In Memory of Dad

My dad passed away last year, a year ago today, in fact. I went yesterday to visit the site on Blue Ridge Parkway where we spread his ashes, spent some time praying, crying, remembering, laughing, and deciding. I remembered I’ll see him again one day.

I was Tweeting a lot of these, and decided they might be better in a blog post so I don’t annoy the Twitter community. Here are some bite-sized memories of Dad that I’ve been thinking about today:

• Dad and I used to sing the Doxology and “Oh, How I Love Jesus” while riding around town in the car. Yeah, I’m a PK (Preacher’s Kid).
• Dad and I made up a nonsense song that we sang every time “The Price is Right” came on TV, before I was old enough for school. It went like this (best I can remember): “Come on down, Carvey Wright / Come on down, front here to, / Come on down, Carvey Wright, / Your seat buckles, too.”
• Nikombo lombusté! – a nonsense phrase of general excitement, much like Huzzah, except Dad made it up.
• Dad used to take me to a run-down lake resort that had cheap admission to their pool / waterslide, it was called Waldo’s Beach.
• Dad used to take me to all the libraries in town. There were three – my favorite was the big headquarters library downtown. It’s where I got my first love of computers using an Apple IIe to play “Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?” He taught me about getting the library to order books for you, and borrowing music cds and reading the paper for free there. He took me to library events, and sometimes bought me books at the used book sale.
• Dad used to get me all sorts of weird stuff at the Goodwill Store. Parts of sets of encyclopedias (the knowledge is still good, if not somewhat outdated!), old books, toys. I remember an antique schooldesk for my sister to use to play “teacher” and really do a lot of my early education that got me on the path to “academically gifted” in school.
• Dad and I used to go to KFC (Kentucky Fried Chicken) and he’d get a large drink and I’d get a medium and we’d sit and read our library books and drink soda from the fountain until it was time to go get Mom from work. (This, candy, junk food, and genetic disposition *might* be why I have diabetes. Not blaming, just saying I should have probably learned to drink diet soda early on.) At some point, Dad started getting free drinks because the ladies at KFC liked him. Dad was a sweet man and never seemed to not have a lady flirting with him if they knew him.
• I used to make Mom and Dad fight because I would always go to Dad first to ask if I could eat a tv dinner instead of what Mom was making, because I knew he’d let me have my way. She used to make really good food, it’s just that when you’re a kid you’re really picky and want fun kid things to eat, like hotdogs and pizza and french fries and chicken fingers.
• Dad, when he had a job, had a Sams Club membership and he bought me candy in bulk to sell for nickels, dimes, and quarters out in our front yard. We don’t live in a time when that’s really safe anymore, but it was a neat way for me to earn money.
• When Dad was between churches, we’d have church at home. He called it “The Church Without Walls,” and we were non-denominational. He’d read scripture, we’d sing a few songs and pray. Best of all, we could go in our pajamas.
• Dad always wanted to write a book. I kind of wanted to pick up that dream, but I don’t think for now it’s what I really want to do. He lingered and procrastinated at it for too long and it never got done. I think I will consider myself accomplished as a blog writer.
• This kid on my bus gave me a hard time a lot and called me names, hit me in the arm a lot. I told him to stop but he wouldn’t. I wasn’t asking for help, I was just telling my dad about it, but he insisted on going down to the boy’s house and talking to his parents about it. It’s embarassing for a kid to have your dad do that, but I knew he was just looking out for me.
• Dad wore Old Spice, the kind that came in the vanilla off-white colored bottle and had the sailing ship on the front. He also wore musky colognes like Stetson or cowboy-ishly named drugstore brand musks. Sometimes he would put that on and combined with his “natural” scent it’d overwhelm me a little bit as a kid and I’d get a little woozey.
• Dad gave me a razor without the blade when I was 10 so that I could start “shaving,” whenever he did.
• Dad worked for the Postal Service for a little while.
• Dad taught me to duck and cover whenever the Jehovah’s Witnesses / Mormons rang the door bell.
• A daycare center was having a “free trial” day and was giving away free teddy bears, so dad dropped me off there for the day once and I got to play with some kids and eat snacks and I got a free teddy bear. We didn’t go back.
• Dad always had crazy schemes and ideas to try and prompt us to go do something fun or enterprising.
• Dad was always good for a laugh – he’d tickle me, or laugh when I tickled him. He’d tell corny jokes or laugh at mine.

I have less of these good memories to share after Dad got really bad off and went into the nursing home, but we still share some good memories from then, too. I’d poke him and go “poke” and he’d say “poke” back. We’d go through and practice our pirate phrases. I’d call him a “poophead” and tell him I was going to go push his wheelchair into traffic and he’d just laugh and laugh. I’d call him “retarded chicken” and then go “bock bock, bah-DUNH” and it’d make him laugh really hard. He always would smile at Mom and just stare at her. I made a recording for Mom of Dad singing “You are my Sunshine,” and gave it to her for Christmas.

There’s more, but I think this is good for now. Rest in Peace with Jesus, Dad. I’ll see you again one day.