Hey Cuz

When we were kids he was a lot older than me. He was fast, strong, charming, and street smart for a country boy.  I guess you could say he was road smart. He could make a game out of anything.  He would draw me in as a compatriot in conspiracy; or as the target.

There were traditions at the kids’ table that had nothing to do with a particular holiday. One was constant, he would sit across from me with a joke, or a look, or a secret on me. Because I half expected the joke attack so I was already on edge.  He would stalk until the moment I took a drink of milk and then let fly.  Startled and laughing I would grasp for control.  But the milk always shot out my nose and he would declare victory.  Covered in milk, he would declare victory. Not sure why he always sat across from me; I suppose road smarts can only take you just so far.

The other tradition was reserved for the presence of guests at the kids’ table.  The conspiracy would begin with Paul remembering a joke; always the same joke.  The venue, weather, and story length varied but it always involved two big fat sloppy elephants approaching each other.  One would look at the other and say “lets play bookends!”  At this point all the conspirators would laugh hysterically, including the guest.  A few times they even came clean in the midst of their hilarity repeating; “I don’t get it, I don’t get it”.  In the case of either tradition he would provide color commentary and relive the experience with great mirth, as if we had not been there.

We would work the farm for our Grandpa, the Duke, digging fence posts and stringing wire.  We fed cattle, reduced the squirrel population, and explored every last square foot of the Hill Ranch.  We played endless real and imagined baseball games.  He was Batman, the Lone Ranger, and Secret Agent Man; and he always made sure I knew I was his favorite sidekick.  We spent a lot of time together, followed by long times apart and I spent a lot of time missing him.  I miss him more now.

He had the coolest room I had ever seen, full of sports, cowboy, and movie stuff.  I remember a rug he made for his bedroom floor that was cut in the shape of the insignia for “Secret Agent”.  It was also customary to repeat our favorite line from the theme song often saying “given you a number, and takin away your name…”  By far the best part of his room; and please do not tell Aunt Velma about this, was the life size poster of Ursula Andress on the back of his door.  It was risky and brilliant (but she must never know).

When he was a teenager he was so nice to me that he even treated me well when his parents made him have me tag along on a date at the drive in.  Years later, when he was visiting us I returned the favor.  He agreed to go to the movies with my girlfriend and me.  Then as if he did not remember my killjoy presence at the drive in years before, he took a walk. “Hey Cuz” he always began, “I’m hungry, are you two hungry?  I am going to walk over to the snack bar and I think the line is really long so I don’t think I won’t be back for about half an hour.

His love of games became a love of competition. He excelled at many sports but he loved most of them whether he played well or not.  The love of the game was evident in his commitment; call it tenacity, in the most meaningless of competitive endeavors.  Horseshoes or College Football, it was all the same.

He had been living far away for some time so we were thrilled when he came to our wedding.  We admired him so much that we introduced him to one of our dearest friends.  And he must have appreciated it because in fairly short order he made our friend, our cousin. We are still very happy about this; but I don’t think he did it for us.

There are a hundred other stories of adventure and misadventure but the occasion dictates that we fast-forward to a date exactly 21 years past.  The birth of Michelle who celebrates her golden birthday August 21st.

Most men think they need a son to fill their hearts desire, to carry on their name and play out the dreams of glory that may have eluded them.  When a man first meets his daughter those desires fade because he is no longer in possession of his heart.  In the case of Paul and Michelle, she not only held his heart but she fulfilled his dreams of glory as no boy could. 

Her mother’s traits and influence are obvious in the young woman Paige has become.  She is so much more than just a combination of her wonderful parents.  She is well loved, and she will now pursue merit and grace with the rest of us adults.  But today I see in her Paul’s conspiratorial wit, his graciousness, and his love of the game, any game.

Happy Birthday Michelle.  God pursues you.  He will equip and strengthen you for many responsibilities.  One being that you are your father’s legacy. We love you Cuz.