Saturday, February 5, 2011

Lloyd C. Morrison (Mo) 1924 - 2011

My Dad died last night after 86 jam-packed years of loving family, doing his duty, and being a swell guy for all who knew him.

I wrote this post a couple years back on his birthday and I thought I'd repost it.

Dad, it is raining but no thunder and lightening. I like thunder and lightening and I like it because of you and this memory:

We are in the station wagon having been bundled out of the tent trailer at sometime in the night. We are camping at Colorado Campground and it is a wild storm - with forks of lightening and booming thunder. You are inciting our curiosity and quelling our fears by telling us how lightening and thunder works. We carefully count out the seconds between the flash and the boom, translating it into distance. It is odd and nice to be in the unmoving car in our pj's in the middle of the night.


Most of the time when I think of you in conjunction with the past it has to do with a trip - I suppose that is because when we were home you were pretty busy doing your job.



When we went on trips we always seemed to stop at this thing I didn't get and still don't - The Continental Divide!


We must have crossed that sucker untold times



with all of us being forced out of the back of the station wagon where we were happily reading Little Lulu comics (or later - Romance comics!) to have a picture taken beside a sign that told of this wonder. But there was nothing to look at but the sign. You'd tell us that if we spilled water it would flow in two directions. Big whup I'd think. So I guess all your efforts to enlighten us didn't work. I'm not sure of Jude and Don though. Maybe they are big Continental Divide enthusiasts!


Dad advice on travel: 'you don't know what might be important later' And 'if you've seen one Grand Canyon you've seen them all!'
Dad advice on doing a job: When the going gets tough the tough get going! Or A job worth doing is a job worth doing well.

Here you are riding with me in the bluffs, Colo. Spgs. I'm on Peg and you're on a mean horse (note ears) whose name I don't remember. You gave me lots of strokes because you told me that I 'sat a horse properly'.



Posture advice to a very tall teen girl: stand tall,sit tall - be proud!


Later on when I was a troubled teen (was I? troubled that is?) you were very kind to me and allowed me to be a unique dingbat. You talked to me in the middle of the night after I and my pals had a big facination with ouiji boards and I was sure there was a ghost in my room. I did too because it knocked over the lampshade remember? Also you put up with me making you put your ear to the window to hear the people trapped in the glass...


You called my (very few) boyfriends 'cowboys' which was just right and you would yell down into the rec room at the appropriate time - 'everyone out of the pool'. But you wouldn't just barge down like some dads might.


here you are hanging with the boys in the lake...



If you'd been away for awhile you'd take me all by myself for a root beer float. And when I passed math at summer school or any of the other stooooopid courses I had to take you'd give me a pound of butter for my use only. Years later when you came to Nova Scotia for my university graduation you brought me another pound of butter. So perfect.


Here you are with your glorious garden! Garden advice: start with a small garden so you don't get overwhelmed and plant the right things with the right things.
I write so you'll be proud of me and I remember this Writing advice: apply my bottom to the seat of the chair.


You have been a creative inspiration to me - you made everything a game whether it was choosing a new house, or making yourself ride your stationary bike by riding around the world several times. You made me realize that it is important to work hard and to make it fun both. I love how you are a writer and a painter and an inventive game player. I get a thrill whenever I get a notice from the gaming commission even when I'm in the red with the gang!


You never told me that I couldn't do anything I put my mind to. You never told me that girls couldn't do this or that. You always let me know that however hairbrained my ideas might be that you'd back me up, take my side or stand ready to pickup the pieces.

You are a great dad and I'm the luckiest kid in the world to have you for my father.

Have a good day and stay away from the continental divide. If you fall down we won't know in which direction you rolled to!

11 comments:

grrl+dog said...
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Liz in PA said...
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Robyn said...
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Mary Vaughn said...

Jan, I am sorry for your loss. Remember the memories and his spirit will be with you for as long as you allow.

Hart Johnson said...

Jan, I'm so sorry to hear about your dad. I am sending huge hugs. I'm glad he had such a wonderful, full life, but I know it is still hard to say good-bye. This was a beautiful tribute.

Glynis Jolly said...

I am sorry to hear about your loss. You have some wonderful memories of your dad.

Carol Kilgore said...

Jan, this is beautiful. You dad has a wonderful spirit and he'll always be there for you. Still.

RosieC said...

Jan, it sounds like your father was a wonderful man. You are lucky to have celebrated so many great years with him. I'm thinking about you and your family now and will continue to do so over the next few weeks, as these are the hardest times. But you are strong and wonderful, just as he surely raised you, and you know you can go forth and continue to live in his footsteps.

Thank you for sharing such wonderful memories of this great man.

Jen Chandler said...

Jan,

I am so sorry for your loss. These are wonderful memories! Keep them close. I hold every memory of my father dear. New ones crop up all the time and I always have a reason to smile when I remember him.

Peace,
Jen

Elizabeth Spann Craig/Riley Adams said...

What a lovely tribute, Jan! I'm so sorry to hear this news.

Faith Pray said...

Oh, Jan! What lovely words, and an outstanding father. Sending you hugs and brave comfort.