On Father’s Day, on Memorial Day, on Christmas Day and New Years Day,
I remember you. A man who taught his seven-year old daughter how to read The Constellations and how to follow the stars through the telescope you gave me for Christmas. Since you were the navigator in WWII, you knew all about the heavens. But, why couldn’t you read a road map? Just kidding, you did very well, as you drove us on many vacations in our Impale on hot nights in the summer back in the 1950’s and sixties. Daddy insisted we travel at night. Always, I cringed every time the car hit an innocent animal while traveling at night. Hmm…I’m more of an empath now, but that’s another story about animals seen dead on our highways. Now, I’m phobic about traveling at night. LOL, not blaming you, nor making this about me, I’m just saying for every action there is an equal reaction. You taught very well, except algebra, though later, I did understand and did learn under the guidance of a concerned professor. She said, “Do you know that you reverse your bases and exponents? I want you to be tested for dyslexia.”
Back to your story, and, speaking of Christmas, thanks for The skyscraper toy with the working elevator, I loved putting my plastic farm animals in it to ride from the bottom floor all the way to the top fourth floor. I enjoyed it and wondered then why you gave it to me, but now, I know why. Thank you.
And, every football fall, the TV tuned into the real football seasons. When they played in freezing winter’s outside or in the hot scorching sun, that was real football.
You always took over our one TV, which by the way, was a color TV. The first one we owned. You built it. I’ll never forget what a Diode is, after you explained it to me many times. Then, you built a 25 inch television for my first wedding present. John 1950’s or 1960’s. You confided in me at around 7-9 years old, because you were visited by the government, “The Men in Black,” back in those days. You were afraid of “The Project Blue Book,” men, yet, you were not a paranoid man by nature. But, you told me because you thought a child would not understand. You gave me a stone that was not from our Earth. I played with it for years. It is now gone and it has been gone since you died. I wish I could find the stone. It was the greatest treasure, I’ve ever received. Maybe one day, it will return to me…
I love you daddy. Even though, your departing Earth was a bitter moment for us, both, I understand your disappointments in me… You had more to teach me, and I wasn’t listening. I was too interested in other things, boys, family, children and god, and other distractions.You wanted me to be an engineer and I married instead, more than once.
You wanted to teach me beyond my wildest dreams. However, I want you to know daddy, I’m studying, listening, hearing all the things you thought that I, should know and, best of all, I understand. I’m doing it alone and I do wish you were here. By the way, I have practiced some algebra equations in your memory. “What in the Sam Hill is going on?”
You know, I feel you sometimes. I since your presence. So often, you lead me. After all, I asked you to help me with the dryer the other night, and you did…
Thank you. I know when I need something fixed, I can count on you, if I listen, I will hear your instructions…. So, I did just as you instructed me, I kick the front of any broken machine, except my Apple computer, real hard and cursed at it just the way you did. “That dad-burn, so n so…” And, sometimes, it works! Thanks!
I love you daddy. We will meet again and share a bottle of wine together… Can’t wait, I hope it’s not pink Ripple.
Until we meet again…. Love you.
2 thoughts on “My Father Emmett “Jim” Jennings”
I adored your daddy!
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He was one of a kind!