You’re where you are in life through a series of events. I
suppose the fact that for every action there is a consequence comes into play.
At this point, I’m pretty sure that one major events in my life dictated what
paths I’ve taken.
The most serious event that changed my life was the death of
my dad. Jim and I were only 13 when th grade, our teachers came
to get us to deliver the news.
Because he died when we were so young, neither Jim nor I
ever learned to do things like carpentry, plumbing, or simple electrical
skills. After we became adults, our efforts in those areas led to haphazardly-constructed
structures. On one summer job, I was in charge of maintenance. Amazing! A
leaking toilet challenge led to my putting half a container of some goo on the
water supply line. I’d also installed the wax ring upside down. Another job opportunity
came soon, and after I left, that toilet erupted and flooded the bathroom and
another room below. It wasn’t until midlife that Jim and I became “competent”
in dealing with the simplest home projects.
Jim and I weren’t angels during high school. Mother held our
feet to the fire and meted out punishment swiftly. Still, we did our share of
drinking and carousing, and, in Jim’s case, fighting. Daddy would have put a
quick end to some of that behavior because a team of parents can better sniff
out the wrong doings of their children. It must be said, however, that we
refrained from doing many things because we understood the tough life Mother
led and never wanted to disappoint her with dangerous or illegal activities
that were available during those years. That includes drugs and dangerous
stunts to which many teens are drawn.
Mother was the single parent in a house with 3 teenaged
boys. Decisions had to be made without Daddy’s input. It’s because he was gone
that I feel sure that Mother insisted that we go away for our first year of
college. She felt that we needed to learn to be on our own and told us we could
return home to attend school after that one year. She knew in her heart that
none of us would move back. More than likely, Daddy would have had us stay home
and attend UT to save money and keep us from doing anything stupid.
Because she insisted that we become independent, all three
of us worked hard to earn college degrees and find secure jobs. Dal and Jim
married early; both they and their wives were only 19. However, those marriages
always remained solid; Dal’s illness posed problems, but Little Brenda stayed
by his side until the end. Jim’s marriage to Big Brenda will reach year 44 in
August.
It was at college that I met Amy. She was a Cookeville girl,
and the minister of the church harassed
me until I asked her out. Because
Mother insisted we go away to college, I was able to find Amy and marry her 41
years ago. The chain of events that occurred after Daddy’s death led to that
marriage, the birth of two children, and the presence of grandson Madden. 
Although I’ve been a slow learner, Daddy’s death was partly
responsible for my giving up smoking. He died of lung cancer, as did Mother and
Dal. I can still remember vividly each illness and the devastating effects the
disease inflicted. That first loss of Daddy set in motion the eventual decision
to give up such a devilish habit. Of course, I suspect that the smoking that I
did for so many years was the result of watching both parents puff away for
years.
I’ve often wondered how life might have been different if
Daddy hadn’t died at the age of 53. No
doubt, many of the things that are part
of my life would not exist, and I am sure Amy and I wouldn’t have met, a fact that would have erased Lacey and Dallas’ existences. What I wish is that Daddy could have watched what we boys became and have had the opportunity to meet his daughters-in-law
