Bring Out the Old Pictures

What I like best about Father’s Day is it was overlooked in my family. We downplayed most occasions and holidays. Thank goodness, one less thing to  haunt me. I can choose to reminisce as I please. This year, I am choosing to bring out the old pictures.

Here’s one of Dad’s favorite pictures of himself.

 Dad enjoyed his time as a County Sheriff Special Deputy.  As I recall the special part of it was code for part-time employment. He had another full-time day job, and two other part-time jobs. As a deputy sheriff he drove with his partner in the police cruiser, chaperoned inner city dances, and was on the front line as racial tension came to a head in surprisingly violent venues like the county fair and drive-through restaurants. As a family we went to the fair in the safer daytime hours, and then heard about all the nighttime terrors at dinner the next day. 

There was extra pay involved for those who were part of the mounted horse riding deputies. It was BYOH (bring your own horse) though. Luckily, Dad could borrow our landlord’s horse any time necessary. It was mostly PR centered, showing up and parading at horse shows and fairs. Dad won first place at the State Fair, when he was asked at the  last minute to fill in a slot at the lineup and race. Who knew Charlie had it in him?

Have to say, this is one of my favorites. 

The home permanent picture with the ever present William Penn cigar. Dad had worn his wavy hair short and in a style much like Dean Martin’s. Styles were changing. Men’s hair was getting longer and without the grease. He was going for a relaxed ‘fro kind of look. Think: Tom Jones or the Brady Bunch dad. 

This one is from his Army days when he was stationed in Germany during the Korean War. 

I would sit for hours as a kid and go through his picture album. I also would sit for hours and watch World War II movies and TV shows with Dad. I put so much time in the European Theater, I felt eligible for Veteran benefits. One special memory is of Vic Morrow from the TV show, Combat. Dad was on Special Deputy assignment at an amusement park where Mr. Morrow was a guest. Dad brought me backstage to meet him and get his autograph. That was a special treat for me.

Dad loved and married three women. I knew them all and attended two of the weddings. Turn around is fair play, he attended two of mine. His first love was my mother. They had a little family together. They stayed married for 17 years. It was a rough break-up for everyone involved. 

I like this picture of the three of us together. 

They are close in age here to my youngest daughter’s age now. In other words, they are young, yet forever ingrained in my comprehension as the older ones.

I always think of them as resembling Spencer Tracy and Elizabeth Taylor. 

Jean was Dad’s great love. He adored her. 

I like this picture, taken at a friend’s home. 

I was there. The buddy and his wife were having marital difficulties and would soon after get divorced. Jean and Dad were recently married and in their golden era. I loved seeing them happy together and enjoying life. They were together for over 30 years. Dad lovingly tended to her at the end of her life. We visited from miles away when she was in home hospice. My husband took Dad out for a short drive. It was his first time away from Jean in weeks. Alone together, I asked how she was feeling about what was going on with her. She amazed me with her reply. She thought about it, smiled and said, “I feel protected.”

Dad’s last love was Thelma. 

They were  good for each other. They were married for seven years. It was Thelma and her children who would lovingly tend to my father as he slipped away. There was only kindness and tenderness between them. Laughter and peace filled their home. Thelma was much like my mom in many ways. Dad had come full circle. He once told her, “You wouldn’t have liked me when I was younger. Young me would not have been good enough to be married to young you.” Thelma found that hard to believe.

Sometimes it is the children who are fortunate enough to watch the parents grow up.

I choose to end off with this picture.

It was a workplace celebration. I was there. One of the women received a pink nightgown. Dad felt the urge to put it on. Wadded up cloth napkins underneath were intended to complete the look. One could say his foundation (garment) crumbled. He just kind of went with it. 

I love the picture.

I love the memory.

 I loved the laughter.  

I loved my dad. 

Today seems fitting to share this picture of my dad in drag.

Happy Father’s Day. 

(The End.)

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