“Come over here, John.” my dad said as he lay in his bed at MD Anderson Cancer Center and approached his last days with us.
Of course my cousin John dutifully obeyed. Even on his last days, when cancer had taken all of his strength and left him a shell of the man he once was, Sam McKnight still had a presence. As a friend of the family once said, “Alan, your dad is like the old commercial for EF Hutton; when he talks, people listen.”
John came over to the bed, next to his Uncle Sam.
“John, you better not screw it up,” he said in the same voice that he used to provide me with “do-better” talks as a teenager.
I should probably mention that my cousin John doesn’t screw things up. Even 20 years ago, he was an accomplished lawyer and great father. He was basically everything you would hope for in a son or nephew. Nevertheless, his Uncle Sam wasn’t going to mince words.
“We haven’t worked this hard and this long for you all to screw up the partnership. I’ll be watching you from up there, so you better make it work,” he finished. So much for the hand holding and tender comments of most individual’s last days. My dad was going out on the same terms as he had lived his life by, and he wanted to make sure he got the final word before cancer took him.
I should probably back up a bit. My great-great grandparents started a ranch in Fredonia, TX in 1875. Through their hard work and fortitude, the next four generations of my family were blessed with an amazing property, i.e. the partnership, in the heart of Texas. While the property and the ranch house are great, the real benefit of the ranch is how it keeps the family together.
About a month ago, I had the the pleasure of spending the weekend with my uncles, cousins, sister, nieces and nephew to talk about the ranch. Before this family meeting, I had never heard this story about my dad. It took the family meeting for it to come out, and it was just one of the many stories and discussions that made the weekend so wonderful.
The McKnights are a special breed. To our benefit (or detriment depending on the timing), honesty and forthrightness hold the day. No subject is off limits and a meeting that is scheduled for 2 hours ends up taking 4-5 hours. The accompanying cocktail hours, lunches and dinners are epic in their length. They bring great laughter, and sometimes tears, but they are never dull. While this fact can drive of us all crazy at times, I always come away appreciative of the time spent with my family.
Through wars (Spanish-American, WWI and II, Korea...), depressions, and family arguments (too numerous to count), the family and the Ranch have stayed together. Because as my dad always told me, “blood is thicker than water, Alan. Family comes first. You may not always like them, but you always have to love them.”
So when your uncle calls your dad late one night because hard times have hit again, you watch as he immediately throws clothes in a bag and gets in the car to drive 7 hours to pick up his youngest brother. When the same uncle threatens to jump out of the car rather than getting the treatment he has needed for many years, your dad tells him, “Go right ahead, Lea, but I’m not stopping the car.” The door opens momentarily, before reality sets in for the youngest of five raised in the west Texas town of San Angelo (The same city that Melanie once remarked, as we were flying in for her first visit, “Alan, why would anyone choose to live out here?”) and the door closes.
Don’t get me wrong. It’s definitely not all serious. As my Uncle Joe (86 years old and after 55 years still teaching at SMU law school) casually mentioned at dinner over the weekend, “Alan, have you told Ellery the story of her namesake and President Lincoln?”
Not knowing if I should be excited or concerned, I said, “why no Uncle Joe, I’m not even sure what you’re talking about.”
“Well, I’m sure it’s more a statement about how little Presidents did in those days,” he quipped, “but after having voted for Lincoln in the Republican national convention, your great-great grandfather Webb asked to bring his young son down to meet the new President. The President remarkably agreed. So Moses and George Ellery Webb made the trip down to Washington from their home in New Jersey. After arriving and making a brief introduction, the President looked to the young boy, and said, how’d you like a horsey ride? And in short order, great-grandfather Webb was up on the President’s boot getting a ride!”
I must have looked astonished, as my uncle followed up with,”I can’t believe you never heard that story. It was one of Grandfather Webb’s favorites. Of course, you really must wonder what Presidents were being paid to do...”
So girls, what do all these stories and ramblings mean? It means cherish and appreciate it all, the good and the bad. Soak up all that you have and the precious time that you have with your family. Find comfort in the fact that you want to cry when you have to leave Nason, Julia, Andrew, Katie, and Mary Helen after a week together in Fredonia. Be thankful for all your uncles and aunts, the cousins, the most wonderful grandparents in the world in Gagi and PopPop, the sisters, and just maybe some day, the parents. For someone who had his dad, who was his best friend, and his mom, who devoted her life to her children, taken altogether too soon, I can only say be thankful.
For all other readers this Sunday, Happy Easter!
