Monday, November 8, 2010

A Little Something for Humor Week

Daddy Always Loved Me Best
     Daddy always loved me best.  He thought I was the best-looking, the brightest, and the most talented of all seven kids.

     Okay, well maybe I wanted him to love me best.  Actually, I think he loved Gwen the best.  She was soft-spoken and calm.  She went about her mischief in quiet, smiley ways.  She was also one of those irritating people who has always known what she wanted to be.  When she was young, she wanted to be a nurse, even though she couldn’t stand the sight of blood; and today, she is a nurse.  I still don't know what I want to be.
  
    Or maybe Gayle; maybe he loved her the best.  She was first with long, beautiful, auburn braids.  The rest of us got the bowl cut.  She was strong, intelligent, and a terrific little homemaker.  I was always a little less than terrific, but even though I didn’t do my chores as thoroughly, they were done with a flourish and a song.  It was the right-brain approach.
    
     Then again, he probably liked Kathy best.  She was a self-sacrificing missionary type who went to the wilds of Africa with her husband, oldest daughter, and red-haired baby twin girls.  She was bold and courageous and fully in charge.  I only went to California.
    
     Leah could have won his heart.  Actually, I know for a fact she did.  She was born early and the tiniest wee bit of nothing you ever saw.  I’ve seen a picture of her dangling from daddy’s big farmer hands—all spindly legs and arms.  She became a nurse, a musician, a singer, and a pastor’s wife.  She’s still tall and disgustingly lean.  I’m not really jealous; afterall, when you have more fat, the wrinkles don’t show as much, and it’s important to lay in an extra layer of fat for those brutal California winters.
    
     Caroline was the baby—special, with a cute little overbite.  He loved her best.  She’s six feet tall and graceful—an artist and a musician.  She married a gentleman farmer of all things.  To top it off, she works extremely hard, which is a work ethic my dad admires.  Personally, I think she’s a bit compulsive.  I’ve never felt the need to work quite that hard; I’m saving myself for retirement.
  
      Actually, I’m almost certain he loved my brother Stewart the best—a thorn among roses.  He’s tall, handsome, musical, and intelligent.  He’s one of those brilliant engineers who can put things in space but can’t match his socks.  He married well though, and she keeps him organized.   He didn’t take over the farm, so that’s a mark against him.  But he’s the only one of us who had his own room, so Daddy must have loved him best.  It may have been a walk-in closet, but it was a special space for someone who had a special place.  I’ve always resented him for that.
 
     Now that I think of it, I don’t think Daddy was in the least bit partial.  He always said he was proud of us and loved us all the same.  I guess I just wanted him to love me more.  Probably a suppressed desire to be a spoiled only-child.
     
     He loved us all the best.  He often said he wouldn’t take a million dollars for any one of us; but, of course, he wouldn’t take a plug nickel for another one either.

     Now he’s enjoying his role as a grandfather of twenty grandchildren.  His grandchildren are the best looking, the most talented, and the brightest; but do you know what?  He loves my kids the best.

2 comments:

  1. I really enjoyed reading your essay about “Daddy Always Loved Me the Best”! I have to say how much I admire parents with a large family such as yours that can make each one of their kids feel special. It is not an easy feat. I only have two children myself and I have found that to be a challenge for one not to feel preferred over the other. It is extremely important for each child to feel a special bond with their parents though.

    I have a son and a daughter who are as different as night and day. My son is the oldest and he always excelled at everything he attempted. He was class valedictorian, an All-State athlete in a couple of sports, volunteered for missionary work, talented musician, student body president, and overall a well-liked and popular guy. He could always carry on a conversation with anyone.

    My daughter on the other hand was always more reserved. She is a year and half younger than her brother and always had to work harder at things. She struggled with her weight and her self-confidence overall. She had to work much harder in school and was more of the quiet, artistic type.

    The kids got along well when they were young but I think my daughter has always resented my son. I still see that even now that they are grown. I often ask myself if I contributed to that. I tried to find things to point out that each was doing well but I’m sure I probably bragged on my son more often than my daughter because of all the things he was involved in and how easy they came to him. As I look back, I think I could have done some things differently to make my daughter maybe feel more special than she did.

    Thanks again for sharing how unique each member of a family can be and how each one has their own talents and strengths to contribute!

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  2. It is not always easy to be totally fair, but awareness is the first step. Thanks for your sensitive comments.

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