My Dad...

Happy Fathers' Day!!!

For some reason I've been thinking about my Dad off and on all day today. He's been gone a long time -- over twelve years now, but it really doesn't seem like it. He often comes to mind when we're watching baseball games. Since some of my earliest memories are of playing with my Sister Sherry under the bleachers while he played Town Team baseball, I imagine that's probably why. I remember him squatting in the classic catcher's pose. He used to squat that way when he was chatting with other guys who were sitting down. I can recall my first glimpse of him at the railroad station when we (Mom and Sherry and I) arrived in Oklahoma where he was stationed at Fort Sill -- squatting down, smoking a cigarette, waiting for the train.


In later years, Dad umpired many baseball games (as well as refereeing for football and basketball). Our house smelled in season of analgesic balm that he used on his sore muscles. When he was too old to umpire, he remained an avid fan of the game -- you could count on baseball being on the TV any time you went to visit in the summertime. It was fun to watch a game with him -- he was always ready to comment on how he thought calls should have been made. If there was a questionable call on a game I was watching, I would pick up the phone and check to see what he thought. I find myself still thinking I should call and see what he thinks when something unusual happens during a game...


Forry and I bought a brick at the Spokane Indians Baseball Park in Dad's memory a few years after he passed on. It seemed a fitting memorial. When we scattered his ashes in Cow Lake as he had requested, I read the poem, "Casey at the Bat" in his honor.


I read somewhere that a person is never truly gone as long as someone still thinks about them. If that's the case, my Dad will live forever!