Mothers day

This year for Mothers day, Shelly and I made a trip to Lilesville to spend the day with mom and her crazy dogs and then from there we went down to my brothers house for a Mothers day lunch. It's always good to get back to Lilesville every now and then. As always I like to get several pictures of the crazy but lazy dogs that live ever so great in there tin roof double wide.

After dad healed from his first heart attack he was still adamant about working outside... and since he couldn't do anything physically, he took up wood cutting. Next thing you know... that rascal had a couple of band saws and a couple of sanders. For several years this is what mom and dad would do. Dad would cut out and sand the wood and then mom would paint it. I don't know who originally started it but after awhile there were several families doing this. I can remember seeing tables full of this stuff.

Over the past few weeks I've been having all kinds of dreams. Ever since I was a kid I remember having dreams but this dream is one I would like to share. I've always thought to myself that dreams were like a movie playing in the theater and I'm the only one watching. I use to remember all my dreams really well but these days I seem to forget them before the day gets started. This one however was worthy of my pen and paper before I done anything else.

In this dream... I was at the house here in Lilesville and I seen dad outside cutting some wood. I remember seeing my motocross bike parked under the building behind the house and how it was slightly in dads way. After noticing that I went over and pulled my bike out of his way so he could have more room to finish the wood he was cutting. From that moment on, I remember in my dream... watching him cut that wood like he had done it all his life. Glasses on the edge of his nose while he looks at his work and saw dust all over his hands. I remember all the features about dad were the same as when he was alive. His hair was still comed back and looked like mom had just finished coloring his hair. In this dream... I remember him looking at his finished work and it looked like the back of an expensive wooden dinner chair.

After that everything just faded out and I awoke shortly after. You know, even though this was only a dream, it was so close to his personality. Dad was a genius at everything he done. Especially at being a parent to me. Happy Mothers Day mom. I'd like to dedicate these stories to you. Thanks for being who you are and I love you.

Brian