Daisy's Memories

I don’t have any first-hand memories of my Dad, which is unfortunate. It makes sense, though, because I was three when he got sick and six when he passed away. I remember living in Logan during the time he was in the VA hospital in Salt Lake City, but the memories are both few and far between.

I remember being in kindergarten and having to wear an eye patch because I had a lazy eye, and I kept my hand over the patch all day. When I had to draw, I switched to my other hand, never revealing the massive patch that everyone knew was there. I remember my teacher sending my Mom a note saying that I never spoke. I was a very shy child, and judging from the pictures, I cried a lot. Some things never change.

I have a memory, but I do not know if it was real or imagined, of Rodney and me taking a bag of chocolate chips, and going out to the garage and eating the whole bag. Somehow when we came back, Mom knew what we had done, I can only imagine chocolate smeared all over our little faces and hands…but when you are a child, you think “how did she know?”

I remember having a dream one night while living in the big white house on the corner (the old Dial home), that it snowed. I came downstairs and told everyone, and they laughed because I had never seen snow, so how would I know what it looked like? To all of our surprise, we looked out the window and it was indeed, snowing. One of three things happened; first, I really had the dream, second, I saw something strange coming out of the sky from my bedroom window and assumed it was snow, or three, I am completely making this up. It seems real to me though.

Karen & Daisy Dial

I vaguely remember an incident between Willy and Karen. I think Willy wasn’t allowed to pour his own drinks, and in the end Karen dumped the whole pitcher on him. This is where memory flaws come in though. My entire life I have thought that it was a pitcher of lemonade, but someone recently told me it was water. In my mind it was lemonade and I have always wondered how sticky everything must have been.

What I do know for sure is this: all of my life I’ve heard about this man I never knew, and unknowingly felt deserted by him. It was a deep-seated emotion that was planted firmly in my soul. I didn’t even realize it was there, yet it affected everything in my life. I have since dealt with these feelings, and by that I mean that I have acknowledged he did not desert me. He, in fact, died. He had no control over the things that took place, and I know in my heart he would be here if he could be. I love him for my life, for my family and for the things in me that I know are from him. He is a part of me, and I am a part of him.

I can’t imagine what my Mother’s life was like. I can’t imagine losing a partner that I had been with for twenty years and had six (one of which passed away) children with. I can’t imagine most of all what it must have been like for her to finish raising us on her own. She has had an amazing life, and I know that my Dad would be happy with the accomplishments she has made, as a Mother and as a person. And finally, I know that he is waiting to greet her in the life after this.

As I have been putting things together for this blog I am helping to organize for my Dad, and reading about his life and illness, I came to realize that though I know he was a very good man, and has been missed by all who knew him, the real hero in this story, for me, is my Mom. She stood by his side while he was sick for three years, and she carried on as both Mother and Father after he was gone. She said something to me last week that I found interesting: "He was a much better man than I was a woman." It makes me sad to think that she believes that, because I think she is amazing. I have no doubt that my Dad was a very good man, but the two can’t be compared, because it would be like comparing apples and oranges. Maybe the reason that she remained here with us was because she was able to take on the responsibility of caring for five children on her own.

I want to take this opportunity to thank her for always accepting me regardless of what others might see as my "faults." Also, for giving me the opportunity to share my life and my experiences with her, without judgment. It's interesting to find, as I get older, how the people who have judged me and the way I am, are the same people that break the very commandments they claim to hold dear. It is not our job to judge each other, it is not our job to decide what is right for each other, it is our job to accept and love those in our lives, and to allow them the same liberties that we are allowed, the free agency to find our own path back to God. I learned this from her.

She is my hero. I've said it before and I will say it again, had I been in her shoes I probably would have killed myself...does that make me weak and her strong? No, it simply makes us different. Every person on earth is unique, just like our fingerprints. If we were all the same, what would be the point of us all living here together?

In 1985, my Mom had a massive stroke, which left her paralyzed on her right side and unable to speak. Fortunately, I decided to call her that morning, and knowing something was wrong, I drove to her house. The paramedics rushed her to Balboa Naval Hospital. After a couple of weeks she began talking again, and the first thing she said to me, with tears in her eyes, was “why didn’t you let me go so I could be with Glen?” It broke my heart because through the years she put on a very brave front, I am sure, for our benefit. In an instant I could see the devastating loneliness she felt having lost the love of her life so many years ago. She has missed my Dad each and every day since he was taken from her, and when I think of her having to leave my life, I take great comfort knowing that she will once again enter into his waiting, loving arms. I love you Mom and Dad.

—Daisy Dial

Beth Remembers Her Husband

These memories come from a recent interview with Beth by her granddaughter TatiAnna Tibbitts.

I was dating his brother, Merlin. I had heard of the whole family, but I hadn’t really known them. I was walking down the street one day, and he drove past me. And I thought it was Merlin, so I waved to him— though I didn’t know him from anybody! That’s how I met him. And this girl that was with me said: “I get him.” But he pointed to me and said, “I get her.”

Soon after that, he went back to the Navy, so I didn’t see him for quite a while. Our first date, I was supposed to be going out with Merlin, but he stood me up. Glen came to tell me he wasn’t coming, and I ended up going with him instead. I did his hair. I don’t remember why but I put it up in bobby pins.

Glen sent Beth this Christmas Card in 1949 from the U. S. S. Toledo.
(Click to enlarge.)

We had a very small wedding. He was stationed in Bremerton, Washington, and I went up there and we got married up there. I took the bus from Salt Lake to Bremerton. It was a miserable ride.

I don’t remember much, but I remember that he was a very, very good man. He was a much better man than I was a woman.

He was sick for three years, and was in the hospital most of those three years. He was in the Salt Lake V.A. near the end. He came home on weekends.

—Beth Dial