Daddy's Day

Life Lessons I learned from my Daddy:

1) Work hard and work long until the job is done.  And do it right!
I literally grew up a farmer's daughter.  On a regular basis we had dairy cattle, stock cattle, pigs and chickens.  At various times I recall having a couple of horses and a goat.  Over the span of 60 plus years, Daddy grew and harvested crops of cotton, peanuts, grain, hay, soybeans, sugar cane, field corn….just to name a few.  Farmers hours are sun-up to sun-down.  And sometimes a farmer is called upon in the darkest of hours should a Mama cow come into distress while trying to give birth.

2) It's best not to buy anything 'on time' (Daddy's word for 'credit').
Daddy bought very little 'on time'.  And if he did, he paid it off as quickly as possible.  I'll never forget the first time I realized Daddy paid cash for a 'pick-up' truck.  I was shocked.  Even though, at that time, it cost all of about $2,500 to buy a new Ford F100 'pick-up' truck, $2,500 was, and still is, a lot of money.

3) Take care of what you have and make it last - whether new or old.
I do believe Daddy's favorite piece of equipment was a grease gun.   If a piece of farm equipment had a 'grease nozzle', you can rest assured Daddy pumped grease into that nozzle until it seeped out through the joints.  Daddy bought grease by the 5 gallon bucket - he was serious about keeping his equipment well greased and in good working order.

The scariest moment I had with my Daddy:

I was about 12-13 years old and my Mama had to leave for a few days, leaving me and Daddy on our own.  It was during the summer months and I was not in school.  On this particular day, Daddy was in the hayfield bailing hay and I was at home.   Daddy only came in from the field if something broke or if it was time to eat.  Daddy drove up about mid-morning which lead me to believe - something broke.  He walked in the back door of the house into the kitchen and to this day I still have this very clear & vivid picture in my mind of  Daddy standing in the kitchen and all he had on was a shirt, ONLY the bib of his overalls and his boxer shorts.  He had somewhat of an amused look on his face, but by the time he finished telling me what happened, there was no amusement on my face - only fear and the realization that Daddy could have easily been killed that day.

Let me set the stage -  Daddy was bailing hay and was by himself in the field.  The hay bailer gathered the hay from the ground, pushed it into the bailer, compacted it, wrapped a piece of twine around the bail (a bail was about 4 feet long and 2 feet high) and then 'shot it' out the back of the bailer onto the ground.  The hay bailer was pulled and powered by Daddy's John Deere Tractor.  The tractor had a 'power take off' (PTO) which is a drive shaft at the the back of the tractor that attaches to equipment so that the equipment can pull it's power to run from the tractor.  Imagine a cylinder about 1 1/2 feet long, 4-5 inches in diameter, and when engaged spins so fast it looks like it's not moving.  For obvious safety reasons, the PTO is supposed to have a shield over it.

What happened:  Yes, Daddy took care of his equipment and he made it last…..but sometimes that meant improvising.  First, the hay bailer periodically would 'skip' a bail - meaning the twine would loosen up and fail to tie off the bail properly.  Second, remember I said the PTO on a tractor is supposed to have a shield over it - well there was no shield on the PTO on Daddy's tractor.  SOOOO, because the the hay bailer 'skipped' bails periodically, as Daddy drove the tractor down the hay row he sat half-cocked on the seat of the tractor with one eye on the hay bailer.  Daddy could tell when the twine was loosening and as soon as he could spot it loosening he would throw the tractor out of gear, jump off the back of the tractor, tighten the twine, climb back on the tractor and proceed on.  One of those particular times he jumped off the back of the tractor, the bottom of his pants leg of his overalls got caught in the PTO and immediately started winding his overalls around and around the shaft that was spinning multiple turns per second.  Daddy couldn't reach the lever to disengage the PTO.  What saved him?  The fact that he had on a very OLD pair of overalls and eventually the PTO literally ripped his overalls off of him from the bottom of the bib down.  But not before his leg and hip had been pulled up against the PTO causing severe burns, abrasions and bruising, but miraculously nothing broken.

Memorable moments with my Daddy:

There are several but a couple that stand to the fore front are:

*Seeing my Daddy sitting with my 2 year old daughter at her child sized picnic table, which she had set complete with her plates and cups ready to serve her Papaw a meal, and MY Daddy had on Mickey Mouse ears.

*The first and only time my Daddy said the words "I love you" to me.  He was in a hospital bed after having a heart attack - I was 25 years old.


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Daddy has been gone from this world 18 years.  He left behind a legacy of integrity and a strong work ethic instilled in many.  Yet, behind that farmer's integrity, strong work ethic, and farmer's 'tan', was a man who loved his family.    And Daddy, your family loved you!  Happy 'Daddy's' Day!!

Mama's Hands

It's Mother's Day weekend.   As the saying goes "Not everyone is a Mom, but everyone had a Mom".

I'm doubly blessed as I am also a Mom.  However, almost 5 years ago,  I became a mom-in-law and  2 1/2 years ago I joined the world of grandparenting - so one might say I am quadruply blessed.  Regardless of how you count, I am thankful that God allows me the privilege and honor to fill all these 'mom' roles.

This is the 8th Mother's Day without my Mama on this side of Heaven.   I don't just miss her on Mother's Day, I miss her EVERY day.  There is not a day goes by she does not come to my mind - by something that is said, something that is remembered, a smell….there is always something.

Mama was number 6 of 8 children and was only 5 years old when her own Mom died.  Mama grew up around Stratford, OK (as did my Daddy). My Daddy told me one time that the first time he saw my Mama he thought she was the prettiest girl he had ever seen.  He married that pretty girl in 1940.  Together they raised 4 girls, an abundance of cows, chickens, pigs, gardens, hay, cotton, peanuts, cats, dogs, and a host of other farm related animals and crops over a span of 50 plus years.  In addition, for the most of those 50 years, they also had a dairy and sold the milk to Kraft for the making of cheese (FYI - this kind of dairy operation is totally unheard of today).  I grew up drinking raw milk, eating real butter made from raw milk, eating eggs from farm raised chickens, eating farm raised beef and chickens, and eating vegetables from the yearly plentiful garden.   Not to mention all the watermelons and cantaloupes that were grown as well!  I grew up organically - it's just that, at the time, the word 'organic' wasn't a 'buzz' word related to how you ate;  it was a way of life!

(Not to overlook nor understate the importance of my Daddy, but today is focused on Mama.  Father's Day is coming soon :).

Aside from working all the daily farm and dairy related chores (which by the way, milk cows don't know about vacations), Mama cooked 3 full meals a day (everything made from scratch),  kept a household going, and in her spare time she sewed.  And she sewed beautifully; whether it was clothes you wore or quilts that were made to keep you warm.  (Someday maybe I'll tell you about the feedsack quilts and dresses. Feedsacks weren't always paper - when I was growing up they were cloth.)

I never really began to fully appreciate how hard my Mama worked, how much she sacrificially gave, how much she unconditionally loved her family, until I was married and became a Mom myself.  And the older I get, the more appreciative (and humbled) I become and the more I love my Mama.  In no way am I attempting to try to compare myself to my own Mama - I'll never measure up.  My precious Mama, this beloved Mamaw to her grand and great grandchildren, the mother-in-law who knew no difference between her own children/grandchildren and their spouses, loved, I mean LOVED her family.  Until the day she died at 90 years young - she loved and continually nurtured her family.  Mama was the encourager.  Mama was the one who prayed for her family daily and directed our paths to find God in everything.  Mama was the one who made sure we were never hungry and always clothed.  Mama was the one who showed us how to love unconditionally.  Mama was the one who unselfishly and with 'til death do us part and in sickness and in health love' took care of my Daddy's every need 24/7 (after having a stroke) the last 5 years of his life on earth.  Mama had your favorite pie made every time you walked through her door.  Mama could say more in one sentence, or with just a look, than most people can attempt to speak in a whole paragraph.  Mama was the true definition of love and God's living Grace.

Years ago I came across this poem, and the first time I read it I was astounded - it WAS, and still is, my Mama:

Mama's Hands

I saw you hide your hands in line,

behind that lady fair,

I noticed too, hers soft and white--

immaculate from care.

But Ma, I say, it's no disgrace

to have workin' hands like you,

and had she lived the life you have,

she'd have hands just like it too.

But her hands have never hauled in wood,

or worked in God's good earth.

They've never felt the bitter cold,

or chopped ice for waitin' stock,

they've never doctored sick ones,

or dressed a horse's hock.

They've nver pulled a hip-locked calf,

or packed water to the barn

They've probably never patched blue jeans,

or had worn ol' socks to darn.

They've never touched a young-n,

or caressed a fevered head,

with hands so gently folded,

all night beside his bed.

They've never scrubbed a kitchen floor,

or done dishes every day.

They've never guided with those hands

a child who's lost the way.

They've never made a Christmas gift,

shaped by a lovin' hand.

They've never peeled apples,

nor vegetables they've canned.

They've never worn a blister,

or had calluses to show,

for all they've done for others,

and the kindnesses I know.

So you see, my dearest Mama--

yours are hands of love.

And I bet the Lord will notice

when he greets you from above.

Tommi Jo Casteel

After occupying this earth for 90 years and 15 days, the Lord greeted my Mama on April 2, 2007.  And I know without a shadow of a doubt as He took and held her hand, He told her He had never seen more beautiful hands.

Happy Mother's Day Mama!  You are missed and you are loved!

WELCOME!

Welcome to my first attempt at blogging.  I don't know if this is still the case or not, but when I went to college you had a major degree and a minor degree.  Many know that my 'major' degree is in Business Education.  What many may not know is that my 'minor' degree is in journalism.  With that said, I may be about to put that 'minor' degree to work and show my hidden talents, or I may be about to reveal those 30 hours spent obtaining that journalism minor were wasted hours. 



THE WEEK AFTER EASTER.

This time last week we were reflecting upon the death, burial and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Over a period of a few weeks,  Jesus was crucified, buried, rose from the grave and ascended into heaven.  Did we stop there?  Did our celebration end with the last chorus of the Alleluia's we sang at church?  Did our celebration end as we washed, dried, and put away the last of the dishes from Easter lunch?  Did we get up on Monday morning after Easter and continue our lives as 'usual'? 

OR did we recognize that our celebration was just beginning!!

(Before I go further, this is my premise:    Becoming a Christian means believing in God; believing in the birth, death, burial and resurrection of Jesus Christ,  acknowledging that we all have sinned and fallen short of God's glory,  and asking Jesus into our hearts for forgiveness and salvation.   That being said, there are "Christians" and then there are "Christians who have a daily walk and relationship with God - who are sanctified in Christ"). 

It's easy, I think, to be a Christian during the holiday seasons of Christmas and Easter.   It's almost like we dust off our "I'm a Christian badge" and wear it proudly and boldly.  But what about all those days 'in between'.  Do we continue to wear our "Christian badge", do we continue to acknowledge the existence of God in our lives, do we look for and seize the opportunities we're given to share God with those who found no reason to celebrate Easter other than to hunt eggs (and I'm not anti Easter Egg hunting),  are we "Bold in our Faith" 365 days of the year?  Are we a 'Christian' or a 'Christian with an ongoing relationship with God' and a story to share?   

I'll go first - as much as I want to tell you a resounding "YES!" to all those questions, I can't.  Although my answer is definitely not 'no', it's only a strong 'mostly'.   Psalm 119:11 says "I have hidden your word in my heart that I might not sin against you."  I don't believe the Psalmist meant for me (us) to literally 'hide' God in our heart, but I sometimes do.  However, as the old cliche goes "God's not finished with me yet" and the older I get the closer I get to changing my answer to a resounding "YES!"  I try to be alert for opportunities God puts in front of me to share about His grace in my life.  

We ended our Church Easter Worship service with a praise song by Chris Tomlin.  As the chorus goes "How Can I Keep From Singing Your Praise.....I Know I Am Loved by the King,  And it makes my Heart want to SING!"

I want to Sing - because I am loved by the King!!

If you aren't already, I invite you to SING!