Worms. Wyatt. A dog-chewed mini shovel and a great spring day! That was today – the Lord’s day…..we went to church and had a great day. I played some ultimate frisbee with some friends and then came home to hang out with my family. This evening was awesome. A great meal….the boys playing outside, chicken on the grill and my neighbors outside in their yards and walking down the street. I guess we could make a movie about today and tonight.
This is a shot of Wyatt digging in the dirt to find worms – he found probably thirty of them and took them “to new homes” (probably their new route to a dry death!) instead of saving them to go fishing which was my suggestion.
We got ready for bed and then sat on our front porch sitting in a rocking chair together. I used to sit on our front porch at an old farm house growing up. We stared off into the sunset and pastures…and a huge old Magnolia tree that is still standing today. Our house was built in 1865. We lived on borrowed land with about 465 acres to roam; three springs, two ponds and a lot of woods, two barns, a few horses and bunches of fun. I remember sitting on the old wooden porch with my dad and talking about life before retiring for the night. Those were good times. Old house. Old times. Old memories. Somehow, I wonder if my son’s memories will add up to mine – but maybe they don’t compare….maybe it’s not fair for me to think his memories could or should compare to mine – because I AM his daddy and no matter where we are – that’s the cool thing…that we are spending time together rocking on a rocking chair and telling stories.
I have been told I have what we now affectionately refer to as “Ogleisms” as a general lingo in life. For so much of my life people would laugh or have odd gazes at my sayings and wonder where did he come up with that! I would always in a proud manner confess it was my dad that I got that ridiculous statement from. It was always good, always fresh and random. It was like word gifts to a dead language – it would just bring life in a unique way. One time my mom told me how she missed my dad – they split when I was little – how she missed going out with him and if there were one thing that she wished she could still have it would be his dance moves, his social and intentional personality with people around him. Mainly, she wanted to dance….and her husband, my Step-dad was and is not a dancer. My mom is now with Jesus. A few years before her death she had her lower right leg amputated. I remember dancing with my mom at my wedding….it was something I’ll never forget and would never trade for anything. It was sweet and powerful. My hope is that my sons carry a legacy that my parents have given me. I love talking about my dad. Love it! I love talking to high school guys I hang out with as their YL leader about their dads and how my dad and I were and are…and how God loves them as Heavenly Father infinitely greater than they can fathom.
So, here’s to digging worms, a ratty back yard in progress to special, an old sand turtle box, a front porch rocking chair, a bed time story about Abraham and Isaac and the Father’s love, my dad, my mom, my wife and my family. It is good and sweet.
Let’s go enjoy it.
Blessings,
-ao
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