Poppa Bear

I am blessed.

I have to remind myself of that when things go wrong and/or break.

I know,  it is just part of life, but, sometimes, enough is enough. 

We all get to that point. We take a deep breath and go on.

It is ok, as long as we don't allow ourselves to wallow for too long and stay there.

Some days, we just have to try a bit harder to remind ourselves of our blessings. 

In a few days, it will be 15 years since Daddy died.

May 24th would have been his 95th birthday.

Still, it hurts as much as ever.

Grief has no time limits, like some may think.

Y'all have heard me tell so much about Momma and Daddy,  and it makes me smile to know how many good memories I have of them, both.

I was a Daddy's girl to the core.

Brian would make me go ask Daddy when he wanted stuff, cause he was convinced that Daddy could not say NO to me.

What he didn't understand, was Daddy would do anything humanly possible for any of us--anything! 

He made my life too easy, but he taught me so much by watching him. He lived his life the same as he spoke, though often, his words were few.

Don't get me wrong, that man was a talker.  When people described him as quiet, they didn't know him.

He didn't speak loudly or unkindly. He spoke his mind. He was not a mushy person, but was never afraid to cry. He loved children, and was a sort of baby whisperer--a crying baby was little challenge for him! 

You have all read this before...

Recently, I was painting the second installment of 3 of Amy Mogish's Going to Market Club. It was an ear of corn. She described "corn hair", and I burst into laughter. I hope that will forever be in my vocabulary. 

Corn, of course, makes me think of Daddy. 

So often, I have heard people talking about FINALLY getting a day off of work, after maybe 7 days or more, or even less.

I chuckle, because, Daddy worked 7 days a week, 52 weeks a year.  Those cows needed milking twice a day--no matter what.

He never complained...

BUT, the difference was, He loved what he did. It wasn't simply a job, but a way of life. He knew he was blessed.  He loved the land, and took care of it, as God told us to do. He loved God, too, and put Him first in our home.

After Daddy "retired" from milking cows, he and "the old man who lived down the road"  starting raising a big patch of silver queen corn. After Mr. Arms died, I became the main "picker" with Daddy. 

Daddy drove the tractor and we threw the picked corn in the front end loader. I am pretty sure I can't count how many ears of corn I had the pleasure of picking with Daddy.

As his health declined, I knew he would keep going as long as he planted the corn. I would breath a sigh of relief each spring when that planting took place.

Sure enough, the last year of his life, there was no corn planted...

So, here we are again as another year without him ticks off the calendar...

I wouldn't have him in his earthly body for anything, but I miss him as much as ever.

I know how blessed I am.

So, thank you for allowing me to mumble on, some more...

You KNOW I will keep doing it.

I just think we need to share our joys with each other.

So, here is a little something I have decided to share with you.

Happy hedgie...Click here to download the pattern.

Daddy was forever bragging on me and my creating...

One day, he showed something to the meter reader, and the man wanted one.

Daddy told him that he promised if we didn't have one, then it would be painted by the next day...Daddy even went and cut it out, just to be sure! 

Well, after I arrived home from  12 hours of being gone, he smiled and told me about "the deal"...

I wasn't as happy...

I said, unless he learned to paint real fast, he best never make THAT deal again...bwah ha ha ha...

Luckily, we had one ready to go! 😉😀😁😂😃😄

Yep, I would have painted it,  if we had not had one. I would have done anything for him! 

That is what love is all about.

So, just like most of you, I pay the price of love--grief.

BUT I know that

I am simply blessed to create~charlotte♡

Click here if you want to read more about my sweet Daddy