Our bed-time ritual was a joint venture with Bill and I, consisting of book reading and getting one of them to say that her favorite book was.”Old Black Bitch” instead of Witch. Always closing bedroom doors with at least two identical voices shouting, “Daddy, don’t shut the door too MANY!” Which would send him into peals of laughter, and he left the doors ajar.
Some little girls would get a ride into town for supplies at Stickleys or the Farm Bureau, and Bill would return them to me saying, “She talked non stop all the way in and back!” There were water battles in the milking parlor, there was halter training their heifers for the fair, there were ballgames, and vacation trips all over the country with one little girl riding behind her Daddy’s back in the motor home talking of “cuts and fills” on the roadway. There were musicals and college move ins and move outs, and weddings and grandchildren, and He was there.
Little girls sat in the back yard with a ball and glove waiting for him to come in from the barn to throw a few balls with them. I never saw him refuse even though he had spent about 15 hours working. If perhaps they had a small snafu in life, the first words out of their mouths was” Don’t tell Daddy.” Not because they feared him, but they never wanted to disappoint him. Unconditional love was his way of dealing with the herd of females in his life.
There are a thousand and one stories I could tell. But what all this means in my daughter’s lives, is that He was always there. In the moments of joy and a moment or two of deep sorrow, He was there. So Father’s Day is just one more day to remember. I will close with his reply to those people who kidded him about having all girls. Bill’s reply was, “If God thought we needed another man around our house, He would have sent one!” Amen, Bill, Amen.
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