My mom’s dad was a business man. He repaired oil rigs down in Mississippi, east of Jackson. He answered the call of his customers all around that region, and all around the clock. He grew his business over a number of years and labored hard for it.
He and Grandmother planted their roots in a little town called Laurel, and raised my mom and her sister there. Grandaddy loved his family. He would do anything for them. Mom wanted to ski. So Grandaddy built her a lake. To build her a lake he needed land. So he bought a farm. Once he had a farm, he needed to fill it. So he bought a herd of cattle and some chickens.
It was his latest years that he spent the most time with his family. After his first heart attack he began to appreciate what he had. That was his gift. The heart attack taught him to appreciate what he had. From then on he was a new man. Grandaddy died at 67 years old. As Grandmother said, “He just woke up dead one morning.” I remember. Thanksgiving 1977.
Cancer is our gift. Consider this my first heart attack. Thank God I am getting it early in life.
Tara is still uncomfortable. The chemo is taking its toll on her body with side effects. Her gut has been a wreck for almost 2 weeks now. We pray that will end soon. Thank God though it is working on the cancer. And thank him for sustaining us and giving us peace.