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Wilbur Latimer |
My daddy was a farm boy who didn’t have the opportunity to go to college. In fact, he went back to finish high school after dropping out to help at home. He was a Go-Getter, and I sometimes wonder what he could have achieved if he’d managed to get a college degree.
Daddy was a born salesman, who enjoyed people. Like most men of his generation, he loved cars, and he sold Fords at White County Motor Company for years. In spite of what they say about car salesmen, his honesty and fair dealing brought folks back when it was time to trade vehicles.
We weren’t monetarily rich, but our home was a place of love and fun. He and my mother had a knack for making the smallest occasion a celebration. If Will and I were involved in an activity, he showed up—yes even for those dreaded dance recitals.
Daddy inherited his mother’s green thumb and love of flowers so our house was filled with whatever blooms were in season. I remember bouquets of lilacs, roses, bridal wreath, and forsythia gracing our dining table. His idea of unwinding was to cut back privet hedge or work in his flower beds.
He never lost his love for farming and had a nice garden after he retired. He considered it fun to plow his sister’s soy beans—until the tractor turned over on him. Fortunately, he was quick and managed to jump free except for one leg that got pinned beneath it.
He walked away from that accident and from farming because of a recurring nightmare of the event. But until the day he died, he grew the best tomatoes in Arkansas, which he graciously shared. I wish I had one today.
Come to think of it, I was doubly blessed. Terry’s daddy was also a great father.
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Terry and his dad, Leslie Johnson |
If I were giving out honorary degrees, these guys would receive PhDs in Fatherhood for the way they loved and cared for their families.
REMEMBERING DADDY
Doing what came naturally, you
Achieved more in this life than you knew,
Dear Daddy. Your love
Dawned upon us
Year in year out, confirming a Heavenly Father’s care.
What about you? Are you remembering a special man today?
Behold what manner of love the Father has bestowed on us,
that we should be called children of God!
I John 3:1a
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Published by Dorothy Johnson
I'm a lover of God, mother of three, grandmother of eight, and a collector of friends. I like nothing better than talking, listening, laughing and eating with that crowd. My husband, Terry, and I feel blessed to wake up each day to a magnificent view of the Arkansas River. An amazing variety of creatures, from bobcats and coyotes to deer, bunnies and nutria, along with all sorts of birds roam the natural area behind our house. We also share our home with three silly kitties. I often find a lesson in what I see both indoors and out on any given day and usually find myself writing about it. I hope you'll join me in exploring the ways God speaks to us through His creation.
View all posts by Dorothy Johnson
Wonderful tribute. Scary about the tractor accident!! Been walking around the farm today thinking a lot about my Daddy, grandfathers and all my wonderful uncles.
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I'm sure it was bittersweet. So many memories and missing them.
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No wonder you're so pretty. You have good genes.
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Aww, thanks, Pat. I always thought my dad was good looking.
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So good to visit with you yesterday. Your dad would be so honored by this tribute. I think you must look like him.
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Thank you, Debbie. I enjoyed our visit, too. I've been told most of my life that I looked like him, but it's funny, now I see my mother when I look in the mirror.
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That tractor accident!
Writing the specifics of the lives of those we loved who are no more with us brings them back just a little. Thank you. As I'm sure your father would.
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I agree, Crescent. I always feel close to folks when I talk about them with people who loved them and write about them. He knew he was fortunate to survive that tractor. Appreciate you!
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