Take Your Time Going, But Hurry Back
My dad Frank Blackford passed away on May 22nd, at the age of 75. He had stage IV melanoma that had spread to his brain and lungs, and he slipped away quietly at a beautiful little hospice in Paradise, California.
I’ve been meaning to blog about it since it happened, but it took me a while to be ready to scan the pictures I’d stolen from my mom’s photo albums. I keep trying to settle on some phrase or idea that I could say about my dad, how he was when I was growing up, but I only get flashes of things. I think one thing that I remember most is that he trusted in my abilities to help him. I was the one to help him pack up the trailer before our long summer trips, and I got to help guide him while he backed the car up to the hitch and checked to make sure the lights were working. It is the little things like that, they make childhood memorable. I know now how hard it is to let your kids help with stuff, but man, that made me so proud. Here he is, letting O help him baby proof:
He taught me how to fish, how to skewer a worm on a hook. He taught me how to look for satellites sliding through night sky, though he always called them sputniks. I remember sitting on the shore of Jackson Lake in Grand Teton National Park when lighting struck a little too close to home and following him as best I could as we both made a run for it back to the trailer.
I remember watching him play raquetball with his buddies. I remember him bringing home donut holes on Saturday mornings. Churning ice cream on the back porch with our cool old hand crank ice cream maker. Trying to make the plum tree bear fruit by grafting on all sorts of crazy branches. Mowing the lawn every Sunday while I had to go to Sunday School - I always hoped I’d be home in time to sit in the wheelbarrow and hold the trashcan as he went around and swept up the clippings.
He had all these little sayings he’d always throw out, like the one in the title of this post. If you were heading to the restroom he’d say “hope everything comes out okay”. Chilly today, but hot tamale. Bingo bango bongo, I don’t want to leave the Congo, oh me oh my oh. I find myself saying them too.
My dad was a super guy. He had some ideals that weren’t in line with my own, but he never held that against me or anyone, really. He had his opinion, you had yours, and that was okay. He was always there to help anyone. He was just a genuine, happy guy. I miss him something fierce.
Today is our 16th wedding anniversary, and this picture from our wedding day is one of my favorites.
Here is dad on his wedding day. Isn’t he cute?
Here is dad with me when I was about 11 months old. Love the sideburns…
We went down to my mom’s house after he died and I went through a bunch of boxes of my old stuff. I found a program from Medieval Times Dinner and Tournament and nearly wet my pants laughing when I saw this picture in the front. We went for my birthday, why was there a picture of my dad?
O was the ring bearer in his aunt and uncle’s wedding, and I love this picture of the two of them looking dapper before the big event.
This was taken last year. We are going back down to my mom’s house over Father’s Day weekend. My brother and his family will be there, as will my aunt. We are throwing a barbeque for their neighbors, who were a huge help to my mom the last few weeks that dad was with us.
