Happy Father’s Day

This was originally posted on Sunday, June 17, 2016.

Gerald Delane Hall 

Husband

  

Father

  
Grandfather    

Brother
  

Son 

Great grandfather
  
Friend 
A special man, my dad, not perfect, heck, he didn’t even try to be. But he was fun:

–Teller of inappropriate jokes, and a gambling fool.

–Measurer of miles in terms of six packs consumed.

–Lacking political correctness, yet treated everyone as an equal.

–Maker of friends wherever he went.

–Soft of heart.

–My biggest fan.

I miss this man. 

A Special Gift

  For a combination Mother’s/Father’s Day gift our daughter had this made for Studly and me. It’s a beautiful reminder of all we’ve been through and of just how far we’ve come.

The border lists all the places we’ve lived in our marriage. In the lower right hand corner the names of our children and grandchildren are written. All around our names are our interests and Studly’s famous sayings, “Don’t say whoa in a mud hole,” “Second Sucks,” and “Can’t never could.” 

The “Really, Really” is how Studly signs his cards to me. He’s been doing so since before we married. The one time he forgot I thought he wanted to leave me. 

Notice the cow in the upper right hand corner. That represents Salem Sue, the huge Holstein that adorns a hill outside New Salem, North Dakota, where we lived for 18 months. The town, not the hill; although, I always told people we lived behind the left udder.

The remainder of the picture contains little bits of our lives, our hobbies and activities. Studly golfs. I drink wine. We both follow the Dallas Cowboys and ride motorcycles. Oh, and we both look like idiots trying to climb out of our kayak.

When I get old, this will be my touchstone, my connection to our past. What a wonderful gift!

Daddy and the Perfect Bag

Every day I spend a little time thinking about my Daddy. I don’t plan to; it just happens. He was quite a guy, and he impacted our lives in many ways.

Studly Doright and I were privileged to have Daddy live with us the last few years of his life, and it was a great experience for all of us; although, I’m sure Daddy often thought we were nuts. That’s ok, he was a little nuts, too.

Daddy loved golf and was in part responsible for Studly playing. But, by the time he moved to Melbourne, FL, where we lived at the time, Daddy’s COPD prevented him from hitting the course as much as he’d have liked. 

He still played a few times, though, even earning a “Closest to the Pin” trophy in a charity tournament.  Man, was he proud of that trophy! Any visitor to our home was invited to gaze on it in awe.

Long after Daddy stopped playing he would sit out in our garage imagining courses he’d played in years gone by and putting together the perfect set of clubs for a round of golf there. Often Studly would go looking for one of his clubs only to find it taking up space in Daddy’s “dream bag.”

“Gerald,” Studly would ask, “Have you seen my 5 wood?”

“Yeah, it might be in my bag,” Daddy would say. “I was thinking of number 4 at the Floydada Country Club. I thought I could reach the green with that 5 wood.”

Even now that Daddy has been gone for many years we still go looking in his bag anytime a club is missing, just in case he needed it for that perfect round.

Miss you Daddy. I hope you’ve got just the right clubs for whatever course you’re playing now.

Daddy holding his oldest great-grandson.