Daddy, They Came!!!

Daddy:

 

My simple pleasure. The majestic purple martin.

Just before you you left us, you asked me to take care of a few things. You knew I would do them, but I’m glad you asked, anyway.

What you didn’t know is that I planned to carry on some of your favorite traditions – in honor of you, and for my own pleasure as well.

After you left us, I went to the farm and dug your martin houses from the ground. You had set them well. After digging four feet down into the sand, I finally got them out, and onto the trailer. It wasn’t easy, but I did it.

I brought them over the 30-mile drive to Jonesboro, repainted them, and set them in the best place I could find. I knew you would say it wasn’t the best location, but it was the best I had.

Just as you did, I tracked the martins on the internet. When I saw the migration was getting close, I watched every day … but they never came. I kept hearing you say, it wasn’t the right place.

Dana and I went on a vacation last week. I saw you in the sunset there on the beach, then looked back and saw a rainbow over the mountains. It was your promise. I knew it.

We got home a few days ago, dad, and you wouldn’t believe it. The martins came!

I’m so happy!

You sent them here didn’t you?

Oh, daddy, you should see them.  They are so majestic and magnificent. They soar with beauty and the sing to the heavens. I can’t believe it.

I know now why it made you so happy. I sit and watch them, and I can’t take my eyes off them.

Oh my, Daddy, the martins came!!!

PS: I have your BB gun to keep the bad birds away… and the squash in the garden looks good too…

Dear Daddy…

 

I was thinking of you at this moment.

For just a fleeting second I was thinking how much you would enjoy this view…then I remembered you see something greater every day.

I wish I could look into your eyes again.

I wish we could embrace and I  could feel your chest against mine. I wish my hands could feel the strength in the broadness of your back.

I wish you could give me some good advice while we sat in the backyard watching the martins.

I just wish I could reach out and touch you again.

I’m doing my best to carry out the things you said. I really hope you are proud.

I wished you were here for this moment … and then I realized you were, but I still miss you so.

I know you are enjoying the everlasting Light in which you now bask. You will show me around won’t you?

See you soon. I love you so.

Steve.

Just a Few Quick Shots from Ecuador

Dana and Me

Time has been too valuable to blog since our arrival in Ecuador six days ago now. Every minute is exploration. Wanted to post a few quick pics, though, and will recap all when we return home.

We have some great stories.

Tomorrow, driving from Puerto Cayo to Manta and taking the early flight into Quito to stand on the equator for a bucket-list check.

Good night, from the middle of the World.

Playing tourista in Montanita!!!

Sunset on the Pacific: Latitude Zero.

Southbound: To the Middle of the World

Camera – check.

Kindle with 6 episodes of The Sopranos – check.

Clothes that SCREAM American tourist – check.

Plane tickets – check.

Rental car – check.

Cool shades – check.

Sunscreen – check.

Flip flops – check.

Jonesboro-Memphis-Miami-Guayaquil-Puerto Cayo.

Let’s do this thing.

T-5 hours and headed for a great 10-day adventure to Latitude Zero. See you on the equator!

Only 7,000 miles to go!

It’s an Honor: An Open Letter to WordPress Bloggers and Those Who Read My Blog

“If you would not be forgotten as soon as you are dead and rotten, either write things worth reading, or do things worth the writing.” ~ Ben Franklin

On any given day, there are at least half a million blog posts on wordpress.com

It’s a dose of reality reminding me that my work is just another grain of sand on a long stretch of beach.

When it comes to writing, I’m a purist. I don’t do “musings,” or “ramblings.” Poetry’s not my bag, and I won’t be sharing recipes with you any time soon. There’s a place in the blogging world for all those things, I suppose. It’s just not particular cup of tea.

There’s an irony to my blogging posts. By day, I’m a private, guarded person with a close circle of only a few friends to whom the guard comes down. But at the keyboard, something magnificent happens because it allows transparency to flow.

I will share with you, the blogging world, my shortcomings, my failures, and more importantly the lessons learned. And I say a prayer before hitting the “publish” button that it will make a difference in someone’s life on any given day. It’s a powerful thing and an honor to be able to share.

Every writer’s greatest honor is to be read.

It’s a rush to sit in a rural corner of northeast Arkansas, USA, and see that someone in Gibraltar or the Netherlands, New Zealand or Indonesia has taken time out of his or her day to read your work.

It brightens my day when someone takes time to read and “like” the blog post of the day.

And whether they agree or disagree, it’s a thrill when a reader comments and gives feedback to the words you typed earlier in the morning.

I’m thankful to have a creative outlet to share an experience, thought or opinion.

And so know this: When you read my blog, you do me the highest honor, you make my day and you reinforce the purpose within me.

For that, I am thankful.

(Blogger‘s note: For the next two weeks, I’ll be blogging from Puerto Cayo, Ecuador with my wife where we’ll be sharing experiences from our own “Amazing Race.” See you on the equator.)