“I have tried to live my life so that my family would love me and my friends respect me. The others can do whatever the hell they please.” -John Wayne
This is the tree from my dad's memorial in September. There is a lot of special meaning to each of those hats that hang on it. Some are more significant in memory to me than others, but they all represent who my dad was in the end. I can only tell what these hats meant to me, they might have different meaning or feeling attached to them for everyone else. Let's start at the top...
The white baseball cap was a hat that meant dad had become a "born-again" Christian. I know that a lot of people throw that term around, but in my dad's case it was true. Growing up he wasn't the nicest person to deal with. He was a very angry man after my parent's divorce and drank and smoked and chewed tobacco a lot. All of his jeans that he owned always had a Copenhagen ring in the back pocket. When my dad told me that he was going back to church; the same church he had turned his back to so many years before; I was in shock and honestly didn't think he would stick with it. Oh ye of little faith in my case. He was baptized, along with my brother and step-mom. I was so proud of him and the changes that had happened in him. He no longer drank, smoked, or chewed. In fact, he had even cooled his notorious temper and road rage. Dad had become the man I had always longed he would become as a little girl growing up.
The cheese-head is pretty self-explanatory. My dad was a rabid Green Bay Packers fan, and I have been a fan since I was little as well, just don't watch the games. On game days he would put on his cheese head and his Packer jersey and fill his Packer cup up with either coffee or water and root for his favorite team. The cheese head is now mine and I will always think of dad when I see it or watch a game.
The last two hats hold the most significance for me memory-wise. The bright orange tin hat brought on the most emotion for me when I finally saw it in person. Memories of dad coming home from logging in the woods to my grandma's house. He smelled like pine, chainsaw oil, and coffee. When he would come in the door my older brother and I would basically maul him and drag him over to the chair to help take his boots off while our grandma got him some dinner. If you have ever seen a logging boot, than you know it is not an easy task to take one off. They are extremely tall, almost to the knee, and HEAVY. Each boot can weigh upwards of 8 pounds! It would take me and my brother at least 10 minutes to "help" dad get his boots off, but while we undid the laces he would tell us about his time up in the woods. That old hat also reminds me of all the times dad was gone helping with fighting fires all over the Western United States and Alaska. Those were anxious times for my brother and myself. Fires are dangerous and we were always worried about dad's safety and prayed he would come home to us.
The final hat is dad's cowboy hat. He loved horses and the ranch life, but was never able to actually own his own ranch. He may not have been able to live the cowboy life that he always dreamed of, but he never stopped being a cowboy in his own heart and soul. This might explain both our obsessions with John Wayne and all things western.
In the end, dad was a great person and an excellent dad to all of us kids. He tried to live his life the best that he could in the best manner and way possible, so as to be an example to the rest of the world. I believe he accomplished just that, and I will miss him terribly.
I will always be my daddy's little Peanut.
Rest in Peace, until we meet again.
