Cherishing dear, old Dad

He won’t be getting the Medal of Honor and probably never met any heads of state.  His profound wisdom cannot be found in a book at the library.  And, though his love of literature was apparent in his younger days, now he can barely read at all, due to his macular degeneration.  But one of my favorite people in the world is my dad, Judge Joe Schmidt.

I enjoy the heck out of spending time with “dear, old Dad,” and don’t get to often enough, since he lives out of state.  One of my favorite things is to listen to him and my brother Charlie sing old songs from the 30’s and 40’s, as Charlie strums the guitar or banjo.  I especially love this song Dad sings about “an old apple tree in the orchard, that lives in my memory.”  He sings, “If my pappy would’a know’d it, he never would a grow’d it, ‘cause he died in the old apple tree.”  (It’s a ballad about a man who brought “Widow Norton” home at sunup and was subsequently hanged for ruining her virture.)

Anyway, it’s funny how little things stick in your mind from childhood.  Dad had special names for each of his five children.  I was Theresa Giggle Girl and there was Diane-ee Banan-ee, Charlie from Farley, Joe from Cocomo and Little Jimmy Jump-up.

Many Saturday mornings we’d wake up early and go fishing.  All five of us kids would stand on the bank with our poles.  Seemed like Dad spent the whole time untangling our lines, but we had a great time.  He never complained.

Dad’s silly sense of humor often made the mundane, memorable and sometimes embarrassing.  I remember having coffee with him once while I was in college and he said to the waitress, “We’re trying to decide if we should elope, what do you think?”  I’d cringe, “Daaaaddd.  Stop it!”  He loved to catch people off guard that way.  Another time, I think I was around 18 years old and he took me to the doctor.  We were in the waiting room and he saw some woman he went to high school with and introduced me as his wife.  “Daaaadddd!  Stop it!  You’re not funny!”  (Gee, my kids are constantly telling me I’m not funny.)

   Another time, when they still had blue laws prohibiting Sunday sales except for medicine and such, we were in a drug store.  He asked the stock boy, “Where are the leaf bags.”  The boy replied, “Over there, but I doubt she’ll sell them to you on Sunday.”  Dad proceeded to the check out and when the clerk refused to sell the bags on Sunday he said, “But I need them to build an oxygen tent for one of my children.”  She sold him the bags.

Another time, he bought me a hundred pieces of bubble gum to help me quit smoking.    When the clerk was nosy and asked what all the bubble gum was for, Dad told her he was going to use it to fix plumbing problems at our house.

When I was younger, one of the best treats in the summer was when Dad would come home early from work and take us to the public swimming pool.  As well, the whole family enjoyed going to “Velvet Freeze” to have ice cream cones.

His sense of humor wasn’t all I admired or enjoyed.  Without being especially preachy, mainly through example, he taught me to have faith in God and to work hard.  He taught me to be honest and truthful.  He helped cultivate my love of reading by taking me and my siblings to the public library every Saturday, when we were kids.  He’s always been generous with his time and treasure.

It’s hard for me to fathom that “Dear old Dad” will be eighty years old July 22.  The older he gets, the more I’m forced to realize that one day the clock will run out.

So, as Father’s Day 2007 nears, I have to ask you Dad.  “Have I told you lately?  I’m crazy about you!”

Pay attention youngsters.  The years are fleeting and so is the time we have with those we love the most.

Comments

[Dave Weinfurtner]

Thank you for your editorial on your dad.
It has been 18 years since my dad went home and I still miss him. Both he and Ma were too young to die (he was 69 and Ma was 59). Although my dad and I did not always get along, I still respected him.
Theresa, I think that is one thing that is lacking nowadays: respect for authority. If we disobeyed, we got it.
The one thing I will always remember about DAd was that we went to American Legion baseball games together (and especially after Ma died. We bonded then and I really found out that it could be fun to be with Dad. Dad always loved to talk about baseball and especially about the local Legion team. He talked about this great pitcher that they had or that great hitting outfielder. He even coached that team for 2 or 3 years.
Yes I have only good memories of my dad too.

[Greg]

Theresa, thanks for the post. I know that my own mom and dad are in their last years and so is my father-in-law. I love them all dearly but as with most people we forget to tell them that we care. It seems that our own lives are so 'booked' nowdays that we don't or won't make time for the things that really count. Thanks for reminding me to again say "I love you" before the time comes that I can't.

[James]

JCL

AMEN, SISTER!

Without a doubt, I'm blessed that my dad -- and mom -- are still with me, both in fine health -- Praise God! My dad worked hard delivering the mail for many years, through rain, some sleet and maybe even a little snow, but down here it was more like rain, heat, humidity, mosquitoes -- and mostly sweat!

He taught me the value of hard work, as well as the way of salvation. He didn't expect me to be a banner roll student, he just wanted me to try my best.

Theresa, I wish your dad, my dad, and all the dads who read this, a Happy Father's Day. God Bless you all.

[AJR]

Great article Theresa. It is true of most of us but we do not share it as we should.