WWC: Labor of Love
Courtesy of Odd Mix, the words are Honor and Love.In honor of my dad, this is a little story about his labor of love.
I think of my dad as the consummate outdoorsman, jack-of-all trades, father, husband, provider and just about any other good thing you could think of. I was the child the doctors said my parents would never have. When they finally gave up, just before age 40, that is when I came along. I believe he thought of me as the son he didn't mind not having. From my very earliest recollection, what he did...so did I.
As a side note, Willi and I got up at 4:30 this morning to pick up some risers he had taken to church, before we started our work day. We had a concert to benefit Coats for Kids and the musicians needed a "little lift". *snort* Anyway, as we were driving to the church Willi commented that he enjoyed getting up early; it brought back many good memories of time spent with his father. I had not made the connection until he did, then I got this warm and fuzzy feeling with my rememberings.
I loved getting up in what seemed like the middle of the night to crawl in the car and ride with my dad. Sometimes we would go hunting at Willow Slough, or fishing at my grammas on Lake Dale. In the winter he would ice fish and I would take my skates for when the sun came up. For awhile he owned a dump truck and would make some extra bucks on Saturdays hauling black dirt. We would get up way before dawn to get the first load out early, squeezing in as many loads as the daylight hours would allow. I would ride alongside him all day with a bucket of crayons and my coloring books. Those early morning hours were the neatest. The roads would be empty and the sky big and dark, but I was always safe, sound, and glad to be with my dad.
This picture was taken when I was two. My guess is that I couldn't quite keep up, or maybe I wasn't old enough to hang on to the sled yet. I do know that he crafted the box so that I could ride on the sled as he pulled it. Some might not have had the time or inclination for such a project. Some might have called it work. By the look on his face, I think he enjoyed it and might have considered it a labor of love.
I think of my dad as the consummate outdoorsman, jack-of-all trades, father, husband, provider and just about any other good thing you could think of. I was the child the doctors said my parents would never have. When they finally gave up, just before age 40, that is when I came along. I believe he thought of me as the son he didn't mind not having. From my very earliest recollection, what he did...so did I.
As a side note, Willi and I got up at 4:30 this morning to pick up some risers he had taken to church, before we started our work day. We had a concert to benefit Coats for Kids and the musicians needed a "little lift". *snort* Anyway, as we were driving to the church Willi commented that he enjoyed getting up early; it brought back many good memories of time spent with his father. I had not made the connection until he did, then I got this warm and fuzzy feeling with my rememberings.
I loved getting up in what seemed like the middle of the night to crawl in the car and ride with my dad. Sometimes we would go hunting at Willow Slough, or fishing at my grammas on Lake Dale. In the winter he would ice fish and I would take my skates for when the sun came up. For awhile he owned a dump truck and would make some extra bucks on Saturdays hauling black dirt. We would get up way before dawn to get the first load out early, squeezing in as many loads as the daylight hours would allow. I would ride alongside him all day with a bucket of crayons and my coloring books. Those early morning hours were the neatest. The roads would be empty and the sky big and dark, but I was always safe, sound, and glad to be with my dad.
This picture was taken when I was two. My guess is that I couldn't quite keep up, or maybe I wasn't old enough to hang on to the sled yet. I do know that he crafted the box so that I could ride on the sled as he pulled it. Some might not have had the time or inclination for such a project. Some might have called it work. By the look on his face, I think he enjoyed it and might have considered it a labor of love.
posted by gawilli at 6:51 PM
18 Comments:
What sweet rememberings, and your pictures and your story certainly exemplify the words "Honor" and "Love." Those early morning hours are my favorite time to be up and about. A time when the rest of the world is asleep, and the day has just begun. Your memories with your dad during these quiet hours are priceless. The sled that your dad made is beautiful.
I feel so good everytime I read about your family and growing up years. I love that you still have the little box. What memories it must hold.
So sweet! I love that you still have it. Great story. I have one like it too. Before I was born my Dad built me a tiny cradle. It took him three months to get "just right." I only slept in it once though. Apparently he'd built the bars too far apart and I wiggled my head through and got stuck. I still have it. Although I have no idea what to DO with it. :)
I used to ride out with my grandfather to change the water at the farms on his route -- at all hours of the day or night. It was heaven, sitting in the front seat of his car, singing along with the radio and chewing on Sen-Sen
That is just such a sweet story. I love the old photo too. You were such a bonny baby!
I used to go with my father when he made house calls (the good old days when doctors came to your door and treated everybody in the house). I would sit in the car and wait for him to come out. Those were precious moments.
Dads are special.They can do things and make things. They can figure out how to keep their daughter out of the stove by placing a 1 x 2 into the door handles. Dads are just smart that way. Or maybe it was Mom?
Thanks for visiting! I love the story of your dad and the little sled is too cute. Please keep visiting my blog...would love to have you! :)
Thanks for visiting! I love the story of your dad and the little sled/box is too cute. Please keep visiting my blog...would love to have you! :)
Mjd, you are right. I still love these early morning hours even just staying at home when the world is quiet and the day is new.
Deb - The memories of my dad are particularly fond to me. I try hard to hold on to them so they do not fade with the years. He has been gone since 1974, when I was 18. I wish I would have had more time with him as I never even knew him in my adult years.
Tink - wonder if you could use something similar to bumper pads with your cradle? They would be relatively easy to make and do not have to be very thick to suit your purpose.
Maya's Granny and Betty - we are kindred spirits all having similar experiences although distances apart. They really were precious moments.
Peggy! Glad you stopped by. I was so glad to find this photo. It seems to give life to the box sled, particularly for my family.
Daddy D - I would have to say that dads and moms are both smart that way - but dads are really special.
Gracey, thanks for stopping by and so glad you joined in the WWC! The more the merrier.
That was a nice post and it really made me smile when I saw the photo of you and your dad and the sled.
Awwwwwww!!!!!!!!!!!!
That is so wonderful! Your pops looks thrilled to be doing that for you. What a guy.
Reminded me of my dad who was a carpenter and made many of my toys in wartime 'toyless' Britain.
oh so sweet thanks for sharing
This post made me cry. It reminded me of Hubby's grandpa. He was such a quiet, hardworking man with a heart of gold. He built dollhouses for each of his grand-daughters complete with tiny furniture and furnishings sewn by grandma. He passed away when Hubby and I were in undergrad. I will never forget how many people attended his funeral and told wonderful heart felt stories about how he always took the time for them. Thanks for giving me the warm fuzzy feeling with my rememberings :-)
What a great post. Thank you for sharing your memories and bringing many of my own to mind.
It took me a good minutes for the tears to subside before I could comment. What a lovely story and rememberings of a great man. Thank you for sharing him with us.
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