Today is my father-in-laws birthday, well at least we think it is today… I really don’t believe that he is trying to get cake and ice cream on July 11th and 12th. Bessie Grandma’s account of when she gave birth to her firstborn son, Gary Sr., conflicts with his birth certificate. I don’t know about you; but, I’m going with the mama because anyone who gives birth to a 12 pound baby is going to remember the day. Twelve pounds and the 12th just make sense to me.
I’ve written a little poem as I thought about him in a spot I often see him: his rocking chair after he comes in from gardening.
The man who carries the family torch
Rules from a rocking chair on the porch.
His crown looks like a brimmed hat
And beside his chair, there has been many a good chat.
You may see fresh dirt pressed beneath his grooved nails
Because he’s harvested the vegetables and filled his pail.
His corn on the cob?
I’ll take a gob!
His garden tomatoes all deserve a prize,
In my daughter-in-law eyes.
His half-runners,
I think they are stunners.
His chair towers over the tomato-lined porch walls
Where my childhood memories reach out and rotary dial call.
The Lord blessed me with a daddy, and a FIL, that’s a gardener – a vegetable grower
A reader, a worker, and knowledgeable seed sower,
In the garden, and in life, he prepares, plants, waters, and then, he waits
Confident, and secure, that The LORD is never late.
As his time marches on
I honor him here with poetry’s song:
And bless his 81 years.
Your work, your sacrifice, your tears,
I am so very thankful for your 81 years.
Blessed be the day of your birth
And I hope you know the depth, and the girth
The thanksgiving I feel to the LORD, for you, the Salesman’s daddy’s birth.
For your rocking chair days
For your patience in life, and gardening ways
To sit and rock
As time marches on, tick-tock.
But today, I too, sit and rock
And thank the Lord for the Osburn family flock
Shepherded by my dear FIL, who is good, and godly, stock.
