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
