- Bliv medlem
-
Du er ikke logget ind
Log ind Opret dig
Du er ikke logget ind
Beskrivelse
At the age of seventy, my dad sat down at his desk with a yellow pad ofpaper and began writing stories--stories of growing up on a farm andattending a one-room schoolhouse (Dad graduated top in his class. The onlyother eighth grader came in second!) He wrote of his life in the army, ofmeeting and marrying my mom, and raising a family on a farm of his own.He spent the next eleven years adding to his book of stories, sharing themwith anyone who would listen.It was New Year's Day, 2014, when my folks, Sis, and I had our final lunchtogether (We grew up calling the noon meal dinner and the evening mealsupper. Lunch was served when you had family over on Saturday night,around 9:00 PM, but I digress.) Dad passed away suddenly later that day,and the job of telling stories passed to me. Initially, writing these storiesdown was a way to grieve him.The project grew and the stories kept coming, especially on evenings Momand I spent at her new home 'in town'. Life on the farm without Dad wasn'tthe same, and, anyway, she'd grown tired of mowing the grass. Then, onNew Year's Day, just six years after Dad, Sis and I lost Mom. Our folks haddone everything together for sixty years; I guess we shouldn't have beensurprised.In these pages you'll find stories that celebrate our family, memories of whatseem like more innocent years, and tales of growing up in rural Illinois.They are a collection, some from those yellow pad pages of Dad's, somefrom the quiet evenings reminiscing with Mom, most from the memoriesstill clear in my mind.