Tribute to My Father–Daddy, I Miss You

Do you ever really stop missing a loved one who has died?  I don’t think so.  My father died over ten years ago.  Sometimes when I’m reading an article or see an item in a catalog, I’ll think to myself, Daddy would like that, then I remember that Daddy isn’t here anymore. If your father is still living, go–tell him how much you love him while you still can.  (And your mother, too!)

My memories of my daddy begin when I was about seven years old.  Probably because before then he was only with us on the weekends.  Because his job was in Tulsa, about two hours from our home, he lived in a little apartment/room during the week and only came home on weekends.  Eventually he found a group of men to car pool with and lived at home with us.

Daddy was a worker.  He rarely just sat.  When he came home from work, he would continue working at various projects around the house until supper time.  During the summer, he would work outside until dark.  He was very creative and usually had several things going at the same time.  He could make or fix any thing that wasn’t electronic. I remember once when he rebuilt a car engine in the middle of the living room floor, on newspapers.  We had to walk around that thing for days and days.  When he finished, he painted it bright blue and red and then installed it in the car.  It ran perfectly.

Daddy was frugal and thrifty, but when he bought something, especially a tool, he did not buy the cheapest.  One of his favorite sayings was: “You get what you pay for.”

When I was very small, until I grew too heavy to carry, Daddy would carry me to bed and swing me in his arms over the bed. “A one,” (swing) “a two”, (swing) “and a three.”  At the count of three he would drop me onto the bed so I’d bounce.  I loved it.

We knew Daddy loved us, but it was hard for him to show his affection to us because of the way he was raised.  Every night before going to bed, I’d go to him to get a goodnight kiss on the cheek.  That was it, until much later in his life.  I was a grown women before he actually said the words to me, I love you.

After I left home and moved far away, I only was able to see my parents after five years had passed.  Then gradually we had more money and I started returning for a visit once a year.  I treasure those summer vacation memories.

Daddy, I still miss you and love you and I always will.


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Filed under Family, Memories, The Art of Living

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