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Dinner Out

My attorney, John Paul took me out for dinner tonight. I enjoyed an Ahi Tuna Salad, which was wonderful. I also took the liberty of ordering a dirty martini, with Grey Goose--since it was his treat. Oh MY GOD> I had no idea the difference between the crappy vodka I usually drink and the quality I inbibed this evening. Just another confirmation.

Get Rich. And quick. I dont think we can afford the good life I am sampling right now.

Flying in Style

I flew into Nashville last night, and boy are my arms tired!! OK. That was lame.

I did want to say a big thanks to my friend Paul who allowed me to used a Buddy pass of his with Delta Airlines. .. . :)

I wore a nice suit to the airport, preparing to fly standby, and was greeted with a Perrier and a first class seat. Sweet.

Note to self: Get rich.

Final Tribute

As many of you know, I had the opportunity to speak at my father's funeral last week. Today was a little tough, being Father's Day. So I am sharing the eulogy I wrote for him. I only wish I could have known him better to paint a better picture.


My Dad had a big heart. He always had a certain something about him that drew people to him. He wasn’t a rich man, unless you consider friends as currency. I can’t remember an instance of going into town with my Dad and not running into someone who knew him and not just casually. He had a way of making everyone he came in contact with feel they were the most important person in the world. A lot of salespeople would kill for that gift. But the funny thing is Dad was sincere. He genuinely loved to be around people. Some folks have read the book, “How to Win Friends and Influence People”: Not daddy. I think that book could have been written about him, though.

I can speculate about Dad’s connections with others out in the world, and after some of the conversations with you last night-- I have confirmation that he loved well, and was well loved. That is a comfort to my heart. But today, I really want to talk to you from a unique perspective. That of his daughter. You may not have ever had the opportunity to see this tender side of him.

Daddy was 29 when I was born. I hear that I was doted on. . .a tow-headed, brown-eyed girl. Such a little thing. . To have such a big fella wrapped so securely around that itty bitty finger. Jason joined me almost 3 years later. And Jessica completed the family 10 years after that.

One of the strongest images in my mind of my dad is his hands. They were usually calloused from hard work, but they were HUGE! I would place my hand in his to compare the size and I was always dwarfed.

Before I would fall asleep @ night. . Daddy would “pop” my toes to the “this little piggy” nursery rhyme. Its funny to think about the sheer size of his fingers compared to my baby toes. He had the power to pull ‘em off @ the joint . . . but with his gentle touch, no harm was ever done.

The only spanking I can ever remember from my Dad was a well deserved one. Most kids will never confess the need for discipline, but let me explain.
For some reason, I thought it would be a good idea to try my hand at barbequing. I gathered some twigs and built my little secret grill behind the woodpile –just out of sight of grandma hanging out the laundry. I got an apple, put it on a stick and proceeded to roast it over my fire. Everything was going just fine when I felt a hand on my shoulder. . and in a flash Grandma was stomping out my creation. . .and whooping’ my bottom. Not long after that, Daddy got home. . the story was repeated. . and so was my whooping. I don’t remember the spanking as so much as that Daddy was crying. I found out much later that he was afraid he had hurt me . . . his big size. .. .and that he punished me because of what could have happened.

I forgot to mention that my fire was built not just behind the woodpile. . . .but beside the 500 gallon butane tank. The fact that there is NOT a 50 foot crater at my grandmother’s house--You can be thankful I am not a good sneak. Or a good fire starter, I’ll leave that to my brother.

At around the same time, Daddy taught me how to ride a bike. I was afraid of falling over into the gravel road, but the faith I had in his big hands catching me was greater than my fear.

Thru the years the greeting I got from Daddy was always a hug and a kiss. But when I graduated college. He extended those big hands and shook mine. I felt as if I had done something grown up, something for him to be truly proud of me for.

But as I’ve grown older, I realized I’ve never had to DO anything to make him proud of me. Just by the virtue of being his daughter makes me good enough. . Someone he was proud of. And that is the way Daddy was.

You didn’t have to be important for him to treat you well. He was a guy who befriended those who had no friends. He always rooted for the underdog. Daddy took the verse, from Matthew 22. . . to love your neighbor as yourself very seriously. Dad was not one to wear religion on his sleeve. I don’t remember seeing him carry around a Christian flag. . waving it around for everyone to see. But the way he lived his life showed Christ’s love. And I think that witnessed more to people than most Bible-toting evangelists.
Even as sick as Daddy became.. and even after the 100 lbs he has lost. . . .his hands have not changed one bit.. I held his hands last night. . and they were the same. . .Today I find myself releasing my Dad into my Heavenly Father’s hands.

Don’t weep for my dad. He lived a short life, but it was more full than most. He would be embarrassed by this show of emotion; but he would have loved to be in the midst of all of you, greeting you, sharing a story or a cup of coffee.
Lets celebrate his legacy of friendship. Lets remember to love one another. That is how I plan to keep my dad alive in my heart.

Darlene, I want to honor you specifically in this assembly. Thank you for helping my Dad to be a better man. You are the best thing that ever happened to him. I am grateful to you for completing him and being his soul-mate. You may not be my mother, but I am grateful you were his wife. For the past nine months, you stood by him, ministering to him, and showing him compassion. I can only hope that I have that kind of love in my heart.

Howard Ray Gregory

March 17, 1946-June 7, 2005

Jason was with him, holding his hand. He went peacefully. God answered my prayer.

Overtime

I remember as a kid . .one of the nightly rituals with my dad was goodnight prayers and him pulling my toes. I always loved the way his great big fingers got ahold of my teeny little feet and managed to pop the joint without ripping the actual appendage off. To this day, I like having Scott pull my toes before I fall asleep. Part of it is nostalgia, the other part the last piece of my relaxation puzzle for the day. Of course, I am a lot bigger and Scott isnt quite as big of a fella as my dad once was.

I mention this little piece of the past and its connection to the present because I want to share some of those memories with you guys. Most of you have never known Howard Ray Gregory as my dad. He was the captain of his high school basketball team. Standing at 6'8", he was an imposing figure on the court as well as in life. Usually a gentle soul, my dad was well loved by everyone who knew him. He served in the Arkansas National Guard for 30 years. He was a dutiful son, who was never able to get out from the shadow of living so close to his parents in the rural community he called home. Dad was a rice and soybean farmer. He drove 18-wheelers and even did a stint as a deputy sheriff in Jackson County, Arkansas. He was always able to leverage his physical strength into a living for his family.

Dad became a father at age 29 when I was born in 1974. He got his second dip into fatherhood when Jason came along about after 3 years. Ten years later Darlene gave him his third child, a daughter. Jessica. Watching Jessica grow up over the past 18 years has really shown me what a great father Dad was. Because of the distance, I didnt get to experience it firsthand. But seeing what a beautiful, thoughtful and intellegent young woman she is, I know.

Our hearts are breaking as we watch him wither away in a hospital bed. Just a skeleton of who he once was. I pray every night for God to have mercy on him. To have mercy on Darlene, who ministers to him, unscathed by the ugliness of his wounds. Dad is in the last stages. I hope he is able to go to a peaceful place while he still with us. Maybe back to his glory days, when he was able bodied and usually a hero in the last play.

Promise not to Laugh

Im thinking about going back to school, y'all. I started my MBA two years ago, and was doing quite well until I was injured in the car wreck. Based on how well I did back then, and based on conversations I have had with various and sundry people, I am gonna make a go at it again. This time tho, I am thinking of going down the path of law. Keep in mind I used the word "thinking".

At this point I am just investigating the feasibility of such an idea. I would have to take the LSAT. I would have to come up with a plan to pay for school. I need to figure out why law school is appealing to me. I need to consider how my going back to school full time would fit into our lifestyle. We are already broke, so not much would change there.

Of course, just remember my ADD. Tomorrow I may just wanna go fly kites.

Like a Fish Out of Water

Ok, so today I get a memo at work that I have to sign.

"It has been brought to my attention that several people have noticed things missing from their desks. Personal items, work items. Please be respectful of other people's belongings. If a person has not expressly given you permission to take something off their desk, leave it alone!"

That is right. We are being reminded not to steal.

Except maybe paperclips.

I caught you looking!

ha ha. sorry i have nothing new to post as of right now. but it was awfully nice to see you stop by!