Tag Archives: Parents

One Day at a Time with Mom and Dad

11 Saturday Jul 2026

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Yesterday I got off to a later start than I had planned. I rolled up to my parents’ house a few minutes before 9:00 a.m. My goal had been to get there by 8:00, but I just couldn’t get moving. By the time I had eaten breakfast and made my second round of coffee, I was already running behind.

When I arrived, I didn’t see my parents’ car. Sometimes they park inside the garage, but most of the time it’s sitting just outside.

I unloaded the lawnmower, which takes a few minutes since it’s on a trailer. Once it was off, I moved it onto the driveway to make a few adjustments to the mower deck and ensure it was level.

Normally, by this point, Dad is already outside with me because his driveway alarm lets him know whenever someone pulls up. Since I hadn’t seen either of them, I figured one of them must have had a doctor’s appointment and had forgotten to tell me.

I started the mower and began cutting the grass. About thirty minutes later, I spotted Dad. Evidently, he had been outside the whole time working somewhere in the backyard. He was soaked with sweat. He had been picking up limbs to clear the way so I could mow the yard.

I immediately stopped the mower and told him he had done enough. I made him go inside where it was cool. I stood there and watched until I saw him walk across the deck and into the house. It was simply too hot for him to be outside doing that kind of work.

I mowed for a little over an hour before taking a break. When I went inside, Dad was sitting on the couch. He had changed shirts, but I could still tell he was overheated from being outside. I fussed at him a little for staying out there long enough to get that hot.

My poor mother was sitting on the other side of the room, bent over from the arthritis pain in her neck. She’s been dealing with that pain for several years now, and it just keeps getting worse. Unfortunately, there’s really nothing that can be done. She’s been rubbing Hemp cream on her neck, and it seems to help for a couple of hours, but the pain always returns.

Seeing my elderly parents in this condition always weighs heavily on my heart because I know the day will eventually come when they won’t be with us anymore.

Mom has been living with one kind of pain or another ever since they were involved in that terrible head-on collision back in 2014. She used to stand nearly six feet tall. Today, she’s barely five feet because of scoliosis and arthritis. She’s so hunched over and in so much pain. She refuses to just sit still. She wants to tend to her flowers and keep the house clean, but she’s reached the point where she simply can’t do those things anymore. Most days she ends up sitting in her recliner in the den, wishing she could still do what she once did.

Dad keeps talking about buying a new lawnmower. The truth is, he doesn’t need another mower because he doesn’t need to be cutting the grass anymore. But he refuses to slow down. He’s always got to be working on something. No one can convince him otherwise.

He’s a smart man. There’s a lifetime of knowledge locked away in that brain of his, and every now and then I still have to make a phone call and dig some of that knowledge out. I’ll definitely miss that someday.

After I finished cutting the grass, we were sitting on the back deck when I told him he didn’t need to worry about buying another mower. I told him I’d be more than happy to come up every couple of weeks and cut the grass for him. He seemed to appreciate that… right up until he asked if he could sit on my mower and drive it around to compare it to his old one. Before long, we were right back to talking about buying a new mower.

After everything was finished, Dad and I sat on the back deck talking for several hours before Mom joined us. A cool breeze had started blowing, making it comfortable enough to just sit and enjoy each other’s company.

We talked about life and the choices we’ve made over the years. We talked about my kids and the possibility of grandchildren someday since two of my three children are talking about getting married.

Mom quietly said she hopes she’ll still be around when my children become parents, but she isn’t sure that will happen.

To be honest, I have my doubts too.

But I’m still praying we’re both wrong.

Rolling With the Punches

09 Thursday Jul 2026

Posted by in Life, Uncategorized

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It’s been a few days since my last post, and it’s been a busy few days.

You never realize how much you depend on something until you suddenly don’t have it. Since my wife’s car is still with my daughter, we’re down to just one vehicle. That means choices have to be made, schedules have to be adjusted, and everything takes a little more planning. My daughter is still looking for another car, but she’s waiting on the insurance check before she can buy one.

On top of that, life doesn’t slow down. I’m going to physical therapy for my back twice a week, and my wife has therapy once a week. This coming week I also have two doctor’s appointments, and my wife has an appointment on the very same day. I think we’ve worked out the logistics, but if one appointment runs long, it could throw our whole schedule into chaos.

Today was my second physical therapy appointment. Unfortunately, I had already spent part of yesterday doing yard work, so I was pretty sore before I even walked through the door. After an hour of stretching and exercises, I’m even more sore now. The therapist warned me that I’d probably feel it for a couple of days because we stretched muscles that haven’t been worked like that in a while. My next appointment is Monday morning.

Tomorrow I’ll be heading back to my parents’ house to cut their grass again. I’ve already loaded my mower and weed trimmer onto the trailer. Last week I didn’t have time to do any trimming, so it’s really needed now. The biggest question is how my back is going to handle sitting on the mower for four hours. It may take me longer than usual because I’ll be stopping often to stretch and give my back a break. I’d rather take my time than pay for it later.

Speaking of my mower…

It’s about four years old. After I finished mowing my own yard yesterday, I drove it over to my outdoor hydrant to wash off all the grass clippings. I do that every single time I use it. I think it looks better when it’s clean, and maybe—just maybe—it’ll help it last a little longer.

When I finished spraying it off, I climbed back on, turned the key…and absolutely nothing happened.

For the next hour, I started troubleshooting everything I could think of. Eventually, I convinced myself the starter had gone bad. I began pricing replacement starters and quickly discovered they aren’t cheap. I finally found an aftermarket one that appeared to fit my mower, but something kept nagging at me.

“What if it’s not the starter?”

I’ve been down that road before—buying parts I didn’t actually need. I’d hate to spend the money, wait for the part to arrive, install it, and discover the mower still wouldn’t start.

So I called my dad.

He suggested I try one more thing before ordering a starter. I’m glad I listened.

Earlier in my troubleshooting, I had tried jump-starting the mower with my jump box, thinking the battery might be weak. It still wouldn’t even try to turn over. I checked the battery with my meter, and it showed what appeared to be enough voltage, so I ruled it out. Just to be safe, I put it on the charger while I went inside for lunch.

After lunch, I spent a few hours doing other things around the yard before checking it again.

Surprisingly, the battery voltage had actually dropped even lower than it was before I put it on the charger.

Well, there was my answer.

The starter was fine after all—it was the battery.

That meant another trip to the auto parts store for a new battery. While I’m certainly glad it wasn’t the starter, I still wasn’t thrilled about spending money on a battery that I hadn’t planned on buying.

Sometimes life has a funny way of piling things on all at once. Between juggling one vehicle, therapy appointments, doctor’s visits, back pain, cutting my parents’ grass, and now replacing a mower battery, it has definitely been one of those weeks.

Hopefully next week will be just a little less eventful…but somehow I doubt it.

Church Etiquette. Is There Such a Thing?

22 Monday Jun 2026

Posted by in Family, Uncategorized, University of Alabama

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As I mentioned in my last post, the church I attend is large with a seating capacity of around 2,500 people. I’ve been going to church on and off my entire life, and before coming here about three years ago, the largest church I had ever attended had maybe 100 members.

I absolutely love this church. One of the things I enjoy most is that there is always something going on. Case in point: our Vacation Bible School was held a couple of weeks ago and drew more than 1,500 kids. This church simply doesn’t do anything small.

However, attending a church this large does have its challenges.

I call them “Church Etiquette.”

This post will undoubtedly spark some debate, and it may even convince some people that I’m petty. That’s okay. It’s my blog and my opinion.

As I mentioned in my previous post, Sunday was my pastor’s final sermon after serving our church for forty years. It was a bittersweet day for thousands of people. Unfortunately, I had a difficult time enjoying the sermon because of several distractions that could have easily been avoided if people simply knew how to behave during a church service.

Distraction #1: Not Showing Reverence

It is my opinion that once the service begins, people should be reverent and avoid carrying on conversations.

Now, don’t get me wrong. If you want to say “Amen” when the pastor makes a good point, then by all means, let it fly. But discussing where you’re going to eat lunch afterward or making comments about how someone is dressed is completely different and uncalled for.

This was happening with a mother and her teenage son sitting directly in front of me. To make matters worse, because they couldn’t hear each other during the music, they simply talked louder.

And they did it throughout the entire service.

Maybe they don’t attend church very often. I don’t know. That’s just my opinion.

Distraction #2: Personal Space

What exactly is personal space, and how far does it extend?

According to Google, personal space is the invisible physical or psychological boundary surrounding an individual. People instinctively maintain this “bubble” because it helps them feel secure. When someone invades that space, it often creates discomfort.

I’m a firm believer that if someone wants to wear perfume or cologne, that’s entirely their business.

However, I draw the line when it invades my personal space.

If I can smell you from three to five feet away before I even see you, you’re probably wearing too much.

If you feel the need to bathe in perfume or cologne, perhaps a few extra minutes in the shower would be a better solution. Or maybe it’s time to switch soap brands.

A lady arrived late and squeezed into the same row as my wife and me, along with several of her friends. How all of them managed to find seats together remains a mystery.

Thankfully, there was one empty seat between us.

Unfortunately, her perfume was strong enough that the empty seat only reduced the impact by about ten percent.

I was still getting ninety percent of the experience.

Distraction #3: Parenting Skills

When I was growing up, we didn’t have Children’s Church. We sat with our parents in the “big church.”

We were expected to sit quietly, pay attention, and behave ourselves. If we didn’t, there would be consequences when we got home.

Believe me, we were as quiet as church mice because we knew exactly what awaited us if we embarrassed our parents.

Kids today seem to have a different arrangement.

Our church has theater-style seating instead of traditional pews. They’re comfortable, modern, and a lot easier on the back.

Unfortunately, they also make excellent drums.

A family sat behind us with a little girl who, for whatever reason, wasn’t in Children’s Church with the other kids her age. Her parents had given her something to keep her occupied, probably a coloring book.

Every so often, I could hear her mother telling her what color to use.

But coloring wasn’t the only activity taking place.

The little girl apparently decided that the back of my chair was part of the entertainment package.

Throughout the service, she repeatedly punched, kicked, bumped, or otherwise made contact with my seat.

Normally, this would just be annoying.

However, with the back problems I’ve been dealing with lately, every thump felt like a personal attack from a very small boxer.

Had that been me as a child, one look from either of my parents would have ended the behavior immediately.

If it continued, I would have found myself outside receiving a lesson in proper church etiquette.

I suspect most people my age know exactly what that means.

The Great Sunday Traffic Jam

Now the service is over.

Surely everyone wants to go home, eat lunch, and beat the Baptist crowd to the restaurant.

Apparently not.

Every Sunday without fail, people stop directly in the middle of the aisle to carry on conversations while everyone else is trying to leave.

My wife and I often find ourselves standing there waiting for people to realize they have created a human roadblock.

If you see someone you haven’t talked to in a while, that’s great. Say hello.

But maybe step to the side first.

The same thing happens once you get outside.

People stop right in the middle of the sidewalk and carry on conversations while everyone else has to maneuver around them like they’re driving through a construction zone.

I’ve threatened to make comments such as, “Move along,” or “If you’re going to talk, pull over to the shoulder.”

My wife has strongly encouraged me not to.

Apparently, though, I’m not alone.

Last week, I overheard a lady say, “Move along. Don’t stop to talk.”

It didn’t work.

But I bet she felt better afterward.

Stepping Off the Soap Box

Well, that’s enough complaining for one day.

Despite everything I’ve written, I truly love my church. The people are wonderful, the ministries are amazing, and the impact this church has on the community is incredible.

No church is perfect because no group of people is perfect. If it was perfect, it no longer is because I’m going there. After all, I’m not perfect.

These are simply a few observations from someone sitting in the congregation who occasionally gets distracted.

You don’t have to agree with me.

You don’t have to disagree with me.

Right or wrong, it’s my blog and my opinion.

I know nothing will change because I wrote any of this down, but sometimes it feels good just to vent.

Thanks for listening while I stood on my soapbox for a few minutes.

Another Year, Another Blessing

21 Sunday Jun 2026

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Happy Father’s Day! I hope all you dads had a great day.

My family and I spent the first part of our day at church, where our pastor of 40 years preached his final sermon. It was a bittersweet day for thousands of people. Yes, I said thousands. The sanctuary seats 2,500 people, and during the first service, people stood along the walls and filled the overflow chapel.

After church, we came home and had lunch together. I was able to celebrate Father’s Day with all of my children, and I couldn’t have been a happier dad.

After lunch, we loaded up and drove to my parents’ house to celebrate with my dad. Today was not only Father’s Day, but also his birthday. He is now 87 years old and is the last surviving member of his family of four siblings.

For his age, Dad is in remarkably good health. He still gets outside and works in his yard and tinkers with his farming equipment, even though he doesn’t do much farming these days.

We nearly lost both of my parents in 2014 when a woman who wasn’t paying attention crossed the center line on a dangerous curve and hit them head-on. Both of my parents spent several weeks in the ICU. After they were released from the hospital, they stayed with my brother and his wife for several months while continuing their recovery and medical treatments.

Mom never fully recovered from the accident. She still struggles with significant back problems, and Dad has balance issues caused by damage to his inner ear.

They both suffered serious injuries from the seat belts and airbags. While those safety features undoubtedly saved their lives, they can also cause severe injuries during a major collision.

I consider myself incredibly fortunate to still have both of my parents with us. At their age, I know every visit, every conversation, and every holiday together is a gift. I don’t know how much longer I’ll have them around, but I intend to treasure every day that I do.

Days like today are a reminder that family is one of God’s greatest blessings, and I’m thankful for every moment we get to spend together.

When Plans Change, and Priorities Don’t

02 Saturday May 2026

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There comes a time in your life when you realize things don’t always go according to plan. Life has a way of stepping in, throwing a wrench into your day, and reminding you that some things matter more than whatever you had written on your to-do list.

I’m not sure if I’m making myself clear, but let me try to explain.

Growing up, my parents were the kind of people who would drop everything to help their kids. It didn’t matter what they had going on, how they felt, or what time it was—if we needed them, they were there.

My dad worked evening and late shifts most of my childhood, so I didn’t see him much during the week. He spent most of his days sleeping so he could work through the night. But even then, if I needed him, he showed up. The same goes for my mom. Between the two of them, there was never a moment when I felt like I had to figure things out alone.

Well… now it’s my turn.

Today wasn’t exactly a great day for me physically. When I woke up at 5:30 this morning, my back pain was already making its presence known. I rolled over and went back to sleep, hoping for some relief. By 9:30, I had no choice but to get up—and it hurt. A lot.

I had taken a pain pill the night before, which is probably the only reason I slept that long. After getting dressed and making some coffee, I sat down to start my morning devotion. That’s when my dad called.

His brand-new HVAC unit wasn’t working. The thermostat was completely blank. No heat, no air—nothing.

On a pain scale, I was sitting at a solid 8. I seriously considered taking another pain pill after breakfast, but I knew that if I did, I wouldn’t be in any condition to drive. And at that moment, my dad needed help.

So I skipped the pill.

I scarfed down a bowl of cereal, grabbed what tools I thought I’d need, and headed out the door. I called my wife as I pulled onto the main road to let her know what was going on.

When I got there, the first thing I checked was the thermostat… and of course, it was working perfectly. Lit up, responsive, doing exactly what it was supposed to do. I switched it to cool—worked fine. Switched it to heat—no problem.

You can’t fix what isn’t broken… at least not right away.

After some troubleshooting, I narrowed it down to a possible issue with the condensate pump—one of the few things that could interrupt power to the low-voltage system.

Sure enough, the pump was full of buildup from years of use. I disconnected it and took it to the sink to clean it out.

That’s when things got interesting.

As I was reconnecting the wiring, one of the low-voltage wires brushed against the unit… and sparks flew.

If there wasn’t a problem before, there definitely was now.

I had officially upgraded the situation from “simple service call” to “well… that escalated quickly.”

Now the real fun began—finding that fuse.

There was a resettable fuse on the transformer, but it hadn’t tripped. Which meant one thing: somewhere inside that unit was a tiny little 3-amp fuse… hiding… laughing… probably calling its fuse friends to come watch.

And let me tell you, whoever designed that unit clearly never had to actually work on it.

This thing was tucked behind the control board in a spot that required either:

  1. Much smaller hands
  2. A double-jointed wrist
  3. Or a strong prayer life

I tried reaching it from one angle—nope. Another angle—still nope. At one point, I’m pretty sure I invented two brand-new yoga poses that will never make it into a class.

After what felt like an episode of “HVAC: Mission Impossible”, I finally laid eyes on it.

Victory… briefly.

Because of course… I didn’t have a spare.

Naturally.

So off I went to the auto parts store, where I got to buy an entire assortment pack of fuses—ranging from “barely useful” to “I may never need this in my lifetime”—just to get that one tiny 3-amp fuse.

But hey, if anyone within a 5-mile radius blows a fuse anytime soon, I’m officially their guy.

Before putting the new fuse in, I double-checked everything to make sure I hadn’t accidentally created a bigger problem (because at this point, that felt like a real possibility).

Once I was confident, I slid the fuse into place…

And just like that—it worked.

Like nothing had ever happened.

By this point, my back was absolutely screaming. There was no time for small talk or hanging around. I packed up my tools, said my goodbyes, and made my way back home—straight to my recliner.

I did what needed to be done.

I pushed through the pain because that’s exactly what my parents would have done for me.

Funny how life comes full circle like that.

Tomorrow’s Bible study has been canceled since everyone’s out of town, so I’ll be taking that as a sign to rest.

And hopefully… just hopefully… the phone stays quiet.

A Doorbell Camera and a Second Chance With My Dad

12 Thursday Feb 2026

Posted by in Family, Life, Photography, Uncategorized

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A sunset through the windshield of my truck on my way home from installing the doorbell camera.

Today I had the privilege of spending most of the afternoon with my parents. Both of them are in their mid-eighties and, overall, are doing well. Mom has some health issues and deals with a lot of pain from arthritis and scoliosis. A woman who once stood nearly six feet tall is now just over five feet because she’s so hunched over. Dad is also hunched over some, but not from scoliosis — it’s from injuries sustained in a head-on collision they were both involved in back in 2016. I count it as a blessing every day that they are both still here after that accident.

Dad’s tremors are so bad now that he can’t sign his name anymore. If legal documents need to be signed, he either has me sign for him or uses a rubber stamp with his signature on it. He still eats with regular utensils, but you can tell it’s a struggle.

He called me last week because he bought a doorbell camera and needed help installing it. Today was the first day I’ve had without doctor appointments or other commitments that were hard to move on short notice.

My parents live about 45 minutes away. It’s really not that far, and honestly, I should visit more often — especially now.

When I got there, Dad was outside trying to remove the old doorbell. He was struggling because he didn’t have the right size screwdriver, and with his tremors… well, even with the right tool, it would have been tough.

After I got the old one off, we went inside, and he handed me the unopened box with the new camera. He told me it was supposed to use the existing doorbell wiring for power. I kept that in mind while reading the manual.

The problem was that nowhere in the manual did it mention using the existing wiring. What I was reading and what this 86-year-old man was telling me were two completely different things.

Let me pause and tell you something about my dad. He is never wrong. Or maybe more accurately… he never admits to being wrong. And he really doesn’t like being told he is. So installing this camera took a lot longer than it should have, mostly because I had to carefully explain that what he thought and what the manual said were not the same thing — without actually saying, “Dad, you’re wrong.”

I have a Ring doorbell at my house. Installing mine took about 30 minutes total — removing the old one, installing the new one, connecting Wi-Fi, and setting up the app. Thirty minutes, tops.

Today? It took from 11:30 AM until just after 4 PM to install the doorbell, set up and configure the app, connect the monitor to Wi-Fi, mount the monitor on the wall, and then teach Dad how to use everything. Between learning the system myself and teaching him step by step, it was a process.

I’m not sure if I should be embarrassed it took that long… or proud I got it done that fast, considering everything involved.

Growing up, Dad and I didn’t get along very well. The older I got, the worse it seemed to get. We were both hard-headed, both quick-tempered, and we yelled a lot. I never felt like I could please him. We fought often, and honestly, I was glad when the day came that I could move out.

But now I’m older. I have kids of my own. I’ve lived some life. And our relationship is better than it’s ever been.

I’m the oldest of four — two younger brothers and a baby sister. I don’t live the closest, but I’m probably the most mechanically inclined. I can turn a wrench. The others are more keyboard-and-screen guys. So when something physical or mechanical needs to be done, I usually get the call.

And honestly? I don’t mind anymore.

It gives me time with them. Real-time. Time I know is limited. It feels like I’ve been given a second chance with my dad.

It’s still not always easy. Telling him he’s wrong without telling him he’s wrong is an art form that requires patience and diplomacy.

When I left today, the doorbell was working, the monitor was mounted, and both he and Mom were thankful I came. As I was walking out, Dad said he didn’t think he could have done it himself because it was more complicated than he expected.

And truthfully, some of these modern devices are just more complicated than they need to be.

But today wasn’t really about installing a doorbell camera.

It was about time.
It was about patience.
It was about grace.

Because one day, there will be no phone call asking for help installing something.
One day, there will be no slow walk to the door to greet me.
One day, there will be no tremor-shaken hands trying to turn a screwdriver.

And when that day comes, I won’t remember how long it took to install that camera.
I’ll remember standing next to my dad.
I’ll remember my mom sitting nearby, hurting but smiling.
I’ll remember being needed.

If you’re lucky enough to still have your parents here, go see them.
Take the phone call.
Fix the thing.
Explain the manual.
Be patient.

Because sometimes second chances don’t come as big life moments.

Sometimes they show up as a five-hour doorbell installation on a random afternoon…
And you don’t realize how important it was until you’re driving home.

Time Doesn’t Stand Still

22 Wednesday Oct 2025

Posted by in Cancer, Depression, Family, Leukemia

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The older I get, the more I realize that time doesn’t stand still. It seems like almost every week I hear about someone I used to go to school with or work with who has passed away. Just the thought of it can be depressing.

This past Saturday, I did a craft fair and happened to run into one of my high school classmates and her sister. We had a chance to catch up for a bit, and somehow the conversation turned to the classmates we’ve already lost. Sadly, cancer seems to have claimed most of them.

I’m 62 now — older than many of my classmates since I was held back a year — and although my health hasn’t always been the best, I count myself lucky to still be here.

Most of my classmates already have great-grandkids. Me? None of my three kids are married yet, so I’m not even a grandparent. Only one of the three is dating anyone right now, and I’m not sure when or if the other two will. That’s okay, though. I don’t ever want them to feel pressured. Still, before I go, I’d love to see all my kids married and maybe even get the chance to hold a grandbaby or two.

My parents, who are both in their mid to upper eighties, would love to see great-grandkids too. I have to remind my mom not to put pressure on my kids — she has a way of speaking her mind about things like that.

As I’ve mentioned before, I have a form of leukemia called CML. Right now, it’s under control. Sometimes one of the markers the doctors watch goes a little wild and sends everyone into a panic, but eventually, the numbers settle back down, and all is well again. I’ve come to accept that nothing I do can change the fact that I have CML. All I can do is take my daily pill, stay consistent, and be thankful that the medicine is working. Worrying won’t change the outcome.

Are you the worrying type? What’s the main thing that weighs on your mind — your kids, your health, your future, or something else? I get my worrying honestly; my grandmother on my mom’s side was a worrier, and my mom’s the same way. I guess it just runs in the family.

Improving? Not so Much.

28 Sunday Aug 2016

Posted by in Cancer, Family, Leukemia, Photography

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I started back on my CML meds last Monday and to be honest I think my breathing has gotten a little worse. I’ve started climbing the steps at work a little more and trying to maintain at least 10,000 steps in a day. I spoke at length to my oncologist last Monday the day I started back on my Sprycell and he told me that the majority of the people who end up with water retention will do better at a lower dosage.  I’m now at 80 mg instead of the 100mg that I was once on.

I’ve decided not to just sit at home waiting to see if my lungs will fill back up with fluid.  I don’t really feel like getting out and doing anything but I feel that I’ve at least got to try  and get what little exercise that I can get.  I think it could only help matters if I get off the couch and do something.

Yesterday, my wife and I met our son at the university where my daughters are attending.  They’re both in the band, one plays the sax and the other is a band manager.  Yesterday was their parent preview show.  It was awesome seeing my daughter’s perform. I got to meet one of their roommates and enjoyed going out to dinner afterwards.  As usual it was hard for us to leave after visiting with them.

Today I went to my parents house to check on them as well as my bees.  It’s been at least two months since I’ve done either one.  The bee yard was grown up with weeds and it took everything I had to use my weedeater to chop down the weeds just so I could get to the beehive.  After about an hour of cleaning up I went and sat with my parents for a couple of hours.

It was hard to leave my parents. They are both getting up in age and their health is not as good as it used to be.  My mom had to have more surgery a couple of weeks ago on her diaphragm due to finding a hole where her colon and her intestine were coming through.  The doctors seem to think that this was caused by the accident they had back in February.

The above picture is of the band managers.  The young lady is my daughter.  What a  trooper.

365 Day Photo Challenge 248/365 “What We Will Do For Our Kids”

03 Thursday Sep 2015

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My son, who is in the Million Dollar Band, leaves in the morning heading to Dallas Texas.  The buses load at 4 am in the morning. This is his fifth year playing for the University of Alabama and he’s used to getting up early to load the buses to head out on long trips but not this early.  He told me this morning that he will be getting up at 3am to get ready so he can get to the buses early.  He like to get there early to get a good seat on the bus.  Band members who are late pay hell and get reprimanded for not being on time.  I remember a couple of years ago a young lady overslept and by the time she got to where the busses were parked the bus had already left.  She and her roommate drove for nearly an hour to flag down the bus for her to load it.  The band director was not pleased and said “Never again will the busses stop for a student that is late.  He/she will simply not make the trip and receive not only a reprimand but will be forced to sit out the next performance.” So with that said, I will be doing my parental duty by setting my alarm clock for 3 am so that I can call my son so that I know he is up and getting ready so he won’t be late.  After all, he is one of the section leaders for his section and I would really hate for him to start the season showing a bad example to his section.  I just hope I can go back to sleep after I make the phone call.  He can sleep on the bus.  My boss would probably frown on me taking a nap while at work.

“Life Goes On!”

Life Does Have a Purpose

14 Sunday Sep 2014

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Life has been busy and full of activities.  Work still sucks but I only have 3 yrs 11 months and 15 days left before I can retire at 55.  But who’s counting?

My health hasn’t changed much.  My eyesight has not improved much and I’m still taking ejections every month.  My CML is still not under control yet but I’m hopping that by my next doctor’s visit that will change.  When I was diagnosed my levels were at 138%.  At my last visit two months ago it had dropped to .73%.  0% is where it needs to be.  My next visit will be this Tuesday so I’m hopping for the best.

I turned 51 one month ago tomorrow.  For my birthday my son gave me two sets of tickets to a couple of Alabama games.  What is so special about this is that my son plays for the Million Dollar Band.  He is a senior this year and we have not been to a game with ticket prices being as high as they are we just couldn’t afford for the rest of the family to go.

My wife and one of my daughters went to a wedding while my parents, my other daughter and I went to the game.  Needless to say getting to our seats was an adventure within itself. Both my parents are in their early to mid 70’s.  The tickets we had were in the highest portion of the stadium that you could be.  I was really worried for my mom who has trouble walking long distances.  Once we finally made it to our seats we all had a great time watching the game as well as watching our son march on the field.  Couldn’t see him but I know he was down there somewhere.

As l’m going through the pictures of yesterday, I am reminded that life moves quickly.  It seems just like yesterday that my son and I was playing catch in our back yard.  Now I’m seeing him in full uniform marching in a college band.  Where does the time go.  I took a picture of my parents with my son and daughter.  As I’m sitting here in front of the computer editing the picture I realize that life does have a purpose.  My parents had a purpose raising me and now it’s my turn to raise my kids.  I think my parents did an outstanding job with me and I’m hopping I’m doing the same with my kids.  So far no arrest records have been made on either of my kids so apparently I’m doing a fair job.