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
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
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.
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.
Monday, December 22, 2008
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!!!
Thursday, November 6, 2008
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.
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.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
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.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
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.
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.
Sunday, June 8, 2008
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?
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