Nancy's Notebook

Dear Daddy,
Upon the advise of a dear friend, I was compelled to write this note.
What do I remember most about my Daddy?
Your hands. From my earliest childhood, daddy's hands were my comfort, my strength and my protection. Whether in discipline or a stroke of my head, I knew those hands loved me and no power on earth could sever that love.
I have seen your hands clenched in pain that most could not bear. I have seen handtools break under the sheer power of your grip. I have seen your hands hold mama countless tender times. You never held her with your eyes open. They were always closed, a smile on your face and your hand holding her head to your chest. You loved her more than life and taught us what it meant to love.
I remember your hands smelling of H A, the hair tonic you used to comb our hair on Sunday morning. You would hold my chin with one hand and comb with the other. That aroma permeates my memories of childhood happiness.
I remember later in life the smell of English Leather on your hands and your clothes. I have one of your jackets hanging in my closet. Sometimes I will bury my nose in its weave, hoping a trace of the aroma lingers.
Daddy was an early riser. Sometimes he would have an entire field plowed before sunrise. I remember arriving at the farm occasionally, only to see the tractor stopped. I would find him, either standing by the tractor or leaning over the steering wheel, just looking at the eastern sky. Is anything wrong, I would ask. He would smile and reply "Sometimes son, I just have to stop and watch the sunrise."
Lord, help me to be more like my daddy and to honor You as he did in his life...and sometimes Lord, help me just stop plowing and watch the sunrise.
Gary House
Lubbock, Texas
 

Oh Gary, I love your beautiful memory of you dear daddy....thank you so much for sharing this with us!
love, nancy