"Sometimes the Prize Goes to the Wrong Person" by Patricia E. Watts
For Father’s Day
– a chance in life
Abandoned to his own support as a child, he cleaned up, giving others better than he got.
Patricia E. Watts lives in Mountville, South Carolina where the love of local and family history has given her a passion to write stories to pass down to her children. She has found through stories of tragedies, tears, and triumphs and even mysteries that she has a rich heritage worth telling. Her story “A Real Small Town” appeared in the 2020 Personal Story Publishing Project, That Southern Thing.
Author’s Talk
For a long time, I have wanted to write a story about my dad, a story that would honor a man from the humblest of circumstances, a man who never resented those circumstances but instead was inspired by them. If I had to pick one word that I would use to describe him, it would be “compassionate.” If I had to pick something he wanted in life above and beyond all things this world has to offer, it would be a family of his own. He so wanted a family. He never had dreams of accolades or material blessings. His joy came from his family. He could never have found a wife that understood his childhood better than my mom. And she could never have found a husband more devoted to her for their 66 years together. As for their three children, they were his lifelong project, nurturing and teaching life lessons to both by example and by discipline. There was never anything but harmony in our household. His philosophy was: A household without discipline is just a circus. Believe me, his lessons were valuable, and they made his children who we are today.
Dad was a quiet man and a hard worker. He had the beautiful ambition to help the handicapped and the downtrodden. His delight was to see them fulfill personal goals they never thought possible. Their smiles and their joy as they realized their accomplishments were his reward.
As a life lesson for his children, he always carried in his wallet a card that taught sign language. And as young as five years old, he made us learn sign language. He said if we ever met someone who was deaf it would be selfish of us not to be able to greet them or interact with them. He still had that card in his wallet when he died at age 86.
I wish just one more time I could say “Happy Father’s Day” to the man I dearly loved, my inspiration, my dad, Howard Edgeman. - Patricia E. Watts
