I’m in love with my dad.

Do I love him? Yes. But I’m talking about being in love. I like him. I like being around him. He’s funny. He makes me laugh.  He’s special.

You see I didn’t grow up throwing the ball with him in the backyard. We never sat by the fireplace and had older man, younger man talks. No, my dad worked all the time, all the time. He left home for his pipe shop job around 4:30 am, returned around 3 pm and would leave again around 4:00 pm for his nighttime janitorial job. On the weekends he did plumbing with a family friend, Goat.  

Yet, as much as he worked, we all knew he was there for us, a reasoning safe presence. For me, his oldest and only son, he foresaw a changing world. A world he was willing to send his son into but would not live in himself. He accepted his supporting role in life but wanted a starring role for his son. So he worked. He worked to make the funds necessary to send me, and my two sisters, to private school, buy us a house, allow us to live comfortable lives. When things got tight, we, the children, would be made aware of it because we were a team and everyone pitched in to make things work. 

What I remember most and what I enjoy most now is listening to him talk. Born in 1925, in Elmore County Alabama, he’s seen a world I could not have survived. Almost being accosted by white strangers because they thought my light-skinned mother was a white woman. Having to step off the sidewalk when a white couple approached. Working all day, sun up to sun down behind a mule for 50 cents. Building his own bicycle from spare parts and riding with his brother into downtown Wetumpka, Alabama to go to the movies, and of course, sit in the black section of the theatre.  Going to the army at 18. Afterward, moving to Birmingham to join his sisters and brothers as they transitioned from rural country life to city life, marriage and a family.

His wife, my mother, had been raised Catholic and had gone to Catholic schools. She set the standards. He converted to Catholicism. He worked so we could go to Catholic schools. When I became a popular athlete at the school where I integrated the sports teams, what he didn’t understand he didn’t stand in the way of. He never limited me. When I pushed back against his more restrained ways he supported me.

There are times, while visiting him that we will take a drive to visit with his friend, Kit. They worked together at Acipco Pipe. Kit’s ten years younger than my dad and babysits a tire service he runs with his wife. There are few customers so he and my dad can have an hour or two to just talk.

They both survived 35 years in the plant. Made it out. Retired and have lived long enough to enjoy it. They witnessed their place of work go from their supervisor referring to them as “These are my Ni_ _ ers,” to a measure of respect for who they were as men. They laugh a lot at the supervisor who they told jokes to in order to get him laughing and telling jokes. While he entertained them they got to rest.

Our adult worlds have been different; his blue collar, mine entrepreneurial. Sometimes that has been frustrating.  When I vent about a client issue, he comes back with “running the ball, but you got to be blocking and you need a tall receiver who can snatch that ball, then you can score the ball.”

Traveling in parallel universes is sometimes frustrating. “What are you talking about?” I wanted to say. But I studied him. Now 93 and hard of hearing, he still is the master of his shrinking domain, holding on to whatever control he can.

I thought about what he’d said. The light went on. It was a strategy. A strategy I could utilize. I would utilize. I had to get back on offense. Score some points. I would.

This trip I spent three days with him. My sisters, his angels, are his full time caregivers. I come in once a month to substitute and give them a tiny break. Daddy and I talk, watch television, go on rides through familiar territory, and eventually nod out on the couch in the evening.

The hardest part is leaving.  We always make good eye contact, our eyes express the thankfulness of being in each other’s lives and the loving words he cannot verbalize but doesn’t have to. I know.  

He always says,  “I hope I see you again.” I always give him a big hug and say, “You will.”  

I’m in love with my dad.

Happy Birthday Dad!

Most mothers have to wait months and sometimes years, after a son or daughter marry, to get grandchildren. I’ve always been one to make my own rules and forge my own path. Getting to become “Gram” was no different!

When our son married my amazing new daughter (notice I did not say, “daughter-in-law”), we automatically got grandchildren (laughing). I’ve heard people say it and never really understood, how you can love your grandchildren with every fiber in your being… now I get it. Don’t think there is anything I wouldn’t do within my power for Jenna, Channing, Parker, LuLu, and Collin. Anything! They are amazing, well adjusted, appreciative, and accomplished young people, ranging from age 26 to 9. Another time, I’ll fill you in on all the details. Right now, I want to talk about my first Christmas with (some of) my grandchildren (laughing)!

When Dixson and Sissy told us they could come for Christmas, I cried… then I started making a list! Favorite foods I already knew from Parker and Lu coming last summer. Gift ideas and little surprises. Decorations. House and Carpet cleaning. Things to do on that Sunday after they arrived and Monday for Christmas Eve. I had a full page of things to check off. Excited doesn’t even come close. Oh, for sure I was glad to spend Christmas with my son and daughter… But!!!

On the Sunday before Christmas, I woke up before 6am, too excited to sleep any longer! Dixson, Sissy, Parker, and Lu were leaving Savannah after Dixson got off work at the restaurant where he cooks. They would arrive around 9am and I wanted to make sure everything was ready. Decorations inside and out… Check. The weeks and weeks of food cooking, cookies, cakes, and pies in the fridge for warming… Check. Pot of soup ready for dinner… Check. Waffle batter, bacon, sausage, and fruit for breakfast when they arrived… Check. Gifts wrapped under the tree and stockings hung… Check. Bedrooms fresh and decorated… Check. Pop (aka Thom) ready… Check. FINALLY the text that they were 25 minutes away came!!!

Hugs. Kisses. Tears of happiness. The moment they walked into the door, I couldn’t stop smiling. They were here!!

Breakfast Sunday morning, then Parker, LuLu, and I just “had” to go to Target to get “stuff”… without parents, of course (laughing). We had a ball! There was a new game just calling our name (they like playing board games as much as we do). Some slime had Lu’s name on it and some gummy worms had Parker’s. So did a few other things. We escaped Target with minimal damage done. Back home, Pop decided to take Parker and LuLu to Wild Willy’s Adventure Park to play laser tag (something he had never played), ride go carts, and play games in the Arcade. The three remaining adults crashed and took naps (lol)! Parker won laser tag, Pop won air hockey, and Lu won in the Arcade. We played our new game, Oregon Trail after they got back, then had homemade beef vegetable soup with cheese and crackers for dinner and watched a Christmas favorite It Happened on Fifth Avenue… highly recommend it. Off to bed for everyone.

Christmas Eve, we had breakfast, showered and dressed, then went to the Okaloosa Island Pier to look at the marine life down in the water below. Lu touched a mostly domesticated pelican that hangs around the pier waiting for the fishermen and women to toss him (or her) fish. Heading back, we just had to stop at the Splurge Trampoline Park! Dixson, Parker, Lu, and… Gram jumped! Pop and Sissy watched and cheered us on. LuLu bested me on the one where you have to jump over a spinning boom arm (laughing), after falling down on both of my tries, I gave up. But I won on the obstacle course!! We jumped on everything there while Parker organized a group of boys into a “HORSE” basketball game on another trampoline… he won! Tired, and hungry, we headed home to warm and cook the rest of Christmas dinner. We ate until no one could eat any more, then cleaned up and bundled into the car to go look at Christmas lights. Because they had to leave on Christmas morning, we opened gifts that night. Pop and LuLu took turns playing “Santa,” handing out packages and stockings. Paper and ribbon piled up. Lots of excited squeals. Plenty of thank you hugs and kisses. Everything I could possibly have wanted and more.

Christmas morning. Breakfast. Loading up a cooler full of food for them to take home. More hugs, kisses, and tears. Then, they were gone.

Grandchildren at Christmas are the BEST EVER. Maybe next year, all of them can be with us!

Christmas food, beverages, gifts, decorations, and stockings $$$... Gram’s First Christmas with Grandchildren, PRICELESS!!!

Christmas is a special time for many children in the world. Those who celebrate the holiday suddenly remember around Thanksgiving, that they need to be “good” in order for Santa to come on Christmas Eve. The world is filled with suddenly helpful, obedient, and non-fussing-with-sibling, children (laughing)! It’s a wonder that parents don’t arrange for “Christmas”to arrive every month, just to keep children in line!

There are many Christmases that stand out for me. Christmas of 1964 is near the top of the list.

I remember being so extra good that November and December.At seven, I did my chores without being reminded… a first; I brushed my teeth for real instead of just swishing with water; I went outside and ice skated in the park with my friends instead of staying in my room reading as I usually did… I was the model poster child. It didn’t last beyond Christmas when I reverted to my usual “Oh Joyce!” persona (laughing). But that year, I had an extra special Christmas list.

Christmas morning arrived and I leapt out of bed and ran to my parent’s room. “Mommy, Daddy! We have to see if Santa came!” I yelled excitedly. My mommy, who was about ready to deliver my brother at any moment, smiled up at me. “Go look and see, but don’t touch anything until we get there,” she said. I ghosted!

In our living room, I looked across the vast distance,zeroing in on the Christmas tree. Something caught my eye and I turned to the right. “I got it! I got it!” I screamed, jumping up and down. “Santa brought my piano!!!” There it sat, a brand new Lyon & Healy upright piano. I plopped down on the bench and lifted the lid, already envisioning the beautiful sounds I would make, just like the woman at the symphony I’d seen in January. I would be just as famous as she was in no time! Placing my hands on the keys, I positioned my fingers just as hers had been and plunked out the most awful sound in the world (laughing). Stunned, I resettled my fingers and tried again…same mess.

“You’ll have to take lessons, Joyce,” Mommy spoke from the doorway. “Practice and practice and you will play beautifully some day.”

“But I want to play Christmas music for everyone today,” I wailed. “I should be able to play, I watched everything she did.”

“Who did?” Mommy asked, confused.

“The lady with the symphony in January,” I exclaimed. “I want to play like her.” By now, I was crying.

“Joyce, stop. You will be able to play just as beautifully as the soloist at the symphony someday, if you practice hard and do everything Mr. Wooten tells you to do.”

“But I have been!” I explained through my tears. “I thought I just needed my own piano to be able to play better. It should have worked.”

“Oh Joyce,” Mommy sighed, brushing my cheek, “It just doesn’t work that way. You have to focus and practice.”

I slammed the keyboard lid down and got off the bench without a word. Marching across the living room in search of more cooperative gifts!

On my way, I spotted the bike… no, The Bike… the 3-speed English Racer bike that was just like my cousin David’s, only for a girl. Euphoria filled me again, the piano fiasco long forgotten… and I never did playlike the symphony soloist, by the way!

“Can I go outside and ride it? Please Mommy?” I begged, hopping up and down.

“May I, not can I. No Joyce, there is snow everywhere. You may ride when the snow clears.”

“Can I ride it in the basement then?”

“May I… Yes, but not today,” Came her automatic response.

Further frustrated, my eyes landed next on the brand new ice skates with their gleaming white boots and silver sharp blades. Promptly sitting on the floor, I threw off my slippers and shoved my feet into the skates. Already picturing myself gliding across the ice just like the Olympic Skaters we watched every winter. I could hear the roar of the crowd and see myself standing on the 1^st Place box with my Gold Medal around my neck. Standing on my brand new ice skates, so much better than the babyishstrap-on ones I currently had. This will make all the difference, I thought. “Can I… May I go across the street to skate on the rink?” I added a big smile, certain that it would make the difference.

“No, Joyce. It’s Christmas morning.”

“Right, so I should get to play with my presents then,” I pointed out. “It’s not fair to get presents I can’t do anything with!”

“Joyce,” she sighed, “Just open the rest of your gifts.”

Turning back to the bounty under and around the ceiling tall tree, I spotted a large box, beautifully wrapped, and grabbed for it. “My Easy Bake Oven!!!” I yelled. “Uncle Cal got it! He got it for me! I’m going to cook wonderful dinners in it!” I looked up at Mommy with a big grin. “I can cook Christmas dinner for you, so you can rest with the baby.”

“Thank you Joyce, why don’t you practice on simple dishes first though?”

“Okay,” I yelled. “I’ll cook something now.” Then I paused.Was this to be yet another gift I had to wait until I could use it… or would this one get me a “pass”?

“Ladies don’t yell Joyce. That’s fine, just don’t make a mess,” Mommy said as she turned toward the kitchen.

“Oh wait! I have to open the rest of my stuff and you and Daddy have to open yours.” She turned back and walked over to one of the chairs to sit.

Mommy watched me open the pile of presents and toys that could have been distributed to an army of children with an indulgent smile. I ripped and tossed paper and bows all over the living room. Daddy came out and sat to watch.

Finally, finished and exhausted, we had all unwrapped the Christmas bounty and exclaimed over every item. Ready to start baking, I turned back to the Easy Bake Oven box, prepared to open it and read the instructions.“Make your list so you can write your thank-you notes tomorrow,” Mommy said over her shoulder on the way to the kitchen to start Christmas dinner. Sigh, always the thank-you notes, Ithought. Bet other children don’t have to do this… just us! I left the living room, headed to my room for paper and pencil to make the dreaded list. It was the same for every birthday and Christmas. Make a list of the gift and who gave it to me. Use my stationary to write a thank-you note to every person… even relatives… get the addresses and stamps from Mommy… put them in the mailbox for the postman to pick up. Sheesh, I already thanked them yesterday when we were out delivering our gifts and I’ll see everybody else when they get here today for dinner. So why do I always have to write and mail the notes?I grumbled inwardly. If I have children,I’m not going to make them write thank-you notes! was my final thought of defiance as I finally returned and started my task.

Later that morning, Nana arrived with hugs and kisses, then Uncle Cal and my cousins, Gigi, Auntie, Grandpa Ed, and a host of other relatives filled our house with laughter and love. Mommy came up to me and hugged me. “I’m going to the hospital to get your little brother or sister now,” she whispered in my ear. “Why is he there? Is he sick?” I asked, having already decided this summer that I would have a brother, not a sister.

“No Joyce, that’s where Mommy’s go so the doctor can take the baby out of their tummy’s.”

“Oh. Okay then. Come back with him soon so I can play with him,” I replied, engrossed in the cake recipe for my oven. She kissed me and left.

The rest of the day was filled with people, phone calls from relatives in other states, and playing games. I plunked out a one-fingered version of Jingle Bells on my new piano, to my disgust and everyone else’s delight. I made recordings of everyone on my new tape recorder from Uncle Cal.

At about 8:30 that evening, Nana came into my room to wake me up. “Mommy wants to talk to you,” she said. “Put your robe and slippers on and come to the phone.” Sleepily, I complied. Walking into the kitchen, I took the phone from Nana. “Hi Mommy,” I sleepily mumbled. “Joyce,” Mommy said, “You hav ea little brother.” “I know. I already told you that I was having a brother.” I replied, hung up the phone, and went back to bed (laughing).

6/7/2016

“DelFest, a bluegrass festival in my hometown,” “How was that…I can’t even imagine…”

You can imagine, but until you experience DelFest for yourself, you won’t understand it. DelFest is four days of music, fun and love to kick off your summer.

Start with the setting, DelFest is located at the Allegany County Fairgrounds in Cumberland, Maryland. The fairgrounds are settled in the valley, the nearby Potomac River separates Maryland from the mountains overlooking in West Virginia. 2016 was the ninth year of DelFest on Memorial Day weekend in Cumberland. The weather has varied over the years, chilly days when you better layer up and hot days where it’s best to put on your swimsuit and listen to the music echo off the mountains while you float down the cool river. The usual rain and thunder storms like to make their appearance too, but it’s just part of the DelFest tradition now it seems. The only protest DelFest goers have for the weather, “Del yeah, hail no!” (Hail has made an appearance or two).

So what is DelFest? According to delfest.com, “DelFest was born from the desire to create a family-friendly music festival celebrating the rich legacy of McCoury music by providing a forum for world-class musical collaborations while also exposing fresh new talent.” There’s Del McCoury, the father, an American bluegrass legend who sings and plays guitar in “The Del McCoury Band” along with his sons, Ronnie, who plays the mandolin and other son, Rob, who plays the banjo. Cumberland was the first site Del looked at and he was sold when he saw the river, the rock cliffs and perspective festival grounds.

"Once we had a festival, we didn't plan on having it just one year, we wanted it to go on and be a part of the community and help the community," said McCoury. (Cumberland Times News)

Del "working on a building"    //Source Cumberland Times News

Through the years DelFest has raised and donated over $250,000 for local charities. This year the McCoury’s participated in a Habitat for Humanity “Build Blitz” where they helped construct a home in Cumberland. The heart and soul the McCoury’s put into this festival is returned by the love and sense of community DelFest brings each year.

The Del McCoury Band is the heart of the music lineup. Each year, on the first day of DelFest, The Del McCoury Band kicks off Thursday with sound check. Beyond the family band is a mix up of incredibly talented Americana, bluegrass, rock, funk and soul artists. This year there were 36 music groups that played on three different stages. Some big name artists and returning festival favorites are Railroad Earth, Greensky Bluegrass, Old Crow Medicine Show, Yonder Mountain String Band, Trampled by Turtles, The Infamous Stringdusters and Keller Williams. The up-and-coming band The Broomestix is a funky 10-person band, whose members graduated from high school just a few days before playing this year. Evan McCoury, Ronnie’s son, is the guitar player in the band. The variety of music and venue space plays a huge role in attracting fans from all ages to the festival.

The Infamous Stringdusters on the main stage (my favorite band)

So what is more fun than spending four days in the beauty of the mountains of Maryland, listening to amazing musicians, dancing in the rain and being surrounded by love? Nothing I can think of, but it does get better. There is plenty of good food at the festival, my favorite is Pie for the People pizza. There are great beverage stations to grab a coffee drink, a water, or a beer complete with a Klean Kanteen souvenir cup. There are vendors selling instruments, clothes- including kilts, tarpestys, Eno hammocks and handmade crafts and artwork. And the trend occurs again, those (vendors) who come to DelFest come back. DelFest even provides a kidzone with many activities for the children to enjoy the festival. There are arts and crafts, hula hoops and jump ropes to use and scheduled workshops. On Saturday my little sister went to a young yogis class and her and I got our lips read by Ariana. If you are looking for something fun for the whole family on Memorial Day weekend, make your way to Cumberland.

My little sister and I getting our "lip readings"

Now you know the origin, the music and the fun, but you still don’t know the meaning. DelFest is a community, a family if you will. I have been to all but the first DelFest and I’ve seen it not only grow in population, but togetherness. DelFest has its own culture and vocabulary. “Delbows” (basically a high five, but with elbows) are exchanged all weekend, and “Del Yeah” is said in excitement, approval and used as an overall feeling. Those who are lucky to get close enough to Del can even score a “Delfie.” During the weekend it’s common to see several crowd members wearing stickers that read “Del Yeah,” “Fun sure is fun” “I have no complaints” and more. The staff and festival goers are focused on making DelFest the best it can be and ensuring everyone has a great time.

In 2016, artist Dre Anders requested any DelFest fans to send in a video of themselves singing “Get Together” by The Youngbloods to use as the chorus and for the video of her recording. The song and video were released right before DelFest and the names of those who participated were featured in the credits of Dre’s album. The video perfectly captures the fun, the good music and the meaning behind Delfest. I am happy to be one of those people in the video (1:03, bottom left). Watch it here: https://www.facebook.com/dre.anders.9/videos/g.603356589759681/1315734658442801/?type=2&theater

I go home to Cumberland twice a year: Christmas and DelFest. And DelFest is definitely my favorite holiday. I have volunteered the past seven years for the beverage crew and this year I was even given an opportunity to be late night beverage supervisor. I love that I am able to volunteer 16 hours of my weekend to the festival in exchange for a weekend pass. If I have sparked your interest, start following the DelFest social media accounts and go ahead and start planning to attend the 10^th anniversary of DelFest in 2017. If you have any questions don’t hesitate to contact me at emilyhedrick13@gmail.com.

DEL YEAH!!!