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A Man Called Daddy

Photo by Humphrey Muleba on Unsplash

Proverbs 20:7 The just man walketh in his integrity: his children are blessed after him.

This is my mother’s story.

My mother was born to a great father. He was daddy to nine children and a wonderful “uncle James” to many more. His own father was killed when he was a mere two years old. His dad, a farmer was killed when he was butted and gored by one of his own cows.

So her daddy did not have his own role model.

My mother is the first girl and the third child of nine. She loved her daddy dearly and cannot remember a time when she heard a harsh word pass his lips. By all accounts he was a godly and gentle man, filled with wisdom and love for his family, his friends and his neighbors. He knew God’s words backwards and forward and even as he lay on the verge of transitioning he would redirect anyone on incorrect scripture.

According to my grandfather, a man can be successful and achieve anything if he is determined to work hard, always saved a portion of his earnings and if he is blessed with a contented wife!

My mom remembers that as a farmer, (he farmed vegetables and rice and reared animals), he would always share with his community. If anyone stole his produce he would theorize that they needed it more than he did.

He would frown upon abuse of any kind especially that of men and their wives. My grandpa grew up with little, that was soon after slavery was abolished, (my patriarchal side of the family were instrumental in the abolishment of slavery, I am so proud of my heritage). My grandfather and his brothers would purchase land together with other relatives and as such he was able to leave a sizeable legacy for his children. 

My mother, her siblings and everyone who knew my grandpa, remembers him as a kind, wise and blessed soul.

My mother has expressed that she will be buried alongside her father as there is nowhere else she would rather spend eternity. Now that speaks volumes for the daddy he was!

Photo by Jude Beck on Unsplash

I wish all his grandchildren had gotten to know him.

I called him daddy as well and remember a kind and gentle man who told his grandkids stories sitting under a tree in the backyard. I was 6 years old when he died.

I am sure today is “Father’s Day” in heaven as well, where great daddys’ are rewarded for serving their children well.

 

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Daylight Savings Time

Image by: PIPPA RAGA

Startled awake by my alarm. I reluctantly attempt to disentangle myself from the murky depths far beyond wakefulness.

Through sleep-glazed eyes I hit what I hope is the snooze button on my phone, could be the home button, I do not care. Anything just makes this screeching stop!

Sigh!

I blissfully returned to the depths from which I briefly emerged.

Ah, blessed rest.

The screeching again disturbs the serenity of my resting space and again I battle the murky gloom.

Squinting attempting to see.

The time reads 05:20 AM … I groan ever so deeply in my soul, dear God why…I should be born rich … why am I not rich?

I throw the covers off and, my day begins.

Daylight Savings Time, I have never understood it’s relevance in my life. I know it’s historical significance, but does it really still apply? Still necessary?

If this is truly Daylight Saving … why have I lost my time?

Tomorrow will be better, I think. The body will soon be adjusted and the difference I will notice no longer.

But, just for today…Daylight Savings time has left me bereft!

How do you cope with the time changes?