My Memoirs Backstory: My Daddy, Floyd O. Spencer, Pt.6

dad-side-view-3rd-try
Dad in his 60s


“Like all the arts, the Science of Deduction and Analysis
is one which can only be acquired by long and patient study,
nor is life long enough to allow any mortal to attain
the highest possible perfection in it.”
Arthur Conan Doyle



Continued from “My Daddy, Part 5:

Shortly before Daddy died, I saw a change in him. His visage fairly glowed, and he had become much more loving, relaxed, patient, kind, and happy — such that I no longer feared so much being in his presence. He had become more pleasureable to be around.

It was as though he’d undergone an epiphany — a life-changing experience, though I was not around him enough nor on comfortable enough terms with him to inquire as to any such experiences he might have had.

Furthermore, I was married then, and very busy taking care of my six-month-old baby at the time he was nearing death … then died. (As an aside and coincidence, he passed away on my eighteenth birthday!)

During his lifetime he had always done a lot to help others. Being an all-around-handyman and Jack-of-all-trades (and Master of a few), people would often come to him for advice or call on him to help them fix something.

He never turned them down … that I know of — much to Mother’s frustration and dismay: “Daddy, why don’t you turn some of these people down?! There are things piling up around here to be done while others impinge on you to work for them for free!” (Mother generally called him “Daddy” just as we kids did.)

Yes, he had plenty of his own work around the house waiting to be done. But people appreciated and respected Daddy for his knowledge and know-how, when it came to being “Mr.-Fix-it-Man,” and he enjoyed his revered reputation. He was no Scriptorian, though … unlike my mother’s brother, Ervil LeBaron, who often called on Daddy to fix things for him.

Uncle Ervil, who many of my readers may know of or will soon hear about (if you read my blogs for long) was just the opposite of Daddy.  He spent most of his time studying Scriptures and Mormon religious works, writing some — and preaching a lot. I don’t recall him ever doing any manual labor. He managed to get my father and others to serve him, instead.

I don’t know how much money religiously-stalwart Daddy also put toward supporting Uncle Ervil and all his many wives and children — as well as my other uncles and their families, at times, when they were hard up for money and food.

I only know he certainly paid much more than his 10% in tithing, despite the large family he, himself, maintained. And he did this right up until the day he died at about seventy-one years of age! There was never any retirement for him — my hard-working papa!

Like everyone else, dedicated and diligent, conscientious Daddy liked feeling special and needed. And he enjoyed  serving God, all the while being able to put to use his skills and ingenuity as he helped repair others’ broken equipment, or advised them on how to build something — or taught them how to do some of these things for themselves. Thus, he employed many of the things he had learned how to do … right up until the day he died.

So where he lost favor with people due to his judgmental temperment and sharp tongue, he gained respect and popularity by being otherwise naturally unassuming and willing to lend a humble, helping hand. And he benefitted from that respect, acceptance, and connection. It was a wonderful interchange of mutual love and appreciation.



*Other facts about Daddy that I didn’t think to bring up earlier:

*He was very sensitive, astute, and strong-willed. Therefore, as a young man, he abandoned his parents in Michigan, due to fallings-out with them — never again to contact them nor to return home for a visit.

His aunt had raised him since he was around four or five, I believe, as I related in an earlier blog. I’m not sure how young he was when he left his aunt’s home and took off to make it on his own. I’m only sure he was a true survivor. And what didn’t kill him made him stronger!


*Once he proudly told me:
At age twenty-eightI gave up smoking and drinking when I joined the Mormon church (The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints). I was able to quit “cold turkey!” I simply decided to quit.  And I never smoked again!”

And Daddy said, of his past smoking habit:
People who will smoke will drink, and people who will drink will chase women.”

 He also informed me:
“I gave up square dancing, too, because I found that it lead to fornication when men and women danced with other than their own spouse or partner.”




*Once, when I was twelve years old, he caught me looking up the word “sex” in the dictionary. Reproachfully admonishing me, he proclaimed:

The words “sex” and “fun” should be cut out of the dictionary!! Sex is only for procreation!  And people shouldn’t be wasting their time playing/ having fun. The Lord’s Kingdom won’t get built up that way!



I disagree with him in some of his misconceived notions. But we all are in a process of learning and growing during our lifetimes. I bring up these above points to simply show what a stoic life he, I, and other true-believing fundamentalists lived.

*But other points in his favor are that while Daddy was living in Arizona, and raising a large family with his first wife, Ava (Eva?), he was a Boy Scout Master, which position he enjoyed and was very proud of.

*And he was even Mayor of a small city for some time, I was told. But I’m not sure what city that was. My daughter checked and couldn’t find his name listed as having been Mayor of the city where I thought my parents said he’d been Mayor. So who knows!


*(Continued in “My Memoirs: My Daddy, Pt 7.”)


 

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