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Father daughter relationship:
My earliest memory of my father, whom I called Daddy, was holding me tightly in his arms in front of him on a tractor seat, on a cold autumn day. Mother had me wrapped up, head and ears as she calls it, and I sat secure and as snug as a bug in a rug, enjoying the ride and the feel of daddy's arms around his little girl.
That day seemed to set the pattern for my life concerning my relationship with Daddy, security, and I always found a safe have in Daddy's arms. To say our relationship was perfect would be an untruth, as there is little that is perfect in this world. My Daddy's only vice was his quick temper and sometimes I could be the recipient of that, yet, one of Daddy's best qualities was his ability to say he was sorry and how much he loved you. Over and over before I received a spanking,(in my growing up days, parents spanked their children for correction, and I think mother and daddy raised four fine children) daddy would say, "now this hurts me worse than it hurts you", yeah I would think,"just how can that be,I'm on the receiving end of this spanking. No matter how mad I got at Daddy, it wasn't very long until once again I would be in the security of his loving arms, hearing the words, " I love you sissy, and if I've hurt you in any way, I'm so sorry.
My daddy was a very hard working man, and the entire family worked together on many projects, we farmed together, my two brothers helped Daddy as he did carpenter work. However, Daddy played as hard as he worked, from inside the house, Mother could always tell when Daddy had joined in on a croquet game we children would be playing, because the hollering and laughing would begin with, "NO DADDY, don't knock my croquet ball across the road," he didn't have any mercy on us when we played, he like to win, that was okay by us, just having Daddy in the game made it lots more fun.
In my teenage years my relationship with Daddy deepened, not only was he my Daddy, but my Daddy was my minister, as a teenager I gave my heart to Jesus Christ, it was then my love for my Daddy grew, and I saw him in a whole new light. I saw the burdens he carried for others.I would be awakened in the night to hear his verbal prayers as he prayed for his parishioners, or the concerns of the church or the associations his church was affiliated with. I saw how he wept for his church family as they wept over their hurts and loses. Daddy and I traveled hundreds of miles together as he preached the gospel of his
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