MEMORIES OF MY FATHER RAPHAEL CLEMENT
Mother said that when I was a baby I had a convulsion and she sent someone running out into the field where Dad was working to have him come quickly and help. She said that he ran as fast as he could to the house but by the time he got there, I was fine. Mom said that scenario was repeated ten times that day, each time with the same results. That story helps me understand the caring side of dad. He cared for and loved his family very much.
When my younger brother Charles was born, I remember how happy I felt when Dad would play with him. He would beam when he showed mom the cute things the baby could do. For instance, every time Dad picked Charlie up, Charlie would grab Dad's pen out of his shirt pocket on the way up. Dad enjoyed that little ritual a lot. If Dad took Charlie on a ride with him, he said Charlie would say, "I painted those lines on the road", or, "I built all those buildings", etc, etc. Dad got a big kick out of that.
Susan was such an adorable little thing and she and Dad were very close. He had more time to spend with the younger children and he loved every minute of it.
Bart Czirr moved to Richland in the summer of 195l. His parents divorced almost as soon as he left home. He was an only child and felt very alone after the divorce. Family was very important to him. One Christmastime, in 1952, Bart and I were at my home with members of my family on Christmas Eve day enjoying the holiday when Bart said, "I'm going to go home to see if my mother sent me a Christmas package or letter." He lived only a few blocks from my house in a dormitory built by the government for single males. I went with him but there wasn't anything there for him.
We returned to my house and a little while later Bart said, "I'm going to go see if something is there now. My mom is usually late but I'm sure she will send something." Sometimes more than one package delivery a day was made at Christmastime.
So he left our house again full of optimism that his mom would send something and full of happiness because of the season of the year. When he came back empty he was getting a little worried but trying not to let it show and spoil anyone's celebration. After a third or fourth trip Dad couldn't stand it any longer and he invited Bart to stay overnight at our home. Bart of course jumped at the chance. Dad was sensitive to Bart's feelings especially because of Bart hearing nothing from his parents at Christmas and because of the dissolution of his family a short time before. Bart appreciated his kindness very much.
Bart slept with Charlie, who was almost 11 years old, in a twin bed. He didn't care that it was a bit crowded and neither did Charlie. They slept in the same bedroom as my elderly Grandpa Clement who had his own twin bed. Even though Grandpa was elderly and snored very loud, nothing could dampen Bart's joy in staying there that Christmas Eve.
He was there the next morning when Susan, who was almost six years old, ran downstairs to see what Santa Claus had left for her. In fact, the night before, Bart helped play Santa, filling stockings and setting out presents before going to bed. He loved it.
After I was married in June of 1953 Dad would often stop by my house on his lunch hour just to say hello. He sometimes invited me to ride to Yakima with him where he was doing missionary work among the Indians there. One day he invited me to go to a store and buy anything I wanted. I thought that was a very thoughtful and generous thing to do. I knew they didn't have lots of money so I chose conservatively, a decorative pin and matching earrings. They looked very beautiful on my white linen suit I had worn for my high school graduation.
Dad was asked to sing a solo in church one week. He had a beautiful tenor voice and was sought after as a singer at many events. He asked me to accompany him on the piano. I felt very inadequate and didn't think I could do it and would ruin his performance. He encouraged me to do it so I did. I did manage to get through it and felt pretty good about that experience with dad.
When I was sixteen years old during mid 1951, Dad asked me if I would be willing to type Patriarchal blessings for him. I typed them and enjoyed it very much. Dad gave Bart his Patriarchal blessing after Bart was baptized. I was the one who typed it. Bart has cherished that experience and it's very nice to have dad's signature on it.
Dad was quiet and dignified. When people took time to get to know him, they respected him and loved him dearly. He was often asked for advice on many subjects. Whenever a Sunday School class discussion would bog down on a gospel principle or scripture the teacher would ask dad, knowing he would know the answer. Dad studied the scriptures a lot and had a gift to understand and interpret the scriptures. He studied and loved Isaiah. Anyone who loved and understood Isaiah was a scriptorian indeed. It was nice to know he was an authority on such important things because that meant he was a humble man and open to inspiration from the Holy Ghost.
When Dad worked swing shift, he was often home in the daytime. He would drive mom and her visiting teacher partner to the homes they visited. He loved any opportunity to be with mother.
I very much appreciated and enjoyed Dad's treatment of mother. When she would get ready to go someplace Dad would sit downstairs generally reading the scriptures while he waited for her.
As soon as she came down the stairs into view, he would give an almost inaudible whistle to indicate that he thought she was really something else. She loved it and would grin thereby indicating to him that it pleased her.
Dad advised us to always take a dime with us - the price of a phone call then - when we were away from home so we could let them know if circumstances changed our plans. He said that if there were an emergency they wanted to be able to reach us, so they wanted always to know where we were going.
When asked about the sabbath day and appropriate things to do, Dad would say, "Well, here's what your mother and I think about it," and then reading an appropriate scripture about how important the sabbath day is to the Lord. And finally, "Now make up your own mind."
Dad was very fair. He always let us know first about what he didn't want us to do. If we disobeyed, then he meted out any restriction or punishment we had coming.
When I was sixteen, I had been invited to go skiing and had offered to make lunch. The date was with someone I really liked and wanted to impress. I had boiled a bunch of potatoes ahead of time so I could hurry home from school and make a potato salad.
When I got home I looked for the potatoes and they were gone! I was expressing myself rather loudly that Mother had probably used them to give to someone - she was always helping someone out - and what could I do, I didn't have time to boil more potatoes and make the salad. I didn't know Dad was home. He was upstairs. He very gently said, "Shanna, look in the fridge."
I did, and there was a beautiful salad mom had made up for me knowing I was very pressed for time. Again she had helped someone -me. I was so embarrassed for assuming mom had sabotaged my plans. I should have realized she would never do that and I should have been glad if she had helped someone in need even if she had to use my potatoes. I was also embarrassed that my Dad had heard me be so ungracious about the person he adored. I tried from then on to look first and leap later even if it was only leaping to conclusions.
Dad made lots of pleasant things with wood. With mom's artistic ability and ideas and his know-how with wood, we had lots of nice things. My bedroom particularly was pretty because of their combined talents.
I remember Dad saying to all of us that he couldn't function in his calling as Patriarch if there was contention in the home. We all tried very hard after that to do better and home became what I hope heaven is like - fun, pleasant, busy with lots of love for each other. A place where people feel welcome and secure.
Many times in my life quotes from Dad helped strengthen my testimony or kept me solidly on the right path. Down to earth is what I call it or good horse sense. Some examples:
"It's easy to be good, the hard part is wanting to."
"Follow the prophet and apostles—it's their job to keep error out of the church."
"Keep your body washed and presentable—beyond that pay no attention to it. All it is is a lump of clay. Pay attention to your spirit."
And many scripture favorites such as:
"Do not be ashamed of the gospel of Christ for it is the power of God unto salvation."
No comments:
Post a Comment