A Letter to my Daddy

In thinking about lambs, I remembered an email that I wrote to my dad in October 2005. So this post is in honor of my Daddy, the kind of man and father I hope my boys will grow up to be some day.
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Dear Daddy,
It's late October, and the weather is chilly and rainy right now. Do you know what I am thinking about? The State Fair. It seemed like every other year it was cold and rainy at the State Fair. On the off years, it was hot and muggy. The weather never cooperated that I recall.

It's been 15 years since I last showed any 4-H lambs ...but I can still smell that livestock barn. I can still hear all those lambs and pigs and people milling about in the dim light. I can picture those washing pens and practically feel how cold my hands would get while washing those lambs. Oh, and I can smell Wool-lite ...I still laugh when I think about us washing our lambs in Wool-lite! I guess in a round about way it makes perfect sense, but it also seems so silly to think about using an expensive laundry soap on a bunch of stinky sheep! To this day I cannot wash clothes in Wool-lite because the smell reminds me of sheep!

I remember having to wake up well before it was light outside to go take care of those sheep. The city was still sleeping, but the show barn was already buzzing with activity even at that early hour. I also remember how you would always treat us to donuts (Shipley donuts, if I remember correctly) at least one morning while we were at the State Fair. Donuts and hot chocolate before dawn ...was there ever a better breakfast?

I thought about that crazy out-of-control lamb that the Crawford girl had to show for me ...you remember the very lamb that bucked and kicked and knocked me down in the ring. I was only 9 and it was my first year to show. She was much older and more experienced than me, and for some reason took pity upon my situation. I remember her switching lambs with me, probably so that I wouldn't get dragged from the ring by the insane lamb. Oddly enough, the lamb placed 3rd in it's division, so we had to go have a picture taken. The crazy thing literally tore up the picture area, kicking up sawdust everywhere and knocking over plants. It probably came as close as a lamb can get to destroying a professional photographer's camera without actually doing it. We laugh about how scared I look in the photo, but is there any wonder as to why?!

Do you remember the lamb that tried to eat an entire bag of feed and had to have his stomach pumped by the State Fair vet? Or the lamb that got away and we had to chase it all over the livestock barn. I'll bet there were 30 grown men involved in the chase before we managed to get that lamb cornered! I thought about how those lambs seemed like such a burden to care for throughout the summer and fall, but when it came time to sell them or butcher them and say goodbye I always cried.

I also recall how you would always walk each of us to the show ring when it was time for our class of lambs to be judged. My stomach was nearly always in a ball of anxious knots. But you walked with us every step of the way, from the pens to the show ring gate. Most of the time, you would even lead the lamb on the halter ...never actually passing the lamb over to us until it was time for us to enter the ring. During the show, you were always ring-side, offering soft words of advice if we needed it or cheering us on with big grins. I remember how you were always standing just outside the ring gate when we came back out of the ring, with encouraging words and smiles ... not matter how badly we might have placed. There was comfort in that because we could trust that every time you were going to be right there.

I just wanted you to know that not only do I remember all of these things, but I treasure them in my heart. I appreciate so much more now what you were trying to share with us then. Thank you for giving me a lifetime of love and memories.

I love you.
Paige