Remembering A Father, A Husband, A Friend

Today is the birthday of my wife's father, Dr. Fred Turner. He was born on this date back in 1942 and would be turning 64 today if he were still here with us. However, he passed away in 2000 very suddenly one night on his way home from karate practice. I can remember it so vividly. I was home alone with Kaitlyn, who was a little over 2 years old at the time, and Jennifer was on call at the hospital there in Columbia. We got a phone call from Fred's wife, Tricia, that he had collapsed and was being taken from Mtn. Home AR to Springfield MO.

Immediately, I called Jennifer and began to pack. Within less than 45 minutes, she was home, the car was feverishly packed and we were speeding down Hwy 65 toward Springfield. It was at least a 3 hour drive from Columbia and the miles & minutes literally creeped by.

I can remember getting to the hospital somewhere around 2am. I waited in the parking lot for my grandparents (I had called them on the way to see if they could meet us to take Kaitlyn to the hotel) while Jennifer rushed inside to meet Tricia. Once I got inside, I found them huddled together and that sick feeling in my stomach hit me. I can recall that sensation of knowing something bad was happening and with all the medical staff & equipment surrounding us, there wasn't anything we could do to help Fred.

He'd suffered a brain aneurism which had caused him to pass out and eventually never regain consciousness. Fred was one of those guys who, in his early 50's at the time, could literally give Sly Stallone a run for his money. He was fit, he was healthy, he was strictly disciplined in what he ate and how he voraciously trained. Yet now, here he was, lying on a hospital bed on a ventilator. Even in that state, his muscles rippled and tensed. He looked like he should have been able to open his eyes, pull the tubes out of his mouth and get up. I kept expecting him to sit up and give us all that warm, charming and heartfelt smile as he stood up and bowed to all of us in the room, like he always did in his "dojo" at home.

But that was not going to happen. For all intents & purposes, he was gone. The machine was keeping him alive yet as "alive" as he appeared to be, he would not ever come back.

It wasn't too long after we arrived that Jennifer's sister Kristin got there. She and her family had traveled up from Northern Texas to be there. I was happy to see the girls and Tricia get to spend some alone time together with Fred. Of course, I would have no idea the struggles, grief and pain each of them must've been feeling at that moment. I knew how much I hurt, for all of them and also for losing someone like Fred, but who can say the pain they had to have been experiencing as they saw their father, their husband, lying there on that bed.

My wife was struggling to keep calm, going back & forth from "daughter" mode to "doctor" mode. I think the "doctor" mode helped her deal with her grief, at least there in public. It also enabled her to translate to us what the prognosis was. Basically, because Fred was so strong and in such good shape, his body was beginning to fight as best it could to regain control. What this meant, however, was that if he was able to begin breathing again on his own, he would still never regain consciousness and remain in a permanent vegetative state. This was something he had made perfectly clear he never wanted to become.

So a decision had to be made...and it was.

He went to sleep peacefully, leaving behind a loving and wonderful wife and two absolutely beautiful, stunning and successful daughters who to this very day, continue to live their lives in a way that reflects his strong commitment to family. That was one thing he told Jennifer (in essence)as she was completing her med school residency...

"Don't worry about the money or the time you spend at the hospital. Focus on the quality of life with your family, not the quantity of money you can make. Money is temporary...family is forever."

I really admired and loved Fred myself. Without going too much into my upbringing, Fred was the kind of dad I so desperately wanted. Outgoing, manly, interested in your life, concerned for your well-being, confident enough to let you be an adult. I never had a father like that (although I did receive that love & support from my grandfather and who I looked up to like my father) so when I met Fred and realized that his daughter and I were going to become one, I was thrilled to be joining this family. I was excited to see how one day our kids would go out to Granddad & Grandma Turner's farm and play with the dogs, look at the deer in the bottom of Granpa's fields, ride the 4-wheeler and go shoot guns.

Hey...this is Arkansas. It's what we do. LOL

Fred accepted me into "the fold" and we began all kinds of silly nuances only a father-in-law and his son-in-law can develop. Most notably, our names for each other.

Stallone 1 and Stallone 2.

Yeah, I know. Hick. But I didn't even get to the pose-down, flex offs we'd have to impress the women. Considering Tricia and Jennifer still married us, it must have worked. I look back at when Jennifer & I first started dating (almost 20 years ago) and what I first thought of him. Fred was a highly skilled black belt in the martial arts and had a literal wall of weapons that greeted you in the exercise room. Staffs, sais, nunchuks, swords, punching bags and the finishing touch, especially for all the teenage boys interested in dating Jen & Kris...

a large pile of broken cinder blocks, busted in half by Fred's hands of iron now laying in a heap of rubble. It was almost like it said "this could be your skull, son". I think it's a good sign for all dads to have when their baby girls start dating those nasty boys.

I don't think I even thought about kissing Jennifer for quite a while. Does 2 hours count as "quite a while"?

Fred was also an avid Harley Davidson enthusiast. In fact, he and Tricia would annually hop on their Hawg and ride it up to Sturgis for the big biker weekend. It was always a sight to see them come back looking all weathered, tanned and unshaven. Jennifer was stunned one time to see him come riding in wearing a jean vest but no shirt and a four day growth of whiskers all over his face. Awww yeah, he was "Harley Man".

Then there were the gun weekends where Jennifer and I would come home from Little Rock and go shooting a bunch of his guns out in his field. It was always more interesting because Fred would either hang posters of "burglars" on trees for us to shoot at OR he'd dress up some stuffed dummies, put sticks in their hands as "weapons" and we'd have to "protect ourselves" from these intruders.

Deer stands still sit in perches across his massive acreage, waiting for that one big buck to come up from the creek. We'd hear stories after stories about how he'd be out in the stands, ready to make a kill on a 6 point buck when all of a sudden, Copper-dog would come bounding through the weeds, scaring Bambi off. But, as evident by looking around their home, Fred was very successful on the big hunts. Stuffed bears, mounted deer heads and bearskin rugs adorn the walls and floors of Casa del Turner. He tried to get us to take one of his black bears home for Kaitlyn's room but Jennifer said absolutely not.

Sheesh! Talk about close-minded. She just doesn't have "the vision". LOL

Or the weekends at the races in Hot Springs...the games at Razorback stadium followed by the traditional dinner at A-Q...the Christmas tree "selections" (a funny tradition I'll talk about some other time)...the planning of our schedules at the U of A which began with a reading of the school's course catalog.

"OK Jennifer, let's begin deciding what you'll be when you grow up. We'll start with the letter 'a'. 'Agronomy'. Not interested? Ok, let's move on."

He was extremely powerful and strong yet always had a quiet, sensitive, caring nature about him. He never blew up, never yelled in anger, never slammed his fists in frustration and I never ever saw him disrespect anyone.

There are so many memories and so many great times. I know we all miss him dearly for so many reasons but we have several pictures of Fred hanging around our home.

The one that means the most to us though is one that Tricia gave us for Christmas last year. It is a picture of Fred's silhouette on top of a bluff with his arms outstretched to either side. It seems as if he's standing on the threshold between an earthly existence and a lifetime in Heaven, beckoning us to come on up and join him. It's a picture that brought tears to our eyes when we first got it and still to this day makes us choke up.

We know he lives on through his wife, his daughters and his family. We can feel him and "see" him still in our lives in so many ways.

Happy Birthday Fred. We love you, we miss you and can't wait to come on up to join you.