Counting The Days...and Hours

This time next week…at exactly this time, on this day, I’ll be…

Have you ever been so excited about an event that you count the days and hours until it happens?

A road trip. That beach vacation. Your wedding day. Birth of a baby?

And when the event comes and goes, in remembrance of the special occasion, you say to yourself…”this time last week, I was…” and then you sigh, longing to be back in that time.

That’s me today.

I’ve been counting the weeks and days ever since plans were made six weeks ago.

Last month, my husband and I were traveling home on Interstate 20 east from Mississippi to Georgia. My dad lives in Mississippi and we’d gone to attend my Uncle Don’s funeral. My dad is the youngest of seven, at 82 years young. He has one surviving brother, Uncle Bob, who lives in northern Arkansas. Uncle Bob is 89, I think, and was also at his brother’s funeral.

While we were all together, Uncle Bob kept inviting me to come visit him and his wife Wilma in Mountain Home, Arkansas. The day before we all left, Uncle Bob repeatedly said, “I dare you. I dare you to come and visit us.” 

It was quite endearing, irresistible and well, don’t dare me to do something because I'm likely to accept.

My dad and all his siblings grew up in Mt. Ida, Arkansas, except for a 10-year gig in New Mexico, during the 1940’s.

Throughout my childhood, during the 1960s and early ‘70s, we visited my grandparents in this tiny Arkansas town, where they still lived in the old rock house on the hilltop of a dirt road, far off the beaten path.

We’d travel from northern Arkansas, where we lived at the time,

winding through the Ozark Mountains southward to Mt. Ida, to visit my grandparents. They must have heard the gravel and dirt road come to life, beneath our car tires, because they’d always be waiting on the porch to greet us, as my parents, my two brothers and I approached their house.

Oh, the memories! A time when life was simple and exploring the outdoors filled our days.

So, as my husband and I drove home, six weeks ago, he suggested that if I was ever going to visit my uncle in Arkansas, the time was now. That’s when plans unfolded to take my dad with us, so he could give us the grand tour of Mt. Ida, then head north to Uncle Bob’s.

The bittersweet reality is, this will most likely be the last time my dad and I will see Mt. Ida, and visit his brother in Mountain Home.

Why am I so excited about going back to Mt. Ida, Arkansas, that I’m counting the days and hours before we leave?

And why would I think it’s interesting enough to share it with you?

Well, I could use a little bit of escape and distraction from all the crazy going on today. Couldn’t you?

I’m going to take a step back in time to when kids got dirty, swam in creeks and ate grandma’s fried chicken on a river bank.

I'm also inviting my brothers and all my cousins who share the same sentiments of Grandma and Grandpa Jackson, the old rock house in Mt. Ida and all it represents, to escape their daily busyness and join me and my dad on our upcoming Arkansas Adventure 2017.

So, this time next week, the adventure begins, as we head west on Interstate 20.

Until then, let’s stay the course with this:

But the mercy of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear Him, and His righteousness to children's children. Psalm 103:17

Love,

Terri

(Photos courtesy of Pixabay - www.pixabay.com)