My Dad...The Cat's in the Cradle....and other introspective stuff

                                                                                                                                                                              
OK, let me get this clear from the get-go....this is NOT going to be me at a shrink session, lying flat on my back on some couch somewhere with a box of tissues on my stomach and spouting out a lot of psycho-babble.
At the same time I'm not going to blame my dad for not being around all the time. I know it's fashionable for son's to blame their father's for not being around....the Harry Chapin song, Cat's in the Cradle expresses that sentiment very eloquently!! 
I realize that during my fathers generation and to some extent, mine too, husbands and dads that are trying to climb that corporate ladder of success have to be away from their families more than other dads who don't have the same corporate pressures to succeed. Husbands and fathers become an easy target for their wives and children to blame all the dis-functionality that is going on in the family unit.

I will have to admit that I thought this way once but not any more....I have had a tremendous amount of time to think about this and it's not fair to my dad!

My dad died at the ripe young age of 57 (I was with him when he died), just when I was starting to get to really know him. My son was just 6 months old when he died so he didn't get to see what a great kid my son was or what a great man my son is growing up to be. My religious beliefs do vary from time to time (usually when it suits my needs) but if there is a heaven...then I hope my dad (and mom too) are looking down on him with awe and respect! I'll have to admit, I am a little mad at my dad for dying so young because I do believe that his life style was the major contributor to his early demise. I'm not going into all of that but let's just say, he didn't take care of himself the way he should of.

I do not have a lot of memories about my dad...as noted, he was away a lot. My first real memories were when we lived in Washington DC. I remember helping him work in the yard (when he did that kind of thing). The picture above was one of those times...my dad gave me my first beer at the age of four or five. I remember him taking me with him when he went to play golf on weekends. I would ride around in the cart. I think he took me when my mom wanted me out of the house. I remember him taking me into The District of Columbia and him taking me into these large office buildings. I'm sure he was working but not real sure at what he was working at. I remember him taking us sightseeing in Washington and always bumping into people he knew. It seemed like he knew people everywhere. I also remember him leaving us with our mom while he walked away and talked to these "friends" of his. Like I said...during that time in Washington I really did not know what his real job was but I think it was something very interesting. For the most part I have very good memories of my dad. I remember car trips to Florida and Columbus for vacations. I remember when we bought a boat and the both of us attending Power Squadron school together. I remember our little cottage on the Severn River down by Annapolis Maryland and him and one of his friends taking me out into the Chesapeake Bay to sail. I remember trips to Atlantic City, Ocean City, Wildwood and Rehoboth Beach. To New York and out to the Hamptons and Martha's Vineyard to be with my Grandmother. I remember him speeding...he always drove fast and I remember him getting stopped by the police and getting  tickets...especially in small town America. Maybe that's why my son and I drive fast...it's an inherited quality that has been passed down. I'm sure that if I knew my fathers father, I would have learned that he drove fast too...my dad's dad was one of the original car guys. My grandfather has a real colorful story to tell but since I don't know all the details then I'm not going to delve into it. At the turn of the century my paternal grandfather was a very successful man in Ohio and was on his way to becoming more and more successful....then the Depression hit! I remember lots of good thing but that's just it, they are things but any memories are good memories.

My only really bad memories of my dad is when we were living in San Antonio and I had graduated from high school and was attending a variety of colleges, mostly to stay out of the draft. It was the mid to late 60's and the culture was changing every day. I think both my sister and I pushed the limits on just about everything  we did. I will talk about this period of my life in a later blog but needless to say...it was the best of times, it was the worst of times. I remember my mother ALWAYS being the referee between me and my dad...I also remember my mom taking my side more often than not and I think that created a lot of tension between my parents. My dad was ALWAYS on me for my hair, my clothes, my friends, my music, my cars, my lifestyle, my education, my thoughts about military service and everything else that was important to me at the time. I will have to admit I was an over indulged asshole with lots of money during this time. I had a day job while I attended college but I also found ways of making money on the side. No, I didn't sell drugs but I did find legal ways of making lots and lots of money, especially for a kid my age...and oh yeah...I had a pretty good allowance!! Because of my dad's job during those times, my sister and I had a new car to drive every six months...you don't think that was a trip. My sister is 5 years younger than me so I was able to take more advantage of the car deal my dad had. To sum up this period, I remember what my dad told me when he was transferred to Oklahoma City from San Antonio. I was reluctant to move with the family to Oklahoma...I was having way to much fun in San Antonio with my so called friends. When I told my dad that I was really not wanting to move (I was over 18 so I could make any decision I wanted to back then)..he sat me down and talked to me "man to man" and this is what he said..with a tear in his eye....he said.."son, if you don't come with the family to Oklahoma and make a new start...you will die here or go to jail for the rest of your life". WOW...REALITY JUST SET IN!!

My dad died in mid July, 1976...just after the Bicentennial celebrations. My dad was attending a show that was going on in Tulsa Oklahoma. The show was being put on by the company I worked for at the time. It was a tradition for my dad to rent the nicest Presidential suite he could find in Tulsa and put on an "after party" for the big wigs of my company. No, I was NEVER invited....it wasn't until after his death, I found out what these parties entailed. Again, I won't go into the specifics. Around two in the morning our telephone rung and one of my dad's coworkers was on the phone telling me that I needed to get down to the hotel as fast as I could because my dad had fallen ill and there was an ambulance taking him to the hospital. As I drove up to the front of the hotel, the ambulance was sitting out front and I saw my dad inside. The medics were working on him and I noticed they all had very grim expressions...I climbed into the back of the ambulance and took my dads hand...he looked at me and smiled...then one of the medics told me to get out and follow them to Hillcrest hospital, just two minutes away...and that's all he said. I got into my car...pulled into the emergency parking area and went inside...then I waited, and waited and waited...seemed like forever....then I remember a nun like lady asking if I wanted to wait in the chapel and I said HELL NO!! I know she was just trying to be nice but at the time...I looked at waiting in the chapel as bad karma. It wasn't long after that, the doctor came out and said the usual stuff...."we did all we could do, but he was to far gone to save...yada, yada, yada". Quite frankly, after those words, I really don't have any memories at all. I don't remember if Teri (my wife at the time) was with me or not..I don't remember my son being with me...all I remember were those words. My next memory was that I was going to have to call my mother but I decided to call my sister instead. My sister and her husband were in Oklahoma City and I thought if my sister could tell my mom, at least she would be there to console her and take care of her. So that's what I did...I called my sister. There's an old adage that says...any phone calls after midnight are NOT good news!! Jody will have to take up the story from there.

There is an after story to this but again, I'll save it for another time...all I can say about that is to not die in a hotel room in Tulsa Oklahoma!!

Thanks for reading and I will tackle memories of my mom in my next blog.