I hope you all got the chance to spend some time with the fabulous Fathers in your life this last weekend. I spent the weekend at yet another soccer tournament with my family. That makes for a grand total of 5 tournaments over the past 4 weekends with 2 different teams. Just in case you were counting. Lord knows I am!
While I enjoyed spending the weekend with my husband, who just happens to be a fabulous father himself, I missed seeing my own father on Father's Day. If you've followed my blog for a while, you may know how close I was to my mom before she passed away a year and a half ago. But she wasn't alone in raising me and my three siblings. She had a bit of help from my dad.
|Mom & Dad ~ photo taken by me ~|
Dad's a good ol' country boy. Born in a farming town, Dad's idea of mowing the grass was to plow it under with a tractor we had sitting around. As a former cop, his green thumb feared nothing. He tackled snakes with the same finesse as he did with pesky gophers.
And boy, did he have a sense of humor. My older sister loves to tell the story of Dad taking her to school dances in the back of his black and white patrol car. Thankfully, I was spared the same horrifying social death. By the time I was born, Dad had retired and gone back to work as a truck driver.
Looking back on my childhood years, I've come to understand just how spoiled my little sister and I truly were. My parents doted on us, so much so that we were convinced Mom and Dad would be terribly lonely if they didn't have one of us with them at all times. Come Saturdays, when it was time to run errands, my sister and I would split up. One went with Mom and the other with Dad. My poor parents never had a free moment to themselves.
About 12 years ago, Dad had a debilitating stroke which left him permanently paralyzed and suffering from dementia. He'd already had 3 heart attacks and a triple bypass. Before Mom passed, we really thought we'd lose my dad. He'd been diagnosed with congestive heart failure and his health, what was left of it, was rapidly declining. Within less than a two week span, Dad improved and Mom suddenly was gone.
Though he now lives in a convalescent home, and has no memory of my mother's passing, I am grateful everyday that he is still in my life. He constantly supported my many crazy artistic endeavors and instilled in me a true love of learning. He, alongside my mother, kept me grounded in a time when it could have been very easy to let my whims carry me away.
I will forever be grateful to my father for making me who I am today. Thanks Dad!