Momma always got so frustrated by my Daddy. He knew the ESPN scheduling whether it was football, baseball or Japanese Pygmy wrestling. He did not know his way around a kitchen while she was alive except for a distinctive trail to the Ritz crackers and peanut butter or to the ice cream in the freezer. He loved to break out into a gracious tune of ‘I married the tattooed lady’ which kept us all in stitches. She wasn’t amused. Maybe it was somewhere between the fact that she said only sailors and hookers got tattoos or that she was generally annoyed by his live life for today attitude. I saw it the most when he would be preparing for a surgery. Instead of being wound tight, instead of worrying, he smiled and would be wheeled off with laughter in his voice and heart. I never will forget her looking at him saying, “You act like you are going to a cake walk, Don!”
I woke up this morning at my sister’s house and walked out on her porch upon waking and all that my heart and head could recall was my last time with Daddy before he died. He was standing there with my brother singing The Lord’s Prayer as my sister, my husband and I scattered my Hannah’s ashes in the front yard of her mountain home. It was the place my Hannah spent her last year and also my Daddy. Perhaps that is why my heart yearns to be in the mountains so much. There is so much of my love there and the people I love and loved the most. Simply, my Daddy stood and sang to The Lord and us all in honor of a dog who loved and journeyed with us all.
Daddy was like that. He woke every morning and faithfully read his daily readings and scriptures. He sang in the choir until his hearing no longer supported his voice. He was quick to share the sports trivia for the day including his disdain for Alabama football. He took pleasure in meeting people and displeasure from any guidance or words his wife or daughters felt they needed to share. He felt we worried too much about tomorrow when today was what we should be living.
Daddy has been here with us today through his presence on the front porch to my brother in law breaking the shaft on the riding lawn mower–I think Daddy smiled at that one knowing Jim always thought it would be Daddy the reason for repair.
I can’t help to laugh and cry in the same breath as it is so hard to not have him here, but so precious to know that in some ways he hasn’t left at all. I guess that is what happens when you focus on the cake walk today instead of what is in the oven for later.
We have ended our day, riding on Daddy’s UTV, Tukie (which was Momma’s nickname and certainly something that would have been uncouth in her eyes, why in the hell would he have named it after her she would have said…), watching the fireflies dance just as I am sure Momma, Daddy, Aunt Mackie and Uncle Chic are doing in Heaven.
Amen.