This Sunday is Father’s Day. I think fathers tend to not get near as much hoopla on their day compared to Mother’s Day. I understand the dynamics of family enough to see why. This may sound corny, but I think it is easier to buy for moms than dads. That way of thinking really isn’t fair. I think we see our dads as not really wanting the kind of presents we give to our mothers.
Every year I have no problems coming up with ideas for Mother’s Day. But when June rolls around, I seem to have a brain freeze while trying to think of a nice gift for dad on Father’s Day. By dad I mean my father-in-law.
My dad died August 19, 1997. I was only 34 years old and his death was a shock. There were no illness or health problems that showed or those we had any knowledge of. In fact I had lunch with him the day before he passed away. It was a really nice lunch too. It wasn’t a fancy restaurant. It was my dad’s favorite Bar-B-Q place. Gibson’s in Huntsville Alabama is famous BBQ. Big Bob Gibson was the original owner and oh my, he knew his BBQ. It was the time of year when my kids had already started soccer and school had just begun that week. My daughter was 11 and my son 8.
We both stuffed ourselves with pulled pork sandwiches, baked beans and chocolate pie. My dad at the time was a detective and had been on the police force for 24 years. He talked to me about retiring the next year when he hit the 25-year anniversary. I had just turned 9 years old when my father came home, and out of the blue told my mother he wanted to be a police officer. At the time he worked for an insurance company. My mother was not very excited or happy to hear this new revelation.
He joined the police academy and the more he learned the more he loved it. My memories of my dad’s career are in two parts. The first part I refer to as when he was in uniform. That pretty well explains that he was a beat cop in uniform. He started out on third shift and soon went to second. He seemed to really like second shift.
It was a big adjustment for us, but after awhile and being so young, he was my dad and the “notoriety” of my dad being a cop wore off. He was just my dad.
After 12 years of service he was promoted to detective. This he loved even more. He was just naturally a good detective. He was well known for his sense of style. He loved nice suits, ties and shirts. They called him “the mannequin”. He always looked sharp and every hair was in place.
When I turned about 13 his being a police officer was not a good thing in my eyes. He was too strict, too suspicious and could third degree me without me even realizing it until it was over. He had an excellent ability to detect a lie. There are not many things I did as a teenager that I actually got away with. The tension kicked in when I turned 16, just like it does for most teenagers. I can think back and see just how exasperated he was in trying to deal with me. I was an only child; so all attention was focused on me with no one to help give me some slack. I know now how he felt.
I have memories of him sitting at the kitchen table meticulously cleaning his department issued gun. When he was still in uniform he would lay the shirt out and begin to place the badge, collar pins and everything else, which had to be just right. Back then they wore shoes that could really shine. The belt he wore with all accessories was a heavy load.
There were times I would ask him specific questions about people and situations he had dealt with over the years, but I didn’t really start to want to know more information until I was older, married and a mother. His career then turned fascinating to me.
After he and I finished our lunch, he left me and went to see my grandmother, his mother. He sat and had a cup of coffee with her and a piece of coconut cake, which was his all time favorite. He gave me his sweet-tooth. Thanks Dad!
That night when he went to sleep he never woke up. He died of a heart attack at the age of 54. Unless you have been through that kind of shocking news it is hard to understand. By the time all was said and done and tears were beginning to ease up some, exhaustion hit me and it took me a couple of months to start to feel like myself a little. My first Christmas without him was ok. It was my next birthday that I fell apart. I don’t know why, but him not being there for that birthday really got me.
My dad was given full honors. Two policemen stood at his casket during visitation. After leaving the funeral home while my family and I were following the hearse, we saw city police officers, county sheriffs, state troopers and deputies hold traffic at intersections and they all saluted my dad as he came by. To this day that scene is one I will never forget and one that will always bring tears.
The police department gave me his uniform badge that is silver and his detective badge that is gold. I can’t begin to tell you how much that badge means to me.
It has been 14 years this August. Time does heal. But I have my moments. I will find old pictures, certain movies or certain things that only he would have found funny as I do and I feel heavy for a while. As my kids have grown, graduated from college, and one is married and a parent herself, it is at special events I get “heavy”. I think of how he would be so proud of his grandchildren. He would love that my son is just as picky about his clothes and hair, or that my daughter has our sense of humor and feistiness. That my kids love SEC football as much as he did that would have made for some fun seasons.
I look back on that last lunch and his last visit with his mother and I have absolutely no doubt God gave us that day for a reason. I will always cherish it.
Over the years I have had many dreams about him. Some were comforting and some would haunt me the next day and I would be blue. I wish I could talk to him about life and the age I am now. I hope so much in my heart that he would be proud of me too.
To all the dads, step-dads, guardians, and grandfathers, Happy Father’s Day. I hope you have a great weekend! Thanks for letting me share; it felt really nice to do some reminiscing and a little bragging.
Take care, and stay safe,
KJ
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