Today would have been my Dad’s 92nd birthday. He passed away in 2014 and life has not been the same since he left this world. I miss having deep discussions with him and asking him about the day-to-day life circumstances involving marriage and raising my children. We also talked a lot about what was happening in our country. His laugh was contagious/infectious and his stern words were heartfelt. How did this man become my Dad in the first place?
Car Accident Changed My Family
My father, not the dad mentioned above, died from injuries sustained from an automobile accident when I was less than a year old. My mother was left grieving with two young boys, both less than two years of age. I only know my father through stories told by my mother and most family members at family reunions. They talked so highly of him and have always shared that he brightened the room when he entered. But unfortunately, I have absolutely no recollection of him.
Now enters my Dad. He was an older brother of my father, yes, my uncle. He was divorced at the time after having a family with three children. One of my late uncles and my aunt worked on getting my Mom and Dad together. They dated for a bit and then were married. So, my family now consisted of my one biological brother, my 2 step-sisters and one step-brother(actually cousins). A little over a year later, my half-brother came along and my half-sister eleven months later.
Family Tree and Other Assorted Jokes
Can you imagine explaining this to folks as a teenager? Talk about getting strange looks! Being from the South, it would seem like some stereotypes were definitely being lived out in real life. This scenario has created some issues when it comes to diagramming a family tree. It doesn’t matter to our family. We love each other.
When I was about five or six, I was starting to catch on that things were a little different with the dynamics of our family. When it was explained that my uncle was my Dad, being a stupid kid that I was, I started calling him Uncle Dad. I thought it was funny at the time. However, my Mom was quick to let me know that this was hurting him, so I stopped immediately.
I Want To Be Like My Dad
My Dad was a relentless worker at his job being a manager of a retail grocery store. He worked 60-80 hours each week and was also raising a family of 6. We attended church regularly. I watched him read and take notes in his Bible daily. I now understand why he napped so much and appreciate him even more. He loved people and loved getting together at family reunions sharing stories and sharing his love for The Lord. I have been so blessed that he shared this with me and my siblings. It has rubbed off and I hope that I’m doing him proud by raising my family. I’ve never felt like a step-son to him. He treated me like I was his own and I was.
When I graduated from college, I told him I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you for paying my way through college. That’s right, when I walked across the stage to receive my diploma, I owed $0. His reply was so Dad. He said, “You can repay me by doing the same for your kids.” So far, one has graduated from Georgia Tech and I have one that is two years away from being done. Both will have $0 to owe when they cross the stage.
The Love For Travel
We made several trips from the Chattanooga area out to San Diego to visit family during my childhood. The last time our family drove out to San Diego was in 1983. I was 15 getting ready to turn 16. My Dad drove out later than the rest of us because of work. A family emergency wisked my Mom off to Ohio. So, my Dad, along with 4 kids ranging in ages from 11-16, had to make the long trek back to Chattanooga.
We had 2 vehicles packed full. I think we even had a wicker set of furniture purchased at a swap meet — that’s a flea market to us Southerners. Dad and my two younger siblings in a van, and my biological brother with me in a powder blue Chevy Chevette started the journey. The Chevette was no match for keeping up with the van. My brother and I alternated times driving the Chevette. The van was equipped with a CB radio. Dad listened to the radio chatter from truckers laughing at 2 kids putting along the interstate in a little Chevette. That infectious laugh wasn’t so funny when we made stops because I was pretty nervous driving alongside those big rigs. We made it home and I’m surprised I didn’t kiss the ground when we got out of the car.
Most travel for our family during my childhood was going to visit family. It was an incredible childhood for me. I’ll share more of these stories as they come back to me. I hope to share stories involving flyswatters, ice removal and other fond memories.
Who would have ever thought the journeys of John Golf would eventually become fun shared experience with thousands of readers and that all those journeys started with a good man who let a kid drive cross-country in a powder blue Chevette? Sometimes you never know where the road will take you, but you sure can be thankful for the wonderful people who choose to ride alongside you.
If you are fortunate to still have your parents on this fine planet, I encourage you take a moment to let them know how much you appreciate them. What I would give to give this man a kiss on the top of his head and hug him one more time!
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Be blessed and safe travels!!!
