IAT for Great Fathers

IAT = I am thankful

Let's just start with my dear old dad. I am convinced someone put the wrong order in for the time period he was to be born in. Because my dad is more of a combination of Wild Bill Hickock, Buffalo Bill Cody, Kit Carson and a bit of Tom Horne, Butch Cassidy, and the Sundance Kid. While were at it, throw in some Porter Rockwell. He is a real cowboy at heart. And when things are amiss, watch out for the hell raisin.'

My dad took on raising two kids on his own after a nasty divorce. My brother and I were 8 and 5. At the time (when I was 12, the custody had been fought over for 5 years), I think he was the only man in Georgia history not to be extradited to another state. Our case went all the way to the Governor of Georgia. I remember being interviewed by him. My dad spent many days in jail fighting for what he thought was the right thing. He spent a lot of money on attorneys to keep us. I guess that blood flows through me, because I just cannot sit by when something is wrong and be quiet. I wish I could and I am learning, that there may be times I will simply need to bound and gag myself. Maybe. Then again, maybe not. Why should anyone sit idly by when one sees what they feel is wrong? I guess that is an answer that must be settled within each of us.

My dad is funny, smarter than a whip, passionate, a great story teller, and I always knew he loved me. He had a dozen pet names for me and allowed me to sit on his lap even as a teen. I'm pretty sure if I sat on his lap now, he'd let me. Even just a few years ago, he'd still pick me up in his arms. I love it when he calls me High Pockets, Long Tall Sally, Little Mouse on the Prairie (shortened to Mouse), and now Blessing. My dad named me at the break of day, when he was driving home from the hospital the day I was born.

He's quite the character and I cannot say I appreciate all of his 'character'istics, but I think on the whole my dad did a pretty good job of bringing us up. He's rough around the edges, a bit flighty, and way too darn far away for my liking most days. He planted gospel seeds that will bless my life for eternity, and I only hope one day I'll be able to help him reap the benefits of what he has given me. My kids adore him. My older ones especially can do nothing but roll on the floor with laughter when his name comes up in our house. The legendary stories fly and I just hope my younger ones will have the same opportunities for those stories. Well, it is Father's Day, so I'll end with him too. Those who read my blog, already know of my sentiments toward the amazing father of my children.

I remember once asking my Dad what he would have done if he had not taken on the task of raising my brother and me. I remember him telling how he would likely have had a cattle ranch somewhere in Montana with a cabin and a horse. But when he told it, I did not feel as if he said it with longing. Only as a matter of fact. And that all that life might have had to offer, and all else that he might have experienced or accomplished, he was content with being a father and mother the best he could to his two children. For that, (and more) I'll always love my dad.

~ Self-sacrifice is the real miracle out of which all the reported miracles grow. ~  Ralph Waldo Emerson

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