DAD

Dad and I in 1956   Photo by Anita Bell 

Dad
Ronald Edwin Bell 1910-1997
Growing up on the farm, I never gave Dad much thought. 
He was just there. 
"Feelings" never entered the day. You had work to do and you did it.
What I knew is that Dad was my "buddy!"
I spent more time with Dad outside, than with Mom inside.
After "the boys" (my 3 older brothers) left the farm, Dad and I were in charge of 140 acres and about 45 Holsteins.
One day, Mom and Dad got into a huge fight over me: "But Ronald," Mom shouted, "You don't understand. It's time for her to come into the house and learn to be a lady!"
"But Anita," Dad quietly answered, "I need her outside."
I was about 13 years of age, and very, very proud that both of them "needed" me.
Dad and I crippled along for 3 full years, calling it a wrap when I was 16. 
I ran the dairy and Dad did all the field work.
Sick of milking cows and not being able to do anything fun with the "city kids," I was beyond joyful when we sold the farm and moved "to town."
But I still didn't give Dad much thought.
Until later years. After he'd died.
Dad was always cheerful. Always singing. Always kidding around. Always laughing. Always whistling.
That was just Dad. I took his cheerfulness for granted!
As an adult, I began pondering on stuff like: How'd he get off that tractor, clean up, put on his suit, suck on a lemon and drive into town to "sing a solo" at a wedding, funeral, choir?
Dad rarely missed Thursday choir practice and Sunday choir.
Dad taught me how to drive a tractor, pull a loaded hay wagon down a steep hill without jackknifing, hay mow terraces without tipping over, and use the hydraulic lift on the Ford tractor (he bought for me) to help pound in fence posts. 
I learned how to wash utters, pre-milk, milk with automatic milkers and strip, look for and doctor mastitis, then hose out the barn and backwash all the equipment.
The only times Dad would get stern with me, is if I bulked trying to play opera songs so he could rehearse. Yes, he even sang opera. Mom made him a clown costume and he sang Pagliacci.
How'd he do all that he did?
I'll never know.
What I do know, is that he was my buddy.