Kat's Rambling Mind

Father’s Day is here again, and once again I miss my father . Although we lost him in October, 2021, I still think of him almost daily. I’m certain the rest of our family thinks of him just as often and remembers what a good man we had as a husband to our mother, as a father, and as a grandfather.



Dad, Daddy, Pops, Papaw…we had a lot of nicknames for him, but Pops was my favorite. I can’t quite remember how we got started calling him Pops, but I’m pretty sure my best friend Renee called him that when we were teens and it stuck. We mostly called him Daddy growing up.

Growing up, Daddy was the disciplinarian, and we knew when he was serious. If you kept it up with the bad behavior, there were consequences, so we listened. He had this thing he did to let us know when we were crossing a line–he would snap his fingers and point at us all in one fluid motion–and that was your warning.

But although Dad was somewhat strict, he was also a great big softy when it came down to punishments. More often than not, after his stern admonishments and distribution of punishments, he would end up laughing at whatever hare-brained thing we’d done.



Dad worked at a local bank that at one point in time was the only bank in town. I still have people tell me how much they loved our father, because he gave them their first loan for a car, or a home, or a business. Banking was definitely different in those days, in that you had a personal relationship with your banker, and many a deal was conducted with a signature and a handshake. Of course, some people didn’t like him because of his profession in general–he had to tell some people no–but that’s to be expected in any public job, I suppose.

He once had a disgruntled customer call him a “24 karat gold-plated, rotating S.O.B.!”. Dad said that was the best insult he’d ever heard, and through his laughter asked the woman, “But why rotating?”, to which she replied, “Because no matter which way they turn you, you’re still an S.O.B!”. He loved to tell that story. He clearly had a great sense of humor and a thick skin.

Pops was also a fixture in the community. He was a Mason who earned his 50-year honors, and he became a Shriner as well. He raised money for Scottish Rite hospital, countless community causes, school causes, and church causes. He was an honorable, moral, upstanding man. He instilled values in his children that we’ve carried with us throughout our lives.



Dad (and Mom) also supported us in any endeavor we decided to undertake. He attended ball games, band concerts, and dance recitals proudly. He cheered, he applauded, and he always told us we did well, even when we lost. Especially when we lost or erred or strayed. He saw all three of his kids through the many disappointments of life with a loving hand, and he always told us he was so proud to be our father. Dad didn’t shy away from telling us he loved us, either.

If it sounds like we had amazing childhoods, well, it’s because we did. Our parents were a touchstone, a fixed mark in the universe that we could always return to. I especially gave our Dad (and Mom) some grief in my growing up, but they never once made me feel like I couldn’t come home. And eventually, I did.

Of the three of us siblings, I guess I’m the one who looked the most like Pops. I have his eyes from the Smith side of our family, and once in a while, I still have people in our small town ask, “Are you by chance related to Richard Smith?”, to which I proudly reply, “Just a little bit”. My mother says I’m also like him in that I can be quite the smart ass at times, and I have to admit that all three of his children inherited that gene.



Which brings me to Dad’s sense of humor. He had a great sense of humor, and wasn’t afraid to act silly if he thought it would get a laugh out of us. He loved to laugh, and could find the quirky humor in almost every situation. I’ve had many people tell me that Dad always had a joke or a funny story for them. I think each of his children got a part of his wit, along with his love of laughter.

Dad also had a generosity of spirit that he shared with others. He genuinely cared for others in his community and made efforts to show it. In fact, after his death, our mother told us that someone came to her and said that Dad once heard they were struggling and had no food; she then came home to find that someone had delivered bags and bags of groceries on her front porch. It was Dad. We had no idea at the time, as Dad never said a word about it.



I know that sometimes after death, people tend to idolize and remember only the good things about their loved ones. But out father really never gave us any reason to lose respect for him in any way. He was, quite simply, a great man.

Happy Father’s Day to all the Dads, Daddies, Pops, and Papaws out there. I sure do miss mine.