Happy Father’s Day to all the dads out there who are working hard, raising families and striving to make the world just a little bit better for the next generation. We thank you.
Throughout this Keeping It REAL Caregiving journey, you’ve gotten to know me and my mother, Miss Nellie, but I haven’t shared much about my father, Donald Yarbough.
He served his career in the United States Air Force and was always proud to be part of the military. Choosing to join the service gave him opportunities he might not otherwise have had.
Donald Yarbough/USAF
My father passed away in 1989. He was only 53-years old. Three years younger than my age now, which is a sobering thought. For all practical purposes, he was just getting started.
Lung cancer claimed my father’s life. He was a life-long smoker. When me and my siblings would press him to quit smoking, he would often chuckle and say, “These cancer sticks are gonna get me yet!”
He was right.
For many years after he passed I was so angry at him for being a smoker.
For not quitting when doctors diagnosed his lung cancer
For dying and leaving my mother
For dying and leaving before I could get a chance to know him one adult to another
I often wish I had had more time with my dad. I think we would have been good friends. I think he would be super proud of me and my siblings and how our lives have turned out.
Growing up, my father worked a lot (I see where I get my work-a-holic tendencies from) and many times was stationed elsewhere. I didn’t really get a chance to know him. But I have distinct memories. When I allow myself to sit still and think about the past, even more materialize.
In honor of Father’s Day 2022 recognition of:
If there was a zoo to be found anywhere near the military bases we were stationed, you could bet Dad would plan a trip to the zoo. Glance through family photo albums and you’ll find dozens of random pictures of animals.
My father always practiced the guidelines of his military training. He exhibited pride in his work and respected his duties and others. As a child I vividly remember him polishing his work boots at night, ensuring they were clean, spotless and impeccable; ready for the next day. That's just one example.
My Dad was the type of person who would talk, laugh and joke with just about anyone. He was friendly like that. No one remained a stranger for long, because he just started chatting with them and would make friends easily. I think that part of him is part of me.
Like most men (or so it seems),cars played a large role in his life. Not necessarily fixing them, as he didn’t do much mechanic putzing around, but going to car shows and seeing nice cars.
He especially loved the Cadillac. When he purchased a convertible Cadillac Eldorado… I think it may have been one of the happiest days of his life! Speaking of cars, he also taught me to drive a 6-speed; insisted I have that skill. I am forever grateful for those early driving lessons.
Maybe it was because he had been in the military and served in two wars. Who knows where it came from, but my father always had the attitude that nothing was going to take him down - not even the cancer sticks.
He would always say, he was like Dorian Gray - the classic novel character who does not age and seems to live on forever, yet a portrait of himself declines over time.
When I visit my parents’ grave site, I can’t help but wonder about all the other military service members also buried at the National Presidio Cemetery.
Who were they?
What were they like?
Who and where are their children, grandchildren and great grandchildren?
I also wonder, can an obituary capture the true essence of a person? My father’s reads like this:
Donald Yarbough (May 31, 1935 - February 23, 1989)
Wherever you are dad, Happy Father’s Day. Maybe one day, on the other side, I'll have a second chance to get to know you.
Happy Father's Day, 2022!
Until next time,
Julia
