My BoBo

I don't know of a single girl who doesn't love her daddy. I can remember a time when I never called my dad "daddy". He was Bobo to me. Of course, his nickname was Sambo, hence my "baby talk" name for him came out as Bobo. My dad was firm and strict. He came from a tough yet humble background. But all the more, he was gentle and fun to be around. He made Christmas, Thanksgiving, the 4th of July, etc., fun! There was not a time I can remember that we ever went without anything. Mostly because of his hard work and dedication. This photo recently emerged of my sister Tina and I. Both my parents worked hard so we could have things. My family increased as the years went by with Rhonda, Samuel, and Monica. Sometimes were really hard for my parents I know. I remember one Christmas when some of my cousins actually had a pretty stocking. Ours consisted of some of mom's old pantyhose. My dad would make sure we had some nuts, a banana, an apple and orange. Not to mention candy bars! My mom and dad took us to church. We said prayer every Sunday morning at the breakfast table. We were disciplined and knew how to behave. This post could go on for days! There are special memories that deserve recognition. Thanks dad for being my "Bobo"! 

A Friend in Need...

Today I visited a friend who has been undergoing physical therapy in a local facility. Mary and I have been friends for years now. Her daughter is one of my best friends since childhood. Mary has undergone many surgeries in the last several months. She is now attached to a feeding tube but is gaining her strength back slowly everyday. Our visit was wonderful, I must say! 

As a child, I would visit Mary's elderly parents. We talked about this. Her parents lived next door to my great-grandmother. Everyday in the summer months during school vacations, my cousins and I would venture off to see what Mr. and Mrs. Taylor was doing. Now when I say next door, its not quite next door. It was several miles down the road! I remember this one particular pretty sunny day around lunch time, Mrs. Taylor had prepared a tremendous meal! There sat on the table a floral ceramic bowl of hot green beans, a saucer with sliced green cucumbers, a bowl of sliced red tomatoes, corn-on the cob in a pot, and a piping hot pone of cornbread! I was telling Mary of my memory and it brought a smile to her face. 

Her dad was a short, stumpy man. He was quick to say what was on his mind. Mr. Taylor always wore his coveralls and a short sleeved button down shirt underneath. I can still see his work boots he wore. Mrs. Taylor was always in a dress with an apron wrapped around her waist. They were always busy doing something. At the end of our visits, we would always go back to grandma's house. Mr. and Mrs. Taylor would always have a message for her. 

These by-gone days are a faded memory now. My visit with Mary brought back a lot of memories for me and for her. So the next time you have a day off or a few minutes to spare, go visit someone who is sick and shut-in. They will appreciate the visit and you will have gained so much more!

Psalm 30:2

O LORD my God, I cried to You for help, and You healed me.