This Man

To some he was known as "one of the Divide County farmers."  To others he was the one to call when their crops needed a round of aerial spraying.  To many, during the course of his lifetime, he was known as someone who was always willing to lend a helping hand, or offer a means out of a difficult situation.  To my mother, he was a faithful life partner, and to my 3 siblings and I, he was "Dad."
 
My children were blessed to know him as "Grandpa," if only for a short time.  He passed away when they were only ages 8 and 5.  This past week-end, we have been blessed to have our four grandchildren stay with us, with the youngest two being similar to those ages.  It was difficult to imagine them losing a grandpa.  This morning I was able to "introduce" the 5 year old to his "great-grandpa."  We happened to be in the living room at the time I realized it was July 3, my dad's birthday. 

"Today is my daddy's birthday,"  I explained, and proceeded to tell him this man was his mother's grandpa, making him my grandson's great-grandfather.  We took time to look at a picture of him and my grandson's response was, "So, not my great, great-grandfather?"  No, just one great.  Unless, of course, you are describing what kind of a great-grandfather he would have been.  Then it would be a GREAT great-grandfather!

This man's life was cut short, but only after he survived a quadruple bypass heart surgery, a stroke, and prostate cancer which eventually made its way into his bones.  He left this life at the age of 72 and would have been 103 today if he were still counting years by earthly standards.  It is a comforting thought to know he will be among those to welcome me "home" when it comes time for me to transfer to a "heavenly home."

What comes to mind when I think of my dad?  Perhaps farming, flying, and fireworks rank near the top.  When I worked as a bank teller, the drive-thru window often let in the fumes of diesel pickups, and instantly my mind thought of the man who supported our family by long hours on tractors, trucks, and combines.  Another smell, the scent of spearmint, brings to mind the many times we flew as a family, and Wrigley's gum was the ammunition we used to avoid popping ears.  The sound of an airplane overhead usually makes me look up and say, "Hi, Daddy!" 

With his birthday on July 3, and our country's birthday the day after, there was always a nice display of fireworks to delight us.  To this day, the sound of fireworks and sparkle of lights in the sky bring a smile to my face as I think of the planning he did to make us "oooh" and "aaah" as he lit off the fireworks. 

And so I end the day saying, "Happy Birthday, Dad!  Thanks for the precious memories!!"