As I sit here by myself, with the electric fireplace glowing in the background, I think, “I can’t believe I’m going to be thirty next month.”   March 16 th to be exact .   I’m going to be a thirty year old woman like the woman acting in the Hallmark movie I’m watching.   A new adventure awaits me as I stand atop the thirty year old mountain.   As I overlook the adventurous summit, there is a pinnacle peak missing, my dad.   I will be traveling emerald roads and picking fresh flowers without his guidance.   What would he think of me now?   Would he be proud of the woman I’m becoming?   What godly words would he have spoken at this time in my life? My twenties stampeded by like a band of Mustangs over the plains of Montana.   I remember turning twenty-one two seconds ago and taking a picture with my dad.   Snap!   Click!   Memory day branded.   That was the last year I would see my dad in pictures. ...

“Memory Day” Memories   August 11 th , 2008 will always be etched in my mind.   Why? Do you ask?   That was the day the leading man in my life went home, my dad, Bob J. O’Banion.   He was my encourager, support system, teacher, boulder, and most importantly, a godly leader.   When you needed a hand, both of his calloused hands were there to hug, shake, and give you a pat on the back.   When you needed Christian advice, his wisdom traveled from his can line to yours.   With the can pressed against your ear, you’d hear, “God is the way, the truth, and the light.”   He was a true definition of a man, a sovereign man.   Integrity made him a humble guide through the Blueridge Mountains, the dry desert, and beyond.   Love lined his face with deep canyon wrinkles.   He sought and dug ditches to provide.   The rooftop was his “day home”.   Sun-tanned skin branded him a “sweat by the brow” toiler.   Family sto...