TO BE WHERE DAD WAS AT
Looking back throughout my life, reflecting on its stages,
Many different memories are listed on its pages.
Some of school, some of friends, perhaps of this or that,
But memories I hold most dear are ones where Dad was at.
You know, Dad, how much I always loved the farm,
And to this day I wish I still could play about the barn.
Each morning I would listen for the closing of the door,
Then I would go to join you, as you began the chores.
I remember as the cows would saunter into the barn,
You would start the milking, protecting me from harm.
I would pet the cows as they ate their morning meal,
And Sis and I would play about with lots of zest and zeal.
Then perhaps it was time for a ride in the big red truck,
We would head to Paul Grain elevator and spend perhaps a buck.
We’d get a Coke and maybe a Payday candy bar,
And sit and chat with others as they came from near and far.
Maybe we needed a tool or part for some thing or another,
So off to Sweetser Hardware, we’d visit Henry and his brother.
Strainer pads, a wrench or two or maybe just to chat,
It really didn’t matter, if I could be where Dad was at.
I loved the cleansing of the rain, the smell of new mown hay,
And often watched the sun set, ending a perfect day.
Yes, I would love to once again roam about the farm,
And romp and play with my dog, Sis, in that big red wooden barn.
Now you’ve gone to heaven to be with God our Savior;
In my mind I see you there, with family, friends, and neighbors.
Oh what a thrill it must be for you to walk those streets of gold!
Needing not a chair or cane but walking straight and bold!
I still miss the farm, Dad, and suppose I always will;
For there’s a place within my heart that nothing else can fill.
I’ll join you one day, Dad, then we will sit and chat,
For once again I’ll get to be, where my Dad is at.
By Jennie Lee Smith 12/24/03