Happy Birthday, Daddy.
December 15th. My Daddy’s birthday. Of course, I’m thinking of him today.
While both of my parents had a tremendous impact on my life, they did so in quite different ways. Momma played a huge role in my love of books and the arts. And it was Daddy, no doubt, who instilled in me a love for baseball and nature. I think it’s obvious that my desire to write and illustrate children’s books has a direct correlation to my mother—a librarian. However, only recently have I realized that many (maybe most) of the settings, characters, and themes of my books, poems, and flash fiction stories are products of my father’s influence.
What a blessing from God to have been raised in a home where I was exposed to a variety of hobbies and interests. My life is richer because of this.
“Daddy and His Little Shadow”
Photo credit: Gwen T. Carlton (c. 1964)
On this day of reflection, my recurring thoughts are ones of gratitude for the many positive ways that my father shaped (and continues to shape) my life. And so, I say,
Thank you, Daddy, for a thousand backyard baseball “games” and for teaching me how to:
catch a flyball,
play first base,
throw a knuckle ball,
switch hit,
field a nasty, one-hop ground ball,
and fall in love with baseball for a lifetime.
Thank you, Daddy, for letting me tag along on your strolls in the woods and for teaching me to appreciate:
the sighting of a pink lady’s slipper or a hearts a’busting,
the plaintive call of a whippoorwill,
the sweet smell of a mock orange bush in full bloom,
the slick, waxy surface of a holly leaf,
the strong, pungent taste of a freshly harvested black walnut,
and the beauty found in God’s world.
Thank you, Daddy, for giving me many diverse experiences and enough material to spawn a plethora of children’s books.
Happy Birthday, Daddy. And thanks for everything.
”Keith just beat out a hit - Moody Air Force Base, GA”'
(Inscription on back of photo)
Photo credit: Unknown photographer (c. 1950s)
Nancy Carlton: “Like father. Like daughter.”
Photo credit: Gwen T. Carlton (c. 1963)