Dad First - After the Family (June 25,1921 - June 23, 2004)

In 1945, when he was 75 years old, my grandfather William Harcreator Nelson died from a stroke. His grandkids called him B-daddy. At that time my dad was a fighting man in the US Navy in the Pacific Fleet. He received notification of his father’s death too late to join his family as they mourned. He regretted that.
Knowing that fact about my dad makes me want to tell you a few stories about him. I listed characteristics that he possessed and thought of stories for each. But at the top of the list was modesty – so I know he would not be pleased if I told you 10-12 stories . . . so I picked three-ish.
First – his sense of duty
Dad knew the duties of a man, a husband, a friend and a father. He carried them out. For example he knew that every gentleman carries a clean handkerchief. And he always did.
His sense of duty led him to enlist in the US Navy to fight WWII. To get into the Navy one had to demonstrate the ability to swim. . . . My dad could not swim, but he felt compelled to serve. So, he got a buddy to swim for him! This came back to haunt him.
For, you see, the first ship on which he served, the USS Strong, was torpedoed and sank in about 15 minutes. When he was rescued from the water, he was wearing three life vests. He and the other survivors drifted in enemy waters a while before being rescued. All three of his children can swim .
Frugal
Terry, the baby of our family (or prince as he says it), says my dad wrote the book on frugal. His management of automobiles shows that. For the first 15-20 years of their married life my parents had only one car. Every day we all took dad to work and picked him up at the end of the day. When we finally got a second car, it was a hand-me-down from my 80 year old grandmother.
We were taught to care for our cars from an early age. Well, Terry and I were. “Princess Jan” did not attend these lessons. We washed and waxed our own cars, changed the oil and filters, replaced worn out batteries, generators, water pumps, fuel pumps, shock absorbers, headlights, on and on . . .
When I was a freshman in college, I had to borrow my sister’ car. (The “princess” got when it was BRAND NEW!) Since he had bought her a car, I mistakenly thought I was due one. I pestered him for months. He rarely wrote letters, so I was pleased to find a letter from him in my mailbox at Baylor. I the envelope I found a clipping from the paper. The article addressed the cost of raising a child. Considering the stay-at-home mom’s lost income and the expenses, the total estimate was $650,000. Across the bottom of the clipping my dad had written, “ Go pick out a Rolls-Royce (which cost about $100,000 back then), in fact get six and deduct it from the total you owe us.” That shut me up.
That Spring we went to the new Japanese car company in the US – Datsun (Nissan to you) and bouth a B-110. (The car whose battery was bigger than the motor.) We paid $1250 – which was added to the $650,000 tab.
Family
OK, boys. Remember what I gave you? (Each received one of his granddaddy’s handkerchiefs) Now’s the time to get them out.
This last story involves two heroes in this family – Both doing what was right for the family.
Dad was noticed by the upper management of Exxon, so they offered him chances at the “fast track” – to climb the corporate ladder, skipping steps. They took him to Houston (the next phase in his career) to shoe him around. They did this as least three times that I remember. Each time he rejected the offer. He refused because he felt it was not the best place to raise his children. He would stay in Midland. Of course, such refusals always cost. My dad’s boss voiced his displeasure and warned that dad would suffer.
Another hero in our family, our Uncle Charlie East went into the boss to explain my dad’s values and reasoning. Legend has it that Uncle Charlie’s kind words cost him advancement as well.
These men understood family and that a job was a job. It was necessary to support the family. There was no idea that career required the family to sacrifice.
Humor – OK there are 4 stories, but I cannot stop here.
My dad offered his “fortune” to any of his children who would name their child Hargrove as the first name and call that child by that name. (My wife Melinda and I tried the “William” for our first son, but that was not good enough.) You may have noticed that my niece is about to add another child to the family. She and her husband will not tell anyone the names they have selected. I am suspicious.
So, I must declare that the “Hargrove name thing” has expired.

Three stories (or four) don’t do it. 100 stories wouldn’t do it. God’s creative gift of stories and language He gave us to explore Him. My dad’s exploration of God led Him to stake his claim to eternity on faith that Jesus Christ was exactly who He said He was: God on Earth as a Son serving the Father. The certainty of that is what my dad lived. So we, his family follow him to the Heavenly Father.

Welcome Home - Mom - Septmeber 4, 1923 - May 5, 2009

When we were discussing who needed to share thoughts about mother, Jan and Terry declined. I pointed out that the cold I was experiencing had left me no with no voice, to which they commented, “Shut up!” I think there was more behind that “Shut up!” than a desire that I regain my voice. So here is what I said - in a deep baritone voice:

Few relationships are sacred. When God created things, He made parenting sacred. (See #5 of the Ten Secrets of the Spiritual Universe usually referred to as the Ten Commandments) We, LaVerne’s children know things we hope everyone realizes about our mother. - We speak of the home she created – everywhere she went - Austin, McCamey, Midland - Waco all the same pattern. She did it even in temporary locales like Lake Buchanan, Wimberley, Lake Austin, Big Bend, WMU house parties, and her children’s homes. Her hospitality and cooking invited a person to relax and . . . well, feel at home.
Jan, Terry and I remember dozens of our friends and near relatives that were commonly found at our mother’s table whether her “real” children could get a chair or not! Many of you here today are among those we consider as our brothers and sisters, though we noticed that YOU never had to wash the dishes or mow the grass.
It was not uncommon for us to come home to find the likes of Trey, Jay, Brad, David and Keith, OR LeeAnn, Kerry, Laura, Michelle, Sandra and Marc telling mother everything they knew while snacking on a spare pork chop, some pot roast or some other tasty treat – none of our “secrets” were safe from her ears – EVER. She was sly - this woman.
Candi, Pat, Katrina, and Karen found it comfortable to chat with mother while Jan changed clothes - again or talked to some boy on the phone, because it was entertaining and fun chatting with LaVerne while waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting . . . on Jan.
Brother Alan made reservations, bought tickets, chauffeured, visited, and told everything he knew to this woman he called his second mother. Then he enlisted his wife Barbara and daughters Alissa and Ashley to help. None of them had any difficulty taking her side in discussions while critiquing her sons and daughter.
Debby, Greg & Karen, found the feeling and comfort of home in her kitchen. Hampton, and Jim knew her support and walked right on in as freely as we. Diann, Robby, Glen, Jon, Carol, Ronnie all sought her advice.
Her warm hospitality crossed generations with the friends of her grandchildren like Brad and Justin who did Hunter’s work outside while Hunter and Matt sat at Mother’s counter munching chocolate pie and fudge, waiting for the work to end. Brittainy’s friends Andrea, Angela, Scott, Angie, Austin and Blair were more loyal to Brittainy than Jan’s friends had been. They kept quiet about Brittainy’s escapades despite their frequent visits to Mother’s kitchen.
Rachel, Erin and Zac brought complete strangers through the door for visits and of course the free food. People like Blair, their girl friends passing through Waco, and a bunch of 2nd Lieutenants from the USAF.
I think Gram, as the grandkids called her, slacked off her work of intelligence gathering from the friends of the grandkids. At least she never passed the dirt along to the parents – Jan and I. You know how grandmothers spoil grandkids rotten.
Relatives thought of her as their counselor and confidant. Michelle, Chuck, Bill Joe, Kip, Kyle, Joe Bill, Louisa, Nancy, Laura, Sarah, Billie, Russell, Jane, Joye, Jean, and some preacher guy from Virginia named Garry felt her encouragement in large doses. (They also came to “borrow” some of those wonderful recipes.)
They came in droves and then came back - over and over. Jan, Terry and I humbly figure they came because they wanted to learn what she did right as a parent that made us turned out so well! [PAUSE FOR BRYAN'S AMEN!] (Was that funny?) We are CERTAIN that is why our spouses Trey, Melinda and Carol sought her out!
But we really know they were drawn to LaVerne because she was always genuinely thrilled to see them. She allowed free conversation in a safe environment of acceptance. She knew how to encourage them to great achievements, kindness and wise decisions. She looked forward to the next time they would return or she could watch them perform again.
She saw us all through eyes that were altered; altered by the power of God in her heart. She saw what we all could be with the Spirit’s guidance, so she pointed us ALL to Jesus. She encouraged all who knew her - including her children, grandchildren, great grandchildren, in-laws and friends. Not always overtly, but always purposefully. Recently she did it despite great pain and her own discouragement. She remained faithful; - scoring points for God in that great contest mentioned in Job and Ephesians 3, II Kings 6 and Hebrews12.
So in a way, today we are all orphans of a sort. No more kitchen side sessions. No more Snacks (that may not be a bad thing) [Turn sideways and pat belly.] No more phone calls driving home from work every day or after working a day and a half on-duty at the hospital.
But we all have reason to rejoice. For Wednesday in the predawn silence (that means before Brittainy’s kids got up), as I considered this state of being an orphan, God filled my head with an image not of my making. I saw my mother in a young healthy body clasping hands with the 2 loves of her life, my dad and Jesus. They were dancing wildly (yeah, see? my dad dancing - I told you not of MY making) and they had their heads thrown back as they spun in a circle. And they were laughing uproariously with joy.
You see, by faith in God’s promises, now and into eternity, we are never orphans.