Here's me and my Dad.
I have so many fond memories of Dad:
Each morning he would get up early and have his personal devotion time reading his Bible and praying in the kitchen. He also read his Bible at night in the kitchen, before turning out the lights.
Each morning for breakfast he would have a hot piping bowl of oatmeal made from scratch; he actually made it himself...his one cooking skill!
With the oatmeal he'd have a piece of toast, and a cup of coffee, while listening to the news on the radio.
My mom always made his lunch; 2 sandwiches each day, consisting of peanut butter and jam, and the other had meat of some kind. She'd wrap the sandwiches in wax paper (no plastic zip lock bags back then) and each evening when he came home after a long day at Glidden Paints, he would take out the wax paper, neatly folded and store it under the kitchen sink.
Do you know what we used them for?
Potato peelings! Isn't that funny? It was my job to peel potatoes each night for supper; we rarely ever had rice, and sometimes we had pasta. Leona was allergic to potatoes, so it was my full time job. (the 2 younger sister rarely did chores; however, they remember them, so I guess I have selective memory! But when I was 10, they were 1 and 5, so I cannot remember them working around the house at all!) When Dad left for work, he always yelled, "Bye, be good!"
My Dad was always hard working. He stayed at Glidden Paints, working the fork lift, for 30 years. He had early retirement at age 60.
Every weekend in the summer he'd mow the lawn, and do other things around the house. Each Sunday he'd warm the car while we scurried about getting ready for Sunday School and church. At church he was the usher, and he sang in the choir. He was faithful to go for Wednesday evening Bible studies too, and when he was washing up, I remember asking him where he was going.
He'd reply, "To Kirk!" I thought that was funny. And he would always take his "Beeble". (Bible)
When I was very small, I remember riding on his back while he was the horse. I remember him reading stories to me, and sitting on his knee, and when I asked how to get to Heaven one day, he would say, "Pray and be a good girl."
He was often the chauffeur as my mom didn't drive. He would take us on long hauls to Oregon each summer, where we'd have our vacations at my mom's brother's farm. He would pack our station wagon perfectly, after cleaning it from top to bottom and giving it a good wash.
I have so many fond memories of my happy home life, and I thank God for my dear Father.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Happy Father's Day!
Here's me and my Dad.