One year ago today was a Sunday. We were back in Sioux City for the weekend for my cousin’s wedding. Saturday night we partied and danced very late into the night so this particular Sunday we all chose sleep over church. (Skippers!) I called up dad in the morning to see when it would be best to see him before we left to go back home to Polk City. He had previously mentioned that he wanted to take a drive out to his farmland; he was very excited to show us what he had been working on all summer. Dan and I were not sure when we would be back next and I could sense how important it was to Dad that we see the land. Dad suggested that we make a stop for lunch at “Bob’s Drive In” in LeMars for taverns and whips. I told him that we hadn’t been there before and that was the end of discussion, we had to go!
Olson’s were also free that day so we piled into their SUV with them and met Dad and my stepmom Bev in the parking lot of their apartment to caravan from Dakota Dunes to LeMars. Before we could drive away, Dad motioned to us to wait up a minute and I smiled as I saw him walking towards me with a very recognizable bag that just happened to be full of several pounds of jawbreakers. He knew they were my favorite and frequently made a special trip just for me (and probably for him too for nut clusters of some variety I imagine) to Palmers Candy Shoppe! As I watched him walk back to his truck I really wanted to jump out of Olson’s SUV and hop into the truck with he and Bev but something held me back. How I loved those times riding with Dad in his truck, and they didn’t happen very often anymore. Everything was so busy getting ready for the wedding and catching up with friends and family that weekend that I hadn’t spent much time with Dad & Bev. But for some reason I stayed put.
We pulled into “Bob’s Drive In,” pushed a couple tables together, and Dad started telling us stories of how this place had been part of his life for so many years. I guess that is why he thought it was crazy that we hadn't been there yet. We ordered our taverns & whips, and he was right – they were amazing! I would describe a “whip” as a root beer float blended into an icy shake. Of course Hannah loved Grandpa’s raspberry whip the most and how he loved giving her a big sip and watching her smiling for more. “Mmmm that’s good stuff!” he said over and over. We spent our lunch listening to Dad tell stories about hanging out with his buddies there when he attended Westmar College in LeMars. The place had changed some over the years but the food had not, it was just as great as it ever had been.
We piled back into our vehicles and drove out to the grove. Now we would get to see for ourselves the work that Dad had described to us over the summer. He could have easily hired this job out but it was easy to see on his face the pride and joy he felt in doing the manual labor himself as he prepared the land for their retirement home; bringing in the electrical post, building a new driveway, and clearing trees that were in the way of where the house would sit. I brought my camera along; I thought it would be fun to take pictures of Hannah with Papa at the grove. They would be so fun to look at years from now, after many years and many trips out to Papa and Bev’s farm, it would be amazing to see pictures of her there before the house was even built. But we got out of the car and I made a last second decision not to mess with the camera at the grove, instead I’d just take a picture of her on his tractor back at my Uncle Kevin’s farm instead.
Dad showed us the way through the brush, piles of tree limbs, and other things that he had discovered as he prepared the land. He had found many old beehive containers as Sioux Bee Honey had in the past paid rent to my grandfather to use the grove as a location for some of their hives. He moved a large limb out of our way and a small branch scraped his cheek and it instantly started bleeding. I remember injecting into the conversation to tell him that it was bleeding a lot and he just continued talking about his plans and said something like “Eh it’s nothing” as he wiped it with a blue shop towel. We walked around where the house would be and also around the outer edge of the trees while he pointed out things in his mental blueprints like where their porch would be, how they would have a great view of the sunset, and where he wanted to put in a tire swing for the grandkids.
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| Hannah and Dan on Dad's Tractor 8.29.10 |
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| Hannah and Papa Jim with kitty 8.29.10 |
We finished up at the grove and headed back to the other farm where he could show us his latest toy – his brand new tractor. And this time I grabbed my camera to snap a few pictures. This tractor was not his dad’s tractor or one that he was borrowing from his brother, but for the very first time his very own tractor. As he talked about it telling us that he bought it partly because he “needed it” and partly because he thought Grandpa Art would have been proud; Dad just couldn’t have been happier. Of course he got the best deal (as I am learning is the case with any man any time he buys something). He also bought some attachments, and I was impressed to hear that he purchased a roll bar which was attached to it for his own safety. We spent time looking at it and taking pictures on it and then our attention shifted to my cousin’s young daughter Hailey as she came into the shed carrying something very special – a baby kitty that she had found recently in the barn. I couldn’t have been more in awe watching Papa as he helped Hannah hold her first little kitty.
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| Hannah Swinging 8.29.10 |
It was too beautiful a day not to just enjoy being outside and we shifted our conversations out of the shed and near the large swingset that I used to play on as a kid whenever we came to visit Grandpa and Grandma Netley. The swings themselves needed an upgrade so rubber seats now replaced the wooden seats that I sat on as a child, but the large metal posts framing them remained the same. How many times had I thought I could touch the sky on those swings? About a thousand. It brought joy to me watching my own daughter use them. Dad came over to swing as well and I remember us laughing together, he looked pretty ridiculous trying to swing with only about a foot of ground clearance as the links were set for a typical two year old height.
We all stood around an old white pickup truck near the swingset just talking in the shade. I knew we would be leaving soon, but we were really in no hurry to get anywhere and it was so nice being at the farm, I really hadn’t spent much time there in the past few years since Grandpa Art passed and being there again was like a breath of fresh air. Dad began teasing Hannah with a stick, sticking it in the back of her pants and watching her walk in circles like a dog chasing its own tail trying to get it out. She also found an ear of corn which she quickly became fascinated with (the best toys are not toys after all) and seeing the look of amazement on her face Papa quickly asked her if she wanted more corn. I started to respond “Dad she’s ok” but he didn’t hear me as he was already halfway to the field searching for the best ears.
He came back with the corn and soon after it was time to wrap things up and say goodbye. He picked up Hannah and as he was holding her I gave him a hug goodbye as well. I can remember the feeling of his cheek against mine and giving him a quick squeeze and kiss on the cheek as I said “Bye Dad. I love you."
Those were my last words to him, except I vaguely remember smiling and rolling my eyes or maybe saying something along the lines of “really that’s ok” as he reached in the car and handed Hannah the ear of corn that he had picked for her. He died the following morning alone in the grove clearing the last of the trees for the place that we all thought that he would finally call his home. There were no warning signs, nobody to blame, and we are left with a good idea but also speculation as to what happened. No time for final goodbyes. Just like that, he was gone.
It really can happen that fast and when you least expect it. A friend of mine from school lost his father without notice and offered words and condolences to me in the days following dad’s death which are so true. He wrote to me, “Sudden and unexpected might be nice for him, but it’s horrendous on us.” As I reflect on the past year and what it has been like to be without my father and more difficultly my children’s grandfather I will tell you that while I am thankful that we did not have to watch him suffer, this first year has been pure torture at times. “If I only would have _________,” “I wish he was here to see _________,” “What will it be like to _________without Dad?” I could go on and on.
I am still hanging on to that last day together and what a blessing that was. I am also hanging on to my religious values he so faithfully demonstrated and instilled in me; we have hope because life doesn't end with death. It isn't just something we tell ourselves to feel better about losing a loved one, it is our true hope. Dad was preparing a place for his retirement here on earth, but more importantly he believed his heavenly father had already prepared a place for him in heaven. We know by how he lived his life that Dad was ready when his time came, however suddenly it was.
John 14:1-2
Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me. My father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you?
