August 28 – “Dora, Diego, Taco”

The funeral was this morning, and the church was packed.  The guy who had been Richard's pastor for years flew in from New Mexico to do the service.  He kept everyone laughing, even the four or five grandsons.  We rode to the cemetery with some friends we haven't seen in awhile, so it was a great time of catching up and sharing funny stories.   I didn't last long this afternoon, though.  I was exhausted and fell asleep on the couch.  When I woke up Chris and I looked up some info on line about arthritis – rheumatoid and osteopathic, or some such words.  I found out that the pain I have been having in my elbows, hands, wrists, and knees that started in earnest about a month ago, combined with the fatigue that I can't seem to shake and the general weakness I have been experiencing all may be symptoms of more than just being an old guy.  Chris finally got me to agree to call the doctor Monday morning.   One of the highlights of our day came when we went to the city park at Zakary's invitation.  He really wanted to go to a pool, but there wasn't one readily available.  So off to the park we all went.  Mom sat on a bench most of the time as Zak and Caleb ran around, got Daddy and Mommy to push them in the swing, and slid down the slide.  Actually Caleb didn't run around.  He's just getting the hang of crawling, and his Mom doesn't go for the dirt thing, so Caleb got to ride in the stroller.  Speaking of the stroller, we also went for a walk in the woods.  This park had a trail through the woods.  Quite a trail.  All concrete.  Wide enough for a car to drive down.  But Mom even went with us.  And we ended up walking almost half a mile.  We sure let Mom know that that was roughly equal to walking to the end of our street and back in Galveston, so that's what we expected from her.  She wasn't exactly convinced.   Anyway, the highlight of the excursion came one of the times that Zakary was swinging.  The children next to him started counting, "Uno, dos, tres."  Not to be deterred, Zakary took up the chant, proving that he too had quite the command of a second language as well as a three-year-old's grasp of the world of Saturday morning cartoons.  His version?  "Dora.  Diego.  Taco."    1 Peter 1:3 says, "Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead"   Father, thank you for the cool evening in the park walking with family.  Amen.