Our Father Who Art In Heaven
Dad died 19 years ago last Tuesday. I remembered it a couple days later. It was the second year in a row that I had forgotten. Time has a way of doing that. I try not to enhance my memories of my father. He was not perfect. These are a few of the things I treasured the most about him.
I remember him every year on Election Day. He always voted and was proud that NH voted first in the Presidential Primary. On Election night, you would find him sitting at the kitchen table with the radio on, tallying the votes on a yellow pad of paper. Sometimes he stayed up all night. His favorite president was Harry Truman.
Sunday afternoons were some of my favorite times with him. Mom would be at Play rehearsal with the Pittsfield Players Theatre Group and we would be with Dad. We would watch Curt Gowdy's Wild Kingdom. Later we would take our baths and have sandwiches, milk and popcorn for dinner. Then if we were lucky we would get to watch The Wonderful World of Disney.
I can still see him during baseball season listening to the games on the radio while he read the paper, worked on his coins, or read his treasured Zane Grey books. He loved the Red Sox. He would have been so happy to see the Red Sox come back to win the series against the Yankees in October of 2004. I cried when two weeks later they beat St Louis to win the World Series. I cried because he didn't live to see it. That World Series win was for his generation. The next World Series win was for mine.
I thought of him when the face of The Old Man On The Mountain fell. He lived his whole life in NH and believed in "Live Free or Die". A New Hampshire man through and through,he lived a simple life and believed in God and his country. He was a proud Veteran of World War II where he served in India as part of the Air Force. He was on the School Board for many years, even though he never graduated from high school himself. He dropped out to help support his family, of which he was one of seven. Daddy was part of the "Greatest Generation" and he believed in hard work, civic duty and earning your place in the world.
I remember him on Christmas Eve coming home from the store with his work clothes still on and hanging a Christmas bulb from his pocket. He had to be festive before coming to the dinner table. It was tradition. He wasn't always the most joyful during the holidays, but with nudging he would play along. He didn't care whether it was a fake tree or fresh cut, but my Mother did. He loved getting a LL Bean Chamois Shirt every year. At Nana's he would play cards with my Grandfather and Uncles and then later we would all play Hearts together. I can still hear him say "Jesus H Christ!" when things didn't go his way.
There are so many more memories I will never forget. His red truck, cutting wood for the fireplace, the big wood stove in the kitchen, planting his garden on Memorial day, the beach, holding Sam as a baby, his rose garden, his loyalty to his family, and his great love for Martha and I, will always be with me. Daddy called me Sam and Martha, Fred.
Sam reminds me the most of my father. Sam has Dad's inherent sense of right and wrong, integrity and kindness. He also shares my father's love of politics, history and baseball and physically he has Dad's eyes, red hair in his beard and build. Sam was 1 1/2 when Daddy died. My Dad never knew Ben. When Ben was little and crazy, my Dad would have called him a "pistol". I can hear him say it. Now he would have marveled over his running and soccer skills. He would have bragged about it and referred to him as "a hellava player". I wish he could have met them. He would have loved the men I'm raising. That is the saddest part of him no longer with us. He would have loved having grandsons.
November 16 has come and gone. He died at age 69, but he was an old man long before that. Cigarette smoking robbed him of health and skin cancer eventually killed him.
Vernon Davis Lawton, July 18, 1922-November 16, 1991.
I remember him every year on Election Day. He always voted and was proud that NH voted first in the Presidential Primary. On Election night, you would find him sitting at the kitchen table with the radio on, tallying the votes on a yellow pad of paper. Sometimes he stayed up all night. His favorite president was Harry Truman.
Sunday afternoons were some of my favorite times with him. Mom would be at Play rehearsal with the Pittsfield Players Theatre Group and we would be with Dad. We would watch Curt Gowdy's Wild Kingdom. Later we would take our baths and have sandwiches, milk and popcorn for dinner. Then if we were lucky we would get to watch The Wonderful World of Disney.
I can still see him during baseball season listening to the games on the radio while he read the paper, worked on his coins, or read his treasured Zane Grey books. He loved the Red Sox. He would have been so happy to see the Red Sox come back to win the series against the Yankees in October of 2004. I cried when two weeks later they beat St Louis to win the World Series. I cried because he didn't live to see it. That World Series win was for his generation. The next World Series win was for mine.
I thought of him when the face of The Old Man On The Mountain fell. He lived his whole life in NH and believed in "Live Free or Die". A New Hampshire man through and through,he lived a simple life and believed in God and his country. He was a proud Veteran of World War II where he served in India as part of the Air Force. He was on the School Board for many years, even though he never graduated from high school himself. He dropped out to help support his family, of which he was one of seven. Daddy was part of the "Greatest Generation" and he believed in hard work, civic duty and earning your place in the world.
I remember him on Christmas Eve coming home from the store with his work clothes still on and hanging a Christmas bulb from his pocket. He had to be festive before coming to the dinner table. It was tradition. He wasn't always the most joyful during the holidays, but with nudging he would play along. He didn't care whether it was a fake tree or fresh cut, but my Mother did. He loved getting a LL Bean Chamois Shirt every year. At Nana's he would play cards with my Grandfather and Uncles and then later we would all play Hearts together. I can still hear him say "Jesus H Christ!" when things didn't go his way.
There are so many more memories I will never forget. His red truck, cutting wood for the fireplace, the big wood stove in the kitchen, planting his garden on Memorial day, the beach, holding Sam as a baby, his rose garden, his loyalty to his family, and his great love for Martha and I, will always be with me. Daddy called me Sam and Martha, Fred.
Sam reminds me the most of my father. Sam has Dad's inherent sense of right and wrong, integrity and kindness. He also shares my father's love of politics, history and baseball and physically he has Dad's eyes, red hair in his beard and build. Sam was 1 1/2 when Daddy died. My Dad never knew Ben. When Ben was little and crazy, my Dad would have called him a "pistol". I can hear him say it. Now he would have marveled over his running and soccer skills. He would have bragged about it and referred to him as "a hellava player". I wish he could have met them. He would have loved the men I'm raising. That is the saddest part of him no longer with us. He would have loved having grandsons.
November 16 has come and gone. He died at age 69, but he was an old man long before that. Cigarette smoking robbed him of health and skin cancer eventually killed him.
Vernon Davis Lawton, July 18, 1922-November 16, 1991.
Comments
Post a Comment