A Slice of Bacon

I grew up in East Texas, right where the devastating fires are tearing up beautiful parts of that area. There is a place called Camp Fern north of my city that now has had four generations of my family, dating back to my grandmother, and with my nephew attending for the first time this past summer. My grandmother, now 86 beautiful years old, lives out by the camp, on the same lake, and god love her soul, isn’t exactly as sharp as she used to be. We were lucky; she was the type of woman that was just as quick at 75 as she was at 45, and always cared for us grandkids like we were the only people in the world. Now, the stories go around about some of the funny stuff she says, like every old person does, and as my mom and dad had to snag her from her lakehouse to bring her a safer location earlier this week, away from the fires, she told my mom something that made me chuckle, and brought a little light to an otherwise nasty situation. 

She told my mom, “If the fires had come close enough to my house, I would have just got in the canoe and paddled out in the middle of the lake.” This is a lady that uses a walker, and has trouble sitting down. The image of her in a canoe in the the middle of the lake just proves how awesome she really is. She’s 86, and I’m sure if it would have come down to it, she would have tried her hardest to get in that old, yellow canoe and paddle out to safety. 

If you have a minute, pray for the fires to stop. The last thing I want is my grandmother to have to rudder.