Jimmy and Willie........Two

Today is a day of being thankful.
Thankful for family and friends.
Thankful that Katie is alive and well.
Thankful that the truth came out about
the event of last night.

Also a day of remembrance.
A remembrance of those we love,
past, present and future.

Jimmy and Willie....Two

After many years of every kind of abuse,
my Mom left my dad. She rented a mobile
home. We worked there fixing the place up.
I was in high school, worked and had a car.
My brother and sister had already moved out.
She left for work one morning and I decided not
to attend school that day. I needed a day for me.
I didn't go anywhere or do anything. I stayed there
alone and depressed at our loss. A loss that had
occurred many years prior. A loss of a dad that I
never really knew.
A dad that the world, his friends and everyone but us
thought was a loving, kind, gentle soul. He would
give anyone the shirt off his back if needed.
Anyone but the ones he was supposed to love the most.

After a week of being there while I was at church
one Wednesday night, he showed up. Begging for us to
come home. I will change, I will be a better dad,
better husband. I was 15 confused, terrified and gave in.
I talked my Mom into going back.

Life was better for a short time. Had I only known
all the facts. My Mom hid most of the facts very well.
One night Mom, my sister and I were going out to eat
in a nearby town. On the way we saw my dads car on
the side of the road....state patrol there as well.
Well, nothing good could come out of this.
In the back seat was my dad and a woman. Both drunk,
her kissing all over him.
Mom and my sister refused to go to the car.
The officer said that if we would drive him
home he would not press charges. I agreed.
Now as an adult I wish I had not.

I drove the woman home and then took my
drunk father home. I dumped him off on our
front porch and told him to make his own
way into the house. We then left him there
and continued to dinner.

I believe this is the point when I realized
what this man was and had been doing all
these years. I never helped him get out of the
car drunk again and into the house. If he could
not get in the house he sat outside until sober
enough to do so on his own.

One night he slapped my Mom while I was at home.
She did not say a word. As I got out of my chair
I heard the second slap. I yelled at him to stop
as I made my way into my bedroom and got my softball
bat. I held it high as if to hit a ball and told
him if he hit her again now or ever that I would kill
him. This made him more angry. He got one of his guns
and threatened us. I grabbed Mom and out the door to
a neighbors house...a friend of his.
He went over and calmed him down, took the gun and
all others out of the house.

We did go back later that night. He left to go finish
getting more drunk. Days later he returned and spoke
not a word.

Not long after all the family was home. Parents,
3 kids and my Mom's Mom. Dad decided we all needed
to eat out together. My brother did not want to go.
Dad said you should go son, this will be the last time we
are all together. This turned out to be true.
In January 1979 he died in a car wreck. 4 tenths of
a mile from home. At 2am a knock on the door, my first
words....Well, where is he this time?
Janet, your dad has been killed in a car wreck
just up the road. We wanted to go, tried to go.
No one would let us.

A sadness, a relief. Loss of a dad but, not a
father. Very few times was he actually a
father.

I don't think my Mom knew what to feel or
how to react. She was shocked.

He was driving 90 miles an hour when he wrecked.
This is something he never did. 45 was his top speed.
One car, left the road hit a tiling in front of
his aunts house. The car went 150 feet in one direction
and his body went 150 feet opposite. Very little
blood, hardly any at all. Very odd.
This was a total surprise...he had not been drinking.
No alcohol in his blood.

Ruled an accident by the coroner.

Two weeks later we found out he had told my
aunt her was having chest pain. Now this
explained the lack of blood loss. They
believe he had a massive heart attack. I agree
and think he was trying to get home.
It also explained the desire to eat out with the
entire family. And, his statement this will be the last
time we are all together. 47 years old....death
at his own hands....too damn stubborn to seek
help.

I know this may sound bad but, there was
and is love in my heart for my dad.
There were good times in our family.
Times when at home and sober. We occasionally
saw the kind, gentle man.
He taught me how to fish and hunt.
How to drive and care for a car. He
just never taught me how to care
for another human. Never taught me how
to love, to be a friend, or to be his daughter.

I told him once when he said I would never
amount to anything. One day I will show you,
I will prove you wrong. I hate he did not live long
enough to see. I am sure he knows...I was right.