in honor of my father…
he passed away years ago from the deadly combination that takes away many of our black men…heart attack & stroke. my daddy lived the last 11 years of his life on dialysis. his kidneys were damaged by medication. however he never really complained. every monday, wednesday and friday, he was driven to the dialysis unit where they
cared for him until his passing.
before my father was sick, he was a teacher of mississippi history and civics. he taught for 27 years before he retired. shortly after retirement, he suffered his second stroke which distorted his speech and altered his memory at times. i found that quite ironic….a man who devoted his life to speaking and giving through his voice had it somewhat taken away from him. those around him knew exactly what he meant, but to strangers it sounded very foreign. but he never let their misunderstandings deter him from getting his message across.
still could direct you how to make his pies. daddy also was gifted with a green thumb which i believe has passed me by. he could grow anything from a house plant to a garden full of food. he had it.
daddy also taught me what i should look for in a man. while my parents were married, their shared household duties with one exception. since he was a teacher, he arrived home first. my daddy did a majority of the cooking, which my mom loved. there wasn’t a division of husband/wife roles in my home growing up. i remember them working together to accomplish whatever needed to be done. in the summers off, he did everything from delivering telephone books, mowing lawns at cemeteries and delivering avon. that’s what i call a work ethic.
