Dad
Dad Ruskjer
Donovan Latimer Ruskjer -- my dad
Was a rather unusual display
Standing six-foot-six in his stocking feet,
Wearing coveralls most ev'ry day.
Although serious by nature -- quite focused was he.
He could smile. He had twinkling eyes.
You would have to be near him for quite a long while
Before you would then realize
Just how deeply he thought about most everything,
Yet with wonder -- an innocent child --
Grand Canyon, of course; and the heavens above,
But a
crocus
could keep him beguiled!
Things like justice and fairness were high on his list
(Helping little ol' ladies was too!)
Making sure that his mother was cared for and loved
Were some things that he often would do.
Having patience was not in his makeup -- it's true
Not at work or at home or at school.
Answers came to him rather routinely, it seems,
Which he thought should be everyone's rule.
If he had just one vice, it was ice cream -- for sure
He could eat it nonstop by the hour --
Which he did in Bemidji one late afternoon,
Each five-gallon cold carton to scour!
In Battle Creek, weekends meant
Wildlife of course
Stan Midgley and such, rain or snow.
No matter the temp'rature, once traffic cleared,
Off to Sullivan's we all would go.
Grand Ledge ev'ry night was camp meeting -- two weeks
Took an hour or so, it would seem.
In Charlotte we'd stop every trip without fail,
'Cause that's where they served soft ice cream!
If he knew of a place that intrigued him, we'd go.
He couldn't wait to take everyone there --
Be it Jackson's Cascades or to Kalamazoo
For an iced-track toboggan sled scare!
The King and His Court (Eddie Feigner and team)
Beat softball teams made up of nine,
With three other players he pitched underhand.
He became quite a fav'rite of mine!
A trumpeter -- Raphael Mendez by name,
Amazed me the way he could play.
He could breathe through his nose
While he played through his mouth
For four minutes nonstop, so they say!
Busch Gardens, the fireworks there in D.C.,
Epcot Center, to name just a few,
Helping Art meet his deadline on CVC signs,
Were just some of the things we would do.
Clearing limbs from the roads Friday evening -- the storm
After winds from tornadoes had past,
Getting shovels, us boys cleared the San's heavy snow,
These are memories that can't help but last.
Did he ever play catch in the backyard? (That's no.)
Or teach us to shoot or to drive?
No, he didn't. But I don't miss those things, inasmuch
As he taught us just simply to strive --
Strive to be a bit better than yesterday's you --
Strive to learn everything that it takes
To accomplish your goals; and to finish your tasks
For others and for goodness' sakes.
Building houses or fixing a bird's wing himself
He taught by example, not rote.
"You can do anything you aspire to do."
He's not asking, but he's got my vote!