there is no other entity to glorify, and to thank for my days: 1970-1992.
it was a warmer than not day in Alabama, Oxford that is/was… anyway
was enjoying the cool cement on my bare belly and chest when those
inquiries came: about about giving me a hand, so playing a trumpet
would be my ticket of making my Father proud; his record collection
was filled con Stan Kenton, Herb Alpert’s Tijuana Brass, and the two
received from my dear, older sister. Hallelujah was on my mind in
my mind as i wished/prayed to sometime in a future to make my
Dad proud. Even through squinting to see through that whipped
five; i am able to recite the phone number at grade 9, but seem
to find it difficult to recite the address you just said. such is a
lesser of the tragic symptom of head injuries. of which David
is dealing with everyday since October, 1992. but enough of
me; it’s not me that is important; it is, was, forever. will be
all about Him. those prayers sent to the clouds He did answer.
but enough for now…