Ford

Everything I Know About God...

My father didn’t teach me about God but in some very significant ways he was a great role model. When I was young I never doubted that he loved me. I don’t remember much that happened before I was seven or eight years old but I can look at whole truck loads of pictures my parents have saved over the years and it's obvious they were thrilled I was in their life.

There are lots of pictures of trips to the lake, me out playing in a small inflatable boat, a face full of freckles and a shock of bright blond hair across my face. I always look very well fed and happy to be alive. I see my dad down at the edge of the lake,washing his first new car, a red 1963 Ford Comet. He is very fit and dashing and my little brother is next to him with a sponge in his hand trying to help. My mom is relaxing nearby with a thermos of hot coffee.

The pictures taken at Christmas are ridiculous. There we are, my brother and I standing in front of a brightly lit Christmas tree. I have on a western style shirt with a holster around my waist. I’m wearing cowboy boots and I have a Sheriff’s badge pinned to my breast pocket and I am pointing my six shooter at my dad while he is taking my picture. Behind us there is a mountain of presents around the tree that look that are stacked one on top of the other .We would eventually take turns opening our gifts and the process would take several hours. I remember skis, trains, clothes and books, a box of bright orange mandarin oranges, chocolates, nuts, raisins and even a small glass of real eggnog. Like I said, it was ridiculous, over the edge. Mom and dad wanted to demonstrate that they loved us by giving us all the best stuff they could.

Things would become more confused when I became a teenager. When I was twelve years old we moved from a small town in northern Canada to a big town in southern California. My parents didn’t have a clue what they were getting us into. They only knew it was time to get...

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