Tender Mercies

Recently, my daughter said to me,"I didn't know your dad played the guitar. Why didn't you ever tell me?" I wrote about my family growing up in a rural area in Michigan in March this year but so much of my memory of that time was overshadowed by later events, particularly my mother's murder. I hardly ever write about my father, Richard, who died when he was 49 years old. It's difficult to write about him; I often think about the fact that he died before mom came out. They had an intense relationship with lots of fighting and making up. He was a dedicated father and a traditional family man. I guess it would have been confusing for him to know about mom's love of women.

I was so close to him. We had the same kind of quiet manner and appreciation of nature. He used to take time to teach me to sing. He knew mostly country gospel songs though he wasn't a religious "church going" man. He didn't talk much about spiritual subjects; actually, he didn't talk much at all. I used to think that he found God in nature but now I wonder if I was thinking about myself. Robert Duvall plays a character similar to my father's in the following scene from the movie, Tender Mercies.




Mac Sledge (Robert Duvall) teaches Sonny (Allan Hubbard) a bit about playing the guitar.



I remember this song, "The Old Country Church" in particular. We sang it in two parts, Dad would sing the low part and I would echo with the high. He was quite serious while teaching me and I knew that if I didn't pay attention my lesson would end. With five children in our family, I did not want to lose his undivided attention. I think I was the only one he taught these songs to but I cannot be completely sure. I am sure that I felt special when he took out his guitar and taught me to sing the songs he learned in his rural Tennessee childhood.



Dad's Wild-wood Rose

Open fields where
Long corn-rows stretch tiny...
Walking in the back-field,
"Who cut down the cornstalk?"
"I did. I'm sorry."
Sun-sweat in 100 degree weather...
"Can you make some ice tea?"

Tomatoes rest plump,
Victorious over healthy weeds.
Sun-falls and evening-rises.
A black hymnal falls open,
"Can we sing, The Old Country Church?"

The curved wood vibrates a melody
Through Dad's strings...
Crickets gently join
Cotton-wood heart shaped leaves
Dip and bless quiet-cool
All is well

Cynthia Pittmann

I miss my dad's company. I miss sitting out on the porch, lilac scent streaming through the cigarette smoke while watching lightning bugs. I would sit quiet waiting for the evening silence to break with a few words from my dad. And hope, too, to see his gold-tooth smile as he told a childhood story.

I remember your songs and your stories. Goodbye, Dad.

Richard Alfred Pittmann October 19, 1936-August 5, 1996