My family

Ok, this might take a couple posts, but I just want to give some context to my family history. So here goes...

I was born in Akron OH. My dad was a carpenter, my mother stayed at home with us. We lived in a neighborhood that would soon be overtaken by Applebees, Circuit City, and Giant Eagle seeking good location off the main Akron highway. But when I was a kid there was less traffic. We could play games in the street with the neighbor kids. Anyway. I remember playing in the back of my dad's pickup truck. I remember playing in the living room with him. I remember a fight that that my mom and dad had. My dad spilled rice all over the floor. My mom says it was really their only major fight ever. They stopped when they realized I was there. They apologized. I forgave them.

When I was four and my sister was two my dad got sick. We sent him to New Mexico for a while, he brought back a picture of the desert. I remember the cactus and the orange sky. I thought New Mexico was about like going to a different planet. The natural remedies didn't work though. We got a hospital bed in our house that would move up and down with the press of a button. I remember laying on my dad's chest and whispering "I love you."

Then one day I was playing at my grandma's house and my uncle came over. He sat us down and told us that he had something serious to tell us. "We are going to go home in a bit, but your mom wanted me to talk with you." I thought we were in trouble. "You dad has passed away. When you get there, his body will be there, but his soul is in heaven." I didn't know what to think. Heaven's good. We got home. Mom asked if I wanted to look at him. "No."

Funeral happened. I saw the body. We drove to the grave site. People were talking and crying. A few weeks later, I had forgotten and asked mom when dad was going to be home from work. She started crying and I suddenly realized that he wasn't coming back in this life.

We were church going people. Our church was a bunch of hippies who got saved and became Jesus freaks. They still had long hair, they played guitar, they just spoke in tounges instead of smoking pot. The women nursed their kids in public. The men danced in the aisles. People brought guitars and tamborings and played along with the band. It was weird, but there were great people there. John Morgan was the worship leader and he took me to the father/son campout. Bob Strubble took me fishing, we had to get up while it was still dark out. I realized that I needed God, so I asked my mom to pray with me. In that moment I decided to follow God. I still felt a bit different though without my dad. One time we were in the car and I asked my mom "so who is my dad now.?" Mom answered, "God has promised to be your father." And he was. I pictured God hugging me and I felt safe.

My sister and I grew older, my mom started homeschooling us. We were pretty smart. We took the same tests that kids in public school took and were grades ahead of most. People would come over and help out with stuff around the house. One of these guys was Dennis Knable. He helped build a deck on the front of our house with a bunch of other guys from church. He began hanging out more. My sister and I thought he was funny. Dennis bought me a lego fire station. Then one day my mom and Dennis called us into the living room and said that they have something to tell us. "If you guys are ok with it, we are going to get married." "Really?" "Really?!" We were embarassed and ran around the house like crazy kids. We were happy. I told him that it might take me a while to start calling him "dad." It took me about two weeks.

So there was a wedding. I was six Rachel was four. I was the ring-bearer and she was the flower-girl. It was a good day...