Fatherhood... He Taught More Than He Thought
I would imagine it is just as much a thrill to be a new father as it is to be a new mom! Maybe you would have the expectations of doing things differently then your father. You would promise yourself you would NOT do like him, although at various points in dealing with your own kids, words would fall out of your mouth saying the same ungodly phrases that you told yourself you would never say!
Looking back on any of our childhood moments with our dad or any of our parental figures, their intentions were no different than ours in regards to our kids. The same values we want for ours, healthy, happy and safe, held true for them too just sometimes their delivery at the time, never made sense! Maybe if kids from this generation stopped blaming their parents for how they turned out and started to understand where their parent's view came from most likely they could be proud for the incredible individual they have become! If they stopped replacing fault with blame and looked at accountability of self... They would not have to use it as an easy out...
My dad, born July 8, 1933 was born a very poor child in Springfield Il. He was born to parents that really didn't want him. His older brother, the love child from an affair was the golden child. Dad always felt slighted and never good enough. He never got along with his father and no matter what he did he could not win favor from his mother. Now that's a fine "How do ya do" Isn't it?
Dad often told stories about how poor they were, living with his grandma (Granny) raising chickens and canning what produce they could grow. His grandpa smoked a pipe and he would have to go downstairs to the rathskeller where the coal stove occupied (their source of heat) a dirt floor. On that dirt floor it became a landing place for them. They would listen to the "rad-io", as dad called it, the place where they would learn about Pearl Harbour, enemy fighter planes attacking Hawaii, where Amos and Andy, Jack Benny and The Shadow could invade their imaginations. Back then a much simpler time for us but yet harder challenges that they had to face to survive.
Dad also like to tell the story when it was Christmas time, his Uncle Ned had a small candy store where they made homemade confections. Each Christmas no matter how many in the class, dad and his brother got candy canes for each of their class mates. It made him feel proud and good about himself to be able to hand out these special treats.
Dad graduated from eighth grade in a suit from the Good Will, the arms of the jacket being to short for his gangly arms. He had been asked to sing by his music teacher a song to entertain the parents. Proud as a peacock there on stage with his used cheap suit, he sang "Mademoiselle". As dad told it, "applause abrupted wildly" and he got a standing ovation demanding a repeat performance.
Going onto Soldan highschool, now living in St. Louis still with his grandmother, mom and aunt, he learned to play the trumpet and like so many others fell into a group of kids that most likely by today's standards would be gang related. Petty thieves is what they had become. Stealing, drinking and making all kinds of ruckus were the norm that he had fell into. He spoke of a girl who had become pregnant at a very early age that he was madly in love with. His words would follow with, "it didn't matter that she was pregnant, there was just something about her that he loved". He did refer to her as his girlfriend. As time went on his big "friend' claim to fame became, "his buddy Hank Krumanacher's niece married Bob Costas".
Dad was drafted out of highschool and sent to Frankfurt Germany. There, he became a cook in the army and found a girlfriend who's parents owned a tavern. When he knew he had to feed the generals and higher ups he would have them order all the meat which was a totally different cut from the army rations given. Gaining favors with them, he was given extra Furlow. Somehow or another though he had gotten into with a Sargent and he did spend a weekend peeling potatoes. Him and his scaliwagging buddies spent time in Paris, Monte Carlos and the likes of Europe most of us only dream about..
Coming home was not such a welcome. All the money he had been sending home for his mother to save for his return, had been spent. Home, with nothing to show for his patriotism,but three years of a memory and a few such pictures, he scrounged to buy a paper route and there, low and behold how he met my mother!
On that glorious corner of Grand and Bates, it must have been some paper route cause he had hired guys to work for him and earned enough money to buy a fancy car. My mom was all about the flashy. He must have thought he hit the jack pot with her. The boy that came from nothing ended up with the Grand and Bates belle of the ball! LOL
My mother so different from him... good catholic girl, parents that adored her, good up bringing and a heritage that goes all the way back to Ellis Island. Not to mention this woman, MY MOTHER was drop dead gorgeous and a voice as smooth as velvet.
They married in 1958, I came along 1961, my sister then to follow in 1964 and after that, sadly to say, it was not happily ever after and for the life of me, I will never understand all the demons my dad had. Here, he had a beautiful family and somehow in all his inner turmoil, he turned into a raging alcoholic and he mistreated my mother until the day she died.
Looking back I try to refit all the pieces and I relisten to all the stories that are embedded in my brain but for some reason, my mother became a possession to him that he felt he needed to try and control it. All the things he desperately wanted he rightly lost.
A few days before getting married in 1983, dad and I were talking in the kitchen at our house on Bates. There, he once again proceeded to tell me about his childhood girlfriend and briefly he talked about mom (which he rarely did) and he said very adamantly, " A woman plans her life...down to every detail. A man goes through life until one day he wakes up and says this will no longer do..." " You can't tell a woman where to put her heart any better than you can tell a man what to do" She did love me...
If this is the only thing I remember in my life from my dad...it is by far the best advice that man EVER gave me!
Who am I to question the demons that chased him. I did not walk in his shoes. All I can tell you is...I was a daddy's girl! I loved that man. I felt the need to protect him and I took care of him until his last dying breath.
Dad died Sept 16, 1992 from a very short battle of liver cancer. He got sick in Jan of that year, was diagnosed in May, retired from ABF trucking in July and died September.
The few last months of his coherency he told every one who came to see him, "If it wasn't for Kit, I don't know what I would have ever done".
Pretty much after dad's death, I did fall apart and I did have a break down. It was probably a few short years after that I started putting my life back together.
He may have never thought his legacy would live on like this but I am hear to tell you fatherhood does play a significant role in all of our lives. I don't place blame or I do I find fault with that man...I am thankful for the lessons I learned with him and because of him. I am a better woman for having a father like him and there is not one day that doesn't go by that I don't think of him regardless of what I have had to tolerate in my life... If it was not for having learned that tolerance I would not be able to sit here to write and share this experience with you.
Meet Me In St. Louis,
Kitryn Marie
Looking back on any of our childhood moments with our dad or any of our parental figures, their intentions were no different than ours in regards to our kids. The same values we want for ours, healthy, happy and safe, held true for them too just sometimes their delivery at the time, never made sense! Maybe if kids from this generation stopped blaming their parents for how they turned out and started to understand where their parent's view came from most likely they could be proud for the incredible individual they have become! If they stopped replacing fault with blame and looked at accountability of self... They would not have to use it as an easy out...
My dad, born July 8, 1933 was born a very poor child in Springfield Il. He was born to parents that really didn't want him. His older brother, the love child from an affair was the golden child. Dad always felt slighted and never good enough. He never got along with his father and no matter what he did he could not win favor from his mother. Now that's a fine "How do ya do" Isn't it?
Dad often told stories about how poor they were, living with his grandma (Granny) raising chickens and canning what produce they could grow. His grandpa smoked a pipe and he would have to go downstairs to the rathskeller where the coal stove occupied (their source of heat) a dirt floor. On that dirt floor it became a landing place for them. They would listen to the "rad-io", as dad called it, the place where they would learn about Pearl Harbour, enemy fighter planes attacking Hawaii, where Amos and Andy, Jack Benny and The Shadow could invade their imaginations. Back then a much simpler time for us but yet harder challenges that they had to face to survive.
Dad also like to tell the story when it was Christmas time, his Uncle Ned had a small candy store where they made homemade confections. Each Christmas no matter how many in the class, dad and his brother got candy canes for each of their class mates. It made him feel proud and good about himself to be able to hand out these special treats.
Dad graduated from eighth grade in a suit from the Good Will, the arms of the jacket being to short for his gangly arms. He had been asked to sing by his music teacher a song to entertain the parents. Proud as a peacock there on stage with his used cheap suit, he sang "Mademoiselle". As dad told it, "applause abrupted wildly" and he got a standing ovation demanding a repeat performance.
Going onto Soldan highschool, now living in St. Louis still with his grandmother, mom and aunt, he learned to play the trumpet and like so many others fell into a group of kids that most likely by today's standards would be gang related. Petty thieves is what they had become. Stealing, drinking and making all kinds of ruckus were the norm that he had fell into. He spoke of a girl who had become pregnant at a very early age that he was madly in love with. His words would follow with, "it didn't matter that she was pregnant, there was just something about her that he loved". He did refer to her as his girlfriend. As time went on his big "friend' claim to fame became, "his buddy Hank Krumanacher's niece married Bob Costas".
Dad was drafted out of highschool and sent to Frankfurt Germany. There, he became a cook in the army and found a girlfriend who's parents owned a tavern. When he knew he had to feed the generals and higher ups he would have them order all the meat which was a totally different cut from the army rations given. Gaining favors with them, he was given extra Furlow. Somehow or another though he had gotten into with a Sargent and he did spend a weekend peeling potatoes. Him and his scaliwagging buddies spent time in Paris, Monte Carlos and the likes of Europe most of us only dream about..
Coming home was not such a welcome. All the money he had been sending home for his mother to save for his return, had been spent. Home, with nothing to show for his patriotism,but three years of a memory and a few such pictures, he scrounged to buy a paper route and there, low and behold how he met my mother!
On that glorious corner of Grand and Bates, it must have been some paper route cause he had hired guys to work for him and earned enough money to buy a fancy car. My mom was all about the flashy. He must have thought he hit the jack pot with her. The boy that came from nothing ended up with the Grand and Bates belle of the ball! LOL
My mother so different from him... good catholic girl, parents that adored her, good up bringing and a heritage that goes all the way back to Ellis Island. Not to mention this woman, MY MOTHER was drop dead gorgeous and a voice as smooth as velvet.
They married in 1958, I came along 1961, my sister then to follow in 1964 and after that, sadly to say, it was not happily ever after and for the life of me, I will never understand all the demons my dad had. Here, he had a beautiful family and somehow in all his inner turmoil, he turned into a raging alcoholic and he mistreated my mother until the day she died.
Looking back I try to refit all the pieces and I relisten to all the stories that are embedded in my brain but for some reason, my mother became a possession to him that he felt he needed to try and control it. All the things he desperately wanted he rightly lost.
A few days before getting married in 1983, dad and I were talking in the kitchen at our house on Bates. There, he once again proceeded to tell me about his childhood girlfriend and briefly he talked about mom (which he rarely did) and he said very adamantly, " A woman plans her life...down to every detail. A man goes through life until one day he wakes up and says this will no longer do..." " You can't tell a woman where to put her heart any better than you can tell a man what to do" She did love me...
If this is the only thing I remember in my life from my dad...it is by far the best advice that man EVER gave me!
Who am I to question the demons that chased him. I did not walk in his shoes. All I can tell you is...I was a daddy's girl! I loved that man. I felt the need to protect him and I took care of him until his last dying breath.
Dad died Sept 16, 1992 from a very short battle of liver cancer. He got sick in Jan of that year, was diagnosed in May, retired from ABF trucking in July and died September.
The few last months of his coherency he told every one who came to see him, "If it wasn't for Kit, I don't know what I would have ever done".
Pretty much after dad's death, I did fall apart and I did have a break down. It was probably a few short years after that I started putting my life back together.
He may have never thought his legacy would live on like this but I am hear to tell you fatherhood does play a significant role in all of our lives. I don't place blame or I do I find fault with that man...I am thankful for the lessons I learned with him and because of him. I am a better woman for having a father like him and there is not one day that doesn't go by that I don't think of him regardless of what I have had to tolerate in my life... If it was not for having learned that tolerance I would not be able to sit here to write and share this experience with you.
Meet Me In St. Louis,
Kitryn Marie
