Day 3: Daddy Never Drank on Sunday…
This may seem like an unusual title for a story, but it goes back to a powerful memory in my life. Daddy (the deeply southern term for Father…never Dad, sometimes in wealthier families the term was Father, but for the most part it was always Mama and Daddy…at least that’s what I remember) anyway, I can’t remember when Daddy started drinking a lot. Maybe he always did, but from the time I was about 6 until he left when I was 16, I always remember beer being a nightly thing.
The standard was Pabst Blue Ribbon, a cheap brand at the time. I later heard the joke that someone sent a sample of Pabst Blue Ribbon to a Vet and the report came back “Your horse has diabetes” in other words Pabst was referred to as “horse piss”.
Anyway, that’s what he drank regularly, at the end at least a 6-pack a night, EXCEPT on Sunday. Maybe it was because of the “Blue Law”. If you haven’t heard of it, here is a little history… In 1875, Greenville’s (South Carolina) City Council passed its first “blue ordinance.” It forbade merchants, shopkeepers, vendors, barrooms, saloons and barbers from operating on the Lord’s Day as well as the “sale, gift or barter of spirituous or malt liquors, wine or cider.” The point being, Daddy couldn’t buy beer on Sunday, but knowing that, he obviously could have picked up extra on Saturday, he wasn’t a stupid man however he didn’t.
For me, my sister and Mama, that meant a day of peace. No fighting, no walking on eggs, no trouble. He was quiet and kept to himself. In the summer we would go to the beach, and sometimes at night we even played board games together. It was a different world for sure.
Maybe it was because his Daddy was a Methodist Preacher and Grandmama was a
teetotaler, as they say. But for whatever reason, he did not drink, and we were too young to ask why…just thankful that he didn’t.
My Daddy was a contradiction in terms for all the time I knew him, always going against the traditional values and ways, but usually whatever he did was self-serving. At the time I had no idea what a Narcissist was, maybe the term hadn’t even been invented, but he was the poster child for sure. As they used to say, look it up in the dictionary and you will find his picture beside the word. Since no one even uses dictionaries anymore, that statement might not mean much, but hopefully you get the picture.
The 50’s and 60’s when my sister and I grew up were not “nurturing” times for children. You were to be seen and not heard…as they say. So, Debby, my sister, and I did the best we could and got most, if not all of our love and approval from Mama.
I tried to do it differently with my kids, as most parents try to do, but I think my boys do an even better job than I did. When they come home from work, at some point there is bath time, story time and bedtime…and I couldn’t be prouder of them for investing their lives into their little ones.
One of the reasons I wrote “Stories for Joshua” was to show how a loving relationship with parents, grandparents and the little ones can be so enriching and profitable to everyone. Maybe it’s something I deeply desired and I wanted to write about it so others might enjoy the experience. I put the picture of the Water Lilies on my Koi Pond today to show how if you nurture our children their lives will bloom. If you want to see what I mean, check out the sample on the Home page. Enjoy your day and I’ll talk to you tomorrow.
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