Sunday, June 15th, is Father’s Day. I knew what my father did for a living because he was a farmer and was at work when he walked out of the house through the back door. I was fortunate to spend a lot of time with him because my mother worked beside him most of the time so as an only child, I was there, too.
On the family farm. there were child-sized jobs. I remember one of my tasks during the summer fly season when Dad was milking cows by hand. He would have me hold on to a cow’s tail so she couldn’t switch him in the face while he was seated beside her. I felt so proud standing there on the walkway ’cause I was helping Dad.
As I grew older, I chose cleaning the manure from the barn gutters with Dad instead of dusting furniture in the house with Mom.
It was always the three of us–we worked together and played together. I went along to visit friends, attend a public card party at a nearby Grange Hall or a Saturday night dance at an area ballroom.
Dad was an ideal model when I chose a husband. I thought it amusing that he seemed more nervous than I was when he walked me down the church aisle at my wedding. At the time, I didn’t realize it was the end of an era for him–he went from being the number one man in my life to number two after my new husband.
My dad was a patient grandfather. Our three kids spent a lot of time at the farm because they were the only grandchildren and my folks were their only grandparents. Dad always answered the kid’s questions even if it was just “Why?”
A dairy farmer doesn’t have a day off but he doesn’t have a boss breathing down his neck either. Sometimes, he rearranged his workload to accommodate fun things he wanted to do with his family.
What kind of a relationship did you have with your dad?