More Sinner Or Saint?

Father’s Day is upon us, so in honor of my father, I’m going to share a couple of stories about the man that was sometimes more “sinner” than “saint”.

When I was a little girl, the biggest, smartest, most wonderful man in the world was my father Clarence, aka Daddy Clank.  How did he get this nickname?  When my two older brothers and I were little, Keith, the “clever” one, gave him the moniker because he said dad was old and ran like robot.  This was proven wrong; when we made up a song about him whose chorus was “stupid, boopid a pocketful of woo pits.”  He wasn’t running like a robot then when he caught us and gave us all a spanking for being disrespectful!  He also didn’t have a pocket full of woo pits, whatever those were supposed to be.

During my school years all of the mothers in town would say to me, “Your father is the handsomest man in South Glens Falls.”  I remember thinking, “Are you kidding?” but when I look back, my father was a very good-looking man.  He always took pride in his appearance and wore the spiffiest tailor-made suits around.  He was a church deacon and ascended to the highest offices in the New York American Legion Organization, the Veterans of Foreign Wars and the Disabled Veterans of America.  I take after him, what with being a giant and all…As a matter of fact; my family nickname came from him.  When he worked as a machinist at Hercules, his nickname was “Debbie”, derived from our last name.  So when he had a daughter who resembled him, what was her nickname?  That’s right, “little Debbie” which later got shortened to just Debbie after I wasn’t so little…  But it could have been worse: my sister’s nickname was “rabbit” and my baby brother’s is Clanky.   So I guess in the grand scheme of things, Debbie ain’t too bad!

I always admired my father.  He was a good provider, worked hard and took care of his family.  Although most of the child-rearing chores were left to my mother, he did the disciplining but also the treating, as well.  Every Wednesday, which was payday, he’d come home with everyone’s favorite treat: Smarties for me, bubble gum for Keith and Twizzlers for Carl.  Ah, those were the days, before the 2^nd generation kids arrived!

But he wasn’t perfect.  Nope, Daddy Clank liked to “tip the bottle a little”, or as he liked to say, “go see the turkey drink water” to unwind.  Of course, my mother heartily disapproved of this and tried to get him to not go out and drink.  But Daddy Clank was clever, almost as clever as Keith.  I remember one evening he said to us kids, “Hey, who wants an ice cream cone?”  “I do, I do!” my brothers and I yelled.  “We want chocolate, strawberry and chocolate marshmallow!”  Then he went to my mother and said, “Marie, I’m just going to drive to Stewart’s and get the kids an ice cream cone.  I’ll be right back.”  “Clarence, are you really going to get ice cream for the kids?”  “Of course I am!”  Well, needless to say, that was the last we saw of my father that night.  We were little, maybe 4, 6, and 7, so once it was bed time we forgot all about it.

The next afternoon we were playing out in the front yard, and suddenly Carl sees my father walking down the street heading for home.  Now, he may not have remembered where he left the car, but sure enough, in a cardboard carrier, he had our 3 ice cream cones!  And that’s what redeemed Daddy Clank in our childish eyes.

My father was always my biggest fan.  No matter what I wanted to do or who I wanted to be, he was there cheering me on.  At my Girl Scout talent shows, he bragged that his daughter was the best dancer there.  When I modeled in college and worked fashion shows and travelled with a bodyguard, I was the best model ever!  When I decided to waste 2 years in college studying media arts instead of something that would provide me with a real income after graduation, it didn’t matter because I was going to be a media sensation someday.  When I got my “big break” on the radio, he was listening!  And even though he never read anything I’ve ever written, sure enough, I’m the best writer today.  I’m sure he is celebrating me being published on Nook and Kindle, whether they have those in Heaven or not J!

The one thing he didn’t approve of, which again points out the fact that he was very wise, was my ex-husband.  After a while I didn’t approve of him either, but that’s a whole other story.  Anyway, my father was able to see through the veneer that I couldn’t, and was heartbroken when I moved away with the guy.  I didn’t find out until years later that when I left it broke my father’s heart, and he cried and prayed many a night that I would be safe.  That also proves there’s power in prayer, because I made it back from “Daemon” safely.

He wasn’t just a good father to me, but a wonderful grandfather to my 2 daughters.  He had long since retired when they were born, so he had all the time in the world to spoil them absolutely rotten.   I can’t think of anyone who loved me or my daughters as much as my father did.

But time has a way of marching on.  On February 6, 2004, he entered the hospital with pneumonia and kidney failure; and he just steadily declined for the next few months.  He had some really good days and some really bad ones, but at the end my mother signed him out of the hospital so he could be at home with the family.  He had a list of ailments as long as my arm by then.  But that didn’t matter because I loved him just the same; and visited him every day.  To paraphrase a bible verse: “I love him because he first loved me.”  That man loved me and believed in me since day one.  I prayed so much for him but he was 86 and apparently God needed a buddy to eat Girl Scout cookies with.  So he went peacefully in his sleep one morning at the end of October 2004…

Yep, I miss him a lot even to this day.  But I don’t waste time mourning: I celebrate him, reminisce about him and share the laughs with others. And if you’re lucky enough to still have a father who knew how to get the job done, make sure you let him know how much you appreciate him.