I promise this won’t be a sad column, even though it’s been exactly four weeks and three days since my Dad last played any music or told any stories.
But I’ve learned an important lesson in his passing. Words matter.
Okay, obviously as a writer I’ve always known that, but I have experienced straightforward reinforcement that words can be healing — like aloe on a sunburned heart.
Healing words example No. 1: On Swartz Family Community Mortuary and Memorial Center’s website guestbook, I’ve read numerous times the words of my fellow writer-friend Joyce Long. “I could tell he (Frank) was not only an exemplary and fun-loving patriarch but also a person who loved people. He and his Lord share that. Well lived, Frank!” she wrote.
Healing words example No. 2: Andrea Richardson shared: “… whenever I talk about Frank to anyone who hasn’t met him, I tell them this story (my favorite story of him.) About 20 years ago while I was taking Grandma (Halene) down to the Farm for a visit, I saw Frank playing basketball out front with some teenagers. On our way in, I started giggling so Grandma asked what I was laughing about. I told her that I thought it was hysterical that Frank at 50 was running circles around those teenagers. To which she replied, ‘Frank is 70, honey.’ I couldn’t believe it. After I went in to greet Aunt Florence and Uncle Ralph, I went back out to watch 70-year-old Frank move faster and better than a 20-year-old. He was something special.”
A week ago, I received a condolence card in the mail. I was excited to see it was from the wife of my Dad’s Union High School basketball coach, but I will ashamedly admit that I was at first disappointed to read the card and see only a signature. My heart leaped when I spotted the folded one-page hand-written letter hidden behind the card. It read:
“I am so sorry of Frank’s passing and that I didn’t get to the funeral. O.J. and I loved the ‘Hommel Family.’ O.J. always said that ‘Mommie’ and Ralph made him a good coach. When he had a ‘Hommel’ on the team, he had a winning season. O.J.’s record was 149 wins and 89 losses.
Here is something I thought you would enjoy. In the basketball tournament in Franklin, Union was playing Clark and the score was tied. The poorest free throw shooter on Union was fouled, and O.J. called a timeout. When the boys came over to the huddle, Frank said, ‘O.J., can I shoot the free-throw?’ O.J. said, ‘Well, Frank, if you want to and can get by with it, do it.’ Frank stepped up to the free throw line. The referee never said a word. Frank made both the shots. We won the game and tournament.
After the game the principal of Clark (He was a good friend of O.J.’s) came over and said: ‘O.J., you would do anything to win a ballgame.’ O.J. said, ‘I can’t take credit for that, Frank wanted to shoot the ball, and asked me if he could and I said yes.’
Another night after ball practice, O.J. came home and shared, ‘When we scrimmage, I am going to have to put Frank and [younger brother] Don on the same team — if I don’t, I’m afraid they will injure each other. They were so competitive and put out all the time.’
I am 96 years old now. O.J. passed away 10 years ago and it is so good to have the fun memories of him and the Hommel family…
Frank was unique. The world today needs more Frank Hommels.
I hope you and your family are healthy and happy.
God bless you all.
Love,
Lorene Sloop”
Thank you, Mrs. Sloop, for reminding me that words matter. Thank you for taking the time to share your stories, making us smile and bringing joy to our hearts. Thank you for blessing the Hommel Family.
And may God bless you and the Sloop family!
Happy Father’s Day — now go make some memories or share some stories.
