I am reminded often of Daddy, and miss him even though he died in 1982. He was honest, hard working, a man of faith and love for his family. He was a good businessman, a good cook, a good son, a good brother, a good husband, and a good father. He worked hard in the cafes which he and my mother owned, and worked even harder taking care of a small herd of cattle on the land he bought from my grandparents an acre or two at a time to help them financially. He liked growing things, planting a small pecan and plumb orchard, and growing seasonal vegetables in his garden. In my mind I have vignettes of him grafting pecan trees, pinching suckers and picking tomatoes, calling his cows with his truck horn, and throwing out feed and hay to them. Other pictures of him have him baking fresh yeast rolls, rolling out pie crust, grilling hamburgers, and making chicken fried steak. At my request, he would put a spoon of mashed potatoes on the grill with some chopped onions - I loved fried mashed potatoes! When he was at work in the cafe he wore a short white cap and , a fresh white apron, and when he came home he smelled like hamburgers!
He loved his grandsons. He took Sean fishing and to feed the cows. He let Ben play with the hose in the front yard and Ben turned the hose on him! I have a picture of Jeremy, our middle son, when he was a baby with one of Daddy's old felt fedoras on. After his death, I kept Daddy's hat on the shelf in my bedroom along with one of his belts and his whetstone. They have all since been given to the grandsons, but I can almost touch them in my mind. His hugs still touch my heart.
