"I Remember My Dad"

I remember many things about my Dad, but a few times in particular stand out in my mind.. I remember trips to the early morning cotton patch, the way the dew felt as it soaked my overall pant legs, and the smell of honeysuckle and wild plum blossoms that seemed to fill the air in the early morning Spring.. I remember falling asleep once on Dad's Farmall tractor, as he plowed late into the night after working hard at a public job all day.. Even that old tractor has a special place in my heart, the way the hood felt warm and comforting against the cold damp air, and even the way the oil and gas fumes smelled; are still heavy in my mind even today.. I took pride in the shape of my bare feet prints, in the fresh plowed dirt in the Spring, as its cool dampness gave nothing but pleasure to a boys feet, after being trapped in shoes all winter. In the Summer when Dad was cultivating, I'd walk behind him, kicking clods, thinking I'm sure being helpful. Dad took pride in his cotton and it showed when he would bring in the first cotton blooms, green bolls, and open cotton into the house with his face shining. In the Fall when we'd pick that cotton, we'd often sit down in the middle of the row and burst open a watermelon no bigger than a cantaloupe, but somehow I've never tasted any sweeter than those were then. On the weekend which was on my mind all week, I got to go with Dad to the cotton gin. I took pride in dressing as much like Dad as possible and I felt as big as he was.. I went all the way through the cotton gin with Dad and knew the whole process.. They called me Little Harold at the gin, and on leaving to go home if they gave Dad a trailer reflector, then they gave me one too.. I took pride in being called Little Harold.. I tried to make my hair curl in front just like Dad's.. I didn't get to spend a lot of time with dad as a little boy, because Dad worked most of the time to make a living.. I tried to walk, smile, and talk like him. Yes, I remember my Dad, but rather than try and pull out special episodes, I have to say; I'm still loving the man my Dad was. That's how I remember my Dad. Dad went to Heaven on July 23, 1998. His name still is Harold Wood. Dad I'll see you later.

Written by Bob Wood

If you love your Dad, Mom, brother,sister, Grandparent,child or anyone else, then please tell them so today, or as soon as possible. life is shorter than we think, and we may not have tommorrow......Bro. Bob Wood

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Copyright 1998 Bob Wood

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