Cowgirl V: Remembering and Still Missing Him
Today, (February 17) would have been my dad’s 92nd birthday. I can hardly believe he’s been gone over 20 years. Seems like yesterday I last heard his voice, saw his face. Time assuages grief, but rarely a day goes by that I don’t think of something I would like to talk to him about. He was reserved and shy to those he did not know well, but at home there was lots of conversation about so many things. I suppose that is what I miss most. Discussing books, politics, religion—so many things he was interested in. He was born in 1922 to young parents who did not belong together. His mother was loving and faithful, but his young father (barely 20 years old) was not up to fatherhood and left to seek employment in Utah. He did not see his son until he was almost three years old. There little interest shown and the resulting pain of indifference and broken promises. I’ll never forget my d...