Mickey Morris

Today, October 9, would have been my father's 80th birthday. What can I say about my champion?

He was the youngest of three children of Wallace Elmer Morris & Marie Hauerwas. He was a devoted husband and father. For several years he had to travel a great deal for work. It was hard on all of us, but it was very important to him that later we knew, especially my brother, he had always been faithful to my mother when he was away.

He delighted in finding gifts for my mother. He would buy them almost all year long, and wrap each one of them up for Christmas. He would pick up the presents from under the tree and very gently weigh it, rock it and see if he knew what it was.

I remember speech lessons with my father. I had had recurring tonsilitis from very early (6 weeks old) until they were removed when I was about 3 or 4. Evidently this problem had caused some difficulty with pronouncing certain sounds. I can remember one of these speech lessons quite clearly. I had come in from playing outside and asked if I could have a "piece of tate" (cake). I didn't get my piece of cake, or go back out to play for quite some time. I sat on the footstool between my father's knees as he taught me to pronounce words correctly. He wasn't harsh, just firm.

In the Fall of 1990, when my older son was just a baby, Daddy was diagnosed with Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, or Lou Gehrig's Disease. It is a terrible affliction. Normally, those who suffer from ALS die 3-5 years after diagnosis, but Daddy died only 21 months later.

Some Mickey-isms:
--If you don't ask, you only have one answer.
--To screw a lid, or a faucet cap on, start by screwing it backwards until it finds its groove, then it will go on easily.
--Use your elbow grease when you sweep (or do any chore).
--If I ever stop being a boy, I will be dead.

Thanks be to God for Mickey Morris!