Happy 111th Birthday

 

Happy Birthday, Daddy...

My father would turn 111 today. He was born on the Day Before the Fourth of July in 1915 in a sharecropper's cabin in Greene County, Tennessee. By the time he was 50, he owned or co-owned five hardware stores, a five and dime, and a tool rental shop. But more important to him than being a successful businessman was being a successful Christian: he was an Elder in Bethel Presbyterian Church and Superintendent of Sunday School. 

About 15 years ago I was at a summer barbecue in Colonial Heights when I spotted Alan Herr. Alan and I grew up together in Bethel Church. I started to tell Alan a story about his father who was my Sunday School teacher but Alan interrupted: "I'm not half the man he was." I stopped my story to agree. I wasn't half the man my father was. He was not a perfect man but he did a heckuva job of hiding his flaws from me. I've tried to do the same with my son. If I can't be the perfect dad, I can try. Especially around him. 

My father died at age 70. He knew he was dying but he never let on. I even took his doctor aside to ask him. "He knows," the doctor said. A month before he died, he finally let me know he knew. "Take care of your mother," he told me. 

When she got sick in 2002, I moved back to Kingsport to live with her and take care of her. If I wasn't the world's worst nurse, I was certainly top ten. But I was also top ten in dutiful sons. I had fulfilled my father's last request.