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My Pops
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My Pops
This is an essay that I wrote about my dad for my creative writing class.

[1,014 words]
Heather A Sloane
[January 2003]
My Pops
Heather A Sloane

My Pops
Dedicated to my Daddy
Love, Heather

It is 7:46 PM, and the front door slams shut. “David’s home!!!” is probably what my four-year-old yellow lab is thinking as she rushes upstairs, only stumbling twice this time. And then she comes to a screeching halt; well, maybe not a complete stop. She tends to slide around on the kitchen floor a little. She sees that it is not my brother who’s home, it’s my dad.
As fast as the speed of light, or almost as fast as she came running up the steps, she stumbles back down. When Daddy is home she knows she is not allowed anywhere but downstairs.
From in my room I could hear everything that was happening. DADDY’S HOME!!! I fly down the steps and right into his arms.
“How was school today Peanut?” he always asks that right away. My name is Peanut, and he is my Pops.
Without answering his question, I would always reply with, “How was work?” and we’d be even. And we would break into one of our crazy conversations.
My dad and I have the best relationship in the world. Sure we fight about stupid things, but who doesn’t? Nothing can break us apart. He is the greatest guy I know!
This six foot, four inches tower of greatness is the kind of man I go to when I need a friend.
On those rainy nights, where the thunder could collapse Mt. Everest, and the lightning lights up the sky like it’s the 4th of July, my Pops and I sit in the garage to marvel at the show Mother Nature is putting on for us. That has been our ritual ever since I can remember. When we are out there we would talk about everything. Our crazy conversations are about things like colleges, to his job, to our dogs, to cars, to aliens, and back to colleges. What is best about this man is that he cares so much about my brother’s and my future that he would do anything to help us get what we want. But all of his hard work and dedication does not just go towards our futures. He takes time out of his busy schedule to help out all five of the old ladies on our street. They always need something fixed in their houses.
My dad is the original Mr. Fix-it. No one compares to his repairing abilities. No matter what is broken, or how broken it may be, my dad, Mr. Fix-it, will find a way to put it back together. Okay, maybe sometimes it might look funny, work different, and once in a while even smell interesting, but if he says that it is fixed, that means it is fixed. And if that is the case, than whatever was broken, and now fixed, might have to serve for a different purpose because he is not going to attempt to do it again.
Fixing things is not the only thing this 210 pound man of power can do!! He slaves away all night for twelve hours at Quad Graphics. And when he comes home to spend some time with my mom, my brother, and I he has to leave in a hurry. See, my dad is a volunteer firefighter and EMT for Hartford. He finds it somewhat rewarding to help out people who are stuck in one of the worst situations of their lives. And he loves the feeling he gets crawling around on a floor of a burning building looking for those who haven’t made it out yet.
Even though all of that is going on, he finds time to manage to build himself a new shed, and on another room to our house, and mow the lawn twice a week with his new John Deer Tractor! My hard working father brings most of this upon himeslf! If there’s anything in the world that could swallow my daddy whole, it would be his pride. His favorite thing to do is sit in the hot tub (in the new room he built) and, from there, open and close the garage door on the new shed he built this summer. Those two new additions are almost treated like my brother and me.
And, you know how some guys like to show off all the cool new things on their cars? Well, my dad tries his best to join in on the fun too. He loves how neon lights look in some cars, but sadly, it never worked, or will ever work in a Suburban. So he found some Christmas lights and put those up all over his truck. It actually looks pretty cute seeing a forty-three year old man driving down Highway 60 singing along with Styx, in a 1999 silver Suburban lit up with Christmas lights.
And he loves his new John Deer Tractor. He will honestly have races in our back yard against my little brother, who gets stuck with the other tractor. Its something new for the neighbors to enjoy; and trust me, they do.
When it snows, and you could just sweep it off the sidewalks, my crazy daddy will pull out his pride and joy, the John Deer, and he will clean of everyone’s driveway on our street.
However, my favorite part of all of his “showing off” craze is when he brags about his two wonderful children. There is not a single person, that I have met, who hasn’t said, “Oh, you’re Jim Sloane’s daughter,” or “You must be Fireman Jim’s oldest,” and always ending it with, “I hear all about you.” Sometimes I worry if he says too much, but he wouldn’t want to make his princess look bad.
My pops is actually a pretty cool guy. We have a lot of fun together, and we do as much as we can together. Each day our friendship grows stronger and stronger. Even though I am growing up and going away to college in a year, and he won’t be around forever, I know I will always have and love the best daddy in the world. My Pops, the one and only, James William Sloane.



"i really liked this piece. your love for your father really shines through, and i have a good idea of what kind of guy he is. it has a lot of character and i enjoyed reading it (;" -- pearl.


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© 2003 Heather A Sloane
January 2003

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