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| Our Last Family Photo: At My Cousin Sara's Wedding 08/16/2003 (The date stamp was one day off) Noerenberg Gardens: Wayzata, Minnesota |
Nine years ago today, on 12/18/2003, my father, William J. Morse, passed away at home after a brief battle with cancer. The interval between his last day of work and his last day of life was a short twenty-eight days. He was 58 years old.
My Dad was a great many things -
...A veteran of the United States Army, he served in Germany during the Vietnam War era. Because it was not a particularly pleasant experience for him, we rarely talked about his service, or the fact that he was quite fortunate not to see armed combat. It was not until I contacted the Army after my Dad's passing to obtain a flag for his coffin that I learned of his training as a sharpshooter.
...An employee of the same company for forty years (receiving credit for his service in the Armed Forces). Shortly before his death, he held the honor of being the most senior individual (by length of employment) on staff. He worked at Waterous Company (a one-time division of American Hoist and Derrick and currently of American Cast Iron Pipe Company), an industry leader in the manufacturing of fire-fighting equipment. Photos of belt buckles representing the company are shown below.
...A husband of 34 years, two months, and 29 days. My parents met at the aforementioned Waterous Company in 1967 and married in 1969.
...A father of two, myself and my younger sister Kimberly.
...A son, brother to two brothers and two sisters, grandfather, father-in-law, uncle, cousin, nephew, and friend.
...and so much more. He was by no means Saint William, and I would be lying if I suggested that we always saw eye-to-eye, but he set such a firm example for my sister and myself as to how we should treat people. We were not the sort for speedboats and trips to Disney World, but my sister and I received a private Catholic education from kindergarten through the twelfth grade, went on family vacations every year, and never wanted for anything.
A Belt Buckle from Waterous Company
http://www.waterousco.com/
My Dad was also more than a laundry list, so I would like to share just a few short stories about him. Every once in a while, if everyone was engrossed in something - newspaper, book, et cetera - my Dad would just start singing at the top of his lungs all of a sudden. There is a Christmas song called "Bring a Torch, Jeanette Isabella," but his special take on it was "BRING hot porridge to Christians a-bella!" This would invariably scare the (bejeepers) out of everyone, and then send us into fits of laughter. He had other sayings, and my sister has carried some of those on more so than I have.
From what I gather, he was a bit of a hellion in his youth, going through the caves along the Mississippi River in Saint Paul, and one time finding refuge on a small side platform on a railroad bridge as a train crossed the river. The train scene in 1986's Stand by Me had particular relevance to him.
Another Belt Buckle from
Waterous Company
http://www.american-usa.com/...
One of the last memories that I have of my Dad being remotely healthy was on Thanksgiving. It was painful for him to wear pants, as they put pressure on his stomach. On the evening before, I was at my Mom and Dad's apartment, and just before I left, I asked him "Are you going to need pants for tomorrow?" His deadpan reply was "That's a strange question." After explaining that I meant more comfortable pants, of course, he declined and said that he would be okay. We had a beautiful dinner at Rudy's Redeye Grill in White Bear Lake. After that, it was a series of hospital visits and stays, and then realizations....
I either never knew or simply choose not to remember the details, but at some point, it became clear that his days were numbered, and the decision was made for him to return home. We were told that the ambulance ride alone could very possibly kill him, but thankfully, it did not. That evening, with my aunts and uncles present, it was though we were privy to a private audience with a master storyteller and humorist. As the evening wore on though, my Dad started to tire, and he said that he needed to rest.
He never awoke.
On the afternoon of Thursday, December 18, my aunts and uncles, my sister and my brother-in-law, and I went out to lunch at Decoy's, a two-block walk from my parents' apartment home. When we returned, we learned that my Dad had passed during our absence.
On Monday, December 22, 2003, we had a celebration of his life.
I miss him more than I could possibly say.
My Dad was a great many things -
...A veteran of the United States Army, he served in Germany during the Vietnam War era. Because it was not a particularly pleasant experience for him, we rarely talked about his service, or the fact that he was quite fortunate not to see armed combat. It was not until I contacted the Army after my Dad's passing to obtain a flag for his coffin that I learned of his training as a sharpshooter.
...An employee of the same company for forty years (receiving credit for his service in the Armed Forces). Shortly before his death, he held the honor of being the most senior individual (by length of employment) on staff. He worked at Waterous Company (a one-time division of American Hoist and Derrick and currently of American Cast Iron Pipe Company), an industry leader in the manufacturing of fire-fighting equipment. Photos of belt buckles representing the company are shown below.
...A husband of 34 years, two months, and 29 days. My parents met at the aforementioned Waterous Company in 1967 and married in 1969.
...A father of two, myself and my younger sister Kimberly.
...A son, brother to two brothers and two sisters, grandfather, father-in-law, uncle, cousin, nephew, and friend.
...and so much more. He was by no means Saint William, and I would be lying if I suggested that we always saw eye-to-eye, but he set such a firm example for my sister and myself as to how we should treat people. We were not the sort for speedboats and trips to Disney World, but my sister and I received a private Catholic education from kindergarten through the twelfth grade, went on family vacations every year, and never wanted for anything.
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| A Belt Buckle from Waterous Company http://www.waterousco.com/ |
From what I gather, he was a bit of a hellion in his youth, going through the caves along the Mississippi River in Saint Paul, and one time finding refuge on a small side platform on a railroad bridge as a train crossed the river. The train scene in 1986's Stand by Me had particular relevance to him.
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| Another Belt Buckle from Waterous Company http://www.american-usa.com/... |
I either never knew or simply choose not to remember the details, but at some point, it became clear that his days were numbered, and the decision was made for him to return home. We were told that the ambulance ride alone could very possibly kill him, but thankfully, it did not. That evening, with my aunts and uncles present, it was though we were privy to a private audience with a master storyteller and humorist. As the evening wore on though, my Dad started to tire, and he said that he needed to rest.
He never awoke.
On the afternoon of Thursday, December 18, my aunts and uncles, my sister and my brother-in-law, and I went out to lunch at Decoy's, a two-block walk from my parents' apartment home. When we returned, we learned that my Dad had passed during our absence.
On Monday, December 22, 2003, we had a celebration of his life.
I miss him more than I could possibly say.
I miss him more than I could possibly say.
OH my dear Matthew (((((((((((((Matthew)))))))))))))) Your father's wonderful spirit lives on in you,.... You have even passed on some of that quick unexpected humor and joy with the "BRING hot porridge to Christians a-bella" and I sing it EVERY MORNING as I prepare my oatmeal and fruit. Thank you so much for this beautiful memorial to him and for turning his counsel and guidance into such a beautiful, admirable beacon to mankind within your own being. Thank you, my friend.
ReplyDeleteMermaid Morrigan: Your comments, and your adopting my Dad's practice of singing the song in that unique way, are so wonderful. All of the wordsmithing in the world could not communicate how much I appreciate it or how much I love and respect you, so let me simply say "Thank you."
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