TUPATALK: The big 'T'

Thankfulness.

I’m grateful the Man Upstairs blessed me with limbs that work, eyes that see, ears that hear and a mind to comprehend the beauty of the world and the people around me.

I’m grateful for two parents that loved my sister and me as we became aware of who we were. A childhood memory stands out.

We lived on a hill in a Los Angeles-area suburban neighborhood and our driveway slanted. My dad forbid me to ever climb in the car. But, my curiosity overwhelmed me. On a sunny afternoon, I wriggled up on the seat and somehow put the car in neutral or took off the emergency brake. As it rolled down the driveway, I dived out onto the lawn just in front of the sidewalk. In a state of four-year-old horror, I watched it roll lengthwise across the street and bump into the gutter.

My dad seemed to burst through our front door at about the same time as the guy in the facing house came out.

Dad started the car and drove it back to the driveway. He asked me to follow him into the house.

In absolute shame, I obeyed. I really didn’t fear discipline more than I felt devastated I had disappointed my dad.

He never put a hand on me. I think he sensed I had suffered the worst punishment of all — the conviction and bending to a guilty conscience.

I think he knew I would never disobey him again. I never did.

I’m grateful for a mom that put the welfare and happiness of my sister and me above her own comfort. She really put it all on the line to make sure my sister and I had decent chances at creating happy and worthwhile lives.

I’m grateful for sports, that a kind providence guided me to find them and to wrapping my heart around them.

Many things about sports have been my teachers.

I’m grateful for heroes of character such as Lou Gehrig and Roberto Clemente, I’m grateful for the lessons of tolerance inculcated by the experiences of Jackie Robinson and Jesse Owens — lessons my mom helped teach me.

I’m grateful for boyhood heroes, such as Joe Kapp, Bill “Boom-Boom” Brown, Karl Kassaulke, Zelmo Beatty, Wilt Chamberlain, Tony Olivia, Harmon Killebrew, Peggy Fleming, Kresimir Cosic, Ernie DiGregorio, Walt “Clyde” Frazier, Willie Stargell, Ron Boone, Johnny Unitas, Jim Brown, Gale Sayers, Willie Mays, Joe Frazier, Ken Norton, Arnold Palmer, and so many others.

I’m grateful for my faith and wonderful church members I have known.

I recall one night when my sister and I were alone at home and our mom at her job as a late-night cleaning lady at a bank/office building. Our Bishop walked by and saw us outside and stopped to talk. He had tried to convince mom to accept church help with food and clothes, but she had absolutely refused. She clung stubbornly to the virtues of self-reliance and independence.

She did it not only for herself but for us, because she wanted to teach us to try to make our own way in life.

But, the Bishop told my sister and I that evening there was no shame in accepting a helping hand when really, really needed. His caring and concern touched my sister and me deeply. Mom came home to a couple of crying children who tried to pass on his sentiments. I think she was impacted as well.

The next day or two, she contacted the Bishop and we received some welcome assistance on a temporary basis.

I’m grateful for mom’s example and for her willingness to remain true to her principles but also to learn and grow.

I’m grateful that age 55 she passed away calmly — like a grandfather clock whose pendulum reaches its final stroke — with a halo of serenity around her, as cancer exacted its final toll.

(Note: Part 2 of this column is planned for the next issue.)

This article originally appeared on Bartlesville Examiner-Enterprise: TupaTalk column