Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Sometimes when I do one of those memes it makes me think of the things that make me, well, ME. Bits and pieces, fractions of larger parts. People or places I've loved or known. Those that have taken root in my heart. Some memories I'd like to keep, others I'd like to pluck out and cast away. But for better or for worse, I guess I should relish them all. They have become a part of who I am. I like who I am. I've even come to be thankful for some mistakes I've made along the way. They have all brought me to where I am in this road I'm traveling. I am thankful for a heritage that I can be proud of.
I had a great, great grandfather that was a preacher and refused to harm anyone in the Civil war, he was shot with a cannon ball, but did not die from it, he later died at an old age. I have a great, great grandfather that married a beautiful Cherokee Indian girl that became my great, great grandmother. I had a great aunt that made the unleavened bread and carried it as she walked to church every Sunday 'til the day she died. These people had a great deal to do with who I am today and yet I never met them (yet).
All of my children, myself and my mother have the same little flip to our hairline on the back of our neck, we got it from my mother's father. I have his hands. He passed away few years ago on my birthday. I was due to be born on his birthday but was born a few days later. The day he died he was so deprived of oxygen he was halucinating and barely concious, but he clearly said, "Today is my baby's birthday." I am certain when God chose the day I was to be born he knew it would be the day of my grandfather's death years later. I have a cleft in my chin that always made people think I looked like my daddy, I was adopted by him when I was just two, but that always made me feel connected to him. Surely as God formed my chin, he knew it would look like my daddy's chin. We are truly fearfully and wonderfully made. Long before we are born things are coming together to make us who we are. Long after we are gone what we leave behind of ourselves will be shaping the lives of future generations.
These pictures are from a place called Sprewell Bluff. Its a place my daddy used to take us when we were little. I have been there a couple of times as an adult to take my children. But its not as magical as when I was a child. I hold fond memories of it in my heart. Its one of the bits and pieces that make me who I am. When my daddy took me there, he wrote on my heart. I am sure even when I am old I will remember those times he shared with us. Its become a little part of who I am. I hope I am writing beautiful things on the hearts of those whose lives I touch.