Lake Martin. Alabama. The sun rose over the distant tree line. The sky changed from pink sorbet to the same blue as my aunt’s ‘62 Eldorado, a car roughly the size of a Waffle House. I heard a common loon. The birdsong bounced off the smooth water, and I was all smiles.
Of all the things you've written about your father, this is one of the most poignant. He was proud of you. No matter what you'd done, hadn't done, failed at or wished you had done differently, he was proud of you, loved you. It's in your voice, in your words, in your song. You were a lucky boy. I would love to have had a father like that. What he did was incomprehensible. A violation of trust and love and sanity and everything that all of us believe. Unlike you, I would've been relieved if mine had done what your's did. Isn't that sad. Karma is a bitch. But this isn't about me. This is about you and that damned haunting loon. Incredible sound. It will tear your heart out, but you'll feel as if it's given your heart back.
An absolute masterpiece. Perhaps your best yet on my scale. I'm 53 years removed from being 9 years old again and hoping this is what heaven will be like...
What a beautiful sentiment at the end, because of course, your father did feel like he was going home and leaving pain behind at the end. It's good that you still remember and enjoy in your memories the loving parts of your life. It's too bad he left you so suddenly. The desperation of those who commit suicide is unknown and not understood by those left behind. And to me the saddest part is they don't realize that while they are no longer desperate the families left behind suffer unbearable pain. You, Sean, however, can continue to see the good in your father and the good times you had. Those are the memories that you will continue to carry with you. Appreciate them and know that God has helped you heal and recover from the pain.
I often wonder what it’s like when God calls family members and friends Home. And the one thing I think about the most is….did anyone have a fear of dying.
There’s a beautiful hymn we sing, especially for funerals, and it always brings me peace…
🎶 “Be not afraid, I go before you. Come follow Me, and I will give you rest.”🎵
My Dad wasn’t scared. He knew where he was going and who was waiting. I can’t say for sure he felt that way his whole life but I know he did the last 6 months of it and that’s why I don’t fear it either. On my dad’s stone it says Come to me those who are heavy laden and I will give you rest. Which is close to the hymn you posted. The song that mostly makes me think of my dad and rips out my heart every time it comes on is “Hell of an Amen” by Brantley Gilbert. It says: Doctor said he ain't got long
He just smiled and said "Bring it on
Well, if you think I'm scared
You got me all wrong"
"No, a little cancer can't break me
My heart's right and I believe"
We all hit our knees
And started prayin'
Lord, he never gave up
Just said, "The good Lord's waitin'". And that was my Dad 💯
That’s very beautiful, Chastity❣️There’s a verse in my hymn that reminds me of the Beatitudes…
🎶 “Blessed are your poor, for the Kingdom shall be theirs. Blest are you that weep and mourn, for one day you shall laugh. And if wicked tongues insult and hate you all because of Me, Blessed, Blessed are you!
Be not afraid, I go before you always. Come follow Me, and I will give you rest.”🎵 💜✝️💜
Indeed, Brandi, hospice people are angels on earth. ❤️. Folks, pls call on these people in your community for help if you have a loved one with a terminal issue. They are a blessing to the patient AND family as death approaches.
I made sure my kids had that type of childhood even with the introduction of video games. I made them go outside, ride bikes, explore the woods. I knew it was important and a rite of passage.
Our MeMaw's field holler had a range of two miles.
We had ten minutes to get home, it could be done on a bike, even on gravel roads.
All this, playing outside until dark, messing around at the lake, getting indescribably filthy, filled with joy.
My two brothers would have pee battles, one of the events they claim not to remember.
Biscuits or cornbread, both on Sundays when there were more folks to feed. Rice and mashed potatoes, always gravy. Butterbeans and carrots. Meatloaf. She could stretch food to fill everyone. She could feed ten people from one chicken the way that she cut it up. When chicken went to .19 cents a pound, she grieved out loud that we wouldn't be able to eat chicken no more but we did. Both kinds of pickles. Two kinds of jelly. Her cooking made us feel both loved and rich.
Today's food prices would dismay her. That comes from having lived through a World War, then the Depression, then another World War.
The eldest of eleven, the second Mama to her siblings.
Oh, those were good ole days. Building forts with my buddies in the woods; playing in the creek with my uncle - a year younger than me, riding bikes down big hills holding our feet out, running through the big 8' tin horns that went under the road, sitting on top of the ice cream freezer while my dad cranked it till it was ready to set, and running through the sprinkler in the back yard. Those days could've lasted forever, and I thought they would. How could 7th grade change things so quickly? My voice started changing. We moved to a new town. Pimples sprung up every morning. School was completely different. Change was coming fast.
An excellent hear felt piece! That is way we lived and grew up. It was during WWII days and we were riding pine saplings down into the creek or fighting in foxholes in our dug up yard without a blade of grass anywhere. I can still hear Mrs. Tence K. calling in that long drawn out way, Leeee Rooooyy . Your article takes me back to my growing up years, there was nothing but joy being a kid. Wish times were still like that.
Thank you so much for the memories of childhood being lived outdoors! After breakfast, we were sent out until lunch. Sent back out after… fireflies to catch after dinner in pj’s… sad that most of the current, up coming generation will not get to experience those things. God bless you Sean! Your memories serve us all ❤️ including your dad!
You an I grew up in similar times. Me in Mobile. Your memory of Swanson dinners is hilarious because it’s so true. The apple cobbler was like boiling magma.
Achingly beautiful. You’ll feel like a kid the rest of your life, Sean. Some of the memories may fade but you’ll still feel like a kid even with gray hair and wrinkled eyes. Just don’t look in the mirror too much and you’ll be fine.
Of all the things you've written about your father, this is one of the most poignant. He was proud of you. No matter what you'd done, hadn't done, failed at or wished you had done differently, he was proud of you, loved you. It's in your voice, in your words, in your song. You were a lucky boy. I would love to have had a father like that. What he did was incomprehensible. A violation of trust and love and sanity and everything that all of us believe. Unlike you, I would've been relieved if mine had done what your's did. Isn't that sad. Karma is a bitch. But this isn't about me. This is about you and that damned haunting loon. Incredible sound. It will tear your heart out, but you'll feel as if it's given your heart back.
Everything you said, Te Burt.
Yes.
Beautifully accurate and spoke.
Sorry dear
An absolute masterpiece. Perhaps your best yet on my scale. I'm 53 years removed from being 9 years old again and hoping this is what heaven will be like...
What a beautiful sentiment at the end, because of course, your father did feel like he was going home and leaving pain behind at the end. It's good that you still remember and enjoy in your memories the loving parts of your life. It's too bad he left you so suddenly. The desperation of those who commit suicide is unknown and not understood by those left behind. And to me the saddest part is they don't realize that while they are no longer desperate the families left behind suffer unbearable pain. You, Sean, however, can continue to see the good in your father and the good times you had. Those are the memories that you will continue to carry with you. Appreciate them and know that God has helped you heal and recover from the pain.
I often wonder what it’s like when God calls family members and friends Home. And the one thing I think about the most is….did anyone have a fear of dying.
There’s a beautiful hymn we sing, especially for funerals, and it always brings me peace…
🎶 “Be not afraid, I go before you. Come follow Me, and I will give you rest.”🎵
So no one ever dies alone.
My Dad wasn’t scared. He knew where he was going and who was waiting. I can’t say for sure he felt that way his whole life but I know he did the last 6 months of it and that’s why I don’t fear it either. On my dad’s stone it says Come to me those who are heavy laden and I will give you rest. Which is close to the hymn you posted. The song that mostly makes me think of my dad and rips out my heart every time it comes on is “Hell of an Amen” by Brantley Gilbert. It says: Doctor said he ain't got long
He just smiled and said "Bring it on
Well, if you think I'm scared
You got me all wrong"
"No, a little cancer can't break me
My heart's right and I believe"
We all hit our knees
And started prayin'
Lord, he never gave up
Just said, "The good Lord's waitin'". And that was my Dad 💯
That’s very beautiful, Chastity❣️There’s a verse in my hymn that reminds me of the Beatitudes…
🎶 “Blessed are your poor, for the Kingdom shall be theirs. Blest are you that weep and mourn, for one day you shall laugh. And if wicked tongues insult and hate you all because of Me, Blessed, Blessed are you!
Be not afraid, I go before you always. Come follow Me, and I will give you rest.”🎵 💜✝️💜
There is a wonderful hospice nurse on Instagram who has covered dying and fear. Julie McFadden aka hospicenursejulie.
I’m going to look her up. I worked at a hospice company several years ago. Such a blessing, hospice services.
Indeed, Brandi, hospice people are angels on earth. ❤️. Folks, pls call on these people in your community for help if you have a loved one with a terminal issue. They are a blessing to the patient AND family as death approaches.
There is a shadow in the valley of death…..meaning there is a light source with us….Psalm 23:4
Sean has painted a wonderful picture of a child's life that unfortunately, children today will never know. "Thanks for the Memories."
I made sure my kids had that type of childhood even with the introduction of video games. I made them go outside, ride bikes, explore the woods. I knew it was important and a rite of passage.
True, Allegra. And sad.
Our MeMaw's field holler had a range of two miles.
We had ten minutes to get home, it could be done on a bike, even on gravel roads.
All this, playing outside until dark, messing around at the lake, getting indescribably filthy, filled with joy.
My two brothers would have pee battles, one of the events they claim not to remember.
Biscuits or cornbread, both on Sundays when there were more folks to feed. Rice and mashed potatoes, always gravy. Butterbeans and carrots. Meatloaf. She could stretch food to fill everyone. She could feed ten people from one chicken the way that she cut it up. When chicken went to .19 cents a pound, she grieved out loud that we wouldn't be able to eat chicken no more but we did. Both kinds of pickles. Two kinds of jelly. Her cooking made us feel both loved and rich.
Today's food prices would dismay her. That comes from having lived through a World War, then the Depression, then another World War.
The eldest of eleven, the second Mama to her siblings.
Missing her since 1990.
I don’t know that they even know how to make mommas like that anymore. What a blessing to hear about yours.
I think that’s exactly how he felt!
Oh, those were good ole days. Building forts with my buddies in the woods; playing in the creek with my uncle - a year younger than me, riding bikes down big hills holding our feet out, running through the big 8' tin horns that went under the road, sitting on top of the ice cream freezer while my dad cranked it till it was ready to set, and running through the sprinkler in the back yard. Those days could've lasted forever, and I thought they would. How could 7th grade change things so quickly? My voice started changing. We moved to a new town. Pimples sprung up every morning. School was completely different. Change was coming fast.
Life itself does, sometimes unfortunately, change rapidly.
Thanks for the memories.💕
An excellent hear felt piece! That is way we lived and grew up. It was during WWII days and we were riding pine saplings down into the creek or fighting in foxholes in our dug up yard without a blade of grass anywhere. I can still hear Mrs. Tence K. calling in that long drawn out way, Leeee Rooooyy . Your article takes me back to my growing up years, there was nothing but joy being a kid. Wish times were still like that.
This takes me straight back to my childhood. I felt every moment of it! And I know that’s how your daddy felt when God called him home.
Thank you so much for the memories of childhood being lived outdoors! After breakfast, we were sent out until lunch. Sent back out after… fireflies to catch after dinner in pj’s… sad that most of the current, up coming generation will not get to experience those things. God bless you Sean! Your memories serve us all ❤️ including your dad!
You an I grew up in similar times. Me in Mobile. Your memory of Swanson dinners is hilarious because it’s so true. The apple cobbler was like boiling magma.
I agree! 😂
Achingly beautiful. You’ll feel like a kid the rest of your life, Sean. Some of the memories may fade but you’ll still feel like a kid even with gray hair and wrinkled eyes. Just don’t look in the mirror too much and you’ll be fine.
I was born in 1945 in east Alabama so I feel the nostalgia ! What would grown ups do without those memories !
What I do, unfortunately, is grieve that those times are forever gone.
May you always be able to catch a firefly……
Sounds like my childhood. Beautiful.
This is beautiful!