Memories of My Dad

It's been three years now since Dad left us.

This week has been particular poignant in remembering my Dad, since his mom, my GrandMom, passed away just this past Friday. She was 85 and lived a good, long life, so her passing was not quite the shock that my Dad's was. Her funeral was yesterday and the pastor asked us all if we wanted to share any memories of her. No one spoke, but I don't think it was because we didn't want to share, and I'm sure it wasn't because we forgot all those memories, but I think it's just so hard at the time, when someone close has just died, and you're at their funeral...I just can't imagine how anyone can muster up the focus needed to say something or anything, especially when there's the added pressure to be witty/caring/memorable/etc.

But it did get me thinking it would be nice to share memories of our loved ones. And we don't have to do it only at the funeral (that's just crazy talk!). So, with that in mind, I'd like to share a few memories of both my Dad and my GrandMom. I've decided to share both a happy memory and a not-so-happy one.

First, my GrandMom. My happy memory of her is when I used to visit Comic Book Kingdom and then walk from there back to her house. She would always make me and my friends something to eat and never cared that I always seemed to show up unannounced. GrandMom was cool to me like that.

My not-so-happy memory of my GrandMom is, of course, the happy stick. (((Shiver))) This was a stick or switch, as she called it, that she made us go get whenever we were bad (and I was bad a lot). She "whip" us with it until we were "happy". Yea! How I hated that damn "happy stick", but, funnily enough, I 'm happy now that she used it. (Lord knows I needed it!)

For my Dad, I'd like to say a happy memory of him was when he taught me how to do multiplication. I was like, 7, I think, and I remember my Dad showing me how you could figure out the single digit by single digit stuff, but that it was best to just memorize those and use that as building blocks for the more complicated stuff. My Dad was much smarter than his limited education would make you think and he was particularly good at memorization. I'll never forget that lesson, it was one of my best.

For a not-so-happy memory of him, I just have to think about "the belt". Whenever I was out of line (again, a lot), he would make me "hug the wall" and get out "the belt". These were terrible, horrible times for me. Times when I wouldn't share with my sisters or had fought with them. Dad was always there with his belt to make me come correct! I hated him for a while during my childhood, not understanding then, as I do now, that what he was doing was the only way he knew (thanks, in large part to my GrandMom and her "happy stick") to teach me to act correctly, be strong, and accept responsibility for my actions. The funny part is that, most times after getting "the belt", he made you sit beside him afterwards. He might even make you tell him that you love him. The indignity of it all! It was all a grand lesson in humility. Even though I call this a not so happy memory of my Dad, I actually am really happy that he did what he did. My Dad made me who I am today and I like that a lot.

Thanks Dad for all the memories, both happy and not-so-happy. They remind me how much you cared for us, how passionate you were about making us good people, how you took the time to teach us, sometimes in ways we didn't understand, and how much you loved us. I'll never forget you.