“It is spring again. The earth is like a child that knows poems by heart.” ― Rainer Maria Rilke, (1875-1926), Poet and Novelist

It's Wednesday, March 21, 2018, and I bring you greetings on the day after the official beginning of Spring, or at least that's what was written on the wall calendar I follow. I don't know about you but I am soaking up as much of these cooler mornings as I can, because, believe me, there is an expiration date and they will be only a memory before you know it. We do have pollen. The yellow stuff. Everyone is so happy when a shower comes along to wash some of that caked on stuff away. And, many have the sniffles that are either brought on by or aggravated by the pollen. Allergies. I can't remember if we had allergies when I was growing up. I'm not sure we were allowed. At any rate, I'm certain that whatever we encountered, my grandfather's overarching rule applied, "You've got the same shoes to get glad in." Don't take that to mean something negative. It was just how we operated our day to day living.  Paw Paw always gave you encouragement, "Son, I can tell you one thing for sure, it will feel better when it stops hurting." I'm not sure what temperature we had to have in order to pay a visit to our town physician, Dr. Stephens, but I'm pretty sure it had to indicate a real fever. Today, everything is knee-jerk, "Son, you most likely need to get that checked out. You just never know." Me too. I throw that one out almost everytime they tell me one of my grandchildren has some indication of an ailment. That must mean we are so much better off today. Does it? Think about it. I'm not so sure.

I think my folks attempted to be very Bible-oriented in how they handled things. The phrase, "it came to pass" shows up 480 times in our Authorized King James version. That supported their approach to dealing with challenges. It didn't come to stay, it came to pass. And, most of the time it worked. It really did. There were a few exceptions. I came down with pneumonia and had to hospitalized back when I was 12 or 13. I'm sure that happened after I didn't get better over an extended period of time. I also had my appendix out when I was 15. Yep. They couldn't do that one on a house visit, so I was operated on at the hospital. Oh yeah. I almost forgot. I had a huge gash on the top of my head sewed up at the clinic when I was a teen. But, before I went to get the stitches, I had some old-fashioned home remedy applied. We had been swimming and went to the house of some who were with us. It was the closest. I was bleeding profusely. Their dad, Mr. Davis, well, he put my head between his legs, held me down, and poured Iodine directly into the wound. I was ready to speak in many tongues at that moment. However, I well remember what Dr. Frazier said to my mom. "Mam, you don't have to worry about infection. This wound is fried. Literally. Nothing could live in it." I think he thought to pour that Iodine was a good thing. I did learn a valuable lesson from that experience. Don't dive headfirst into a swimming hole that you have never been to before. I didn't say their approach to raising kids made me any brighter. Is that why they call it the school of hard knocks?

That self-inflicted accident happened as a result of peer pressure. We didn't know that was the name back then, but, we had several of us boys racing down the hill to get to the swimming hole first. I won the race but didn't get a prize for finding the stump. I knew I had hit something, but, I didn't know I had opened up my skull. When the girls finally got there, they freaked out when they saw blood instead of water running down my face. Who knew? I know what you are thinking. If I took that hard of a lick on my head that far back, well, you are thinking that might explain a lot. Add to that the Iodine sterilization and the lead pencils and going barefoot and having no seatbelts and drinking water from a dipper, well, all of that together and so much more, it might just explain a lot. It does. It tells the story of my growing up among people who loved me and did the best they knew how to see after my needs. The other day, I caught the tail end of one of those programs where the Christian psychologist was trying to help a man cope with having never heard his dad say that he loved him. The man was a little younger than me. I have no recollection of my grandfather ever saying he loved me. But, I have no recollection growing up, and since, of ever thinking even once that he didn't. It was clear to me that he did. He loved us all. He was devoted to his family. He proved that every day of his life. That's good enough for me, but, thanks, Doctor, for asking. See you next time. Until then, may God bless us all. Amen. ....More later.