My daddy inherited a nickname when he was playing football at Texas Tech University. His coach called him “Moon” because his face was more round than his helmet. So he went from George to Moon in the matter of one day of practice. But here’s what I remember about him.
When my sister and I were in early elementary school he would come home, sit us on top of the kitchen cabinet and watch us scream for joy by him bringing home sacks of popsicles, fudgesicles, sherbet push-ups, and every ice cream treat he could lay his hands on. My sister Vicki and I dreamed all night long about ALL those goodies in the freezer!
It’s funny how we pass down family joys and traditions. To this day my freezer is crammed full of every “ice cream on a stick” treat that you can imagine. No wonder my grandkids love to come to Grammy’s house. The freezer is the first place they run. I’m a big hit around here! (Thank you, Daddy Moon!)
But that’s not all I remember about my daddy. He was extremely generous, outgoing, and deeply patriotic having served in the US Navy. He loved the song the “Battle Hymn of the Republic”: Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord. I could always count on him tearing up when he heard that tune.
On July 4, 1995, God took him home. What a perfect day to welcome “Moon” Martin into glory! With the fireworks dancing in all their twilight outside his bedside window and me holding him in my arms accompanied by the “Battle Hymn of the Republic” playing in his room, he was making his way into the presence of Christ Himself.
So July 4th isn’t just any celebration for me. It’s a heavenly fireworks remembrance of a man who loved God, his family and country. I love you, Daddy. I’ll be lighting a sparkler for you on the 4th!