The Way I See It

Daddy’s little girl



I admit it. I was my Daddy’s little girl. Being the youngest and only girl, I pretty much had it easy. Well, in the sense of not having to do “boy” chores. My dad or two older brothers mowed the lawn, took care of the animals, burned the trash etc. Of course I was picked on unmercifully as the baby sister, but my dad made it clear that I was loved.

He didn’t necessarily dote on me. He didn’t spoil me rotten. In fact, growing up as a Baby Boomer, my generation didn’t see a whole lot of their fathers. They got up early, went to work, came home, ate dinner (around the table with EVERYONE), watched TV a bit (and we all watched what Dad wanted to watch because we only had one TV) and went to bed. Doing this day in and day out proved he loved us by being a good provider.

As I got older, I saw him more. I would go to our grocery store after school every day. Grabbing a snack and soda, I’d settle in the back office area and finish my homework. Then, I’d grab a feather duster and work my way up and down the aisles, help bag groceries or chat with everyone who either worked or shopped there. He obviously helped me with the gift of gab. He also taught me how to shoot a rifle, refinish and appreciate antique furniture and how to drive a standard (he also had more patience with me behind the wheel than my mother.)

People never asked who I was. I looked exactly like my Dad. I still find comfort in that. I ran across another Army photo of my dad. I know my grandparents found it unbearable to see such a fresh, young face leave the safety of home and travel halfway around the world to fight for our country. I also know they were proud of him as well.

The way I see it, the sacrifices fathers make, the support and respect they give, the love they show (sometimes in their own fatherly way) is something we children should acknowledge…be it a phone call, letter, visit or in my case a memory on this Father’s Day.

That’s the way I see it, let me know your view – email me at, or write at P.O. Drawer 880, Pleasanton, Tx 78064.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *