Father's Day Tribute 2013

 Lubie Lynn Bedwell 1951

In the past I have praised my husband, my son, and my son-in-love on Father’s Day. This year, I am going to praise my grandfather.

When I was three years old, my biological father decided he no longer wanted to be bothered with me or my mother and disappeared from our lives as well as those of his parents. Her father immediately stepped in and took over the vacated role. I was raised as Mother’s much younger sister. I knew the difference in my head, but not my heart. As a toddler I had named him “Bangdaddy” and he was, and will be, known as that by all my friends, the family, the entire community, and me for eternity. He was a kind and gentle man with a strength of character that would have rivaled Superman. How he survived in a house full of females, I never have understood. Even all the pets except for one parakeet were female. I guess his way of coping with all of us in his “leisure” time was his Masonic/Shrine obligations and church work. He was so well respected that at the age of 88, he was asked to return to the Board of Deacons to fill out an unexpired term of one of his friends that had died. The others were disappointed when he refused even an honorary title. Even at the age of 91, and even though he was tired physically and ready to join my grandmother, it seemed to us that his life was cut way too short.

There was never a doubt to anyone who knew him that my mother, I, and my children were the light of his life, only second place to God.

I could continue to extol his virtues and love for others for a long time, but, because the entire World Wide Web cannot hold all the good things he did in his lifetime, I will stop by saying “Happy Father’s Day to Lubie Lynn Bedwell. I wish you were here. I miss your unconditional love and acceptance.”

Driver, Deer, Dog, Neighbor, or Problem Solver?

A few nights ago, a friend told me about a situation that nearly broke my heart.  You see, she lives along a minor highway in a rural area where wildlife is frequently active.  Two days ago a woman hit a deer in front of her elderly next door neighbor’s house.  Because the deer was laying in the roadway and blocking traffic, a couple of the neighbors pulled the deer into a ditch.  My friend called the county authorities to inform them there was a carcass and it could be picked up by the proper agency.  Since night was approaching, no one came that afternoon.

The next morning, the deer was still there, but seemed to be in a different position.  My friend’s mother thought she noticed the deer’s ears twitching.  Before long, a large neighborhood dog, a German Shepherd type, came up and starting chewing on the deer.  Each time the dog would bite, the deer would kick.  The deer was still alive! 

Another phone call was made, informing the Highway Department this was not a carcass, but a living deer that was being eaten alive by a dog, and would probably not survive.

About an hour or so later, a few agency representatives gathered at the scene.  The dog became aggressive; when the men tried to pick up the deer, the dog would try to protect his find.  They finally ran the dog off and prepared to remove the deer, but every time they tried to pick it up, they would be kicked.  What to do?  The decision was made to shoot the deer.  Crack - one shot.   The deer still did not die.  Time seemed to stand still while they waited.  Another shot was taken.  Still alive.  It took at least 15 minutes or more for the deer to finally succumb to all the injuries - being hit and run over by a car, laying in a wet, cold ditch all night, having a dog try to make a meal out of him, and being shot twice with bullets. 

As she told me, we both were disturbed thinking about all the pain that beautiful animal had to feel as well as the mental anguish that had to have taken place.  My heart still breaks for what that deer must have gone through for many hours, but then, I know the pain for the deer is now over.  Those who have participated in this tragedy have moved on, but the memory probably will remain for a long time.

Thinking about this episode during the night, I realized many times I have experienced similar issues with my behavior.  Which of these actors in the scene was I most like?  The driver of the car who, even though was unable to avoid the deer, still was responsible for injury to another living being?  The deer - knocked down by life events, not dead yet, but still unable to pull through?  The neighbors - not able to make the situation right, but exercising a little effort to find someone who would help?  The dog - constantly being a tormentor to the weak and helpless?  Maybe the animal control person, or the law enforcement officer - sizing up the situation, discussing the possibilities, and then taking the needed action repeatedly until successful? 

I must admit I have probably played all parts at different times.  I suspect I have been in the role of the driver many times - unintentionally and unable to avoid inflicting injury.  I know I have been like the deer - going about my life, not paying attention to the risk I was placing myself in, and venturing into the direct path of the oncoming danger.  I would hope I would be in the role of the neighbors - helping with whatever resources that would be available.  I regret I could have ever been in the role of the dog - adding to the torment of the injured.  The thought of having to be the law enforcement person, although needed and vital to have solved this situation, would be the most difficult role to play. 

I think about times when I have been knocked down by life; I would be almost lifeless and ineffective - almost as useless as a corpse.  After a time, I would do my best to get back on my feet, but most times the struggle would be wasted because I could not recover on my own.  Then something or someone would come along when I was at my most vulnerable and torment me while I was weak and unable to protect myself.  Sometimes, if I was fortunate, someone would notice I needed help and would try to encourage me, and provide aid and assistance to me.

Thankfully, it is evident that up to this point in my life, I have not had to be shot and killed to be put out of my misery.  However, I must admit that at times I have been in so deep despair that I might have welcomed the relief. 

But God isn’t done with me yet!!