Daddy Was Great

Daddy Was Great! You might say he was my stepfather! Wait! Don’t you dare call him tht! I was raised to hate the word “step”. Because he and my mother married when I was a weaning toddler I would rather call him Daddy, or in adult terms, my godfather. Because God gave him to me. Worked 35 years in the oilfield, 19 of those with Baker Hughes. Yes at times in their early marriage things between him and Mama were rocky, but I don’t care to think of tht. These were the times when Mama had a backup boyfriend named J who I was terrified of. Daddy may have been stern at times, but from the time I was 3 to the time I was 13, the man was my hero! Those times when I was sick and or in the hospital for testing, he was a rock for Mama and me. He was the Dad who stepped up to the plate and took care of us. Henry Alfred “Hank” Seibold was the hero of the family. I couldn’t see it back then but even when I disagreed with him, I’ve come to realize he was the glue tht held this family together. Since his dath, family hasn’t been the same. For 2 years he saw some action in Vietnam working in the motorpool for the 101st Airborne. Yet he didn’t talk about the war much. In my 20’s, my maternal grandmother would tell me about the nights Mama had to sit up with him after the flashbacks he had. Now Daddy wasn’t perfect. After the Vietnam War, there were times when he drank heavily. Especially during adulthood, I deeply resented him during those times. But I’m grateful that Mama ultimately curbed some of the alcoholic tendencies he had. From the time I was 13 up to 38 years old I developed a love hate relationship to him. I thought the man was crazy, way off base. I even thought him cold and uncaring whe I went to college and graduate school. In the summer of 2007 I was ready to swear him off and go look for another family, when God helped me see my ways when I was hospitalized a second time for bipolar depression. Other times though the love shined through. In 2001 when my Dad and another person wanted to drag me to a military doctor to get my sight back, Daddy joined with another friend to put a stop to it. Hank Seibold, my hero! In August 2008 after yet another hospitalization for bipolar, Mama requested my presence home for a few days. One night she and the other women of the family were gone, and my brother in law at the time took my nephew to look for video games. I remembered Daddy and I shared a tender moment as we shared fried chicken and watched Platoon together. In November of that year I announced that I may be returning home. The Saturday after Thanksgiving he gave me a stern talking to. “”Now damnit boy you better listen to me!” Daddy said, “You better make up your mind right now where you want to be! Cause I’m tired you wandering all over the place and your Mama worrying whether you may be dead or alive! Wake up and see realities! Settle down right here and right now! As I returned to stay with a friend of mine named Jim Bob I asked Mama why he wwas so cranky. She told me before Thanksgiving that Dad was diagnosed with bronchitis. I never knew just how sick he was because he rarely showed it. On February 16, 2009 Daddy was rushed to the hospital for what looked like pneumonia. I prayed with all fervency for him to live, but at the time my faith was weak. He died March 16, 2009. Although his death cut me to the quick,, it began the slow progress of returning me back to faith in God. His words forever hung in my life, and now I live on the family property in between Midland and odessa Texas thanks to him. Thank you Daddy. It menas a lot to me.