Dad taught us many things

Through expeditions up mountains, along trails,

Sunday afternoon car rides

And picnicking at a scenic creek, mountain, or roadside park

 

Discipline, endurance, fun, and adventure

Stinging nettles, stink bugs, milkweeds and snakes

Digging in sand dunes, wading in a cool spring,

Skipping a rock across the water

All were lessons wrapped in fun

 

The pain of the hot mid-day July Texas sun

And the power of an unexpected rain shower on a hike

The feel of loblollies made at the edge of a stock tank

And the taste of frog legs deep-fried in granny’s old country kitchen

 

Moss grows on the north side of a tree

Don’t go spelunking without first telling dad

Catch a possum by the tail, chase an armadillo,

But never ever disturb a skunk

 

Prickly pears hurt, although they can be good to eat

It is fun to make a bow and arrow

From a limb of a nearby willow tree

 

There is no need to hurt or kill another living creature

Not daddy long leg spiders, ugly insects,

Nor even killer bees

 

Clear the rocks on many hot days from a lake lot,

Then dump truckloads of fill stones on top

Quickly teach new depths of gratitude

For cooling dips in the lake

 

Dad could play happy songs on a French harp

Or on his personally made electric guitar

He fashioned flute like whistles from cane grown beside a creek

And his drums were beautifully crafted from wood

 

He could walk on his hands from the front yard to the back

And easily throw us high in the air when we begged

He was loved and feared all in the same breath

And his lessons remain with us still today

 

His comfort in daily routine

And his lifelong passion for woodwork

Enabled the creating of daily objects of beauty

Marking his time spent in joyful productivity

And resulting in a trail of treasures for others to admire