REMEMBERING A GOOD MAN

MY DEAR DAD died 4 years ago today.  He passed away in his sleep after having a horrible stroke eleven days earlier.  I remember waking in the early hours of that morning hearing my sister talking to a nurse in the Hospital hallway.  We were allowed to sleep in the room next to his.  The staff was so kind to make up a bed to sleep in for my Mom beside my Dad. 

They had been married 68 years so it was fitting to allow them to sleep beside each other before he went to Heaven.  He was 90 years and 24 days old. To this day, my Mom is not doing well with his death.  She has many wonderful memories and does not have to be tormented by bad ones.  I don't always know what to say to her when she brings up my Dad.  So I listen as best I can.  

I remember his funeral and the processional where his body was in a beautiful wood coffin as the luxury hearse drove to the cemetery.  I thought, for a man that grew up dirt poor where as a child he had to put cardboard in the bottoms of his shoes and eat a pancake for his school lunch, you wouldn't know it by how he was being buried.  

Dad came from a large German family with 11 children.  His dad was an immigrant that came to America at the age of 16 from Russia.  I don't know if my Grandpa spoke broken English or German.  A few years later when he was 21, he'd marry my 16 year old German Grandmother that was an American citizen born in Nebraska. Together that'd have 11 children, my Dad being the third youngest.  They saw all their children except one grow to adulthood.    

Dad was called the white one because out of all these children, he was the only blonde.  The rest were dark headed.  Dad would graduate from Marion High School and set out to make himself a somebody.  Dad wanted to join the Army, but had asthma and didn't pass the physical. Somewhere in here, Dad took a liking to my Mom who was staying with her older sister that was dating one of my Dad's brothers.

George, my Dad's brother was dating Eyleen, my Mom's single older sister who was the new Home Extension Office employee.  Eyleen rented a small apartment next to George's and Mom came to live with her when Mom was about a 15 years old High School student.  Dad and Mom started dating becoming a couple that went frog hunting out in the country so they said.  Will you marry me happened when Mom was 16 and a half years old and Dad was almost 21.  They'd marry and the rest became history.  To this day, I don't think they ever went frog hunting again.  

Dad worked hard having a very good work ethic.  His father wanted Dad to be a farmer like him, but Dad wanted something else so he worked various jobs before he was advanced becoming a manager for Security Oil Company which was a Service Station in Liberal, Kansas that was open 24/7.  Full service station where men filled the car tanks with whatever fuel you requested. They'd check the oil and wash the windshields.  I don't recall the number of gas pumps the station had, but they also hauled fuel to the local farmers and worked on vehicles in their garage.    

Dad was incredibly busy.  He'd come home for lunch each day, but before he ate he'd change from his work clothes into clean, casual clothing then eat.  He'd take a short nap.  Change his clothing before returning to work.  He'd take a coffee break during his work day as he'd socialize once a day at Sally Ann's Cafe.  He made friends with a frequent customer that was an antique dealer.  This gentleman was my Husband's Grandfather.        

There was a time that Dad would often drive home in a different car.  This was when you could get a great used car for $200.  One day as he was driving his car HOME, he felt something run up his pant leg.  It was a mouse.  

Also he'd bring dogs and cats HOME to us.  One gorgeous cat it was a gorgeous blue point siamese with dynamic blue eyes.  This cat wore a trinket on his collar which was a miniature barrel that opened up bearing the cat's name, Monkey John.  Dad took the cat from some travelers passing through town that were moving across country.  The cat did not ride well in the car.  Monkey John became a wild animal while the car was in motion moving down the highway.  His deep throated meows became war cries from a terrified creature that paced back and forth over the tops of the seats crying for help.  He was not to be consoled so he became my Dad's cat that came to live with us on Roosevelt street.  The place that I call my childhood HOME and stomping grounds.  Monkey John would become an indoor kitty and I'd learn that I was very allergic to cats.  

I can still see the house and yard where memories were created.  

As a little girl, I can still see my Daddy standing tall and slender.  He'd comb his golden locks back and slick it down with hair cream.  Like the commercial slogan, A little dab will do ya.   

Dad was a man that took pride in being clean in his appearance.  He loved my Mom.  You could tell.  He didn't like foul mouthed words, and took pride in his German background.  He wasn't afraid to continue learning as an adult, he'd take adult education classes.  German, Auto Mechanics, Computers, and Photography,   He bowled on a league.  Loved to hunt and fish.  Did wood working.  Told a multitude of jokes in which he always said the punch line twice.  Loved eating buttered white bread at lunch and supper.  Black coffee and sweets.  He even made candy and cookies.  He'd sing, play the harmonica and dulcimer.  He loved cars.  He loved his Mom and was somewhat protective of her as his own father beat on her after he had been drinking alcohol. Dad chose to not be a drinking man. He chose to come home to his wife and family everyday.  He chose to feed and cloth his own children.  He chose to pay his bills.  He chose to be kind.  He chose to be a good man.  He had great faith in God.     

He ministered to many at the Service Station.  A friend to many.  

I can be thankful for him as a parent to me and embrace the good I did learn.  I cannot blame him forever for the things I wish he'd taught me as I have been an adult myself for 47 years. When children are growing up, our parents may or may not be there for us.  The same as when we become adults.  The memories are there good, bad or indifferent.  It's up to us to be the kind of adult that we want to be. Changes are possible.  

Dad wasn't perfect, but he was mighty fine.  

Remembering my Dad,

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