Sweet (but long) fathers day article w/mention of moped

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Sweet (but long) fathers day article w/mention of moped

Postby Micronaut » Mon Jun 19, 2006 7:54 pm

From Day 1: Devoted


I love my dad. He never fails to really make us all laugh. Like for instance, the other day when he mentioned how he wanted to trade his truck in for a motorcycle or moped to really cut down on gas. It was the whole idea of picturing a 6-foot-5 older man flying down the interstate dressed in a button-up and tie on a moped that cracked us up.

As kids of all ages throughout the nation honor their fathers on this special day, some children have more of an appreciation for dear ol' dad's influences, sacrifices and eccentricities than in years past. Sun Herald Teen Board member Sarah Frigo reflects on her relationship with her father, Chris, in the wake of Hurricane Katrina.

My dad's name is Chris Frigo and my mom, Kerri, likes reminding me that when I was a baby, he was so excited about having me that he would rush home after dental school just to see me.

While studying late at night, he would wake me up just to play since he was at school during the day. Often around midnight, he would be cradling and feeding me while a textbook lay open on his lap so he could study at the same time.

Fast-forward 17 years: I'm trying to sleep and he's waking me up around 5 o'clock in the morning for school by wringing a washrag out over my face as I beg for just "five, no, 10 more minutes!"

That doesn't happen too often anymore, and it's not pleasant, but I guess it's loving and responsible in a way.

As I try to avoid the "he's been with me through this... And he's been with me through that" cliché version of a Father's Day article pertaining to my dad, I've come to realize how difficult that is to do.

My dad really has been with me through it all. I can't think of a time he hasn't been there to meet a boyfriend, to laugh with me at my mom when she gets mad, or a time where he hasn't cringed at the sound of practically any rap music. Maybe he wasn't there when we had to move to Florida after the hurricane, but who can blame the guy?

After Katrina flattened our house in Waveland to the slab it stood on, Dad had to stay in Gulfport and sleep in a trailer behind his office to work while we spent our nights in cool beds in a rented condo in Florida.

He would wake up early to drive to Rhodes gym to work out and shower, then go back to the office to work for the day. After four months, this - as hard as it would be to believe - grew old, and he started casually bringing up the topic about how monotonous the commute to Florida and back was every weekend and how he missed us during the week.

So eventually the rest of the family had to suck it up, say good-bye to the beach, beautiful weather and roomy condo and move back to the Coast into a two-bedroom apartment in Gulfport near the office.

It was frustrating, the six of us living there, but it was for my dad so we tried not to complain - most of the time. Eventually, the four of us - my two brothers, Christopher and Craig, and my sister, Lindy, and I - were enrolled in schools closer to Bay St. Louis, so home was relocated to a small apartment in Diamondhead, where we live while our house is slowly but steadily being rebuilt.

I can see myself becoming more and more like him as the days go by, and it's not a bad thing at all. For instance, we shared a certain passion for "American Idol" this particular season. Well, the whole family did, actually.

I don't think I'll get tired of mentioning the story my mom shared with me a little while back.

One night after my dad came home, the two of them were getting ready for bed when my he lay back, sighed and said - even after missing that night's episode, "I can't believe Paris got kicked off 'American Idol.'

" That's nothing compared to when they booted Chris Daughtry off; he was pretty devastated.

"American Idol" is not all we have in common. I have his eyes, mouth, big teeth and cheekbones, his taste in music, talent in writing, might I add, and kind of specific way in that my room has to be cleaned. One thing out of place just kills me, just like how his truck has to be washed in a certain way. God forbid one spot is left on it or he'll make us wash the whole thing all over again.

Speaking of God, he tells me he owes everything to Him and he feels whatever he pays to the church is returned somehow to benefit him. He thanks God every day for the life he has now.

It's hard to imagine how he got to the life he's living now. My dad grew up in a struggling, poor family of nine and lived in New Orleans almost all his life. He told me one time he only had one pair of running shoes from ninth grade up until his first year in college, when someone stole them out of the back of his car one day. It's really amazing how he turned out like he did.

He's the best dad ever and I love him more than the whole wide world. Happy Father's Day, Dad.
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