Overalls

I posted this note last year on this day, my poppa's birthday. Because today would have been his birthday, I wanted to share it again. He was my best friend.

He must have been 10’ tall. It seemed I needed a ladder to climb up and get that pen out of his bib pocket. He made it easy for me, though. He would sit in his chair and let me sit in his lap. He wore a treasure chest…I could play for hours with his paper and pens, and when I got tired of that, I would grab his comb and stand behind him in his chair. I would comb his hair and laugh with him until no end. He was my best friend. Every Sunday afternoon, he came home from church, he would take off his Sunday hat and socks, take his red bone Case knife out of his pocket, change into his Sunday best overalls and get ready to eat lunch. After every meal he would sop Bob White Syrup up with the homemade biscuits that had been prepared for him. Then, he would take his empty coffee cup and run water in it…he would drink it and let out a BIG ahhhhhhhhhh!

We would get in his truck after lunch. Although we had a mission, he never failed to stop at the store and let me spend a whole dollar on candy and a coke. Then, we would drive around to check on his cattle at different locations. He would get out of the truck and walk around, and tell me to drive all over the field. He always drove a Ford, diesel truck and the floorboard was full of junk. His seats were covered with dust from the barn and from the hay that he had spent hours cutting and raking on the tractor.

He was a strong man who I could always count on to be there when I needed him. In 1991, he was diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor. I guess I thought that if anyone could make it, he would. He slept in the den for a couple of months…his face would light up when someone would walk into the room, and he listened to piano music with his headphones. It wasn’t just any piano music, it was his favorite…mine.

When he got sick, a caregiver encouraged me to record my music for him. So, with big tears rolling down my cheeks, I played several of his favorite hymns. He listened to them until the end. At the funeral, they played the recording…I know he was doing his funny little dance in Heaven…I’m sure his comb, and pen and paper to draw his crazy pictures were tucked perfectly in the pockets of his overalls.

Broccoli

My friend, who I will call, Lyla, in order to protect the innocent, is one of the most faithful friends I have ever had. I can talk to her one day, and then, not again for 1 year, and we can pick right up from where we started. However, there was a time when she lived so close to me that we could hang out every day…Oh, the stories I could tell! There were many times when I would take Lyla to the grocery store, and it would hurt me so badly when we would get to the counter and she would have to put items back, because she didn’t have enough money. She was so careful with her spending and if she bought something, she used it!

I was on my way to her house to take her to run one day and while I was driving, I smelled a horrible stench in my car! When I got to her house, I told her, “Lyla, I’m really sorry, but there is a horrible smell in my car. We should probably ride with the windows down (even though it wasn’t warm enough to do so), because I think there MUST be a dead animal in my trunk! Lyla agreed with me! She had not smelled anything that badly in a long time! We drove to the park, with the windows down and our heads hanging out, and then, we stopped by my mom and dad’s on the way back home. Oh, my goodness…I told my dad, “Will you please open my trunk and see what has died in there? I don’t think I can handle it if there is some type of dead animal…” Lyla and I went in the house and talked with my mom. Shortly, my dad came to the door…he was clothed in a huge coat and had put on these great big gloves to check out the trunk. So, here stands this man at the door with these gloves, holding a “Kroger” plastic bag…Lyla exclaimed, “My broccoli.” We laughed and laughed until we cried.

We have shared many experiences together, but I never thought I would share one of the darkest experiences ever. I had been divorced for only a short amount of time when Lyla called me from Florida to tell me she didn’t know what to do. The man she had married many years before had gone one step too far and had threatened her son. She packed up all three of her children and moved back to her parents’ home. I didn’t really know what to say to her. My wounds were so fresh and I didn’t want to let my hurt and bad experience spill over into what I told her. I chose my words carefully.

“Lyla, there is never an excuse to abuse children. I know you have been abused verbally, physically and mentally for a long time, and I don’t believe your children should have to endure it. Only you know when enough is enough. God will sustain you. He will give you what you need. He will not turn His back on you. I will pray for you as you make this decision.”

Months went by, and Lyla decided to file for divorce. She has gone to school and is beginning to make a life for herself and her children. God is faithful. As much as life may stink, sometimes even worse than old broccoli, God’s love spills over a fragrance so fresh and unique.