Earlier this week, I flew out to St. Louis to attend my
father’s funeral (which was held in Illinois). Up until then, I was constantly
going over in my head what I would say at his funeral. I knew I was going to
read my poem at his funeral, but I also wanted to share some memories of my
dad. I picked some of the memories which I thought represented the many
different facets of my father. My dad was a complicated person. I take after
him like that. I am a complicated person, too. There was no one-size-fits-all
definition for him. He was different in so many ways. But all of those many
different facets of my dad were what made him the kind of person that is hard
to forget.
The other night, I was texting with my youngest sister,
who was still back east. (She flew out of there yesterday.) We got to talking
about the house we once lived in in St. Louis. Well, I lived there, with my
parents and some siblings. This sister was not yet born. This house is where
one of my other sisters was born. Well, my sister wanted to drive out to see
the house. I told her that when we lived there, my dad and my Uncle Mike used
to go down the hill behind the house close to the river and go fishing. I can
still see it in my mind very clearly; I still remember them going down that hill
together, carrying their fishing poles.
I also remember how, when I was a child, my dad often
drove out to the Santa Anita racetrack to bet on the ponies. He loved playing
the horses and he loved those horses, too. I can still remember reading those
race line-ups in the race bulletins he brought home from there. I always liked
reading the interesting names of the horses in the races. Not too long ago, I
purchased a stein of the Santa Anita racetrack. It has pictures of the
racehorses on it, too. I bought the stein because it reminded me of Dad, how he
often went there.
Dad was often up bright and early in the morning. I
always felt this came from his military days, when he was in the Army. He’d be
up at 5 a.m. without fail every day. Sometimes, I woke up early to find him
already at the kitchen table, drinking his coffee and reading the newspaper. He
was always making the morning coffee, every day. That was his thing. He’d get
up at 5 and make coffee. Well, I later started doing the same thing, but these
days it’s 5:30 for me. But when I do that, I think of Dad and how that was his
routine, too.
Dad took us to Disneyland a lot. He loved Disneyland. We
all have a lot of Disneyland pictures with our parents in them. In fact, one
picture on my wall is of my parents at Disneyland. Such good memories from
those many visits. Of course, we also went to Knott’s Berry Farm and Magic
Mountain. Even Great America, when we lived in Northern California. But
Disneyland always held a special place in my father’s heart.
My dad was born in Los Angeles proper and his mother
lived there for a very long time. I remember trips out to L.A. to visit with my
grandmother. Now every time I think of L.A., I remember those days of visiting
there. Sometimes my dad’s brother, Bill, would be at my grandmother’s house
when we visited. I remember playing card games with him. He always tricked me
with that “52 Pick-up” game! We did live in Southern California for a very long
time after Dad married my mom (who was from back east – she was born in
Missouri but lived in Illinois too), but we never lived in Los Angeles proper.
But we did drive out to L.A. a lot to visit my grandmother. Then it was also to
the hospital out there in Sherman Oaks when I had to go see Dr. Grossman or to
visit my older brother, who still lives in Southern California. (The thing I
love about my family is that we have strong roots both in California AND
Illinois. Apparently, we’re all a complicated bunch. There just is not one
thing about us!)
My parents often got on each other’s nerves, as often
happens with any married couple, and there was one time my mother almost
married another man when she separated from my dad (though they were not
legally divorced). But that never happened and my parents got back together. No
matter what, my parents loved each other. My dad tried to make my mom happy. My
mom was a stay-at-home mom and worked hard to cook, clean and care for us 7
kids even though she’d lost half her leg in the accident she and I had been in.
But Mom was a fighter and she NEVER expected anyone to feel sorry for her or
act like she had a reason to bow out of her responsibilities. Even when in a
wheelchair, she did what she had to do. And my dad did what he could to make
her job easier. He had us kids helping out around the house. Whenever my mom
made dinner, he’d go around, gathering us all up and making sure we were at the
table for dinner. If we didn’t listen, oh, we were in trouble. My dad was
constantly on our backs until we got to that dinner table to sit down and eat.
I also remember how my parents often settled in for the
night in their room, watching their shows. Star
Trek, Hill Street Blues, Columbo and Trapper John, M.D. Dad often hid a bag of candy near his side of
the bed (he had such a sweet tooth!) and he’d lie there with my mom, watching
TV and eating candy from his bag. That was their thing every night. They would
settle in and watch TV together. My parents also enjoyed watching movies
together. He loved Casablanca. He
also liked Bridge on the River Kwai, The Taking of Pelham 123, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, North by Northwest, The Good, the Bad and the Ugly, A
Man Called Horse and Three Days on
the Condor. He also liked Cary Grant movies, James Bond movies, John Wayne
movies, Clint Eastwood movies, James Dean movies and Alfred Hitchcock films.
Like my mom, Dad loved music. My siblings remember more
about this than I do, especially since I became deaf when I was 13 and pretty
much didn’t stay in the loop about the kind of music my dad liked to listen to.
But what I do remember is that he liked Frank Sinatra (especially the song “My
Way”), the Gatlin Brothers, Simon & Garfunkel, Creedence Clearwater and the
Beach Boys. He also liked Elvis, although Mom was a MUCH bigger fan of Elvis
than Dad was.
I remember the big steak dinners that Dad used to make.
He was famous for his steaks. He made them really good and we always enjoyed
those dinners. I have never had a steak the way Dad used to make them and I
tried many times to learn how to make a steak like he did but I never quite got
a handle on it. He also loved to barbecue – the hot dogs and hamburgers. His
barbecue burgers were the best. And it was always a treat when Dad made his
famous banana splits. My mom may have been the main cook in the house but my
dad could cook a meal like nobody’s business. That was one of his talents. (HE
WAS a cook in the Army.) He could cook up all kinds of things and it was always
good. He even taught Mom how to make one of the dishes they served in the Army
because he liked it so much.
Another thing my dad was good at was painting. He was a
painter. He painted houses. I remember seeing pictures of him wearing paint
clothes at some job site or another. Even my mom would occasionally paint with
him before the accident. My husband even painted houses with him. Dad did odd
jobs here and there – cleaning flus (he had his own flu-cleaning business once
upon a time), putting up Christmas lights and working in construction – but Dad
never really stopped painting houses, even in his last years. In fact, the last
house he painted was the same one his funeral was held in.
Because we moved around so much, we didn’t often see all
of our relatives as we grew up. But we did see many of them in the different
places where we lived. My dad’s sister, Aunt Dot, lived in Las Vegas, Nevada,
so we saw her often when we lived there. His other sister, Millie, lived in the
California desert, in Indio, so we saw her a lot when we lived in the desert.
Once my Aunt Pat and Uncle Bus visited my grandmother when she lived in Indio
during her last years so we’d go out there to see them too. My Uncle Jerry
lived in Southern California for a time, so we saw him and Aunt Lita a lot and
my cousin, Joe, when we lived there. Dad would often get a phone call from
Uncle Jerry and every time he took the phone to talk to him, he’d say in a loud
voice, “Hey, Jerry!” My Uncle Jerry was so funny on the phone. If any of us
kids answered it when he called, he’d talk in silly voices or pretend to be
somebody else before finally admitting it was him. Dad would always laugh and
he knew it was him.
Dad once had a huge sports cards collection. There were
maybe thousands of sports cards from different sports. He had boxes of them.
That was one of his big hobbies. He’d often pick up a Topps Magazine to stay
updated on what cards were hot or which cards were rare collectibles. He really
had some good ones. Some of us siblings even got in on that, too, and I learned
a lot about the hobby of collecting sports cards. My dad and I both eventually
lost our card collections but I’m always going to remember that about him. That
and how he’d often sit at the table reading sports magazines.
Another thing Dad took interest in was koi fish. He used
to have a huge fish tank with koi fish in it. He was REALLY into that! He read
a lot about koi fish and taking care of them, as well as maintaining the tank,
was serious business for him.
Dad also loved eagles. We often got him eagle things for
Father’s Day or his birthday – eagle pictures, eagle plates.
If you asked my father what his religion was, he’d say “Christian.”
But Dad never took anything at face value. He often reminded me about reading
Bible passages very carefully, to pay attention to what was being said and how
it could be interpreted. He had a HUGE Bible Concordance that was an exhaustive
reference book about the Bible and he used it a lot. I’ll never forget Dad and
his religious books. He didn’t just read the Bible; he studied it. He also read
other books like Oahspe, the Apocrypha and The Dead Sea Scrolls in English.
Dad was curious about a lot of things. He was interested
in herbal medicine and once made using plants and herbs for medicinal purposes
a big deal for him and my mom. He often shared with me how certain herbs helped
certain ailments. He was always curious about what kind of predictions people
had for a year or for the future. He read those a lot. He also took an interest
in the life of Nostradamus and his predictions. He was always fascinated about
what people thought might happen. He even read his horoscope. He was just
really intrigued by all of that. He also read about various religions and
beliefs in the world. He would get into lengthy discussions with people about
all kinds of topics – history, religion, cosmology and science – because of all
the things he read about. Dad read every day – he read newspapers, magazines,
tabloids, books and advertisements. He was really curious about a lot of things
going on in the world.
I have so many good memories of my dad and I am grateful
he was in my life. He taught me a lot and influenced me in a lot of ways. My
dad was a fighter and he passed that fighting spirit on to a lot of his
children. He was a creative, funny, smart and daring person who wasn’t ever
afraid to walk up to strangers and strike up a conversation with them. Dad was
the kind of guy you could rely on to fix something or take care of something.
If you needed to talk, he was there to listen. He was the kind of father who
was an ACTUAL father. He stepped up and took responsibility. He was there for
his kids in whatever way he could be. Dad lived a wild and crazy life and he
left a lasting impression in so many peoples’ lives. There are a lot of people
who won’t forget him.
Now Dad is at rest and has found peace. He has gone to be
with my mom now. Rest in peace, Dad. We love you and will never forget you.
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