WHY I STARTED THIS BLOG
We all claim to have outlandish stories about our families. Let me start by stating that—unless you can prove me wrong—I bet no one had a father like mine. (A hospital administrator even told me that once!)
Dad left home at the age of 16, allegedly because he thought his parents “knew nothing” and he had the answers to everything. That’s a common reason for kids to storm out of the house, but Dad was different: He never came back. For three years, he managed to survive entirely on his own—working at odd jobs, eating odd foods, and using his innate resourcefulness to always find lodging. His father and stepmother had no idea of his whereabouts, until someone tipped them off that young Harold (Dad) was working on the floor of the New York Stock Exchange. Dad spent those three years building his “net worth” as a responsible citizen. He reminded us of the “net worth” part regularly.
Fast forward 70+ years…
By now, my 90-something father had been living alone since my Mom died in 2001—in the same house my parents built in 1939, with a mortgage Dad paid off by 1940. To ease Dad’s loneliness, my siblings and I took turns visiting him for Sunday dinners. But if you’re picturing some frail elderly man…well, not quite. After retiring from his podiatry practice at 85, Dad still managed four commercial properties he owned, worked in his yard, drove to the beach for his daily two-mile walk, and cooked full-course meals from scratch—complete with homemade soup and the occasional reprimand to his kids (we were all over 50 at the time) to “…pipe down and enjoy it while it’s hot.”
Dad loved his seven children, and often saw the humor in his own rigidity. But—like that 16-year-old runaway who “knew it all”—he had self-concocted ways of doing EVERYTHING, whether it related to cooking or health remedies or saving money. I could go on and on with the stories….and through this blog, I will! And I invite you to do likewise.
Face it: families can drive us crazy, even when we love them. My siblings and I always dealt with Dad’s eccentricities by rolling our eyes and laughing in exasperation. We know what it’s like to come from a family with a lot of laughs—and a lot of quirks. So join the fun! I have a lot more to tell you about my father’s antics, and we want to hear about yours. Follow our stories,* read our guest bloggers’ accounts, and send your own best, funniest or most vexing family tales to submit@quirkyfamilystories.com. We will select the best of the best and post them here. Can’t wait to hear your story!
Note: Some of my family members are happy to be identified by name—while others will designated by an initial or pseudonym to ensure everyone’s comfort level in a public forum.
