My father was a 4th-generation Texas rancher who passed away 4 years ago at the age of 86. He died because of complications after being attacked by a bull that he told us had been abused by my brother. He was penning the bull for sale when the attack happened. My dad was always good to his animals and they were well-cared for, never mean like that particular one. (Some cattle would never sell because he considered them pets.)
My father was a tall, big, sturdy guy, the type you'd imagine working 18-hour days and riding his horse herding the cattle (he often did both). When my husband-to-be first met him and shook his hand, he told me later he thought, "I'd better be nice to this woman 'cause her dad could break me in two!"
And my 6'2" husband is no slouch himself.
The accident happened after my dad had the bull penned, but the bull suddenly charged the gate as my father was closing it. The bull knocked the gate with such force that it tore off the fence and landed on top of my dad. The bull tried to stomp him but the gate helped distribute the 2000 lbs of animal and iron on top of my Dad's chest. The people buying the bull arrived and helped get it into another pen. My father dusted himself off and drove home. He had 4 completely broken (not cracked) ribs and a collapsed lung, and went home to sleep it off. He ended up in an ambulance later when he realized things were worse than he thought. At 86 years old, the injury started a downward spiral for him and he passed away 9 months later.
I'm still dealing with the workload fallout of my father's death, it has been a long difficult road, but I'm finally tying up the loose ends and have sold the homestead. Things would have been easy except for my brother who is blinded by greed, trying to leave our mother penniless and on Medicaid while he spends her money she needs for her care. Yes, that is illegal, but my brother's motto is "it's not illegal if you don't get caught." He is a snake-oil salesman, I think you get the picture. I've been fighting for our mother, who is easy swayed into bad decisions by her son, so sometimes I'm fighting for her but without her.
The funny thing is, when I was growing up my Dad used to be home at 8:00 every Friday night to watch "Dallas." I've always been really amused that he did that - I thought the last thing my tough no-nonsense father would ever watch is a soap opera! Football games and the weather forecast, sure, but that kind of drama?
He really liked the show, and I guess he wasn't the only one, it was really popular.
These days I can't get the theme out of my head, especially when I'm doing work for him and my mother. I've listened to the "Dallas" theme and that seems to just make it play in my head more, rather than less.
And please don't get the wrong idea - my family has never been the Ewings. Tone it way down, add a splash of hillbilly in there, and then you've got it about right.
Come to think of it though, with my brother in the picture, my mother too, we've definitely got our share of drama!
Anyway, I've been thinking of my Dad a lot and thought I'd share the theme song so it can go through your head, too!
Thanks for reading.
My father was a tall, big, sturdy guy, the type you'd imagine working 18-hour days and riding his horse herding the cattle (he often did both). When my husband-to-be first met him and shook his hand, he told me later he thought, "I'd better be nice to this woman 'cause her dad could break me in two!"
The accident happened after my dad had the bull penned, but the bull suddenly charged the gate as my father was closing it. The bull knocked the gate with such force that it tore off the fence and landed on top of my dad. The bull tried to stomp him but the gate helped distribute the 2000 lbs of animal and iron on top of my Dad's chest. The people buying the bull arrived and helped get it into another pen. My father dusted himself off and drove home. He had 4 completely broken (not cracked) ribs and a collapsed lung, and went home to sleep it off. He ended up in an ambulance later when he realized things were worse than he thought. At 86 years old, the injury started a downward spiral for him and he passed away 9 months later.
I'm still dealing with the workload fallout of my father's death, it has been a long difficult road, but I'm finally tying up the loose ends and have sold the homestead. Things would have been easy except for my brother who is blinded by greed, trying to leave our mother penniless and on Medicaid while he spends her money she needs for her care. Yes, that is illegal, but my brother's motto is "it's not illegal if you don't get caught." He is a snake-oil salesman, I think you get the picture. I've been fighting for our mother, who is easy swayed into bad decisions by her son, so sometimes I'm fighting for her but without her.
The funny thing is, when I was growing up my Dad used to be home at 8:00 every Friday night to watch "Dallas." I've always been really amused that he did that - I thought the last thing my tough no-nonsense father would ever watch is a soap opera! Football games and the weather forecast, sure, but that kind of drama?
These days I can't get the theme out of my head, especially when I'm doing work for him and my mother. I've listened to the "Dallas" theme and that seems to just make it play in my head more, rather than less.
And please don't get the wrong idea - my family has never been the Ewings. Tone it way down, add a splash of hillbilly in there, and then you've got it about right.
Anyway, I've been thinking of my Dad a lot and thought I'd share the theme song so it can go through your head, too!
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