Thinking about my Daddy a little extra this weekend.
He died on February 29, 1988.
My Dad was one of three Bus Drivers in our small community.
When my mother had Ladies Aid in the afternoon,
I would ride his bus route with him, sitting in that first seat behind the driver.
Some of the older girls on the bus would come to sit with me,
Like built-in baby sitters!
After we dropped off the last student,
my Daddy would point to the Glove Box where I’d find a Candy Bar.
It was often a Bing Bar, as there were two pieces in the package,
one for him, one for me.
He’d say, “don’t tell your mother”
Because when we got home, she was also home from Church
and had prepared something for our dinner.
His primary occupation was Farming.
This was a typical coffee break, my daddy sitting on the running board of his truck,
with a cup of coffee, a sandwich, and homebaked cookie.
During the harvest, neighboring farmers would often
work together to bring in the crops.
When I was in High School, my parents had the opportunity
to purchase the Family Farmstead.
He would be heartbroken to see what
the waters of Devils Lake have done to our land.
We had the privilege of living in this beautiful family home,
built by his grandfather.
And he’d be heartbroken to see what vandals
have done to this house.
My Daddy was a man of few words,
But his silence spoke volumes.
I miss him.
Take care,
~Natalie
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