A week and a half later, Dad passed away in the early morning hours of December 11, 1982. He had fought the "good fight" against lung cancer but even that couldn't seem to stop it. After awhile he just became too tired to go any further and blessedly God said it was "enough". The two little combines that he had requested to be bought remained tucked safely away and on Christmas morning, he would have his wish.
I remember as we adults watched the two boys open up the combines that first Christmas morning without him there with us, there wasn't a dry eye in Mom's living room. They were really too little to realize the importance of the gift that they each had received, but the rest of us knew. And even though 30 years have passed and both of those little boys have now grown up into adults, I still remember. This morning, as I packed up the last of the things from my garage in Valley Center before moving back to Hutchinson, I came across the combine once more.
As I held it in my hands, I had to laugh at the way it looked, now 3 decades later. In its former "pristine" condition, the Massey Ferguson combine looked to be an identical replica to the kind of combines my dad loved to operate as he cut wheat each summer. That's why Dad was adamant that the boys receive Masseys....and my apologies to the people reading this whose blood runs green, like in "John Deere" green. But there was something about a John Deere piece of machinery that didn't set quite right with my dad. Others of his friends could run them, but as for dad, it was Massey Ferguson "red" or nothing. And he stuck to those principles, no matter what.
Today as I looked at the combine, I remembered the two key pieces that were missing from it. After a few years of playing with it, my little Ricky had managed to break off not only the auger but the header as well. In a real combine, if those two pieces are missing, well I guess you'd have to say the harvest is over. I can remember the day that he broke the header off. With the sweetest smile a 4-year old can offer, he said to me, "Momma the wheat was too tough. Just look what happened!" The auger, well we never did learn the mystery to its demise. Ricky didn't offer much explanation for its "disappearance" but I can only imagine what might have occurred.
Ricky grew up and the days of playing with the combine were through. As time went on, he forgot about it and certainly didn't remember the grandpa whose dying wish it was for him to have one. I didn't have the heart to throw it away, it seemed "dishonorable" or something. So wherever we moved (and there have been plenty of places over the past 30 years) the little combine went with us. Mostly it ended up on a shelf in our garages or sheds and in my recent move to Valley Center in the spring, the combine sat atop a high shelf.
When I found it today, it was at the end of a very long day of packing up life in Valley Center and getting ready to take the last load back to Hutchinson. If you have ever had to move, then you know what I mean when I say that the last load is the toughest. I knew that it would be almost impossible for me to put the remaining items into my Honda Civic without having any difficulty. That car was packed to the roof and any more packing, one of Valley Center's "finest" would be stopping me on the way out of town and asking me how on earth I could see out my window.
I made one last pass through the garage to see what I had missed. Lo and behold, there sat the combine, just waiting to go on to the next stop in life. Half-heartedly, I grabbed it off the shelf and wondered how on earth I was going to fit it in the already over-stuffed car. For a moment, I thought about giving it up. Maybe now would be a good time to throw it in the dumpster and give it a final rest.
But as I walked down the driveway, I found myself talking to my Dad just as if he were standing right by me. I said, "Daddy, I hate to do this but I think I have to throw the combine away. I wish there was something else I could do. I'm out of room!" There was a tear in my eye as I said it and I thought there was no choice except to throw it away. I was wrong.
Racing down the street as fast as he could go, was my little neighbor boy, Kaleb. He knew I was leaving and wanted to say good-bye. I remembered that I had one last thing in the house, a crate full of my old 33 1/3 record albums. It was so heavy that I had waited until the last to load it but there was a space reserved in the front seat for it. "Old lefty" was getting pretty tired and achy and I knew there was no way I could carry it myself. So I asked Kaleb if he would mind taking one end of the crate while I took the other. He was glad to help me...what a good kid.
After we got the crate of albums in, Kaleb glanced over at the combine on the sidewalk. He asked me if it was a tractor and I told him, well no, it wasn't a tractor. It was called a combine. I tried to explain that if it were a real one that it would have an auger and a header. I told him about my little boy named Ricky, now 32 years old, who had played with it so much that it was all broken up.
"You're not going to throw it away, are you?" he asked me.
I thought a minute and then I said, "Well yes, I was. But would you like it instead?"
You would have thought that 9-year old boy had won the lottery! With a smile on his face and eyes that were sparkling he said to me, "I'll take it! It's fine for me." And with that, I handed off the combine into the grasp of a small child who thought he was receiving the finest gift he had ever owned. We said our good-byes and I started for my car.
Now, I don't know how you guys look at things, perhaps not at all like me. But as I sat there for a moment for the very last time in my driveway at 640 N. Abilene Street, I thought about my dad. It was weird because even though it's Father's Day, I had tried not to think about him. I was worried it would make me too sad today. But instead, it made me really happy. That gift, costing all of $20 back in 1982 had now made not only one boy, but two boys happy. I couldn't help but think that my father would be glad to know that his Christmas wish from so long ago how now found its way to a new boy. Without a doubt, I know that God put everyone in the right place at the right time today. One minute, either way, and the combine would have gone to the Sedgwick County Landfill. As it was, in God's perfect timing, it went home with a young man who I have grown to love over the course of the last 3 months. Not sure I could have asked for my last day in Valley Center to have ended any finer.
I'm at home in Hutch now with boxes every where. My arms and legs ache from lifting and scooting things around. "Old Lefty" is saying, "That'll be about enough of THAT stuff Peggy!" But on this June 17th, "Father's Day", I give thanks for a man like my Dad who wanted his children and grandchildren to remember just how much he loved the land. He was a good steward of wheat ground. He took great pains to make sure that every kernel of wheat that could be cut was indeed harvested.
My 3 children will never have known him, but the stories of his life will live on forever in the minds of the people he loved and who loved him back. I was blessed to have him as my father. May my two sons grow up to be the man and the father that he was. What a great way to honor his memory.
You know, I thought I'd miss the combine but actually I am glad for it to be in the hands of another little guy. Who knows, maybe some day Kaleb's own sons will have a chance to see it and hear the story of how he got it. It could happen you know.
Good night everyone and a good sleep for all!
The "three Ks"-my neighbors in Valley Center~left to right are Karter, Kaleb, and Keaton. I will sure miss those little guys. Just look at their faces..."ornery" is written all over them. They've got "spunk" and that's what I like about them!
The "real" thing-Dad's MF combines lined up ready to leave for the harvest in Haven, Ks., our home town. You might notice as you look to the far left an International Harvester combine. Don't know how that happened but it did! Dad would say, at LEAST it's not a John Deere! LOL Happy Father's Day in Heaven Dad. I love you!
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