This is an article I wish I didn't have to write. Goddess knows, I really didn't want to.
It is with great heaviness of heart that I announce the passing of my daddy.
Daddy had a dry sense of humor, and never failed to crack a joke whenever possible. He also was always very involved with us musically, supporting my sisters
and I through Drum Corps, various choirs, marching bands, concert bands, vocal ensembles and so forth.
He was born October 30, 1931, and died August 21, 2008. He served in the U.S. Navy, rising to the rank of Lt. Commander prior to his honorable discharge and
after his discharge he worked for 30 years as an electrical engineer. He held four earned and one honorary doctorates, three masters degrees, five bachelors degrees,
and an associates degree (and those were just the ones we found). Daddy was no dummy!
Some knew him as Lt. Commander. He was a man used to following orders when he was given them, and was equally used to having orders followed when he gave
them. He loved and served his country, and believed in duty, honor, and country. He also believed in doing the right thing simply because it was the right thing to do.
He instilled those beliefs in all he worked with.
Others knew him as Doctor. He never flaunted his education; instead, he used it for the betterment of many people. His mind helped a number of people deal with
engineering issues that would have sent others scrambling for slide rules and computers. He more often than not did it in his head. There are numerous stories of
engineering projects that he got called in on, from North Carolina to Hawai'i, and all over the west coast.
He received his Ph.D in 1964. He was also a school teacher, studied law and letters, international relations, as well as engineering.
Those that knew him a little better called him Doc. These were the ones that discovered his wicked, dry sense of humor. Limericks, puns, and shaggy dog stories
were often told, much to his amusement. I can say that he loved a good joke or quip. He truly loved a good laugh, and always seemed to have something to fit the
bill...or the miles.
I told him just after my hours got cut that I was following the family tradition. While The Momma was out sick, and then taking care of her mother's estate, daddy
filled in on The Momma's route. I told him that since he had been an Avon lady...I had no issue becoming a Kelly girl. He laughed, not knowing that I am transsexual.
(It was better that way, in a sense.)
These were also the people that discovered that he had a large heart, probably too big at times, but always well meaning. He stood for treating everyone fairly, and
respecting them not just to be respectful, but respecting them for who they were and what they believed in. I really don't think he'd have had too much trouble knowing
that his only son was really his third daughter. He'd have gotten the facts, and while he might not have liked it, would have respected my decision and wishes.
Some called him brother, cousin, uncle, or granddad. Mom was lucky to call him her husband. There are about two hundred or so band, choir, and drum corps folks
who called him dad. I was one of three that was lucky, because he really was-and forever will be-my daddy.
Daddy had a number of other interests. Computers and electrical gadgets and widgets were always being built, taken apart, improved, and rebuilt. He impressed upon
us kids the importance of finding something we liked, and following it. Judo, Drum Corps, dance, Barbershop and other forms of singing and music, photography,
recording, gadgets and widgets, and even flying. Daddy really was a renaissance man.
Daddy also firmly believed in education. That's why all of us went to college. Even The Momma went on to school; and while they worked in tandem on education,
daddy also took interest and pushed us to go on for as much education as we could get. I know he ran interference for me at least twice in high school!
He loved a good meal. He loved to grill a good steak, and did so when he could. And if the grill didn't work, he'd fire up his trusty Bernzomatic blowtorch. Oh, yes-he
also loved tools, and had a shop full of them.
My daddy wasn't perfect. Far from it. He didn't like to have his time wasted on useless things, worthless meetings, and the like. He once ran an unnecessary meeting
and completed it in less than ten minutes, my senior year of high school. I brought him dinner that night, I was there for it and saw the whole thing such as it was. He
also did not suffer fools gladly. I won't go into that at all.
He was, however, a man of few words. I suspect he didn't know just how much he was loved.
Daddy loved to travel. Places I know he went all over the world (outside of much of the United States, and some of these places he was stationed at) were places like
Newfoundland, Scotland, England and Wales, Ireland, Taiwan, Guam, Canada, and Japan. And yet, as much as he loved to travel, he also loved coming home and
resting in his comfy recliner after a good meal.
It was the trip to Japan that inspired me to study, informally, much of the Japanese culture-especially the popular culture-over much of my life, a study that continues
to this day, and has influenced who I have become.
It is with this in mind, that I say this: Sayonara, Papa-sama. Yo no nokori, nazenara anata ha anata no heiwa o e ta.
(Farewell, honored father. Rest well, for you have earned your peace.)
