He Made Us
He made us sunny side up eggs in bacon grease. And then when we realized he actually was a short order cook, he made us eggs over hard in bacon grease.
He made us two swings so we’d have something new to fight over. . .but this time outside so Mom couldn’t hear us.
He made us experts in kitchen cabinet bear hunts, eating the (w)hole donut, and John Deere.
He made us believe we were drinking coffee as toddlers, being lifted up by our ears, and watching him swallow a toothpick. He made us believe we were ready for the road at 13 as we drove the lawn mower around the yard.
He made us wonder if he was born without taste buds as he let his food touch on the plate (“It all gets mixed up where it’s going anyhow”) and willingly ate black licorice and honeydew (but never cantaloupe or watermelon).
He made us a kitchen set and blanket chests. He made us rocking chairs and banana holders.
He made us all sad by leaving, but he made us all better by being here.
Delbert Lewis Isley
April 5, 1933 – December 12, 2021
Soybeans, Too 