"It doesn't matter who my father was;
it matters who I remember he was."
~~By Anne Sexton (1928-1974) U.S. poet.~~
Happy Father's Day to my Dad
My Dad was a rancher and a farmer. He married a widow with 2 young children at the age of 39. I never knew those children weren't my "real" sister and brother until much later in life, when one of our "favorite aunts" informed me. They were and always will be my older sister and brother. Just as my younger sister and brother are. Real, half, whatever--some people just don't get it. My Dad did. He was a very strict man with a very soft heart that grew softer with time. He always had a special way with animals and children. He worked hard and he expected his children to all work hard too. He tolerated no "funny business".
We had fun time too. Once in a while he would come in and tell Mom to pack a lunch. We would go dig worms. The ones by the cattle shed were the biggest. We were like little birds grabbing the plumpest ones. The bamboo poles went in the trunk and off we would go. Bullheads, sunfish and perch were the main fish we caught in a small pond or lake nearby. I remember how proud I was when I could bait my own hook like my Dad had taught me. The sandwiches Mom made tasted the best sitting there by the water. We didn't get to go often, but when we did--it was wonderful.
I love you Dad and I miss you! Hugs to Heaven from your little girl.
