Most of you don't know much about my natural father. This is him dancing with me at my first wedding.
I met my father about ten years ago. In these last several years we have developed the type of relationship most daughters would pray to have with their fathers. I just wish I had more time to spend with him, and with the two younger brothers I found out I had when I met Daddy. I'll get into the story in another post I'm working on.
Right now I'm more worried about the present. Daddy is now living in Hammond, Louisiana, right on the edge of the "red zone" of Hurricane Katrina's projected path. President Bush has already declared a state of emergency on the area around New Orleans. Evacuations are now underway, including my father's area.
Now, for those of you who know me, you'll know exactly where I got it from when I tell you that my father is the most stubborn old fart you've probably ever met. I asked him where he's going to go. He answered matter-of-factly: "To my house." Lovely.
I love that dumb old bonehead, so for those of you of any faith praying for those in the New Orleans area, would you mind throwing in a few words for a stubborn old Irishman?