this picture was taken at my mom and dad's place, in my hometown (but not one of the houses I grew up in). I cannot seem to remember the exact day I was told my dad had cancer. I think it might have been February or April. I do remember that my dad was the one comforting me. the day of this particular photo had us going to a picnic for neal's mom's side of the family. we thought we had best stop by and see my folks first as this was one of those visits that had us wondering just how many more we would get. I want to say that I hope you don't know that feeling, but wisdom and experience tells me that is virtually impossible. I have no idea what the statistics say about your chances of knowing someone with cancer; I stopped counting a long time ago.this picture was after a fabulous lunch, the day of my dad's baptism. I was privileged to sing with some great friends. they know and love my dad dearly, their children calling him granddad. it was a great day; one I never in my wildest dreams ever imagined becoming a reality. some days you will still hear mom and I saying "this is so weird. dad is praying. dad is reading his bible. dad counsels us. this is so weird." all in a good way, of course.I guess it is usually july that has me reflecting on a LOT of things in my life. the operation that didn't quite seem to accomplish what we were praying it would
the little boy we tried to adopt who turns another year older
the dad who almost left us then hung stubbornly on to bless us with more life than ever
the summer I left church and wondered if I would ever remember how to pray again
the dream of a lifetime coming true but ending differently than we had hoped
the finding that perhaps, just maybe, plan b is really plan a ...