Bespoke

family stories

  • Butch, Sundance, and Jimmy

    Yesterday, sitting in my recliner on a Sunday afternoon, half-awake, my cell phone rang. It was Jimmy. I knew he had just been released from OU Medical Center in Oklahoma City. I jumped from my chair and ran outside because… Continue reading

  • Discovering the Holy Among the Profane in Fifteen Minutes

    I grew up in a home that severely limited my creative outlet of language…I wasn’t allowed to curse, nor was I given the freedom to vent with words that hinted of the real four-letter curse words, the baby curse words… Continue reading

  • 100 Years of Furious Indifference

    My maternal grandmother died three years ago, January 20, 2011, at the age of ninety-nine. She would have celebrated her 100th birthday May 1st, 2011 so I’m rounding to 100. I miss her…miss seeing her, hearing her laugh, gathering counsel… Continue reading

  • Thanksgiving Man

    Yesterday I experienced two moving moments. One was simple, a man walking along a sidewalk in my hometown. He was arguing passionately with someone, but he was totally alone, his actions said that he was invisible, and I felt sad.… Continue reading

  • Dancing Around the Costume Chest

    Back in the days when my kids believed in Santa and my words had the force and weight to either bless them or crush them, our daughters and son indulged in make-believe, dressing up to become the character of their… Continue reading

  • Flashes of Wonder

    If I wrote like my wife talks, I’d write narrative like a kid writing home from summer camp, “I had oatmeal for breakfast and we played softball and I outran all the boys in a foot race and we had… Continue reading

  • Skimming Along Old Man River

    This weekend the Sooner football team defeated Notre Dame and I skimmed along the mud flat shoals of the Red River in an air boat with four college buddies. We powered upstream through the shallow grassy sandbars pausing to shut… Continue reading

  • Megan’s Hands

    My daughter Jenna and I have a special hand shake thing which is difficult to describe but something that we’ve done since she was very young. It’s our secret and I can’t entirely divulge how it works, just that’s it’s… Continue reading

  • The Sole of My Father

    Before soft comfortable velcro secured shoes I remember my Dad’s brown wingtip leather-sole shoes tied with dark cords and buffed brilliantly with Kiwi shoe polish. I thought of my Dad and how i once watched him polish those shoes, as… Continue reading

  • The Funniest People I Know: Ralph Rowand

    I left home in the stifling heat of August 1977 at the same time Elvis left the building for good. My destination was Searcy, Arkansas and Harding University. I had no inkling that the friends I made in college would… Continue reading