Starlight Warm Milk and Dad you say! As a child, I spent most of my life in or around mountains on a tiny farm. Lily (me) was born and raised on the outskirts of a small town nestled in the foothills of upstate New York.
The Farm
Lily, her parents, and siblings lived on a semi self-sufficient “farm” along with an assortment of chickens, rabbits, ducks, sheep. In addition, there were a few smelly hogs. Of course, we had a couple of dogs and several farm cats. Best of all was Lucy the milk cow. She was as much a pet as the family dog. I really loved Lucy.
Because I was so young I have very few memories of the farm. But the ones I have are precise. They were from happy times in life. Especially loved playing in the garden and picking berries. One for me and one for the basket. Which never seemed to get full….I wonder why! However, Lucy was was my best friend.
One of my first recollections was in the fall. I was around three or four. It was a very chilly but clear autumn evening. There was no moon. But, boy oh boy the stars were shining brightly above. I remember the sky looking like heaven.
Starlight Warm Milk and Dad
Father was running late and Lucy was growing impatient for her milking. Bellowing and kicking the barn stall. I was scared and felt uneasy. The mother assured me that Lucy was fine. Meanwhile, as we waited on father to get home. I got to help prepare for milking Lucy. That was a feat in itself.
First, Mother made sure that everything would be ready for father! I was so excited to help with preparation. It meant I got to play in the water. What child doesn’t? Now as the water boiled to sterilize the milk pail, strainer, and jars. That is what my mother got to do while I collected the wash bucket and rags.
“Ok, Lily, it is time to get your jacket and boots on.” Mother said. Daddy should be here soon. What seemed to be hours as I sat on the porch waiting for him to arrive. Suddenly I heard the distant baritone of her father’s voice calling my name. “Lily, Lily I’m home!” said father. My face lit up like the stars in the sky as I ran into his arms.
In fact, I got to carry the wash bucket and rags to the barn. Since father had the milk pale in one hand and my hand in the other. He hummed away as we walked the path to the barn. I felt so small compared to the tall blades of grass. All she could see was the chicken coop to left all dark and quiet. “Remember my child.” “Chickens got to bed early,” father said.
As we grew closed the knocking got louder. Lucy was letting us know her disapproval of the hour. Meanwhile, the pigs grunted to say hello as we passed by. The barn ominous in the distance.
The Moment
Feeling small and afraid except the gentle squeeze of my father’s hand on mine reassuring me that all was fine under the starlit sky. As we approached the barn I looked back but could hardly see the house. Just the dim lite of the Poarch lite was my little glace could see.
“Hush now,” my father said as we quietly entered the barn as not to startle Lucy. Next, my father lifted me and perched me on the feed box so I could watch him milk Lucy. Moving Lucy to the milking stall. Then be proceeded to clean the utter’s with soapy water. All the while asking Lucy about her day. Halfway through I got to come in and help. The best part was when he reached for the small cup and would fill it with warm foamy creamy milk. As he put me back upon the perch he said: “This was the best part of his day.”
My father has since passed away. I regret never telling him that it was my fondest memory of him, the stars in the sky, and warm milk. To this day I still enjoy the stars in the sky and a cup of warm milk. And long for his hand in mine. You will always be loved and miss you, Daddy.
Thus I ask that you cherish every day with your Children, Grandchildren, and Great Grandchildren. What better way than to reading together.