There is a difference
between a biography and a memoir. A
biography is usually written in chronological order and includes all of the
facts of a person’s life. A Memoir is also
a type of biography but it may or may not be always in chronological order and
the stories may or may not relate to each other. Today, in honor of Father’s Day, I would like
to share with you some of the memories I have of my father, Tom Smith.
My first memories of
Dad were when we lived in Alameda, CA near the naval base there. I did not know what he did for a living other
than being a “sailor”. I was only seven
years old but I remember one thing we did every weekend as a family was to work
on a wooden motor boat. Dad applied the
coatings of fiberglass and we all sanded it to make it smooth. I mostly remember how the fiberglass made me
itch. We finally finished the boat and
we went for a ride out on the Bay. I
loved the salty spray of the water in my face and the splashing ride as we hit
the small waves in the Bay that day. As
I enjoyed this and I distinctly remember Dad at the helm, taking us this way
and that and purposely hitting waves for the fun of it…amazing because he
almost always got “sea-sick” while out on any water so I know he must have
taken Dramamine before going out. The
irony was that this was the only time we took the boat out because Dad received
orders to go to Scotland to serve at a naval base there. We sadly sold the boat…and then one week
before we were to leave they changed Dad’s orders and we went to Spain instead.
Dad was stationed in
Rota, Spain when I was about nine years old and Mom took my brother, Bob, and I
with her to watch Dad during a military parade and medal pinning ceremony (my
sister Melanie was not born yet and came along about a year later). It was summer time and Dad was in his “dress
whites”. I was awe-struck to watch all
these men in their “dress whites” marching before us then standing at attention
beside where we were sitting while the medals were given out. Ever since that day I have loved seeing men
in Navy uniforms (and other military uniforms for that matter). This was one of my earliest recollections of
Dad. I have always thought he looked
quite handsome in either his winter “dress blues” or summer “dress whites”. The wonderful thing about Dad is that he was
always able to get his uniform on, even this year at 87 years old. I had the privilege to see him in his “dress
blues” with all his medals at a VFW memorial service the Saturday before
Memorial Day. He filled out his uniform
perfectly. It thrilled my heart to see
him in his “dress blues” that day.
I am not sure how it
works in your family, for families have different practices regarding adult
children living with their parents but in our family, whenever we were out of
work or between jobs we could go back home and live for a few months until we
got a new job. I remember one of those
times where I was staying with Mom and Dad while looking for work and one thing
that impressed me was I would awake to the smell of coffee brewing around 5 am. I am not a coffee drinker but I sure love the
smell. I would look out from the room I
stayed in and could see Dad at his desk reading, studying, making notes and
drinking his coffee. He was reading and
studying his Bible every morning. I
loved seeing him do this and as he did I saw changes in his life, the way he
worked with others, and worked with the family.
I saw him growing in the Lord and becoming very familiar with the Word
of God, so much so he could quote chapter and verse of something he read that
would speak into the situation you shared with him. Earlier this year he asked me if I would like
to have his notes. Awesome! I now have all his spiral notebooks of his
studies and comments of the word. I essentially
have a commentary written by my Dad. Is
it any wonder that I love the smell of coffee to this day?
Dad’s “forte” was his
ability to cook for large groups of people.
This is what he did as a sailor in the navy, but it was not the only
thing he did. He shared this story with
me which amuses me to this day. During
the Vietnam conflict Dad served on a destroyer. Most sailors had two jobs on the destroyer. Dad and a mate of his worked in the “mess”
(kitchen/eating hall) and they also shared duty on, as Dad put it, the “big
guns”. He and his mate had just put 12
hours duty on the big guns and headed for their bunks to get some much needed
rest before their next shift in the “mess” serving breakfast. Since it was evening the lighting in the room
with their bunks was set low for people to sleep. They sacked out and started sleeping soundly
for a while. Finally Dad awoke to see
the lights on in the bunk room and no one in their bunks. “Oh no, we’ve overslept! We've missed getting breakfast ready!” He quickly woke his mate and they hastily
dressed and headed for the mess. When
they got there it was all dark and no one was around. That is when his mate noticed that it was
only 10 pm. I asked Dad what his mate
had to say and he told me he said, “a few choice words,” as they headed back to
their bunks. Everyone in the bunk room
had headed to a movie being shown in the Rec. Room and someone had left the bunk room
lights on.
Even after serving 22
years in the Navy Dad kept serving and giving in everything he did. I often watched him do large fundraising
dinners for the Round Mountain/Montgomery Creek Community Hall, the VFW post he
belonged to, the Up Country Seniors, his Church, and whoever had a need. I know he will be sorely missed. I miss him deeply, that is for sure.
