Some Things You Never Forget

Dear Daddy,

It dawned on me yesterday driving down the road that when you were the age I am now, I was playing high school basketball.

You really wanted me to be good at basketball because you paid one of the guys at the store that summer to go with me to the gym after work to throw basketballs back to me every afternoon as I shot until I got blisters on my hand.

You always insisted I could do anything I set my mind to do. Even if it was to play basketball with other guys who were much stronger and much more athletic than me. But you always made sure I knew I could only achieve what I set my mind to achieve if I wanted in bad enough to work hard enough to get it.

It dawned on me many years ago that the lesson you were teaching me as I went to the gym day after day really was much more about life than it was about basketball.

I think you know this by now but just in case you don’t - I really did get it. I learned that lesson.

I also remember watching you deal with people. I know you had a degree in Psychology at your beloved Emory and you were always proud of that. Maybe you learned your people skills from there. I kinda doubt it but I guess that could be true. But I watched you build enduring relationships with an awful lot of folks. You were never afraid to look someone in the eye and you were never afraid to give someone a hug or a kiss on the cheek when they needed it or maybe you needed it. You always lived on the edge. And it was not difficult for you to tell others that you loved them.

And it was also easy for you to say I’m sorry.

I also remember the loyalty and strong friendships you were determined to continue with your friends from your childhood. When your old friend Ches Marshall came to town you always hugged him. When one of your childhood classmates died after you retired you cut short your vacation and drove 300 miles to get back to the graveside funeral. It did not matter that you had not seen your friend in 30 years. The fact was he was your friend. You organized an annual gathering of your fraternity brothers just so you could stay in touch with those people of whom you thought so much. And I remember the close relationships you had with your lifelong neighbors. Julian Whatley knew as much about your business as any of your family. And Ed Whatley next door was not only your friend and doctor but he was your confidant. I have a feeling when you died a piece of them died with you. You were that close.

The point is you taught me the value of true friendships. I just want you to know I got that one too. I really did learn that lesson. I don’t come close to doing it the way you did it but I understand the truth really well.

And I work at keeping those old relationships in my own life alive because I saw you do it. I have also been fortunate enough to develop a few new ones along the way.

You also spent a lot of time carrying on foolishness. You were always playing a joke on someone or being good natured about the joke someone was playing on you. Though you were a giant of a man and could be very intimidating, you made others at ease around you. You loved to laugh and you loved to make others laugh. How could I ever forget the time you had a medical procedure scheduled and you had orders to give yourself an enema the night before? Everybody in the neighborhood showed up for an “Enema Party” with things like Crisco oil and water hoses to help you out. Or the time you were taking up the offering at church and walked with the other three guys up the aisle in front of God and everybody with your offering plate turned upside downwards. Although I think you put the money you collected in another usher’s plate, you made it look like that you had collected nothing. I remember you added a lot that day to what I remember as a pretty boring Sunday church service.

I know I cut up way too much. But I got it from you. And I really never spent much time apologizing for seeing the lighter side.

I also remember what you taught me in the business world about integrity and doing the right thing. I always wondered what you could have accomplished in the funeral business if you were in a bigger city. You were absolutely the best at what you did. I also remember that the joking stopped at the door of the funeral home. It was all business there and I saw up close and personal the compassion you had for people at the absolute worse times in their lives. You were amazing to watch and I learned more than you ever thought I was learning.

You were at your best when those entrusted to you were at their worst.

I look back on my life when you were here and I really don’t have many regrets. I said and did some stupid things along the way as most kids do. You understood I was growing and you gave me room to grow.

But you also gave me wings to fly.

By the way, if you were still here you would be celebrating your 89th birthday today. At 89 you could probably still beat me in golf.

I guess I just wanted you to know I haven’t forgotten.

Some things you never forget.