Dads

I have never really had a dad. Growing up, I saw my father mostly on Thanksgiving and Christmas.  When he divorced my mom when I was an infant, he pretty much divorced me too.  I don’t say this to sound pitiful.  Truth be told, I had a much better childhood than most of the people I know with a mom and a dad.  God knew what He was doing.  He gave me an awesome Mom and put several Godly men in my life to be great stand in fathers.

In middle school, I met Jenilee and when we joined at the hip, I got a new set of parents.  A dad came built in.  Darol was a great dad.  He took his family to church every time the doors were open and when my cat Boss died, he came over to my house and buried it for my grief stricken mother and me.  He cooked breakfast all the time and went to all of Jenilee’s (boring) track meets.  When we went out to dinner, he paid for mine too.

The summer of my freshman year in college, I started working with the youth at Phaniels Baptist Church.  Since I was pretty much a kid myself, I got “adopted” by a lot of the parents of my youth.  That’s when I got Ronald Taylor.  Many know Ronald as “the fish man.”  He’s Brett and Andrea’s dad.  They know they are two lucky kids.  I got lucky when Ronald came into my life too.  For the past five years, he’s cooked for my Relay for Life team after he got off work, on a Friday, for FREE.  Before we got married, he gave Skip some words of wisdom.  I didn’t have a Dad to do that, so he it for me.  A week or so after we got  married, he called and asked if Skip was treating me right.  He’s an awesome dad.

Dan Talley was another father I got from my time at Phaniels.  Since he had three kids of his own, he knew a little bit of how to deal with a 19 year old kid.    I had so much to learn, I’m amazed I made it a summer, much less 7 years working with their youth.  My first year, I did everything wrong, so I was pretty surprised the following spring when Dan called me at school to ask if I wanted to come back for the summer.  He was one of the deacons who hired me the first time.  He saw how much I loved the kids and he liked me.  He spent the next several years defending my honor every time I did something wrong or the preacher called me in for “a talking to.”  He went to camp with us one sweltering summer and forced us to wash cars to raise money for mission trips.  He cared about every kid in the youth group with his own daughter Michelle, and he cared about me.  He was a great dad.

Dan got to meet The Father this weekend.  Dan loved to hunt.  Apparently, he was hunting Saturday morning and God called him home.  What an amazing way to go.   I think maybe that was the beginning of his reward for a life well spent.  He was a devoted man of God.  He was a deacon; he was a Gideon.  He was on the youth council for years after his own children graduated.  He was one of the many men God put in my life to show me what Godly men look like.  Even though I haven’t seen him as often lately as I once did, I’m going to miss him.  He was a great dad.

Car Trouble

     Last Thursday, Mom got a call from Nanny at work.  Nothing was "wrong," her car battery was just dead.  She wanted to make a quick trip to the library and to Subway and was frustrated to have her wings clipped.  I put a call into our personal mechanic, Skip, who stopped by after work Thursday night to give her a jump.  Today, when she went out for an afternoon doctor's appointment, the battery was dead again.  I would need to take her to an appointment rescheduled for later in the afternoon.

     Sunday morning, driving home from church, Skip's transmission went out.  This car has been a blessing and a frustration for him for as long as I can remember.  The car was a gift from his grandparents and took him from West Virginia to Georgia and finally home to me in North Carolina.  It's also spent it's fair share of time broken down on the side of the road and in greasy garages across 5 states.  We have decided, however, that the car I affectionately call the "Christmas Taurus" (green car, red door) should be retired.  We simply cannot afford to put $1500 in a car that probably wouldn't sell for that much in great condition.  But- we are not in a position to buy a car and take on car payments either.  So, this morning during our prayer time together, we asked the Lord what to do about the car situation.

     On the way to the doctor's office today, Nanny and I commiserated about our car woes.  It was then that she told me that she planned to hang up her keys.  Her walking is getting worse and she just doesn't feel comfortable behind the wheel anymore.  I was relieved (we've been concerned about her driving for a while now) and terribily sad at the same time.  I remember riding all over town with Nanny when I was a little girl.  When she had to brake, she would sling her right arm out to protect me.  Today, we made a tentative plan on how she will get to future appointments without driving herself.        

      Nanny told me she would probably sell her car for "whatever she could get for it."  I heard the answer to our prayer from this morning as clearly as if the Lord had used an audible voice and not just the voice of my sweet Nanny.  I excitedly offered to buy the car from her to replace Skip's.  A 1997 Grand Prix with 80,000 miles isn't worth a whole lot of money, but it's in good condition and what's more, we can afford it!  But, Nanny said "no."  She would not sell it to us.  Skip could use it as long as we need it, but we could not pay her for it.

     It is a bittersweet realization that our car troubles are solved because her driving days have ended.  Although, I should not be surprised that once again, Nanny is coming to the rescue.  She and my Papa bought my first car.  She sent me enough money in college that I did not have to work my freshman year.  Just Saturday, she gave me a wad of money for Skip and I to go out to dinner that night. 

     I hope that I will always be the one who can take her to the bank, the bread store, to Wal-mart and the doctor's office.  I pray I never get frustrated by an inconvenience in my day.  I hope I will remember everyday that it will take more years than either of us has left to repay her kindness; but with any luck, I'll be given enough years to at least make a dent.