Today, on Father’s Day, I’m remembering Daddy and all the things he gave me, all the roles he played, over the twenty-two years that he was in my life. It’s fitting for me that this day is in June, when I have my most vibrant memories of him working on our farm–which was his Rosser family home place. I love this picture of Daddy that was in our hometown newspaper, The Sanford Herald in the summer of 1974.

When I ride through the countryside near my house, I can imagine him driving the tractor that I see in a distant field. Some of my best talks with him were while we were working side-by-side, setting out potato plants. By the time he came to the house in the evenings, after working on our farm or at the factory, he was too tired for conversation.

When I was a girl, I knew my father worked hard to provide for our needs and also to keep the farm in our family. He was the youngest son and after WWII, he was the one who returned home to take care of things. His father had died when he was eleven, so he’d learned from an early age what it took to keep a farm going–especially during the years of the Depression. What I couldn’t appreciate as a girl, was how much my father, like many males, felt a deep need to be a Provider. I was focused on the things my mother modeled– a nurturing home, taking care of children and parents, and relationships with folks in our community.

As an adult, I’ve come to appreciate how much men show their love for their family by being a provider. During my years of marriage, I had many times of being frustrated, even angry, that my husband worked more than I wanted. While some of that was justified because things could get out of balance, some of the time I didn’t appreciate my husband’s way of showing his care for his family. Now, I think of Daddy, all the long hours he worked and the farm he was able to keep. If he were still with us, I’d tell him how deeply I appreciate how well he provided for Mama and we three daughters.

Another thing I remember about Daddy was how he was Protective of his family. I always felt him watching out for me–whether it was warning me not to get too close to the edge of the pond or evaluating the guys I liked. One fellow, I really liked, stopped by our house one day when I wasn’t home. Daddy was there and the guy talked with him, obviously wanting Daddy to tell me he’d come by to see me. I think Mama finally told me; Daddy didn’t trust him.

But later, he did approve of the guy I was spending time with–who would eventually be my husband.

“Connie, if you want to invite him for supper— I bought an extra steak,” Daddy said. He’d never made such an offer!

One of the greatest disappointments of my life was that Daddy died in December before I married in August. How I’d wanted him, my sweet father, my protector, the man whom I most trusted– to walk me down the aisle. He would have been so happy to perform that honor– always proud of his three girls.

And finally, I remember that Daddy enjoyed times of Play. We didn’t get to see that side of him as much as we would have liked; he was weighed down by responsibility. I remember how much he enjoyed family games of softball in the yard on Sunday afternoons and special weekend trips to White Lake. He liked to tease and enjoyed relaxing gatherings with family and friends.

Now, I see the value of fathers playing with their children as I watch my son Brooks with his two boys. They’re allowed to play rough and tumble with their Dad in ways that often frighten their mother. It’s good that my grandsons see the same father who is their Provider and Protector is also able to Play.

On this Father’s Day, I’m thankful for Daddy–the twenty-two years we had. I was fortunate that my father-in-law came into my life and was there for me for the next twenty-two years. Through both men I was given so much.

Best to you on this Father’s Day, as you remember your Daddy and the men in your life who have shown you a father’s love and care.

Connie