Memories of Dad

My dad loved nature. Red cardinals were one of his favorite birds. Dad died of leukemia in 1992. I think of him every time I see a cardinal, and I see them everywhere I go. My sisters do, too. I think God sends them to us as reminders that we are still connected, that our relationship with Dad has not ended just because he died.

One of my earliest memories is of him climbing a tall old hollow tree trunk to trap an owl that lived there that had been eating our chickens. He put his hand over the top of the tree trunk and instead of catching the owl, the owl caught him! I remember him yelling, and my mom calling to him to let the owl go. My dad yelled back, "Let him go hell, he's got me!" I was probably about 3 years old when that happened, but I've never forgotten it.

I remember when I was about 5 years old, Dad took us fishing. I was sitting on a big log with a little cane pole when I caught something that started pulling me into the water! I started yelling, but didn't let go of the pole. Dad ran to me and grabbed me before I fell into the creek. Then he pulled in my catch, and it was a great big old turtle. I never did care too much for fishing after that. ;o) But I knew my dad would always be there if I needed him.

Dad had a way with kids and animals. They loved and trusted him. He was so patient. He once coaxed a wild squirrel to eat from his hand. She came back every day, and he named her Patty. Dad kept a box of nuts in the utility room, just inside the back door, and it wasn't long before Patty figured out where the nuts were coming from. She eventually got brave enough to go inside the house to get nuts out of the box. That's how much she trusted my dad.

He could whistle up quail. He would whistle just like them, and they would come closer and closer until you could see them. He loved all birds--mockingbirds, wrens, doves, whippoorwills, owls, finches, chickadees, meadowlarks, jays and hawks, and he knew them all by their songs. Hummingbirds enchanted him. He passed on that love of birds to his girls.

He had a basset hound named Greta. Greta had a litter of puppies, and Dad cared for them like a nurse. He had a bunch of old towels for their bedding, and every day he would wash their towels. He and Mom sold most of the puppies, but they kept two (Baby and Baggles), and gave one to my sister (Ruffles). Those dogs loved him so much. After he died, they howled underneath his bedroom window. They somehow knew that someone precious was gone from their lives.

Dad was crazy about Mom, his girls, and the grandkids that came along later. We were so blessed to have him in our lives, and I'm thankful to have had an earthly father who loved us so much. I remember telling him, "I love you, Dad." And he would reply, "I know. That makes me happy. I love you, too."

I still love you, Dad.