Dad and the Full Moon

My father was a man of the outdoors - he could tell what the weather would be like by the sky or the way the leaves curled on a tree. He could tell from the way animals behaved in the late summer what kind of winter to expect.

I should not be surprised that the same kind of knowledge is carrying him to his final resting place.

I found out this morning that by brother in law, some cousins and the neighbor boys he hunted with went up to the church last night and dug dad's grave. It was a precious, fitting tribute.

And it brought what was to me, a bit bizzare, bit of additional folklore - there won't be enough dirt to fill the hole.

Apparently it has something to do with last night's full moon and the earth's gravitational pull. I googled it and found various explanations . (By the way - DO NOT google "grave digging" or "dig grave" and "full moon" in the same search!)

Whatever the case, I learned something from my dad, again.

Escape from I-Land

Remember Patch the Pirate? I deliberately raised the kids on Patch - partly because the songs and stories were so daggone good, and partly because I liked them too. I think my favorite was the Misterslippi River Race. Everything about that recording touched a deep, deep south part of my soul. It was a different story with a different villain that I thought about today, King Me First, of Kidnapped on I-Land.

King Me-First's given name was CW. He was a cute impish kid who's dad was away on business a lot. When he was very small he was stricken with a deadly illness and his overwrought mother catered to his every need in fear of losing him. He survived though and became a healthy boy, romping in the woods and learning the ways of the outdoors. The patterns of behavior that were established during his illness never changed however. He became manipulative and conniving and his parents caved in to his every whim all the way to adulthood. This way of relating to the world around him carried over into his own family and caused untold heartache for his wife and daughters. Even in his love for his family, King Me First was always . . . first.

He's an old man now, and the consequences of a lifetime of selfish behavior have taken their toll. His suffering has been profound and we've been told by a man of God that the only reason he's still alive is that God is still trying to do a work in his heart. I found out this morning that he's dying. His kidneys are shutting down and rumor around the hospital is that he won't leave there alive.

But something profound has happened . . . for the first time ever to my knowledge he put someone else first. Twice today, through gasps for breath and a slurred tongue he's asked my mom if she would be ok.

Dad, this person who spoke today . . . where has he been the last fifty years?