♪ ♫ She grew up on the side of the road
Where the church bells ring
and strong love grows
She grew up good
She grew up slow
Like American honey ♪ ♫
We grew up right by the old country church where my dad was confirmed. He and his family went to that church for years. I remember my grandpa and grandma Hob and Erna pulling in the driveway after church on Sundays in their old brown car. They sat every Sunday in the same pew, by the squawky hearing aide so that Grandpa could hear. I don't know about other churches, but at Palisade Lutheran, it was like everybody had assigned seating. We loved sitting by Grandpa and Grandma. We were baptized there, confirmed there, and I was married there. Looking out the front windows of our home, we would see that pretty and peaceful old country church, where most of our neighbors went too. And yes, the church bells would ring. I love that old church. It was where Dad's funeral service was held, and in my fog that day, I missed hearing the church bells ring joyously, celebrating his going to Heaven. I wish that I had heard that.
Strong love definitely grew. Not only my parents, but also their parents, and my aunts and uncles. Marriages were solid, and couples didn't quit. Our parents loved us so much. We always knew that, it was a given. The importance of love and family is something that we learned early.
We were protected but not overly sheltered. Dad and Mom didn't feel that we needed to work jobs in high school, because we had all of our lives to work. Yet we were expected to help at home, in the house, and with whatever chores, gardening, mowing, baling or horse chasing needed to be done. We grew up knowing the value of hard work, and it shapes us to this day.
We had good childhoods. That 16 acre place on highway 23 was a wonderful place to raise kids. It was HOME. We had good neighbors and room to run. At one time or another, we had a goat, ducks, geese, chickens, pigs, sheep, cats, dogs, alpacas, and always tons of horses. We were blessed.
Yesterday was an emotional, yet comforting day. Mom, Erin and I went to Garretson to pick up Dad's cremains from the funeral home. We then drove by the acreage, and decided to stop in to see if the new owner was home. We didn't get an answer (so weird to have to knock at that door!) so we took the liberty of walking around outside a little bit. We saw lots of changes (the house is RED) and fences and gates removed. There are sheep in the pasture instead of horses. Erin and I walked down by the granery and toward the pump and barn. It was so comforting to smell the smell of old horse poop, alpaca and dirt by the granery. It gave a sense of Dad. And yes, Dad in his work clothes and cap did tend to smell like horse poop and dirt after working outside all day. But it was good smells, and a good feeling and I wish that I could bottle that smell up. Seeing his tractor sitting there hit Erin and I in exactly the same way, at the same time. Just a sudden gut punch achy feeling. But I am grateful that we got a chance to do that. And yep, the place still feels like HOME. Like Dad. Even with sheep.
We have a weekend family trip ahead. We are all going to the Black Hills this weekend. Mom, the three kids, our spouses, and grandkids and fiances. We are going to go walk the Slate Creek horse ride that Dad loved so much. We plan to enjoy some time together, have some fun, maybe drink a little beer, and tell stories about Dad. He asked us to do this, and he would love it, and I hope that we can do this every summer.
