I remember the announcement of his impending arrival. It was just after noon, and I was on an old worn out tractor, with a stinger attached to the power lift. Swinging back and forth, from a chain that was most likely too small for the job, was piece of cotton gin equipment that dad and I had removed from inside of the gin. Driving out to the junk pile, which seems to be a standard fixture at every gin in the world, I looked back to see Dad running toward me waving like a mad man. As I turned to push up the gas throttle, and engage the clutch I heard his high pitched nasally voice, “Son, ya gotta go, Paula’s water just broke!”
I got the house to find Paula calmly sitting in the living room with the bags packed and ready to go. We lived in Loop, Texas; a small farm community located about sixty-five miles south west of Lubbock, and that’s where he was to be born, Methodist Hospital, Lubbock, Texas. I asked how she was doing and she told me she wasn’t having labor pains yet, so we decided I had time to take a shower before we headed to the Hospital. The trip was uneventful, and I think I even drove the speed limit… No come to think of it the speed limit at the time was fifty-five so I know I didn’t drive the speed limit. But, I was driving a Datson 510 station wagon, and even standing on the accelerator the thing would only buzz along at sixty-five or maybe even seventy, if the wind was behind you.
We arrived and things happened in a blur as the nurses took control and got Paula all hooked up and settled in for the blessed event. Then….we….waited…and…waited. Around 8:30 that evening Paula’s dad and I did the manly thing and went to eat Mexican. I know, I know, I shouldn’t have done that, but at the time I’m thinking, There’s no need in both of us being miserable. Finally, about 3:30 in morning on August 1st, 1978 the Dr. decided this thing wasn’t going to happen on it’s own, and told us he was going to have to do a C-Section. What I haven’t told you is that young Mr. Joshua Ty Smith invented procrastination. He was already two weeks late as it was, and now that he had to come out, he was determined to make his entrance into the world wait as long as he possible could. Finally, at about 4:00 AM, I saw him for the first time.
I was speechless. They wheeled him out of the delivery room, which back then a dad could not go into, and I was speechless with amazement. All of those years believing in creation, and what I was looking at could have been evidence number one for use in the proof of evolution. The main thing I remember is how is arms seemed to reach all the way down to his feet.
Friends, I don’t know if you have done the math yet, so let me tell you, that was thirty-one years ago. Yes, Saturday was my man’s thirty first birthday, and I can say with tears in my eyes, and love in my heart, that those have been absolutely the most enjoyable, interesting, inspiring, fun, difficult, blessed years a dad could ever ask for.
I remember the first steps, and I remember the hardheaded child that I had to discipline. I remember the boy who woke up at night with his teeth clenched and his fist tightened. I remember the first window he broke with a batted ball as he and I practiced in the back yard. I remember the kid who did his homework during recess so he wouldn’t have to do it at home, and I remember the great times we had as I coached him in little league and little dribblers. I remember going to see the junior high principle because he had gotten a bad citizenship grade, and I remember taking him to see the Chief of Police so he could clear his name.
I remember watching the high school football and baseball practices, that he wished I wouldn’t watch, and I remember carrying a blanket spread across my shoulders that his nema had made for him. It had his name and number embroidered on it and I wanted everyone there to know that the quarterback/strong safety for the DC Mustangs was my son. I remember the warm feeling of lowering a son into the water, and raising a brother out of it. I remember having the privilege of handing him his High School Diploma, and the honor of being his best man when he got married.
I remember him walking out of the delivery room and saying, “Her name is Mary Alice, and she’s beautiful.” I remember him being the first of three dentists to start work on a patient in Honduras just two weeks after he graduated Dental School. He served the Lord with his God given skill before he ever made a dime for himself as a dentist.
And, I remember the last words he says before he hangs up the phone, or hugs me goodbye. “I love you dad.”
I love you too son, thanks for making being a dad such an easy and enjoyable experience.
Till next time,
Grump