Nice Telephone Talk This Morning...

I talked with my daddy on the phone this morning. Some of you may have seen my mom and dad's portrait when they first married circa probably say...1954:

I think they made such a handsome couple. Both of my parents are 81 years old, they divorced when I was around 19. They are friends now...Oh life is a crazy thing indeed. Of course when things don't go right in our lives it makes us very sympathetic to others. It's the school of brokeness, the companionship of brokeness....The School of Christ.

My dad is a very common sense kind of guy. He used to write, he used to speak on his woodwork, he's an artist with natural wood, at least he used to be before his eyes started deteriorating, city counsel, ... he's a very independant hardworking man. He's a trip and a compassionate trip but also a bit of prophet too. He now has macular degeneration that I'm praying for the Lord to heal. I believe Jesus is the same yesterday, today and forever.

This morning we were talking over the phone, email isn't working very well with his eyes doing a number on him.

We were talking about the college loan thing with our president calling executive order and reducing college loans. Ridiculous. Typical.

I love what Dr. Paul said on it and how he shared on working his way through college and medical school.

Rush Limbaugh has been excellent on the subject lately as well.

In our family college has never been a given unless needed. : )

The phone conversation this morning went like this:

I do believe it's a story that may make you laugh.

He tells me that after I was born and was a little girl he decided to go back to college in Midtown to finish his degree. He doesn't realize it but I remember. I remember he would go to night school in dress pants and cardigan sweater. It was the days of the movie, "Space Odyssey"...it was the year Baskin and Robbins came to the suburbs near NASA and Daddy brought this carton of strange mint greenish blue, cough drop colored ice cream, a flavor called "Daqueri Ice" to our old 1930s home, in the little spotless kitchen my mom kept so nice. Our home was neat as a pin. My mom's not a creative messie like me. ; ) She's an artist but a very neat one. : )

The background to this story is when my dad was in the army as First Lieutenant I think it was his Captain. We'll call him Captain York. Captain York was with Patton during the war and they worked closely. Captain York always told my dad that knowing the answer wasn't important, it was knowing where to find the answer that was important.

Okay back to college in Midtown. 1960-something. My dad was sitting in the classroom and the prof. decides to call a pop-quiz. My dad took one look at the pop quiz and thought to himself...I do not know the answers to this.

He remembered what Captain York said... that knowing the answer wasn't important, it was knowing where to find the answer that was important.

So what does a common sense man do? He pulls his textbook out and looks the answers up unashamedly.

The prof of course notices and walks over to my dad and stares for a bit and finally says:

"Mr. Mickey you are using your book and this is a test."

My dad replied:
"Yes, I have learned that it's not knowing the answers that is important it's knowing where to find the answers, and I am here to learn."

The prof. didn't say a word and quietly walked away.

After class the prof and Dad talked for a bit. Dad found the professor to be a p.h.d. Dad also found out that he himself made more income in his own waterfront business than the good professor.

Daddy came home that night and I remember he and mother talking there in the little formal table area. Daddy tells Mother he saw no reason to go back.

And he didn't.

In following years, I saw my father on city council, Mother and I always met him in the bookstore on our shopping evenings. We were a threesome, me, an only child. I loved meeting Daddy in the bookstore after Mother and I would shop for what we needed. Trust me, it was for what we needed, my Mother and Father were very practical and still are, they were children during the 30s and they vowed I would never be spoiled as an only child.

Daddy would learn to make a Civil War cannon (he never calls it the civil war though, it was The Battle of Northern Aggression according to the red-caped nurse who attended the young men at the private military school he attended in Biloxi Mississippi)... Daddy being the fun loving practical joker would shoot things out of the cannon over the Bay. : ) He would continue flying airplanes for a hobby and attend to his pets...his cat named Sam and his dog named Minnie Pearl. His salty editorials and such were scattered up until ten years ago or so...

So many great stories to tell here in the future.

Life is a story may we live it. Life is a story may we love it and love others. Life is a journal page what will we write?

I wrote a little about my dad when he was just a little boy in the blog entry "Booger Men and Small Rebellions". And no...my dad is not the booger man, although his nickname for me was and is booger bear from when I was a little girl dressed like a little bear for halloween. I should send the picture in to the Reminisce magazine...so cute. And noooo we don't celebrate halloween for anyone interested.


Me and Daddy the other week, yep my hair back in a ponytail again. It gives my face a lift pulled back and do you know I thought that back in 6th grade too? Ha! A 6th grader thinking she's looking older.... oh my.

Rebecca our baby, 17 and Michelle, 21. Lea 28 and Marianna 26 somehow didn't make it into a picture this time. But they were there too. Marianna once said her grandpa was such an amazing man in a sweet, contemplative voice as we drive down the street...It's always an emotional time leaving. The car is very quiet for for a little while. I try to just look out of my window...

That's all for this evening. Goodnight All. Love in Christ Jesus, the Lover of Our Souls. ~Amelia
P.S. It's not the answer, it's where to find the answer. Christ Jesus, He is alive and listening. Seek, Knock, Ask, Listen...Sometimes it's the Eleventh hour...