A Celebration of My Father

Today, I am grateful for my earthly father, Bobby Bembry, who shaped my life through the wisdom he shared. Some of the things he said seemed funny and hard to figure out like, “You can’t lead a goat to water because you can’t make him drink. You can make a horse drink but a goat’s going to do what he wants to do” and “You don’t leave a dead dog in the road. It just stinks.” Both statements, as well as many others he would make, are profound. The goat statement tells us some people will never change and it’s not our job to make them change. There are a couple of thoughts in the second hidden gem: first, we don’t need to put all of our personal business out there for everyone to see and run over; second, we need to clean up any problems we have before they get us run over by cars or eaten by buzzards.

Today, my daddy would have been celebrating his 84th birthday. I am thankful God put him in my life to help mold me into the man I am today.

My father, seated, surrounded by, from left to right: my youngest sister, Abbie; myself; and my brother.

Elegy for Mama

Today, I am grateful for the wonderful woman God gave me to be my mama and my friend. Twenty-one years ago today, my mother left this earth and entered into the realms of Glory. I remember the battle to keep her here as I was told by my friends, Rob Covell and Lori Williams, who worked for Madison County EMS, and by Dr. Adolfo Dulay. I appreciate everything they did, but God had other plans for my mother and he allowed her to go Home. She had a hard life, losing three of her precious children, who she was reunited with. Although many times I wish she was still here, so I could share a problem I have with her, or to share a moment of happiness, I know that I would never want to remove her from her place of Joy. She is in the presence of the Lord.

Through the Fog

Three years ago, I began writing a book about being a caregiver for my sister. The book still hasn’t been finished and it’s shifted to not only being about Abbie, but also about Danny and my attempts to help care for them and provide for their needs. For so long, I have attempted to care for my family but time after time, I find they care for me. I once dreamed of a day when I can make enough money editing and writing to pay off our house, our car, provide food, and other necessities and be able to live stress-free. Maybe I will, but even if I never do, I know God is always good to me and my family. Below is the original beginning of the book I began about Abbie:

Through the Fog

A heavy fog blanketed the roadway on a misty morning. As my low beam headlights cut through the fog, I began wondering about my sister, Abbie, and more specifically, about the way she thinks.

I wondered if her thoughts were foggy, and that made it more difficult for her to be dependent, as a mentally-challenged individual. I wondered that, if sometimes, when I see her smile because she has had an epiphany that her low beam highlights had not increased with a flick of the switch or a tap of the toe to full brightness.

I often wonder how Abbie’s mind works. Since it is a rare occasion that she ever speaks, there are many questions that I ask her that go unanswered unless the answer to the questions comes through body language – a smile, a frown, a shrug of the shoulders, shaking her hands in frustration, tapping her fingers on the top of her head because she has a headache, or touching her finger to her forehead to indicate she is thinking about the question that I asked.

People often ask how I communicate with my younger sister. I tell them that it’s hard to explain, but that, if you have been around her as often as I have, you learn to pick up on her non-verbal cues and facial expressions.

Maybe others do not see my sister the way that I do, but I see her as a genteel, Southern lady, a “steel magnolia” – “Gentle as the sweet magnolia/Strong as steel, her faith and pride/She’s a everlasting shoulder/The leaning post of life…” (Lyrics from “Eagle When She Flies,” written by Dolly Parton). Abbie has the gentlest heart of anyone I know, yet she is strong-willed and strong-minded. When she is soft, she reminds me of my mother, and the character played by Darryl Hannah in the movie, “Steel Magnolias.” When she is strong-willed and strong-minded, she reminds me of the character played by Shirley MacLaine in “Steel Magnolias” and the character played by Jessica Tandy in “Driving Miss Daisy.” Sometimes, I think she is going to look at my brother, Danny, or me, in a combination of a strong-willed and soft-hearted moment when she has had us do her bidding, and proclaim like Miss Daisy did to her driver, “Hoke, you’re my best friend.”

As the rain falls outside my window, and I hear the pitter-patter of it to the ground, I give thanks that God has given me Abbie for a sister. Some may see my work with her as a challenge, but, for me, it is a great opportunity, and one, for which I will always be grateful. I will wander through the fog with Abbie until the end of my days.

Granddaddy’s Secret Elixir

I had a million things on my mind as I tried to sleep one night. Much of my time, but not nearly enough, was spent in prayer.

As I walked down the halls of sleeplessness, I began opening many doors. The doors held long-forgotten memories.

One memory that I recalled was from my Granddaddy and Granny Sealey’s anniversary party. I believe that it was their 41st anniversary. Everyone enjoyed a cookout outside my grandparents’ home in Lee. There were many people, mostly family, all there. I remember a band playing country music. The members of the band included my mama’s first cousin, Mason Linton, and her cousins, Trent Lasseter and Brenda McCormick. Jimmy Kent played the guitar. Her cousin, Faye Kervin, sang a song or two. Mama’s brother, J.D. Sealey, sang. I am still wondering if Mason and Jimmy still play. I don’t think Faye sings anymore. I do know that Trent and Brenda still play.

I believe that it was a year later, maybe less, than Granddaddy died.

Granddaddy, along with my daddy and my Uncle Billy, were probably my childhood heroes. Granddaddy had grand plans for the two of us. Many of them, like the go-kart he was going to build for us, never materialized. I understand, though, that it was because he did not have the time. He had to work. He had to work a lot but he still took time out for his firstborn grandson.

I can still remember my granny and granddaddy getting into little spats when I was a child. Granddaddy would get in his car and leave in a huff. Soon, he would be home and wouldn’t be grumpy anymore.

I always wondered where Granddaddy went. One day, my daddy and I found out. There used to be a general store in Lee run by Bert Stroup. On this particular day, when Daddy and I went there to buy Coca-Colas, we discovered my granddaddy, Jake Sealey, in there drinking one of those eight-ounce Coca-Colas that they used to bottle years ago. With youthful wide-eyed wonder, I looked up at my mother’s father like I hadn’t seen him in years and said, “Hey, Granddaddy!”

“Hmmpf!” was his reply but it did not deter me because I was excited. I had discovered the secret elixir that would end his grumpy mood.

Sometimes, I wish that I could find me an old eight-ounce Coca-Cola and drink it and chase my problems away, but I know that drink had no influence on him other than as a pacifier that gave him time to think things through.

God is the answer to my problems and I know that I should spend more time in prayer and Bible reading with Him.

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