Sunday, March 21, 2010

My Memories of My Daddy

My daddy died when I was five years old. I only have a few memories of him. I remember waking up in a baby bed and I was afraid and crying. The black lady who kept me picked me up. I wiggled and cried more. She put me down by the back screen door. I stood and screamed and hollered. I've always been a loud one when I needed to be. I wanted my mama or daddy. As I cried, I saw my daddy walking across the back yard. He worked at my granddaddy's sawmill very close to our house and had heard me crying. I was so happy when he came and rescued me. To me, that is a happy memory and I cling to it. It is one of two happy memories I have of him. One of the two times I remember him holding me. Maybe that is why I cherish hugs.

7 comments:

Tabor said...

I am sending you a whole bunch of hugs to that sweet little girl that still lives deep inside of you.

Beverly said...

Tabor, that is such a sweet thing to say....I'll take them...

Kay Dennison said...

I'll add a bundle to Tabor's -- I miss my Daddy, too.

thesouthernlady64 said...

Hugs from me, too, Beverly. Like the rest, I also miss my father. Fathers are wonderful people. I am sorry you lost yours so young.

Darlene said...

I was five years old the last time I saw my Daddy and I didn't recognize him. He had left my mother and me two years before. I only have one memory of him and that was one of looking down on him when he threw me up in the air. I must have been frightened to have that memory imprinted in my mind.

I never saw him again until I was eighteen. I was not lucky in having a good father.

Laurinda said...

Wow! That was very powerful and moving...

One Woman's Journey said...

More hugs sent your way. I am behind reading my special blogs.
Most of my memories - of that time and place - are not happy.
Guess that is why I cherish "hugs" also.