Daddy's Little Girl

This picture was taken when I was 12, and my friends and I were playing with an old wedding dress. He was showing me how my husband would hoist me up into his arms when I got married. A moment that will always be close to my heart.

I love my mother, but I was definitely daddy's little girl. Let me explain the relationship between me and my daddy, so you can appreciate the next posts about him.

One of the main things I remember most about him, was his whistling to the oldies. He loved the oldies. He'd tape the oldies from the radio, he loved them so much. We'd be in his old truck that had spray paint on the rust spots, he said it made it look camouflaged like in the army, (mom hated it, but he loved it) and he'd be whistling through his teeth along with the melody of some oldies song. I remember one of his favorite songs was "Turn, Turn, Turn." He believed in that scriptural song, and so the family followed his lead. He was the backbone to all of our faith, growing up. Using everything in every moment to give us a fresh experience that we would never forget.
He would take us kids to the airport, and we'd stand just outside the fences that blocked off the runway, and we'd just watch the planes take off. He'd take me to "Daughter's Go To Work Day" and that would be the highlight of my year. He worked at the Logan Community Center in Des Moines as a maintenance man. He would take me everywhere with him in that building and tell me where kids weren't allowed, but snuck me in with him. We'd eat donuts from the kitchen. Everyone loved my dad at his work. Everyone he came across, would burst out in a cheerful, "Well, hi there, Joe." He'd reply with a "Howdy" or a "Hi there, Mrs. ---- or Mr. ----" We'd go into his cool janitorial office that was often on the louder side cause of the equipment, but I remember his stash of sour strawberry straws.
Every morning he'd grab donuts and a chocolate milk before work. But on weekends, it would always be bacon. He'd be making bacon before anyone got up, so we'd wake up to the smell of bacon and there we would find it, resting on newspaper on the counter top. He loved reading the paper and watching CNN, and listening to Rush Limbaugh. He agreed with almost everything Rush said, but had to chuckle at his conceitedness.
Whenever I was angry and he thought I needed to blow off steam, he'd drive me out the this particular cemetery. I hated cemeteries, cause I hated the thought of all these dead bodies underneath me, but he didn't think that way at all. He found it the most peaceful place. None of our family actually was buried there at that point and still, he'd go there just to savor the peacefulness. I'd be sitting there in the car, asking, "Can we leave this awful place now?" and he'd smile at me, and make me get out, to walk around with him. He'd tell me about all who was family as we passed each headstone. It's like he would study the headstones, to figure out who was who, and who was connected to who. Mom remembers one time, he took her out there in the winter time when it was all covered in snow. He counted his steps in a certain pattern, and then stopped. Brushed off the snow from the ground revealing a headstone that had the name Winter on it. He was a very creative man.
He also had dry humor, as every Ruppert does. God love them all. I truly appreciate dry humor. I've realized it's "melancholic humor" cause it all goes so deep no one else understands it. Yes, I too, am a melancholy. I think that's why dad and I clicked so well. My mother is more of a free-spirit, so dad and I understood each other better.

My dad loved my mom though. If there was anything I could take away from my childhood, it would be that. I could go on and on about the characteristics of my dad, but the love he had for my mother, was the greatest. She had a wild spirit when they met, living a troubled life with her two little girls. They both worked at a nursing home, and he told me the first time he saw her and fell in love with her. He said, he saw her down the hallway, and there was this ugly old woman in a wheelchair. And mom bent down and got in that woman's face and gave her a deep embracing hug and that's when dad knew she was the one he had waited for. He wanted her number, but was too shy to ask for it, but somehow he found out that she needed a table. So he went out and bought a table and came to her, saying that he had a table sitting around the house that he does not need. She was very grateful for his offer. He, of course, needed her number to find out where to deliver that table to. Creative little thing he is. He kept that piece of paper with her number on it for the rest of his days. Their first date was on top of the roof of that nursing home. My mom will never forget it.
My dad grew up a Catholic, and my mom with no religion, really, so they were both saved together during marriage counseling with a Pastor Dewey before they were to marry. They were married on the Chapel on the Hill in Eldora ( beautiful place) with my sisters, Angie(10) and Holly(7) on each of their sides, and me almost done cookin in mom's belly. (oops:) I was born 3 weeks later with a face just like dad's. And then a year and a half later, twin boys were born. Seth and Noah. So there we were... 5 kids, and two parents that loved each other. We were poor, but found joy in the little things.

I remember one time, when mom was sick and the rest of us had to go to church that morning. Dad, with us 3 remaining kids, were riding along, and then after a while, dad says, " I think I took a wrong turn somewhere." All of us kids were panicked cause we were lost. He got out his atlas, and made us figure out where we were, by looking at things like mile markers and streets and towns nearby. We figured out we were close to Marshalltown, which is far from our Des Moines church. :) We didn't go to church that morning, but remembered it forever.

We had a cuddle position that I will never forget the feeling of. He'd sit down in his usual spot on the couch, and I would sit right next to him, right by his side. He'd lift his arm, making way for my knees that would be soon bent over on his lap. Then he'd wrap his arm around my legs, then I would lay my head on his shoulder, with my arms wrapped around his arm.

I love him so much, and I miss him. I wanted to give you a hint of his spirit before I tell you his extraordinary story. He was a promise keeper, and a man of integrity, giving everything his best. Including his death.









My dad took the picture of the car, (click and see what the plate says)