MARY KRELL-OISHI

MARY KRELL-OISHI

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MRS. K-O'S FATHER
May 30, 1929 - June 16, 2000
I have so many memories of my father. They play like a library of film clips in my mind. Little snippets of things he would do or say, some very funny, some so politically incorrect today that he could probably be sued, which would explain a lot of my own twisted sense of humor. Most of my memories, though, deal with him as a husband and father. I was dad's favorite. How do I know this? Because he actually had a song he sang to me. Mary Googala, with the goo goo googly eyes. He called me Goog. It has been so long since I heard that nickname, that I almost forgot it myself. I think that's when I knew he was losing his memory, when he stopped calling me "Goog," and would just smile happily when he saw me.
He gave me more than he ever knew. He gave me the basis for marriage, he gave me the foundation on which to raise my own son, and he gave me my career. The first two wouldn't surprise him at all, because that is what he was trying to do, set an example. Of how to live a good life. That last, though, would take him back a bit, I am sure.
Think how it must have been for this athletic man, this 5' 8" man who loved nothing more to run around, shoot hoops, bat the ball, to have all girls. But then he sees me. Growing and growing and growing....and growing. Almost to 6 feet tall. Then imagine his dismay to see this amazon of a daughter with the co-ordination of a gooney bird. In fact, he used to laugh when I was young, saying I was just like one. Sitting still, they are lovely graceful birds. The minute they move they trip over lint. That was me. He spent the better part of my childhood trying to teach me to catch a ball...a dismal failure. To ride a bike...I can show all of you the scars on my knees later, to shoot a hoop...that involved running which in turn led to sweat. I don't sweat. I don't even glisten. So, I am sure, he wondered, what the hell is this girl going to be good at? Then, by some miracle, in my senior year of high school I got the lead in the play. And he came to see it. I will never forget the look of stunned admiration on his face. He couldn't believe it. This kind of outlet had never occurred to him as something I could do, and there I was. I remember being downstage, him hugging me and looking at me with wonder and joy and I thought, "I can do this the rest of my life if it makes him this happy." And it did. It did. From that moment, I knew what I would do. So, for the joy it brought my father I was able to take something that started as a casual pastime and make it a passion. My dad made it possible for me to work with kids and whatever I am able to give to them, is all based on that foundation back in October of 1970 when he looked at me with such happiness.
So, too, did he give me a foundation to build a marriage. I am sure having three teenage pre-menstrual girls in the family with a menopausal wife all under the same roof was not his idea of a day at the beach. One day in particular Janice was whining about my mom's rules about some silly thing, Kris was arguing with my mom about curfews, I was quietly sitting at the table like the perfect child I was. Well, no, I was probably seething silently, as is my way, about something I didn't like that mom was doing. All of us were in an estrogen driven chaos. Suddenly my mom says, "Fine, if I am so horrible, I can just leave." At that point my father raised his voice over the female shrieks and said, "That's it!!" We were all stunned into silence. "I'm telling you girls this right now," he said. "I love you all. You are the most important people in my life. But, your mother is the most important. If anyone leaves it will be you. Mom's not going anywhere. Your mom and I are here forever, together. Now be quiet and eat, dammit." Well, let me tell you that shocked us all into silence. But it also was wonderful to hear. No matter what ever happened, we always knew that mom and dad would be together, forever. He loved her with such a deep abiding never-ending love. I knew that's what I wanted. To be loved, adored, thought of as perfect. That's why I thought I'd never marry, because who could possibly live up to my own father? The day I brought home Harris, I knew I made the right choice. The few guys I had brought to the house had been taken to the basketball courts for the ultimate test. Dad had run several young males into the ground, crushing them with his speed, coordination and vicious sense of competition. Oh, the times he had, humiliating young men ½ his age. What glee he took in destroying these guys who dared to challenge him for his daughter. And then came Harris. Oh, they played, and dad crushed him in the first game. 15 to 0 I believe. Then Harris got wise to dad's game, and proceeded to crush dad for the next several games. Well, they came home, laughing, towel snapping, very testosterone. And dad came in to me and said, "I don;t know where you're going if you two break up, but he's moving in here." And he meant more than just the basketball game. He meant that Harris was someone he approved of, that could keep up with me and could probably hold me in check...at least he would try. And the day we got married, that look he had back in October of 1970 was there again. Proud, happy, and not a little stunned that I had done so well.
The day my baby was born was the happiest day, I think, in his life. I am sure he thought it would be another girl. But, no, the child was male. And we named him Richard, after him. When mom told him, he actually cried. Why would he, though? The most perfect child in the world was to be named after the most perfect dad in the world. And I am so lucky. Because my son Rick has my dad's green eyes. And everyday I can look in those beautiful green eyes and see my dad's wicked sense of humor, his joy for living, and see in those eyes the great love he has to give. Of the three of his children, I am the luckiest. For the past years, whenever I have missed my dad, I could look into the eyes of my wonderful son and see my wonderful father.
My dad never climbed a mountain, never saved a child from a burning building. He worked the same job with the same company for 40 years and took care of his girls and loved his wife. Some people might say he led a small life. But he didn't. He taught his daughters how to love, to be caring, to laugh, to share joy with others. For every life that Janice, Kristy or I have touched, those lives, too have been touched by my father for the example he gave us. He was the true definition of what a hero is. We are the luckiest family on earth.

So, you want your own copy of my books?

Here are the titles:
SCENES THAT HAPPEN
MORE SCENES THAT HAPPEN
PERSPECTIVES
HIGH SCHOOL; IT'S A CONCEPT
RIM OF THE WORLD
You can order my books from Contemporary Drama Services/Meriwether Publishing

SCRIPTS I'VE WRITTEN. They are copywrited. Please e-mail me for royalty information. Samples from each can be read if you click on the title,

Listen to the Silence--a 10 minute play about censorship 5 person cast, flexible

Piazza del Adoro--A prologue and two act play based on a commedia dell'arte one act. Very funny!! 7 men, 7 women, small ensemble if desired

The Birthday Party--Dramatic 15 minute play, 2 women A play about choices.

Going to the Top--Dramatic 10 minute play 2 people Dark Comedy about fear and misconceptions

Hostage--Dramatic 10 minute play, 1 man 1 woman A short play about revenge.

Bittersweet--Serio-Comedy, two acts, 2 men, 3 women one set. A play about the transitions between growing up and being an adult.

A Lunatic's Dream---Dramatic, two acts, 8 women, 7 men, 2 extras. A play about fighting for what we believe in.