Today I am exactly the same age as my dad was when he died.
60 years, 9 months, 3 weeks, 4 days. Exactly.
Continue reading April 4, 2024Tag Archives: Faith
Dear Asher,
You are a complete joy to our family!
You were born during the COVID pandemic, a time when people had more fear and anxiety than intelligence and common sense. The day you were born, JJ and I met your mama and dad in front of the hospital at 5:00 AM. We took a quick picture, then JJ and I sat outside in the parking lot with an eye on the room where your mama would be after you were born.
It seemed like forever, but it really wasn’t very long before your dad texted. He came to the fourth-floor window of the hospital and held you up in his arms. It was too far away to see you, but we knew that both you and your mom were fine. Moreover, we loved you instantly!
Since that December day two and a half years ago, you’ve grown like a weed. Really, you’ve grown too fast, little man. One day you’ll look back on time and know what I mean.
Such is life, Asher. It is but a vapor, here today, gone tomorrow.
Some days, particularly when you are young, drag by. But if the Lord extends grace and you grow old, the same days will fly by. Treasure each one. Every day is a gift. Every moment is a living treasure.
There’s no way to say all I want to share, so let me whittle it down to just a few things I feel impressed to tell you.
Continue reading Dear Asher,
Keep the Wolves Away
There’s no telling how many times I’ve crossed Intercoastal Bridge on the way to Surfside Beach, Texas.
I grew up nearby.
I’ve crabbed the bayous, wade fished the surf, cast lines from the jetties, swam the waters, and all the while immensely adding to my chances of skin cancer.
This time the trip across the bridge didn’t go to the beach but to a marina. Deep sea fishing. 50 miles out on a chartered boat with my four sons and son-in-law.
It was Friday the 13th, maybe not the best day to go more than 50 miles out on the wild blue yonder with all my name linage, but that’s what we did.
We met the two fishing guides 30 minutes before daylight, swallowed more Dramamine, and set sail.
Continue reading Keep the Wolves Away
Sunday Lunch
“What does Sunday Lunch cost each week?”
My son’s question caught me off guard. I’d never really thought about it.
My mind slipped to money mode as I mentally scanned items on an imaginary grocery checkout line.
“About $50 to $75 a week, depending on the menu, and how many are here.”
Honestly, it doesn’t matter. It’s just money. It costs what it costs.
The big expense isn’t money. It’s energy. A normal Sunday Lunch includes menu selection, grocery shopping, group texts to see who’s coming.
There’s time to prep, cook and clean. There’s lunch time itself, dirty dishes, cleaning again, taking out trash, putting up toys inside and out.
Now and then, the physical and emotional energy tank is on empty while puttering on fumes. It’s an act of the will on those days.
Regardless, Sunday Lunch is a normal thing. It’s just what we do. Besides, you can be empty in energy, but full in the heart.
April 4, 2024
It’s the day I’ll be the exact same age as my dad when he died.
I figured out the date 10 years ago. It’s been on my work bulletin board ever since.
Now it’s less than a year away, 47 weeks to be exact.
It’s not a day to worry about, just be aware of.
Maybe I’ll take off.
Maybe I’ll go fishing at a nearby lake at the dam, a place where the turmoil of the released water churns up choppy white waters until finally slowing to a gentle roll farther downstream.
Maybe the day itself will feel like that. I don’t know.
Is it any coincidence my thyroid is acting up now? Possibly the beginning of a hypothyroid with a plausible diagnosis of Hashimoto Thyroiditis.
That’s what’s on my dad’s death certificate. The doctors tell me Hashimoto’s doesn’t cause death.
Continue reading April 4, 2024
Blue Plastic Egg
Saturday I was on a mission to pick up Janet at the end of the day at a Houston airport.
I stopped to get her dinner and sat in front of the second Chick-fil-A drive through line waiting on my order.
It’s always the same, no matter where you go. They bring it out and ask your name to confirm the order while handing it to you. I say, “Thank you.” They say, “My pleasure.”
Normally, I’m itching to get it and roll on. This time though, I wanted to just sit and watch.
A guy walked out of Chick-fi-A with a coke in his hand. His pants were a size too big, his belt missed a loop or two, and his shirt peculiarly looked like it was from the 1960s.
He didn’t have on ear buds, and he wasn’t on a phone, so he was definitely talking to himself.
He stopped at the crosswalk talking away, as if an imaginary person was sitting on his shoulder. He didn’t bother looking either way. He just stepped out in the drive area, staring at the ground.
Continue reading Blue Plastic Egg
Ump
It was a coach pitch All-Star tournament for 7 and 8 year old players. One of the grandsons was playing, so it was double fun!
But between mamas letting their little boys loose, daddies holding their tongues, and coaches reliving their Little League glory days, drama and emotion can quickly ooze into the games.
It’s usually from the coaches and parents more than the kids. Boys like the competition, but at that age, the biggest concern for most of them is what flavor of snow cone to get after the game.
And the poor umpires? They often get blasted from both sides! This day was different though. This game had a short, stocky, 40-year veteran umpire.
In the first inning, I heard him tell someone while rubbing his head that every gray hair he had was from umpiring. He winked adding, “I was 6 feet 7 inches tall when I started umpiring, but I’ve been chewed on so much over the years, I’m only 5’ 7” now! “
Continue reading Ump
Reprise
It’s tedious. Removing calcium deposits from pool tile at the water line.
Our pool’s never been cleaned, so three tiles at the water line had to be scraped and scrubbed.
Doing a 20 by 40 foot pool with a hand scraper is like an ant sized dental hygienist cleaning your teeth.
A pumice stone polishes off the remnants, but that hard crusty stuff, it only comes off with scrapes, scratches and scrubs.
Continue reading Reprise
Clear Skies
Alone.
Yet, not.
Large families.
There are 33 people on the wall. Kids, kids-of-heart, grandkids, Janet, myself.
There’s always something going on in a big family. Someone’s always around, nearby, or on the way.
Continue reading Clear Skies
Junkyard Explosion
Once upon a time there was an explosion in a junkyard.
It all started with increasing nitrogen gases expelled from overheating debris in the hot summer sun.
It was epic! One of a kind! Never to be duplicated!
I can’t prove it, so just trust me, it was the PERFECT storm to create such a powerful explosion!
Continue reading Junkyard Explosion
RabBits 