Losing My Father

My dad was a simple man. He didn't have much of a traditional classroom education. He never graduated from high school but he was wise. Life taught him everything that he needed to know and his studies began early. His own father passed away at the age of 47 making him the head of the family taking care of his mother and his little brother. He married my mom, had a family, and life was a bit of a struggle.

Except for a few years driving a truck, my dad spent his life toiling in the soil of Madison County. Farming was passed down by his father and it was the only life that my dad truly knew. It was an occupation that he loved except during the fourteen hour days of picking cotton each fall when he threatened to take up sweeping floors for a living. He loved farming but he didn't want to pass it on encouraging us to go to college or learn a trade and we did. It took me 21 years but I finished my Bachelors degree a few years ago. It was the first in our family and dad proudly began greeting me as "The Professor" when I came through the door.

My father was a good man but he wasn't Ward Cleaver. He was the strong and silent John Wayne type. He wasn't very good at expressing himself and never spoke much of his own childhood. He was a rather hard man when we were young. The rod certainly wasn't spared at our house but I'm sure that we needed it. He taught us the value of hard work and respect. I think time and three little grand daughters softened his heart. He still wasn't much of a conversationalist about personal matters but he never failed to tell me he loved me anytime that we talked.

I dropped by my parent's house on my way home from work the day before his heart attack last July. I thought dad was just tired at the time. My mom did too and he certainly wasn't going to admit that he didn't feel well. He hardly ever did. I was espousing on my mechanical skills and my new job during our last conversation. He was proud of me and I of him.

I watched dad struggle to support us for years without truly appreciating the sacrifices that he endured to raise me and my siblings. It took many years and raising a daughter of my own to understand my dad's life, to understand the hard work and the sacrifice that he endured to take care of our family. He gave us opportunities in life that he never had. He taught us well and then he set us free to find our way in the world and I'll always love him for it.