He wasn’t educated or sophisticated. He hated to wear a tie and refused to wear a short sleeve shirt. His face was worn from working in the sun and wind.
He didn’t always provide for his family, but he did the best he could. I saw him cry one Christmas when he had no money for food or presents.
It was easy to get angry with him. He based his opinions on what he thought and not what the facts were.
His grandchildren were his delight - especially one.
He died when he was seventy one. The only time he ever said he loved me was in response to me telling him that I loved him. I guess he didn’t have to say it because I was supposed to know it.
He gave us all he had. Sometimes, it wasn’t enough, but it was his all.
Miss you Dad.
©2011
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