Obituary for Jeffery Scott Cummings
I’m definitely not worried about finding the right words to commemorate my dad but it’s still just mind blowing that I’m even in the position to have to. I’m also not looking for any additional motivation to pen this thing perfectly, but I decided to start up Lynard Skynard’s Second Helping album and grab a bud light anyways to get on my Jeff-vibe. As his only son, I know we had a more unique relationship than anyone else who may be reading this but still, where do you start with something like this? So, as the guitar riff opens up to “Sweet Home Alabama” and the condensation slides slowly down this beer can, I’m gently reminded of the commonality that we all, most likely, shared with him, a damn good time. I know from his stories, your stories, and my own personal experiences that Jeff Cummings loved a good get together with friends old and new, music cranked loud, and a cooler full of cold beer. Seriously, how many of you sat in the garage or on a tailgate in the driveway and watched that blue-eyed man laugh and drink and just felt...happy? I’m going to sit and enjoy this track alone for a minute.
These are the times I will miss the most. But as my dad it was so much more than just a beer and a joke. And as I slowly reflect and think “The Ballad of Curtis Loew” comes on and seems an appropriate transition to get more personal. (For those of you who were not blessed with a classic rock instructor as a father, this particular song is about a young boy who’s obsessed with an old man who plays music in exchange for spare change to buy booze) To state it simply, dad taught me everything and it’s safe to say I had some obsessive periods with him myself. From learning how/when to use four-wheel drive, grilling a ribeye, skiing and wakeboarding, nailing a bank shot in the driveway HORSE competition, hand washing your truck, restringing a weed eater (definitely took me more than one try, but dad always got it on the first attempt) vacuuming in perfectly even rows, and how to make your grocery list follow the aisles of the store for maximum efficiency. I could go on and on...kinda like Freebird, whenever that track comes up. Different album but I’m thinking we’re gonna shuffle some tracks here shortly. We did it all and we did it together. He always let me tag along. Anywhere. And we were happy. Some of the best memories I have with him are at the lake and at the pool in the summertime. Classic Jeff mental image coming at you: gold framed Ray Ban aviators, US Flag swim trunks, gold chain with cross hanging over the forest of chest hair, and he’s coming in hot to jump in with his famous can opener and splash everyone around. God, those were the best summers. I’m getting another beer.
In thinking about those warm Texas summers and our memorable times, I’m also reminded of our countless Saturdays on the baseball diamond and at the soccer fields. There were consecutive seasons throughout my childhood, where I would need to be at baseball practice on Monday and Wednesday, with soccer practice on Tuesday and Thursday. All to play back-to-back games all day Saturday. Dad never missed a practice nor a game. Seriously. Never. And while that memory speaks for itself and allowed me to meet some of my (still) current lifelong friends, it wasn’t until later in my young adulthood that I realized how challenging of a commitment all of that can be for a working father and husband. But he did. Consistently. Man, those were fun days. And to those of you who know my dad, you know of his fierce loyalty to Auburn football... that same guy sacrificed Saturday after Saturday and missed how many Auburn football games to spend the day coaching from the dugout and cheering from the sidelines? Wow. That’s a loyalty and love that I now only understand as a father myself and I can’t wait to replicate these treasured memories with my three boys. Thank you, Dad.
You know, my dad didn’t just teach me “skills” and how to accomplish certain tasks, there was also this other category of teachings (aside from being educated on who the actual kings of classic rock are and how to balance an equalizer while hooking up 7.2 surround sound) that I would call life lessons. For example, his mentality was always “don’t buy the cheap stuff, buy the good one up front, that way you only have to buy it once” and that’s what we did. I never wanted for nothin’ growing up and had a childhood that most would dream of. Dad always put mom first and made that clear to everyone; in doing that, things just organically seemed to always work out. Always. These are just some of the simpler lessons that take time and maturity to truly understand how impactful they can be, but Dad’s consistency is what helped drive it home. Taking care of your stuff and taking care of your people are things that I will always do and pass along to my boys over the course of life, so thank you, Dad.
I’ve asked myself recently, “what am I supposed to do without you?” But I find deep satisfaction in knowing that I’ll be just fine because you’ve taught me everything I needed to know in order to be my own man. This Bud’s for you, old man. I love you. And I can’t quite explain how bad I am going to miss you.
These are the times I will miss the most. But as my dad it was so much more than just a beer and a joke. And as I slowly reflect and think “The Ballad of Curtis Loew” comes on and seems an appropriate transition to get more personal. (For those of you who were not blessed with a classic rock instructor as a father, this particular song is about a young boy who’s obsessed with an old man who plays music in exchange for spare change to buy booze) To state it simply, dad taught me everything and it’s safe to say I had some obsessive periods with him myself. From learning how/when to use four-wheel drive, grilling a ribeye, skiing and wakeboarding, nailing a bank shot in the driveway HORSE competition, hand washing your truck, restringing a weed eater (definitely took me more than one try, but dad always got it on the first attempt) vacuuming in perfectly even rows, and how to make your grocery list follow the aisles of the store for maximum efficiency. I could go on and on...kinda like Freebird, whenever that track comes up. Different album but I’m thinking we’re gonna shuffle some tracks here shortly. We did it all and we did it together. He always let me tag along. Anywhere. And we were happy. Some of the best memories I have with him are at the lake and at the pool in the summertime. Classic Jeff mental image coming at you: gold framed Ray Ban aviators, US Flag swim trunks, gold chain with cross hanging over the forest of chest hair, and he’s coming in hot to jump in with his famous can opener and splash everyone around. God, those were the best summers. I’m getting another beer.
In thinking about those warm Texas summers and our memorable times, I’m also reminded of our countless Saturdays on the baseball diamond and at the soccer fields. There were consecutive seasons throughout my childhood, where I would need to be at baseball practice on Monday and Wednesday, with soccer practice on Tuesday and Thursday. All to play back-to-back games all day Saturday. Dad never missed a practice nor a game. Seriously. Never. And while that memory speaks for itself and allowed me to meet some of my (still) current lifelong friends, it wasn’t until later in my young adulthood that I realized how challenging of a commitment all of that can be for a working father and husband. But he did. Consistently. Man, those were fun days. And to those of you who know my dad, you know of his fierce loyalty to Auburn football... that same guy sacrificed Saturday after Saturday and missed how many Auburn football games to spend the day coaching from the dugout and cheering from the sidelines? Wow. That’s a loyalty and love that I now only understand as a father myself and I can’t wait to replicate these treasured memories with my three boys. Thank you, Dad.
You know, my dad didn’t just teach me “skills” and how to accomplish certain tasks, there was also this other category of teachings (aside from being educated on who the actual kings of classic rock are and how to balance an equalizer while hooking up 7.2 surround sound) that I would call life lessons. For example, his mentality was always “don’t buy the cheap stuff, buy the good one up front, that way you only have to buy it once” and that’s what we did. I never wanted for nothin’ growing up and had a childhood that most would dream of. Dad always put mom first and made that clear to everyone; in doing that, things just organically seemed to always work out. Always. These are just some of the simpler lessons that take time and maturity to truly understand how impactful they can be, but Dad’s consistency is what helped drive it home. Taking care of your stuff and taking care of your people are things that I will always do and pass along to my boys over the course of life, so thank you, Dad.
I’ve asked myself recently, “what am I supposed to do without you?” But I find deep satisfaction in knowing that I’ll be just fine because you’ve taught me everything I needed to know in order to be my own man. This Bud’s for you, old man. I love you. And I can’t quite explain how bad I am going to miss you.