Memories of our Fathers

[dseag2]

I invite you all to share memories of your fathers, whether good or bad. I'll go first, and sorry for the lengthy post.

I have tremendous admiration for my father. He grew up with two younger brothers in a boarding house in a small town in NC. He went to college at 15 y/o, while he looked after his younger brothers. The brothers were alcoholics who passed away in their 40s and 50s, but my dad always persevered.

He was a salesman for Borden Dairy, traveling in the Southeast and frequently taking my mother and myself with him when he attended conventions. This gave me the opportunity to experience traveling at an early age.

He later become a financial advisor and he spent many years reaching out to potential investors. I still remember him sitting on the floor of our family room personally writing letters. His stamina was amazing. We were on a tight budget and frequently ate sandwiches until he built a client base.

He became successful as a financial advisor. He was all about work. Even after he retired he followed the stock market like a fiend.

When I came out as gay in the late 70's, my father suggested we have lunch at his office and discuss it (always the businessman). He told me that the path I had taken was a difficult one but he would support me in whatever my decision was. My mother later told me after my father passed away that he too was gay, which makes sense in many ways that I will not explain.

As my father got older, I used to accompany him on errands every Saturday. He was so charming and beloved in his local community. So many people at the bank, grocery store, pharmacy, etc. new and loved him. It was inspirational.

He passed away unexpectedly in 2000, but I still remember what a great person he was and how much I learned from him. My father had such a tremendous impact on my life. I still miss him.

 

[Ruthanne]

I enjoyed what you wrote. Sounds like your father was a good man.

My father was a quiet man much of the time. A good thing is that he was always there and not running the streets or bars. He made sure the bills were paid, there was food on the table.

He taught me how to swim. Took me to a wonderful pool, it was gigantic with a 50 foot slide. Took us to the best amusement parks. Made sure we got things for Christmas.

My relationship with him was strained for some time but I'm not getting into that. He's gone now and I prefer to think of all the good today. He loved my mother like no other.

Our family had 6 children and that's no easy thing.

 

[Murrmurr]

Dad grew up on a dairy and vegetable farm that his parents bought when he was real little. He started working alongside his dad when he was 7 and learned to drive and operate the trucks and tractors by the time he was 9. He was the oldest of 11 kids and taught his 3 youngest brothers all the farm chores. He served in the navy during WWll and came home from with a Jewish-Italian bride, my mom. His parents were Catholic, but they welcomed her into their home.

Dad was exceptionally strong clear up to his late 70s. He loved baseball and boxing, and he taught me and my brothers how to play and how to fight, how to farm, how to build things like storage sheds, fences, and irrigation systems, and how to fix all sorts of engines.

But what impressed me most about my dad is how much he loved my mom. It was really obvious.

 

[Capt Lightning]

I always thought that if you looked up the word "unambitious" in a dictionary,my father's name would be among the definitions. Like my mother, he was a strict Presbyterian. He believed that things were as they were and shouldn't be questioned, though he could never explain why. This was the worst thing about my patents - they did things blindly and that was that. If I questioned them he would hit me rather than try to explain.
One respect in which he differed from mother was that while she would happily believe a lie that she liked rather than a truth that she didn't, he had a healthy distrust of certain people and things.

As a result I grew up with little respect and in some fear of my father. On the plus side, he was an expert at his work as a plaster and glazier. I wish I had got him to teach me his skills. It was an 'unproductive' relationship with my parents and I lived in a sort of 'truce' with them. It was only after my father died that I perceived that while mother loved my father deeply, she felt that life had not dealt the the best hand.