I will never forget the way I felt when my family and I would get in the car to go visit him. I grew more anxious and excited through each passing mile. I remember when we finally arrived at his house and I would run as fast as I could to be the first one to hug him. His embrace was so comforting, like wrapping a warm blanket around you on a cold, blustery day. He was a tall, stern man with many years of hard work behind him. His hair was turning gray with his age but he never let that stop him from getting his work done. He was a strong, God-fearing man who never asked for anyone’s help. His kindness was his most inspiring attribute and what I will forever miss the most.
When I was younger I remember how excited he would get when we would come and visit him. He lived out in the country and worked on a farm his whole life. I would always be the first one to tag along with him helping round up and feed his cows. He had a graceful way in which he dealt with his cattle, and they knew exactly how to behave whenever he was around. He would never let any of them suffer, and took extra care of the calves without mothers as he would one of his own children. I remember if the cattle got too close, or I was ever afraid his hand was the first one I would grab. They were rough like sandpaper, but so tender with emotion he held back all of my fears.
He always wore the same thing whenever I would see him. If the weather was nice he would be sitting in a chair outside on the patio overlooking his pasture and cattle. He would be dressed in a button up short sleeve shirt with a collar. They were usually vertically striped and the top two buttons would be undone after his long day of work. He always wore dark colored Levi’s which would be partially tucked inside his boots. He would have his glasses clipped either along the buttons in the middle of his shirt or hanging outside the pocket. Sitting right next to him would be a tall glass of ice water condensing in the hot sun. His gray hair was thick and wavy like the wind had blown it gently into place. It was always parted to the side comfortably and neat every time I saw him.
Whenever I would run up to him, after he picked me up and hugged me real tight, he would prop me upon his knee. He would bounce his knee up and down and sing a gentle chorus of “Froggie Went A-Courtin”. I remember the gentle tone of his voice and how it sounded so smooth like the way a mountain stream flows down a path. It was the most comforting sound I had ever heard. He had this soft and gentle way about him as if he would never let anything bad happen to me.
As I grew older and my family moved away I didn’t get to see him as much anymore. The years moved swiftly robbing me of the time I did not realize would become very short. I remember the last visit after he had been diagnosed with cancer. He acted like his same ole self, squeezing me real tight when I ran to greet him, and never let the cancer get the best of him. I remember the way he smelled, and the way his voice sounded so sweetly in my ears. When our visit was over and it was time to return home we went to his store to visit him one last time. After we all said goodbye, I ran back inside for one last hug. As I told him I loved him and started to turn away I saw a tear glisten as it rolled down his tired face. In that instance I knew it would be the last time I would be comforted by his gentle embrace. It was in that instance I knew my life would never be the same.
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