In My Heart, and On My Mind.

My daddy playing Cowboy.

My dad. Daddy, as I have always called him. He is suffering badly this week with the effects of his pancreatic cancer. I sorted through boxes of photos looking for a couple of these. One is always framed, and usually sitting alongside a pair of my dad's childhood cowboy boots, west Texas dirt still ground in the leather. They make me feel happy, make me visualize him strong and fighting.

Baylor University Rodeo Club

I can't be with him in person, but I am with him in spirit. I never tire of listening to him tell of his days growing up on his family's ranch, of the trouble he got into going into town on Saturday nights in the summertime with the cowhands. My dad has had a restless spirit, one that I can relate very well to.

Somewhere along the rodeo circuit, 1950's.

Daddy is 75. He has tried to retire several times in the last ten years. His retirement never lasts, and he inevitably goes to work doing something to stay active. Until a year ago, he worked out most days to stay in shape and kept up with league bowling. I'm feeling restless for him now. I know in my heart that he wants to be strong and be stirring up a little orneriness somewhere. I know that because I inherited that very trait from him. So, today while my daddy is recuperating in the hospital from yet another procedure, I'm far away in distance but near in spirit praying for his strength to return.

So many hugs to my sister and her family for all the care they give to my mother and daddy each and every day.