In Honor of Father's Day....My Dad

My dad is an interesting character. When I was a little girl, he and I were very close. I was and am his "baby." My dad was much older when I was born. He was 30 and would turn 31 the following month while he was 22 and 25 years old when my siblings were born.

When I was small, my dad took me to cafes and truck stops where all the local farmers shared gossip. He supplied quarters for the pinball machine and even demonstrated his own abilities in the game. When I turned eight years old, our family's world seemed to fall apart. The trade my father had been in almost from birth, farming, became a failure. I know he felt a huge burden because farming had been a family trade for the eldest son for many generations.

My dad took a job at a local factory. A picnic held at that factory would result in an injury that unveiled my first case of cancer. If it had never been caught, I likely would not be living. The years 1985-1986 were horrible for the family. My dad lost his job, I became ill, and my older brother lapsed into a substance abuse problem. My parents had marital problems during these stresses and our family almost fell apart. In spite of it all and what was to come, my parents will celebrate their 43^rd wedding anniversary this August.

My dad went through many of the same pains as my mom. He too lost his dad on the last day of 1976 after a 1 month and 2 week diagnosis of colon cancer. His father-in-law died three weeks later and he doted on his father-in-law. He faced the problems of 1985-1986 and he had the added responsibility of feeling as though it was he who failed when he went bankrupt. Back to back years brought a drought and a flood that wiped away a lot of what he earned. I do not believe he could have changed anything that happened. As with everyone's lives, bad things happen. Clearly, he did blame himself.

Typical father-daughter problems began in my teens. I blamed him for my cancer because he smoked cigarettes. Well, I told him I blamed him for it. At the time I had no idea the actual problem was a gene he inherited from his father or even in my teenaged meanness I never would have said my cancer was his fault.

Now I know he sits in a place similar to me in blaming himself for my condition and now Owen and Hannah showing positive for the gene. This was not how I wanted to bond with my father but it has resulted in us becoming much closer. He typically drives me the six hour trips to Little Rock for screening services when we talk about everything-usually culminating in politics and how the Republicans are ruining everything. *Conservatives please don't flame me--I'm way more of an Independent than my dad*

When I was a little girl, my dad often bought me a toy even when my mom said not to buy me toys because we needed the money to get to the hospital in Memphis. My mom was being rational. Some may believe my dad was being irrational but those memories are some of my most positive ones. There was no shortage of love from my dad-shown by those purchases but also in other ways. The teen years stripped away a bit of our closeness but now I see him as being a hero just as my mom.

My dad survived something the physicians did not believe he would. In 1994, I was having senior pictures taken when my sister called the photography place to tell us dad was in trouble. He had gone blind for a few minutes, called my grandma, and then 9-1-1. We were told he likely had a stroke but by the time we arrived at the hospital a cat-scan showed a burst aneurysm. At the point we arrived in the hospital, my dad was acting normal. I was scared because it was the first time anyone besides me had been seriously ill in my immediate family. Dad was transported to a more equipped hospital where he underwent immediate surgery. The next time I saw him his face was swollen, we could not understand a word he said besides "no!" He did not look like the same person but somehow I knew he would pull through. After months of rehabilitation he did pull through though but never enough to work again. His being unable to work hurt his pride as it does everyone in that position with any sense of dignity.

As with my mom I would say my dad's happiest years were 1968, 1971, 1977, 1991, 1999, 2003, and 2005 when his children and grandchildren were born. He was especially happy to finally have a granddaughter with red hair-technically Hannah's highlights are red but he said he knew he would get the red haired granddaughter he wanted since the first pregnancy of one of his children in 1991. As he ages, we are noticing the effects of the brain aneurysm more. He often leaves the oven on or forgets to do something important. His kindness and empathy have improved greatly but his health is failing as anyone who knows him can see.

To imagine the world without my dad also brings tears into my eyes. Thank God he survived the aneurysm that almost cost his life and met three of his four grandchildren born following the incident. The youngest is now reaching an age where she will hopefully always have a memory of her grandfather and because I missed out on that with both of mine-it means a lot.

My dad is equally responsible for my being a Christian and I will never forget when he sat beside me at my grandmother's Southern Baptist church. The pastor asked, "Do you want to join the Southern Baptist church?" I fell silent and my dad said, "I want her to explore other denominations and make up her own mind." I followed his advice. I have studied Free Will Baptist, Southern Baptist, Assembly of God, Church of Christ, read information on LDS, Roman Catholicism, and even studied with Jehovah's Witnesses and now help teach a preschool Sunday school class at a Southern Baptist church. My family joined in 2003 when I was five months pregnant with our first child. This same congregation was one my great-great grandfather attended beginning in 1896. My grandmother was saved and baptized at this congregation and the church now holds services in a much modified building that was once the Attica schoolhouse where both my grandma and Shawn's grandpa went to school.

Across the road from the church, is the grocery store my great-grandfather ran during WWII and my father was born in the residence in the back of the store.

My dad has taught me that life comes full circle and that is not anything bad. He has taught me to think for myself rather than listen to what he terms "propaganda". In recent years I have learned he also taught me compassion and giving to other people. I am incredibly proud he is my dad.

*Picture coming later. I WILL figure that scanner out today!!!!*