by Ricky Doc Sauceda
Psalm 23:1-3
A psalm of David.
The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing.
He makes me lie down in green pastures,
he leads me beside quiet waters,
he refreshes my soul.
He guides me along the right paths
for his name’s sake.
Back home in Cut-n-Shoot, Texas, my Momma would often drive my three sisters into Houston to be with her two sisters, two brothers and Grandma Janie. They would assemble at Aunt Carmen's home in Humble. They would all have coffee, talk and then part ways. The sisters would all go shopping and the men did their things. I was sometimes with her but otherwise would stay home.
Daddy would relax on Saturdays. He knew how to enjoy himself. He would put on his cut-off jeans, walk around barefoot and shirtless. He'd pour a beer or a Southern Comfort and cola over ice and sit by the stereo console and listen to his favorite albums. He had a good collection: Johnny Cash, Dolly Parton, Hank Williams, Ray Price, Charlie Rich, Eddy Arnold and Marty Robbins are the ones that immediately come to my mind.
He also bought an 8 track tape recorder from Radio Shack and some blank tapes. He would play his harmonica and record songs. He loved doing that. He would listen to them afterward.
Other times he would ask me to join him in watching a movie. Back then, our CBS affiliate in Houston had afternoon movies: Sci-Fi, Western and various other formats. We enjoyed movies like KELLY'S HEROES, THE GOOD THE BAD AND THE UGLY and FAHRENHEIT 451.
Daddy had seen FARENHEIT 451 before we watched it together. A certain part of the movie came up and he said,"One brother is volume one and the other is volume two." He was ecstatic when describing this. His eyes were wide open and he had a huge smile on his face. That scene was personal to him. Only now I realize that.
He was cooking liver and onions one Saturday when I finally ventured out of my room, I found him in the kitchen. He was being cool and collected and enjoying himself. He was a good cook.
I asked,"Whatcha cookin'?" He told me it was liver and onions. I grimaced and he looked at me with curiosity. "Don't you like liver and onions?"
I responded by sharing a story about a time that I spent the night at my Aunt Ruby's house in Houston - she later moved to Conroe. I was hungry and she had just made a sandwich for my cousin Victor. I asked if I could have something to eat.
She told me that everything was cleaned and put away. I begged her. So, she pulled out a piece of liver, burned it all around, served it and watched as I stared at my meal. I took a bite and it was just awful. I asked for ketchup. Now it tasted worse. I then told her that I could not eat it.
She laughed and threw it into the trash can and said,"I knew you wouldn't eat it." She was smirking at me the entire time. (She had asked me if I liked liver before cooking it. I didn't even know what it was. Momma never cooked it for us.)
Daddy shook his head and said,"Oh, Ruby. That sounds exactly like her, son. If it's cooked right, liver and onions is delicious. Here try some." I was amazed at how good his version was in comparison to my Aunt's.
These were relaxing times at home in those days. A father and son chilling out together and enjoying each others company. I would later do as my Daddy when at home - wear shorts, go barefoot and shirtless. Something my sons do now as well.
He was not perfect. He was a good man. At the end of his life he was successful in making it home. He is with Momma and Grandma Janie awaiting the arrival of his son, three daughters and grandchildren.
We're coming Daddy. In God's timing. Amen.