I Remember Daddy.... Part 4

This is forth in a series of friends’ fond memories of their dads and the lessons that they learned from them. I hope that you have enjoyed them as much as i have enjoyed collecting them...(see Part 1, Part 2, Part 3.  Happy Father's Day.  bd

JED reminisced, “Several memories come to mind.  As far as I know, dad never played organized sports of any kind and yet he would throw the baseball with me when I played Little League.  Looking back, I realize that you don’t have to be good at something, or even like it, to take an interest in what your kids are doing.  I guess that’s why I try to go hunting with my son as much as possible even though he’s way more excited about it than I am."

  

"I also remember a time when dad went in half on a boat with me.  It was more like 30/70 because I paid $250 for the motor and dad paid $600 for the boat.  He was not an avid fisherman, but I can remember many fun-filled trips to Lake Juliette, even though we didn’t catch very many fish.  Lastly, I remember one fishing trip when I told dad I knew a short cut off Hwy 96 down a dirt roads.  I got turned around and the next thing I know, dad got the old 78 Toyota truck stuck in a mud hole.  We tried everything we could to get that truck out, to no avail.  I never once saw my dad get angry nor did he blame me for getting him lost.  We simply walked until we found some loggers who were kind enough to drive back to our truck and pull us out with a skidder.”

MBR remembered, “When I think back on my childhood the memories that stand out for me is when my Dad was saved. The complete transformation from a drunk and a chain smoker to a man who went to every service he could find and he prayed all the time. He never drank or smoked again after that week. I knew without a doubt then that there was indeed power in the blood of Jesus. Then I remember my grandpa and grandma always prayed for my dad. When I doubt what God can do in my situations I have proof of the power of prayer and of what mighty things God is willing to do for me!”

“We would go by for a visit and we could not carry on a normal conversation, but when someone began to talk about church or the Lord, his eyes would light up and he would raise his voice.  I could understand him then.  The tears flowing from his eyes let me know what he was feeling in his heart.”

JMH said, “Wow! I have so many memories of my Daddy. We were very close. One special memory is of just the two of us getting up before dawn on Saturday mornings. I would “help” him hitch up his fishing boat, load up our gear, and pack stuff for lunch. (Always sardines and white bread just in case we didn’t catch anything big enough to eat.)”

“We’d sit in that boat for hours on end. He’d try to pull up close to a shoreline under some trees whenever possible – after he rattled the branches with the oar to be sure no snakes were napping on them.”

“About noon we would pull into shore. He would build a fire, take out his trusty iron skillet, jar of cornmeal mix and a jar of cooking oil. He’d clean the fish and fry them and hush puppies over the open fire. I can remember watching them fry with anticipation (and hunger). Those fish always tasted better than fish we fried at home somehow.”

“I learned soooo much from my Daddy. Integrity for sure: keep your word no matter what, always tell the truth, always be honest in dealing with other people, do your duty, make hard choices based on right and wrong – not emotions, take care of your family, trust and obey God even when it is hard.”

BTL told me, “I feel that the greatest thing that my dad did for me was to teach me about Jesus. I remember going back to the area where he grew up as a child and experiencing swimming in the springs that he swam in as a child.  I cherish having gone with my dad to visit and pray for the sick, as a very small child. My dad taught me to give my tithe to the Lord, be honest, treat others the way I would want to be treated, and to work hard to provide for my family.  I learned how to fish, change a tire, and yard work from him.” 

“My dad was a very humble person.  He was a great pastor, and he was my best friend”

Until this morning, I had intended to not add my own thoughts since my father died when I was two.  I don't really remember my  Dad.  This morning I am reminded of two things about my Dad.  When his mother died, he spent many years paying off the family debts.  He did this not just because he would inherit the family farm by doing so, but to protect the family name.  The second thing is that he made preparations for his wife and sons in case anything ever happened to him, they would all be protected. 

I hope you have a wonderful Father's Day.  If you still have him, give him a call or go see him.  Feel free to post a fond memory of your dad in the comments 

I Remember Daddy....... Part 3

This is third in a series of friends’ fond memories of their dads and the lessons that they learned from them. Past 1, Part 2   Bill

EPM wrote, “When I think of my daddy, I really don't have one vivid story to recall that sums up in a nutshell the person he is.  Daddy is not known for his dynamic personality or his way with words.  He's always been a man of few words who loved his family, the outdoors and his church.  Two words that he always uses to describe me became my official title whenever he saw me. I am his "sweet baby".  Since I was a little girl, that is what he called me and he still refers to me that way.” 

“I must admit, as an elementary aged child I would sometimes get embarrassed when he would call me that In front of my friends.  On one particular occasion when I was in the second grade, mama told me she was coming to get me early because we were going out of town.  When I realized daddy was also going, I asked if he could come to my class to get me so all my friends could see my daddy.  All the children knew mama because she was always a grade mother, but not everyone knew my daddy and I wanted them to see how wonderful he was!  Well, in those days parents could just come to the classroom to get their children and it just so happened that my teacher was our neighbor, so she welcomed daddy in and introduced him to the entire class.  It was at that point that those two words came out of his mouth, right there in front of about twenty or so of my classmates when he said, "Well, thank you Mrs. Meadows (my teacher).  Come on Sweet Baby, we better get going." 

“My classmates giggled and I was mortified......mama said she could tell as we walked down the sidewalk toward the car, that something was wrong by the way my ponytail was swinging from side to side as I stomped towards her.  I told her what had happened and she assured me that everyone's daddy called them something like that and no harm had been done.  I wasn't so sure, though......I do believe I remember a couple of those pesky little boys in my class calling me that a time or two after the incident.”

“Today nothing has changed.  That sweet, sweet daddy of mine still greets me the same way, although I do believe now some precious grandchildren of his might hold their own title in his heart.  Sweet Baby; it is a title I adore now. Funny how wisdom comes with age.”

LCH wrote, “When I was in grammar school, I had never been to a summer camp and, living in Allentown, there was NOTHING to do in the summertime.  I was a school bus Safety Patrol on my daddy's school bus so one Summer I went to Safety Patrol Camp at Lake Blackshear in Cordele. I was so very homesick and wanted to go home every day, but every day I'd tell myself, I'll call my parents tomorrow, and that's how I got through the week! When we got back to Dublin at the pickup point for parents, my daddy and mama were there, but my daddy just hugged me and was patting me on the back so hard!! At that moment, I realized that he had missed me as much as I had missed them! I can see all that in my mind's eye! I hope that vivid memory never goes away!”

SWM remembered, “My Grandfather was a Christian man, but he was tongue-tied and could not speak very plainly.  He did not know how to show his love or emotions very well, but when I would hug him goodbye, I knew that he loved me.”

To be continued….

I Remember Daddy.... Part 2

This is second in a series of friends’ fond memories of their dads and the lessons that they learned from them. Part 1 Bill

BG told me, “What I remember about my Daddy is that he never raised his voice or his hand toward his children.  He took us to Daytona Beach every year, as he really enjoyed the dog races.  I enjoyed watching the Braves on TV with him.  He was about 48 years old when I was born, so we did not actually do a lot of stuff together.  He would take my mother and me to our favorite fishing spot, then sit and watch until dark when mamma would finally be ready to go.   Finally, I remember being in the hospital room with him while doctors explained to him the operation to remove a brain cancer and seeing tears roll down his face.”

CBG wrote, “My daddy passed away when I was 18 years old and I always think about how much more I would have liked to have known him after my crazy teenage years were over.  What I value and remember most about him was what a hard worker he was and his strength of character.  He was a man of few words but when he did speak, you listened.  A couple of things I believe I learned from him that stands out the most are, you have to keep your word and punctuality.  He always had to be early for an event or appointment, not just on time but a good 30 minutes to an hour ahead of time, never late.  One more thing that comes to mind; he smiled most when children were around.  As I look back after all these years, I remember those were the times I heard him laugh.  I sure do miss him.”

This is what JSM had to say about his dad: “My dad was one of those people that was short with word and did not tell people how much he loved them. One day when he was getting on up in age he and I was sitting around chatting and he told me how he love me. He often put his arms around me but the word love was seldom said.

“I learned from him to be straight up with people and be honest. I love my Dad.  He was a good man.”

To be continued……

I Remember Daddy.......

Several weeks ago, my Friend, Ben, told me about something his daughter said many years ago.  She crawled up in his lap and said, "Daddy, I Love you"!

Understandably, I am sure that his heart just swelled because of the smile on his face as he told it.

She went on to say, "I love you because you take out the trash and kill all the roaches".

I thought that this was a touching story and it made me think that we don't really know what our children think, nor how what we do and say to them affects their thoughts; their lives.  I decided that during this year's bible school at church, I would ask several children about their fathers and see what kind of response I would get.  I ended up asking adults about their fathers instead.  I asked two questions:

                What is the most vivid memory of your dad, especially when you were small?

                What did you learn from your dad?

I got more answers than I expected and I will share at least some responses here over the next few days.  I will only use their initials, since I did not ask them about publishing their names.

One friend, SWM, said, "When I was a little girl, we didn't have a car.  My daddy was going to walk to the store, which seemed like it was two miles away, (it probably wasn't that far, but it really seemed like a long way to me).   I wanted to go too, so he let me walk with him.  Daddy was a fast walker and I couldn't keep up with him, so I grabbed his back pocket so that I could stay close to him.  I surely must have been thinking, 'daddy, don't walk so fast', but I knew that he was not going to leave me behind."

“My Daddy was a hard-working man.  He only had a 2nd grade education and could only write his name, but not very well.  He never had many earthly possessions, but he was always willing to share what he had, and was always willing to help someone.  He was one of the hardest working men I have ever known, but he didn't really need a lot of money to make him content.  He let my mother pick up his paycheck and would never even ask to see it.  He would let her pay the bills and use the money as she saw fit.  I never remember hearing my daddy ask for anything.”

 

SB said, “My Dad was my best friend.  I could talk with him anytime about anything and always felt much better, even though he might not always agree with me. He was a very humble man and very dedicated to the ministry.  He taught me the value of a Christian home and the importance of family time.  He loved God first and then his family.  I loved him very much.”

To be continued………….

Memorial Day 2014

This is Memorial Day weekend.  Some people view Memorial Day as the official start of summer, but it is a lot more than that.  Sometime next Monday, the president or some dignitary standing in for him will lay a wreath at the tomb of the Unknown Soldier to honor the men and women of the military who have died for their country.  We will see pictures of the tombstones at Arlington and other national cemeteries.  Some of us will take time to reflect, but others will be out grilling or boating; just celebrating a three-day weekend. 

A fair amount has been written about the beginning of the tradition of placing flowers on the graves of soldiers.  Some say it was in Savannah or Columbus, GA. Some say it was in Mississippi, or Ohio, or somewhere else.  It does not really matter to me where it started, what we call it or even what day we observe it.  The fact that we take time to stop, reflect and honor those brave men and women who served this country is what really matters to me.

I visited Arlington as a member of a high school band.  I think that we were in Washington DC for a cherry blossom parade.  I do not remember anything about the parade.  What I do remember is seeing all those acres of graves at Arlington National Cemetery; rows and rows of white marble grave markers, each with a cross or star of David.

I also remember seeing the tomb of the Unknown Soldier.  I remember the precision of the Army guards of the 3rd Army Infantry Regiment as they silently follow their routine of guarding the tombs, just as they have done since 1937.   He marches down the mat behind the tomb 21 steps, turns east and pauses 21 seconds, turns north and pauses 21 seconds, and then marches 21 steps to the other end of the mat.  He does a similar set of maneuvers to get back to his starting point.   He does this continually until the next soldier relieves him. 

Each precise turn the guard makes is followed by a click of his heels.  I remember it being so quiet there, except for the click of the soldier’s heels; so solemn, so respectful, so American!

I went up to The Bleckley County courthouse and sat on the bench out front on Friday afternoon.   As I sat there, I thought of the Unknown Soldier’s grave.  Somehow, I am afraid that all of us think of Memorial Day as being for ever so many unknown soldiers.  I am so proud of the people that have decorated the grounds of the courthouse for the Memorial Day celebration in Cochran.  They have placed over 50 markers, each with the name of the fallen soldier and the war he fought.  Most of them were crosses.  One had the Star of David.

Each of those markers represents not just a nameless brave soldier, but someone's son, or brother, or father.  A few names are familiar.  There are just a couple that I knew personally, but I am sure that I know the families of many of them.  They are names that I might have known if their lives had not been cut short, but they gave themselves so the ones that they love could live free in the country that they held dear. 

I later found out that it is not the American Legion or the VFW that puts out the flags and the markers, but the people in the Bleckley county courthouse.  There is a nice black granite marker on the northwest quadrant of the courthouse grounds that has almost all of these names listed by which conflict that they died in.  Nevertheless, they went to the trouble to place the markers on the grass, each with a soldier's name and an American flag.  It is a special tribute to ensure that they are soldiers with names.

I have no idea if I will be at the courthouse on Monday morning when the special service is held to honor these, and others, that have died in service to their country.  Just in case I don't make it Monday, I went up there last night and called each one by name, thanked them, and said a pray of gratitude for their service and the sacrifice that they and their families made.  I also read the names of the almost 100 American soldiers that have died since Memorial Day of 2013. It is the least I can do.

(See http://projects.militarytimes.com/valor/)  

Thanksgiving wishes

From Veteran’s Day until sometime in January when sheets and towels go on sale, life is really a blur at the Davis house. Probably yours too! Between dealing with leaves on the ground, decorating, shopping for gifts for your friends and loved ones, practicing for Christmas plays, Thanksgiving, office luncheons, church dinners and parties, and POSSIBLY watching just part of a football game or two, there doesn’t seem to be enough time to stop and smell the pumpkin pie.

In the middle of this blur, I think that it is important for us to stop and take a few minutes to think about what and who is important to us. Even more important, take the time to tell those special people that they important to you and how you appreciate them. Sending flowers after they’re gone will not be enough, trust me. It is much better to tell them while you are both living.

A friend once told me about a long-time friend of hers who had lost her husband. She took it very hard. It was almost a year before the two friends were able to talk about the loss. My friend asked, “What was the hardest part of losing your husband unexpectedly?”

She replied, “What I regret the most is the fact that the last time I saw him was when he left for work that morning he died, I was in such a hurry that I did not tell him I loved him. We always said ‘I love you’ each morning before he left. But that morning we were just too busy. I would give anything to be able to tell him that I love him, just one more time.”

Well, chances are that you will be around the very people that mean the most to you in the next few days. My challenge to you is to take just a few minutes to chat with each one and tell them how they are special to you. And if you love them, tell them! If they are not where you are, PICK UP THE PHONE!

Life expectancy is the longest it has ever been. But life is still too short to not take the time to smell the pumpkin pie, and laugh with family, and let them know what they mean to you. Besides, it’s Thanksgiving.

God told me to ask you…..

Yesterday we had our office Thanksgiving luncheon. The company furnishes the meat and drinks and the employees bring covered dishes. We have a couple of great folks that always volunteer to coordinate everything and pull it all together. They do a great job and it is always a hit.

The Thanksgiving menu discussion is always fun, especially if you have folks from different parts of the country. Do we have stuffing or dressing? (One participant insists that it is all dressing unless you dig it out of a turkey carcass.) Is it cornbread or bread in the dressing/stuffing; sweet potato or pumpkin pie? PEE-can or pe-CON pie? Is the turkey roasted, smoked or fried? (We actually had all three.)

When they finally settled on the menu and sent it out so we could volunteer for dishes, I decided to wait and see what was left on the list that no one wanted to bring. This is sometimes dangerous, at least for me. I could have ended up with a complicated dish and I would be stuck. Luckily, I was assigned to bring Cool Whip. I kinda felt like I had wimped out because there is not much effort or creativity in bringing cool whip, but what can you do?

On my way from home to work yesterday, I stopped by the trusty Piggly Wiggly to pick up my cool Whip. It was early, so I got a close parking place and there wasn’t even a line to check out.

As I walked out to my Jeep, a woman was getting out of her car halfway across the parking lot. She hollered across the parking lot, “Good morning.”

“Good morning.”

“Don’t you want to buy a sweet potato pie?’

“You have pies?”

“I sure do!” and she proceeded to open the back door of her car, so I got into my Jeep and drove over beside her. She pulled out a big tray of warm, homemade 4-5” sweet potato pies.

“I was just over at the convenience store on the bypass. Those men on the bench out front said I should bring the rest of these to town.”

“They look good! How much are they?”

“Just $2 apiece.”

“I’ll take two.” I told her. “And how did you know I just bought Cool Whip?”
“I didn’t. God just told me to ask you if you wanted a sweet potato pie. What’s yo name, honey?”

After exchanging pies, money, names and pleasantries, I noticed the embroidery on her apron. It said Heavenly Pies.

Indeed.

Looking back, I should have given her a container of Cool Whip. I had two.

Veterans Day 2011

In honor of Veterans Day we had several things happen in our church this past Sunday. We viewed a Veterans Day tribute video which went from Pearl Harbor through Korea, Viet Nam and September 11th right to today with our troops in Afghanistan and Iraq. It was very moving. Our pastor then recognized all the veterans in attendance. I looked around at all these men and women who have served our country. Some served in wartime and other during peaceful times. Some of them were young, others, not so much. Some served briefly, others an entire career. I was struck by the fact that these men and women that were standing are pillars of our church and our community.

Even though I have worked in and around a large military industrial complex most of my working life and feel like I have as good an understanding of the military way as an outsider can have, I am still an outsider. I believe that there is no possible way for me to truly understand the sacrifice that many veterans gave because I did not go there. I am an outsider.

There are more than 22 million veterans in America. There are over 1.5 million veteran women, probably more than any time in our history. There are 3.3 million veterans with service related disabilities. On any given night, there are over 107,000 homeless veterans in America.

We celebrate Veterans Day on November 11th each year, a tradition going all the way back to the end of WW I. It was then called Armistice Day in honor of the end of hostilities on the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month of 1918. In his proclamation in 1919, President Woodrow Wilson said:

"To us in America, the reflections of Armistice Day will be filled with solemn pride in the heroism of those who died in the country's service and with gratitude for the victory, both because of the thing from which it has freed us and because of the opportunity it has given America to show her sympathy with peace and justice in the councils of the nations."

Please take a few minutes this Veterans Day to reflect on what the men and women who have served in our military have contributed to our security and freedom. Call or go see one just to say thanks for what they have done to make America the place where people still want to come. Most of us outsiders really have no idea what our freedom cost them.

Memorial Day

We lived life at a much slower pace when I was growing up on Chicken Road in rural north Dodge County. It was easy to tell where the Bleckley County line was on Chicken Road because the pavement ended when you got to Dodge County. It was really fun when it rained because you might get where you were going and you might not. Today, when people refer to getting in the ditch, it is a metaphor for something going wrong. Back then, it referred to driving on a slick rain-soaked road and quite literally, sliding in the ditch.

We didn’t eat out often and I really looked forward to going to Macon, maybe twice or three times a year. I remember one of the stores in downtown Macon had an elevator and there was an elevator operator that was always dressed up and operated the doors and the controls. It was probably Joseph N Neel’s, but I'm not sure. We’d always go to Sears, Newberry’s, Dannenberg’s, and I remember eating at Krystal or the lunch counter at Woolworth’s.

I remember going to Macon with my mama and her good friend Edna Scarborough. I must have been six or seven years old, I guess. We were in mama’s 1954 blue and white Ford. I remember this trip particularly because there was a parade while we were there. As the parade passed us, some of the entries threw candy. Ms Edna seemed to be getting more candy that the rest of us. She said several times, “Y’all don’t need to get any; I’ll have plenty to share.” She would pick up candy and put it in her pocket and as soon as she stood up, there would be more candy at her feet. As it turned out, we all got more candy than she because she was reaching through the pocket (of her all-weather coat,) and dropping the candy on the ground. She picked up the same 10 pieces of candy over and over.

In that parade were some military units, but there were also some old men dressed up in military uniforms that didn’t fit. They didn’t look like they could defend their rocking chair very well, much less America. Some of them were on crutches and some were missing arms. I asked Mama what those old men were doing in the parade. She explained that they were there to remind us of all the men and women who had made sacrifices to keep America free. I didn’t understand.

She said, “Billy, I’m talking about people like your uncle James.”

I understood. I never saw him in person because he died seven years before I was born. He was one of the first from Dodge County to Join the Navy after Pearl Harbor was attacked. One day this 22 year old was rolling in the floor, playing with his nephew and just a few days later he was a young man rolling in the mud at boot camp. One day he was a carefree brother trying to sort out what he will do with his life and just a few days later, he was a young man with purpose to fight and destroy a common enemy.

He didn’t die in combat, but he did give his life doing what men and women have done for more than 200 years. He was wearing the uniform with honor and a solemn promise to defend the United States of America.

I understood what those old men in the parade were trying to tell me. I had held the musty smelling, moth-eaten flag with 48 stars that draped James’s coffin when they brought him home and buried him at his parents’ feet in Bower’s Cemetery. I had read the letters that he sent his sister, and I had seen his pictures, both in and out of uniform. I saw what his loss did to his baby sister, my aunt Beck. She lived another 30 years, but started dying the day he did.

Uncle James didn’t make it to his 24th birthday. He never married, had children, found his first gray hair, or got to meet me. He gave all that up because he thought that the American way of life was threatened by those men far away and he needed to do his part to protect it.

He didn’t do anything that others before or since haven’t done. I just thought that this Memorial Day, I should introduce you to him by name. He and the thousands that he represents gave their all so that we could have the freedom that we enjoy every day. They deserve so much more.

Gifts not wrapped

On my way home from the Mall of Georgia, I began to think about how our annual family Christmas shopping trip really puts me in the Christmas spirit. I know that the economy is probably as bad as it has ever been in my lifetime. However, I really didn’t get that impression with the traffic, the line winding out of the door at Starbucks, or the people searching for a table in the food court. I know that Christmas is way too commercialized, but I love the sense of excitement that is all around when we’re there. Of course, I probably wouldn’t feel this way if I were actually SHOPPING. I am usually just the designated driver and my hardest decision is what I want to eat.

One source says that four million tons of wrapping paper and shopping bags will be discarded during a typical holiday season. If my Mother were alive, she’d say, “You can’t blame that on me. I recycle.”

She certainly did. It was amusing to our entire family how carefully she would unwrap each gift so that not only the ribbon, but also the paper and box could be stored and reused the next year. There is at least a remnant of that tradition left in our family. We have several boxes and gift bags that have been used many times. I suspect they will be under the tree this Christmas morning. (They probably already are.)

As much as I enjoy finding things for my friends and family, I am convinced that the best gifts that we can give are gifts that you can’t wrap. There are so many of these, but I’ll just list a few that come to mind today:

Give smiles. When you are out and about, spread some cheer of your own. Children in the malls, especially the little ones, are usually all smiles. Give them one back.

Give kind words. Those employed in retail are expected to be courteous and wish you a Merry Christmas, (or something more generic.) Beat them to it! “Merry Christmas” them all first and mean it!

Make the call. Between the price of postage and our busy lifestyle, we probably send fewer Christmas cards than in the past. Look through your phone/address book and call someone. Make several calls. Don’t just call your regular ones. Call someone that is not expecting to hear from you. It will be good for both of you.

Give of your time. Everyone always seems to be so busy. Are we all really that busy? We need to be sure that we save some time to spend with those that we love. If you can, save some time to volunteer for some cause that is important to you. If you volunteer with a loved one it will be a real winner.

Give your undivided attention. I am among the worst at trying to multitask. I was never good at it, but as I get older I get worse at it. When you spend time with your loved ones, give them some time that is not shared with your phone, computer or TV.

Slow down and make memories. I can remember some of my early Christmas presents. I remember my first bicycle, a J.C. Higgins model, and a few other things. Of all the Christmas memories I have, the fondest ones were not about things. They are smells, sounds, and times with loved ones. I didn’t feel that way then, but I certainly do now.

Last week, I was on my way home from work, sitting at a traffic light. A school bus crossed in front of me. I could see that the interior was decorated with wreaths, candy canes and stockings. The driver had written on the inside of the windows, “Jesus is the reason for the season.” Of course, that made me smile. I first thought, “When I was growing up, all of the drivers were old farmers who wouldn’t think of decorating their bus.” However, the real impact was the fact that this woman had taken the time to spread real Christmas cheer, truly a gift that cannot be wrapped.

Merry Christmas!

Thankful for Small Things

In just a couple of days it will be Thanksgiving Day. They seem to get closer and closer each year. I remember when it was a long time between Thanksgiving and Christmas. Now it seems that from Halloween through 1 January is just one holiday blur. I OBJECT. I have moved comfortably into "middle age" and I am old enough to insist on celebrating my holidays one at a time.

A few days ago I went to the kitchen at work and several people had put a Post-it on the refrigerator. Each of them had written what they were thankful for on their Post-it and left it there to share with their coworkers. I thought “what a great idea.” During this hectic time of year, when so many rush from one "celebration" to the next; when our friends, family, neighbors, coworkers all seem to expect something from us. Why not take a little time to think about the things for which you are thankful, not just the big things either, but the little things too.

I am thankful that I can go to Piggly Wiggly, Kroger, Wal-Mart or Publix to buy a turkey of MY choice. I will wait in line to pay for it and be irritated that the lady in front of me actually has TWELVE items in her basket (I’ll count them) and she has the AUDACITY to go through the EXPRESS line.

The folks in Moscow wait in line for hours to buy fruits or bread. The selection we have would astound shoppers in most countries.

I am thankful for Rocky Road ice cream with those little almond pieces.

I am thankful that I am seldom depressed.

I am thankful that my children are rarely sick, but when they are, I can take them to my choice of the finest medical practitioners in the world. Although I will invariably complain that my wait is too long and the prescription costs too much.

I am thankful for those selfless people like Mother Teresa who heard God's call on their life and answered that call. I am thankful that she didn’t have to comfort me or my family, but would have.

Although I am not particularly thankful for poor vision, I am thankful for my glasses that help me see. I AM thankful that I can see…… in color, if not clearly!

I am thankful for my wife, three daughters and son-in-law. I am thankful that they are forgiving and supportive.

I am grateful for the guy that invented dental floss. (I’ll say a special word for him late Thursday afternoon when I am fighting something I ate.)

I am thankful for a supportive pastor and church family that fight a whole lot less than some blood related families I know.

I am thankful for the white line and those little grooves on the right side and those little orange "bloop-bloopers" in the middle of the roads in Georgia. They come in real handy in the rain or fog.

I am thankful that I don't need a handicapped parking place. I am also thankful that I could get one if I needed one.

I am thankful that the eagle is on the quarter, and we eat turkey for thanksgiving, (instead of the other way around.)

When I get frustrated with my computer, my job, a coworker or boss, Lord help me think of those barefooted Chinese peasants bending over in a cold rice paddy half way 'round the world.

I am thankful for my job, my coworkers, and my work assignments over the last 40+ years.

We American can think of many things to complain about, but no people on earth have more to be thankful for. This Thursday, sometime between stuffing yourself, playing/fighting with your family, watching the parades, or football games, or the Christmas "sale" on the Home Shopping Network, take just a few minutes to think about the things you are thankful for. You'll be amazed.

Have a safe holiday with those that are important to you.