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When I returned home this time, as always, I took a visual inspection of changes in mom's physical health, always trying to be alert to things she may not notice herself or be open to discussing, as well as the burgeoning collection of physical treasures she has crammed into every nook and cranny of her three bedroom home. As the adult child of a senior citizen, you notice aspects of their physical stature, you listen to the doctor when he discusses their ailments and treatments as though he is giving you a warning 20 years into the future, and then you contemplate how in the world they survive as they do, when it seems that the simplest instructions often go overlooked and ignored as though they are mere suggestions. I'm reminded always of the old saying, "you cannot raise your parents." Taking her shopping and just going for long drives in the Tennessee and Kentucky countryside did us both a world of good. We know enough about our ancestor's pasts and old stories around the area to keep a constant conversation going about what life must have been like long before we had the internet to distract us from it.
Another highlight of my trip was visiting my "adopted dad." I say that because I adopted him the day I married his daughter 26 years ago. It was adoption that wasn't realized by either party at the time, but the terms and conditions were hammered out through trial, error, and an undying mutual respect we've shared over a quarter century. Since my dad passed 11 years ago, I've clung more tightly to my standby dad partly because he continued to accept me long after the marriage deteriorated, and even more so because as his health declines, the introvert he once was - dropped his guard and confessed secrets of trust with me that I may take to my grave, but also made me proud of him, as I realize huge sacrifices he made in trying to provide a better life for others. This time, I stopped by as I arrived in town and sat with him for a couple of hours sharing pictures from recent excursions around the globe, discussing the world's situation, and observing the physical changes in this man who for the better part of our relationship, weighed over 300 pounds, but now weighs a couple pounds less than me. While the prognosis of his health may keep him bedridden, I couldn't help but see the glimmer of happiness in his eye each time a nurse come in to check on any unmet needs. For so long, he waited on himself in solitude, and now I can see that he fully appreciates having someone around to take care of him. I visited again with things I knew he would really like - a meatloaf plate from Cracker Barrel, a large jar of pimento olives, bag of black licorice, assorted jellybeans, and old time stick candy. God will be doing me a great favor if he keeps him around for another extended visit.
My brother and I are about as different as Jupiter is from Saturn in the night sky, but we share a commonality in a love of fishing. On this trip, he delivered me to one of his favorite places, and one I'd never been to due to its rural location. Within 15 minutes, I reeled a white spinner bait across a fork in a submerged tree and hooked into the largest bass I've ever landed in my life. Needless to say, when I yelled "get the net, bro" he came running - eager to aid me in scratching off another item off my bucket list (land a bass over five pounds). Believe it or not, I've had many on the line, but I don't remember ever getting a real "lunker" fully out of the water. This time, I had a very real feeling that it would happen and now it has been realized. Call it a premonition, but holding her in my hand admiring my prize, I knew God had gift wrapped and delivered on a petty wish of mine. Seeing the full belly of eggs, I quickly released her and then went on to catch upwards of twenty more before a fully realized upper torso sunburn ushered me to the truck. My old habit of good-natured rubbing in the fact that I out fished everyone was let go along with all the fish. To borrow a quote from the NFL, "there was no need to spike the ball." In truth, my brother hooked a gar that had he landed it, would have made my fish look minuscule in comparison, and also in truth - I was hoping he did. I never begrudge anyone a chance at landing such a monster unless of course, they talk more trash than me and with him, he doesn't fit the mold. I was happy to take photos of him and his two sons during my trip and was particularly proud of his oldest son, who won an award for being the best World History/Geography student. This was a huge surprise for me, but such a pleasant one, as I hope the elation of winning the medal and certificate make him hungry for further successes in academia.
On a completely unrelated subject, after typing out the above blog and saving it to review before posting, I went bowling tonight near my home in Oklahoma, and in my first game, I marked off yet another bucket list item by picking up a 7-10 split, much to my chagrin and that of my friends and the guy bowling next to me. A few frames later, I got the even more difficult 4-6-7-10 split and picked up the 6-7-10 portion and just missed the 4. Had that happened, I probably would have retired my bowling ball. Considering my blessings with the fishing and bowling bucket list things I've checked off in matter of five days, which took me the better part of 45 years to do, I have to say "Praise the Lord for his glorious blessings - even in regards to my trivial desires."