One of my earliest memories is one of my dad making breakfast. He made amazing pancakes and eggs. So good, in fact, that we would sometimes have them for dinner. Through my dad I was introduced to sugar and butter, not syrup, on pancakes.
He also introduced me to Johnny Cash. I remember my dad singing Folsom Prison Blues and Boy Named Sue around the house. He had a great baritone voice. My dad loved Cash, Dolly Parton and lived by the musical motto "there are two kinds of music...Country ...and Western".
I also remember my dad being a fiercly proud Marine. I knew what Iwo Jima and Mount Sarabachi were before I knew what Grover was. My dad was stationed at Camp Pendelton when I was born and some of my earliest school memories took place while we lived at Camp Lejune! My dad felt he got out of the military way too early and probably would have died active military if he could. He believed in God and Country and serving both.
Maybe my favorite memory though is one that happened when he was fixing the taillights on my car. He didn't want me to drive from Sacramento back to LA with a faulty taillight. While the car repair was routine, it was the conversation that was memorable. It was the one where my dad told me that he could have been a better father and should have been around more. I could tell with the sadness in his voice that he truly regretted missing birthdays, graduations, first dates and all the minutae of raising kids. He never had any with my stepmother and I felt bad for him. I also felt relieved to hear him say sorry!
I speak in the past tense because my dad died early last year. My stepmother didn't bother to call. We found out, rather fittingly, from the military as they cut off my mother's access to his pension. I don't necessarily miss him per say because I don't feel I truly knew him enought to miss him. However, given the chance, I do believe I would have known a truly good man. Like this post? Please share it, bookmark it or leave a comment.
1 comments:
I am gratified that you were able to have such a conversation with your father after so long a time. At times I thought that there must have been something in his life that made him behave in such an detached manner toward those who should have been the closest to him. I do hope that he is now at peace.
I must admit, after reading this blog, I amsad and a tiny bit jealous that my own parents never offered me the same conversational consideration after numerous opportunities.
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