His friends called him Willie. Folks who didn’t know him often called him Bill. My mother called him William. I called him Dad. He had a great smile and there was always a twinkle in his eyes. He demonstrated faith and love every day of his life. He was my hero.
Every evening when he came home from work Dad would stop his car at the corner of our street. Cars then had running boards on the outside. The entire neighborhood would start running toward him shouting, ”Sue’s dad is home.” Then about twenty kids would pile onto the running boards and he would drive down the street with us laughing and hanging on to the car. It was one of the day’s highlights. Sometimes he took me fishing, but he always put the worm on the hook. He didn’t want his girl to get her fingers messy. The fact that I played in the mud and dug up worms later seemed to be lost on him. He loved to get dressed up and take his little girl out. He showed me off to everyone. I always knew I was his favorite child and held a very special place in the heart of this good man.
I was the youngest child and the only girl. I was his little princess, spoiled rotten and I liked it that way. On Mother’s Day and Easter Dad always gave my mother and me beautiful corsages to wear to church. When I was sick he sent me beautiful roses. He made feel beautiful and adored.
I miss my dad.
3 comments:
I remember that he always crumbled cornbread in a tall glass of milk. He always smelled like pipe tobacco. And Grandma told me she loved the way he filled out a pair of pants.
Very nice.
Oh my gosh! That felt EXACTLY like a hug of the biggest, warmest love. I love your dad, too!
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