Wish I could say Scuppernong grapes, my favorite food in all the world, but we share those with a bordering state which also shares part of our name. We did discover this unique variant of the muscadine…all the grapes come from the mother stem.

More argument for Livermush, a delectable variant of scrapple. Come to one of the Livermush festivals to sample it. BUT oh dear a very nice company in the adjoining state Elvis called home makes it too.

That leaves our one clear claim to fame, an addictive red beverage called Cheerwine. Not wine, just a plain cherry soda.

I would first recommend that you look up the phrase “bad picker.” The way I\’ve heard it explained by a therapist is that all people have different “attachment styles.” That would also be a good term to look up. It all seems to boil down to emotional and social dysfunctions that we develop during childhood. This is hard to undo for two main reasons:

1. Our bad pickers are ingrained from an early age. Poor boundaries are a major part of this.
2. People with emotional and social issues often don\’t want to seek therapy. This is for a variety of reasons. The more their friends tell them to change, etc., the more stubborn they may become.

Sometimes, when someone is finally a miserable, broken mess, and have nowhere to turn, they\’ll get therapy, start to uncover their issues, and develop better emotional intelligence so that they are drawn to better romantic partners and stop sabotaging healthy relationships.

My daughter always came running to me when I came home and wrapped her arms around me and squeezed for a few moments. She knew how to hug me and I absolutely loved it. At night, when I was putting her to sleep, I would lie next to her. She always wanted me to read a book to her, followed by some snuggling, and then I would usually try to leave as I usually had something else to do. She would give me the cutest little kisses. They were little pecks, but I could tell she was really trying to express her love with her kiss. It was just precious. One of my tricks to exit each night was to get the stuffed horse, that I always jokingly called “Donkey”, to lie down next to her. It was a big horse and she would always smile and just say “Daaaaad, it’s a horse!” I would wrap the horse’s legs around her and the last leg I would clamp down on her tightly. She loved that. Then, she always wanted me to be nearby in the office while she went to sleep.

Sadly, my six-year-old daughter was killed in a tragic accident. I had this amazing dream that is definitely the most interesting one I can remember…

We were getting out of the van and my daughter had just closed the automatic door. I don’t know why but I thought she was opening it and I kind of sternly said, “Stop!” I realized that there was nothing wrong and we both looked at each other. I put my arms out and she understood I was sorry. In that instant, she forgave me for whatever thought I had. She walked over to me as I knelt down and she gave me the hug that she always did. Somehow I lost my balance and fell over backwards. We were hugging and she just fell on top of me. She began to give me her little kisses on my neck and said “Daddy, I love you” over and over between kisses. It was the best dream I ever had. When I woke up, I just cried and cried, not from sadness so much, but because I had been given a gift that was so precious to me. It reminded me of my daughter\’s wonderful gift of forgiveness and love. That hug will be with me forever.