Father's Day brings him to my mine though he has been gone over 40 years. I can hear his voice, smell his after shave and almost feel his arms. He was a big man. Physically over six foot and sturdy never over weight. dark haired, bleed, he would walk int a room and become a center of moment. He did not have to try ;he just was. Often he had a cigar some where near and there was always coffee beside him. Once someone said to me "I'd hate to fight him. Look at the size of his hands.", but I never knew him to swing at anyone though I am sure he may have in his younger days.
Dad as I knew him was a blast of run and spur of the moment decisions. My mother was the planner and root put downer of our family and now I wonder how their marriage worked but it did. Perhaps because inside he was a softie content to let his women run the house and him when he was home. When he was home sounds ominous but it isn't. He was a traveling salesmen for farm equipment firms.He was good at it, until he got ill.
Memories abound. Saturdays were movie days --especially when the theater was the only air conditioned place during blistering summers. Westerns were the usual bill of fare. Randolph Scott and John Wayne became icons for me. Wayne with his "I am not...the Hell I am not" line just before he decked the bad guy was in my mind equated with Dad. He was a slow burn to anger but once it flared, it was white hot.Then just as suddenly it was gone and he was mending fences. Yet, once he had finally had it there was no going back and his politeness became icy. Thank you dad, that gene came right over into my DNA.
Another memory is his "Chicken Legs." Once when we were on the farm our neighbor Fred Strickland drained his farm. eager to stock our pond, Dad rolled up the legs of his striped overalls and filled bucket after bucket with water and fish and carried them to our pond. Fred watched this silently but finally yelled " Hey. Roy how did a big one like you get such skinny damn chicken legs?" The term stuck, Now I know they probably were the result of years of insulin injections due to toe 2 diabetes.
Dad also could get Mom to do things that I am sure she was not really sure about. One example we were living in Kearney in my third year of college, Dad walked in and said "I am going to Canada who is going along?" Mom looked at him and to his surprise said "let's go just as soon as this load of wash is done." We went straight North then to St Paul and home through the Wisconsin Dells. I used French in an area where it was native and enjoyed Mom's relaxation and enjoyment during the trip.
Now he was not perfect and I won't pretend he was. He was my center of strength,and I knew he was in my corner.He let me grow independent of him but never stopped loving me. Watching him grow weak tore at me, and when the call came, I drove all night to get to Cameron Missouri. I ran out of gas as I drove into their yard. The next day I said good bye and was unsure that he heard me, but then he lifted his hand. The next second he was gone, and my world was less than it had been before.
Yet cigar smoke and Old Spice can conjure him up . For a moment I feel his larger than life presence, his comfort floods me and I know that he gave me the world when he gave me life and love.
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