A Good Hand Workout

Living in the country or in a small town, it's just neighborly to share the fruits of your labor. My daddy loved to do this with the vegetables he grew in his garden each year, and the same thing many others do with not only the things they harvest, but sometimes with the "catch of the day" (as I've mentioned before in an earlier post). Well, such was the case last week when the neighbors from down the road shared some of their harvest of grapes...Duane Aaron that is. Since Mama is the one that puts up most of the fruit and vegetables in the family, the bag was turned over to her...all ten pounds. Duane Aaron had told me his Daddy is the one that prepares the grapes before his Mama puts hers up. Oh my...somehow I sensed I was fixing to be suckered in on this grape project.

A few days later at church that Sunday, Duane Aaron asked had we put the grapes up yet? I said, "No, WE'LL probably do that tomorrow (Labor Day). What'd I tell you?

With it being a holiday, I do get to sleep in an hour later than any other day, but it's nice to get up and not have to put on any makeup, or fix my hair. Might look like road kill, but it sure does feel nice. I drink my coffee then tell mama that if she wants me to help her, I want to get started immediately as I didn't want to spend my whole day working on my day off.

How many of you have seen the "I Love Lucy" episode when Lucy is stomping the grapes in the wine vat? Check it out on YouTube, if you haven't. Too funny. Of course in my physical condition I couldn't stomp the grapes, and rolling over ten pounds of grapes with my wheelchair would be uncalled for...especially since what happened to me Saturday. (I had rolled out to the clothesline to hang up a load of clothes. The fertilizer I had my nephew throw out on our lawn back in the spring had made our grass so nice and thick, and slightly wet with dew, made it a little harder to roll in, plus hide stuff...like a little deposit from my dog right down the path I chose to roll in. Of course I didn't notice it till on my way back to the sidewalk. Trust me, I scrubbed my tires and hands, and would have shot my dog if a gun were nearby.) But that's another story...

The grapes are washed real good. To be on the sanitary side I wear gloves, and for the next hour I am squeezing grapes. The gloves were also a safeguard to keep from staining my hands since I had to go somewhere later that evening, I didn't want to have purple-stained hands, looking as though I didn't take a bath. (The purple is the outside skins, and the pulp is the green stuff.)

When we "use to" diet around the house, we had a scale for measuring portions, but since it's been so long since we've dieted we couldn't find that scale, so mama would trapes back and forth to her bathroom scales to weigh out three pounds each batch called for. I proceed to squeeze the grapes, while Mama gets her canning jars down and gives them a good wash, then places them in the oven on warm to keep them hot for what she'll be placing in them.

Each batch was then boiled down (grape hull, pulp, and all) along with half a cup of water. The grapes were so pretty and purple, we were in hopes that the juices turn this same color, but they didn't. We had to create our own purple color with a few drops of food coloring to give it that grape jelly affect. This grape mixture was later drained through a sieve and the juices collected into the next pot.

Before she starts the cooking process, she arranges her hot pads, tongs, funnel, and the magnetic stick that she uses to pick up the sterilized lids for sealing the jars. The grape juices were then cooked down with only 7 cups of sugar, and when it comes to a full boil, she adds the pectin for thickening. It looks good...

Don't get in Mama's way when she's in the canning process, or she'll run over you. Well, I could think of nothing worse than her tripping and scalding me with a whole pot of the grape jelly juices, so I move out of her way. She places the funnel over each jar and pours the hot grape-mixture into each jar, one at a time. As she completes each pouring, she wipes each jar off to make sure nothing interferes in the sealing process once she places the lid on, then she turns each jar upside down, to keep everything hot (around the lid area). When she finishes pouring the grape jelly into her last jar, she turns them all right side up. When she completes this process, you know what she does? She prays. Yes, you heard me right, she prays. She prays that each one seals. Then she turns a fan on and lets it blow on her jars. Over the next thirty minutes or so you hear pop, pop, pop, as each lid seals. And with each pop goes a "Thank you Jesus." We were able to do this whole procedure two times with a little left over, but not quite enough to do a third batch.

It kills me, Mama gives away more jelly or preserves than what she keeps. Not that we're selfish people, but Mama would always (and still does) make up a batch of peach and strawberry preserves and when Daddy was living he would ask, "Who is that for? I know it's not for us because you'll give it all away before we get to try any." And Mama's reply, "I'm the one making it, and if I want to give away every jar, I'll do it." We'd get a jar though. As I left for work Tuesday morning, you know what Mama said? "Now take this jar of grape jelly to the office this morning in case Duane Aaron comes by." I wasn't out there 10 minutes when the phone rang and it was Duane Aaron asking if we made the jelly. I said, "Yes, I squeezed all ten pounds for her." He asked if she could use any more and I knew she could use about two pounds to put with the little bit she had left over...but first I wanted to make sure she felt up to it, so I told him I needed to call her first to find out. You know what her comment was? "Yes, tell him I sure could use some more...as long as I've got you to help me squeeze the grapes." So I called him back and told him. I just shook my head. I know when it's all said and done though, ohhh the finished product....fit for use (consuming it, that is).

To me, making jelly is in many ways like the life of a Christian. When Jesus was invited to do so and came to live inside of me 28 years ago, he washed away my sins and made me like Mama did her mason jars...a clean vessel. Much like the grapes, the day to day pressures of this life are enough to feel like the life is being squeezed out of us, the heat of troubles and trials are enough to nearly kill us or knock us down real low. Though it doesn't feel like it at the time we're going through these, they can make us stronger, and in turn, with the help and comfort we receive from our Heavenly Father, we're able to help and encourage those that go through the same "stuff."

After 28 years, I can still honestly say Jesus has filled my life with his treasure, and placed a seal on me to preserve it.

II Corinthians 1: 22 says: He anointed us, set his seal of ownership on us, and put His Spirit in our hearts as a deposit, guaranteeing what is to come.

I like what II Corinthians 4: 7 - 9, 16 - 18 has to say also: But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellence of the power may be of God and not of us. We are hard pressed on every side, yet not crushed; we are perplexed, but not in despair, persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed...... Therefore, we do not lose heart. Even though our outward man is perishing, yet the inward man is being renewed day by day. For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, is working for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory, while we do not look at the things which are seen. For the things which are seen are temporary, but the things which are not seen are eternal.

Not because of anything I have done, but because of all He has done for me...I am His finished product...fit for His use.

In closing, Duane Aaron came to pick up his jar of grape jelly yesterday, and bless his heart in return he brought 2 bags of grapes......but I must give credit where credit is due, his daughter Pricilla informed me her mother Linda had been out picking all those grapes.

Somehow I think I know what I'll be doing Saturday morning.

Here Come De Judge

I was honored a few weeks ago to be asked by the College & Career Class at church of being a judge at the "Let's Get Cookin'" BBQ Cook off. I was told not to tell anyone...well that's a hard thing to do, but understandable as I didn't want any of the participants from church or the community to try and slip me a little money under the table.

So Saturday finally arrives and we're told to be at the church around 10:00 to be briefed on the judging part...I thought, how hard is it going to be to be a judge? We're first informed it's not unlikely that some people get so sick from eating all of the the food they have to judge that they have to throw up...oh great.

Four categories....ribs, chicken, Boston butt, and brisket.

Being from the South where barbecuing is as common as breathing, watching enough on the cooking channel and learning many BBQ tips or techniques, and tasting plenty of BBQ in my soon-to-be 50 years that I thought I learned enough of what good BBQ should taste like. After all, BBQ (that I've tasted) doesn't get any better than Whitehurst BBQ, Wayne Hopping's, and my brother Wes'. Unfortunately, Wes didn't enter in the competition because he was asked to judge, and Wayne was in the contest along with two young men who happened to be from the Whitehurst family (and they were all on different teams). We had 9 teams, but not all entered in the 4 categories. We were given score cards and rate the meat between 5 and 10....7.5 being the average number. We were to judge first on taste, and next...on the tenderness of the meat. If possible, we were to leave any comments, good or bad. Lastly, no talking while that piece of meat is being judged, but that we could talk in between waiting on the next team's meat.

The competition started at 11:00, so we have half an hour to kill before we enter the judging room. The class decided beforehand they would also have a BBQ dinner where plates were served while the judging was going on, but this would not interfere with the competition part as there was separate meat prepared on different grills for this purpose. Everything was set up so well, thanks to the hard work the C & C class had done in preparation for it. In our church's nursery in the main building, two students of that class intercepted the meat and posted a number on a white Styrofoam box as to who's team it represented....based on a first come-first serve basis. This number was written in 3 different places so there would be no confusion as to who's team it represented. In each category the team that was the first one there could very well be the 5th one in line on the next category...so the team more-than-likely had a different number as each category changed. Next, a different person would go get that team's meat and take it over to building 2...where the judges were set up in an inner room within the building. We took our forks and as the meat was passed around, we would pull a portion away for our tasting. I had already made up my mind to go with small portions as I knew we had a lot of meat to consume this day...and I didn't want to be one that may have to throw up because I ate too much.

Upon my first bite of rib, I think I broke a rule by talking...it was so good I had to give out a big sigh, "Ohhhh man." That rib was so tender, moist, and full of flavor that I couldn't imagine not eating any more of that particular rib, so I set it aside and eventually got word to my sister to send in a Ziploc bag that would serve as my doggie bag...only this wasn't going to the dogs but to me, to take home to consume later. We had 8 ribs to try and two teams tied, so we had to take another bite of the 2 we had marked and voted again....and it tied again. So a person was pulled out of the kitchen and brought into our room and asked to take a bite of each and write one number down as to which she thought tasted the best, and that was the winning vote.

The chickens were next, and I think all 9 teams competed in this category. Again we pulled our test portions and gave our scores. By now I'm thinking, "We're only halfway through."

The Boston butts came in....all of which were different. Some had a little smoked flavor, and some were sent in with a bit of "au jus" on the side for dipping. I was good about commenting on each piece of meat in each category so far, and never really gave out any "bad" comments...maybe things like a "tad on the salty side", but nothing mean as I didn't want to hurt any one's feelings. I still don't know who's team it was, but I plucked my piece from the Styrofoam plate and as I started chewing, though the taste wasn't bad, I chewed on a piece of meat that was so springy I didn't know what to do. I really didn't want to spit it out in front of the 2 judges that sat at my table (and whom I didn't really know up until that day), so I chewed and chewed. Though the taste was not bad and which I scored accordingly, the only comment I could give was that it was "bouncy"....in other words, it bounced around in my mouth until all I could do was just swallow and wash it down with the bottled water they had placed at each judge's seat.

Have I made you hungry for BBQ yet?

This was fun, but I knew there was one more category and I was starting to get full. Not all 9 teams entered in this category, so I know I had at least 7 or 8 pieces of meat to test. I've always been told if you don't cook this piece of meat right, it could be be very tough. I thought, "I've already eaten bouncy stuff, I hope I don't get a piece of leather in my mouth from the brisket." I never did eat any that was too tough, but I got a few pieces that though they may have been tender, they were a little on the dry side. I've learned that brisket is not my favorite choice of meat...a little different in taste...more on the strong side. Or was it because all I had eaten at this point was chicken and pork? Never the less, I was so happy to finish my judging part and know that I was full, but not too full that it made me sick.

When all the scores had been tallied up, Mr. Hopping ended up placing somewhere in each category, and one of the teams that had a Whitehurst represented in it walked away with trophies also. All teams (except maybe 2) won some type of trophy though. And those that didn't, well at least they gave it their best shot, and they have the comments everyone left so that they can correct any mistakes they made and enter in the next competition.

I've said all of that to say this, one day we will all stand before a judge have to give account of this life we've lived. Good or bad, he won't leave a comment in hopes of you correcting and making it better. For we must all appear for the judgment seat of Christ, that each one may receive what is due him for the things done while in the body, whether good or bad. (2 Cor. 5:10)

I had a good time in the BBQ judging last week, and I understand those that entered had a lot more fun as they started out early the evening before and all during the night with the fellowship of those that participated in the event. I hope I get asked again, but someone else may get the opportunity to try it as I understand they plan on doing this event once or twice a year. The event is open to anyone that wants to compete.

Whether you've heard it firsthand at church, on the radio, or on TV...we've all been given the opportunity to know what it takes to enter in God's kingdom. Some put it off and think that they've got all the time in the world to do so, and some put on a good show on Sunday and live like the devil the rest of the week (Sunday Christians, I call them), some accept and play by the handbook rules and give it their very best shot, and then there are some that want no part of Christianity. There are all type of excuses out there that may fit you, or someone you know. The one and only judge (Jesus) gives us the rules, and the handbook to go by and let's us know before time how we'll be judged. Will you go by them, or will you break the rules? Here's what the "handbook" has to say about that... Not everyone who says to me, 'Lord, Lord,' will enter the kingdom of heaven, but ONLY he who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. Many will say to me on that day, 'Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and in your name drive out demons and perform many miracles?' Then I will tell them plainly, 'I never knew you. Away from me, you evildoers!' "Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock, The rain came down, the streams arose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock. But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell with a great crash."

It took getting knocked down to my lowest before I "looked up" and made the decision to follow Christ years ago, and the best way I can sum it up and end this blog at the same time is to say what the Psalmist said in the 34th chapter in verse 8: Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good; Blessed is the man who trusts in him!

What a Trip!

Well, it's been several days since I got back from my vacation and I thought I'd catch up on a little blogging since it's been a month or so since my last post.

After church Sunday afternoon the 12th, we all ran home and had lunch at mama's, then we were off on a road trip...to the Smoky Mountains...my home away from home. The crew this trip was none other than Ginger, Erik, Logan, Tyler, Shelby, Peggy (Erik's mom), Laura (who was an exchange student in Williston in 07-08), and I...of course I rode with the younger crew. Shelby likes to sleep, Laura more or less stays quiet unless you ask her a question (sounds much like a Smith, huh?), Tyler and Logan kept me entertained with their singing abilities.

We stopped for supper north of Atlanta at an Olive Garden since Laura had never been to one (Laura is from Germany). We exit the interstate and as we're waiting for the red light to change, we start noticing the electrical lines overhead are covered with birds upon birds, with more flying in and perching on the wires. Looks like a scene out of Alfred Hitchcock's movie, "The Birds". Scary. I wish I would have gotten a picture of this, only I'm busy watching as the dark clouds gather and looking as though a storm could roll in at any time. As I'm getting out of the vehicle, Ginger runs ahead to see how long the wait will be seeing the parking lot is filled to capacity. She comes out and informs us of a 20 minute wait....but, when she tells them one will be in a wheelchair, they tell her to come right on in and they'll seat us immediately. What does that tell you? You've got to know the right people. If you have a long wait, just ask me to come along and I can get you right in! I have special connections...hmmm, the ONLY advantage I know to being in a wheelchair. As we enter the Olive Garden, the host starts to ask us the number of people in our party, but upon seeing me he says, "Oh, you're in the wheelchair party, come right in." It was a good meal, and the storm starts up as we're eating...and continues as we finish up and try to load up in the vehicles.

Rather than driving the speed limit, we're moving a bit slower due to the rain and the drive seems to be a little longer than expected...like 2 1/2 hours longer. By this time we're completely give out. As we're nearing our destination, I asked Laura how to say, "I am tired" in German. Well, you have to roll your tongue and practically stand on your head to say some words. By the time we unload and everyone goes to bed, it's close to the midnight hour and I thought I had "ich-bin-muel" down pat (or that's what it sounds like in English). I sleep well that night, but I don't get to sleep in late as I was awaken by the phone ringing rather than my alarm clock. This picture (from my phone) is just an inkling of what my view was each morning as I opened my blinds.

On Monday, we travel into town to do a little grocery shopping. We spend about an hour in the grocery store...this is the only store I can go in and stay all day at. A variety of fresh pastries from their bakery, vegetables, etc. The rest of the day we sit or lay around and rest our weary bones. Steaks are grilled for supper with sides of tossed salad, mashed potatoes, rolls and sweet iced tea. It was very good I must say. The weather forecasts showers by the latter part of the week, so we adjust our schedules accordingly....just get me to the water.

Tuesday arrives, the young ones sleep in and us older ones wait for them to come up for breakfast. What is it with young people? Growing up, If we weren't up by the time the rooster crowed, my daddy would tell us we were "sleeping our life away." Seriously, by the time you sleep in till almost noon, half your day is shot (daylight hours, that is). Back to my story...I mix up some pimento cheese and we get the rest of our picnic supplies (minus the Oreo's they forgot to put in the bag) and head to the lake to rent a 25" pontoon boat to go out on.

To be confined to a wheelchair 365 days a year, one looks forward to being able to get out of it when given the opportunity. Since the human body has natural buoyancy to it (or in it), one of the few pleasures that can still be enjoyed for me is being able to swim...and that I did. I was shriveled like a prune by the time I got out of the water. For me, it's much easier to enter the water via being thrown in than any other way. I wish I could say they just lowered me down into the water, but it's heeve-ho and overboard I go...much easier this way. Here at beautiful Lake Chatuge that stretches for miles, wraps around mountains, has hidden coves and averages 80' and 90' depths, catfish have been seen that some say are the length of a car...or I heard a boat....but what the heck, anything over the length of my arm is monstrous. When I went swimming here last year and this particular day last week, all I could think of as I entered the water is, "Is this boat-sized catfish waiting on me?" I did better this time before I was thrown into the water, but last year I screamed for the first 10-15 seconds after hitting the water.

No, I didn't see any fish. Logan took his underwater camera (to which I threatened to drown anyone that takes an underwater shot of this body), and of the shots he got under water, we didn't see any fish...thank the Lord. I had bought a bathing suit that had a stupid silver ring in the top part of it, and was so thankful it didn't attract fish into thinking I was some sort of jig. After about an hour of staying in the water, we got back into the boat, had a scrumptious picnic while anchored at a nice cove, then we slowly made our way back to the marina.

We had BBQ from Rib Country for supper later this evening, and I made brownies and homemade hot fudge sauce to have with our ala modes. Being around water always makes one hungry as a horse. Of course by the looks of me, I must be in the fish family...Orca or Shamu.

I decided to stay around the house on Wednesday and do a little blogging, check my FaceBook, and read on a book while they head over to Helen, GA for Laura to see the way the town is decorated year round...Bavarian style. After visiting the little shops, and eating lunch at the restaurant that sits over the creek, the crew heads back on the winding road home (one that can make you sick) and we eat at my most favorite restaurant later that evening...the Ridges. I was a little disappointed to see by the menu that they had changed owners since our visit in December, and didn't know what to expect, but the food is still prepared by a professional chef/the owner. It was great. Logan, Tyler, and I all had the filet mignon's, Erik had the pork chops, Ginger and Peggy had the best Salmon they had ever tasted (their words), Shelby had shrimp fettuccine, and Laura had the baked or grilled chicken. We finished up dinner and exited out the back to go down by the lake we had been on the day before for pictures. A flock of wild geese fed out on the shaded lawn and we had to dodge duck dung with every turn (say that 3 times fast). We finished up Wednesday evening with a few games of rummy...a must every time we're in the mountains.

Thursday morning arrived and I'm starting to get a little sad being we'll have to start toward home in less than 2 days. We ate a lite lunch at the house (remember, the young ones don't get up until half the day is gone) and we all went to the movie, "The Proposal". Whewww, that Ryan Reynolds was a site for sore eyes. After the movie, Shelby, Logan, and I head to the house to relax while the others do a little shopping. I love to shop but have learned to not like it as much being the little shops up there are so full of stuff I can't get my wheelchair around in them...saved me a lot of money too. I made reservations for dinner for all of us at CrossRoads, and we enjoy an evening of laughs around the table as most of us dine on their fresh lemon peppered mountain trout. These people can "do it up" good too. We end our meal with fresh peach cobbler, and apple crisp...all ala-modes. Don't worry, we just got two orders and eight spoons so that we could all share. By now you can see that vacation time is a bad time to diet when you're around our family. Our cupboards are far from bare the day before we leave for home...

Friday has arrived and we head over to Fires Creek, a 20 minute ride around mountains and through the woods. If the name doesn't sound familiar, you may recall the guy that was arrested after the Summer Olympics in Atlanta. This was where he had been hiding out when he was arrested. Deep in the woods, but beautiful ice-cold mountain streams. We stayed for a little while where the "kids" could take a dip. The no-seeum bugs like to have eaten me, Ginger, and Peggy up as we watched them laugh and "bust it" several times on a slippery rock.

Once we got back home from Fires Creek, a few of them head back to the grocery store (once again) for ingredients that will be used in our German meal Laura (& Logan) would prepare for supper this night. I watched them and took note of everything so that I could make this meal again when I got back to Williston. It was 2 baguettes loaves of "tomato bread" made from scratch..yeast and all. Schnitzel, which is a pork cutlet pounded very thin with a special bread crumb batter. Homemade Au Gratin Potatoes, loaded with whipping cream, cheese, etc. and we had fresh asparagus for our green vegetable. Laura even folded our paper dinner napkins, though they didn't want to stand up as well as the linen ones would have.

The dinner/supper was delicious! And it's always nice to have Peggy around, because she has an art to cleaning dishes...and housework period. Honestly, earlier that day I got some cleaning supplies and started dusting my room & cleaning my bathroom...and Peggy is going around literally whistling and humming as she works. She cleans blinds like nobody's business too!

Saturday morning arrives and everyone is stirring around the house, and we leave NC by about 7:30, and arrive around 9:30 at my niece/nephew's new house they moved to in Cummings, GA. We got to visit with Brooke, Wayne, Camden, and Kinsley for about an hour and we're back on the road again. It was good to see family again...Camden's quiet much like his Great Uncle Wes, while Kinsley talks much like her Great Aunt Anneil. Loud and alot (hey Anneil, you know I love you). So...lunch is at Chili's in Stockbridge....then we pull off a little further down the road at Lane's packaging in Ft. Valley for fresh peaches to take home. We were packed to the gill...looking much like the Clampetts from Beverly Hills, CA.

So how do you like my purse my niece, nephews, & German friend picked out for me?

I thought it looked like a cow print, but it's actually giraffe. But, I love it and call it my Swiss Army purse being it has several functions: It holds my junk, and it can be used both as a weapon and bottle opener. Why? You may ask. For one reason, the hardware on this thing is so heavy I could literally knock anyone out with it if they came at me, and the other reason is...we pull into a very crowded convenience store on the way back and while we wait, the kids run inside to get a snack. As we're back on the road everyone is opening their snacks and Tyler got one of the old-fashioned, small-bottled Coke's...and he did not get it opened inside as he should have, so for 10 minutes I was determined to find a way to open it for him. I opened up the glove compartment and tried to use the metal latch that hangs down, but it just barely let a little air & Coke fizz escape onto the CD's, (but I cleaned it up Ginger). Finally, I unlatch the handle on this purse and *bling* the cap pops off!

Well, this is just a snapshot of the fun and relaxing time I had in the mountains with family and friends. It's amazing what refreshment a trip can do for a weary mind, and I thank the Lord for blessing my trip in the way that He did. I've got many memories tucked away in my mind of fun times I've had with friends and my family, especially when my daddy was alive...and this is just one more to add to the archives. Proverbs 3:4 says there's "...a time to weep, and a time to laugh." I had my fill of laughter on this trip...it was a good one indeed.

In closing, each evening in the mountains it's neat to see what kind of sunset God will pull out for us to view from our front porch. I thought this one was especially pretty, and the verse fits it well. "The heavens declare the glory of God; And the firmament shows His handiwork." Psalm 19:1

Daddy Went Home

Death is ugly in that it separates us from those we love. What I write is not meant to be morbid, but to give you a side of death I never imagined would happen this way.

The last Father's Day I was able to spend with my daddy was at a time when he was at his weakest. We had gone to church as usual, only Daddy wasn't there with us, but so weak that he could not get out of the bed on his own. When it came to the time of service we have each year in honor of father's that have gone on, the pictures flashed up on the screen. Somehow I knew this time next year I would be seeing my own father's picture up there. That evening we were all up at the house visiting daddy and we begged him to go sit in the swing under the shade tree (thinking that getting outside in the fresh air would make him feel a little better). I had an extra wheelchair and with the help of my mama & siblings, we got him outside which lasted about 10 minutes. You could tell by the look on his face he was doing this just for us, and not because he felt like sitting out there. It wasn't long before we got him back inside. A couple weeks later as friends and family started making their way in to see him possibly for their last time, he commented to someone, "I wish I could feel good just one more time. I'd love to be able to go outside".

He got his wish on Friday, June 29th when during the noon hour all of us kids were up at the house and they put him in a wheelchair and took him out onto the front porch. He had a different look in his eyes as he looked out over his garden that was now just about overtaken with weeds. He started this garden early in the spring when he still had a little energy and strength left in him. Working in the garden was always therapeutic to him. By May when the vegetables started appearing on his vines, he started getting weaker and my siblings took turns watering, hoeing, and picking the vegetables as they started coming in. He would look from the front porch and want so bad to tell them "how to do it right". Daddy for years had been the gardener, we just enjoyed the fruits of his labor...and labor it was. I guess we sort of took it for granted all those years, but he loved to be able to grow it and give a lot of it away to his children, grandchildren, and friends....and he loved to eat it too!

He was now taking what I guess he figured to be his last glance at the home place he had lived for 68 years of his 73 years of life. He didn't have much to say and within a few minutes, he was ready to go back inside. Within just a matter of hours, most all of the family (children & grandchildren) had all gathered around his bedside to spend whatever hours or days we had left with him. Other than both sets of my grandparents, we had never lost an immediate family member to death. As we sat around his bed, Daddy looked at us and with barely a whisper said, "Let's talk about heaven". So for the next few hours we talked, laughed, and cried around his bedside. He assured us he was "doubly at peace" and looking around at all of the grandchildren said, "I want to see everyone of you in heaven, you know what it takes to get there".

We had been praying for several years now for God to heal him of this cancer, but so far He hadn't. However, there were other prayers being answered that were just as important. For someone to have a major organ consumed with tumors and not be in any pain without the aid of medication was a miracle in itself.

We kissed him goodnight and us 5 children slept there at the house that night. Me in my bedroom, Pam and Anneil in one room, Ginger slept in the the family room, and Wes slept in the living room...with the aid of 2 loud box fans blowing "wide open". He told someone years ago his house was so loud at night, it sounded like airplanes coming down the hallway. Saturday was about the same as far as the family gathering back around in his room, only he slept a little more, and when he wasn't asleep, he talked a lot less. By nightfall, his words were few and far between, but he kept his sense of humor when after several hours of silence on his part, he opened his eyes and said, "I hope you're all enjoying staring at me". We kissed him goodnight again, and everyone went to bed with the aid of the 2 box fans.

Daddy made it through another night and by sunrise Sunday morning, things started to change even more. When we went in to see him, he had a far away glassy-look in his eyes. He had stopped talking and was now in a comatose-like state. By that evening and still in NO pain, one by one each family member got to go in privately and tell him whatever we wanted to say to him. He couldn't speak, but we were told he more-than-likely could hear us. I rubbed his frail arm and told him how much I loved him, and that he had been the best daddy I could have ever asked for. A few more hours passed and it was now bedtime. We kissed him goodnight, and everyone stayed and went to their beds once again. Before we shut the last light out, Mama turned on the box fans.

Over the past 4 - 5 years, I had seen my father go from a man with an abundance of energy and speech, to a thin extremely weak man with no words coming from his mouth...a difficult thing to watch. His breathing movements were the only movements being made now.

A little after midnight on Monday morning, Daddy had become a little more restless, but Mama had insisted on laying there beside him...she was fulfilling her marriage vows, "In sickness and in health, till death do us part". Around 2:00 some unexplainable things started taking place...according to what my sister Anneil said. She jumped up out of the bed and my sister Pam got up right behind her. Quickly they ran to my parents room to find them both asleep. When they got back to their room and into bed, Pam asked her why she had jumped up as she did and Anneil said, "Someone came to the side of my bed and said, 'Get up!' And I did. I kept hearing these "swishing" air-noises like, "shewww" and didn't know what to make of it". (All I had heard the last few nights were the box fans as I slept with my door shut.) Pam was taking all of this in when she gave out a sigh like, "Shewww" and Anneil said, "That's it! That's what it sounds like!" Pam began wondering, "Do you reckon there could be angels in the room?" Laugh if you will, but the bible speaks of angels as being ministers of God, and also known to escort a righteous person (one who had received salvation) to heaven to be with Him. Luke 16:22 says, Later Lazarus died and the angels carried him to the arms of Abraham. The rich man died too, and was buried. (Quite a distinction) Could this be what they were hearing, the sound of angels? No sooner had they contemplated this thought when the swishing sound startled them both, and Pam heard it herself this time. They lay there frozen not knowing what to think, and within a few minutes they drifted off to sleep. I really don't know myself, but I don't doubt one bit what they were hearing because what happened in the next few minutes gave me no doubt something was taking place.

At around 2:40 or so, the whole entire house awoke to the loudest "whoop!" of a yell that came from my Daddy, and I must say, with ALL that was within him. I get tears in my eyes right now as I think about it. He could barely talk above a whisper that last week or so, but this shout would have scared the dead. My brother Wes came running down the hall, and I jumped up in my bed and started trying to get myself in my chair in a half-asleep stupor, and crying, because I knew this must be it... I knew my Daddy must be dying and I wanted so bad to be in there with him. Mama also had jumped up from the bed crying, while Anneil ran in to console her. As Anneil walked over to Daddy's side of the bed to turn on his bedside lamp, the once weakened body that for the past 24 hours had been in a comatose-like state suddenly sat straight up in the bed on his own and with his eyed wide open as though staring at something, he raised both hands heavenward and gave one last loud "whoop!", then quietly laid back on his pillow. The hands that held us all as babies, that picked us up when we fell or hurt ourselves, that worked and toiled to care for his family, that rolled me many a time in my wheelchair, and that laid his hands on me in prayer, were now still. Daddy crossed the finish line in this race of life and joined the thousands of others that are cheering us on in our race. I can imagine them all saying. "Don't give up and stop running. Don't break the rules and become disqualified. The prize is well worth it".

But as it is written in the scriptures: No one has ever seen this, and no one has ever heard about it. No one has ever imagined what God has prepared for those who love Him". I Corinthians 2:9

Happy Father's Day, Daddy....you are greatly missed!