Remembering Dad

Today I am remembering a very special man. My father, Eldon, would have been 77 today. He died of cancer in August of 2005. I have so many wonderful memories of this man who loved his family deeply. We were his main focus in life. His second love was fishing.

I can remember his patience with us when as young children he would take us out in the boat. Cane poles were the choice of the day. He taught us how to bait our own hook. If we wanted to catch fish, we needed to get used to the feel of the slimy worms and place them on the hook ourselves. He always brought a candy bar for each of us. I can remember the strangeness of eating a candy bar with worm germs on my hands. I was a true fisher-girl to do that! I remember the peacefulness of the lake as we sat and watched our bobbers, waiting for a nibble. In later years he taught me to clean my own fish, not my favorite job but a necessity. His motto was "you catch them, you clean them."

I can remember as a child him offering me the choice of a penny, a nickel, and a dime. I wanted that nickel so bad! I was sure it was more valuable because of its size. I would not believe that that teeny little dime was the biggest prize! He was very amused. He had a silly game he would play with young children. "Do you want that ear any longer?," he would ask. There was no correct answer. "Yes," would bring the reply "then let me stretch it" and a "no" answer would bring, "then let me take it." Either way the ear got a gentle tug and a twinkle from his eye.

He loved poetry and would recite silly poems for us. My favorites were "The Spider and the Fly" and the "Goblins Will Get You (IF You Don't Watch Out)." He recited them with great animation making us squeal with delight. He was also very fond of the "Willie" poems. He had a great sense of humor.

He also loved music. Dean Martin, Tennessee Ernie Ford, Frank Sinatra, and many others. One of my favorites was Roger Miller. Through his silly music I learned "you can't roller skate in a buffalo herd, but you can be happy if you've a mind to." One of the songs I remember the most was "Dang Me." Sung with a peppy country twang was "Dang me. Dang me. They outta take a rope and hang me. High from the highest tree .... long note .... country twang finished with a high note ... "woman would you weep for me bup bup bup do dodled doo doo down." Kind of morbid when you see it written but it was fun to sing!

Some of my favorite memories are Sunday drives usually involving a stop for ice cream; playing cards and the twinkle he got as he laid down a good card; watching him stroll with mom, hand in hand, around their large garden looking for asparagus; and him waxing his car and listening to the NASCAR race on Father's Day. He always planted his strawberries during fair week. It made sense to him because it always rains fair week! He was seldom wrong.

There is a family story that often gets mentioned at family gatherings. It involves me, a pop bottle, a fence, and a field. As an inexperienced driver I reached down to straighten a bottle of pop that had fallen over. I took my eyes off the road and found myself in a field not far from my house. The problem is that I had hit a wire fence in a way that the car somehow caught the bottom, slid under it, and didn't break the fence. I drove around trying to find my way out. I finally walked home. Dad worked nights and so he was sound asleep. "Dad, I went off the road. The car's OK but it's in a field and I can't get it out!" He jumped out of bed and into his pants faster than a fireman ever could. Later I would find out that my driving around the field over stumps ripped up the undercarriage of the car and the fence scratched the paint on the roof.. He loved his cars and must have been upset with me although he never showed it. That was the type of man he was. He did like to tease me about it. Maybe that was my penance.

He was a man of wisdom. Two of his favorite Eldonisms were "if you aren't going to use your head you might as well have a fanny on both ends" and when we were standing in his line of sight he would tell us "you make a better door than you do a window." Both expressions make me smile to this day.

I could go on for hours writing about my dad. He was one loving, fun, hard working man. I miss him.