Papa was a humble man with a hidden sense of humor.
One of his favorite sayings was, “Eat dessert first in case of the rapture.”
Papa was a man of few words, but when he spoke, it was worth listening. He taught us so many memorable lessons—in both word and in deed.
When evening on the ranch was grey
His footsteps on the path were heard.
Before the dawn he would awake,
And work until the evening came.
Dear Papa, I knew something was wrong that morning. I woke up at your house and you weren’t sitting there at your table by the fire. You were always there. Every morning and every evening. At night you were making notes on your veterinary clients of the day. At daybreak you were taking notes on…
My maternal grandfather’s birthday is today. It seemed a fitting time to share this piece I wrote ten years ago for a college writing class. Happy Birthday, Papa! Thanks for your example and all the memories. I love you. Stepping lightly over the hot wire fence alongside my cousin Melissa, I recall the day not…
It’s the dirt and saw dust and chainsaw bar oil on my daddy’s clothes and hands and face every night when he came home from work. It’s the way my husband’s kisses taste of sweat and soil, the way his laundry has the lingering traces of manure and mud. It’s the way my brother works…
The End.
The End.