my daddy

When I was born in 1955 Daddy was finishing up his ag degree at UTM so me and mama stayed at her parents' house on College street until he got out.  The next year we moved to the cabin and he began managing Calcutt Farm and working as a plant protection control specialist for the USDA.  He did both jobs until he was eligible for federal retirement at age 55.  He was raised Southern Baptist but converted to the UMC when I was little.  We were there every Sunday until I left to go to college.  My brothers came along 3 and 7 years later respectively.  

When I was growing up I failed to appreciate the finer points of farming knowing only that when the crops came in there was a little extra cash.  His father was a poor sharecropper who put Daddy and the girls to work early.  I don't think he was a very good father to any of them but then he didn't know any better.  They were poor and he often walked or caught rides to town from RoEllen.  By the grace of God and Sam Reed he was awarded a scholarship to get that degree in agriculture.

I don't think he knew quite what to do with me since I was the girl so he just kinda' left that to Mom.  I remember us going to family reunions in Blue Mountain Mississippi where his kinfolk lived.  Daddy was a hard worker, a faithful Christian and a rabid UT fan, not necessarily in that order.  Because he retired early he immediately began giving back to the community in a million ways.  He was a Paul Harris fellow in Rotary and former president and lifetime board member of the Dyer County Fair Association.  

I see a lot of  him in me now.  I learned to love gardening from him and I'm sure he smiled when I discovered those squash yesterday.  He instilled in me honesty, loyalty and a sense of giving to the least of these.  His volunteer service included Redcoat at the hospital and on and on.  He was never one to be idle.  If nothing else, he would walk the yard to see what was coming up.  We did that a lot together in his last years.  

Lauren was the apple of his eye and when we moved out here when she was 4 they became constant companions on the tractor and whatnot.  She was the only grandchild for many years and got all the attention.  

He's been gone for almost 3 years but he's with me all the time in the form of nature.....birds, the seasons of growth and change.  I miss him and there are so many things I wish I had told him including how much I admired him.  

Our church now has a baptismal tub for those who choose to be dunked vs sprinkled.  Today was the first day I had witnessed that via live stream from the chapel to the congregation.  That was followed by a very moving sermon based on an Old Testament story I had never heard about Ichabod and how that name means "glory is gone."  Who among us has not felt that way....like an Ichabod?

To all you fathers and mentors who act like fathers, enjoy your day and your kids.  It's what life is all about.

^j^