If I Had My Way...
I wouldn't be doing this!!! *growlin*
I have to admit, I'm not like Guy when it comes to stuff like this. Notice he said "I" in this next statement... "in doing that I decided our energy would be better spent in sharing some of "the stuff we're made of"... so much more than DNA... and "why" it really is "worth it"..." Yes, he's MAKING me do this dammit. I'm not saying it's a bad thing, rather what I am saying is that I like my "stuff" kept right where it is, thank you very much. I know where it is, and where to "dig" if/when I want/need it. However, it seems I have no choice in the matter. So here goes CRAP...
My Father was a remarkable man. He was a teacher, a giver, always a learner in the fact that he always had an open mind to keep learning more. According to him you could never learn enough. He was tough, yet gentle... strong, yet tender... wise, yet not all knowing.
My Father was away a good bit when I was younger. I used to talk to him EVERY day on the phone when he was gone. He always called to tell me good morning before I left for school, always called when I got in from school to see how my day went, and always called to tell me good night, and all three times reminding me how much he loved me and missed me. I was an Army brat and sometimes in the summer I used to get to go with him... not often, but on a few occassions. I remember so vividly how he would "show me off" to everyone.
When my Father WAS home he made up for all the time that we had to spend apart. I was his shadow. He was always teaching me stuff he knew. He's where I got my love of horses, the outdoors and not just doing girly stuff. I always remember him telling me that it was important to be a well-rounded individual. We may have not had a tremendous amount of quantity time, but rather QUALITY time. We used to ride horses together, just him and I. He was my riding partner for many years. He even taught me how to build fence, and at 7 years old he had me driving our chevy pick up around our property. We used to cut firewood together and then my family and I would have huge brushfires from the scraps that were left over.
My Father made me the tough nut that I am. In his final 2 1/2 years of life we had many talks. Many of them being him telling me how proud he was of me and me telling him how proud I was to be his daughter. He told me there were many traits of his he wished I didn't have. Just a few of them were: His stubborness, his needing to be tough "at all cost". I remember those words as a child and remember thinking, this man is so tough and so strong but yet so loving and so gentle. I want to be just like that. He used to tell me... beg me... not to keep things bottled up inside me. I have to admit that's one thing I didn't learn well. I assured him that even the traits that he wished I didn't get from him I could make good use of.
He left this earth knowing how proud his daughter was of him and me knowing that I had made him proud as a daughter.
Daddy, two years ago today you went to your heavenly home... no more suffering. I held your head in my hands and kissed the top of your head as I said good bye for now. I think of you every day and today I celebrate your life. The time I spent with you during your illness is something that I will NEVER regret. I assured you of this repeatedly and I meant it from the bottom of my heart. I take care of Mama, as you asked me to do, as best I can, being so far from her. I look at her and remember you, it is then when I realize where I got my stubborness from and so proud to be the daughter of the two most wondeful people I've ever known. I'm celebrating you today, Daddy.
I have to admit, I'm not like Guy when it comes to stuff like this. Notice he said "I" in this next statement... "in doing that I decided our energy would be better spent in sharing some of "the stuff we're made of"... so much more than DNA... and "why" it really is "worth it"..." Yes, he's MAKING me do this dammit. I'm not saying it's a bad thing, rather what I am saying is that I like my "stuff" kept right where it is, thank you very much. I know where it is, and where to "dig" if/when I want/need it. However, it seems I have no choice in the matter. So here goes CRAP...
My Father was a remarkable man. He was a teacher, a giver, always a learner in the fact that he always had an open mind to keep learning more. According to him you could never learn enough. He was tough, yet gentle... strong, yet tender... wise, yet not all knowing.
My Father was away a good bit when I was younger. I used to talk to him EVERY day on the phone when he was gone. He always called to tell me good morning before I left for school, always called when I got in from school to see how my day went, and always called to tell me good night, and all three times reminding me how much he loved me and missed me. I was an Army brat and sometimes in the summer I used to get to go with him... not often, but on a few occassions. I remember so vividly how he would "show me off" to everyone.
When my Father WAS home he made up for all the time that we had to spend apart. I was his shadow. He was always teaching me stuff he knew. He's where I got my love of horses, the outdoors and not just doing girly stuff. I always remember him telling me that it was important to be a well-rounded individual. We may have not had a tremendous amount of quantity time, but rather QUALITY time. We used to ride horses together, just him and I. He was my riding partner for many years. He even taught me how to build fence, and at 7 years old he had me driving our chevy pick up around our property. We used to cut firewood together and then my family and I would have huge brushfires from the scraps that were left over.
My Father made me the tough nut that I am. In his final 2 1/2 years of life we had many talks. Many of them being him telling me how proud he was of me and me telling him how proud I was to be his daughter. He told me there were many traits of his he wished I didn't have. Just a few of them were: His stubborness, his needing to be tough "at all cost". I remember those words as a child and remember thinking, this man is so tough and so strong but yet so loving and so gentle. I want to be just like that. He used to tell me... beg me... not to keep things bottled up inside me. I have to admit that's one thing I didn't learn well. I assured him that even the traits that he wished I didn't get from him I could make good use of.
He left this earth knowing how proud his daughter was of him and me knowing that I had made him proud as a daughter.
Daddy, two years ago today you went to your heavenly home... no more suffering. I held your head in my hands and kissed the top of your head as I said good bye for now. I think of you every day and today I celebrate your life. The time I spent with you during your illness is something that I will NEVER regret. I assured you of this repeatedly and I meant it from the bottom of my heart. I take care of Mama, as you asked me to do, as best I can, being so far from her. I look at her and remember you, it is then when I realize where I got my stubborness from and so proud to be the daughter of the two most wondeful people I've ever known. I'm celebrating you today, Daddy.
posted by little one | 11/10/2005 08:00:00 AM
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