Churning up the Dirt with Dad

There's something therapeutic about digging into an overdue home project.  That's exactly what Shay and I did this weekend.  As part of the project, I had to till up a circular area in our yard.  All the sensory elements of running a tiller - feels, sounds, smells and heat - took me back to my childhood with my dad.

Dad always kept five or so old milk jugs full of ice in the deep freeze.  He'd take them out early in the morning and place them in the back of his Dodge Ram.  We'd hop in the cab and head up the hill to the back of our expansive property where his massive garden was nestled in a perfect area for growing a wide range of crops - corn, cucumbers, tomatoes, squash, okra, banana peppers, watermelons and more.  

I remember just how hard he would work the land and how happy it made him.  From the springtime tilling to the late spring hoeing to the summer harvesting, that smell of freshly churned dirt mixed with vegetable plants and sweat is forever etched in my memory bank.  I can still feel the cold rush of slushy water from the milk jugs after they melted a bit on the tailgate.  "Slow down, son.  You're going to make yourself sick if you drink it too fast."  That oasis of water is the coldest I've ever tasted, Yeti included.

Dad's work ethic wasn't just on display in his garden.  Back in the 1970's, he wanted to get a job at Procter and Gamble but failed the physical due to what were deemed "bad veins" in his legs.  Undaunted, he opted for a surgical procedure to correct the issue.  He showed back up to P&G, passed the interview (again) and aced the physical.  He wound up working there in a variety of roles for 15 years and ultimately retired from the company.

Sometimes the harsh elements weren't enough of a challenge for Dad.  I can still see him in the middle of sweltering July heat cutting the grass all the while wearing a large belt/wrap affixed with Velcro around his waist.  It was designed to make him ever hotter sweating out more fluids, and in his mind, keep him slim and trim.  

Once Dad hit his mid-to-late 70's, his body really started to succumb to cancer.  Once he knew he had only a couple of years left, he feverishly knocked out a myriad of home improvement projects so my Mom would be set up for success once he passed.  He was tough as nails and harder working than anyone I've ever known.

A couple of years ago, I was chatting with a childhood friend of  Dad's.  He told me my grandfather, Asa Taylor, used to tout my dad back when he (dad) was a child stating young Harry Lynn, "could outwork any man in Henderson County."  In reality, Dad had to grow up too fast, but it set in stone habits and principles that he adhered to for his entire life.

My mom and sister certainly have their share of stories they could add to this post.  He's been gone 10 years, but his life lessons live on.  Now I have a couple of young boys tugging on my cape.  I pray I'm etching memories they can cherish one day once I'm down in the dirt.