Memories

Damion

I wanted him to remember me teaching him to drive the tractor and how to ride a horse. I wanted him to remember me for the dad that spent time with him. Not the dad that worked all the time. I didn’t want him to look back on his childhood and think about the great nannies he had or the awesome teachers at the daycare center.

I was going to be selfish. I wanted all the memories.

“Again!” he shouted when I slowly turned the tractor to take us back to the house.

I laughed. “One more time and then I need to figure out what we’re having for dinner.”

I took over steering, leading us out toward the winter wheat field. I talked, probably more than he cared to hear, telling him about the wheat and what would happen when it was time to harvest the wheat. I left out the dirty details about rain and how it could make or break our crops. He didn’t need to worry about any of that. Not yet.

My butt was going numb. “Time to go back,” I told him.

He didn’t object, which told me he was bored wit