May these words of my mouth and this meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, LORD, my Rock and my Redeemer.
Know what this is?
Here’s another view.
I’ll bet you know now. Right?
I’ve been going through pictures, because #3 is getting married in just a few weeks, and he wants them for the nuptial slide show.
I’ll share a few with you. They won’t be very good quality. Some because they never were, and the rest because I didn’t scan them. I took a picture with my iPhone. Faster. 🙂
I don’t know why I let him grow up in the first place. Or any of them. Sometimes I wish I could have stopped time and just lived with my babies at that young age forever. But then I realize all the wonderful times we’d have missed later.
Since there’s no way I could give those up, I relive the times in my head. Pictures help. (Even with my photography.)
Ignore the thumb. 🙂
This is #3 after fishing with his bigger brother in the Deer Creek pond. (Deer Creek is the neighborhood we lived in at Pryor Creek.) #3 caught two or three little fish that day because he couldn’t cast very far. The only fish biting were at the edge of the pond.
His older brother could cast his line out to the middle of the pond, where the fish weren’t biting. But bigger brother liked casting more than he wanted to catch anything. Brad made the big haul. But they were all too small to keep. 🙂
Brad never wanted to be a baby. He wanted to do everything his brothers did. He walked early, talked early and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t keep him in a diaper. The brat wanted big boy underwear, like his brothers, so I let him potty train himself.
He grew up so fast.
Two Year Old Brad fishng in the Illinois River.
This is one of my all time favorite pictures. I have it framed and hanging in my family room. What a happy time that was!
The first year we lived in Pryor Creek, Gary’s dad and his wife, Mattie, came to visit and we all went to the Illinois River (near Tahlequah) for the day. We canoed, picnicked and fished and had a fantastic time.
The same day in the Illinois River.
The boy couldn’t fish all the time, and his splashes didn’t get us very wet. That night we were exhausted. Good exhausted, but pooped!
As disorganized as I am, I still found lots of pictures of Brad all through his growing up years. School pictures, soccer pictures, his preschool Easter egg hunt when the entire class wore bunny ears made of construction paper.
The one picture I wanted but couldn’t find is of my mother, holding him when he was first born. We were at our home in C-Town. Mama is holding Brad and has the phone propped on her shoulder, talking to #4.
We need that picture. I’ll keep looking.