Tribute

Some time ago, Matt and I began to chronicle some fond memories of my Dad. Today marks the 6 year anniversary of his "heaven day", so what better time to share. For those of you who knew Dad, I hope this brings a smile to your face and stirs you to share some of your own memories of him (as "comments" at the end of this post) with us. For the unfortunate readers who haven't met him yet, hopefully reading this will give you a sense of him and his heart.

Dad’s nickname for Seth was “George” and mine was “Gloria”.

On Sundays mornings, Dad would always be waiting in the driveway, car running, with the occasional honk, as we all trickled out of the house into the car.

On family vacations we usually had an amusement park day. Dad would always ride the roller-coasters with us, repeatedly sometimes if the lines were short, while Mom and Grandma chilled out in a shady spot on ground level.

Dad felt it was very important to teach us how to drive a stick-shift vehicle so he taught me how to drive in his little red Ford Ranger (stick-shift).

Showing his giving and selfless nature, Dad let me drive his little truck to and from school my junior year while he walked, so that I could sleep in.

Dad was the ultimate morning person, dancing and hopping around the house every morning.

Out of the blue or especially if we had a frown or bad attitude, Dad would ask, “Do you want a gut punch?” in his goofiest voice and gesturing his best closed fist, left handed upper cut and fake punch, poke, and tickle us until we laughed.

Dad would always say, “Hmmm, that was a good one” and kind of giggle through his nose.

On any given school night, you could find Dad at the dining room table with Seth and I while we did homework and he’d be grading papers.

After school, Dad would change into comfy clothes, but leave his black dress socks on, so he’d come out wearing pj/flannel pants, t-shirt tucked in, and those black dress socks; what a sight!!!

Every winter, on a snow day or Saturday afternoon, Dad would get out his old racetrack and we’d play for hours, attempting to get our little cars around the figure-eight track without sending them flying off into the air.

Other winter days were spent with Dad helping build elaborate lincoln-log fortresses. It only seemed to be fun when he was building with us.

Lots of fun times playing Yahtzee and Hearts.

Dad took us fishing numerous times even though we weren’t really “outdoorsy” at all.

Dad could fix anything with plywood and/or duct tape.

Dad never threw anything away-this is funny especially after going through the garage last summer and finding all the junk he kept, feeling it had worth and value…he would have used it all too, given enough time!

Dad always had a hanky he was willing to share.

Dad seemed to have the snow cleared from the driveway long before the sun came up.

One year for Christmas, Dad built Seth a Thunder-cat Layer (boy doll house) and me a Barbie House. They each stood about 3 feet high and were the COOLEST!!

Dad got to give me the great news that I’d passed my nursing boards-I remember cheering and crying while I jumped up and down on my bed, Dad on the phone with me until I could calm down enough to talk.

One precious memory is dancing with Dad at our wedding reception, to “Butterfly Kisses”.

We’d ride the bus from Kluckhohn Elementary to the high school and meet Dad in his classroom after school every day. We’d play with a tennis ball and the chalk boards while he finished up his labs and prep for the next day. Sometimes, he took us to the teacher’s lounge and we’d get to share an orange soda (in a glass bottle).

I barely remember this one, but I think when we lived in Anthon still, Dad drove a bus after school and I’d ride next to him, sitting on a pillow up high and to the left of his seat, maybe it was a register or something.

When Dad got his mustang, he made it a surprise so when we came home for Christmas (maybe?), before even going in the house, he opened up the garage door and introduced us to “her”. He was so proud and excited. He told us the whole story about how and why he decided it was about time to have that mustang, how he’d been wanting it for years, and how the price was “just right”. (Dad only got to drive it for a few months...Mom's been enjoying it since then:)

In church, Dad would get very “into” the singing and really belt out the hymns and praise/worship songs, even though he was terribly off key…it was beautiful and always made me smile.

Dad did most of the laundry…very helpful, but it would drive me crazy that he line-dried everything, so my jeans would be stiff as a board and he’d take my little knit shirts along the bottom, stretching them completely out of shape and tacking them upside-down on the line with clothes pins-ha ha!!

Matt's additions: When we were vacationing in Chicago, Seth, Abbey, and I were lingering in a “Hard Rock” store while the others were elsewhere. We ended up missing our bus back to the train station. Keith stayed behind to find us while everyone else went back. He found us and we had to walk all the way back to the train station from downtown Chicago. We had to wait at the train station for what seemed like FOREVER so we could get ‘home’. Keith wasn’t even upset at us, he just made sure we were ok and got back safely.

Shortly after Keith got his Mustang he took Abbey and I out in it so we could drive it. We drove it out on the county roads east of LeMars. Abbey was driving quite “conservatively” and Keith encouraged her to “get on it.” I think she may have bumped it up to 80 mph. I think it was a real thrill for Keith to cut loose in his Mustang, I remember the excited look on his face.

One of my favorite memories was the night I asked Keith and Lola for permission to ask Abbey to marry me. I was about as scared as you could be. I had spent all evening with them, trying to summon up enough courage to ask them until finally they were ready to go to bed and I still hadn’t asked! I ended up asking them and they were a little speechless. After a moment Keith said “A little young don’t ya think?” I’m sure this wasn’t how he had imagined things happening, but he was supportive anyway.

So...what are some of your favorite memories of Mr.Fitch?