Today is January 7th. Exactly one year ago, I lost my father. He was 77 years old. If you didn't have a chance to read my blog yesterday, "Two Good Guys (Amazing Men) - Part 1, then you don't already know that my husband and I lost our father's within 36 hours of each other. His Father, Houston "Bud" Slade, whom I wrote about yesterday, passed on the 6th, and my father, Eldon Gene Felix, passed on the 7th.
If you didn't read my blog yesterday, then you also don't already know that the two of them had so much in common and were alike in so many ways, even though they had never known each other previous to my husband and I getting married.
"They were products of the same era. Both liked to hunt and fish. They "loved" to dance, and enjoyed listening to country music. They both worked for and retired from CDOT. Both were married a lifetime to their best friend and role models for their families. Both had a sense of humor and liked to share a nip of whiskey. Both were generous with their time and affection. Both were natives of Colorado. Both liked wearing a pair of comfortable blue jeans, a western shirt and a pair of good boots. Both died in January of 2008 and both had "Danny Boy" sung at their funeral."
They also were like magicians; they could fix anything. It didn't matter whether the problem at hand required the skills of a licensed electrician, plumber, mechanic, framer, roofer, landscaper, cook, or whatever, they could fix it. Things were seldom thrown out, and nothing was ever wasted. Living through the depression had changed both of them and they had become extremely self reliant.
If the washing machine broke, it was taken apart and fixed. The car broke down, it was disassembled and repaired. Radio or hand mixer, no problem, those were fixed too. More space needed in the house, or the basement finished; easily handled, they took care of that too.
Both had a sense of pride and their tools and possessions were maticulously cared for. Tools, were wiped clean and put away in their place after each use. Cars, machinery, fishing tackle, guns, etc. were treated in the same manner. Everything always clean, organized and in its place.
My Dad was one of four sons, born in 1930 to potatoe farmers in Olathe, CO. The four boys together with their mom and dad worked the farm. The boys had to share in the cleaning and cooking chores too, but didn't seem to mind. They chopped wood, fed the chickens, slopped the pigs, and milked the cows. They hunted wild game, grew most all of their own vegetables, and picked and canned all of their fruit.
No one had money to purchase their bumper crops of potatoes during the depression and they lost the family farm. They worked as a family (all 6 of them) at whatever jobs they could find. Sometimes, that meant being bent over an onion row, in the hot summer heat, weeding all day to collectively earn 50 cents (yes, all of them combined -- not each).
He entered the Navy after a short stay in College and upon returning to civilian life, married my mother. They worked right beside each other throughout the years as he worked for Colorado electric, the phone company and eventually with CDOT where he retired. He worked harder and sacrificed more than anyone I know, never ever complaining. Together they had three children, seven grandchildren and seven great grandchildren, loved each of them dearly and never shied away from telling them so.
He was honest to a fault, full of integrity and loved a good laugh. He loved life, all forms of it, and had an undeniable respect for nature and the beauty of God's creation. We took many trips to the mountains to fish, camp or just get away for an afternoon picnic. Dad loved his Colorado mountains; he felt closer to his maker there than anywhere else in the world.
He had an endless supply of patience as he taught life's lessons, including the art of driving to each of his children and nearly all of his grand children too. His home was never fancy, but always comfortable, warm and safe; providing a sanctuary and retreat away from just about everything.
His mortgage was paid in full, his cars were owned outright and he, rarely used a credit card. He just didn't believe in using them except to travel, but balances were always paid in full before acruing interest.
He was a prankster and loved to have fun. It always amazed me how he could think of so many ways to have fun, without ever spending a dime. Whether it was having a water fight in the front yard, being pulled on a sled (or scoop shovel) behind the jeep, being pulled down the canal on a pair of water skies behind the truck (before we afforded a boat), or whatever, there was always ways to have fun.
He loved dancing, and could cut quite a rug. It was amazing to watch him dancing with my mom; both enjoying it so much and having so much fun. He loved to hunt and fish and tell stories. Most of all, he loved his family; of this fact, there was never any doubt. Every conversation and every phone call always ended with his familiar "I love you." Every visit always ended with a warm hug.
We are who we are, in large part, because of the man my father was. We loved him dearly, miss him terribly, but will always cherish the memories we hold so dear in our hearts.
Eldon Gene Felix (August 10, 1930 - January 7, 2007)
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