As I sit here at home waiting to go back out into the woods, I've been having enjoyable thoughts of my father who passed away two years ago today. I felt I would also honor him here with a few words for the world to see.
Dad lived to be 88. His love for mom killed him I do believe. They were married 60 years. There were four of us kids, I being the youngest. Dad grew up in the '20's & '30's. He was the part of " The Best Generation Ever". He was raised with next to nothing but love & temperment. He went to war, was at the Battle of the Bulge and beyond, then came home, went to college, got married & raised a family. The things we take for granted today would be considered uninmaginal back then. Airplanes were just a novelty, telephones where a luxury & if you wanted a glass of milk, go milk a cow. I never called him father, just dad ... or a few other choice words after he took me to the basement with his belt. I'll never forget the sound of a belt coming out of the loops. Just the same, I deserved every trip down ! Dad & I never did have a serious personal conversation. He wasn't a hard man, but he wasn't soft either. As a kid growing up, you never understand a parents love and the sacrifices they make for you. As he got older, he did become all the more softer, especially when there are grandkids. Then you wonder why he was never that fun with you growing up. I don't have kids of my own, but I wouldn't trade my childhood for anything just the same. I never got everything I wanted, though you'd swear all the other kids around did. Only dad worked ... mom's full time job was at home. In this day & age, as a lot of you will atest, that's almost unheard of now. My dad was a churchman of all churchmen. He loved his lord & he could've been a good preacher if he wanted. As a church elder, he did just that at times. He was an outdoorsman too. he use to go on canadian fishing trip.... pontoon plane & all back in the '60's. What a thrill it was when he came home. I never did see him with a somewhat beard at any other time & the fish he brought back home great. He did take me rabbit hunting a few times in high school, but nothing much ever came of it. It wasn't until the early '80's when he & mom returned from working in Italy that I got him back into deer hunting. We never went to any camps, but the stories I grew up with from grandpa & him had me hooked for life. He was retired by then, & then came grandkids... quite a few. So he was always busy. Dad was a very smart man & he could remember everything. He was an engineer for Rockwell. The last five years proved taxting. Mom developed Alzhimers. Things were going downhill with each passing year. It got to the point where a plan was formulated to have her placed in a facility when dad was ready. He never was. He held on, just the two of them living in the same house for over 50 years, caring for her & dealing with the monster that this disease became. He was starting to go downhill too in the last year of his life, but he held on to mom & did what he thought was best. You can't imagine putting deadbolts on the inside to keep her in at night.
When I first said that I believed mom killed him, it's more like his love for her killed him. The stress of what he had to endure day to day, even though we helped, took it's toll is what I beleive. He never wanted to give up. He wanted to keep her home & made his last scarifice by caring for her as long as his body would allow. He developed a head bleed inside on this day two years ago & lucky for all, I was to go over & see them that morning, but I wanted to go in the woods first, not knowing anything different. I just happened to call it quits earlier in the morning than I planned & recieved a call from mom that dad fell again when I walked in the house. I talked to him a bit on the phone, which he said he was ok, but did fall. I could tell he was wore out, so I called my sis at work to meet me there & was a good thing. She called the squad & when I arrived, he was pale as a ghost & didn't say much. That was the last time I ever talked to him. He never woke after arriving at the hospital & we decided to let him go after watching & being told of the CT results. So that's that. Mom died exactly a year & a half after going thru hell in more ways already. It's certainly hell to get old as they say. I see that everyday when I'm at work just the same.
So enjoy your parents.
Dad lived to be 88. His love for mom killed him I do believe. They were married 60 years. There were four of us kids, I being the youngest. Dad grew up in the '20's & '30's. He was the part of " The Best Generation Ever". He was raised with next to nothing but love & temperment. He went to war, was at the Battle of the Bulge and beyond, then came home, went to college, got married & raised a family. The things we take for granted today would be considered uninmaginal back then. Airplanes were just a novelty, telephones where a luxury & if you wanted a glass of milk, go milk a cow. I never called him father, just dad ... or a few other choice words after he took me to the basement with his belt. I'll never forget the sound of a belt coming out of the loops. Just the same, I deserved every trip down ! Dad & I never did have a serious personal conversation. He wasn't a hard man, but he wasn't soft either. As a kid growing up, you never understand a parents love and the sacrifices they make for you. As he got older, he did become all the more softer, especially when there are grandkids. Then you wonder why he was never that fun with you growing up. I don't have kids of my own, but I wouldn't trade my childhood for anything just the same. I never got everything I wanted, though you'd swear all the other kids around did. Only dad worked ... mom's full time job was at home. In this day & age, as a lot of you will atest, that's almost unheard of now. My dad was a churchman of all churchmen. He loved his lord & he could've been a good preacher if he wanted. As a church elder, he did just that at times. He was an outdoorsman too. he use to go on canadian fishing trip.... pontoon plane & all back in the '60's. What a thrill it was when he came home. I never did see him with a somewhat beard at any other time & the fish he brought back home great. He did take me rabbit hunting a few times in high school, but nothing much ever came of it. It wasn't until the early '80's when he & mom returned from working in Italy that I got him back into deer hunting. We never went to any camps, but the stories I grew up with from grandpa & him had me hooked for life. He was retired by then, & then came grandkids... quite a few. So he was always busy. Dad was a very smart man & he could remember everything. He was an engineer for Rockwell. The last five years proved taxting. Mom developed Alzhimers. Things were going downhill with each passing year. It got to the point where a plan was formulated to have her placed in a facility when dad was ready. He never was. He held on, just the two of them living in the same house for over 50 years, caring for her & dealing with the monster that this disease became. He was starting to go downhill too in the last year of his life, but he held on to mom & did what he thought was best. You can't imagine putting deadbolts on the inside to keep her in at night.
When I first said that I believed mom killed him, it's more like his love for her killed him. The stress of what he had to endure day to day, even though we helped, took it's toll is what I beleive. He never wanted to give up. He wanted to keep her home & made his last scarifice by caring for her as long as his body would allow. He developed a head bleed inside on this day two years ago & lucky for all, I was to go over & see them that morning, but I wanted to go in the woods first, not knowing anything different. I just happened to call it quits earlier in the morning than I planned & recieved a call from mom that dad fell again when I walked in the house. I talked to him a bit on the phone, which he said he was ok, but did fall. I could tell he was wore out, so I called my sis at work to meet me there & was a good thing. She called the squad & when I arrived, he was pale as a ghost & didn't say much. That was the last time I ever talked to him. He never woke after arriving at the hospital & we decided to let him go after watching & being told of the CT results. So that's that. Mom died exactly a year & a half after going thru hell in more ways already. It's certainly hell to get old as they say. I see that everyday when I'm at work just the same.
So enjoy your parents.
