BayouKidz | Remembering Our Privilege

article by Cindy G. Foust

Happy mid-year to all my BayouLife friends. Many of you let me know you missed me last month, and I am so relieved to know that there are people out there actually reading my column! I did in fact take a month off and had the opportunity to “chaperone” my daughter’s senior trip. I think I will start this month’s column right there, folks, and say that cruising is my idea of total rest and relaxation. It is. For starters, you have absolutely no cell phone coverage so you are forced to completely detach from your life for an entire week. I wasn’t sure how I was going to like that at first…it definitely takes some getting used to, but by the end of the week, I was completely reset and recharged.

But it didn’t start out that way. 

If you’ve never cruised, as I had not, shutting the door to your room that size that allows you to take a nap, shave your legs, dry your hair and shower all in the same spot takes a little getting used to. My sister was my roommate, as both our children graduated together, and she will tell you that as soon as that door closed to our room for the first time, I sat down on the bed and started “squalling.” I’m not kidding. I have never considered myself claustrophobic but in that moment, that room caved in on me and I was considering sleeping on the deck! Shelley had to pray me through it, and I was able to get used to it, but it took a minute. The trip itself was glorious, I loved spending this time with my daughter, and we traveled with some wonderful kids and their parents to three beautiful countries. But it only takes visiting somewhere outside the United States to make you realize just how good we have it.

In the month where we celebrate the birthday of this great country that we are fortunate to live in, I was reminded on this trip first hand of that privilege. There’s no doubt that the landscape draws you in and in some cases literally takes your breath, but once your lens moves to the country and its people, then you start to see a different picture. In one such country, (we visited three), I realized that many of its citizens didn’t have indoor plumbing or even electricity. Children are literally selling their wares, following visitors around until you buy a bracelet or scarf. Listen, I am for free enterprise, but it’s hard to tell a 4-year old child no! Sailing back into the states a few days later had me all in my thoughts about the fortunate life we have and how blessed we are to live in the United States. The day after we got home was Memorial Day and I watched with tears as my nephew got the honor that my Daddy always took so seriously, and that was putting his flag out. Daddy. I know I am executing my usual pivot right about here, but I’m not really. You see, my Daddy did not serve in the armed forces, but you would never meet a more patriotic person. He took his role as the “patriarch” of the family very seriously and raised his children and grandchildren to give reverence to our great country, and those who serve and defend the respect they deserve. Daddy. It’s been 10 months readers, since Daddy left us and as I write this column, it’s two days post Father’s Day. I didn’t expect the grief to jump on me the way it did, but it was a tough few days for our family. I haven’t wrote about losing Big Daddy in my column, which is kind of unusual for me, because I write about most everything in my life. Friends and family beware, because you will likely end up in my column at some point or another. I have had to navigate loss before, I am transparent in that and there are times when I feel it is appropriate to share in that loss. I always think, when I do, that perhaps there’s someone that needs to hear it. With Daddy, though, it has been harder to do.

I think when we lose someone that we love so much, no matter the circumstances, our lives are never really the same. Oh, we go through the motions, just as my family has for the last 10 months, but it’s different. It’s quieter. It’s darker. We’ve pushed through the holidays, through tears and laughs and memory sharing, but Father’s Day jolted me this year. I wish I had room in this column to write about my daddy’s life, in a way that would honor him. In short, Daddy was a hard working man’s man who was principled and patriotic and smart and hilarious. All of that in one 6’6 bundle. If you knew Big Daddy, you’ve likely experienced one of his bear hugs or been called “Babe” or “Bubba.” If you knew Big Daddy you probably know he never met a stranger and could literally talk to an eggplant in the grocery store. If you knew Big Daddy, you’ve probably heard about the time he walked to school 10 miles, in the snow, uphill, with no shoes on. Or the time he hitchhiked from college because he was homesick and wanted to see his mother. If you knew Big Daddy you probably know how much he loved my mother, his children or his grandchildren. Well, especially his grandchildren. I told him frequently, “Daddy, I don’t know who you are but you aren’t the same person who raised me.” They did no wrong, and he loved talking about them, their accomplishments and how perfect they all were. If you knew Big Daddy, you probably also knew that the last two years of his life were a struggle for him and it was hard to navigate, both for him and his family trying to take care of him. It’s why our grief is conflicted…are we grieving for Daddy to be here with those struggles, selfishly wanting him here? No, for me, I am grieving for my Daddy in the 78 years before that. The devoted husband, the praying father, the “nobody tells a story like him storyteller,” the loyal friend, the Christ centered man that loved his Father, his family and his country. That’s who I miss. So here we are, two days post Father’s Day and just a few weeks away from the holiday that Daddy loved so much, and I find myself with tear stained cheeks (again) blubbering my way to the finish line. What a privilege it is to belong to Big Daddy, and what a privilege it is to live in a country that celebrates family and this great nation. Thank you, readers, for letting me honor Daddy’s life in the best way I know how, through the pages of this column; It was a life well lived, well loved, and leaves us with cherished memories for the rest of our lives.

Cindy G. Foust is a wife, mom, author and blogger. You can find her blog at the alphabetmom.com for weekly columns about home life,  parenting, small business stories and insight with a smidgen of literacy. Give her a like or follow on Facebook and Instagram.