Memories
This page is where I pay tribute to my dad by sharing some memories that I have of him. The words bolded in the memories (below) refer to a picture in the banner (above).
Not long after Dad passed away, a family friend testified that it could be said of him that he *loved* his family.
One of my favorite memories is from when I was little. I did the old "got your nose" trick to him. He played along and said, "Oh no!" I pretended to put the nose back on upside down; he said, "Oh no! I'm in trouble when it rains." I hadn't thought of that, so I promptly put his nose back on the right way. :)
As part of his efforts to treat my sister and me fairly, he would buy us exactly the same toys.
Dad did *not* like for me to tell him that my dolls said, "Hello, Grandpa."
When I was growing up, I remember Dad having two white vans, a Ford and a Dodge. They didn't have windows on the sides (as the one pictured does), and they only had seats for the driver and the passenger. Whenever our family rode together in one, my sister and I usually sat - rather uncomfortably - on the bumpouts for the back wheels.
I'd often ride in the passenger seat sitting on Mom's lap, and while driving, Dad would frequently ask me to sit back so that he could see any approaching traffic. To this day, while in the passenger seat, my sister and I sit back in the seat to give the driver a clear line of sight.
Dad mostly used the vans for hauling stuff. That's another memory I have: Dad was always bringing stuff - such as scrap lumber - home. I guess he figured we might need it someday.
Dad had several big red toolboxes, and to this day I think about him when I see one.
My dad told the story of how he and five of his relatives were all at his uncle's hardware store. A gentleman came in and said, "Mr. Jones?" One of the guys replied, "Well, which one do you want? There's six of us here."
Our family has had cats for pets for as long as I can remember. Dad preferred cats to dogs, because he remembers being chased by dogs while delivering newspapers when he was younger.
One Christmas, my Dad's father was visiting. My sister had sat heavily ... okay, pretty much fell ... down in a chair, and Dad scolded her for wearing out the furniture. This inspired Papa to act out how *Dad* would plant himself down onto chairs when he was little.
When I was young we frequently had a garden. My dad would run the tiller and leave footprints in the freshly turned dirt. I would try to walk in those footprints, but I'd have to jump and still I couldn't quite follow them.
When I was in third grade, I got the chicken pox and couldn't go to school. My dad was helping out by working in his uncle's hardware store, and I got to go too. As I recall, I helped my dad put together a wagon.
Dad had a collection of old 45 records, and my sister and I would play DJ with our record player. Thanks to those records - which included songs like The Book of Love - and Dad's cassette recordings of a program called The History of Rock and Roll, my sister and I developed an early appreciation for the classics.
One day my dad was driving me into town, and we were listening to the radio. "Fast Movin' Train" by Restless Heart was playing. My dad happened to casually sing along with a line or two. I was amazed because my dad wasn't the kind of guy that usually did that. (Maybe I was just never around when he did ...)
Dad always listened to country music. I credit him with the fact that I still appreciate it.
Mom recalled him complaining that during his drive to work, the station kept playing Ricky Scaggs' music. (I'm guessing Dad wasn't a fan; or maybe he was like me and gets tired of hearing most songs over and over.)
On one occasion, while we were out and about - which didn't happen often - we stopped at Big Lots, and Dad bought me some colored eyeliner pencils.
Another time, Dad and I had gone into town, and we decided to stop at Captain D's.
I also recall two local family outings: a get-together at his friend's place and a picnic at a park by a river, given by his employer.
The summer after I was in sixth grade, our family went to Opryland, which was an amusement park in Nashville, Tennessee. One of the rides was "old-fashioned" cars. That was one of the few rides Dad would go on, and he let me drive. At one point, we paused, and the car behind us bumped into us a little. He turned around, and the boys in that car hastily apologized. Did I mention that my dad was a big guy?
Other family road trips that I remember are visits to Ave Maria Grotto and to the beach in south Alabama for a family friend's wedding.
We rode to the beach in a yellow two-door Camaro. Probably not the best choice for a traveling family of four. Recently I've come to suspect that Dad just wanted to drive a flashy car for a while.
Sometimes as we drove on bridges that went over a freeway, he'd say that we "ran over a trailer truck" when an 18-wheeler happened to be passing underneath us.
Once when a bug splattered across the windshield, he commented, "It took guts to do that."
He called vehicles with only one working headlight "Popeye".
Dad always shaved with Barbasol. Other brands I remember him using are Right Guard, Safe Guard, and Lava (soap).
When I was in high school, my dad surprised me one day with a radio cassette player.
He also, during a rare visit to a store, used his beer money to buy me a dress.
Once Mom, Dad, and I were working in the yard near the barn. Our large yard was mostly overgrown with vines and brush, and one of us (me, I think) mentioned needing a bulldozer to really clear the yard. I may have wondered aloud where we could get one, because I remember Dad replying that my "boyfriend's daddy" had one. Dad was referring to the neighborhood guy that I had a *huge* crush on, but Dad's calling him my boyfriend made me realize that I really liked the sound of it! ;)
In the early 90's my dad, sister and I took a road trip about forty miles to the local dam. (I forget why; I think we were just saying how we'd never been there.) We usually didn't do things like that, but it was a good time. We were allowed to visit a part of the dam that wasn't on the regular tour.
I bought these shoes to wear around our house, and I wore them alot because they were so comfortable. Dad must've noticed because he asked if the place I'd got them would have a pair in his size.
One time he asked me to stop at the Casual Male Big and Tall to get a robe/housecoat for him.
After I had worked for a while, I bought a loveseat. I should've mentioned this to Dad, because when the delivery men stopped at our house and started to unload it, Dad hurried outside telling them they had the wrong place. Fortunately, I was home too, and I ran out to explain that it was mine.
Until the last few years of his life, Dad didn't watch much television. So I was surprised one day when he decided to join me for one of my favorite shows, MacGyver. Unfortunately, that particular episode had a less-than-pleasant scene where a scientist was exposed to a bacteria that accelerated aging. Dad found that a bit disturbing, so he hastily left the room.
As mentioned above, for many years, he didn't watch much television. When he finally got one for the den - where he usually sat - it was a bit complicated to tune, and somehow that task fell to me. I'd be sitting in the living room, and I'd hear him call "Technician!" Then I'd trod into the den and say, "You rang?"
He enjoyed watching old movies - such as those starring Elvis Presley - again and again.
Whenever we were leaving my grandfather's house, Dad would always invite him to "go with us." I remember wondering what Dad would've done if PaPa had said okay.
As a treat, sometimes our family would get the three-for special of chili dogs from a local restaurant.
As an even bigger treat, we'd sometimes cross the river to go to a certain pizza place.
He always swore that the mild sauce at Taco Bell was hotter than the one that was actually labeled "hot."
I remember one day that my mother had gone to work and Dad was wondering what was for supper. I said that I was making myself some macaroni and cheese (from the blue box) and Dad replied, "No thanks, I drank at the branch."
I had a game called Shadowlord, and he always called it Shadow-world "because there's only one Lord."
One time we were locked out of our house, but Dad got the window open. Being the smallest, I offered to climb in and unlock the door, but Dad insisted first on trying to reach through the window to unlock the door. Alas, he couldn't quite reach, so he boosted me through the window. I unlocked the door and (in my young mind) saved the day.
Once when I was trying - as I often did - to state my "reasons" that I needed an allowance, my dad tossed me a penny and said that was my allowance. (Smarty pants. Must be where I get it.)
Many times whenever my sister and I would talk about some new thing that we wanted, Dad would say, "And how am I supposed to buy that? With my looks?"
Another Dad-ism: when one of us would say something that he didn't quite hear - or maybe it was something so crazy he just wanted to be sure he heard right - he'd say, "Do what?" My sister and I still use that as a response sometimes.
Dedications
Songs that remind me of my dad.
"That's My Job", by Conway Twitty
I woke up crying late at night
when I was very young.
I had dreamed my father
had passed away and gone.
My world revolved around him
I couldn't lay there anymore.
So I made my way down the mirrored hall
and tapped upon his door.
And I said "Daddy, I'm so afraid.
How will I go on with you gone that way?
Don't wanna cry anymore,
so may I stay with you?"
And he said "That's my job,
that's what I do.
Everything I do is because of you,
To keep you safe with me.
That's my job you see."
"The Impossible", by Joe Nichols
My dad chased monsters from the dark,
He checked underneath my bed.
And he could lift me with one arm way up over top his head.
He could loosen rusty bolts with a quick turn of his wrench,
And he pulled splinters from his hand and never even flinched.
In thirteen years I'd never seen him cry,
But the day that Grandpa died I realized.
Unsinkable ships sink, unbreakable walls break,
Sometimes the things you think will never happen
Happen just like that.
Unbendable steel bends
If the fury of the wind is unstoppable.
I've learned to never underestimate the impossible.
"The Living Years", by Mike & The Mechanics
I wasn't there that morning
When my father passed away.
I didn't get to tell him
All the things I had to say.
I think I caught his spirit
Later that same year.
I'm sure I heard his echo
In my baby's new born tears,
I just wish I could have told him in the living years.
"Time Marches On", by Tracy Lawrence
Sister calls herself a sexy grandma.
Brother's on a diet for high cholesterol.
Mama's out of touch with reality.
Daddy's in the ground beneath the maple tree.
As the angels sing an old Hank Williams song.
Time marches on, time marches on.
"The Greatest Man I Never Knew", by Reba Mcentire
The greatest man I never knew
Came home late every night.
He never had too much to say
Too much was on his mind.
I never really knew him
And now it seems so sad.
Everything he gave to us took all he had.
"Leader Of The Band", by Dan Fogelberg
I thank you for the music
And your stories of the road.
I thank you for the freedom
When it came my time to go.
I thank you for the kindness
And the times when you got tough,
And, Papa, I don't think I
Said "I love you" near enough --
The leader of the band is tired
And his eyes are growing old.
But his blood runs through my instrument
And his song is in my soul --
My life has been a poor attempt
To imitate the man.
I'm just a living legacy
To the leader of the band.
"Drive", by Alan Jackson
I'm grown up now
Three daughters of my own.
I let them drive my old Jeep
Across the pasture at our home.
Maybe one day they'll reach back in their file
And pull out that old memory
And think of me and smile,
And say:
It was just an old worn out Jeep
Rusty old floor boards
Hot on my feet.
A young girl, two hands on the wheel
I can't replace the way it made me feel,
And he'd say
"Turn it left, and steer it right
Straighten up girl now, you're doing just fine."
Just a little valley by the river where we'd ride
But I was high on a mountain
When Daddy let me
Drive.
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