My Daddy was a gentle giant of a man,
6 foot plus and 250 pounds.
Someone not to cross on a dark night.
But he could cradle a baby in his arms
or bull dog a calf with the same ease.

I can see him walking though knee high corn,
planning the fall harvest in advance,
when us kids would all get a new pair of shoes,
while he would cut cardboard insoles
to keep the winter cold from his old boots.

I watched him carry a half frozen newborn calf into the kitchen.
He breathed life into his slimy frozen snot,
poured warm milk down his throat and rubbed him with warm blankets.
and years later that 1000 pound Charolais bull
would follow him around like a puppy.

He'd sit me on his lap and let me drive the farm truck.
Too small to see, I'd peek between the steering wheel and dashboard,
I never knew he was driving with his knee
until I had kids of my own and told them what he told me
"Just keep it between the ditches, Baby."

He would fold a 10 dollar bill to look like a hundred,
grin and watch the deacons eyes get big
when he tossed it into the collection plate.
He'd stand up and bellow his favorite hymn
or softly crone a lullaby to his grandchildren.

He would ride our huge cutting horse bareback and bridleless
and guide him only with his knees, when that same beast
would throw me off into the.....muck, Daddy would laugh,
make him stand still while I pulled myself up by his mane,
then to my dismay make me get right back on.

One time he dressed up as the mother of the bride
at a womanless wedding. Quite a site!
The loud bawling and nose blowing he made
into his bright red bandana handkerchief
brought down the house with laughter.

Up before dawn he'd be singing "OH What a Beautiful Morning"
How did he know it would be a beautiful day?
He'd prod my brother awake with. "Come on boy.
It's milking time and Honey is calling your name."
How I loved that morning routine. (Now, Not then.)

He'd let us sleep on top of the sacks of sweet corn
when we took them to market to sell
or bury ourselves in the truck full of wheat
until the man at the grain mill would chase us out.
But if we broke open a bale of hay we were in trouble.

When Momma was too mad to spank us he would.
He'd take us into the bedroom, roll up a newspaper,
say "When I hit the bed you yell real loud.
Now stay in here and think 'bout what ya did."
Give us a wink and say, "Don't tell Momma."

The fourth of July we'd buy fireworks and our first watermelon.
When we got home he'd light a whole pack of black cats at once.
Laugh as the dog chased them, then he'd say, "I'm done."
Then he'd go into the house with a warning not to blow up anything important.
But we knew he was watching us from his chair by the window.

He used to tease my boyfriends so bad
I knew they would never come back,
but when I found that special one he treated him like a son.
Although the teasing never stopped
he loved him even after we went our separate ways.

My favorite memory is when he'd push me in the swing.
No matter how tired he was when he came in from the field.
This was our nitely routine and we never missed a day.
He'd push me until my feet touched the tree leaves.
While I squealed "Higher Daddy Higher".

He loved fresh roasted cashew nuts.
I'd buy them for him at the dime store
whenever I wanted to spoil him.
So on Father's Day Sunday I'll toast him with cashews
And say Happy Father's Day, Daddy. I miss you."

06/10/2009

Author's Note: I know my Daddy's watching over me and will meet me at Heavens door and I'll be safe in his arms once again.

Posted on 06/10/2009
Copyright © 2025 Maude Curtis