My dad was born in 1934 to a sharecropper’s family in Wapanucka, OK. The sixth of 14 kids, he was raised to believe in God, in his parents, and in hard work. Early in his life his family moved to Arkansas in hope of escaping the worst of the dust bowl, and in 1940 they moved back to Oklahoma – literally in a covered wagon. In the eighth grade Dad dropped out of school to pick cotton, and he worked steadily for the next 73 years. Work was what he knew how to do.
He married my mom when she was 18, and just a day after he turned 19. The next day they moved to follow a potential job. This August they will celebrate their 70th year of marriage.
Dad didn’t fit the model of a 21st century father. To him, “Hands On” meant strict discipline. His #1 priority was supporting his family, even when it meant working two full-time jobs, and doing without himself. His parenting responsibilities were to set a good example, love our mother, be respected for his work, and to be a man of faith and character.
I knew my dad cared for me, but my mom was in charge of the family, and his primary role was that of a provider. Dad believed in the Christian bible, especially, Ephesians 6:4: "Fathers, do not provoke your children to anger, but bring them up in the discipline and instruction of the Lord." My dad was not my buddy, playmate or principal teacher, but I always knew that while he didn’t understand me, he loved me.
As a child of the 60’s I resented my dad’s hick ways and his strict rules. As soon as I could I grew my hair long and began making my own erratic way through life. When I began my own family I vowed to do better than my dad did. I was in my 30’s before I began to recognize the values my father had taught me through his example: Love your wife and your family; work hard; keep your word; and be a man that you would respect yourself.
In his late 80’s Dad still takes care of his neighbors and community. He’s delivered free bread to the needy, helped his poor neighbors repair their homes, built ramps for the disabled, helps neighbors mourn and bury their loved ones, and he still makes time to be an ear for the lonely and disheartened. His neighbors treat him as if he were the father of his community.
Now, I can only dream of living up to his example – I could never hope to exceed him in any way. I love you Dad!
Written by
Carlosbach
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That's Beautiful Brother, and we all go through a rebellious period, but as we mature we come to realize how Dad's were instilling morals/values by example.
there is a LOT of parallels in your life experience and mine buddy. Me born into an Appalachian family circumstances, living on the edge of the yet to be cleared primeval forest in S.E. Indiana in the late 40s, early 50s horribly broken family circumstances . Long hair and all in the 60s too yayahahahaya yayahahahaya. Hell no I wasn’t having any of that scuffling hardship living.
I now realize they didn’t have much but worked hard for what they did have .. and still had happiness that some , even with a lot of money, find elusive in modern times.
Great Father’s Day post bruddha ….thanks for sharing and evoking the memories.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts and your own experience K. I think the parallels and the overlap between our life experiences are a big part of why I am drawn to your post and replies.
My dad was born earlier in 1913 and had a difficult time growing up. His mom died of double pneumonia when he was about 10 and he and his 4 brothers and sister were split among relatives to be raised while his dad was a traveling salesman. He was the oldest and even tho split up he always took care of his siblings to the point of paying for each one's burial. He joined the Navy when 17 after getting his dad's signature. He was the kindest and most loving dad one could want. He also taught me and my brother & sister the value of hard work, education, family and faith, which I hope I have instilled in my children/grandkids as well. We didn't grow up focused on material things but dignity, respect, kindness and integrity...always treating others like you wanted to be treated. He died of PC about 15 years ago at age 94 and I only wish I knew then what I now know about PC from my husband's struggle because I might have been able to help him much more. He came from an age where illness/treatment weren't discussed, nor aches and pains, but I know now how he must have felt. PC us a terrible disease and I pray nightly for all who have it as well as those who take care of them!
Your dad sounds amazing. It is a shame that men like your dad and mine just toughed things out in silence. That's one of the things I love about this forum is having a safe place to share your worries and concerns, while receiving support and great info.
He's doing pretty good. His PSA became detectable again and scans showed positive lymph nodes. It is particularly concerning for us, especially because he has "ductal". The doctor says it is aggressive. The MO started him back on Eligard and Abiraraterone with Prednisone. Dwight has decided to get an orchiectomy to be able to at least avoid the Eligard. Hopefully, he can get a good long run with the Abiraraterone.
a very touching tribute. I immediately thought of august Wilson’s great play “Fences” about a poor strict but stand up father. Sounds a lot like yours.
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