I only celebrated 12 Father’s Days with my Dad since he died in a farm accident my 12th year. His death was a great shock and loss to our entire family. I often wonder what it would have been like to know my Dad as an adult, to have him hold my children in his arms, to talk to him about his life, his experiences and to hug him once again.
What I do remember, with tremendous fondness, is…
riding in the back of his Turquoise Chevy pickup letting the wind blow on my face and hair
following him around the hog house and watching him do never-ending farm chores
riding to one of the small farming communities to visit the grain elevator, hardware store or local gathering place
building a cage and capturing a pigeon for me to take to school for ‘show and tell’
caring for baby bunnies that had been abandoned by their Mommy
his love of Adolph the cat and our good old farm dog, Skipper
hanging a tire swing for me and his grandchildren to enjoy
watching him crank the old home-made ice cream freezer as I anticipated the luscious results
riding on the tractor with him
feeling very grown up filling the gas tanks of the car or truck
going on picnics and fishing
watching favorite TV shows together including Bonanza, Lassie, Daniel Boone, Ed Sullivan, etc.
the piano he bought for me at the State Fair a month before he died
laughter and teasing (with love)
He was a good guy with a wonderful sense of humor and a dedicated, farmer’s work ethic.
I’m back but you may see more humor, sarcasm and random topics above and beyond food. Understand, food is one of my passions, but so is laughter. When I saw this post on Facebook, it brought a smile to my face. While I don’t cook with a glass(es) of wine, typically, the humor of it all just got to me.
Credit: Paleo Cupboard/Facebook
Don’t stress out about the holidays and cooking. It’s truly a time to be grateful for every precious moment we have on this earth. Look for the humor and blessings in every moment.
2008 was one of those years…after a diagnosis of Rheumatoid Arthritis and Sleep Apnea, it was time to take action over my health. A friend of mine had just finished yoga training and was putting together a group to meet weekly to practice yoga. All of my life, I’ve wanted to try yoga, but the thought of trying it alone was too overwhelming. This intimate setting offered a safe place to begin and it has been a life-saver.
In the beginning I had no flexibility and that darn muffin-top of mine was always in the way. Five years later, my flexibility has DRAMATICALLY improved and I look forward to our weekly class together. We share a love for each other as well as a love of yoga (despite the occasional moaning and groaning). None of us take it too seriously, complimenting our practice with a good hearty laugh or two each week. Thank God for our teacher Diane and for alternate teacher and host, Chris. And who doesn’t love wearing yoga pants!
In a few days our ‘hot flash yoga’ team (never to be confused with HOT Yoga) will head to Shoshoni, in Nederland, Colorado for a yoga retreat. The fresh air, mountain views on top of two days of yoga and meditation is just what I need!
After almost two years of posting faithfully 2x a week, I’ve decided to take a break from posting but will be back soon, so stay tuned.
My Dad, Archie, was one of the funniest men I ever knew. His sense of humor was direct, often dry, and accepted by all. He could say things to people that no one else could say and they would laugh heartily and love him dearly. Love of laughter is one of the great gifts my Father gave to me. I miss him.
When I was 12 years old my Father died as a result of a farming accident. From that day forward my life changed forever. He would never attend one of my high school sporting or music events…he wouldn’t walk me down the aisle…he wouldn’t get to hold my children in his arms and play with them. But he is always with me…always.
Photographs of my Father and I are near and dear to my heart because there are few. Taking a photograph ‘back in the day’ required film, developing, flash bulbs and they were treasured….not to mention that my Father was camera-shy.
Before my Mother died, she passed on photos my Uncle Mahlon ‘Sparky’ took when I was little. These are some of the most treasured photos of my childhood.
The sweater my Father is wearing in this picture, is one I wore through high school and still have in my Mother’s cedar chest (if you’re under 50, you probably don’t know what that is).
Dad, I know you’re listening, and know I love you and miss you! Heavenly hugs to you and to Mom.