Missing my dad

I was a daddy's girl, I will admit it. We were a lot alike. We were both fiercely stubborn but more times than not thought a great deal alike. He and I would hang out on the back steps or watching tv. Because I was a skinny little kid I could fit next to my dad in his big chair. We'd watch tv, eat popcorn and enjoy life.

My dad's birthday was Nov. 1 and many years since his death I'd make his traditional favorite meal, roast, potatoes and sometimes I'd made a German chocolate cake-all his favorites. My dad would have been 98-years old this year.

I went through some good and bad times with my dad. He taught me how to be fiercely independent. He taught me how to do things on my own, for myself. But he also had his old school ways of thinking like I should make my brother's bed-no way, nor how was that going to happen, nor did it ever happen. Yes, dad and I butted heads at times regarding life.

I unfortunately inherited migraine headaches and dad was the one who picked me up from school the first time I got a migraine. He said he knew immediately what was wrong with me when he picked me up and I tried to put my foot in the vomit bucket instead of my shoe because I could not see! He was the one who insisted taking me to the ER on two occasions when those migraines got so bad I could not function or handle the pain and was asking if I was going to die. Heredity is not always a good thing.

I was in junior high when my dad sunk into a deep depression and ended up in the hospital. The ugly world of depression would rear it's ugly head in my life for my dad on several occasions throughout my teen years. I learned to to run a house and farm along with my brother due to dad's depression. After going to school all day I would come home and put on my farmers daughter hat then help with planting or harvesting, whatever the season it was. And the livestock chores would become part of my life, morning and night. I was helping my brother play catch up along with my mom when she didn't go up to the hospital to be with my dad. It was a tough time and made my brother and I grow up very quickly taking on adult roles and responsibilities. But I never thought of not doing the work or not stepping up to help. I never blamed my dad while doing my homework sitting in the cab of a tractor or doing hog chores at 11 p.m. at night, it's just what we did.

My dad was the handiest guy I knew. I could share an idea or vision and he usually could make it a reality. Times got better for dad after I left for college. The depression seemed to ebb and life and my dad returned to a new normal.

My dad battled Parkinson's disease in his later year, and it would lead to his death. It breaks my heart yet whenever I see someone with the shakes from this disease. It is a nasty disease that I hope a cure is someday found.

But every year as November 1 rolls around my heart remembers and is sad and I miss my dad a little bit more along with all the other days of the year that I miss him. He loved his birthday. It was a holy day he always pointed out! And he loved sharing the story of how he would have been a halloween baby if the doctor would have gotten to the house sooner but the doctor way delayed due to halloween shenanigans-outhouses turned over in the road that he had to move to get his horse and buggy through on his way to the house! My how times have changed!

So once again my heart aches a little bit more on dad's special day, and I'll wear red, my dad's favorite color on Nov. 1 and will make his favorite meal sometime soon to celebrate. It makes my heart happy to see my dad in my kids in so many ways. And I know I was loved by my dad and I loved him right back. Happy birthday Dad, I love and miss you.