I'm Thankful for my Dad

I call myself pretty lucky.  As my girls are growing up, they want to hear stories of me growing up more and more often.  As I share these stories, I realize how different they are from what they are experiencing.  I wouldn't trade my childhood for a minute, and it makes me sad to think that my girls won't have the memories of riding horseback, spending night after night with cousins, combining the corn, baling hay, swinging on the barn rope, walking through the field to my cousins, playing Monopoly all night with my cousins.  Yes, my world revolved around my family and cousins.  I know my girls are growing up having fun with friends and neighbors, but it is very different.  There is a beginning and an end, and "how did my child do, did she mind her manners, clean up?  We'll have to do this more often..." type of thing.  Spontaneous at the Martin household was the word.  There were no playdates, just days....  days all day outside.  So many of my memories trickle back to my parents and their stability in my life.    My Dad... a man of little words.  But He didn't need to speak.  Love him!  With all my heart!  He has never stopped growing into something new... farmer, deacon, chaplin, nurse, director... and it's not over.   There are always forks in the road, we just have to have faith and choose.  I have Faith in my Dad.  And I know he will choose the right path, still to this day.  God has a plan for him and he has touched so many lives at Hospice in Middletown, maybe it's time he made an impact somewhere new.  Where?  I dunno, God has plans for him.  Big plans.