My Dad

I have always admired my dad and with Father's Day coming up I thought it a good idea to reflect on not only the genetic connection with my father, but also his admirable traits I've witnessed over the years.

My father has always been a strong man. This year he will hit his 50th wedding anniversary and will turn 83 years old. He loves my mother. My father has been a rock for his entire family without a shadow of a doubt and has always been there for me and mom as well.

My father has always been tough as nails. Up until a couple of months ago I would have told you he has gotten a little frail in the last two years or so but after I witnessed him bruised and skinned up from head to toe a couple of months back and he told me the story of how he fell down the steps and hit face first on a brick sidewalk a week earlier and didn't even go to the doctor for a check-up, I had to rethink my thoughts about all that especially since what I saw should have broken quite a few bones at his age, yet only skinned him up and bruised his ego a little. I tried not to show my emotions and anger as to why he didn't tell me or why he didn't even go to the doctor, but it sure was hard.

My father went to work at an early age after the tragic death of my grandfather. He was sixteen years old. He sent money to my grandmother on a regular basis and went into the military. When he found out his youngest brother had dropped out of school, he came home from overseas and forced him to finish, buying his books in the process. My grandmother remarried to a man who was an alcoholic and who physically abused her, and after one episode of abuse, my father came home to show his step father just what it felt like to be physically abused. He got my grandmother out of that situation encouraged her to stay with my aunt, which she did. That wasn't the first fight my dad had been in, being raised up in rural Choctaw County where fighting was the norm and meanness was abound. Despite the occasional fight though, my father grew up doing well for himself and after he got out of the military he took a job with the highway department.

Mom and dad tried to have kids and weren't successful for years so they adopted and three years later at the age of 43, I was born. When I was eight years old my parents both decided that I was a handful and that they didn't want to raise me in and around the city of Mobile, so they both retired young and built a house in the country. I just didn't realize how different I had it from most children my age who had parents that worked. My father had a garden and did little side jobs from time to time. He introduced me to some good work ethics and hooked me up with local people to cut their grass and do other projects around the age of 11. At the age of twelve, I was searching classifieds and ran across an ad to sell Grit Papers, profiting 25 cents per paper sold. Dad would drop me off at the local store in the morning and I would ride my bike all over selling papers. He took a lot of time with me. I took carpentry a couple of years in high school and he eventually connected me to a couple who put my skills to the test at the age of 16. At the age of 17, I wanted to build a two story playhouse and garage for my niece and dad, he supplied me with the materials, the tools and gave me free reign to build it by myself, the best way to learn.

About a year prior to getting my drivers permit, I noticed my dad began to slow his driving down 5 miles under the speed limit, often telling me "Son, just because the speed limit is 55 mph, doesn't mean you have to drive that fast." He talked to me about alchohol and drugs and even a very short talk about sex and although my dad always kept a firm grip on my whereabouts, and also his belt when he disciplined me, he never used any kind of mental type abuse or punishment when he punished me. Matter of fact, he never once called me a name or tried to put me down in any way, but he did believe in that belt, and always wanted me to understand why I was getting whipped. He made sure I respected my mother as well. All this was for my benefit.

My father always was the brother and son who took care of business in the family. When my Uncle Otis was severely hurt in Okinawah around the time I was born, it was my dad who picked up one of the other brothers and went to New York to look after his affairs. He had extensive brain damage and paralysis, the mind of a one year old and he could not even feed himself, needing care around the clock. Once a month we would drive three hours to visit my uncle in the nursing home and it was my dad who always spoke with the doctors and nurses to keep things straight. Dad took care of all the paperwork (along with my mom). I can still remember the phone going off in the middle of the night and it being a doctor wanting to talk with my dad about Otis or to get permission for some proceedure.  My dad looked after my Uncle Otis for over 30 years.  Anytime anyone in the family was in some sort of trouble or needed something, my dad was right in the middle of it taking care of business. When my uncle Condie got colon cancer, it was my dad that brought him to our place and took him to chemo. When Uncle Condie got cancer a second time, it was my dad taking care of business once again. When people needed something worked on, my dad was there.

My dad is always there and has always been there for so many people. He's always said what's on his mind and some people might consider that insensitive, but you always knew exactly where he stood on any issue that would come up and you also knew how you stood with him. I've acquired a great sense of respect and admiration for that part of his personality.

There is a great deal of age difference between my parents and myself, but without a doubt, I want to take after the example of my father and be the strong one in the family just like he always was and be there for him and my mother in their old age. After all, I wouldn't be near the man I am today without my father (or my sweet mother). I love him now, and always will.