My Hero

   There have been many people who have made positive impacts on my life. It would be hard to put into words the feelings of love and gratitude that I feel for these people. My life has ,at times, been less than memorable. But I have been incredibly fortunate to have been surrounded by some of the most wonderful people during these times. I can say that if it had not been for my family and friends I would have been a far different person today.
     I would like to talk a little about Mason and Polly Smith. My Aunt and Uncle.They took me into their home at a time when I had wore my welcome out at my own.. They taught me that everything did not have to be a fight. They showed me how to love when it was not earned. They also showed me that a little hard work does not hurt. I can never express how much these two people mean to me. I love them dearly.
     Charlie and Linda Baughman also showed me kindness,even when I did not deserve it. They also had a great impact on my life. I would not be in the position I am now if it had not been for Charlie. Charlie is my cousin but also one of my greatest friends.
     There is something else I would like to say about Mason and Polly and Charlie. These are some of the very few christians that I have know that truly live their lives according to the Bible. I will always admire them for that even though I dont agree with them.
       The person I am writing this blog about though is aomeone who has had the most impact on my life. My one hero. My Dad. He has always been my rock throughout my whole life. I have always known that I can depend on him fully. I can trust him fully.There has never been a doubt that he would not be there for me, not even a second.
        I know of no other person as selfless as my father. He has ALWAYS put the needs of his family before himself. He spent many years  working ,not to get himself things but to provide for his,most of the time unappreciative ,family. I cannnot remember many things he has had just for himself. He  ALWAYS put his life on hold for his family and continues to do so.
    My dad tought me many lessons, most by EXAMPLE. HE taught me to be kind to people reguardless of their income or who their family is. He taught me that we were no better than those less fortunate or less educated.He treats everyone the same. He is not arrogant toward anyone. He taught me to give freely.He still teaches me the value of doing for others freely even through opposition. He shows me the value of being patient, every day.
       My father is honest in who he is. He dosnt act one way around one group of people and different around another group. He is who he is no matter where he is. I dont know of anyone who does not like my father. I wish that I would have shown my father the respect and appreciation he deserved when I was a youth,but the young never do. I can promise you one thing I will from here on out.
    Let me also say something about my mother. Ours has been a rocky relationship. But in the last few years we have grown very close. We are able to talk and laugh and communicate. This is so very special to me. I cherish every moment with her. She has been wonderful to Zane,who thinks his grandma is an angle. She has done and conitnues to do so much for me and the kids. Although my recent de-conversion to atheism has tested this relatiopnship we are fine. What kind of man would I be if I did not stand for what I believe or dont believe. My mother is very special and very important to me. I love her with all of my heart.

Memories of a Beautiful lady

     I often find myself reflecting on the past, my past, my history. I think of all the things that made me, me. Visions float past of all that I have done and said. I recall things I have heard that have made an impression in my mind. Some beatuiful memories of a taste or a smell. Many of my memories are less than favorable but they are unique to me and are mine alone.
    Today I have been reflecting on one of my most cherished and beautiful memories, my grandmother , Mamaw. It is impossible to measure love. There are many a song and poem that attempt to define and measure love. I cannot say that love can truly be defined or measured by words. I can say that I have , do ,
and will always love my Mamaw very, very, much.
   I would like to share some of my memories of this wonderful, beautiful lady. These are memories that make me happy and sad all at the same time. Funny things,,feelings. How can a memory bring us from one side of the spectrum and to the other in a second? But that is what many memories can do,
   I can remember  laying in the bed in the back room of her house. I awake to the wonderful smell of breakfast. I can hear my Mamaw clattering pans about in the kitchen. I hear the birds making a fuss in the morning sun. Through all this I hear a sudden "Shit Fire" come from the direction of the kitchen. This was the only curse word I ever heard her say.(not the first time though).
   This made me giggle. She was taking a pan of biscuits out of the oven and her hand had started shaking and shook some of the biscuits out of the pan and onto the floor. This is the day I learned that she had parkinsons.
    I can think of no better place to eat lunch. I would turn down any five star meal, any steak house specialty, any of the finest cusines from around the globe , just to taste her fried potatoes one more time.I have tried many others fried potatoes, including my own, and none can or will ever compare to hers.I dont know what she did to the to make them taste so good,she could have spit in them for all I know. But they were the best.
   I would love to sit once again and listen to her stories of times past, and marvel at the trials and strife she had been though in her life. I remember that she never told these stories with any remorse. It was just the way things were. She would regale me with stories of my aunts and uncles, and my Dad, when they were young.
   Even though she had very little she gave what she did have freely. She would most always have others over for lunch. When times were hard for some of my aunts or uncles she would give all she had to help. I have been witness to this on more than one occasion. I consider her more of an angle than those who have much to give but give little. She had almost nothing and gave it all. What a wonderful world this would be if we were all like her.
    These are just a few of the cherrished memories I have of her. There are many more and maybe I will share them with you some day. I just miss her. I think of her every day. I think of how kind and generous she was. I think of the example of love, charity, and family she has set for so many of us. I am glad and proud that in my life I have met ,loved, and was loved by a true angle. My Mamaw

There is peace in the Valley

   The buzzing of the alarm wakes me at 6 am, sounding like a nuclear launch. Always placing it out of reach I must get up to silence the noise that has disturbed my slumber. Rising from bed Is not a chore for I  have nothing dreadful to do. There is nothing pressing me for my time. I am glad to awake and start a new day. Always looking forward , wondering what there will be in store.
    As I get out of bed I look over to the perfect little being that had been at my side all night. He is my little pardner, my buddy, my heart, my life. How can anythig be more beautiful than he? I think of all the joy he has brought into my life in his five years. I will have to get him up in a short while for school ,but for now I will leave him to his dreams.
     I walk from the bed and into the shower, as I do most every day. I like to let the warm water run for a while. Standing under it letting my thoughts run free. I could not say what I think about, I just relax under the warm shower of water. I get out and do the normal things, shave , brush my teeth, look at my hair. I keep my hair short so I dont need to do more than look at it.
    My coffee is done and waiting for me in the kitchen. I check on Zane, he is still dreaming little boy dreams.
It is time to go over to Mom and Dads. I walk out the door to a chilly mornig. The fresh cool air is wonderful.
Looking out the sun has just started to rise over the mountains. I think how beautiful this truly is. I can feel the warm sun on my face through the cold air. I almost have to squint. I think of how lucky I am to be here right at this moment.
  I cherrish every minute of my mornig coffee ritual with me parents. We talk back and forth with ease almost like old friends. We are comfortable with each other and this makes me happy. I feel I have nothing to hide or be ashamed of. I feel like we can talk about anything,and we often do.
  It is now seven and time to wake Ole Zane. I wake him playing as I always do. I think it important for him to wake up happy. As usual he opens his eyes laughing at whatever I am doing. We play for a few minutes then it is off to the shower. He (most of the time) does not fus or whine. Like me, he to likes to let the water run on him for a while before we get down to the buisness of washing. When he is out and dried I tie the towel around him, he puts on sandals and beats feet over to Grandmas. My mother is an angel to him.And he loves and adores her very much. She will get him dressed(well, she supervises the operation) does his hair, to a point. He likes to spike his hair in the front and is not happy with anyone doing it but himself.
    We get into the car about 7:45 for the short ride to school. Sitting there in his seat he looks so big to me now. And yet sometimes he still looks so little. I pull into the lot at school and we get out. I walk him to the gate and tell him I love him. He says I love you too and darts off to play with the other children.
   I then make my way back home looking forward to what the day will bring.
As I sit here now I think of all the good things in my life. I am happy. And as I look out into the night I think, I have found it. There is peace in the valley