~and I never did dance with my father~

Our school is getting ready to have a father-daughter dance on the last day of February.  Young ladies will have the chance to have a nice meal and dance with some very special men in their lives.  I'm happy to know that several girls in my third grade classroom are going.  I have smiled to see the looks on their faces when they describe what they will wear and what it will feel like to dance with their father. 

I never did dance with mine.
Not even once.

My dad has been gone from this earth for such a long time now.  I am already two years older than he was when passed.  I'm now the old person that I once thought he was, and the truth is my dad and I weren't/aren't so old after all.  You kind of change your perspective on things like that as time goes on.

I was very fortunate to have grown up on a farm just outside the town of Haven, Kansas.  My dad was gone 4-5 months of the year sometimes when he was on the harvest circuit.  We watched him leave out in early May and never saw him come back again until the wheat was cut in North Dakota in mid-September.  Growing up was just that way.  We got used to it and knew that he was doing what he wanted to do.  

I was glad that the year I graduated from high school, my father postponed leaving with all of his equipment until the day after my graduation in May of 1973.  He usually would have never considered doing that.  Crops that are ripe in the field have a need to be harvested but somehow or another, he figured out a way to be there the night I got my high school diploma.  I think it was the best present that I ever got from anyone.

It was the gift of his presence.

I never did dance with my father, but once he walked me down the aisle.  The late fall of 1976 seems like such a long time ago.  Daddy had never worn a tuxedo in all of his life and when I asked if he would consider doing that for me, I was afraid he would say no.  Instead, he agreed to and I couldn't believe it.  When I saw him standing there getting ready to walk me down the aisle, I felt such love for him in my heart.  He never wore another tuxedo again and nearly 6 years later, he died from lung cancer at age 59.

I never did dance with my father, but on the very last harvest run that he ever did I got the chance to go along and spend the entire summer with him.  Getting to be with my dad helped me to see just how hard he had been working all of those years before.  I watched him exhibit the kinds of character traits that I wanted for myself and for the children that I would some day become a mother to.  He was hard working, kind, considerate, a man of integrity and so much more.  

Even though I never danced with him, I felt a real sense of closeness to my father throughout my life. I have wonderful memories of him that will last until my own last day.  Once when I was 20 years old, I cut off my long hair.  Probably 12 inches came off at the beauty salon and I worried what he might say about it.  He loved my hair long like that and I was sure that he might not approve.  When I got home, I quickly went into the house and decided to make a beeline for my bedroom upstairs.  I never even made it past the first step before I heard his voice say....

"Peggy Ann, come here a minute.  What did you do to your hair?"
He was not near as disappointed as I thought he would be

On Tuesday night while all of the girls at school are making enough memories with someone to last them a lifetime, I will be standing there watching them and remembering my own father. Even though we never danced together, I feel like he would have said yes if only I had asked him.  

I was only 28 when he died and now, 33 years later one thing is for certain.
I love and miss him still.

                          I hope that he would be proud of the young girl he once knew.