An Iowa Hawkeye sweater

As I finish switching from spring/summer to fall/winter clothing this morning I ran across my dad's Iowa Hawkeye sweater. It's been over 18 years and I find this sweater every fall when I take it out of storage and again in the spring when I put it back in a container to store for the warm months. And to be honest, if I've worn the sweater it has been only one or two times. When I started this "tradition" 17 or 18 years ago I know the tears fell and honestly there were a few today. I can see my dad wearing this sweater yet. He was more of an Iowa Hawkeye men's basketball fan rather than football, purely for the fact that he was harvesting in the fall so Saturday football games were not a thing he had time for. You harvested when Mother Nature cooperated.

So today, once again, I ran across this sweater. It no longer smells like my dad, Old Spice was his choice of cologne, or as I always teased him calling it Old Swill! He would laugh every time I'd tell him he smelled good, like Old Swill!! The smell of Old Spice will take me back to my dad and bring back memories at the first whiff whenever I smell it now-they must still make it!

I'm a fall kind of person. I loved harvest time. Honestly, I loved every season on the farm, except for the sweltering hot days of summer and baling hay. So as fall rolls around every year I go back to the farm, harvest, my dad, the sights, smells and all that goes with it.

With the rainy weather we've had this year, I know my dad would be worrying and fretting about getting harvest done and the cost to dry the grain to store it and winterizing everything. I've been off the farm longer than I've been on it now, but I still miss it.

So today when that sweater surfaced I could picture my dad and hear his voice in my head....precious memories. And I would not trade them for anything in the world. All the time, visits, gas money, phone bills, effort, everything was so worth it now as I look back. As I was busy growing up, going to school, getting married and having a family I wanted to keep in touch. My parents were my go-to when I had a question or needed comfort and as I was growing up, they were growing older.

My mom used to go to church every weekday morning at 8 a.m. I would purposely call home after 8 a.m. just so my dad would have to answer the phone, and we would talk, often times until mom would get home from church other times just for five minutes. Dad would typically listen on the phone in the basement when my mom and I talked all the other times, occasionally joining in the conversation. But I would call and talk when mom was gone so just he and I could talk. And once after dad has passed away I called after 8 a.m. wanting to talk and hear his voice one more time, but no one answered. The phone just rang, he didn't pick up the phone. It was a moment of the grieving process for me that hurt like hell.

And now I'm glad I called. I made those phone calls for selfish reasons. For me. For the opportunity. For the memories. And man am I glad I did that. What I would give to be able to do that one more time.

So today the Iowa Hawkeye sweater will go on the shelf with the other sweaters and I'm going to try to make an effort to wear it, even if it's just once, for my dad, for me, for the memories. I miss my dad but I'm so blessed with so many memories. I so glad I made the effort, took the time and spent time with him.

Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened-thanks Dr. Seuss.