subbing in a doctor. My dad.
A pediatrician, in most areas he was kinder than kind. However, when it came to me and my boyfriends he took on a whole different persona.
To get an inkling of what it was like, one need look no further than this short, hilarious trailer clip of Steve Martin’s 1991 gem: Father of the Bride.
Steve’s classic belief that “I was no longer the man in my little girl’s life. Old dad was history ” was undoubtably shared by my father as well.This did not sit well with him and it skewed his view of my suitors. As a result, they were inevitably deemed unworthy of me.
This was true of every single candidate I allowed him to meet.
My particular favourite had to be the time he met Moe. I’d been seeing Moe for a month or so and felt it was time he met the folks and they met him. Employed in the marketing department at a large corporation, he was Mr. Social. Blessed with a great sense of humour and an uncanny ability to defuse most situations, I knew he could dodge whatever bullet Dad threw his way. We arranged to go to my parents house for drinks and then go in the car as a jolly group of four to the restaurant.
Unfortunately, due to work obligations and heavy traffic we arrived at their house a good 30 minutes late.
The first clue that Dad hadn’t taken the tardy arrival well? He and Mom were already in the car, the engine was on and the backup lights activated. As we scurried up the driveway to the waiting car, Moe looked extremely puzzled. I knew what he was thinking before he did. Surely we could arrive a wee bit late for the restaurant? It was a Tuesday night after all. Yes, all true. However, he didn’t know my dad.
As we sidled up to the side of the car, the driver’s window rolled down, ever so slowly. It stopped when the opening gap was a height of approximately three inches. No more. A right hand, my father’s, shot out the window. The index finger bent in a beckoning “come hither” kind of way and then as Moe inched closer, the other fingers joined in and formed a handshake grasp.
My spontaneous “You’ve got to be kidding!” was overridden by Moe’s started warble.
“How do you do. Sir.”
The handshake was over in a blink. The hand withdrew and the window glass shot back up.
Moe’s feelings for me shifted gears at that moment. Who could blame him? I certainly didn’t even recognize that antisocial chap behind the wheel.
By the time John, my brilliant future husband and father of our two children, rolled around, my plan of attack was perfected. John, eager to get off on the right foot (or hand) with my dad, was a great student. We carefully staged the meet and greet. At the time, I was working alongside my mother in her asian antiques store. Whenever a new shipment of goodies arrived, we would have an evening wine and cheese party at the store and introduce the pieces to invited “special clients.” As John’s mother was a customer, he could tag along by association to the next one. Sometime during the evening he would swan over to my dad and casually introduce himself.
It couldn’t have worked out better. Dad, shy in that humbly charming way that only folks who come from a long lineage of shy ancestors can be, was happy to post himself next to a large Japanese keyaki wood mizuya tansu (kitchen storage chest) and wait for people to come up and chat. He was a fantastic listener and always ready to ask (except when it came to my boyfriends) the pertinent questions that ensured a satisfactory conversation.
My heart was pounding when I saw John and his mom enter the shop. He looked perfect. Dressed in understated sweater and khakis, he scanned the room for both me and my father. I saw his eyes light up the minute they located my dad. He then took his time. He collected a drink for his mom and for himself and then worked the room, chatting with individuals and peering at the tags on the items. Finally, his meandering took him alongside the mizuya.
For the next twenty minutes, my father entertained him in a relaxed and easy manner. He poured out his extensive knowledge about mizuyas and tansus in general. John could not have been more attentive. Then it happened. My dad’s right hand reached out, clapped him on the shoulder and steered him towards the bar. Well played John. Well played. They spent the rest of the night chatting together like very old friends.
My father’s thoughts on the man who was to become my fiance a year later?
“What a splendid chap. Real quality.”
He was indeed. So was my dad.
I miss them both dearly.
But enough about me on this Finish the Sentence Friday. What does your spouse or partner think about your past relationships? If you’d care to share, I’d love to hear.
31 Responses
First off I am so sorry for your loss of both John and your dad. However, you dad sounded a like like my own and will say he was very hard on so many of the guys I brought home for him to meet, but he loved my husband from the first meeting. So much so that he told my now husband, “I don’t know where she found you, but don’t ever leave!” Seriously, I never heard my dad say this to any guy I did bring home before and to this day this always puts a smile on my face thinking about it. Thank you for linking up with us again and have a great Friday now!! 🙂
Such a lovely thing for your dad to say Janine. What – do dad’s have a sixth sense about these things?
What a lovely tribute to your dad and to your late husband. I’m sorry that they’re both gone. They truly sound like wonderful men. The story about you and Moe arriving 30 minutes late to find your parents parked in the car waiting is hilarious and so something my dad would have done, too! I really enjoyed this. Thanks for linking up with us and for sharing this!
Dads do the darndest things do they not?
You had me at Steve Martin in “Father of the Bride”. I adore that movie!! I adore the thought of your kind dad had a personality transformations with respect to boyfriends!! But most of all I totally adore the fact that your dad loved John from the start. Oh, you had me tearing up at the end. It’s obvious to me that both your dad and John were “splendid chaps of real quality.” –Lisa
Thanks Lisa. They were both splendid chaps of real quality. And, yes, is not that just the best movie? Love it. Did you see the second one? Also good – so glad Martin Short made an appearance in it as well. There’s no one like Franck.
Kelly, this is one of your best. You made me laugh, and then brought tears to my eyes ! My own Dad was a gem, a Scot with a great sense of humour and I still miss him after 26 years. I can only imagine how much you must miss both your Dad and John.
Jane – thank you. Your comments mean so much to me. Truly. Sounds like we were both blessed with wonderful dads and may I say, husbands!
Oh Kelly, this is such a bittersweet post. Such lovely memories of your dad and your husband – they both sound like they were splendid chaps.
Thanks Dana. They were!
Oh, that is lovely. What wonderful memories. And oh how i love the movie Father of the Bride- one of my favorites. Made me wish– no disrespect to my OWN dad– that Steve Martin was my father!
Hahaha – quite get the Steve Martin reference. He is a gem isn’t he?
What a beautiful tribute to both your dad and John. It just goes to show that dad’s aren’t always unreasonable. They just want the best for their daughters. Maybe Moe (great name, by the way) didn’t get a fair shake (pun intended) but the bottom line is that John showed himself to be a man of honor and character and your dad could see that. Such a great story!
This weekend I will have to re-watch Father of the Bride. I love that movie. The scene at the table when the daughter is announcing her engagement and the father keeps seeing her as his little girl – makes me cry every time!
Laughed out loud at the Moe reference and fair shake pun. Yes great name! Thanks Mo. You’re right – it’s so darn bittersweet when she’s at the table announcing her engagement. Surely it was just weeks since she was small? How do they grow up so fast? Press that hold button for your grandbabies Mo!
Aw, such a sweet story that manged to both entertain and be a tribute to your late husband and father. Thank you for sharing! You are amazing, Kelly. I adore you more and more every time I read your posts. 🙂
Thank you Beth. When the title of your latest brilliant post showed up here I burst out laughing. Consider yourself smacked, Wanda!
Why thank you! Haha!
Bah, sorry you lost you two best men in the world.
I don’t look forward to my 10 year old bringing lads home to meet at all. I will not be kind to those who honk from the driveway or don’t open doors,etc. Wrath will be felt! Wrath!!! Lol…Ok then.
Thanks Don. While it is horribly sad that both are gone I do feel blessed to have known and loved them.
Yes – there is no excuse for the honking from the driveway nor for not opening doors. I suspect my dad and husband would also add a weak handshake and downcast eyes …
Wow! Sounds as though (whether or not you knew it or liked it at the time) your Dad figured out the perfect way to winnow out the best guy and get rid of the chaff. What a lovely, protective way for him to be (though it sounds like it was annoying at the time). And how excellent that you and John came up with such a great game plan to make that all-important introduction.
This is a lovely story of your life – thanks for sharing it. I really felt that nervousness with you 🙂
Thank you! You’re right – but man it was hard to go through at the time!
Oh, Kelly, I knew your story but again, I’m so sorry about your losses. I hadn’t even thought about that perspective for this prompt. What a great way to remember both of these men. I know my husband will not be excited about meeting our daughter’s potential suitors.
Hi Sarah. Thank you. It must be so hard for fathers – their little girls are both growing up and “being taken away.” Best of luck to your husband in that department. At least there should be a few more years for him to prepare!
Oh what a perfectly wonderful story Kelly! While I know you must miss them both so very much, how delightful to have had two such splendid chaps in your life. And I have to add the job in the Asian antiques store sounds swoon-worthy. 😉
I do miss that job Deborah. It was a lot of fun and great for the soul.
Kelly,
This was a wonderful account of your father and your husband..So sorry for your losses.
I love the father of the bride movies, however I can’t say that my father was anything like what you described of yours or Steve Martins character. It was fun though to have the opportunity to see what it could have been like. Thank you for sharing.
Thanks for reading Kelli.
What a great story. My dad had four daughters. I can only imagine the difficulty he must have had with this, but he handled it well and always was polite with whomever we chose. One time, before I met my current husband, he suggested that I find a football player. I guess you would have to know me well to know how incredibly unlikely it would be that I would end up with a football player, but I think his intention was to hint that I should find someone more MANLY instead of choosing hippie boyfriends. Well, my husband is a very spiritual man but also very manly and they get along famously. I guess when you find a guy who treats you as you should be treated, it is natural for your dad to approve.
Oh, I loved reading this! So sweet.
Thanks Naomi.