The Hill of Life
My parents’ counselor keeps stressing the importance of exercise. Medical resources cite physical activity as a means to manage mild cognitive impairment and even prevent its development in the first place. Before Daddy’s job became so demanding, he arose every morning at 5 to walk. Despite the farmland that rolls out flatly like a map around my parents’ house, a road that nearly intersects with their driveway begins with a butt-busting hill (hence the name Erwin Hill Church Road). Five mornings a week, Daddy scaled and descended it for 30 minutes with his friend Jimmy Fox. He called it the Hill of Life.
Daddy faithfully hiked the Hill the Life no matter the weather. One morning I got up early for some reason and was banging around the kitchen when Daddy returned from his a.m. expedition.
“Your butt looks good, Daddy,” I said. (Because Daddy always compliments Mother’s beehonkus, I went through a phase of praising Daddy’s as well, to be fair.)
“I know, women are always starin’ at it,” Daddy answered.
“It’s so small!”
“It got even smaller after I had that cyst removed.”
“What cyst?!?!”
“Back when I was at North Georgia my cheek started leakin’, and I found out I had a cyst to the side of my tailbone. I stayed in the hospital for three days. That’s why half my ass is gone.”
Daddy mooned me and revealed a huge indention in his butt. The image is firmly branded in my brain. He apparently had no problem taking his track pants off.
“THE HILL OF LIFE!!!” he hollered another winter morning, pumped up from the early adrenaline rush.
“I can’t believe you walked this morning,” I shook my head. “It’s freezing out there.”
“I was so bundled up I barely could tell,” Daddy said. “I thought to myself, ‘I wonder if it’s cold out here.’ So I pulled my pants down and said to myself, ‘Yep, it’s cold out here.'”
Only now as I type this, I wonder if Jimmy Fox witnessed this. Either way, I can attest with confidence that Daddy has a good-looking beehonkus.
Hot Dog Beehonkus 
I love the Hill of Life! I remember being saddened when he stopped walking it. Maybe we can all do it together in the near future!
That’s a great idea! I’ll probably get really winded…
I love this one as well. When your parents were in Hartwell your Daddy mentioned that he would love to live in Hartwell. I jumped in and quickly added that I wish they would move here. I know it would be difficult to leave but look at all the neat friends they would have here!
I know that if Mother and Daddy moved to Hartwell, they would be surrounded by a wonderful and vibrant support network. : )
Yes, that was what I was thinking, but that may be taking your mother out of her comfort zone. Hartwell is a great place to live. There are lots of girlfriends to do things with. it’s just me thinking out loud.
I’m looking forward to your next entry.