Father

Long, long, ago, in MY FATHER'S WORLD, Life was hard and unfair, but very simple. In my father's world, he learned to navigate his life in spite of its difficulties, and found a way, not only to survive but also to thrive. But not nearly as long ago, 19 years in fact, I heard things about my father at a family reunion that compelled me to begin reconciling posthumously with the father that I thought I knew so well. As an adult, over the years, I had shut the door on my father, counting him as irrelevant in my life. However, at the reunion, my siblings began to speak of a good and generous man that I did not remember. As a child growing up, I don't remember any celebrations of Father's Day. But I do recall that long, long ago, in MY FATHER'S HOUSE, there were plenty of noises, eats, and treats. Words like, "I love you" from my father's lips were seldom if ever heard. But his actions of love spoke so much louder. Shelter and clothing enough for mom, dad, and grandma, and all 12 of us kids who never went to bed afraid or hungry. There were shade trees as well as China berry and peach. There was a large vegetable garden of peas, greens, many melons, and potatoes both the white and the sweet. There was even enough food for my dog named Jack. We lived proudly without fear, and were secure and warm. Long, long, ago, in MY FATHER'S PLACE, there were numerous kinds of animals. A cow, chickens, goats, pigs, and pet rabbits. Everyone and everything belonging to my father was well cared for and protected from hurt and harm. Long, long, ago, in MY FATHER'S LITTLE TOWN, he was well respected. He helped a lot of people and was known by the initials of his name. It means a lot to me that everyone I knew thought that he was a good man. The old country church and graveyard where he was buried 59 years ago needs work but still stands. 053122PS