Gifts my Dad gave me.
We had great family times – trips to visit grandparents, aunts and uncles and cousins. Birthdays and holidays were always celebrated.
Best of all, however, was the lefse-making Norwegian tradition. Every Thanksgiving and Christmas Dad would mix together the potatoes, cream and butter, get out the big round grills, and make the traditional big, round lefse. We’d eat it warm off the grill with butter, cinnamon and sugar.
Dad did start coming around as I got older. I went to Bethel College in St. Paul (now Bethel University, which sounds much more impressive.) I was close to home, and Dad would be the first one I’d call when I had a flat tire (which was quite often because he always had me buy re-treads.)
My college graduation
I waited tables for several years, but grew tired of the sexist, demeaning environment in two different restaurants. When I could no longer tolerate being a waitress, he hired me “on the job”, cleaning, and even teaching me how to set tile.
We grew closer, but there was always a push – pull in our father-daughter relationship. We never exactly waltzed in harmony, our dancing was more like the bunny-hop — we could be in the same line but still do our own moves.