The First Man I Ever Loved

My Mom sent this picture to me today in an email. My neice-in-law, Melanie, took it at the Space Needle in October when my nephew Collin got married. I love it so much I wanted to share it with everyone.

My Dad is the first man I ever loved. I wanted to marry someone just like him when I grew up. He is so patient and even-tempered. I can count on one hand the number of times I've heard my Dad raise his voice and he never laid a hand on any of his kids. I know I have shared with many of you some of my childhood experiences with my Dad. I loved my childhood! My Dad and I spent many Saturdays alone while Mom was at work and we really tore up the county. My boys' favorite story from my childhood with my Dad is:

When I was a little girl we lived out in the country. Somehow we inherited a cat (probably from my brother) who was an inside cat only. Once in a while she managed to escape the house and explore the unknown world of the outside. One thing that we didn't know about our precious cat was that she was easy. One time in one of her many adventures, she found herself in the motherly way. Later, she gave birth to a litter of kittens who became outside cats. These cats grew up and started reproducing and before we knew it, we were brewing with cats!

Every Saturday, Dad and I would work outside before we would paint the town. One Saturday Dad was getting ready to mow the lawn. Because we had so many kittens, Dad was afraid that he would run one of them over with the lawnmower. So, he had me gather them all up and shut them in the pump house so they couldn't escape. At this time, I was about 6 or 7. I would gather up a few shut them in the pump house, then go back and gather more. Inevitably, every time I would open the door, at least one would escape. I was getting nowhere with the cats. I got so mad at them that I called them "farts".

In our household growing up, "fart" (sorry, Mom) was the "F" word to my mother. If you said it, you were in BIG trouble. Knowing this and calling the cats by this name instantly brought me to tears. I knew I had done the most horrible thing ever, and my conscience instantly weighed heavy on me. Dad was busy mowing the lawn, I'm sure deep in thought, and I walk up to him bawling my eyes out. He instantly shut off the lawnmower and was concerned over my tears. He asked me what was wrong and I said, "Dad I've done something bad, I called the cats farts!". With a look of dismay on his face he said, "Hell, I don't care!", started the mower and took off, leaving me there standing there in disbelief.

Colby and Taylor ask me to relate this story to them often. They laugh hysterically over the fact that Dad said to me, "Hell, I don't care!". I'm sure many of you probably think that his response is horrid, but to hear my Dad swear is rather hilarious.

I learned so much about my Dad on those Saturdays we spent together. He taught me so much about my grandparents and his childhood. Someday, I'm going to document all of his childhood stories. Dad, I love you! Thanks for so many great memories!