I just don't Understand

I never really realized how much you held this family together until a couple weeks ago. Or maybe I've just been blind to the goings on within our family. Either way, ever since you went home we've been slowly slipping downhill apart from each other. I wish this weren't the case. I wish you were here to bring us back together.

Miss You Still

I miss you. As it nears April 19th tears wet my cheek yet again at the precious memory of you. You will not be sad though, will you? That is the day you felt life for the first time ever. Life as God intended it to be felt.
I imagine you in a lush green pasture, under a beautiful fruit tree, sitting there relaxing in its shade you bite into the sweetest fruit you've ever had. You are at peace. You are well. You are whole.
I miss you. I am so happy for you and I love that you are walking and talking with Jesus, but I miss you like crazy. I am not sure if these notes reach heaven or not, but if they do, know that you are still so deeply loved and so greatly missed. This place is not the same without you. I am sure they are saying the same thing where you are now!

I love you.

P.S. I took my kids swimming in the cold cold creek recently. They loved it! Remember the fun we used to have in that creek? I will never forget those sweet memories.

Thoughts of You

It is no surprise that as the Thanksgiving holiday comes around my thoughts are on my paw paw and my uncle Harold. I will be in Elberta this year, for the first time ever on Thanksgiving and I can't imagine a better place to be.
I am aching to walk the land my Paw Paw walked. I am aching to breath the air that so refreshes my soul. I long to look into the sunrise and smile back at the same God who smiled on my Paw Paw's life.
I miss him terribly.
I feel so privileged to have been a part of something so wonderful.
When I think about him, the image that comes to my mind is a nappy curly haired little girl dancing on the shoes of a man she adores. He leads her around the room grinning uncontrollably and she knows nothing exist beyond the gentleness of his love.
Paw Paw, I am getting older now. I am 29 and not 5. But when I think of you I will always be that little girl being led around the ball room on her paw paw's shoes. You gave me such a wonderful gift when you loved me like this. I could not be more thankful for your life or that I was so blessed to be a part of it. You are precious to me. Your memory is precious to me.
I wonder what you do in heaven while we are stuffing our faces with Turkey. Obviously you would not celebrate Thanksgiving in heaven. What are you celebrating Paw Paw? What are you talking to Jesus about? Are you and Harold pole fishing? I miss you so much it hurts sometimes. But even in the pain, I can't help but smile because that is how I remember you...smiling, lovingly looking at me and smiling, beckoning me to climb in your lap so you could hold me close.
I love you ol' man. I can't wait to hug you again.
Harold,
I miss you so much. I miss you screaming my name "DANNER!!" You always could make me smile and laugh. I hate the way you left this world. It felt so premature and even now when I think of it, it is like rubbing sand paper on my heart. But I remember how peaceful you looked, just months before you left us. We were in your house listening to Josh Groban, Jesus Joy of Mans Desiring. You titled your head back and closed your eyes and you looked as if you were already face to face with Jesus. Complete peace washed your face. I know that you struggled in your life, with more that I can understand, but I want you to know that you were loved. You are missed.
I can't wait to see you again. Are there cats in heaven? Do you remember Toonsis the driving cat? We laughed so hard about that. We always laughed hard together.

I miss you both so much. I am sure I will stop by your grave while I am in Elberta. I know you are not really there, just your physical body, but it helps me to remember you and remember that though you suffered during the last stages of your life you are not suffering now.
My favorite saying is by Amelia Barr "Time is a very precious gift of God; so precious that it's only given to us moment by moment"

Your moments were precious to me and I will treasure them in my heart always. I love you both so very much.
Joanna

Nothing to Say

RW was a man who helped families say goodbye. As a pastor, he was familiar with death and funerals. I wonder how many funerals he officiated. I wonder what he felt as he prepared for his first funeral. I have no doubt these events impacted him. He was a deep thinker. I can't imagine he would summarize someone's life without really processing the truth, the legacy, the meaning of the life that had passed.
Today I am reading through old notes, quotes, and comments that I keep handy. I came across and email from Jon Mitchell, sent to me in February of 2006. He had stumbled on the written text of a eulogy that RW gave for one of his friends.

"When some men come to the end of their way and their last rights are spoken, it is necessary to dress up their eulogies as much as permissible to make things look as good as possible. When other men die, a simple honest statement of the facts is sufficient for the good lives they lived. When other men die, words fail. The human language is not sufficient to express all that ought to be said.
Words cannot be framed that are adequate enough to express how noble has been the life which has been plucked from among us."

RW, you have been gone for years now. Yet your impact on my life still shapes the ebbs and flows of my days. I still miss you. And when I hear of great men, I still measure their greatness by you. Your life is one of those where "words fail." And beyond the words that you penned, there really is nothing to say.

Cherishing the Experience

I know it's been ages since anyone posted on this blog. No memoirs, or reasons to be sad. That in and of itself is good. I'm glad that our family can be happy in the fact that we haven't lost Ralph, but that he's just done what he often did while still alive: waiting for us to come along.

I have been going through a hard time today, and I began to wonder what he would tell me if I shared how I felt. I wondered what insight he might have had, or if he would have just sat there and listen.

The truth is, I am jealous of all of those who got to know RW in a way I never could, and now never can. The RW who would wrestle with Richard; the RW who was so full of life and jibe, that you thought he would never wear out. I've heard so many stories, but I did not get the experiences. Those who have them, cherish it, and don't take it for granted.

I guess that's really all there is to say in this case.

Grace and Peace

Missing the Patriarchs

I'm turning 28 in 11 minutes. Not a huge deal except that I'm vain enough to sweat the small things... like being almost thirty (I just heard my thirty year old cousins audibly gasping). But, tomorrow is my birthday...on your birthday, your grandparents call. You see where I'm going with this? Yes, I miss my PawPaw. And because I'm prone to introspection and constantly analyzing my inner dialogue I realize that as I get older, so do my children. Carly will be six this year and the last picture I have of PawPaw actually holding her, she was nine months old. She doesn't remember him. Or his truck that was beat the heck up. Or the cold cold creek. Or freezing rain beating you in the back of the beat the heck up truck on the way home from the cold cold creek. Or Harold dropping the watermelon at the cold cold creek and PawPaw chasing the watermelon, not giving a fig about Harold landing on his rear end in the mud. She doesn't remember Harold!
The thing is, I know in my head that we aren't long for this world, that a glorious age is to come and she will know them then. Still, my heart aches for our kids, all of them, who will sit at our knees and learn the stories of our time with them but not get to physically KNOW them. And Carly, who misses her Grandpa every single day. I'm having a hard time seeing through the pain of loss right now.
What I really want for my birthday is a belly full of love, PawPaw with a black comb in his shirt pocket, the Woerner whoop, a resounding blow to my kidneys, his joy in the presence of his great grandchildren and Joel's daddy to walk through the door tomorrow and rearrange my kitchen to HIS liking (even though that gets on my every nerve).
We always want what we can't have (I know I do). What would be truly awesome as birthday presents go is if our Father in heaven finally opened the door and took us all home for a big family reunion...forever!
I wonder if our glorified bodies allow for kidney pounding and if our vocal chords will still be perfectly attuned to the grit behind the Woerner whoop?

Ooh, it's midnight.
I'm 28 PawPaw. I love you and I miss you. You are a legend.
I'm 28 Harold, and I would love the be involved in pointless eschatological rhetoric with you today.
Joel's 27 now and I'm 28 Oldie. We miss you, we love you...and our kitchen is a disaster.

Azalea's and Pine Straw

It is hard to believe it has been a year since RW's passing. Sometimes I miss him so bad that it still feels as though it just happened. I am feeling so emotional even as I write this blog.
The azalea bushes have been beautiful this spring and every time I see one I hear his gruff voice saying, "Man that is beautiful". I laugh as I remember the drives around Centerpoint just to see the azalea's. He would pull into a random driveway and just sit there and stare.
I also remember that when he needed pine straw for his planters, he would stop at a strangers house and start collecting it out of their yard. I would say, "Paw Paw shouldn't you ask first" he would gruffly say back, " Aww they don't care, they don't need it!".
My Paw Paw, the boldest of the bold.
I miss you old man. I can't wait to see you again. I know you are happy and well now, eating all the peaches and satsumas you can stand. You were a great man, I wish my children could have known you as I did.
I long for the day when we will all be with Jesus and we won't remember the sting of death.
Jesus, hug my Paw Paw for me. Please.

These are a few of my favorite things...

In these pictures you will see RW doing two of his most favorite things in all the world: Eating taco salad and staring. This is Josiah in September of '03. I had taught Josiah to raise his hands signaling a touch down whenever I screamed, "touchdown Auburn!" Not only had I for years opposed RW in all things football. Now his great grandson was giving him grief.
Oh, how I would love to know what Papaw was thinking...
meanwhile, welcome to the Woerner stare, Josiah.

Imitating the Father

This week I imitated my Father.

Often when my kids were little and would get sick, Dad would bring them a goodie bag-bananas, oranges, grapes, Mr. Goodbar, stuff like that. I don't really know what it meant to my kids, but for some reason it mean a LOT to me. In watching Dad love my kids, I felt loved.

Several of my grandkids have been sick lately. I was wishing I lived closer so I could take them a goodie bag. But Monday I just decided that distance would not be a issue. I'm sure I'd never regret leaving work early, but I might regret not loving on my grandkids. So I left work and went to the store and had a blast getting some grapes, bananas, oranges, Valentine shaped Little Debbies and a few other things (I may have overdone it, but I'm still learning) for my sweet, sick grandbabies. I don't know what it means to them, but I sure enjoyed doing it and I think one of the reasons was because I was imitating my Dad. I just thought he'd be happy to see me doing that.

Made me think about imitating my Heavenly Father. Hope I can find ways to do that. Maybe He'll be happy to see me imitating Him. Maybe I'll even have a blast doing it.
Sharon

Blow for Blow

This post is long overdue.

RW and I lived in the same city my entire childhood. So we shared some of the common events of life. Much of the family had to settle for a handful of gathering times through the year--Christmas, Summer, and maybe an extra weekend visit.

One thing that Papaw and I connected on every year was college football. To be more specific, he bled crimson, I bleed orange and blue.

It has been noted that RW was competitive. I mention it as an underscore. He was fiercely competitive. I have a little of that in me too. I can remember testing my "horns" of competition on him when I was young. He put me in my place and didn't comfort me. I learned early that you can be tender with Papaw and you can compete with RW, but the two probably will never happen in the same moment.

So every fall, we would both start strutting and snorting. The animal instincts were taking over. And every year it would culminate at a climactic battle to claim the mountain top. The Iron Bowl. His colors verse mine. And from that day until the next year, both of us will know our place.

1985. This is probably my earliest memory of devastating defeat. I was young. So young that the memory is cloudy. I remember sitting on my knees directly in front of the TV. RW sat to my left on the couch in his basement. The tension was thick, at least for my 7 year old soul. I remember feeling like I couldn't take my eyes off him. We must have already been yelling and rubbing it in as each of our teams scored. I remember feeling that competitive distrust as I kept my horns between me and him.
Then at the last second, Alabama kicked a field goal, to win the game.
I remember a deep hurt and sadness. And my foe, who was also my hero, romped and stomped all over his basement. He slapped my back a hundred times. I'm sure I cried. I don't know how I could have not cried. He was merciless. It didn't matter that I had him pinned and on the throwes of defeat only moments before. He had wriggled out and defeated me. And he was loudly declaring victory. I remember various postures of defeat...slumped head and shoulders, knees on the floor and head on the couch hidden by my arms. He was no idiot. He saw my brokenness yet he still celebrated. He was a warrior. And I was a baby warrior.

That memory no longer brings me pain. Probably because I exacted my revenge several different years since then. It was a give and take, tit for tat, blow for blow competitive relationship. I cherish it.

This year I watched our Iron Bowl without the Old Bull around. Sure there are others to fight with, but none that have earned my fear and my respect like him. My team played like I felt, heartless. We were crushed 36-0. I wince at the thought of what beating I would have received AFTER the game. And the following year. RW would have instantly forgotten the 6 previous years of my reign. He would have brashly declared that the rightful king has reclaimed his throne. I love that man, but I hated losing to him. I'd like to think that he has drawn more of my blood than any other in my life. I'd also like to think that I bruised him more than most.

Christmas Memories

This Christmas season I have thought a lot about those amazing Christmases in Memaw and PawPaws basement. I remember seeing what felt like 500 presents spanning from wall to wall! And I remember thanking them both after opening and PawPaw never knowing what exactly we got. I also remember him getting very excited about finding Andes mints in his stocking and passing them around for all to see! I remember his whoops and yelps and his tickles that HURT!!! (almost as much as the back slaps). I wish this year I could go back to being little and to sit in my Pawpaws lap again and have him tickle me so bad it hurts. To ask me when I was ever gonna like hugging ,and ask me what am I gonna do when I am older and my husband wants a hug. For him to ask me what exactly was that christmas present they gave me? I don't have any particular memories with only me and Pawpaw...but do any of you have any special christmas memories with him? 

I think one thing that has brought these memories on is seeing  Dustin Hoffman out there promoting his new movie. I have always thought that Pawpaw looked like Dustin...and seeing him on tv so much lately makes me think of my Pawpy. 

Hope you guys have a Merry Christmas!!!

Fall reminds me of RW

Every day as I drive around and see the beautiful colors I am reminded of Dad. I don't know anyone who loved nature like he did. He loved the fall leaves. He and mom often took trips to "see the leaves". Wonder if the leaves change in heaven.

There was one day when Dad came to my office and got me and said, come with me, I want to show you something. We drove a few miles away to the top of a hill where the most glorious tree was brilliant with color. It was literally glowing. It was such a display of God's awesome creation. Occasionally I pass that same tree now and it reminds me of my Dad. In fact everytime I see a magnificent colorful tree I remember my Dad.

Today I was pointing out beautiful trees to my grandson, Josiah. I hope he inherits this love of the turning of leaves and I hope he remembers how much MiMi loved the fall colors.

The tribe of Ralph Woerner

A new chapter is being written in the tribe of Ralph Woerner. As we accept the mantle that has been passed we have come together for a weekend of prayer and worship and family vision. It has been far better than anything I could imagine. I am in awe of how God is directing us and uniting us. He has definitely redeemed us in so many ways. Where we are as a family is only explained as a work of God. I am so excited to see where God will lead us and how he will allow us to partner with him. "His gift to us". What a priviledge. For those who are not able to be with us this weekend, we are praying for you also. God is doing something big in this family. I'm full of thankfulness and praise to our Lord, our redeemer. Thank you Dad for what you began in this family. God is continuing that work.

just one more

I've been thinking about RW a lot lately. Not really focused on anything in particular. Just thinking about him. Just looking at the finger print he left on my life. I find myself wandering back to this blog, or looking at pictures, or listening to the song we played at his funeral.
Just one more. Like when you reach for that one more piece of watermelon, when you shoulda stopped 3 pieces ago. Like when you tell yourself I'll just put one more cricket on the hook and drop it in one more time to see if I can get one more fish.
I'm not sure if I'm looking for anything in particular. Just wanting to hear his story again. One more time.

Father's Day

We are one week from Father's Day. I'm curious to hear from Ralph's girls. What is one of your favorite memories of RW as a daddy? What was a special moment when he touched your heart?

Let's go eat!

No doubt about it, RW loved to eat. Only a fool would step between that man and his plate. Of course, he wouldn't allow you to, because he ate with his face 4 inches from the plate.

My question is, what did he love to eat?
What are several things that you remember that Papaw loved to eat?
What was his favorite of all?

Famous Words

I would describe Papaw as a man who taught by his example not so much by his words of instruction. Obviously I'm not talking about scripture related teachings because he was stellar at using his words to teach God's ways. I'm talking more about life's lessons, principles, and unspoken laws of success. Example: I don't remember him specifically teaching me how to work hard with his words. He would just show me how to work hard by raking leaves like a crazy man.
So I find that I have learned more from Papaw by watching him, than by listening to him.
I'm curious, can you remember specific sayings, or lessons, or clear instruction from Papaw? Did he have some golden nuggets of success that he shared with you? What were some of the famous words that Papaw lived by, and also shared with you?

A few things

1) I always thought Sniff Sniff looked like Pawpaw. Also, I can't remember what sniff sniff would talk to us about. Can anybody help?

2) Once at Meems and Pepaws house, they were talking to me about when I was a little girl. Pawpaw was just sitting there staring at me and he suddenly says "You know, when you were little, I thought you were a retard child". I threw my pillow at him and said "PAWPAW!!!!" And he started laughing and said "Well, we couldn't get you to say anything. I thought you were retarded until one day you talked". NICE!!!

3) Richard- thanks for making this blog!! I didn't think Pawpaws death would effect me as greatly as it has. I have loved checking this blog numerous times a day. It's great to read what other people thought of him, remember stories, and just still have part of Pawpaw to take with me every day.

4) I GRADUATED!!!!!!!!!!!!! I wouldnt even have started college if Pawpaw hadn't given me money to pay for it, so thanks Pawpaw!!!!!!1

RW needed nature

I've been thinking about how RW loved nature. Looking back at some of my memories, I wonder if it was something deeper for him. If maybe nature was some kind of therapy for his intense life.

Most years on an afternoon during the fall he would take me driving around looking at leaves. I don't think he had any clue where he wanted to end up. He just kept following the pretty colors. Inevitably it would get too distracting and he'd pull the car over and we'd walk through the woods.

He is the only person I can remember teaching me about the different kind of birds. For my 12th birthday, he bought me a bird book to help me identify them. He often would walk outside the shop with me and we would play with the Killdeer.

I've watched him plant many a tomato and pepper plant.

In the deep part of summer, he could sit and listen to the Cicadas for hours.

Nature seemed to be Papaw's music. It seemed to do something for him. He acted like it was more than just enjoyment. He seemed to need it.

What was he thinking?

Before PawPaw's stroke, there was one question that we never had to wonder about - "what was PawPaw thinking?"  There was no mystery- he'd let ya know flat out what he was thinking and what his opinion was about a particular subject, even if it hurt your feelings a tad.  

In my adult years, I have really come to appreciate that quality in people.  I like to know that when I leave the conversation- the air is clear and everything was said.  I am glad PawPaw spoke his mind and gave us an opportunity to speak ours as well.  

I remember one time, in high school, I was really disappointed with a decision PawPaw made.  I decided to write him a letter and express my disappointment to him.  I had no idea how he would respond, all I knew was that in our relationship, he had given me enough confidence to speak my mind- even when I was expressing disagreement or hurt.  It wasn't long at all, when a letter arrived in our mailbox in response to mine.  I have to be honest and admit, it wasn't quite the response I was looking for.  I thought for sure he'd take my side :), but it was clear that he didn't.  I remember I shed a few tears as my pride was wounded and I was hurt, but the situation turned out so much better than I could have anticipated at that time and perhaps PawPaw had enough wisdom to see further into the future than I could with my selfish little high school brain.  

After PawPaw's strokes, one of the hardest things for me was how quiet PawPaw became.  The fierce communicator who spoke his mind to anyone, had become quiet and reserved.  No longer did I know what was churning in that mind of his- and that made me sad.

The most vivid memory I have of this was the summer I went to Mongolia.  The summer before my Senior year of college, I spent almost 6 weeks in Mongolia.  It was an INCREDIBLE time but boy was I glad to be returning home after being so far apart from family, with limited communication at times.  I had quite a long layover in Los Angeles before my last leg of the journey to B'ham.  I was sitting on my carry on, soon after deboarding the plane trying to get in touch with my mom to let her know that I had made it to L.A. when all of a sudden I heard a "SOMEBODY SHOUT HALLELUJAH!"  I looked up and was absolutely stunned to see my dad walking toward me!  I just burst into tears and couldn't even speak.  I hadn't been in America more than 1 hour when I was wrapped in the loving arms of my dad.  He had used his sky miles to fly out to L.A. just to meet me at the airport and fly back with me.  We had an overnight flight and were scheduled to arrive in Bham early the next morning.  My mom and Memaw planned to have a breakfast at Memaw and Pawpaw's on the way home from the airport and all the family that was in town at the time came.  It was an awesome reception and they wanted to hear about what I thought when I saw my dad show up at the L.A. airport. 

 As I was telling the story, I looked down to the head of the table at my precious PawPaw, and there were tears streaming down his face.  In that moment, I was overwhelmed with an intense feeling of love for him-  I will NEVER forget that moment for as long as I live.  Although he spoke no words- the tears I saw communicated a million things to me.  I felt like I saw a glimpse of his heart- his sweet, tender, loving, compassionate, family- oriented heart. Although I will never know for sure what he was thinking- I like to imagine I know and it makes me love my Pawpaw even more.