Burt Crawford, My Father
Burt Crawford is my father and he still lives with my mom in the small town where I grew up. Living in a town of 1800 people, most everyone knows everyone and that is true about my father. When he drives down the main street, he always holds out his hand using the hang loose sign, waving to every single car that he passes. As a teenager, this totally embarrassed me, but today, I see my father as the coolest man I know.
When you first see my father, he looks like an old man because of his wrinkled, droopy skin, thin eyebrows, and white hair that is barely there. In all actuality, my father is a senior citizen because he is seventy-four years old, but to me and those who know him, we see beyond his aged appearance. On his forehead above his right eyebrow, he has a red patch of skin about the size of a dime. He had to get a precancerous mole removed a few years ago, due to the many years he had spent in the sun and probably not being careful to apply sunscreen. As a result, my mother always reminds him to slather on SPF 50 sunscreen and put on his Tilley hat before going out in the sun.
Unlike myself, my father loves to wake up early and enjoy the peacefulness and calmness of the morning. He routinely makes a large pot of coffee, and while waiting for it to perk, he takes two scoops of flaxseed and grinds it in a grinder. Then he washes the dusty, tasteless, healthy powder down with a large glass of water and lies on the sofa, listening to the morning news on the radio.
My father is very frugal and has a difficult time paying full price for anything. Back when I was in high school, my dad bought some used, beat-up tables made of walnut, a very strongand durable wood, for only $5 dollars each. When I first saw them, they looked like they came from the garbage dump! He was so excited because he said they could be brought back to life and made to look like new. The next day, he was awake at the crack of dawn, feverishly sanding the tables with his electric sander. He somehow convinced me to help him, and we continued for a few days sanding, staining, and varnishing two of the tables. They actually turned out beautifully and I took one for myself when I moved into my own place.
Everyone I know loves my father’s easy-going and determined personality. He always has a way of calming me down in tense situations and his expression “never be worry” continually rings in my earswhen I find myself in a bind. While growing up, we’d often take family trips to Hawaii. Our rented condominium was steps away from the ocean, but there were no beaches, just a rocky, lava coastline. After climbing close to the sea, my father saw a small cove and decided it would be a great place to snorkel. The waves were crashing into the rocks but he was determined to get into the water, and that he did! Once he was in, he kept saying it was great and persisted until I joined him. My heart was racing but once I jumped into the cold sea and put my snorkel mask on, it was amazing to see the colorful fish and stunning coral.
In conclusion, I am extremely fortunate to have grown up with a creative, hard-working, and loving role model who is my father. It is not easy living so far away from him, however I cherish each day I am with him during my time when I’m home. He makes me realize the value of life, and I try to focus on the positive in life rather than letting any negativity get in my way.