As I was sitting and relaxing for a little bit recently, I was reflecting on those people who have impacted me most in life.
One that came to mind immediately was my grandfather on my mother’s side of the family. His official name was Dr. H.J. Lynch, DC, who was a practicing chiropractor for more than 60 years.
We called him “Doc.” That’s what everyone in the family, and most others, affectionately called him.
In early December of 1984, he suffered an aortic aneurysm and was rushed to the hospital. For those in the medical profession who might read this, please don’t be quick to criticize that medical term because that’s what I was told.
I was in Galveston with some community leaders from Shawnee who were trying to bring a business to that city which would have impacted the area.
We were eating lunch and the waitress said I had an emergency call. It was my wife informing me of what had happened.
When the group returned to Shawnee that night, my wife and I immediately drove to the OKC hospital. He was hooked up to a ventilator that night and couldn’t see or hear us. He would remain that way for three weeks until he passed on the final day of 1984, six days after his 87th birthday.
It was a sad New-Year’s Eve, but, as I was reflecting recently, he had lived a full life. He had given much to many people, not in terms of money, but in other ways.
I was so fortunate to have been blessed to be the oldest of his 19 grandchildren. After my biological mother had passed away when I was 3 ½ years old, he took me under his wing.
It was Doc who recorded my mother’s final words to me on the eve of her death, “Good night baby doll.”
My dad’s work took him on the road quite a bit.
But that didn’t really matter. I was drawn to my grandfather from the start, I guess, and spent as much time being around him as possible.
He taught me how to fish, and we went fishing as often as possible. He loved baseball, and he could throw with either arm. We played catch frequently, we watched Dizzy Dean and Pee Wee Reese on the weekends and when I started playing ball, he was there to watch me.
My dad coached me for many years, so Doc got to watch when he could.
When I was young, I stayed with him on weekends when possible. We’d stay up and watch TV, have long talks. I loved being around him.
When we went to my Uncle Hal’s acreage on Sunday afternoons, it was on a dirt road and he’d let me get in his lap and steer the car on the “dirty road.” The time I got to spend with him was priceless.
Family, bar none, was most important to Doc. If I have a regret, it’s only that as I grew older into an adult that I didn’t spend more time with this man who had such an impact on my life.
As I look back, though, I am sure he loved me and I loved him. Thanks for Doc for being such an important part of my life.