Happy Father's Day

Today is Father's Day.  

Like so many (and especially my siblings) I think I had the very best when it comes to fathers.

The second son of Ted and Lonnie, Earl Huffingham loved God, Golf, the Gators, and Iva Louise Nesmith.  They were married for 67 years before his passing in 2009 and in my unsubstantiated imagination, I like to think that he was waiting for her when she went to Heaven almost a year ago.

In fact, my daughter's words to her: "It's time for you to be with granddaddy" and our thinking that daddy met her at Heaven's gates with: "What took you so long?" reflect the way that all who knew our daddy knew how much he loved our mother.

I've heard that's the best thing a man can do for his children - love their mother - and our daddy was quite successful.

So much so that I went into marriage "expecting that".

That didn't happen for me.

But my children got something - if not better - at least something that helped them as they were growing up.

When we ended up in Jacksonville in 1982 I was exhausted.  Fortunately, we were welcomed by my family which included some good male role models, daddy, of course, being the most prominent. For the next 13 years, I raised my children with their help,  And even after Tray turned 18 and was off to college, those men remained their role models.  Many of them are still in the three Parker children's lives.

There were other men too - coaches, teachers, youth pastors, the fathers of some of their friends, and some of the friends I made along the way.

And I am not going to discount the fact that they are the children of  Ray Parker.  Those children would not be who they are without him.  Their lives would not be what they are today without him.

And so, in spite of the pain and disappointment that I experienced, I am grateful.

I didn't get to give my children the daddy that I had.  But because of the daddy they had - their lives are truly blessed.

They are not perfect although - I mean really "Have you met my children?"

And the way I see it - the fathers in my little family, Dale, Wally, and Tray, are doing just what my daddy did - Dale loves Becca, Wally loves Renee, and Tray loves Kristen. 

My grandchildren are experiencing what I did and I am truly grateful.

May you have enough sunshine in your life

To make you appreciate the shadows

Our Patriotic Patriarch

 Memorial Day is a pretty special day.

      Earl Huffingham was very patriotic. He was the first young man from their community to enlist after Pearl Harbor and was in the Pacific for 43 months. He was in the Army Air Corps. That meant he was a little bit army and a little bit air force. The photo to the right is of one of the few lasting mementos of daddy's life during World War II. The American flag sits atop a base that holds a uniform patch.  The words: "38th Air Engineering Squadron - WT Maintyun".  I have no idea what that means but  I can tell you that he never lost that keen spirit of patriotism and our family and friends have agreed that he really was a part of what Tom Brokaw said was "The Greatest Generation". And in the early '90's our family hosted his squadron for a reunion.  Daddy loved it and so did we!!!

   Even at the end of his life, daddy always wanted to be sure that mother or I had put the flag out - especially on a day like Memorial Day.  Now my flag is always out - even at night- with a light shining on it.

   I went to the World War II Memorial in Washington DC in 2005 and when I returned home, daddy was really filled with questions. I remember that he said if he ever got a chance to go, he was going.

   So, when he read about the Orange Park Rotary-sponsored trip for World War II veterans, he wasted no time at all checking it out. His trip would be paid for. He just needed to have a "chaperone".

   My son, Tray, who is daddy's #3 grandson, was all over that. He would love to go. He has inherited a lot of that same patriotic spirit that was a big part of daddy's life. Chad and Brad (grandsons #1 and 2 respectively) also share that spirit and all three of them have spent time serving our country.

    Daddy was so excited as they planned their trip. He supposed he might be the oldest person traveling (he wasn't) and was peeved as he waited for Tray to arrive for the ride to Orange Park High School. My mother and I rode over for the pre-trip meeting and were there as they boarded the buses headed to JIA.

     When they arrived in DC, they were surprised when Chad and Brad arrived. Daddy was thrilled. All of his "soldier boys" were with him to honor him and his comrades. It truly was a day that none of them would forget.

     Tray called me several times during the day to give me a report. He would start to tell me something and get choked up. He would say, "I'll have to tell you that in a minute, mom". It would be when they got home that night, daddy a whipped puppy, but with a beaming smile, before Tray could tell me what he had been trying to say all day.

   "Here granddaddy was in a wheelchair", he said. "And every time a band would strike up that song - you know the one that features all the branches of the service...when they got to granddaddy's part, he stood up".

   I didn't see this happen and yet I know exactly how it must have been. I can just see him. I know about the effort involved and the importance of this experience.  That was 15 years ago.  This is our 14th year celebrating Memorial Day without our patriotic patriarch. The flag is flying and we have no doubt about what daddy would do when he heard this https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zudFEvTj9H0.

May you have enough sunshine in your life

To make you appreciate the shadows

Not what I wanted to read. . .

I heard the sound indicating a text.

It was from my friend Tamra.

Oh good I thought - she's texting to plan a time for breakfast.  It had been way too long since our last visit.

I have read that a person usually has five close friends in their life.  I have several groups of friends...people I have met through church or work or through some shared interest.  Some time ago I determined that I have one special group.  I call them "my group of five" and  I am proud and blessed to say that Tamra is one of my five!

"Pray for Brian,  He's been admitted. . .", and then a few words about what was going on with her sweet husband.

"Oh my, 🙏🙏🙏".

We stayed in touch every day that week.  I wore a prayer bracelet that Tamra gave me when I was going through a sad time in my life.  On Wednesday he was a little better - baby steps she said.  And then on Thursday morning  - "so many things are wrong.  He's now critical". And around 8:30 that night "Brian passed a little past eight".

I have met Brian only a few times but I feel that I know him well.

That's because I know his wife very well.   

Tamra and I became friends when we were both in an Administrative Professionals Group. She's that person who I always know it's okay to be silly with.  And silly we were.  We had way too much time in that group -  just being goofy.

We've been friends through the births of grandbabies, the death of parents, and changing jobs (hers, mine, and even Brian's).  When her son, David married Olivia I had the honor of sitting next to her at their reception.  When David and Olivia's children were born, I shared her joy.

This week I sat in the congregation listening as their pastor, two of Brian's closest friends and David told fun and dear stories about him.

I'm sad.  Sad for Tamra, David and Olivia, and their precious children.   And I feel a great sense of personal loss.

But I'm glad.

I'm glad that if for no other reason, I had the privilege of knowing Brian.  There were tears on my cheeks as the photos flashed across the screen. I wasn't there when those pictures were taken, but I have heard the stories of the way Brian loved - Tamra and their family. I felt a deep sense of gratitude. 

As I reflected on David's words: sorrow, love, anger - and back again, I thought of how the Brian I knew (through Tamra and the words of those who spoke), practiced exhibiting the fruit of the Spirit (Galatians 5:22-23). He loved.  He was a man of peace.  He was kind and good and gentle.

And he would want his life (as the obituary read) "to inspire those he has left to live life in a way that is defined by laughter, love, loyalty, and kindness.

So the text didn't say what I hoped it would.

But there will be other times for Tamra and I to get together. And I will love to hear more about Brian's life and legacy                                               

                                                May your life have enough sunshine,        

                                                To make you appreciate the shadows

Is that in the Bible???

When our mother's life on earth ended around 9 PM on Tuesday, July 5, 2022, we had not the first doubt in our minds.

She had gone from "here to there" as Granddaddy Nesmith called the death of a saint.  Renee had spoken words like you have fought the fight; you have kept the faith and - "Grandma it's time to go". And she is now "dwelling in the house of the Lord".  And we knew exactly what to have inscribed on her marker "Absent from the body; Present with the Lord" (and, of course, daddy).

As Cindy, Lester and I reflect on our mother's life - on this our first Mother's Day without her we are all remembering what she taught us. 

Iva Louise Nesmith Huffingham was an incredible woman with a deep faith and an abiding love for our daddy and the family they made together.  She created an atmosphere of love and acceptance. We knew what was important - God, daddy, us and extended family, and then the myriad of friends - hers and ours - that continued to gain a piece of her heart - right up until the end.

Cindy said she taught us to love - even when it is sometimes not easy.  Jonathan is not here to tell us what might have been important to him but I think it's pretty close to what Cindy said. . . 

We think Jonathan would say -  unconditional love!

Lester said she taught him the value of faith and that "all things work together for good. . .", (Romans 8:28).

If we heard that verse one time. . . 

More than once I asked, 

"Where is that in the Bible?"  

Writing this has been a challenge.  I believe it's because it's our first Mother's Day without her. 

Most people know I am very vain about my hair.  Growing up. I would get bent out of shape when it wouldn't do what I wanted it to do.

My mother taught me to put the hairbrush down - to walk away - to find something else to do -- maybe even wipe the sink of the strands of hair that could so easily clog the drain.

Hum - "Is that in the Bible?"

Well "not being vain" certainly is there as is patience - and "a woman's hair is her crowing glory".

Okay to be sure that I was giving due diligence to my last statement, I did the research and found Ecclesiastes 1:2, Psalm 37:7, and several verses that imply what I said about a woman's hair. (for instance,  I Corinthians 11:15 and Proverbs 16:31).

But back to what this might have taught me - about writing this blog.

It has taken me three days.  I have written it over and again.  I have obviously put it down - found another project and come back to it. My mother taught me to wait for the right time!!!

So, the four of us have learned to wait, love, accept, and to know that "all things work together for good". At least that's what she taught us!

                                                May your life have enough sunshine,             

                                                To make you appreciate the shadows 

Getting "over it"

Perhaps someone has given you this advice. . .

. . .like we are going to forget.

You've been married to your high school sweetheart for 67 years; shared joys and sorrows; seen him go off to war; come home and the two of you have been blessed with four children, 11 grands, and a passel of great grands.  You have worked and played and served.  You have cared for him as his life ebbed away...

You have been married over 70 years; or 65 or 53 -- or less than a year.

And that person is gone.

"You have to get over it", you hear - again and again.

Yeah right.

Or you are a 16-year-old boy with a younger sister and brother and suddenly you learn that your mother has a tumor on her brain = and only a few months later your dad awakens you to tell you that she died during the night and as you slept he had called the funeral home to take your mother's body away.

Or the four-year-old grandchild that you have enjoyed and loved and watched and laughed with is suddenly snatched from your family

Or even you are almost 75 and your mother is on the way to her 100th birthday and you know her life has been one of service and love for the Lord and you listen as her granddaughter prays her into Heaven.

And in all of these cases you wonder - what do people mean when they say "get over it" or a more common phrase today - find closure.

Do you find another mate?  Do you get a hobby?  Do you sit by the river and watch as it ebbs and flows??? You certainly can't get a new mother.

When Ray Parker and I divorced almost 40 years ago, people asked "do you think you will remarry?", and I often shook my head -- probably not.  When Rich Suhey died and I was asked the same question my answer was usually yes.  In the less than a year that we were married we had lots of fun.  I hoped that would happen again.  

But for me, it did not.  Does that mean I never got over losing Rich?

I can tell you it was a difficult experience - for me - I lost the dreams Rich and I had for the future we planned to share.

Have I found closure at the loss of my mother last summer?

Does the fact that there is one outfit that my mother loved is still hanging in my guestroom closet mean I haven't found closure. 

Well here's what I really think.  I hope I never totally get over losing Rich.  I hope the memories we shared will always be precious.  And I hope that somewhere there's a lady who will wear that outfit and look just as pretty in it as my mother did.

I spend a lot of time with people who suffered great loss.  I make an effort to walk alongside them and feel their pain.

I will never ask my sister to "not remember her sweet Blakely", nor my aunts to not remember their mates or children who have died.  And my many friends who have lost their life-long partners - they have to walk through each day - with the memories.

The 16-year-old boy was my high school boyfriend.  Every now and then we chat and remember the sadness of his mother's death.  He loved my mother and she loved him.  In truth, I don't think either one of them ever got over losing the other.  But she could not take his mother's place.

Nor can anyone take hers in my life -

But I do have some advice.  Don't push it.  Keep remembering.  Let your friends share your grief.  And most of all -- let your friends love you.

                                                May your life have enough sunshine,                                                                                                     To make you appreciate the shadows

I heard what he was saying

The fog was beginning to lift.

The year - 1984.  My children and I were getting accustomed to the life of a single family.  This was not the way that my life was supposed to be.  I was born to be a "preacher's wife".  That was gone.  I was a divorced mother of three who lived in what we called the Huffingham family compound.

Most of the time it was like the Waltons.  We all loved and lifted each other up.

However, there were still those days when I felt defeated. 

And then I heard a preacher named Tony Campolo.  He actually was quoting S. M. Lockridge

"It's Friday, but Sunday's coming"

   “It’s Friday - Jesus is praying - Peter’s sleeping - Judas is betraying - But Sunday’s comin'. It’s Friday - Pilate’s struggling - The council is conspiring - The crowd is vilifying - They don’t even know - That Sunday’s comin.   It’s Friday - The disciples are running like sheep without a shepherd - Mary’s crying - Peter is denying - but they don’t know - That Sunday’s a comin.

Later I read Campolo's book by that same title.  It was written for everyone who has lost a love, been let down by life, feels like their universe is unraveling. I heard what he was saying. 

That was almost 40 years ago.  There have been many more "Fridays but Sundays's comin" in my life.  But not so many that I don't still appreciate the fact that even though the day seems bleak, I'm glad I know  ' this too will pass'  and sometimes in the most unexpected and wonderful way.

And I look forward to a pre-dawn celebration of remembering that Sunday more than 2,000 years ago when "early in the morning as it began to dawn. . . "  which I will do in the Mandarin Cemetery - made more special to me because that is the place where my parents so appreciated Sunrise service.

Which brings me back to how I really got to where I am today

It is because of the faith that was instilled in me as a child - and the fact that it was my parents who taught me that what is important is that although it's Friday - Sunday's Comin.  I can still hear my daddy's words

He is risen indeed!

If only I had known. . .

It's really a good thing that we don't know what lies ahead.

"What's the name of the church where Renee works?"  

My brother-in-law's voice was anxious.

I answered his question and then he said "There's been a shooting at a private school in Nashville".  I knew it was not where my second daughter is.  I also was very grateful to know that it's not the school where my first-born grandchild teaches.

That does not mean I was not shaken.

When I opened my laptop for more information and saw the first photo -- I saw. . .

really blue skies and a lilac tree in early bloom and a beautiful church.

And this memory popped into my head:

It was the spring of 1979.  And for some reason, I connect the photo with a trip our family (at that time there were five of us) made to Nashville.

It seems 44 years late that it was a precursor to what lay ahead. Which speaks to me of the fact that we never know what lies ahead.  

When three mothers got their children ready for school on this past Monday, they had no clue what lay ahead.  

By now my three children are Christ-following, responsible adults - happily married, parents of outstanding children (sorry that's the grandma in me) making positive contributions to the world we live in.

That same world - where a person in pain - decided that she (or he and I hate that not willing-to-identify gender "thing") should take the lives of people she didn't know.  

My little family now includes educators and people who want to be educators.  And I hate to think of what could happen to any of them - or to the ones who are on airplanes often - or even simply driving from one place to another. 

If I were a worrier. . . 

Okay . . . since I am a worrier. . .

Fortunately, I know a few Bible verses that I have known since I was a child.  And I endeavor to let me thoughts embrace them when I feel frightened"

"Thou will keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on thee". Isaiah 26:3

Like so many, my prayers have been with the families of the victims in Nashville as I remember the beauty that I saw in the photo of the church - where the skies were blue and the lilac tree was in the early stages of its bloom.

And the pain that lay ahead of me when the photo I remembered was made - by now . . .well - you know how it turned out. 

I understand that my pain is minimal - I did not lose a child or a mate or a parent.  I do know that I can only offer God's peace to anyone who has a broken heart.  And a wish that somehow

there will be enough 

sunshine to help them deal with the shadows.