Nope, that is not a typo. Some say Father, some say Dad, but with a proper southern drawl, “Deddy” was how I always said Daddy.
My father was bigger than life to me, especially since I was so short and he was so tall. He was a strong man in more ways than one.
In going through family pictures recently, I have grown to appreciate his strength even more. Through these pictures I have followed the journey of his courtship with my mother, their marriage, their dreams of farm life and raising four children together…
…then to have it all come crashing down when my mother died only 13 years into their marriage. Not only did he lose the love of his life, but he also made a career change in order to take care of his family and pay for my mother’s medical bills. He went from farmer to insurance salesman, though his heart was never far from the corn field. He was an expert in hybrid corn development.
I never heard my daddy complain and I never saw him really cry. He was of that post war generation that kept their problems to themselves and “carried on”. I’m not saying that was healthy for him or for us, but looking back I don’t really know how he shouldered the burden of it all.
Of course like most children, I did not appreciate it at the time and wish I could go back to say “thank you” a million times over for so many things.
Daddy had always wanted to hear me play Chopin's Military Polonaise in A major, Op. 40, No. 1. He bought me the sheet music in high school but sadly I did not learn it before his sudden death in March of my senior year. I did finally perform it on my sophomore recital in college in his honor. I know he would have loved it. Here is the first minute of that performance.
Welcome to my Blog! I would love to hear from you!