The love I have for my dad is beyond measure, as is his love for me.
I remember as a little girl the rides through the country side on a warm summer day. I believe that I went everywhere with my dad when I was a little girl. I remember the places that we would often stop while my dad would talk with the old farmers. Kelly Bruce's, Brownies are just a few of the places we would frequent a on regular schedule.
He was my protector in life—mostly from the cruelness of my mother.
There were a few years that I didn’t get to see my dad. My mom and dad divorced when I was 16. A few years later my dad married his high school sweetheart, Frankie, and my mom was so jealous with rage that she would not allow me to visit dad. This crushed me. I was so afraid of my mom that I would sneak a visit with dad in Florence for a few minutes while he way on his way home from work. This was way before cell phones and computers.
Once, during a cool summer night I had my bedroom window open and as I lay in bed In the distance I heard a train blowing its horn. I fell apart in my bed hearing that because I knew that my dad or mama would have either heard or would hear the same noise. It was a connection I could make with dad, even though he would never know until now.
My dad possess an undeniable strength . Dad drank from his early teens until he was 60. I attribute his drinking to living with my mom.
Dad remarried to his high school sweetheart, Frankie. To this day I remember the first words she spoke to me. “Are you a christian?”. Frankie encouraged dad to quit drinking and he was able to give up the drink. They were only married five years before she was diagnosed with esophageal/lung cancer. Before Frankie passed away she made my dad promise that he would not start drinking again. He has honored that promise to Frankie.
The night that we lost Joshua the only call I made was to dad. The first face I saw after waking up in the ER was my dad.
There is one thing that I could never repay my dad. He has taken care of Joshua’s grave since the day he was buried. It might seem morbid, silly — I don’t know but all I can tell you is that dad needs to go and make certain things are ok—and I need to know that he is taking care of my boy.