Travel Blog

Today marks 40 years since my father left his earthly existence. I was only 8 years old; he was 41.

40 years without his physical presence. It seems almost impossible.

It’s funny what I remember and don’t remember.

I don’t recall his voice, but I remember his resounding laugh, echoed in my brother Matt.

I recall his sweet, melodic singing, carried on in his granddaughter (my niece) Caitlyn.

More than anything, during the brief years I had with him, I remember his love, humor, and playfulness.

As a toddler, I was a total mama’s girl. Of course, Dad didn’t like Mom getting all the adoration. He tried to win me over, hugging me before my siblings. Still, I acted like I didn’t like it. One day, however, he embraced Kelley and Jeff, my older siblings, before me. 

I was not pleased with this change.

I walked up to him and yelled, “Me first!” 

“So now you want your daddy,” he said, laughing. 

From then on, he was sure to hug me ahead of my siblings. Each time, I said, “Me first!” and he chuckled.

He was also “the worst babysitter in the world,” according to my mother. When I was about four, Mom let Dad “watch” me by himself. While Dad read his newspaper only a few feet away from me, I unwrapped every present under the Christmas tree! Mom came home to find shredded wrapping paper strewn all over the living room and me playing with an Oscar the Grouch doll that was intended for my cousin Bridget. 

“What are you doing?” Mom exclaimed to my dad.

“Huh?” Dad looked up from his newspaper.

“Look at this!” she yelled, pointing to the mayhem.

It might as well have been Christmas morning. He was just as surprised as her to see all the presents unwrapped. I, on the other hand, was jubilant. It was like having Christmas early! I was not happy, however, when Mom made me give Oscar back. 

“The worst babysitter in the world” also let my siblings and me run loose at his oil leases in the remote, rural areas of Oklahoma and Kansas while he worked on the wells. I often explored the region around the oil fields, which were engulfed in the mingling pungency of wild grasses, mossy trees, dusty air, and unrefined petroleum.

One time, I scaled a rugged sandstone bluff, plying my tiny fingers into the crevices, eager to view what was at the top. To my seven-year-old self, the cliff was colossal, but probably not as massive as I recall.

When I reached the crest, I was delighted to find a fossil near an overhanging tree and showed Dad my serendipitous discovery. If Mom had been there, I doubt she would have allowed me to embark on my mini adventure. When she came with us to the oil lease later, she was horrified when she witnessed everything Dad let us do!

Not that my older siblings were any better. When I was about six, Mom and Dad went out and left Jeff and Kelley to watch me and Matt. Since Dad was also a computer programmer, we were one of the few households circa 1980 that had a computer.

Jeff told me that Matt typed “Fuck Kelley” on the computer screen. I was a formidable tattletale at the time and, of course, had to report this indiscretion to my parents. I wrote a note to my mother and taped it to the front door for her to view when she and Dad returned home. In my rudimentary writing, it said:

Dear Mom,
Matt wrote “Fuck Kelley” on the computer and sticked up his middle finger.
Love, Hollie

When my parents saw it later that night, they about died laughing. Matt couldn’t write, so they knew it must have been Jeff. My dad thought the note was so funny that he carried it with him from then on. It was even in his wallet the day he died.

Now that was a proud dad!

Growing up in a household with four kids, I enjoyed time together as a family, but I also loved the few times I got to spend with Dad alone.

One Saturday evening, when I was about seven, my family was about to leave for church. My dad, on the other hand, said he needed to go to Walmart. I asked if I could go with him. Walmart had just opened in Pawhuska and was a wonderland of shiny objects to me. As we passed by the glitzy jewelry section, the watches caught my eye. 

“Daddy, can I get a watch?” I asked him. 

“Yeah, we can look at these,” he said, pointing to some plastic toy watches.

I wanted no such thing. I had my eye on one of the fancy metal watches enclosed under the glass. 

“I want one of the pretty ones,” I told him.

I picked out one that cost about $25, which he agreed to buy for me.

My first watch! I felt so grown-up! 

I was proud a few months later when I got to wear it to a Daddy-Daughter dinner at one of the churches in town. Dad wore his signature banker’s suit, and I wore a dress, which was uncharacteristic of my tomboy self.

At my request, Mom prepared my favorite meal, Chef Boyardee lasagna. Dad and I were the only ones who brought lasagna, and I relished he and I sharing one of my favorite meals.

Chef Boyardee does not make that lasagna kit anymore, but I can still savor it in my memory.  The watch also ceased working long ago, its gold plating having worn off. I will always cherish it.

As I look back, I had no idea how precious those moments would become.

Losing my dad so young was heartbreaking, but he left me with so much love.

We don’t know how long our loved ones will be with us. Sometimes they can leave us in a flash of lightening like my dad did.

Tell your people you love them often and don’t take their lives or your life for granted.