Father's Day

Another one of my least favorite days. I feel a lot of self pity on Father's Day and Mother's Day and birthdays because I am overwhelmed with memories.  A month or so ago I wrote a post about my mom and this one will be about my dad.

My dad was born January 13,1914.  He was the 2nd oldest of 6 kids.  His dad died in 1924.  Uncle Raymond was 12 and Daddy 10, all the way down to Aunt Allene who was about 10 months old.  There was, again, no life insurance, no social security at the time.  The entire family lived with their grandpa who was pretty tough on the boys.  I don't know about all but neither of the older boys finished school because they had to work and take care of the family.  They actually had some land and a house for awhile until it all burned down.  They all depended on extended family and each other to live.  In the late 30's Daddy and Uncle D moved to Arizona and sent home money every month for Granny.  Then daddy was drafted in February 1942 and spent 39 months in the army, on a ship in the Pacific.  Again, all of the boys (Uncle J too) sent home money for Granny.  I know this is about Daddy but a shout out to my Uncle R who took care of Granny until she went to the nursing home.  He was not drafted but his 3 younger brothers were.  He was a major old grump but I'm sure he never felt he had any choices in his life and that would make me crazy and grumpy too.

My dad, US Army 1942-1945

In 1945, he married my mom and they soon had 2 little girls with me to come in 1957.  My dad was an old cowboy.  It was who he was and he never, ever wanted to be anything else.  From 1960-1970 he worked in the mine in Bagdad and other than the army, it was the only time in his entire life that he had to be somewhere at a specific time.   I don't remember him being unhappy at the mine but when a ranching job came up, he grabbed it.

About 1950

We lived a couple of other places but Spur was his home and where he always wanted to be.  He lived there until July 2006 when he moved to Lubbock to live with me.  He was 92 at the time and although I like to believe he was better taken care of with me, he never adjusted to living in a city and without his pickup to go visit his friends.  He was a very sociable person and loved visiting more than anything.  I lost him February 2009 and miss him every day of my life.  

Our House in Bagdad, about 1965

I love this picture!  Look how young Mom looks!!

Mom's last Christmas, 2002

My dad, was, in short the most content man I ever knew.  He had little but needed little.  He loved his girls--Mom, Cathy, Jo, Me--and his grandchildren.  He loved his job and he loved drinking coffee with his friends.  He liked chocolate pudding and peach cobbler and bull riding.  He had a lot of friends because he was a good friend.  What more can a man ask of his life than that?