Fathers

 Genesis 3:17-19  Then to Adam He said, “Because you have heeded the voice of your wife, and have eaten from the tree of which I commanded you, saying, ‘You shall not eat of it’: “ Cursed is the ground for your sake; In toil you shall eat of it All the days of your life.Both thorns and thistles it shall bring forth for you,And you shall eat the herb of the field. In the sweat of your face you shall eat bread Till you return to the ground,  For out of it you were taken; For dust you are,And to dust you shall return.” 

Just like most of you, I've been thinking of my Dad quite a bit the last few days.  This verse came to mind.  It's a verse all of our fathers have lived out to provide and care for their families.  

When I think of my Dad, there are always those upfront memories.  The ones you've sealed up in your heart that can not be damaged or changed.  The ones that you hope, in your old age, you don't forget.  My Dad was a shrimp boat captain.  Some of you know the hard life that it is, some of you have only heard about it.  For all my growing up years he was the captain of his boat, the Lisa Missy.  And as such, it took most of his time.  He would be gone 7-10 days or so and then home for 2-4 depending on the weather patterns and how the shrimp were running.  He worked hard and long, sometimes with little reward.  He did what he had to do to provide for his family, to pay the bills, to keep us sheltered.  Season after season, year after year.  Toiling...in the sweat of his face.

Because he was gone so often, I had my favorite things of him nurtured and grown large in my mind.  For instance...when Mom would go to get Dad from the dock, she would let one or two of us go with her.  This was momentous.  In my child mind I thought the drive took forever when in reality it was about thirty minutes.  On the way she would stop in this little gas station where the road split.  She would let whomever was with her get a pop and a chip.  Joy, utter joy!  Then we'd make our merry way to the dock and wait for Dad.  We would get to watch his boat be unloaded and watch the shrimp go down the conveyor belts.  I always thought that place smelled bad.  Like old shrimp.  But the best part was when Dad had settled up and sold his catch, you'd get a big hug.  And he smelled...he smelled of shrimp and diesel fuel and salt.  And his shirt was always drenched with sweat.  It is one of my most favorite smells in this world.  It's the smell of home.  


When it wasn't my turn to go and bring him home, we'd get that same hug when he walked in the house.  The same smells.  His unshaven face, tired as it was, smiling and feeling prickly.  Then he'd disappear into the restroom and get cleaned up.  When he left that bathroom, he was a new fella.  Clean shaven and smelling of Old Spice.  My other favorite smell.  He'd sit in his big recliner and I'd crawl into his lap and snuggle in.  Wrapped in his arms and in Old Spice.  Then the stories would start.  Nope, not of his trip...not of the Gulf of Mexico...not of shrimp and crab and the occasional shark.  It was all about squirrels and owls and sometimes gators.  All these forest creatures that had adventures, and he would share them with us.  


These days finds my Dad, not as a shrimp boat captain, as a husband and father and grandfather.  He spends his time dozing in his big recliner, unable to remember the stories about the squirrels.  He spends some seasons collecting pecans and shelling them, other seasons he spends fishing.  He still has that same smile and those blue eyes and for some reason, in his older age, his hair is turning from gray back to brown.  He finds it amusing and says that he must be on the side of age.  He'll be 78 this year and still smells of Old Spice.  My heart aches from not seeing him for almost two years now...little things make me cry, like writing this...hearing his voice...seeing his photo.  

This is a tribute to my father, Alex Joseph LeBeouf.  I love you, Dad and miss you with all my heart.  Hopefully we can visit soon and get one of those hugs.