Saturday, June 17, 2006

My Father's Birthday

Today would be my father's 100th birthday. He probably would not be alive since none of my relatives have made the century mark yet. Unfortunately he died in 1962 at the age of 56--nearly 44 years ago. If he had not smoked, I'm pretty sure he would have lived longer. His father and mother lived to 77 and 83, and his sister lived into her early 90's.

I've mentioned him in earlier posts. I only lived with him 16 years which is about 25% of my life. He was always an adult while I was only a child. I wish I could have known him after I grew up. He was a loner--friendly to everyone but never seemed too close to anyone. My aunt (Peg) described him as somewhat of a stuffed shirt. I remember that he had very few arguments with my mother. The only one I recall was when one he bought a set of encyclopedias without consulting her. I suspect they had others since my father was Presbyterian and my mother was Catholic, and she insisted that my brother and I be raised Catholic and go to Catholic school. He felt the public schools in Danville were more established, but if they argued over this or anything else I never saw it.

He came into the world as cars and planes were evolving. He was a pharmacist back in the days when they mixed compounds to fill prescriptions. I don't think he ever made over $10,000 a year, and often told me that his role as a druggist had changed during his career. He spent more time managing a retail operation instead of being a pharmacist. He died before computers and ipods became the norm. In fact air conditioning wasn't that wide spread. Today pharmacists are one of the hottest and best paying jobs in America.

His name was Frank Byerly Fleming, Jr. He was born and raised in Shippensburg, PA. He lived in a residence above the family drug store, graduated from Philadelphia College of Pharmacy & Science, and joined his father in the family business. He met my mother as he went overseas during WW II, and married her upon his return. In looking back over his family records it looks like the Flemings were staunch Presbyterians. He never went to church and would dismiss it by saying he was a "northern Presbyterian".

The family drug store had been sold during the war so he went to work for Peoples Drug Stores. We wound up in Danville, VA where he spent the rest of his life. In an earlier post I mentioned the one on one talks we frequently had after dinner in his bed room. My other favorite memory with him was going swimming at Luna Lake and later Glen Oaks Country Club. He was fairly active, walking to work sometimes, swimming and playing volleyball at the YMCA. Like most adults of his generation he smoked (unfiltered Camels). I remember he opened each pack by slicing it down the middle of one side with his fingernail. I also remember he could wrap a package tighter and more professionally than any gift wrapper in a department store.

I also remember he died from lung cancer over a 6 month time period without ever really saying goodbye. The last time I saw him in the hospital, his final words were "Just give me some more prendisone and I'll be fine." Spoken like a true pharmacist who never really let anyone get too close. He did have a profound effect on my mother. From the journal she kept from 1938--48 it's obvious she adored him despite whatever faults he had. She never really recovered from his death, so her many talents atrophied over time.

So how am I like him--how am I different? I am not very religious despite being raised a Catholic. Perhaps we both got too much religion in our youth. He was an honest, hard working man of morals. He had lots of friends but never seemed really attached to anyone except my mother. He did not have a temper which I seem to have (from my mother's side no doubt), although I am much better at controlling it than I used to be. He was handy with tools and could figure things out especially anything that interested him. He obviously had a talent for chemistry which was an absolute mystery for me--and the main reason I never became a pharmacist or doctor.

"Happy Birthday, Father (I never called him Dad). Thanks for bringing me into the world and getting me started on the journey of life. I just wish you could have spent more of it with me."

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