A Dad Like None Other

One topic most people find easy to discuss is their parents.  Usually you’ll see faces light up with love as they tell you about mom’s fried chicken or dad’s amazing carpentry skills.  It hurts me though to see eyes cloud with pain as I am told tales of absent fathers or abusive mothers, and as a schoolteacher, I hear those stories a lot. 

My own story is sort of unique. 

I can empathize with those pain-filled eyes because I can remember when my family was one of those sad stories.  I won’t go into great detail here, but we were living in abject poverty with a father in the home who was living only to please himself.  However, my dad became a Christian when I was eight years old, and everything changed.  What I want to convey are a few of the things about the new father I received on that day that make him so amazing.

• When my dad became a Christian, it was real, and the change was immediate.  Where there had been drugs, alcohol, and long absences, now there was peace, contentment, and involvement.  Try to tell me Jesus isn’t real, and I’ll tell you a story about a fellow named Jim Raley who became a new man the day he met his Lord. 

Dad lied about his age when he was 17 and joined the Air Force.
This is him at age 18.

• He nicknamed me ‘Lucy,’ and I was a teenager before I figured out my name was not Eve Kathleen Lucy Raley.
• I loved to squeeze Dad’s bicep muscle.  He would flex it and say, “That’ll crack your head like a walnut.”
• I was never scared in the night because I knew dad was in the house.  With those walnut-cracking muscles, he was like Superman to me, and everyone under his protection could sleep safe and sound. 
• Every night before he went to sleep, he would kneel down next to his bed and pray.  Every. night.
• I thought it would be funny to hide in a pile of laundry on his bed and scare him after his evening prayers.  It all went perfectly until I realized he had his huge fist drawn back to deck the hidden terror in the laundry. Thank you, Dad, for realizing it was me before you broke out my teeth.
•  One night when we were doing our family Bible study of Proverbs, I was feeling peevish, so I made the point that none of the verses applied to me because they were all addressed to “My Son.”  He patiently explained to me that the masculine form was all-encompassing for the sake of those verses,  and thereafter, when Dad would reach one of those “My Son” verses, he would always pause, then add “or Daughter,” and look significantly at me over the top of his Bible.  I always wished I hadn’t tried to be difficult that evening. 
• I never saw my dad get angry.  Not. one. time.  He never yelled at me or belittled me or made me feel less.  If I did something deserving of punishment, I could bet the consequence would be swift and sure, but it was never done out of anger.  I have tried to discipline my own children in the same way. 
• One time after I had done something particularly heinous, I went to his bedroom to apologize.  He was looking out his window as I came up behind him and said, “I’m sorry.”  He turned to me, and I saw he had been crying.  Those tears broke my heart, and I never wanted to disappoint him again.
•  He taught me that the Bible was sacred and holy.  The Bible was so revered in our home that no objects were allowed to be placed on top of it… unless it was another Bible. 
• Dad forbade me to date certain Undesirables, and when I tried to sneak around and do it anyway, he whipped me.  I look back on those fellows now and shudder.  Thank you, Dad!
• When I was going through my teenage angst months, Dad one day sent me a balloon and a rose to school, and I remembered how much he really loved me and stopped acting so stupid.
• My dad always told me I was beautiful and smart and worth more than diamonds, and I believed him because he only speaks the truth.

He was really proud of all his girls.

• My father never hesitated to show us kids how much he loves my mother.  He used to tell me that a man should kiss his woman like he eats a ripe peach; then he’d turn and kiss her.  I never knew exactly what that meant because he put up his hand to hide their faces.  It never crossed my mind that my parents wouldn’t always be together.  They were a single unit then and still are today.
• When Scary Todd started leaving his scary messages on my voicemail, I told my dad about it and never heard from Scary Todd again.
• *Disclaimer* Scary Todd was not killed.  I SAW him again after that, but he actively avoided me.
•  He’s crazy intelligent but hides it on purpose behind his country drawl and poor spelling.  One time, he wrote, “CHEEP, CHEEP” on a car he was selling.  When I asked him if he knew he misspelled it, he told me he was luring potential buyers into a false feeling of superiority, and they wouldn’t realize he had them until it was too late. 
• On the day when I shamefacedly confessed my pregnancy-of-unfortunate-circumstances to him, Dad smiled at me and said, “I like grandbabies.”
• When I cried the day before my ten-year class reunion because I had bitten all my nails off the week prior and was ashamed of my hands, he made an appointment for me to go have my nails done.
• He loves my children as much as I do.

My dad baptizing my nephew Christian.

• His eyes light up every time he sees me, and when I say, “How are you, Dad?” he always replies, “Better now!”
• In the summertime, he cuts a single rosebud for me as I leave his house.  He will always hold the perfect little flower up to my face before giving it to me and say, “It’s not nearly so pretty as you.”

Did I mention how handsome he is?

I’m going to see my dad today.  I’ll try to tell him how much I love him and what a great dad he is.  I’m always afraid he doesn’t quite believe it’s true.  He focuses too much on those early years and thinks the damage he did then could never be undone. 

Maybe he doesn’t understand the legacy of love he built for us every day since then.

Maybe he doesn’t see that I am what I am today because he was who he was.

Maybe he doesn’t realize that when I look back on my childhood, all I feel is love and safety.

Maybe he doesn’t know that in the eyes of his children, he is a man among men. 

Maybe today will be the day I find the words to show him what an amazing dad he is and how he taught me what a real man looks like.  

My family- I love them all so much!

   

Dat Gumbo Make You Slap You Momma

I’ve always been a good eater, and in the early years I was a one-trick pony, but since then, I’ve also become a crackerjack cook.  There were early gaffes, e.g. the time I made goulash and used only ketchup for the sauce, but overall, quality eats have been turned out of my kitchen for nigh on twenty years.

Hamburger, noodles, and ketchup. Mmmmm....

Gumbo is one of the dishes that my family begs for, and I believe I have perfected my recipe.  I did a two-year stint in Louisiana when I was a preschooler, which likely explains why I’m so good at making it.  I shall share it with you here.

Put a pound of chicken in the oven to roast.  Make sure you season it with salt, pepper, and garlic.  Also put some rice on to steam.  You’re probably going to want about four to six cups of cooked rice.

Chop an onion, a bell pepper, and about four stalks of celery.  We like our vegetables chopped small, but you do whatever suits your family best.  I have a mini food chopper that is the bombdiggity for this job.  In a stockpot, sauté these veggies in a little oil - just until they soften.

Over half of my recipes start with the same three ingredients. 

Add two boxes of chicken broth or stock.  Trust me on this; you want the boxes.  You can buy cans of broth, but it won’t be as good.  You can make your own stock from scratch, which is what I used to do, but you’re wasting your time.  Give the boxed broth or stock a try, but don’t rush me in the streets trying to kiss me once you taste how delicious it is.  I’m not comfortable with being kissed in the street, but you’re welcome ahead of time.

I am not a paid spokesperson for Swanson,
but maybe I should be.   

To your broth and veggies, add seasonings.  I’m not going to tell you how much to add or limit you to the list of things I put in.  Just put in the amount that feels right; trust your instincts on this one.  Your goal here is to make a broth so flavorful that your family members fight each other to get the last bowl.  Add stuff like salt, garlic powder or crushed garlic, Tony Chachere’s Creole Seasoning, parsley, celery flakes, onion powder, a couple of bay leaves, and/or chicken-flavored bullion cubes.  Place a lid on your pot, and set the heat so it simmers.

The seasoning of the gods. 

Make a roux by browning a cup of flour in a stick of butter and a few tablespoons of oil.   Making certain to stir constantly, brown the flour over a medium heat until it is a deep, deep brown.  

Seriously.  Get it really brown. 

Let your roux cool a bit before adding it to the broth.  I lay some paper towels over the top of it while it’s cooling to soak up some of the excess oil, but I’m not judging you if you choose to dump the whole mess into the pot as is. 

Slice a pound of Andouille sausage and brown.  I’ve used other sausages like Kielbasa and Polish, but you’ll be glad you went with Andouille because of its subtle spicy goodness.  WARNING:   I one time got ahold of a package of Andouille sausage that listed pork blood loud and proud on its ingredient list.  I vomited into my mouth a little.  Go forth and buy your Andouille, but first check the ingredients. 

Upside- No pork blood.
Downside: These little links resemble hot dogs
when sliced up, and who makes hot dog gumbo?

Add the sausage to your broth along with the cooled roux.  Break up the roasted chicken and toss that in there too.  Also thaw some peeled and deveined shrimp, remove their tails, and add it to the mix.  How much shrimp should you add?  How much money do you have to spend?  Let that be your guide. 

Now that you have all that goodness simmering in your pot, give it some time to percolate and for all those flavors to mix and meld into mouth heaven.  Taste test frequently, and add more spices as you deem fit.  I don’t make mine very hot because it’s so easy to add extra Tony’s to your bowl to suit individual tastes.  Add extra boxed broth if needed to make it very soupy. 

My husband approves this message.

To serve, put a helping of rice into your bowl and ladle the gumbo over the top.  Stop and thank the Good Lord for Louisiana, and Cajuns, and spoons because you’re about to experience a goodness the likes of which have not been felt since manna fell from Heaven. 

Don't hate me because I got to eat this and
all you have is a picture.
Just make your own.