Saturday I spent the day in Benton visiting with my folks and working around their house. It's part of my life now and I do this every weekend. I don't mind because I think of what all they gave up for me so it's the least I can do.
But this past weekend turned into something very special for me. My mom got into the Christmas decorating spirit and I got to haul fall stuff out to the shop and bring in some of the Christmas stuff. It also involved hanging the outside lights. We got the tree upright and ready to bend out the limbs and I started singing White Christmas. I sang about 5 words then stopped and while sitting on the floor turned to look at my Dad in his chair and said, "You're supposed to be singing this while we are fixing the tree." He said, "No, you go ahead you're doing good." To that I replied, "No Dad, it's a Cobb tradition that you sing White Christmas and Jingle Bells while we put up the tree. You always have." Then my froggy voiced Dad began to sing the most beautiful crystal clear version of White Christmas I've ever heard. I couldn't even look at him but pretended to keep working on the tree limbs... with a tear or two finding it's way down my cheek. It came out straight from his heart and there is not a price tag for that. My mom clapped from another room. Something tells me she may have shed a tear or two as well.
Life is good... when Daddy sings White Christmas.