He was not the best father, a father's lament

Dad, Jerry and I,  Manzano Mountains, 1950s

But he was the only one I had.
 Neither am I, but I have tried.

Terrence Miller Clark, 1914-1973.

I've written about him a lot, the talented artist with a wooden leg, coming up out of the dirt poor Oklahoma Depression and red clay town of Comanche, Oklahoma, the oldest of five boys, all of whom fled that town to become successes. 
He could draw before he could walk, I think, and I have so many questions I'd like answered. You never asked as a child, and if it weren't for stories from my now late Uncle Mike, I'd know a lot less.
I want to know more about hopping the freight train that cost him his leg in Tucumcari in 1933. I want to know more about his playing football. I want to know more about his art. I want to study art with him. I want to know what his favorite drink was. I want stories of his teen years and 20s. Alas.
He was incredibly talented as an artist, but he had many flaws...an awful temper, an overbearing selfishness, a wandering eye...and more.

Easter Sunday, Albuquerque

I spent a good portion of my life trying not to follow in those steps, but I too have many flaws and failures, but I've really tried to be a good father, providing for my children, being respectable, being loving. I think he had more excuses, or reasons, for his shortcomings than I do mine, but as I get older the genes and art have kicked in and I know I treasure his influence, his life. He had hard-won guts, even speaking out loudly in church in one Sunday sermon, telling a preacher, "You're wrong."
I see so many posts this weekend from wonderful people saluting their fathers, as the best fathers ever. I am touched, and envious, and guilty, I guess. 
Keep posting those photos, keep mentioning those memories. Keep telling your fathers how great they are, regardless of flaws. You are so fortunate. My wife, with parents in their '80's, says it's hard to believe my parents have been so long gone.
I am not the best father...but I am so thankful my children and grandchildren still love me. All these years later, I'm in his debt, even with his many flaws.
My brother Jerry has commented that I should attempt a family history. That stumps me in many ways, but as I looked back at the previous posts on our father on this blog, maybe I've started.
Consider these articles:

My dad had a wooden leg 
Fathers' Day in black and white 
Fathers' day musings 
Pages from beyond death 
Pages from the past 
Ghosts from the past 
A spooky view of the past 
When iris bloom 
Forbidden art from long ago 
Of time and mortality 
Sitting still, portraits in time 
100 years ago and more 

Father's day musings

Dad's art surrounded us, including our beds

I can't remember my Dad not painting or drawing, but time has erased most specific memories, and I'm thankful for black and white photos from the old family albums. As I get older I'm more thankful for them, and also realize that Father's day is also about your siblings. My brother Jerry and I are six years apart, and we've grown closer as the years go by, in spite of geographic distance. Our parents are long gone, but we have Dad, and Mom, together. I think there needs to be a Brother's Day.
I've misplaced a couple of photos that are important to me...my Dad looking through the hospital window at me, and one of Jerry and I doing dishes. I don't know that Dad was a very good Dad, when it comes down to it, though we were well provided fort...he was very selfish, temperamental, a consumed artist. There were no excuses. People would just say, "Oh, he's an artist." Now as a father, I hope I've been a better father, and I've tried to be, and will be more remembered fondly by my children. I do know that genes run deep, and I've helped impart the same spirit of independence and backbone I earned from Dad, and Mom. The main lesson I would pass on to fathers is, "You have no more important job than being a father."

A rare photo of my Mother and her Dad

When the world was young, in Dallas

Favorite pix of two brothers

At the cabin in the Manzanos

We had fun

Art was part of our lives

Handsome?

Clarks--Erle Thweatt, Terrence Miller, Terry Michael

Dad, Jerry and I at his college graduation at LCC

Coming full circle, Dad and Vance Conrad Clark, at Whitesboro, Tex., a long time ago.