13 Years Gone

On the anniversary of Daddy's death

William Adam “Bill” Schmickle was born January 15, 1933 and died on November 4th, 2010, thirteen years ago today. I’m sharing the remembrance I wrote about Daddy and read at his memorial service in December 2010.

“Daddy Was There”

Reflecting on our life with my Father I am struck by the many ways he was present in our lives.

On Christmas morning we would all tumble onto the parental bed to open stockings, and once we had our tangerines from the toe, we all had to wait with bated breath at the top of the stairs with Mom while the preparations for our entrance to the living room of our cozy house were made ready. With Mom rounding up the rear, down the stairs we came to a wonderful train tooting around the track, and a tinseled tree atop the platform, and of course orchestrating it all, with a musical soundtrack, Daddy was there. Mind you, this man worked in retail, and Christmas eve was busy, and then there was church to attend, but he still managed to be sure and “help Santa" with Mom to make all that magic happen. Yes Daddy was there.

In the hot summers of our youth Daddy was there creating the best above-ground pool, with a perfect circle dug in the ground and every stone removed, sifted out y hand. Then a layer of sand laid down to make a great bed for the liner. Everything meticulously planned and executed to create years and years of backyard fun and comfort. Oh, and playing with us in the pool too! Can’t forget that. Just another way that Daddy was there.

When it came time to learn how to play baseball, I wasn't taught like a girl. No, Dad made sure I learned with a hardball, smack hard into my glove, and with a good fast throw. I always appreciated that he treated me the same as the boys and didn't dumb-it-down with a softball. He expected a bit more from me and made me expect more from myself.

When I was first out on my own and owned a car, a day arrived when my car needed a new alternator. Now normally this was something Daddy would have done for me, easy-peasy. But Dad had recently had heart trouble and couldn't lift anything or do strenuous things. And so, he talked ME through the procedure, and I got greasy up to the elbows, and sweaty, and all that, but damned if I didn't change out my alternator! Thank goodness Daddy was there to walk me through it and show me what I was capable of.

But perhaps the best example I can think of goes very far back. From the time I was small my parents would take us all “down the Shore" in the summer, and we'd spend long days in the sun on the beach. It was perfect having all day with Daddy for a whole week, because normally he worked days and evenings five to six days a week at Gimbels Department Store.

Even as a very little girl I remember he would hoist me on his hip and wade us out past the waves into what he called "The Deeps." This was water way over my head, and I clung to Daddy watching for jellyfish... or sharks. And then came the exciting moment when he would hold me by the hips, my small feet braced against him, and I would be flung up and away into The Deeps, on my own. Down I went. I would surface, sputtering and looking around and there, there was Daddy, always ready for me to paddle to and be scooped up into his arms. Sure as the Sun and the Moon, my Daddy was there.

Dad left us last month after a valiant battle, and I am glad in my heart that his rest has come. But in future days when I feel like I am somewhat lost, down in the Deeps, I know I will surface, and I think I'll be able to feel him right there. Sure as the Sun and the Moon.

Carole Schmickle Silvoy , December 28, 2010