It's Father's Day. Sometimes it feels like a lifetime, sometimes it was only yesterday, that daddy was here. He was always a bit larger than life, you know, like John Wayne. Kind of immortal. Except he was. Sitting with my sisters and a brother in the house we all shared with momma and daddy always turns into a "remember" session-and that was always punctuated with a lot of laughter. And daddy was a lot about laughter. And practical jokes. And incessant teasing that sometimes turned one of the sisters to tears. My brother was too much like daddy, from the sound of his voice to the way he chuckles when he thinks he has one over on you. Amazing since daddy was called to heaven to cowboy there when my brother was only 19. But anyway.....
We always list off the things daddy said....and how funny they are today. And how momma sometimes just shakes her head.
**The toilet is not a trash can. (so don't blow your nose and toss the tissue in the toilet...)
**Strike a match! (but if it was him to last use the bathroom it was...)
**Smells like roses!
**Why don't you buy your britches to fit you butt instead of your head?
**If you want attention I'll give you more than you want.
I never remember daddy missing work because he was sick, ever. He always went to work. His hard hat, his lunch box, the smell of the pines, the black dirt, the diesel fuel smell. And weekends were cowboy boots, spurs, cowboy hat, the smell of sagebrush and alfalfa and sometimes cowpies and horse puckey. And he expected everyone else to know how to work. And he taught us what employers want and that he expected us to give an honest days work for an honest days pay. He loved Lawrence Welk, and he loved to watch them dance. He loved Hee Haw, and he chuckled a lot. He watched all the cowboy movies and picked them apart. Like pointing out in the middle of something very interesting that there was a jet stream in the sky, or a power line in the horizon, or tire tracks through the sand. What? Are you kidding? Do you have to ruin it for the rest of us? He watched Gunsmoke and Bonanza. Would remark that the lightning in a summer thunderstorm is not going to stampede a herd of cattle. Man.
Anyway....I could never in a book say it all. Could never do daddy justice. I just sit as I type and smile.....kind of like his half hidden chuckles. I miss that man. I have very blessed to have been borne into the family I have. I'll see him on the other side...he'll probably be whistling "I Love You Truly" and tipping his cowboy hat, he'll look at me and say, "Couldn't you have gotten white sheet to fit your butt instead of your head?" And I'll be home, too.
