Forgiveness

Forgiveness

I write this in a time of great thanks. Thanks for this exact moment, Appreciation for the moment just passed and love of the one right after I type the last letter of the word before.

I have been granted so many blessings, so many new beginnings, so much forgiveness for the wrongs I have committed in the past. Maybe you have too.

We all get frustrated with the actions of loved ones. Mostly we get frustrated with ourselves and project that frustration on others; Those who mean the most to us and point out, by their actions, the faults we all fear exist in ourselves.

I told a friend the other day that they were the most judgmental,  "non-judgmental" person I had ever met. Although at the moment accurate, If that wasn't throwing a stone in a house made of the finest crystal...

When frustration with another hits, recall your own mistakes, our own near misses. Maybe it will help love stay as the most important gift of all.

When darkness sets in we always have a chance to see a new sunrise, if we allow ourselves. When a door shuts a porthole is always ajar. There is a gift in every end because, if truly considered, we can see that a new beginning exists.

Anger with ourselves or with others only feeds a darkness that does not deserve that credit. Remember the forgiveness and let the next moment be the most joyful you have ever experienced.

Love like there is no tomorrow. Learn as though it was your first realization. And as someone told me the other day, "realize the gift in the breath you just took."

Thank you Lord for the gift of the now.

WJN

Sent from my iPhone

Fishing With Dad

Fishing With Dad

John Zaloom has been my friend for 100 years (figuratively speaking of course) and a little comment he made on a Facebook post made me so happy.

"Anybody who hung out with Will had to fish."

Zaloom was so much smarter than me. Somehow he thought he could throw a football better, but I'll have to let that slide because I wasn't any good at it either. I shall not digress less my momentary lucidity pass...

I am a fisherman. My daddy, who's birthday is today made me one. A damn good one, if I don't say so myself. He also shaped me in so many other ways.

Dad taught me how to finesse a lure and about unique presentation... in life and on the water. There was never another Dave Nelson and there won't ever  be. He and mom laid down a rough outline, taught me how to look a person in the eye, give a firm handshake and then go fishing. AKA.. Roll with it. 

When we fished, and because we did so often, we caught all manner of species of aquatic life. I once caught a triple tail in a foot of water. Another day, we waded into a hundred thousand baby sand eels. I caught momma, in darkness before dawn, as the water shown florescent green around me. We caught 50 blowfish on another traipse through the Bolivar pocket;  Didn't know what they were until one expanded in Bubba's hand. There was always a surprise on the end of the line. 

With an easy smile and sparkling blue eyes dad attracted a wonderful grab bag of friends, just like the fish. He taught us all how to welcome people and opportunity. He was kind to every person he ever met ( except for maybe a few Japs in 1942).  He fished. 

When I wasn't fishing with dad I was dragging people to brickyard pond behind the old Red Carpet Inn, as John pointed out. The only time I ever went inside the hotel was a day dad picked us up from school early to meet Jimmy Carter during his run for the Presidency. However, I spent many waking hours behind the hotel fishing the little pond. Most of the time I was on a rock in the back left corner. That little rock was my best friend's, Wilton Dalfrey, and my favorite spot. We made some big plans on that tiny island.  You see it was a little way out in the water.

I drug people on those trips because you could get to know one another. You could have adventures... see snakes, maybe an alligator!  You might also just catch something. Mainly though, you could be with a friend or two.  I have never thought about that much until the fortunate little post.

Thank you to Tommy Hurlburt, Allen Wynn, Zaloom and Shawn Grady for bringing to the forefront the memories I had stored away, but certainly not forgotten. Thanks to Wilton, wherever he may be, for all the fun days and for not letting me jump in the flooded flowing drainage ditch when it was apt to send me to the proverbial drain. Thank you Daddy for teaching me how to fish.

When you cast a line you never know what you might catch. Every once in awhile you might land a hard head, but in my experience the longer your bait is in the water the more keepers you'll put in the boat. 

Thank you all for biting and creating my "live well".  you have made life so much fun...

Every interaction we have makes an impression on someone. That point couldn't have been more clearly pointed out in such a simple way today. Know that the little things you do and every kind word you say matters. In short, fish.

On what would have been my best friend's 94th birthday I want to toast you all. I'd like to say, live, laugh, love and figuratively as well as literally, put a line in the water... You never know what you might catch.

William Joseph Nelson. 

Being There

Being There

As I drove to the golf course on the Saturday before Memorial day, Willie Nelson's duet with Sheryl Crow "Far Away Places" rang through the speakers. Mom and Dad's kind of music...

I was instantly blessed with the image of Dad standing against the fence in left field watching me play Little League baseball. I was transported to that "not so far away place".

Just as he always was, Dad is here with me. We walked so many miles together on land and in the water. Played so many games together, told so many stories to one another. I'll admit being sorry for the fibs I told him... I did so appreciate him letting me get away with most of them, even though he saw right through me.

Dad created with me. Yes we created games together; in the old Country Squire Station wagon with the multi colored doors ( a gift from a wreck in the past). We fought imaginary World War II battles.. The cars were the Yanks and the trucks the Japanese. I was his copilot and gunner and he was the pilot and commander. Of course, We never lost a battle. The imaginary was magical, but Everything else was the great "good stuff".

We built memories. Unforgettable beauties on all those golf courses, in all those bays, in the mosquito ridden canals, sleeping on  rocks, trecking through marshes, picking our way through woods.

Sometimes we talked a plenty. Most times we were just together. Helpful instructions and words of encouragement the only words spoken, and then only when necessary.

I was able to dream, to conjure oneness with nature and God. I was safe and never had a worry with you. What a gift.

From serving our country to protecting and providing for us, Dad was always there, stedfast. In a strange way the silent presence in left field says it all. No judgement, no expectation and present.

Dad made me know that I could conquer the world. I now know he faced fear, but I never had one while with him.

Father's Day without him? No, he is here.  He is with and a part of every one of his 11 children. I see his smile in every one of us. I hear his laugh when you all laugh; see him dance every time I do. Hear him sing when one of us does. He is so very near like he always was.

Happy Father's Day Dad. With all the love in the Universe.

William Joseph Nelson Sr.