A few seconds later she was back with the cup. She handed it to me and I took a sip—it was hot. I blew on it for a few seconds then took another sip.”
–D.C. Adkisson (Walker)
Mornin’ Pard, glad yuh showed up. Whoopee, it’s been a busy few days, almost didn’t get this up and out. The ol’ steel mounts were ailin’, had to get them to get taken care of, in fact, one is ailin’ right now with a broken down hoof. Then had to see the sawbones a couple of times this week. Nothin’ urgent, he didn’t remove nothin’, but gave me a good bill of health. That’s good news for this ol’ fence post.
Father’s Day is tomorrow. I remember my Dad. He died before he reached his sixtieth birthday. In his later years, he was a bit of a conundrum, but the negative side has pretty much faded away. I remember how we would sit and talk baseball. He would show me things about the game, then after a game we would dissect it. He knew the value of work, he told me that the greatest gift his father (my Grandpa) gave him was the value of hard work. Helpin’ others was part of my Dad’s nature. Why, Pard, if’n yuh needed it, he’d give yuh the shirt off his back. Dad worked at many jobs, but mostly he was a truck driver. One of the greatest compliments he ever gave me was the time we were movin’ Grandma and my Aunt, and I was backin’ up a truck. He said that he couldn’t have done it any better himself.
Most of the time, Dad worked two jobs, and wasn’t around. But let me tell yuh this Pard, go ahead and slurp yur coffee, and I’ll tell yuh, it was Dad that got me to drinkin’ my coffee black. No cinos from him, no way! No, he didn’t tell me to drink it thataway, I just watched him. He liked his black, so I would too. Don’t ever tell me that yur parents don’t have influence over a youngster.
Back to what I was goin’ to say. My heavenly Father is always there. He is interested in me talkin’ with Him about my plans, I don’t know if’n He smiles, but I know He will tell me that I might want to reconsider something, or He’ll guide me a different direction that what I had intended. My Dad wasn’t a hugger, neither am I much, but I know my heavenly Father welcomes me to His arms–for protection, for security, for safety, sometimes just for the good feelin’ it gives. My Dad was a small man in stature, but strong, especially his arms. I reckon because he drove them big trucks, and that was before power steering. Shucks, that’s now a candle to the strength of my heavenly Father.
Dad was a jack-of-all trades, a fixer-upper. However, my heavenly Father is the One who made everythin’ from nothin’. Oh, He fixes things–broken lives, broken hearts, broken souls, but He is also a builder. Why Pard, let me tell yuh, right now His Son, Jesus, is fixin’ me up a place to stay with Him for eternity. Yep, I’m part of His family now, an’ that is somethin’.
Go ahead an’ swaller that last drop. Be seein’ yuh, if’n yuh don’t fall off yur hoss ’cause yuh forgot to check yur cinch. Plenty to get done today.
Vaya con Dios.