“I realized that day that blessings come in a variety of shapes, colors, and sizes.” ― Craig Groeschel

It's Friday, September 27, 2019, and while the air feels slightly different, our home is decked out in fall colors. The reddish-orange and brown stuff is now our official accenting decor while Mr. Summer refuses to leave outside. There are times when I get into bed and just for a millisecond I feel the cold sheet and it transports me back to those days of yesteryear when it was getting cooler and the windows were wide open and you needed cover immediately. It is a nice memory, albeit fleeting. The other day I was feeling a wee bit poorly. I call it my vague feeling. Something might be wrong or maybe I just feel like something is wrong. Whatever, it translates into that blah sickly feeling. I told the wife I was thinking about getting into a tub of hot water to see if that would help. She was against me doing that. She said when I am feeling poorly and get in hot water I almost always have a hard chill. I thought about that. A hard chill for me typically indicates I'm getting whatever is wrong out of my system. I waited a little while and announced it again. This time she told me to just do what I thought I should do. I did. No chill. Must not have needed to get whatever it was out of my system, so, I just figured it must fit one of my grandfather's suggested remedies, "You've got the same shoes to feel better in." Or, something like that. The wife kept asking me what I thought the problem was. I couldn't come up with anything so I sang back to her these lyrics, "My latest sun is sinking fast, My race is nearly run." We both laughed and moved on down the road of life.

Those who have read my blogs over the years are well aware of the role of my mom's dad, Paw Paw Mac, in my life. Losing my dad at age 7, my grandfather was hugely influential in my upbringing. He was a legendary figure to us. Here's a blog I wrote twelve years ago that helps describe some of the reasons why: ~ Things Learned Under The Mimosa Trees! Growing up in a small rural area meant we typically got haircuts a couple of times a month. My grandfather used to take us a few miles out of town to a man’s house and he had his little barbershop out in his backyard. This fellow had the largest mimosa trees I’ve ever seen. They were huge. We had some in our yard but they never really amounted to much. His trees could be climbed and it was really great climbing because the branches were spread out far and wide which gave plenty of room. These trees had a special kind of worm that fed on its leaves which were prized for fishing, especially for white perch. We could have gotten our haircut in town but my grandfather didn’t really care for that barber. He only had one eye and every time someone sat down in the chair he would ask how they wanted their hair cut and then everyone around would burst out laughing because they knew it didn’t matter, he was going to cut it the same way every time, his way, which usually meant bad.

Paw Paw Mac with my nephew Thomas Allen.

Us boys heard many stories when we went for a haircut. One day out under the mimosa trees an older gentleman sat down in one of the wooden chairs. He looked inside the shop and saw my granddad. Then he looked at me. He said, “Boy, is that Rancher McMillan in there?” I said proudly, “Yes sir, it is.” He then asked, “Are you his grandson?” Again, “Yes sir, I am.” He then proceeded to tell me a remarkable story about something that had happened many years earlier. He began, “Your Grandpa and I go way back. We used to saw logs together. We cut trees in some of the big woods all around these parts. One day he and I were getting ready to fell a huge pine tree and I was using my ax to bed it on one side. When I swung that ax back it came out of my hand and flew through the air and hit your grandpa right in the face. In fact, it plum cut his nose off. Your grandpa grabbed his nose because it was still hanging and put it back on his face and held it tight. I loaded him up in the truck and carried him to Doc Stephens who sewed it back on. He didn’t even deaden it. We then went back to the woods. Yep, I’m probably the only man you will ever know who cut your grandpa’s nose off!”

What a story! When I asked Paw Paw about it he just waved it off like he always did whenever anyone tried to talk about him. Later in his life when he suffered much in the way of sinus problems I often thought about that story. I can’t imagine having your nose sewed up with no pain medication. But I will tell you this. From what I know about my granddad the entire story has the ring of truth and it added to the legend of my great respect for this man of influence in my life. That’s at least one thing I learned under the mimosa trees that I will never forget. ~

Well, another blogging week has come and gone. I sure hope everyone has a really wonderful Saturday and that we all will make our way to the meeting place on Lord's Day Sunday. Lord willing and the Creek Indian nation doesn't rise, I will catch back up with everyone, next time, on this same station. May God bless. Amen. ....More later.