I've been thinkin' about my dad all day and I know many of you have been followin' the stories through the years and know that he's my absolute heart. But back in the day that wasn't how it was... he was a mean man who drank whiskey by the quart and his best friend was a loaded gun. I gotta say the truth, at one point when I moved out, at about 17, I didn't speak to him for 15 years. Truth. Then one day, for many reasons, I got in contact again and I bless the day. Anyway.. my brother told me this story a little while back and I'm sharin' it with you because it is so exactly my dad. So typical of him when he was drunk that we laughed at it then and at the same time we were always scared... sometimes too scared to breathe. Just sayin', but I laugh at it now. I know it's not funny at all... and I know some would be stunned.... but this is how we lived.
So when my dad first moved to a mountain in West Virginia about 30 years ago or so (there really wasn't much more than a path in the middle of some wild woods), and his then new girlfriend's (now long passed) kids called my dad on the phone one day to give him hell for taking their mother to such a God forsaken place and they were sayin' how they were gonna come after my dad and kick his ass.
They were on the phone so my dad said to them "hold on just a minute" - reached over, got his always loaded shotgun that was never more than a reach away, shot both hinges off the door - got back on the phone and said "son, you ain't gonna have any problems gettin' in."
Hehehehehe. I know you might not understand why I laugh at that but it's just so typical of him.. there's hundreds of stories like that - it's just how he rolled. He's a mountain man, and he drinks and sometimes those mountain people just live a different way. But I've since learned that He's a special one that dad of mine... and I pray for many more years of makin' up for the ones I lost. Amen.