Cowboy Dad

I was telling some little friends of mine that my dad was a cowboy and they were so excited.  It was funny.  I guess there aren’t as many as there once were.  I’ve been thinking a lot about Dad lately.  I actually had to get up and leave church Sunday because I couldn’t get control of my emotions.  I remember how he used to sing really loud.  I loved it.  You’d think as a teenager I might have been embarrassed, but nope.  I love my dad’s voice.  I thought about how he taught me to ride a horse in the pasture outside my house and how I was thrilled when we finally got to go outside of it.  I thought about the stories he used to tell us as kids.  I can’t think of a single better story teller.  Somehow “The Golden Arm” scared me every single time.  I thought about camping and watching him and my older brothers throw a hatchet, tied to a rope, up into the trees to pitch the army parachute.  Nobody else in the camp had a parachute for a tent. I thought about hayrides, picnics, off -roading in his 4×4 truck (I was sure we were going to flip right over.), sailing, on Hawley Lake, in Showlow, or in the bay in San Diego, tying ropes, chopping weeds out of the garden, skiing, daddy-daughter dates (usually adventures to a farm or ranch) , The Top of the World, Tickle Monster, teaching me how to drive on dirt roads, shooting at the farm dump, hammocks, cheering us on at everything we did, holey socks and foot rubs ;), chopping down Christmas trees, dilly bars after the Easter Pageant, bike rides, singing at Megan’s wedding and wishing I had been cool enough to have asked him to sing at mine.

Now when I go visit, I get to tell him the stories.  I love reading Louis L’Amor books with him.  We’ve also read some of the Just So Stories, and even a few others, that I don’t think we’ve ever finished.  I tell him all about my kids, and what they’ve been up to.  I tell him about whatever photo project I’ve been working on.  For as much as he teased me in school about underwater basket weaving, he has always, at least feigned interest in my art.  Other times I’ll go back with Mom and just chat with her in their room, but I think Dad usually tunes us out then.  He often starts to tune me out no matter what.  Then we just sit and watch tv.  It’s usually CSI, or something like that.  Although, I love when it’s Bonanza.  (And we’re right back to the cowboys. I actually don’t go back and visit with him as often as I should.  There are so many distractions.  But, I will try and do better.)

I’m not sure where I’m going with this.  Other than this.  I love you, Dad!  Thank you for teaching me so much.

STAMPEDE!!!!

Tomorrow is my parents 49th wedding anniversary. They are amazing! Thank you for being such a great example of what it takes to make an eternal marriage.