Thursday, March 16, 2006

3/16 Happy birthday, Dad

Eighty-one years ago today my Dad was born, the only son of a doting mother and father. He died 20 years ago, before his 61st birthday. My brothers were playing games in the dining room. Dad was in his water bed in the back room. Joe and Cindy built the room for him after they bought the house from Daddy. Dad was confined to bed for the last 20 years of his life. He was able to walk around a bit, but was in constant pain from back surgeries, the last one a spinal fusion.

He was the friendliest of men. "Call me Eddie," he'd say as he shook your hand. A great gift that both of our parents gave us was that we all thought we were the favorite. In a poor family that is a great gift indeed.

I remember him prior to his back injuries. He and mom loved to go out to the tavern, or have friends over for cards, games, or just conversation. Those visits though required that he go to one of the neighborhood taverns (there were many) and get a jug of beer. In those days, that's how you bought it. It was always fun to be allowed to go along and watch the bartender fill the gallon jug with the beautiful amber liquid with the froth on top.

His extreme pain began shortly after our sister Jill died. He was in pain before that, but not bedridden. I often wonder if his grief caused him to give up. I'll never know, and I guess it doesn't matter. But he could hardly bring himself to talk about her. Mom and the rest of us would go to another room and talk about her beauty and how adorable she was and how much we missed her. Dad just couldn't stand that pain.

After he got sick, he shrank before my eyes. Not just physically, but also personality wise. But he was always happy to have any of us or our kids visit him, as long as we didn't interrupt his soap operas. Yeah, he got hooked.

I can still hear him laughing so hard that it would cause pain, but he'd still laugh. He's the one who taught me not to gossip. You'd seldom hear him say bad things about people. Probably one reason so many people loved him.

The family likes to think that the last thing Daddy heard was the laughter of the boys playing games. In honor of that, Joe and Cindy have hosted family games on January 1, the day he died. And as I write every 1/1, we then all go out to the cemetary and drink beer with Mom and Dad to celebrate their lives. It's one of the many reasons I love my family.

I love you, Daddy. I still miss you.

11 comments:

Jeff said...

That's a beautiful tribute, Jer. :)

Jerilyn Dufresne, author said...

Thanks, Jeff. I'm blessed with a wonderful family. I'm just surprised my brothers haven't shown up to make fun of me--that's one of the family traditions!

Anonymous said...

WOW
The second time you ever made me cry. The first time was when you sat on me.

It's like Cindy says a lot "They have one hell of a legacy going"

Jerilyn Dufresne, author said...

Wow. No sooner said than done. You made me laugh, Joe. Love you, and see you soon.

Anonymous said...

Love you, grandpa.

Jerilyn Dufresne, author said...

Robbie, so good to see you here. But you wrote this when it was 1:43 AM in Okinawa and you're leaving there very soon. Get some sleep. CAN'T WAIT TO SEE YOU AND BEATA, HONEY! It's been way too long. I love you, Mom

Anonymous said...

jer...wonderful tribute and your dad was a wonderful grandpa too...I can still hear him say "bring my little guy out here, I miss him" then he would sit in the bed and 'chat' with Adam, and he didn't seem to care what was on TV. I wish Adam could remember him, b/c he sure had his grandpa wrapped around his little finger. He is missed at 1815 Spring!

Jerilyn Dufresne, author said...

Thanks, Cindy. You are such a sweetie. I'm in the midst of publishing today's blog, but it seems to be taking a while. I just talked to Bea and she mentioned you and how she can't wait to meet you.

Anonymous said...

augh...the wishes of the innocent! Seriously, I can't wait to meet her too....SERIOUSLY.

Anonymous said...

I always love reading/hearing about grandma and grandpa. There are so many things I remember about them but being so young, there's so much I don't know. It's always neat to learn something new.

Jerilyn Dufresne, author said...

Hi Kelly. Rob and Jill feel the same way too. Aunt Jer