My Dad was born 87 years ago today.
This post is for him . . .
|Daddy, Me and |
Dad and Mom had decided to move our family into our town house.
To save Mom some of the driving duties.
But my Dad was the lone veterinarian in the Milk River area.
His practice covered may hundreds of square miles.
A lot of ground.
Add to that, his own ranching duties and the requirements of a husband and father.
'Busy' would have been a vast understatement.
He did it all.
But sacrifice was required.
Usually in the form of early and late hours spent away from his family.
And now, with his family ensconced in the house in town, Dad had even more time away from us.
Oh, we saw him occasionally.
Just not often enough.
I missed him.
He was the centre of my four-year-old world.
Town life was also difficult in other ways.
When we were living on the ranch, we had no neighbours.
Other than those employed there.
Living in town, we did.
And we discovered that those neighbours observed eachother's actions.
They noticed when Dad left the house at 4 AM.
And returned sometime after midnight.
On occasion, they commented . . .
It was a beautiful, sunny summer day.
I should have been napping.
But had escaped as soon as Mom had dozed off.
I was playing happily in the yard with other kids from the neighbourhood.
I'm not sure what we were doing.
Probably something we shouldn't.
A truck came down the street.
A familiar truck.
I stared at it.
Then squealed happily and ran towards the drive way.
As soon as he stepped from the vehicle, I launched myself at him.
Still screaming happily.
He scooped me up for a big hug.
Then, carrying me, started to walk towards the house.
Our neighbour was standing on his driveway.
Dad looked at him. “You'd think she was happy to see me,” he said.
“I'm surprised she knows you!” came the response.
Who can be counted on for anything.
Especially pointing out our shortcomings.