He's the Papa!

When people first meet me, they generally meet a thing of skin and other tissues encasing a large rag-tailed group of contradictions. Just as people catagorize me, and shove me into my little box, I swing off a little loop hole, or squeeze out of a crack in the corner. Leaving them reaching in the air for something to wrap their fingers around. I don't mean to be two-faced or hypocritical. I prefer to think "complex." But I guess I'll let you be the judge.

However, in order to help people understand me a bit more (and hopefully be less two-sided), I usually refer to my growing up years -homeschooling, ranching, farming, traveling, homechurching, etc. Whether their actually interested in my history, or whether it just makes me feel like I'm on the Jay Leno show, I haven't yet figured out.

But thinking about my past makes me think about my family and thinking about my family makes me think about my parents and thinking about my parents makes me think about my dad and thinking about my dad makes me think about how he has effected my life and thinking about how he has effected my life makes me think about my times with him (knee-jerk reaction sort of thing.)


My all-time favorite: In the living room, bibles open in front of us, Dad explaining the tribulation -what needs to take place before then, what will take place after, and what our purpose is in between- both of us flipping from Old Testament to New and back again. His eyes sparkling.

Riding the hay-wagon with Dad, watching the big truck slurp up the bales and stack them in the back as we bump along. Me occasionally shouting something to Dad, and him replying with a nod and a grunt.

Skiing with Dad. From watching him swish down Willamette's "Face" to stumbling after him as he hopped a line through Good Charlie's bumps. He was strong, swift and my hero. He still tops me hands down when going through the moguls. That was winter. In the summer it was him on the slalom ski, cutting the water so that it spurted out behind him in a towering rooster tail. And then we'd eat sun-chips and bagels together.

Now memories of him are flooding my heart... He's sacrificed for his family. He's loved. He's made many mistakes. He's never given up. He's an incredible guy, my Dad is.