Hello, and thank you for your time 😊
Today started out as usual. Trash day and the weekly grocery run. When I returned home and checked my social media, a topic came up where it made me think of my Dad. He passed away 22 years ago. I recently remembered I had some of his old memorabilia. Not many things, but fond memories of what I have.
First thing was his softball glove. He was a fast ball pitcher in the Navy. He could hurl a fast ball underhand at about 90 mph. Some days he would need to practice before a game, so my brother or I would play catcher for him. Being that we were only about 10 at the time, it took some gearing up. I usually wore my football gear and an extra glove inside the catchers mitt. Them pitches hit like a bullet, especially when the ball was bigger than my hand. But we got to go to many a game when he was playing. It was fun. We went to games every other weekend or so, to many parks around the area. At one time the Detroit Tigers scouted him to be on their team. But my dad could throw a ball farther underhand than he could overhand. He was also in the military, and worked at the Pentagon at the time, so no traveling.
I also have his old Soap Box Derby car from when we were in the Cub Scouts. It's in an old cigar box we've had ever since I was a puppy. He took such care in making his car that it won a ribbon for best show, even though it was a kids function. Those days were so much better socially. None of us won the races, but it was fun doing that stuff with him. Sometimes it's not about winning, so much as who you are in the race with. Sometimes we get so focused on winning that we stop thinking about how to help others win also.
The next item is an old car model box. A Canned Heat roadster model kit. The lid is loose and about to fall off, but I remember that box so well. He kept much of his model building stuff in that box. Scissors, a cutting razor, paint, toothpicks, pins, glue, and brushes. I was able to find his most favorite brush. It was a plain model paint brush, but he trimmed it down to just 3 or 4 bristles. He liked to take his time doing that, and we always kidded him about his 3 bristle brush. All of the models are gone now, but us males in the family enjoyed model time together. Sometimes building unusual cars with spare pieces.
Quite a few years back I asked Mom about his favorite fishing set. It was an old drop down spinning, lever actuated Shakespeare reel, mounted on an 8' fly rod. It was his main setup. Mom said it was sold in a garage sale before she moved. I miss that combo. He caught a State record qualifying largemouth bass on that rig in the Potomac River in Maryland. He was using chicken liver for catfishing. He had pulled up the rod to bring in his bait when the bass had mistaken it for a crawfish. It took him a while to reel it in, but it was 7 1/2 pounds. We were at school when it happened so we didn't get to see it, bit he got a certificate for it.
But I still have some of his favorite lures. One is a Budweiser beer can wiggle bait. He never caught anything on it, but it made him chuckle when he saw it. His other is a beat up Little Joe. Nothing really but a painted flat weight with hooks on it. He has caught more lost fishing poles with it, than fish. So he used to joke about fishing for fishing poles.
I can't find his harmonica, although I remember it well. He would play it on occasion. Before he passed, he tried to play it but he got too out of breath to finish. He was good at it, and I remember listening as a kid, and it was just fun and exciting.
Anyway, that's just a few memories of my Father and how it was growing up. Next year, I will be the same age as him when he passed.
If you are still in touch with your parents, please take the time to let them know they still matter. There is no guidebook to being a parent, so there are good times and bad times. Just keep all the good stuff, and get rid of the bad. You'll be better off in life with that approach.
Until next time..... 😀
4/25/21: I remembered a hilarious and surprising story about one of our fishing trips. I was about 10 or 11 then. My Dad, his work buddy, my brother and I went camping in the Shenendoah Mountains to go fishing. We just got our lunch ready (hot dogs and chips) and were getting ready to eat. My Dad had a plate of food in one hand, and a beer in the other. When he sat in his chair, it started rolling over sideways. So over he went. Did a complete turn feet over head, in his chair and fell out of it. When he sat up a few feet away, he had this blank look on his face from the fall. He was uninjured. We all sat there in disbelief when we saw he was still holding his plate and beer. Not even one potato chip fell off. We still don't know how he managed that, but it was so funny. That afternoon we were getting ready to cook the fish we caught. His buddy was standing too close to the fire trying to get warm, that he caught his pant leg on fire. In a hurry, my dad grabbed the closest thing to put it out, which was a bucket full of catfish. And since it rained most of the weekend we ended up all 4 of us sleeping in the back of his pickup, which was loaded with softball gear. I got to sleep on a bag full of bats. Such a wonderful memory :)
5/6/21: Earlier today I had the sad thoughts of when he passed away. I won't go into details now, but I was in the ER when they were trying to revive him. I was also at the house when they were trying to revive him. After 45 minutes with no success, I had a terrible decision to make, and it still haunts me. My Mother was also there, and kept insisting they keep trying. I knew what happened and what the severity of it was, and I had to let the medical staff know it was time to call it. It crushed me. While we were attending his funeral, my wife at the time was showing her ass trying to be the center of attention and got mad because people were not surrounding her and giving her their undivided attention. She was inconsolable and acting like a child, right there in front of my Dad's open casket. That evening as we lay in bed, I was dozing off and I felt a presence in the room. I began to connect with it, as I had a feeling that it was my Father. His death was so sudden he didn't get a chance to speak with anyone. I felt myself being lifted out of my body and ascend to the realm where we could have our final words. About half way into it, my wife taps me on the shoulder and says "I'm leaving you when we get home". I found myself back in my body having to deal with this situation of her tantrum. I never had the opportunity to speak with my Father after that.
No comments:
Post a Comment