The father of one of my dearest friends died Monday. He was a teddy-bear of a guy with a sharp wit and wicked sense of humour, whom I used to think looked a bit like Christopher Hewitt, of Mr Belvedere fame.
Tara and I have been friends since my senior year in High School, when I was her teacher's assistant. I first met her parents when she received her Master's Degree and they travelled up from SC for the ceremony. I was then struggling through my first marriage (a whole 'nother story, there) and I got the impression that whilst Tara's folks liked me, they didn't have much use for my 'other half'. They were right not to think much of him. After I got divorced, Tara invited me to travel to her parents house with her for a bit of a holiday. A chance to get away from familiar surroundings and relax some. I got to know her parents better on that trip and by the end of the holiday had taken to calling them "Mom" and "Dad", and Tara's grandmother, who lived with "Mom" and "Dad" was just "Grandma". "Dad" wasn't Tara's natural father - he was her step dad, but he may as well have been her real father because he loved Tara and her brother, Marshall, and cared for them as if they were his own flesh and blood. That trip was a healing time for me. "Dad" presided over cocktail hour most nights, and introduced me to the tipples that have been my favourites for years. "Dad" mixed me my first "Captain & Coke", which was my usual pub order for a long time. I can remember sipping a "C&C", or Fuzzy Navel and discussing life and all it's ups and downs while "Jeopardy" played quietly on the telly in the background. My most favourite cocktail ever, though, would have to be "Sabra & Cream", which consisted of a shot Sabra Chocolate-Orange Liqueur blended with vanilla ice cream. "Dad" would happily make me one, and one for my Mom when she visited the Saathoff's with me on later visits. Even when he was down to his last bottle of it, and it wouldn't be available anymore**, Dad would say "I know what 'Knucklehead' wants" and promptly make one. I hadn't thought of Sabra & Cream for years and years - mainly because I thought it was unavailable - but reminising these past couple of days brought back the warm memories of the pre-dinner cocktail at the Saathoff's.
**There was, apparently, an embargo or sanctions of some sort.
Many visits followed that initial visit, and in '91 I moved to SC and Tara and I were roommates for about a year before she married. That meant I got pretty much adopted into the Saathoff family since Tara and I spent a lot of time there. Wrapping Christmas presents for "Mom", decorating the tree. I remember going over once to help "Dad" with setting up his stereo because I was the most likely candidate for knowing which plugged into what. I eventually wound up in Savannah because that's where work was and I can remember seeing "Dad" occasionally when I would venture back to Beaufort. "How come you don't come visit anymore?" he'd ask. The truth is, at that time, I'd have rather been anywhere but Savannah, and eventually planned my escape, which brought me back to NC.
The last time I saw "Dad" was in the summer of 2001 when Graham and I went to Myrtle Beach on holiday and made a side-trip to Charleston, meeting Tara, "Mom" and "Dad", Tara's ex, Hank, and their daughter Sian. "Dad" was proudly tooling around in his brand-new Honda Highlander - so new it didn't even have the tags yet. He'd lost a lot of weight and was getting around better than he had in years, with a nice healthy glow. I was glad Graham got to meet him, because he's the closest thing to a "Dad" I had, as I'd lost my own father in '90. We said our good-byes with a promise to come to Beaufort for a proper visit. We never managed it.
Farewell, "Dad" - I'm really going to miss you.
Bobbie R. Saathoff, 1932-2005
