-Isms: Views on life in rural america

Emily Dickinson wrote, “Hold dear to your parents for it is a scary and confusing world without them.”

So true.

I’ve been sentimental lately, tears have flowed fairly steadily, as Father’s Day nears.

I cannot count the number of times, since the new year started, I would be watching a Husker basketball or baseball game and think, “I need to call Dad and remind him the Huskers are playing.”

I cannot count the number of times I hear some song pop on the radio and I am transported to Clay Center to my childhood home. It’s early morning and, as we all get ready to for school, Dad is singing along with Glen Campbell’s “Wichita Lineman” or some other ‘70s country hit.

I cannot count the number of times I think about sipping wine on thirsty Thursdays or spending weekends in the fall traveling across the country to watch the Husker football team play or stopping by the tiny corner newsstand in Hastings so he could pick up newspapers and magazines of interest or watching him type a weekly letter to my grandparents on an old Smith-Corona manual typewriter.

And, I have been reminiscing about Father’s Days of the past and all the fun and funny things that come to mind. Like when Dad would spy a new plaid shirt in the J.C. Penney catalog, order it and tell Mom he ordered his Father’s Day gift. Classic.

One of my favorite dad’s day memories happened about 10 years ago. We took Mom and Dad to Yankton to see a Ford Trimotor airplane. Dad was an aviation enthusiast and he enjoyed checking out the unique aircraft. My only regret is that I didn’t insist harder that he take a ride in the plane. He told me he was hungry and wanted to get to JoDean’s. I’m guessing he was already contemplating which dessert to choose.

When Dad was at the care center in Battle Creek, I would visit nearly every Sunday morning. I would call before I ventured there to see if he needed anything, primarily a box of Hot Tamales or a bag of M&Ms. He would ask if I planned to stop at Casey’s, and if I was, would I bring a raspberry flip. We’d watch church services together and he’d nibble on the puffy pastry while we chatted about current events and sports and how much he missed Mom.

I stopped at the convenience store last week and while waiting in line, I swear I heard Dad tell me, “Go ahead. Get a raspberry flip.”

So I did. A little indulgence doesn’t hurt, right?

I am angry that during the last nine months of his life, most of our visits were spent next to the window in his room, a glass barrier between us. I am angry that loneliness and isolation contributed to his decline. Each day, that bitterness fades because I am grateful I was able to spend 59 years of my life with such an incredible man. The good memories outweigh the crushing blow the pandemic caused and I choose to keep those all those moments close.

Losing a parent is scary. You’ve relied on them and they have been a constant source of inspiration and reasoning for so long, it’s difficult to know how you will continue without their physical presence. The thing is, they are still with you. Those instilled values don’t go away.

If your dad (or the person who filled that role in your life) still walks this earth, give them an extra hug, not only this Sunday, but every time you see them. Cherish every moment and do not take time with them for granted.

And, go ahead. Get the raspberry flip.

Happy Father’s Day, Dad. Love you and miss you.