I was looking at a photo of you dad recently that captured my heart. A moment captured on film so many years ago.
It was the year of 1971, I was almost seven years old. It was a warm June day. The dust from the dirt driveway coated my tanned bare feet as I stood in my stark white cotton undies in the front yard with my three year old sister, also in her undies.
From my vantage point, our house was right in the middle of miles and miles of potato fields that surrounded us on three sides of our yard with a dirt road running in front.
According to mom, who liked to hose us down with freezing cold water after a long day of outdoor play, “It just isn’t wise to put clothes on you girls since you will just get them filthy.”
I wasn’t aware you were supposed to wear clothes while you played outside until I was about nine when a couple of boys that were older than me moved in across the street. It was pretty exciting when they were building the new house there. Prior to that, seeing people on a regular basis in our farmland neighborhood was a rarity.
“Happy Fathers Day Daddy,” I said as Daddy sauntered up to us.
Daddy smiled down at me, “Thank you Francie.”
“Your cowboy hat looks good on you,” I beamed with pride. My little sister and I got to pick it out for his Father’s Day gift.
Daddy laughed down at me as he leaned up against his pride and joy. His 1964 royal blue Ford Falcon Futura convertible. He spent a lot of hours working on cars and this one was one of his favorites.
“Girls, go stand next to your dad,” mom commanded. It was a big enough occasion to bring out the camera.
Daddy put his hand on my bare shoulder as I leaned my long messy brown tresses into his round belly.
“Hold still Peanut,” Dad ordered, as my little sister squirmed next to me. Daddy grasped the top of her blond curls to gently nudge her to stop moving.
I could feel Whiskey, our dog, brushing against my bare leg with his rear to the camera and his tail swishing back and forth tickling my knee. “Say cheese,” mom said as she balanced the camera with one hand and my baby sister in her other.
It was a good memory.