Courage, sometimes you don’t know just how much you possess
until you need it. I learned about
courage from both of the dads in my life.
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| My dad, Jack. Not too many pictures of him and none ever captured him smiling |
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| My dad growing up on a ranch in Montana |
I grew up the daughter of a bricklayer and in the
construction trade, it is ether feast or famine. So basically we grew up very poor and always
moving to follow work. I didn’t much
like my childhood with its chaotic transient style life. I wanted normal, a dad
who went to work at a job in morning and returned home at night with mom who
stayed at home and did those mom things like be a Sunday school teacher and 4H
leader. Instead we were sort of like
gypsies who traveled in a 10x50 mobile home following the next lead of promising
work. Mom had to work to help support us. Later explained to me by my dad, (Jack), he
felt stifled in the old mining town where he and my mom grew up, so he mustered
up his courage to move his young family on a quest for a better life. My dad is a good man and loved us in his
quiet way, but he has always been a loner, rarely smiling and sort of an
intense man. He was brilliant in his work life. He encouraged those around him
to unleash their true potential and seek out that creative spirit. He truly fits the “artistic” profile. Before his stroke took away his livelihood,
he was an artist in stonework. There are
masons and then there are masons who transform stone into an artwork. He was the latter. From him I learned the value of a good work
ethic and our lifestyle forced me to always land on my feet in any given situation.
A life lesson that I continue to draw
upon as well, my life seems to emulate a roller coaster sometimes.
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| Left, my step-dad, Doug talking with my former father-in-law, Andy. This is a favorite picture of mine, these two old geezers solving the world's problems |
My other dad, Doug married my mom when I was about 20, and
it was from him that my brothers and I learned about family time. Of course, I always thought I was his
favorite, and he would put up with my antics. Such as every single croquette
game we played at their ranch-ette, I’d grab my brothers and together we’d
design a not-so-normal course by carefully placing the metal brackets in front
of horse or cow turds, thereby dubbing our game “barnyard croquette”……. Plus it
was an “extreme course” in their pasture and the game wound its way over creek beds, over their covered
bridge and under propane tanks. So guess a word to the wise, don’t let me
loose especially where my brothers are involved – because who knows what will happen.
As I look back, it was a magical time in our lives and treasured memories will
always live in my mind. We enjoyed many
BBQ’s and being the only vegetarian in the family, Doug would always ask me, “how
do you like your steak? Of which I’d
reply “on someone else’s plate” - it was
a ritual. Every holiday was spent with
my mom, step-dad and my side of the family. He truly loved us and to him we were his kids. Late in life he was diagnosed with bone
cancer, and he would never concede he had it, fighting to the very end. It was when I was with him and witnessed his
last rite, that the thought struck me, while he could have bought almost
anything he wanted, but in the end it’s not the money that brings happiness, it’s
the memories made from a life well lived.
From him I learned about the kind of fatherly love and about the kind of
courage it takes to fight till the end, no matter the odds.
With that, I wish you a Happy Father’s Day.
As always, thank you for stopping by and feel free to email
me at swheatfarmlife@gmail.com as
I love to hear from you. All my best,
Gayle
