My Dad's birthday is coming up the 18th. He will be 89 years old. It is hard to fathom just what that means. He is not in the best of health and we have no idea how long he will be living so it makes you want to hold onto every moment you have with him.
I realize that life is short and now that I am older, I think about it more. I'm not trying to be negative but positive. I would like to celebrate the person my dad has been to me. Sure he wasn't perfect and neither am I. But he has done many things right in his lifetime. A very caring person, he married my mother first of all. Born the sixth child of seven children. The fifth son, but one of his brothers died at a little over a year old. So he grew up with three brothers and two sisters.
He worked very hard as a young man on the farm to help his father. They had grains, animals and some crops like potatoes etc. A religious family of German Baptist origin, they were very devout. My grandmother was very strict. His faith was very important to him.
Through the church, he met my mother and after a year of college, they decided to get married. They both regretted the decision to marry and not finish college. I heard about this all my life. I believe that I was going to college from the day I was born. Needless to say that all my brothers and sisters and I graduated from the same college. Encouraged and motivated by my parents, we all paid our own way through, but mom and dad promoted that innate drive within us.
Dad was my Sunday School teacher in my youth class. I can remember as long as I was in class on Sunday morning, I could discuss anything with him, but the minute we arrived home, I was not permitted to discuss it any longer. It was interesting. I knew he loved me, but don't remember as a child ever hearing him saying it to me. He did play with us on the floor and played games with us. He liked to play cards. He was highly competitive. So were we.
As he grew older, he mellowed some. He used to watch his language around us. He told jokes but they were always clean and he never kidded us beyond unreasonable. We weren't a real kidding family. We sang on trips to my aunt's house, two to two and one-half hour away for holidays in the car. We loved to sing as a family. He taught us many songs, because Dad sang at many weddings and churches. He was a wonderful Tenor. He played a saxophone and mother had been a music major for her short time at college so she and dad made sure we all learned to play the piano, organ and an instrument. We could have had our own little band.
Dad had me on the tractor in the fields at 9 yrs. of age. Since I was the oldest, I had to help on the farm. He wanted a boy, but I was it. I was a great Tom-boy. I helped him in the fields with a hoe and we weeded the fields after a rain. I loved going with him especially then. I liked to feel the mud oozing through my toes. I even fed the animals. We had them all; geese, chickens, roosters, pigs, sheep, rabbits and cattle.
Well, I didn't intend to write a book. Hope you get a feel for my dad. He was a hard worker. Oh, he worked in the factory during the day too to make ends meet. Not an easy life, but he did it. Mom was his help-mate. He's still living, but doesn't always know me- that's hard. Thanks for stopping by. Happy Slicing! :)