Altar
Call – Opelika-Auburn News
Walter
Albritton
May
26, 2013
Strange to say
but lately I have seen my Dad a lot
Strange it is to say so but I have
seen my Dad a lot lately. I saw him last night at a barbeque grill in the
backyard of the home he built in 1930. He was grilling hamburgers.
Actually the person at the grill was
my grandson Jake, now a junior at Auburn University. While Jake was expertly
cooking burgers and dogs I saw my Dad doing the same thing, near that same
spot, when I was a boy. There was one difference. Dad’s grill was at ground
level; the coals were in a hole he had dug in the earth. Jake’s grill was built
up with bricks two feet off the ground.
Inside the house Dean and I sat and
talked with Jake’s parents, our son Steve and his wife Amy. They live in the
old home place, having bought and remodeled it after my parents died. We were
celebrating their son Josh’s graduation from Macon-East Academy and the
opportunity given him to move on and play baseball for AUM.
The room in which we sat is their
bedroom now, with a nice new bathroom built off the south side. It had been the
bedroom of my parents during most of their 67 years of marriage.
Sitting there I saw my Dad struggling
in his late years to get out of bed. He wanted so much to maintain his
independence. But his strength was failing as he moved into his nineties. I
remembered the day he said, “I could get out of bed by myself if only I had
something to grab hold of.”
My son Tim and I bought some pipe and
fastened it to the floor just a foot away from Dad’s bed. He was pleased. For
awhile he was able to grab that pipe and get out of bed and on his feet without
assistance. The pipe looked strange but Dad liked it because it enabled him to
help himself. I saw him using that pipe the other night in that bedroom.
In that very room I also saw my mother
during the two years she remained after Dad died. Most of that time she was in
a hospital bed in that room. Dad’s prayers were for the most part answered. He
had asked the Lord to let him live so he could take care of Mama. The Lord let
him live into his 93rd year.
When we sit at Steve’s and Amy’s table
to eat I see my Dad sitting in his familiar place in the room we called the
“breakfast room.” Whether it is planned I am not sure but my place at their
table is the identical place I sat when I was a boy. Each of my siblings had “our place” at the table. Dad and Mama
had their places. At the present table, a new one Steve had built,
I can still see my Dad instructing us to hold hands while he prayed the only
prayer I ever heard him pray: “Bless, O Lord, this food to our use and
ourselves to thy service for Christ’s sake. Amen.”
When I drive along Redland Road and
observe a new crop of corn growing so beautifully I see my Dad. I see him in
his old corn fields, admiring the fine ears of corn thriving on that rich Tallapoosa
River bottom land. Some years those corn stalks towered over him and he would
beam as he talked about the fine yield per acre he was expecting.
Though Dad left us almost 20 years ago
he is still around. Only in my memories it’s true. But memories are real. They
are precious. And they do linger. Through
their window I have seen my Dad a lot lately and I am blessed. + + +