Memory Monday, About Dad....

Today's Memory Monday topic is DAD.  Join this Meme at Retired Not Tired's blog HERE.

My dad, Orlyn Albert Kelly, was born on November 3, 1926, to Leota Eldora (Swiss) Kelly and Ora Wilbur Kelly. He was the youngest of three children.  The picture below is of the farm where my dad was raised, but off to the left is a smaller farm house, and that is where they lived when Dad was born. My grandparents lived/worked on this farm until I was five or six.  I have very distinct memories of the outhouse, the chicken coop, the water trough, Granny's kitchen, and what seemed like a huge house.

My dad had memories of being so cold in the winter, that water left in a glass, on his bedside table, would have a film of ice on it in the morning.  He talked of huge fluffy feather beds - one on the bottom and one to cover up with - in the winters, to stay warm in bed, in the upstairs bedrooms.

 Dad, on the left, with his cousins.

Dad, on the left again, next to his brother, Bill, sister, Phyllis, and their folks.

My dad quit high school his senior year, to join the army. It was right at the end of WWII. Before he was finished with basic training, the war was over.  He was honorably discharged, but he never went back to school to get his diploma.  Instead, he started working and eventually was hired as a civilian worker in the United States Air Force. When I was born, he worked in Dayton, Ohio, at Wright Patterson Air Force Base.  Later, when I was 10 years old, he was transferred to Newark (Ohio) Air Force Base, and he was there until he retired, at age 55.  Retirement was an option, then, when you turned 55 and had 30 years of service.

Dad's senior picture, though he didn't graduate.

Mom and Dad met through my Uncle Bill, who worked with my mom. I wrote about that in last week's post about my mom.  She wanted to go up in an airplane. My dad flew single engine planes, so Uncle Bill set them up.  Five months later, they were married, in October 1949!  Two years after that, I was born, the first of four children.

My dad really didn't like his job, but he went to work every day so he could provide for his family.  He worked in the warehouse area, was a supervisor, and made it to a GS-11 (without a HS diploma!).  He enjoyed his hobbies, though, and raised a giant garden every summer. He was a really good handyman and could build things and fix small motors. He is the reason I can put oil in my car, change a tire, take an appliance apart and put it back together (though I can't always fix what is wrong, and he nearly always could). Dad was a hunter. His hunting guns hung on the wall in the stairway.  Having guns in the house was never a 'problem' back then, We knew to respect them, and we knew what they were there for (and what they could do). Dad was a fisherman. He loved being in a boat, out on the water, and loved to drop his line. Our summer vacations were always at a fishing camp up in Canada (I've posted about that before, too).

Dad built a pontoon boat, in our backyard, and we spent many wonderful summer weekends out on that boat, first on Rocky Fork Lake, and later on Buckeye Lake. I've written about that before, too, but have to mention it in this memory about my dad, since it played such a big part in his life, and ours!

Dad loved fried chicken, and there was never a hot pepper he couldn't eat. He was a good cook, and gave Mom a break on Sunday mornings with his specialty - pancakes. He loved cheese. He would snack on crackers and milk (or bread and milk). He took his lunch to work everyday, and often it included a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.  He loved us and was proud of us kids, and of our accomplishments. He encouraged us in anything we wanted to try. He was at every football game to watch me march in the band. He worked in concessions stands, to 'earn' money for band trips and class trips. He welcomed our friends into our house and at our table. Many of my friends called my folks mom and dad.  (Same for my siblings and their friends.)

When dad retired, he and mom sold 'our' house and moved into a mobile home, in a nice community where other friends had retired. They were also, then, able to buy a mobile home down here in Florida, and they became snowbirds!!  Six months in Leesburg, Florida, and six months in Thornville, Ohio.  Joe and I moved to Florida, in part to be closer to my parents (and grandparents, actually) for six months each year.  Dad never got to see our home in Lakeland. We moved in July 1989, and Dad died in December 1989.

My dad, in his boat on Little Lake Harris, in Lake County, Florida.

He was in "heaven" when he was on the water.

Mom and Dad, posing for their 40th Wedding Anniversary photo.

This was in October 1989. Dad was gone in December 1989.

Dad was a smoker most of his life. He was diagnosed with lung cancer, and a couple of years later, it had gone to his brain.  My brother called me to tell me I should get to Ohio, if I wanted to see dad again. He was in the hospital, in palliative care. I spent my birthday that year, flying alone to Ohio, to get to the hospital.  I think I knew he was waiting for me to get there. When I arrived at his bedside, he smiled and told me this was a heck of a way to spend my birthday. He knew what day it was. He waited until the next morning to leave this world. I am so thankful that I was there, with my mom, brother and sisters, to see him cross over.  (Joe flew up a day later.)  Dad was only 63. My age now.  I miss him every day.

I thank you for reading about my dad!!  These Memory Mondays are very special, and I look forward to reading others' today!!  Happy December!!  It's here already!  Peace & blessings.