My father was a man I both admired and was fascinated by. I was born when he was 41 years old, and so missed the first half of his life - with various paths that led him to achieve a level of notoriety in semipro baseball, get drafted into the Korean War, and pursue a career (with family in tow) that took him across the sea to reside for a few years in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia and Lahore, Pakistan.
By the time I came along, the family had settled in the smallish midwestern town of Waterloo, IA, where he served for 24 years as an elementary school principal. That second stage of his life, where he touched thousands of young lives and commanded a respect that resulted in him being known as "Mr. Hylton" to all but his nuclear family, represented the man I knew as "dad." After retirement, he re-invented himself, transforming from the role of disciplinarian to jolly grandfather who exuded devotion and interest in his grandchildren with his every act.
I was always fascinated by that earlier, amazing time of his life, though, where he was seemingly bold, adventurous, and full of piss and vinegar; not the stolid and steady patriarch I knew in my youth. Fascinated to the extent that I actually recorded two 45 minute interviews with him for NPR's "National Day of Listening," about a year ago that are avabilable for download on the wold wide web. I am so glad now that I did this.
Coming from an avowed liberal peacenik this might seem odd, but I am very gratified and proud that dad will be buried with military honors, which includes a color guard, flag-draped coffin, taps, and, I believe, even a five-gun salute. He did not ask to be drafted into the service fresh out of high school, torn away from a budding baseball career and plans for college, and forced to move with his young wife and newborn daughter to a one-bedroom apartment just outside Fort Benning, GA. But he served wtih honor, and it was something that he appreciated more and more, the older he got. It's that part of the visitation/service/internment that will be hardest for me - the part with the formal military send-off; but something that's going to about the most likely piece of this experience to be able to push my psyche into processing it all a little bit. I'm certainly not there yet.
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2 comments:
It is a fascinating tale of two lives, where we really only got to see act two.
I'm glad you had the chance to both experience your father as an adult (you the adult) and to see the softer side of his grandfatherdom. I think it helps to round out the tale and puts things into a bit better perspective.
There's no getting around the emotional impact, and certainly over the next few days it will have many chances to reveal itself, but will come back at many future, and likely unexpected times. Almost universally, I think you'll find something to savor in those moments, no matter how melancholy.
And ruining the moment...
unikable:
1) a poorly maintained trail in Britain.
2) a foot too misshapen for athletic footwear.
Thanks, man. Wise words from your experience. And - since you said this in the way you did - allow me to epress my sorrow that your father did not live to see you grow into the admirable man you have become. My hope is t we're way off from what we've long suspected and, in fact, he is able to "look down," as it were, and smile upon you.
nosit: An annoying little furry pet; perhaps a new nemesis of Garfield.
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