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Daddy would call me every so often just to chat a while. It would begin with laughter and then sometimes turn serious. One night a few years before he died he called because our mother was very sick. He began with
joking and laughing. Then the subject of death came up. He said, " Baby when someone dies, the family cries, buries them and then they wipe their tears and forget them." That thought broke my heart and I gasp a
choking sob and replied, "Daddy how can you say that! We could never forget you!" He replied, " You can not live a good life if you continuously think about those from your past. I wouldn't want that for any of my
children. When I die, I want you to wipe your tears, forget me and go on living." If Daddy only knew how often he is thought of or how often my sister and I turn our conversation to Daddy. Maybe he never
realized what a great father he was but his children will never forget. 
As you can see when I was little clothes were not high on a child's priority list especially in the summertime. No one looked funny at a small child running around playing outside in their underwear. However,
when Daddy went somewhere you better bet I was headed for the house for clothes. If he left the house and was not going to work I tried my best to be sitting beside him.
Daddy worked as a timber contractor and the weather burned his skin into a bronze leather tone. His complexion was naturally dark to begin with and I always thought of him as a tall dark handsome Indian Chief. On
Saturdays we would go into town for Daddy to pay bills or pick up supplies and as I walked along beside him, I would run to keep up with one of Daddy's steps. Daddy we will never forget you! Turn the pages of
Daddy's book and get to know him:)
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