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Happy Birthday Nellene Cobb 💝 You sure made the last few years with Daddy fun and possible. Thank you for all you continue to do to help with the Boyd farm. We love you and couldn’t do it without you. 🥰 🎉☀️ 🎂 🍦 🎶
As Father’s Day approaches, I try to stay grounded in my childhood memories. It’s easier for me that way. I won’t lie, but of all the days in the year, Father’s Day is one of the most painful. I just take a deep breath and remind myself to count my blessings. I have many.
I have been blessed with an amazing Dad and Granddad. Rather than be deeply saddened by the memory, I choose to think about the strong male examples I have had in my life to admire, respect, and love.
Granddad was a funny character. I remember waiting in Meme’s rocking chair on a hot summer day, the swamp cooler blowing on me, for Granddad to come back from the grocery store. He would bring in a brown paper sack, and I would follow him into their kitchen. He loved to surprise me with orange sherbet ice cream. I loved watching him scoop it out of the paper box. I have the little blue bowls in my kitchen now that he used to scoop it into.
After we both got our ice cream, he would turn on his laughing box. This was like a sound machine, but there was no white noise or ocean sound, it was just a man laughing hysterically. As we ate our ice cream, Granddad would laugh so hard. I remember laughing just because he was laughing.
Daddy was a peanut farmer just like Granddad had been. Daddy loved to tell the story of whenever he would buy a new piece of equipment, Granddad would tell him he didn’t need it.
“That’s too much money.”
“The old one is working fine.”
But then, the next week, Daddy would be in town and overhear Granddad telling all the men at the feed store about the wonderful new tractor or plow that Daddy had just bought. This made Daddy feel so good. He knew that his Dad was just watching out for him, but deep down was very proud.
The memories.
The moments.
The love.
These men.
My Daddy and Granddaddy.
As Father’s Day approaches, I try to stay grounded in my childhood memories. Do you have a favorite memory of the father or grandfather in your life? #fathersday #grief #theoboyd #hope #memories
What do you do when your mind starts spiraling into worry and sadness? I’ve started doing this little song, and it really has helped me. It’s an out-loud reminder that no matter what, everything‘s gonna be OK. Daddy always said this song is not just for kids - adults need it too. #Jesuslovesme #worry-exercise #theoboyd #thinktheo #healing
This was my view this morning. Fog had set in the Bethel Community here in Texas. I could hear the sounds of morning - birds singing and cars in the distance, but it didn’t look like morning. It was dark.
Often, in our dark times, we forget that light still exists. It’s dark. Light isn’t something we feel anymore, or remember. But, as time goes by, we are able to look up and see that light is still there. It’s been there the whole time, shining on us through the fog, showing us the way.
“Hope is always there - waiting for you.” ~ Hope All The Way
Summer is coming fast.
Living back on the farm, I recognize the smells, the sounds, and the way the sun sets in the evening. Memories flood as I hear Daddy’s whistling, Momma cooking in the kitchen, and my baby girl laughing and begging me to go back outside.
The red boots in the photo were a hit! She loved them so much and couldn’t wait to wear them in the field to help her “Bob” pick melons.
Growing up on a farm in Central Texas was such a blessing, and being able to share that experience with my daughter was a double blessing. Being back here now, although painful at times, has given me happiness and hope for tomorrow.
I guess she could say in the photo below, “I carried a watermelon.” #farmlife #texasfarmers #texas #watermelon #theoboyd
I am so proud of my nephew Jonah Locke who graduated yesterday from L.D. Bell High School. I know Momma, Daddy, and his father, were all shining down on him.
On my way home, I saw the most beautiful and vibrant rainbow, and there they were. ❤️
This is my Uncle. I called him Junior.
This photo was taken in 1942, right before he left for WWII. He worked a little gas station that my grandparents owned, in the road right in front of where our farmhouse sits now. Where he is standing in this photo would be my bus stop - just 37 years later.
Steve Boyd, Jr., (Junior) was seventeen years older than my daddy. He was on a bus headed to WWII, when he got word that my daddy had been born.
He was a Merchant Marine, and he would tell me stories of the ships and the dangerous waters. I always tried to imagine what it was like - jumping to swim in the water that was covered with fire.
On this Memorial Day, I remember my Uncle Junior and his service. He was sweet, kind, admired, respected, and loved. Daddy looked up to him in so many ways, and now - they are together forever.
I wonder what Uncle Junior would think of my new house just a few feet away from where he was born?
Time goes by, we move forward, but we do not forget the sacrifice of those that went before us.
Uncle Junior made it home safely, but so many did not. This Memorial Day - let`s remember the price that was paid for the freedom we have. It may seem that things are bad and tense right now, but we still live in a free country because of the brave individuals that fought for it. #MemorialDay #worldwar2 #Remember #freedom
1. Be present.
2. Listen to them.
3. Be present.
4. Listen to them.
5. Be present.
This may seem too simple. We always think we have to do something big or say something profound - we don’t.
Some of the most memorable moments, early on in my grief, were when a friend would be with me and listen to me, really listen.
Your presence matters.
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