Birth date: Aug 15, 1938 Death date: Mar 22, 2016
Charles R. "Bob" Jackson, 77 years old, died March 22, 2016 at his home surrounded by his family after an extended illness. The former Muncie resident moved to Weslaco, Texas 10 years ago with wife, Karen K. Hoover Jackson, and th Read Obituary
Wow! There's so much I still didn't know about Bob's life. What a tribute. (Cousin Harriet)
My Memorial Tribute to My Dad, Bob Jackson
We are here to today to celebrate and honor the man who was my dad. And the best and only way to do that is to tell you how much I love and appreciate him still. I realize how blessed I was to have him as a father and inherit those good traits, and sometimes even the bad because they were not that bad.
My dad was a big, sweet, self-assured man whose big personality filled the room. He was memorable to most people who met him only once. My dad was devoted to his girls - me, my sister and my mom (and also my late maternal grandmother when we all lived together….and I might as well mention our family dog, Bo, who he also spoiled.) and still had time to be extremely dedicated to his job, or lend help or a laugh to cheer someone up. Dad used to say that his late best friend and co-worker Gibb Slaven told everybody at work, "You can't believe how those girls boff Jackson around like a big old teddy bear over there." Yeah, he was wrapped around our fingers, but also tough enough to supervise a power plant.
Growing up, my dad was usually home by early evening, sitting in his chair, reading the paper, or watching the evening news. If he wasn’t doing that, he would be spending time with his girls playing games or listening to music, usually country. In the evening, we would all have dinner together at the kitchen table - then by bedtime you could hear my parents talking to each other about anything and everything as if they hadn't seen each other for a week. On Saturdays, dad usually would get up early and make pancakes. On Sundays, during the warmer months, Dad would spend most of the day outside â€" he loved being on a tractor gardening, and if he couldn’t do that, he would do yard work; sometimes he would have me do little chores like help gather leaves or use the weed whacker. I never minded and I had a chance to spend “quality time†with him â€" as he would say to me as an inside joke.
My dad's parenting style may be best described as a cross between Ward Cleaver and Dan Connor. Whenever I had doubts about my abilities or something in life, he was always there with reassuring words, a joke to cheer me up or a big hug. I remember the night before starting college, being nervous if I could find my way around; my dad assured me by the end of the week that I would know the place like the back of my hand. And he was right. He and I were pals and buddies, too. He loved to go out and do things â€" before his back problems, he rode his motorcycle everywhere up until his late fifties. Even in his declining health before he was bed bound, he was always ready to go on a midnight Whataburger run or to Wal-Mart shopping.
For the past few years, my dad required oxygen when he slept. Every night I put on his oxygen and tucked him into bed. The complete reversal of our roles had happened as parent/child - yet he was the one still telling the stories - just stories about his life rather than bed time stories. Although it can be a difficult task at times to help an aging parent, I cherish every moment I had with him â€" he shared so much of his life with me in those years â€" stories of his childhood, his heartbreaks until he met my mom, his fun times before he met my mom ( I’m just joking like dad!), the places around the US and Okinawa he travelled while in the Air Force, and the jobs he had. He also told me all those same jokes over again throughout the years. Even if with all the time I had with him, it wasn’t enough. I will always remember that last time I tucked him in and kissed him goodnight. I miss him dearly and he will always be in my heart. Rest in peace, my darling father, from your little baby girl, your little baby daughter.
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Thank you, Bob Todd, for the kind words.
Thank you so much for sharing, Bob. You hold a special place in our hearts.
I remember very well when he was airlifted to Methodist Hospital and was in critical condition. He battled back from a very bad experience. Bob was a fighter and loved his family.
