Eight years ago, granddaughter Cayley arrived on the Friday before Father's Day - I don't think my son's life has been the same since, and I'm sure that Father's Day gift will never be eclipsed! Son seems to be a good daddy, which makes me proud - but Cayley sure keeps him on his toes! In fact, both son and my older son-in-law are both wonderful dads - actively involved with their kids and with their parenting responsibilities. They make me happy.
My own dad was a softie.....big time! He and his two brothers were raised by their dad, with some assistance from a couple of Grandpa's sisters. Growing up in a single-parent home during the Depression couldn't have been easy, so I'm sure he was determined my life would be different. I was the first girl born into Dad's extended family for 28 years.......so when you add that fact to Dad being in his mid-30's when I was born, I suppose everyone's lucky I didn't grow up being a total terror!
I was always Dad's buddy, especially since there were times Mom would work away from home and I was home on the farm with Dad. We trekked all over our 100-acre farm on a daily basis - the milk cow was never anywhere near the barn when it was milking time. We checked out the timber in the fall for potential Christmas trees. I remember helping him rebuild the barn after a windstorm took part of it down. He taught me to cook - starting when I was about three years old. This had much to do with two facts: 1) growing up in an all-male house, he had to learn to cook or go hungry; and 2) Mom didn't know how to cook when they got married (as wonderful as my Grandma was, she wasn't exactly a patient person).
As I got older, there was a fall that my maternal grandfather was not well and Mom was gone a lot during his surgery and recuperation. She would line us out before leaving on what was in the fridge for us to eat. Sometimes we did - mostly we did our own creations. Once when we decided to make a pot of stew, we were still eating on it the end of that week when Mom arrived home. You see, once we got in meat and veggies, we determined we needed a starch in the stew as well. We couldn't decide between macaroni and rice..........so we used both. As it cooked and swelled, we had to add more liquid. Then it was too soupy, so we added more rice.......you get the idea! We could've fed an Army unit off that pan of stew! Dad's been gone almost 21 years now; it doesn't seem like it could possibly have been that long.
My grandfathers were opposites - Grandpa Dorsey was pretty quiet, while Grandad Edwards was fairly ornery. I don't really remember Grandpa Dorsey not being in Bogard, though I know he was in Kansas City when I was really small. He didn't drive, so I got to see him every week when we would pick him up to come to town with us shopping. He and Dad were especially close - when my maternal grandmother would decide to grace us with her presence (she's a whole other story I'm won't otherwise get into), Grandpa would always come stay at our house as well. I know he was there to be a buffer for Dad, even though he and Grandma had been divorced for decades. Grandad Edwards had been a farm worker for a lot of his years; when I was three, they moved to Jefferson City and he worked for the State......for one year he was a security guard at the State Penitentiary, and the rest of his career he was stationed at the Governor's Mansion. It was always fun going to their house for a week in the summer - we always got to ride to work with Grandad, check out the grounds at the Mansion and then go to the museum at the State Capitol. I have a photo hanging on the wall of Grandad, Grandma, Mom, Governor John Dalton, and me - sitting at the Governor's desk. Grandad's illness and surgery my fifth grade year of school ended that career, and he was never well again. I lost both these wonderful men when I was a tender 13 - it was so hard to say goodbye to both of them, and more so since it was just three months apart.
There are two other men I want to mention for Father's Day - from my hubby's family. Hubby's father was an Army pilot in World War II. He was shot down over New Guinea in January 1944 - hubby was born in May 1944, so he had no opportunity to know his father. But his father was and is a big part of his life.. We have photos of him, of his wedding to hubby's mother, the medals given to the family after his death, and his flag on display in our home. Thanks to hubby's uncle, we also have a large color photo of the American Military Cemetery in Manila, as well as a smaller photo of the grave marker there.
When hubby was five, a very brave man came into his life - a man who married a lovely young woman and took her children as his own. Barden Finch loved hubby and his sister, gave them another sister and brother, and is still an inspirational part of our lives. At 91, he's active, sharp, and a rock for everyone. He and my mother-in-law will celebrate their 64th anniversary in August.
To all the dads out there - Happy Father's Day!
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