This is a picture of me and my Daddy Ralph when I was four years old. The curls are all natural and even though this picture is black and white you can see that some of my physical characteristics came from Mama's side of the family. My hair was jet black and my eyes just as black. Unfortunately, for some reason, my hair lightened and my eyes changed to hazel. The curls have also relaxed. When I was a teen I used to iron them out. Now I wish I had them back.
My Daddy Ralph
Many of my memories
Of the man who wore this name
Were shared with me by others
When ‘round the table we all came.
Daddy Ralph was Mama’s Daddy
He stood tall and was quite lean.
To me he was quite handsome
With hair and eyes of ebony.
When he would come to visit
He would spoil me from the start.
A baby doll as big as me
Was the first gift from his heart.
In fact it was so near my size
That with it he played a trick.
Wrapped up in my baby quilt
Tossed to my Daddy, he turned quite sick.
He didn’t come real often.
When he did the time was grand.
He would take me on a car drive
Or a walk when I’d hold his hand.
My very favorite place to be
When he’d come just us to see
Was sitting up on lofty high
Taking rides upon his knee.
If I was not sitting on his lap
It was sure I’d be quite near.
He never got out of my sight
Unless he left when I couldn’t hear.
Happy were the times we shared
But too soon he was all gone.
I’d just turned eleven
When he suddenly went home.
We didn’t get to say goodbye.
We didn’t know his heart was failing.
Where I picture him today
Is with me behind him trailing.
I love you Daddy Ralph.
September 21, 2009
Mimmy aka Joyce Smith