Three and Forty
Posted on 20. Apr, 2009 by Deb in Observations
The gentle humor of my father is a constant of my childhood. thinking on his upbringing makes me wonder about how we are shaped in the whole nature vs. nurture side of things. Of course, it makes me wonder about my own self, because I see how my mother’s behavior has affected me, however, I digress, as I was discussing my father.
When my father was born, he was premature. Advancements in dealing with preemies has certainly made strides and in the 1930′s, there wasn’t much that could be done. The doctor, after delivering my father, suggested he be placed on the door of the oven. A farmer down the road had suffered a heart attack and he needed to go. When he came back for the body the next day, he was surprised to see my father alive. In the early 1980′s, we discovered that the doctor had filed the birth certificate as “still born”; my mother complained that my father was named after the doctor due to that little discovery.
The family had a working farm. I don’t quite see how they survived the depression, but I do know that my grandfather assisted in the building of The Rock Gym, which was part of WPA. They continued to farm, and my father was part of that needed process. Besides growing vegetables for the family, they grew crops for sale. They rotated the growth of winter wheat, maize, hay, and, of course, cotton. My father started school late every year, but with a class size of twelve students, the school understood. He attended school at the same location where, years before, his father had contributed to the building of the school gym.
My father is stoop-shouldered, and recently mentioned to me that it was due to the number of hours on a tractor during his youth. His father was a harsh critic, and as the only boy in a family of four children, he took the load of the physical labor. Maybe it is where he got his work ethic, which has been strong as long as I can remember. He didn’t retire the end of 2007, and he still helps cover for vacations at his company.
It is difficult to see how he has aged; he is my father and should be the same as he was when I was a child. The heart attack was hard on him, and this injury to his back has slowed him. I’m thankful that his sense of humor has remained. When he makes me laugh, I’m not forty, but three again.