Special Note: This has been therapeutic and fun to write this series about my daddy. I want to praise God for all fathers and especially our Heavenly Father. If you did not have (or continuing to not have) a good relationship with your father, my heart goes out to you! Even more, my prayers go out to you! This Part of the Ronald Series is a little difficult to frame. I pray it turns out well.
I was born to parents who were in their forties. Therefore, my high school years were their mid-late fifties. The age factor, plus my daddy was not nearly as strong post heart-attack one year prior to my high school career, created an often laissez faire life for me. They did not challenge me academically, and I sure wasn't going to ruin that! It's funny how those things catch up with you...like college. Many core classes were hard to me, and other students were breezing by. But, that's another story.
In ninth grade (since I had a late birthday), Ronald got to watch his son play football with the VRD Midget Varsity. We won the District and lost to Coffee County in the South Georgia Championship. My parents were always supportive in my athletic endeavors. I know they were at many games. They were probably at most games, but here's the age where my relationship with my parents was weird. Sometimes I wanted at my games, and sometimes I was glad if they didn't show up.
Those games of catch with daddy at 6:10 ceased at some point...not sure when. I was playing basketball with the guys in the neighborhood--seems like year round. But, we also played baseball, football, frisbee-golf, and all kinds-of-out-door-games. Fortunately, we did not have the great video games that are available now.As I try to remember back 40-years ago, I do not remember spending much time with daddy. My tenth-grade year major was having fun: during school, after school, and at night. My last official sports team was Pony League as a 15 year-old. Since the Babe Ruth League didn't make, the VRD allowed 15 year-olds to play with restrictions, such as maybe not being able to play the infield.
In the winter of my Junior year, my life changed. I got a job. I worked as a custodian/go-for at Sea Island Cotton Gin from that winter until right before I went to college. My boss was Mr. Cliff Davis. He was a great boss! Cliff let me increase my hours in the summer. He also, took time to show me proper selling techniques, such as keeping a display full and clean, Oh, did I say clean? Cliff kept everything neat and clean. He added much needed structure to my life. I appreciate all he did for me, and he certainly served as a strong-male role model for me.
In the last quarter of my senior year, I was one of the sorriest (as in non-productive) human beings alive! One trait I picked up was telling people I would do something, then not following through. Somehow that news got back to my daddy. He lectured me for an hour. Only those who knew him could imagine listening for an hour. It would be like the Negative of a Mike Brady talk! Yes, I was crying. At the time, I didn't like it at all. But, it was the most important hour Ronald spent with me! I NEEDED it! I never forgot the lesson: If you tell somebody you are going to do something, do it! As I look back at my life, I am grateful Ronald lived long enough to make it through my Senior year. He also hired me to deliver items to his customers. But, this had to happen on Saturday mornings, because I worked for Cliff on weekdays. This did not last long. Our relationship did not allow it. Don't get me wrong. I still loved my daddy, but we went through High School Senior/Daddy pains. To put a blanket over my behavior; I acted whacky sometimes. On more than one occasion, Daddy got mad at me. I was too big to whip, so he hauled off and hit me in the arm! HARD! It hurt. But, it got my attention (for a little while).
One demand that got under my skin was the 11:00 Curfew for the weekends. All I wanted was 11:30. "Nothing good ever happens after 11:00." REALLY?!
One of the best things that happened in my childhood was the fear I had for what my daddy might do to me if I did something wrong. I got plenty of whippings, but as I got older, I had no idea what he might do. That was a GREAT Thing! However...as a Senior, there were several times I pushed him on that 11:00 Curfew time. I don't remember anything happening---maybe a few words.
During my first quarter of college, cancer began to eat at my daddy---larynx and lungs. He was well enough that I drove him around the golf course during Thanksgiving Holidays. A few days before Christmas, he died. I was proud of his life. I missed him immediately. But, so many family members, church members, and friends poured out love.
In conclusion, daddies are really important. I am thankful for the exact one God gave me...Ronald!
No comments:
Post a Comment