Blood not required...
In a previous post, I mentioned the early years of my childhood and my biological father passing when I was nine. A few years later my mother was introduced to a man and after a time, he married into the family. Mind you, my newly acquired step-father took on 3 children. Additionally, the knowledge he would have no biological children of his own as my mother had her tubes tied. And it would be an understatement to say that we 3 pre-teen kids were not going to make it easy for him.
My stepdad was a good-old-boy from west Texas, his parents were high school sweethearts that were married until they passed. My grandad worked the oil fields all his life for Gulf/Chevron and his own roughneck business until retirement. My grandma was a traditional housewife, raised my stepdad and aunt, took care of the house and grandads books. They didn't have an easy life but managed to put their 2 kids through college and retired modestly with land for cattle and fields for watermelon and peanuts. Grandad one one of nine siblings which made for big family gatherings, the best of which was Father's Day where the extended family all got together for BBQ, homemade ice cream (every flavor imaginable), pies and cobbler.
As I eluded, we kids and my stepdad mixed like oil and water. By his standards, we were hellions and he was raised in a household of hard love. Consequently this is how he raised us. Ironically, I noticed when I graduated high school and went off to college, my stepdad's attitude became more accepting, like I'd crossed some right of passage. From that point on, we were on much better ground.
Not to make it sound like things were all bad, we knew he was providing for us and we knew he cared. He was simply limited by his ability to express it with a normal amount of affection. Instead, he strived to to show us with his actions:
- He taught us how to respect our elders with a simple yes/no sir/ma'am
- He taught us how to hunt and fish
- Ride horses , rope cattle, play baseball and golf
- The responsibility of raising show cattle and the thrill of stock shows and rodeos around the great state of Texas.
- He made sure we had a (hand-me-down) car to drive when we got our license
- And the opportunity to go to college without debt
- How to work hard and be responsible
In my adulthood, he was always there for me and we grew closer. And at some point I stopped calling him by his first name and started calling him Dad, which he truly deserved. Something he never asked for or demanded either way.
Ironically, I married into a ready-made family myself with 2 children. Somethings I strived to do better, especially when it came to displaying affection. Regardless, it too had its challenges and I found myself apologising to my dad multiple times for the karma I was enduring. But it never stopped me from trying to pass on the lessons my dad taught me.
My dad was not without his faults, but he took care of us and the grandkids. And most importantly, he took care of my mother which sadly ended with 3 years of slow degradation and suffering from ALS. And the stubborn old fart that was my Dad, he was the type that didn't take COVID seriously up until the point it put him in the hospital.
I'll never forget my last conversation with him admitting "COVID is no joke" and confessing his doubt of ever walking out of the hospital. I tried to reassure him that he had survived a 5-way bypass and was golfing 6 weeks later. I reminded him of his battle with a liver tumor that didn't take him. But ultimately, I think he was just tired, done and lonely without mom. And to his words he never walked out of the hospital.
For me, the hardest part of losing those close is the reality I'll never get to talk with them. To hear their voice. To talk about the stupid weather, how the Rangers are doing, or how proud I am of the young adults my kids have become. Something I credit directly to my Mom and Dad for raising me to be the man and father I am.
The photo is 3 generations enjoying a weekend of red snapper fishing off the Galveston coast. I'm not 100% sure when it was, but I estimate 2000'ish timetrame. My grandad in his signature attire: bib-overalls, a long sleeve shirt and small-brim hat to shade from the sun (consequently how he was buried when he passed). Then me and my Dad. Fortunately, there's photos and memories...