Saturday, April 18, 2015

Dad

...is celebrating his 21st year in Heaven today. To say I still miss him would be like sharing that the sky is blue.

Marion Walter McCall ("Mac")was a quiet, yet strong presence in our home. Hardworking and so steady. We could set the clock by the time he arrived home from work each and every day. His word was the final say. Mother may have coached him in some of his decisions, but any attempt to change his mind would have been useless, probably because of his strong character and his sense of conviction when it came to the protection and rearing of his four children.

Dad quit school during the depression so he could work to help my grandfather support their family and other relatives who managed to find their way to my grandparents’ tiny home in Oklahoma City.

When WWII broke out, Dad enlisted in the Army. A young husband and father of two would be on a ship, with many other soldiers who left their loved ones behind. While they were en route to Japan, and being chased by a submarine, the war ended. But Dad would still spend 11 months away from home, first in the Philippines where he drove a truck and dodged snipers for three months, then back to Japan for occupational duty guarding prisoners of war put to the task of rebuilding war-torn roads. Those first three months must have seemed like an eternity for him because there were 103 letters waiting for him when he finally reached Japan.

Dad was a self-taught musician. He learned a few chords from his dad and, in the early years of getting to know my mom, he sat on his front porch and played his guitar. Mom sat on her front porch --- next door --- and listened. Guess they were both a little shy. That subtle courtship led to almost 54 years of marriage, four children, nine grandchildren and 18 great-grandchildren.

Music was such a strong connection with Dad. It was so natural to see him sitting in the living room, guitar perched on his knee as he played and either whistled or hummed songs like “Blue Skies,” “Have I Told You Lately That I Love You?” or my favorite, ”Little Coquette.” He loved the more jazzy sounds of “Kansas City Blues” and many others that I never knew had a name.

We have precious few pictures of these moments in time. Photographing him playing the guitar would have been like taking a snapshot of someone brushing his teeth or eating dinner. He made the decision early on to choose family over seeking the world of entertainment, though he surely would have had great success with his talent. Sunday lunch was prepared to the strains of “Amazing Grace,” “Just a Closer Walk” and any other requests spoken by the busy kitchen brigade. Sometimes my sister and I managed to slip away from our assigned jobs and into the living room to sing with him.

The photo below is of the band Dad played with on a local radio show in Oklahoma City. He is standing, second from the left.


His “real” career began as a delivery boy for Veazy’s Drug stores. He delivered prescriptions, first on a bicycle and later on a Harley. That job, briefly interrupted by the war, eventually led to managing shipping and receiving departments for two similar chains. The constant lifting of heavy boxes kept his muscled shoulders strong until they were ravaged by the lung cancer that would end his life three months before his 74th birthday.


Along with music, Dad’s legacy was his faith and love for his family. He was a deacon, Sunday School teacher and, in his later years, a choir member. Mom remained his sweetheart until the day he died. He required very little for himself --- an occasional new guitar, his favorite TV westerns, a couple of Studebakers (and later Fords) and lots of bowling. Those strong shoulders were meant for that sport.
Marion and Goldie McCall
50th Wedding Anniversary
August 22, 1990
I thought I would stop breathing at the same time as Dad. But God just gives us the strength to carry on and the hope that makes us long for our eternal home with each of our loved ones.



Love you, Dad
See you soon.

"How blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked,
Nor stand in the path of sinners,
Nor sit in the seat of scoffers!
But his delight is in the law of the Lord,
And in His law he meditates day and night
He will be like a tree planted by streams of water,
Which yields its fruit in its season
And its leaf does not wither;
And in whatever he does, he prospers.”
(Psalm 1:1-3, NASB)

4 comments:

Lisa Mikitarian said...

This is a love story on so many levels and in so many different ways. Your recording of it has blessed me. It does the spirit good to hear of good people.

Derek said...

Nancy, Thank you for sharing your father with us. My grandparents, Jess and Leona Hargrave, always had the nicest things to say about your dad. I still remember as a young boy watching some serious domino competitions between them. I think they lived out of town then. I want to say Tuttle, but I am not positive.
Thanks again.
Tell your mother hello from me.

Patty Wysong said...

Oh boy, Nancy. Dads are so very special, aren't they? Thanks for sharing yours with us!!

Hugs!

Dee Yoder said...

I loved reading this about your dad, Nancy. What a lovely tribute to him. He sounds like a very precious and special dad indeed! I just love stories about Godly men and how they loved their families and their Lord.

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