The signs were all there a month ago after Dad fell and
broke his hip that a return to his independent apartment was unlikely and that
at a minimum he would need assisted living if not custodial care. So I began
the process of sorting his possessions for downsizing. As I went through the files
in his desk, I discovered one labeled obituaries – and it contained lots of
them. Many where of people I did not know, many others of family or long time friends.
Dad had begun that collection many years ago but he was still adding to it. I
found more recent ones in a pile on top of his desk, waiting for filing. As I
was making arrangements Tim commented
on how many nonagenarians were now passing away and that one friend of my
dad’s who died last week had simply grown weary of mourning the
deaths of so many family members and friends. I don’t know if Dad was weary of
the mourning as much as he had a growing desire to just be with them again. I
told a friend that I only saw my father weep openly once and
that was at his mother’s passing. It seems to me that it was then that Dad
started talking about the great reunion we would have with loved ones in
Heaven. That thought grew in significance to him as the years increased to even
the day before he fell, it was his prayer as he sat with Ben
and me that Sunday morning.
Writing was something my dad did a lot of. Another file I found labeled Correspondence,
was full of letters he had written, or drafts of letters he sent. I’m not sure
why he kept the drafts but he did. His dictionary was so worn, you could no
longer read the word Dictionary on the cover. He wrote letters to the Press and
Sun Bulletin editor regularly, and he wrote list after list of prayer requests.
He also helped others with their writing, proof reading and encouraging
neighbors, relatives, and veteran friends to publish their stories.
Dad loved the development of email and, for a senior
citizen, he adapted to it quickly, using it as an important tool for his correspondence.
His email address book held well over 200 names. There was a downside to
email, though, because there was not a spam email containing the word FREE that
didn’t get Dad’s attention. This lead to lots of things arriving in the mail as
well as viruses that killed 2 computers.
My parents were very generous people but Mom would on occasion accuse Dad of
letting his Scottish roots keep him a bit on the, well, cheap side. Dad would
have preferred to be known as frugal. For example, he used every inch of a
piece of paper, whether a 2x2 post it note or an 8x11 page. I found hundreds of
scraps of paper with scripture verses, notes from something he read, upcoming
events, telephone numbers, a health tip, and sometimes all of the above squeezed
in on the same paper! He reused his computer paper. When something was printed
on one side that he didn’t need anymore, he turned it over so he could print
something on the other side.
Dad was a genuine Mr. Fix It. He didn’t just have the T-shirt
that said it, he lived it. He fixed his own cars, made plumbing and electrical
repairs, remodeled basements…he could fix almost anything. Later in life he
fell in love with fixing old clocks and taught himself enough to work on some
very precious time pieces for folks who had long given up on them ever working
again. He never charged for his work, seriously undercutting the other local
clock repair shops. He said he couldn’t charge because he couldn’t afford his double-your-money-back
guarantee.
Dad didn’t just fix things, he also wanted to see
relationships fixed. I witnessed it in
our own extended family but also found letters in his files that gave evidence
of his efforts to foster reconciliation.
My Dad was smart and yet humble, he was strong and fun. He loved to read and spent hours each day reading from a large assortment of books. He
loved working all kinds of puzzles, Sudoku, cryptos, Jumbles, word searches. He
received a Rubiks cube when they were first popular and figured it out in a few
hours.
He loved jokes – he had a file just for jokes and lists of jokes
included in his business files!
He liked to play games, especially card games like Pounce,
with family. He’d sit for hours while on vacation at the Cape playing solitaire
while Mom puttered in the kitchen. He loved to sing and listen to my mother
play the piano. He loved fruit salad of any kind. He loved the Andy Griffith
show. And he loved Friendly’s!
Near his 29th birthday on October 6, 1953, Jim
Crenshaw brought home his baby girl. As Mom repeated the story, she said how I
fit perfectly in his forearm, my head resting in his palm. As time marched
forward and dimensions changed, my daddy could no longer hold me in one arm but
he did hold me in his heart and I believe in his daily prayers. When I was
diagnosed with breast cancer and undergoing treatment, my dad increased his
prayers and asked others to join him. He would ask me every time we were
together “How are your treatments going?” and I’d reassure him they were going
well and doing what they needed to do. Even after radiation treatments ended
last July, Dad would regularly ask “How are your treatments going?” and I’d
remind him that my treatments were over and I was being monitored but all was
well. He’d still pray for me and ask others to pray for my treatments. Last
week, even as his condition was deteriorating so severely he opened his eyes one
afternoon and asked me how my treatments were going? I answered “They’re going
very well Dad, and doing just what they need to do!” I didn’t know until
Wednesday when they told me, my daddy wanted to make sure somebody was
still praying for me so he asked my dear friends, Skeet and Arline, to carry on.
I had the best father a girl could ever have and I confess,
I took it for granted much too often. He’s probably the main reason I never got
married. No one ever measured up to the standard I was familiar with.
More than all his wonderful qualities and accomplishments,
he was a devoted follower of Christ and even though he could no longer hold me
in one arm like when I was a newborn, he did all he could to lead me to the One
who holds me in His hands now and into eternity.
Thank you Dad! Fair winds and following seas until we’re
together again.
