He was a country boy living in the big city and working at a steel mill. He was also a husband and father. From as far back as my childhood, I remember my father saying to me and my siblings, "Don't give up."
He said it sarcastically at times, but always lovingly. When housework was needed and when homework was slacking. When behaviors were unruly. Dad would preach that we knew better and he would always end his lectures (and spankings) with a resounding, "Don't give up."
What did he mean? He meant to do your best under all circumstances. When we misbehaved, we knew that it was not acceptable behavior and if we "gave up" on behaving ourselves, we would end up nowhere in life forever making bad choices. His intent was for us to strive to be good and the best. Don't just sweep the floor, bend down and pick up trash in hard-to-reach places. Don't just mop the floor, scrub the baseboards. Don't just rush through homework to get on the phone, study your homework. Don't grab the first boy that comes along, check his "credentials." Don't just have a baby, raise it!
When daddy had his first stroke, he did not give up. He pushed himself with therapy and gained back all his motor skills. "I ain't giving up," he would say.
When daddy got diabetes, he began walking all the time everywhere and eating baked everything. "I ain't giving up," he would always say.
When daddy had his second stroke, he pushed equally hard and his doctors remarked, "this man does not give up!"
When daddy was diagnosed with colon cancer, he was given six months to live. We grieved. He fought. He altered his diet and continued his daily walks despite chemo and the pain. He worked in his garden and got his "house in order." His message was still a resounding, "Don't give up!"
What he meant for us was not to mourn him and lose sight of our own lives and aspirations and all the things he wanted for us to have being happy no matter what. Daddy pushed so hard, he lived an amazing 18 months post cancer diagnosis.
During his final days just before he lost the ability to speak clearly, he looked over me in my early bipolar state when I was basically a zombie moving through the days. He said to me, "You have education. You have children. You have a home. You are wasting your education. You are failing your children. Your home is a mess." I just stared as the words seeped into me.
Then he put his hand on my shoulder and said, "Agnes, don't give up."
Agnes ~ Too Wise Not To Praise Him!
Author of "Cooling Well Water: A Collection of Work By An African-American Bipolar Woman" ISBN 0975461206 Winter Release Pending -
www.myspace.com/coolingwellwater
Posted By: agnes levine
Sunday, September 7th 2008 at 6:57AM
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