Remembering My Dad

Dad,

You were 47 years old when the nurse came out of delivery a little after 5:00 a.m. on March 8, 1956 and upon waking you she said, ‘Mr. Thomas you have a healthy 7lb 1oz baby girl born at 4:55, congratulations." I'm not sure what happened after that I can only imagine but at 47 years old you were considered a bit old at that time to be a father. People always thought you were my grandfather and as I got older I can remember how much it royally pissed me off. You used to laugh it off. It's as if you had two lives, one where you were the perennial bachelor in Parkville and everyone knew you would never marry. Until my mother came along that is...and then I did.

I can remember being very small with long blonde curly hair and blue eyes asking you if I could ride with you in the old truck to go ‘downtown' which meant the town of Parkville. I always felt so special when you said yes and we'd climb into the old 1930's Ford truck. The one with the squeaky doors, the cantankerous windows, the protesting clutch and the musty smell of dry rot as we bounced merrily from home to Parkville to visit Vawters drugstore where we'd get a cold soda at the big marble counter with the huge mirror behind it.
Later you'd teach me how to ride a bike, I remember the fear as I said, ‘Daddy promise you won't let go' when we took the training wheels off. We did that over and over again until I yelled, ‘Go ahead and let go now Daddy' and I was shaky but soon I was riding straight and strong. That was the beginning of a favorite pasttime of mine. Riding the backroads and sometimes letting go of the handle bars putting out my arms, closing my eyes and pretending I was flying. You'd of died on the spot had you known I did that. I loved it so much you found me sleep walking taking my bike out of the garage to go riding. Wow, what a scary thought for a parent!

I remember watching you go through your ritual of shaving every morning as I stood in the doorway of the bathroom running my mouth, which was alwayws running, and watcing you shave with your electric razor..It seemed to be something that was soothing to you as you closed your eyes and used your hands to guide the razor over all the spots that still had whiskers. You seemed transported to some other world. It was hypnotic to just watch you and eventually I did shut my mouth and just watch.

I'm sure mom got tired of hearing me ask, ‘Mom where's dad?' and since your business was at the house it wasn't an illogical question. You were always coming and going. So were lots of people. Our house was never quiet without someone dropping by. Maybe that's why to this day I do not like ‘drop ins' at my home. Then it was just a fact of life.

When I turned 16 you taught me to drive in the HS football field. Being too short to see over the steering wheel I can remember sitting on two telephone books to see over the dash. ‘Now when I say stop, I expect you to do it, ok? We'll start in circles until you get the feel of the car.' I was nervous as I started out driving and when you said, ‘Now stop!' I made the mistake of slamming on the brakes. Fortunately you only spilt your coffee and we weren't in your work car with all those little drawers of fittings in the back just ready to go flying out. Yea I had heard the stories of you teaching mom how to drive and I sure didn't want that to happen to me. You spilt your coffee on your pants and we called it a night. But eventually we moved to gravel roads and then to the highway. Then it didn't stop there you taught me how to look under the hood during car trouble and try to trouble shoot what might be wrong. I also had to learn to change a tire if needed. All of which did come in handy in the years to come. Then driving my car became a favorite pasttime replacing my bike. You gave me a gas card and I was set. Fortunately gas was cheap back then because I drove a lot....and many times during the cold, cold winters you'd come to the high school to rescue me when I couldn't get the car going on my own.

I was scared when I brought the boy I would later marry, home to meet you but you were gracious and welcoming. I thought you might run him off but you didn't. In fact he became one of the family right away and was there more than he was at his own home.

And when HS graduation finally came around and I walked into the gym you spotted me and told that boy, ‘Look at her, isn't she an aristocatic creature? The way she walks and talks, she's amazing.' I only learned of that comment later...I never knew you thought that about me.

And when it came time to marry that boy I walked up to you and took your arm, ready to walk down the aisle and you said, ‘My God honey you look so beautiful!' And I remember telling you, ‘Just shut up dad or I'll cry, which will make my eyelashes fall off.' You know I still feel guilty about that? But finally the song that was our cue came and you walked me down the aisle holdingmy hand tight. When we reached the altar and the preacher asked, ‘Who gives this woman your voice broke when you answered." Then you very reluctantly placed my hand in his.

Next came your grand kids. And oh the stories of what went on in the waiting room between relatives and friends for that first child of ours! We had it packed that night. I remember being afraid to tell you I was pregnant and as I sat there in fear you came over to hug me and congratulate me. It never got any easier to tell you with the next two either...and I have to smile at that. The greatest compliment you ever gave me was to tell me I was an excellent mother. Coming from you that was a Big Deal.

The years went by and when we made our move to leave Parkville and move 100 miles away you came to be there. There were tears in your eyes as you said, ‘This is your big move honey, the beginning of a new life.' I didn't want to leave but knew I had to.

The years went by and the kids grew up, but because you were already middle aged when I was born you grew old long before anyone else's parents my age did. You became sick and I moved down to live with you the summer of ‘95 while you were on Hospice. We had many soul searching conversations, you and I. But being the man who was alway wanting to ‘take care of me' you fought death. I remember telling you, ‘It's okay to leave dad. I'll be fine. You taught me well.' You looked at me and asked me, ‘Do you really think there is something after this life?' I told you I really did think that and you'd be so happy once you got there. One morning you said, ‘Will you come lay next to me?' I remember being so exhausted and only wanting to go to bed and sleep. I said,'Don't think there's not room enough my my body dad?' And as painful as it was for you to shift your position becasue of the cancer in your spine you made room. I crawled up beside you and as l lay down, you asked for my arm and I laid it over your chest and you wrapped your hands and arms around it and held on tight and stared at the wall. When I awoke later you were still holding on tightly and staring off into space. A day or so later you went into a coma. When the time came that you were in the throes of dying it was my wedding anniverary. That day I told my sister, ‘Oh God he's going to die on my anniversary.' That night when you took your last breath it was peaceful. You just took it and I knew it was your last as the breath left your body and your head rolled to the side. I automatically looked at the clock and it was 12:05 on Sept. 1st. I pointed to the clock and said, ‘Look, he's given me one last gift, he didn't die on my anniversary.'

You were given a firemans funeral with all the pomp and circumstance that goes with something like that. You were given quite a farwell.

But in the years that have gone by since I have come to realize that a lot of your philosophy you used to tell me (and I rolled my eyes at) is actually quite true. In fact, I'm sure you know that I have opened my mouth to speak and a Clydeism will come rolling out and I think, ‘Oh My God, did I just say that? Well damnit, it's true!' I still miss our conversations, even the ones where I was thinking, ‘Oh boy here we go again....' Sometimes I wonder, ‘What would dad think or do?' and all I have to do is ask myself, ‘Well Donna what would he say?' and it comes to me unbidden.

But the time you bought me a Word Processor and told me, ‘Write Donna you have talent. I love reading what you write.' I was mystified and thought, "yes but dad you are prejudiced just a wee bit'. After your death while cleaning your room there was a battered old notebook that had a note paperclipped to it with a fairly large clip so the note wouldn't be lost it said three words,'Give To Donna' and inside was all the famiy history you could remember over the years all stuffed into this book because you wanted me to ‘do something with it'. When I look at the book today I am saddened to see the ink is fading and one day I opened it and to my horror found the ink was fading from the papers too. I quickly copied everything on the Xerox machine. Now you are all gone, the sisters, mom and you along with many other relatives. In fact, we are now at the top as the oldest generation. I look at myself and think better get busy and make dad proud you're no spring chicken anymore. Even though you lived to be 86 years old I think you kept going because you needed to, to be there for those around you. I look in the mirror and think, ‘Tomorrow isn't promised to us' but it doesn't motivate me.' I imagine by now you know of all the times I just invited something to happen to me. Like the time I took my car out on a hilly road, blared the music and drove it doing over 90 mph. A road where so many people have lost there lives. But was there a car or truck or anything on the road that day? Nope not a one. I went over 30 miles to my destination and back again. I imagine you are usually watching during those low times when I actually do something stupid like that.

Yep I have a feeling I'm not getting out of this alive..after all you didn't. But you had done so many notable things in your life that you are remembered for. To many people you were many things but to me you were the first most important man in my life from that night the nurse announced my arrival and I miss you often. So this is a Happy Birthday wish to you dad. You were born on this day 102 years ago. As long as I'm able to remember it I always acknowledge it in some way.

Love and miss you dad, more than you know...

Clyde R. Thomas January 27, 1909-September 1, 1995 Born in Waldo, Ks. Died in Parkville, Mo at his home with his loving daughters by his side.

The Embarrassment of Not Being A Sports Fan!

I know, I know it's been a long time....suck it up. Here's something for ya:

Okay, gang listen up here is one of my blonde moments. It was early on in my life so the number would be down in the hundreds or so. But when I was newly married and around 19 years old I lived near  KCI Airport and worked at the Hilton Airport Plaza Inn as their phone operator. Now you might think 'no big deal to answer the telephone' but not so. There was a big electronic machine there, no wires, too new for that, just buttons to push. It had 36 lines into the hotel. And believe me the night Jerry Litton was killed I saw everyone of those little buttons light up. The board looked like a Christmas Tree. However being the first night working alone after training I failed to see the beauty in that. My thoughts were something like, "Oh Shit Fire and Holy Hell!' So you kind of get an idea about how harried an operator can get. You learn to answer talk fast and push a lot of buttons to connect people and keep going. You also deal with the customers within the hotel. The Good, The Bad & The Ugly.


Now you go in about 15 minutes before your shift starts and stay over about that long so you overlap with the previous or next operator so she can get you up to speed on what's going on, etc. Well as you can imagine your wall and board is covered in sticky notes of things to remember. There was a big carousel of little cards in alphabetical order of everyone who was staying at the hotel. Customers calling down ask all kinds of questions and you help them out as best you can etc. or put them in touch with the right people who can.


Me not being a sports person and never having been, I don't keep 'important' information in my head like names of football teams or baseball teams or which is which for that matter. One evening we had two teams as guests in our hotel. One a football team and one baseball. Now I don't remember exactly who they were, but I'm thinking they were the baseball team from St. Louis, Mo and the football team was from California. I'm sure I'm wrong but I'm going to use these two teams to tell the story.

It was a busy, oh so busy, night as you can imagine with these important people that were staying there. Not that I looked at it that way, it was just another night the hotel was full. Meaning my ass was going to be jumping all night long. After many long hours and dealing with people 'after hours' when the bars shut down, I'm beginning to become a little frazzled. One gentleman calls down and says, 'During the big game tomorrow can you tell me who is playing?' Simple question right? Wrong....I'm searching through notes on my board I see Oakland Raiders and St. Louis Cardinals. So I say, 'Yes sir the Oakland Raiders will be playing the St. Louis Cardinals but I don't have the game schedule.' There was a long silence and then amusement in his voice as he valiantly kept from laughing while he said, 'Well now that will be an interesting game!' And I, wanting to be as interesting and nice as possible, in a boring voice (because I could care less about sports) said, 'Oh why is that?' And he says, 'Because honey, one is football and one is baseball!' I was speechless as I stumbled around and finally started laughing and said, 'Is it obvious I'm not into sports?' I was just reading the notes on who the guests are tonight so I just assumed....' He was so amused he came down to the front desk and asked the desk clerk to please get me from the back he'd like to meet me. I think my face was ten different shades of red when I walked out to talk to him.


When I repeated the story to the family the next day they got the biggest laugh out of it and continued, to my chagrin, to tell it for years to come. So I guess it pays to know a little bit about everything, including sports. I know more than I did at 19 but honestly I could still make that mistake today. Only today I'd be saying, "Oh hell I have no idea.' The man was extremely nice, he was a rep for the makers of very expensive sunglasses and he asked for my address and said he wanted very much to send me a pair of some very nice sunglasses for a very special lady. And he made good on his promise too. One day in the mail I received a box with the sunglasses and a tag on them telling me they had ray ban in them, how much UV protection and a lot of other things, plus a very nice note telling me I made his day. By looking at them I could tell they were quite pricey. I wore them for years until they fell apart but they were always the reminder of the blunder I had made, but had turned out pretty good in the end. He ended up making me feel a lot better and I ended up meeting an interesting person.

I guess sometimes it pays to be sports challenged....