This is my submission for Cee’s Black & White Challenge: Large Subjects
Every little girl thinks her dad is a giant. He could lift her up to touch stars, laugh with such a force that shakes the ground, and scare monsters away just by showing them his face.
My dad was my giant… for many years.
One day when I was in junior high Dad took me to downtown by letting me ride in the back of his bike. When we reached a big hill, he started peddling hard, but it didn’t take me long to realize that he couldn’t make it to the top. How could this be possible? My dad CAN do anything!
I leaned forward, moved my body back and forth, and lifted myself off the seat… I wanted to reduce my weight so Dad could make it to the top.
After some struggling, Dad got off the bike. “You ride it to the top. I will meet you there,” he said.
This is not acceptable! Not for my giant! I stared at him, froze at the spot.
“Go. I will meet you at the top,” he said again.
I took the bike, quickly turned around and rode away. I didn’t want him seeing my tears. I didn’t want him to know that I knew that he wasn’t a giant.
What a happy moment! 🙂
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The little girl really enjoyed the Pow Wow. It was a big event.
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The journey children go on learning their parents are not giants is sometimes sad, like learning there is no Santa Claus.
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Dawn, I felt very sad that day. It was one of the days that I can’t forget. Then they grew older and I found out that I might have become a giant for them. 😉 Life is interesting.
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It is indeed, more so I think for those of us who feel so deeply.
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This touches me. My dad has always been my giant and “go to” man. Now aging is kicking in and he is struggling with health and the onset of dementia. He knows something is not right and feels helpless to do anything about it. We watch his frustration and now it us kids that have to offer the hugs and try to fill his giant shoes.
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I am so sorry… but you know what? I bet your dad would tell you that he had a wonderful life and no regrets. My parents told me that.
I know exactly what you meant. My dad was hospitalized a couple of times the year before he passed away. I felt like to pick him up and held him in my arms. I wanted o comfort him like he used to do to me when I was a kid…
Thanks for your comment. Be strong!
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Thank you!
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Helen, I ‘liked’ the picture and the extraordinary words you wrote. Your dad was allowing you to be the giant that day; I can see your sadness, and think he probably felt the same as you.
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Thanks, Lois. I was young at the time. I thought if I wiped the tears away, Dad wouldn’t notice a thing. Now I think about this… I am not very good in hiding my emotions particularly when I am in shock. I bet my dad knew how I felt even though he didn’t say a word to me.
Have a wonderful evening!
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Helen this childhood memory obviously is very strong. The realities of adulthood can definitely be heartbreaking. Thank you for sharing it. The photos is fantastic.
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Thank you, Sue. It was a heartbreaking moment for me. However, we had many good years after that, so I don’t have any complains.
Still thinking about your trips. I send your URL to my daughter, hoping she will take me there. Ha.
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I think that is a wonderful idea! 🙂
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sweet
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Thanks, Ruth. I want to write down as many stories as I can. Blogging helps. Thanks for reading it.
Have a wonderful evening.
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Such a sweet and touching story. You were definitely born with a huge heart my friend. Great photo too. 😀
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Thanks, Cee. I wish I were smarter so I would say the right words at those situations. To the minimum, as soon as I realized he couldn’t make it to the top, I should get down and maybe even push the bike from behind. I worried if I would hurt his feelings if I jumped off the bike but… Sometime I think i’s better if I don’t think too much.
Good night.
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Helen, to me you bring color to black and white. As for this post, truly spawned bittersweet memory. Thanks again. ^5
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Thanks, Trudi. I am getting better in making a decision if a photo should be color or black and white, but there are still some photos that I like both ways. This is one of them 😉 Thanks for your kind words.
Good night.
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A touching story, Helen. This photo tells “Every little girl thinks her dad is a giant”.
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Thanks, Amy. I love seeing the face expressions on the little girl and her dad’s face. It melted my heart. 😉
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Beautiful photo and story. Realizing our fathers are mortal is a troubling childhood milestone isn’t it? Thank you for sharing your experience!
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Thanks, Sue. Yes, it was at the moment that I realized that I had to grow up fast 😉
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Great photo and lovely story… just another milestone in growing up I guess…
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Thank you, RMW. You are right – it was a milestone… one that I wasn’t ready for at the time.
Thanks for visiting and following my blog. I did a quick glance at your bog, and found it quite interesting. I am looking forward to reading more. 😉
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I wonder sometimes the strongest memories of our life most often dates back to our childhood days. Thanks for sharing your story with us, Helen
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I think you are right, Suyash. I do remember my childhood more even though it wasn’t that special (but it was special for me!) 😉
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Childhood is one of the best times of a life. Even though they may not be special, it is unforgettable time 🙂
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Its hard to realize our heroes are only human….especially when we love them!!
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You’re so right, Tree. I remember that I used to think my teachers would know everything and was surprised to find out that wasn’t true 😉
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So true!
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Beautiful “human” story in such a short anecdote. Thanks for sharing.
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Thanks, Rommel. I have to catch up on reading your blog. It’s on the list… 😉
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That is a very touching and poignant story. I don’t know that I ever felt that my Dad was a giant or not a giant; but I always thought he could fix every problem in my little world and he usually did.
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Thanks, Robin. Once I wanted to get up to a tall tree. I was surprised that my dad was able to lift me up and place me on one of the tree branches. Only giant would be able to reach that tree branch, I thought 😉
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Life is filled with such moments.
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How true! And we are blessed because of that. 😉
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Beautiful post Helen, the photo along with your words of a daughter-father love is touching and is such an important part of life.
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Thanks, Randall. My feeling is that the our daughter-father love was very subtle (since both of us were quiet) comparing to other’s. Still, I knew it was there.
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Reblogged this on Protest the Chaos with Splashes of beauty and commented:
@HelenC. Your post has echoed in my mind through the Summer and often since you originally posted, how often the opportunity for relationship to mature and stay the same somehow. To my readers, visit Helen’s blog and enjoy!
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Thank you so much for your kind words and reblogging. I appreciate it.
Writing helps me connect to people I miss, believe it or not. And your comment comforts me. Thank you!
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Helen, You are most welcome, I have enjoyed your faithful follow and comments over the past year or so. I know you are stepping back for more quality as opposed to quantity. Get that, also know that IMHO, you always go quality. xox Tru
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Pingback: A Giant | Protest the Chaos with Splashes of beauty
My Dad was diagnosed with Parkinson’s many years ago. My Giant has been deteriorating mentally and physically before my eyes for a long time. But, he found ways to re-create that Giant status in how he deals with his everyday challenges that the disease has created as his new reality.
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I am so sorry to hear that. It must be hard for you! A year before my dad passed away, he was hospitalized. I remember seeing him curling up like a little baby. I wanted to pick him up in my arms, rocking him to comfort him. He was no longer a giant, but still, I love him so much.
I am glad that your father found ways to recreate that Giant status. But I am sure you would agree with me that being a Giant is really not that important. We admire our dads no matter what. 😉
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I really love the photo, and the expression on her face!
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Thanks, Richard. Me, too. I thought that expression is worth 1000 words 😉
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