The Best of Both Part 1

This coming March, I will be turning the oh so classy 27. The casual odd number. Not enough to be important but old enough to not be "young twenty-ish" anymore. Yeah...blah I know. I realize it's what, 5 months away, but just work with me here. With age comes great insight on life...that's what everyone is told. The "Wise Ole' Owl" eh?

Anyhoo...I remember when I was little always asking my Moma and Daddy...

"How do you know_____?" This question could have pertained to anything and everything. From washing dishes to grilling steaks. I wanted to know how in the world they knew what they were doing. Their answer was always either, "I just do," or "I learned from so and so."

And there I stood in awe and full of amazement that my Moma and Daddy could twirl a stick or cook a pop-egg (that's a fried egg with the yolk just a bit runny in case you were curious...my name of course).

What has brought me to share all of this thought process with you today?

Well...sitting on the couch today, I watched my little Savannah slowly learn how to work a particular part of a toy that she has. She's been playing with the toy for weeks now and has yet to quite figure it out. I've sat and watched her become frustrated and mad and then quickly move on. I've sat on the floor and showed her how it works only for her to become very bored and yet again, move on. But today...she finally got it. All by herself. I was there the entire time, watching. I wanted oh so badly to attempt to show her again, but I stopped myself. I am happy I did too. Because when she figured it out, she looked up at me and smiled her big, adorable, beautiful, Savannah grin. My heart just melted. She got it...all by herself. *tear*

I got to thinking about my girls and what I want them take from me. What I want them to learn and absorb from just being around me. Kind of like I did with my parents. A lot of the things I do today are all because I simply watched them. So, I've decided to share with you what makes me me and how I turned out the way I did.

Part I

This is my Daddy.

His name is Emory Earl, but everyone has called him Sonny since he was younger. Nickname sort of.

He is a GREAT man! I'm sure if you ask almost every daughter, she'll say that about her Daddy' using the term "Daddy" of course. And that's what he's always been. I was never one to call him "Dad." Not saying that it's a bad thing, just that growing up, it felt a bit disrespectful and taught.

So Daddy it was and Daddy it is.

Holding baby Colton; my Bub's youngest.

I consider myself blessed to have a Daddy like I have. Blessed to have him at all. When I was younger, he was in an accident that could have completely changed the way my life is today. I could have very easily been one of those that was forced to grow up with out their Daddy. But God took him in His arms and kept him safe...so needless to say, I'm very very thankful, everyday.

There is a lot about my Daddy that seems mysterious and yet serene. There were a lot of times I wished I could've had a glimpse of his mind rolling and turning. Now that I'm older, I no longer wonder because my mind works in the same mannerism as his. Ideas always trickling down from the spring of genius-ness. Just kidding. But really...

I wish I could tally up all the hours that I spent sitting by his side listening to all of his stories. There's probably a story for every life changing event you can think of...and that's pretty awesome. To this day, I can still get a story out of him, new ones at that.

Reece and Daddy

My Daddy is a quiet man though. Especially over the past 15 years or so. It all started shortly after that accident that he was in. The doctors call them Chronic Severe Migraines only because they can't seem to figure out what's going on. Every day he manages and puts up with these , sometimes, unbearable headaches. Thus the reason he's so quiet and withdrawn. He has no choice.

I remember though, before his accident, how lively he used to be. You could hardly keep inside. A project was always on the works. He was always into something; building fences, shelves, working the garden, dragging the pasture, riding horses...always something. Now-a-days, he can hardly mow the yard with out paying for it 2-3 days following. And that...yall...breaks my heart.

Daddy and Savannah

Even though he was dealing with all of that pain, he managed to be the Daddy a girl or any child at that, could ask for. He was bound and determined to work through it all. He didn't want to be held back or look like a failure(which was the last thing that I would have called him). He took Bub fishing and hunting as much as he could (which was quite often), he worked with Grandaddy on projects with no end, piddled with me around the yard and garage teaching me valuable lessons. I think though, my most favorite times were when it was late in the evening. Moma always went to bed early. She was never one to make it past 8:30. *giggle* So that always left me and Daddy up watching tv together. (My Bub was usually outside or off hunting somewhere)

These were the times when I learned the most from him. He shared stories of playing football, old girlfriends (I know...crazy, but important), working in Miami, surfing, earning a scholarship to a college in Illinois, his old jobs, and on and on they go. He taught me how to pop homemade popcorn and salt and butter it just right. We picked movies and tv shows a part; telling on all of their mishaps and camera ques. And I remember that one summer when I would stay up till 12 with him every night watching Silk Stalkings....our favorite show at the time.

My brother learned a lot from Daddy by doings around the house, but I think my most valued moments were these. To this day, I never remember the classic talk about drugs and sex. You know...the "don't do it" ones?  He never had to say it because I already respected him enough and learned from his character what was right and wrong. 

Four generations of Hinsons

 He used to tell me that I could do anything, and you know, he still does. In fact, it was just the other day that he told me that I could fix my broken garbage disposal. Me? Yeah, I know. You know what though, I did. He walked me through the whole thing and I came out on top...now it works all fine and dandy. He would do that a lot though...watch me plop down on the step beside his chair and listen to my "I can't do this" story and then tell me how to work through it. Many many of times.

So...if haven't noticed already I look up to my daddy a whole lot. He endures a lot of pain for being such a great man...and I think that's his greatest lesson for me. There's no pain strong enough that can keep you from sharing the joy of life with others. While at times, it may feel like you're failing, keeptrucking along and you'll reach the shore. Just as the waves are constantly falling, so is His love.

Daddy and Hope