No furniture was
needed as his presence filled the room.
Everyone remembers
his birthday.
He was stronger than
John Wayne,
Yet often as tender
as a child who doesn’t want to step on the daisies.
He loved the land,
horses, cars, cows, tractors, and his grandchildren.
There was never a
toy, a bike, a tractor or a car he couldn’t fix.
His mind was a
virtual computer with calculator and endless gigs of memory.
His son, truly his
moment of joy
For he never had time
to be a boy.
Many the story Larry
could tell,
Guns by their sides,
dogs on the trails,
How to make beauty
from wood and some nails.
Seasons came and
seasons went.
He always said the
next one would surely be better, and each one was.
Though I was blind, I
know Daddy believed that if I had wanted to, I could have put a tractor
together as good as he could.
He drove a hundred
miles while running a fever, just to hear me sing in church one Christmas.
When very sick, he
wondered out loud if we would all forget him if he was not around.
Happy birthday,
Daddy!
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