Monday, June 26, 2017

Oh My Papa

A belated Father’s Day memorial.

 

 

 

My Dad was a self-made man. Growing up on a small farm in Iowa in the early 1900’s, his Father died at the age of 36 leaving his widow along with four children under the age of nine. My Dad was the oldest of the four, so he became the man of the house and ran the farm.

 

One of my uncles told me how, as a young boy, Dad hired a grown man to work on the farm. When the man’s work was sub-par, Dad whipped him with a branch. My Dad had to grow up quickly, never having a true childhood.

 

After high school, he went away to Ashland College in Ohio and got his bachelor’s degree. Eventually, he earned his PhD in chemistry from the University of Michigan and started his career in research chemistry. He finished his career as a professor at Morehead State University in Kentucky.

 

It’s pretty amazing all that Dad overcame and accomplished in his life and in the process, he provided for us. I never dealt with the kind of adversity that he did. Although he wasn’t the most affectionate Father, he had a softer side to him.

 

His nickname for my Mom was “Mudge”. I never questioned where the name came from, but it was a term of endearment that he used throughout their marriage. His nickname for me was “Joe Boy”. Who’d a thunk it!

 

As a teenager, when I would ask him to help me with homework, he helped me to work through it so that I did it, not him. Then he would say, “Now you’re cooking with gas”. Whatever that means.

 

He always woke me up in the morning for school by singing “School days, school days, dear old golden rule days. Reading and writing and arithmetic, taught by the rule of the hickory stick”. He couldn’t carry a tune, but it sure got me out of bed.

 

The same was true when singing hymns at church. He belted it out whether it was the right note or not. The Pastor once said that he could tell when the Williams were at church. I think that was a compliment.

 

He most certainly wasn’t a saint, but when I was young I thought he was perfect. I idolized him and wanted to make him proud of me. Any time that he spent with me became a lifetime memory. On the flip side, he could raise his voice in anger, and I’d start crying.

 

When I was little, my sisters had a record by Eddie Fisher called “Oh My Papa”. The words to the song always touched my heart, and can still choke me up.

 

Oh, my pa-pa, to me he was so wonderful
Oh, my pa-pa, to me he was so good


Gone are the days when he could take me on his knee
And with a smile he'd change my tears to laughter

 

Happy belated Father’s Day Dad. I love you.

 

 

 

 

(If God has spoken to you through this blog, please feel free to share it with others.)


 

 

 






 
 

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