This photo is stunning to me in so many ways. The young child is my sister's grandson, Wesley. The marvelously handsome elderly gentleman is my Dad. You are looking at a young boy - age 6 (I think), and a man - age 85.
As I ponder this photo, it is very difficult to articulate what I feel. I honestly remember being that age and playing baseball. I remember my much-younger Dad being at most every game I played even though he worked 14-hour days, (7) days a week owning and operating a Gulf Service Station.
I think about the fact that I will be a grandfather in November of this year. I don't think I fully realize what that means because I continue to believe that I am too young to be a grandfather, but I'm really not, and I could not be more thrilled about having a Worley rug rat around.
I think about what my Dad has witnessed in his lifetime. I think about his wit. I think about his solid faith, his example of love and commitment to my Mom, his stable and quiet approach to most everything in life that I can think of. The words "stress" and "my Dad" have never been used in the same sentence, even though I am quite certain he has experienced it......I would never have known.
I really wonder what runs through his mind as he watches his great-grandson play baseball. That must bring him great delight because I know how much he loves that game, and I know how much he loves watching kids play it - most especially, his kids.
I went to the doctor today because of some nagging pain that will not go away. I will spare you the boring details except to say that the orthopedic doctor told me to expect to have (3) different surgeries on (3) different parts of my body sometime in the next 5-10 years.
As I have pondered that statement, I almost have to laugh. Here's a doctor I have never met or talked with until today, and after reviewing x-rays and spending 15 minutes with me, that's what he has to say to me. Good grief - I don't know what's up with tomorrow, much less the thought of (3) surgeries in the next 5-10 years.
I think about my 85-year old Dad. I really think if he had been in that room with this doctor, he would have cracked a joke, and walked out of the doctor's office to go out and prove him wrong. After all, alot of things have to be "going your way" to still be around at age 85!
So, our bodies wear down, even our minds don't stay as sharp as we would like, but we get up each morning and thank our great God that we have breath and energy, and yes, even pain because we all know that there is much to be learned through pain.
I know I need to persevere because I want to still be around at age 85.....and watch my great-grandson play baseball or sing or play an instrument or make a movie or watch (Lord, what would I do!!??) my great-granddaughter dance or sing or play ball or paint a picture or laugh out loud.
I really do need to ask my Dad what that feels like, and as much as I need to hear it, I am quite certain it would bring him even greater joy just to tell me all about it.
