This is December 17,2010 and the sun is shining here in NW Ohio. Today is a special day for me. It has been 40 years ago today that I was in Freeman Hospital in Joplin, Missouri. It has been 40 years ago today that a brand new baby girl was born. (Where do the years go?)
She was tiny and beautiful. Only 6 lbs. and 7 oz. She had wide blue eyes, like her father and big brother and a wrinkled little nose.
Unlike 2 and 1/2 years earlier, when her brother finally made his entrance into our lives by emergency cesearen section, we were able, with this one, to CHOOSE the day she was to be born.
Our Doctor told us we could decide on the date, as long as it was within 10 days of her due date, which was December 26. (Yes, she could have been a Christmas baby.) Doctor didn't want to take a chance on my going into labor because he had some medical concerns with the previous pregnancy.
Her Daddy and I calculated this and decided, in order to stay a full week at the hospital after her birth, which was required at the time, and still NOT MISS OUT on the fun of our big family Christmas celebrations, that we would choose December 17th. It would work out perfectly for us. She was our BEST Christmas gift that year and this way we would get to show her off to everyone!
My parents came and took our 2 and 1/2 year old boy home with them and I was admitted to the hospital the evening before her birth.
Since our first baby had been born by emergency Cesarean, the Doctor gave me no other choice but to be put to sleep when she was delivered. It wasn't long before I woke with our little one being put into my arms.
I felt really good compared to when he was born after a difficult labor and then surgery and ongoing medical problems.
Also, with our little boy, all the babies stayed in the nursery, except for short feeding and visiting times. No one, except the baby's parents were allowed access to the babies, except through the nursery window.
Times were changing and with this one we got to keep her in the room with us most of the time. Grandparents could come and visit also.
Mom and Dad brought her brother to the hospital and we waved from the second story window. He looked so little and far away through that window,
I didn't realize until I saw him how much I already missed him, but because little children weren't allowed, meeting his new baby sister would have to wait for a few more days.
I had to stay an extra day before I could leave the hospital because I had a slight fever, but on Christmas Eve we were both released.
I have tried, but, can't quite remember if we even went home after we got our walking papers. I do know, we made the drive, which was about an hour, that same day to have Christmas Eve with his mom and family. His brother and his wife were there with their little one as well as his sister, husband and neice from Ohio. Grandma was excited about a new baby and having everyone there. Baby made grandchild number 4. (Sadly, my father-in-law had passed away a year after we married and never had the joy of knowing his grandchildren.) After spending the afternoon and evening there we went to spend the night with my parents and the next morning had Christmas Day with my side of the family. (Lot's of excitment wiht all 6 of my siblings and our families) This was the way we celebrated each year for a number of years, even after we packed up and moved our family to Ohio in the Spring of 1972 we stilled traveled back each December to have Christmas at the grandparents. (That changed after some pretty close mishaps when (I think, to the relief of our parents) we finally decided trips were better done when the weather was likely to be more favorable.)
Christmas evening we drove back to our own little house in Joplin with both little ones, and our Christmas goodies, tired but happy. At this point in my life it sounds a little crazy to me to have gone visiting a week after surgery with two little ones, but, that was how we did things then. We were young and being raised in a large family I could never have even imagined not going to Mom and Dad's to have Christmas with everyone!
Our baby was a tiny little thing and the Doctor was concerned that she wasn't gaining weight fast enough, so he had me wakeing her (well it was more like--trying to wake her!) every two hours for the first few weeks. Not an easy job, because SHE didn't really want to wake up and feed! It worried me some also, but, before long it seemed pretty obvious she would thrive so we settled into more or less the schedule she decided for herself.
From early on our little girl had a mind of her own and the majority of the time she pretty much got her way around most of us.
She was cute, little and a real charmer. She was shy around most people at first -- until she had them wrapped around her little finger -- after that they were fast friends forever --or at least until she found someone else to charm!
It was fun to have a sweet little girl around. I loved dressing her and combing her soft curls. We rocked and cuddled and sang songs. Her daddy thought the sun rose and set just for her and her brother loved her as well. You had to really watch carefully or he would come carrying her with her chubby little legs swinging freely. She never cried when he carried her, but learned quickly to hang on for dear life! (It really didn't happen to often, but he never dropped her, thank goodness!)
He was always on the go and getting into lots of things, but, she was more reserved and likely to hang back and cling to Momma or Daddy. She loved hugs and kisses and picking flowers.
Years later, about the time she was , not quite a teen, (much sooner than I ever dreamed and certainly before I was ready for it to happen) she started feeling the need for Independence. From that time on Mom and daughter have had to deal with personality issues that has made life sometimes pretty difficult for us.
Relationships are complicated and it isn't always easy to understand how or why things happen the way they do.
But, as things do, life goes on and we muddle through as best we can.
I want her to know that the phone call she made to me a couple of months ago was one of the BEST gifts that I have EVER received.
Also, I want you, my precious daughter to know that no matter what, I am so glad that you are MY DAUGHTER and I am so PROUD of you and the daughter, wife and mother you are! HAPPY BIRTHDAY APRIL
Friday, December 17, 2010
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Memories of Grandma
My early years were spent not only with my parents and 6 brothers and sisters, but, with my Grandma Price.
The early 1940's was a time of challenge and change in the lives of many Americans, many were still affected by years of depression and now our country was about to become involved in another world war.
Our family was no different.
Mom and Dad married in the spring of 1938 and already had two little ones by July of 1940. My sister Betty and brother Richard.
Jobs were difficult to find and the family moved numerous times in those early years seeking a better life. In July of 1942 they went to Colorado where Dad'a sister was living.
In October of the same year Dad joined the Army. He thought he would be leaving immediately, but, as it turned out he wasn't called to active duty until several months later.
Meanwhile, Mom was pregnant for the forth time (she had lost a set of twins while my oldest brother was still a baby) It was getting close to time for their third baby to be born, so even though Dad could not leave Colorado, she packed what little they had and traveled, by train, with the children, back home to our Dads family. It was a long and exhausting trip to the small Southwest Missouri community where my Grandparents lived.
Mom told me once, just a couple of years before she died, what a difficult trip it had been and that she had been very upset with Dad, at that time, feeling his priorities were mixed up. She felt he should have stayed with them.
They went to stay with Dads father and step-mother and the baby was born only a few short days after their train trip. Mothers poor health kept them there until the new baby, (my second sister, Jeanie) was about 6 weeks old.
Moms parents, Grandma and Grandpa Price lived in Arkansas. Sadly, Moms father died shortly after she and the children came back from out west.
Those were all events, as with each decision made in our lives, that would ultimately affect our entire family.
When Mom was able, she moved with the three children and lived with my Grandma on the farm in Arkansas. They stayed there for the next several years.
In 1945 the war was finally about to end and Dad was expected to be returning home from his tour of duty overseas. My oldest sister needed to start school that fall, so Mom moved, again, with the children back to Missouri to wait for his homecoming.
In 1946 she had her forth child, another baby boy, (Jim) and later when my twin brother (Keith) and I (Karen) were born Grandma Price moved to Missouri and into our home, where she became a permanent member of our household.
Lord knows, I'm sure she was a welcome addition under the circumstances. Not only were there 6 children now to care for, but, 3 of us were babies and two years later another brother (Bob) was added. Making 4 boy's and 3 girls, for a grand total of 7 children!
My twin brother and I have a brother only 11 months older and to top that off, our oldest brother had severe heart problems and had to be in and out of Mercy Children's Hospital in Kansas City, which was several hours away from where we lived.
So, as you can see, at the time it having Grandma with us helped solve multiple problems. It gave her a home. (Now, I'm not sure if my own daughter had 7 children and ask me to live with her, that I wouldn't choose the old folks home!!) Also it gave our parents peace of mind. Knowing that when they were unable to be with us our Grandma would be.
Grandma was a special,wonderful lady. Always kind and loving. She was an attractive though quite stocky with white hair (she said it was yellow!) that she always braided and then wound into a bun on the back of her head with little bobbie pins. I don't ever remember seeing her wear pants of any kind. She wore colorful house dresses and usually an apron. She also wore long, tan cotton stockings and dark, serviceable shoes. At night she slept in long flannel nightgowns.
Once, when I was 6 and in the first grade, she made herself a new nightgown. It was long and made of soft yellow flannel. I was going to stay all night with a little friend (it was my first overnight visit) and Grandma made me a nightgown, just like hers! I was very excited about staying all night with my little friend and now I had a pretty new nightgown to wear! Grandma's are pretty important people!
When Grandma hung out the laundry she always wore a large prairie style bonnet to keep the sun out of her face. Sometimes I would help her and hand her clothespins. I can almost smell the fresh scent of clean clothing and sunshine as I think of her shaking out shirts and sheets and hooking them onto the line to let the wind whip them dry. (Actually, I can also remember running to try and retrieve almost dry clothing off the line when a spring rain would suddenly arrive and also, stiff frozen clothing brought inside in mid-winter to be hung up or laid out to thaw and finish drying!)
In our family there has always been some competition over who was most loved by our Grandma. My older sister, (baby number 3) Jeanie, claims she was the most special, because, when she was a baby and after Grandpa Price died, Grandma spent a lots of time caring for her, that, in turn, made her very special, because it helped Grandma as she was grieving. I am sure that is certainly true. Also she was the baby of the family for the next several yeas! It was probably quite a shock to that little girl suddenly having not one, but several little siblings to deal with!
Trouble comes when (jealous me), thinks she would like to have exclusive rights to Grandmas special memory.
Well, I am here to say that Grandma was with all of us younger children also, from the very time we were born, and though she was no longer grieving and we would not have gotten her to ourselves (by that time there were just too many of us, I know for a fact she loved everyone of us very much! Differently, I'm sure, but, just as much. I am not sure that I have any special proof of that, and it really doesn't need to be proven. Most everyone, I suppose, wants to be extra special to someone. Our memories are our own, each memory different for each person, each one exclusive to a person and their own relationships.
I have many special feelings and memories of my times with her.
I can't remember anything about my infancy, but, around the time I turned two we moved into a little sandstone slab house several miles out of town. While we lived there, I shared one side of the attic bedroom with my Grandma. I can remember her rocking me at bedtime and singing to me before I went to sleep. I had a little rubber doll, (a Betsy Wetsy) that I would take to bed with me, Grandma would always take it out when she came to bed, in the morning when I woke up I would find it on the rocker. She told me that it was too hard to sleep with and it would wake her up in the night if it was in our bed. But, it was always waiting for me when I woke up in the morning.
That little doll later became another issue between my sister and I. (Oh, we always had our issues!) I felt that baby doll was mine and only mine, but, originally Grandma had gotten the doll for Jeanie. Jeanie then gave it to me for Christmas when I was either 3 or 4. She was almost 5 years older and must have thought she was too big for it. I returned the doll when she had her first baby girl (as a gift for the baby). I was 10 years old at the time and must have thought I was too big for dolls! Well, at some point, she packed the little Betsy Wetsy doll up and put her away. As far as I know it hasn't been seen since. I ask her one time if she would get it out so I could see it and she told me it was too fragile to take out of it wrapping.
Isn't it strange that after all these years she still holds on to a little baby doll and I still miss it? All because we connect it to our own lost childhood and to the love of our very special Grandma!
Grandma loved the outdoors. She enjoyed working in the garden. After Grandpa passed away, she supported herself for awhile raising chickens but she became ill and her Doctor told her she would have to give them up because they were making her sick.
I remember Daddy making a swing for us and Grandma came out and sat on it then she stood in it, just (she told us) to make sure it was strong enough to hold us little kids without breaking.
I don't think she did a lot of the cooking, at least I can't remember if she did. Most of the time, I think, Mom took care of that job (Momma was a wonderful cook).
Sometimes, though she would make us something special. She made fried mush that we would eat for breakfast with sugar or syrup on it and she made us gum by melting paraffin wax and putting sugar in it. She told us carrots would make our eyes shine and when she made vegetable soup she always told us it was "B-Bob soup because of the little pasta letters in it.
She didn't like to waste anything and would drink the juice from the pickle jar or the liquid left from the vegetables, or sometimes the last bite off our plate.
Daddy would tease her because she would put saccarin in her coffee and lots of sugar in her oatmeal. I still have the old, creamy white, coffe cup she always used to eat her breakfast.
She taught us how to do dishes, (I still remember her telling us to wash the glasses first, then the silverware the the plates and then the pots and pans. This was a job she did regularly until the day before she died in her 94th year.
In her later years she continued to get the small town newspaper from Pea Ridge Arkansas where she had lived for many years and the first thing she would look at was the obituaries. She said she was checking to see who she knew that had died that week.
She always kept birthday and Christmas cards in a shoe box and would let me look at them one by one as she told me stories about the person that sent them to her.
When she was older she would have me braid her hair and put it up in the little bun she always wore.
She liked to read and she wrote many letters to her old friends and family members in Arkansas.
One of the things she enjoyed doing most was making patchwork quilts. She made quilts many times through the years. Many of them were pieced from our old shirts, dresses, or pants. Also she would sometimes order material scraps from the Sears Roebuck catalog. It was fun to see what would come in the bundles of material they sent. Many colors and designs, sometimes there was silk or lace pieces and if she could not use them she would let me play with them.
When she had several patchwork squares made she would sometimes let me lay them out in different arrangements to see what I thought would make the prettiest designs. As her seeing failed I would thread her needle for her. I became increasingly difficult to do her handwork because of her failing sight and the arthritis in her hands but she continued to make quilts pretty much until the end of her life.
When our first child was a baby she came and stayed with us for several days. I have a picture of her with the baby in his stroller and another of him sitting in the yard of our tiny little house on the quilt she made me when I was a little girl.
Several years after she passed away, Mom opened a box of hers and it contained seven completed quilt tops. One for each of her seven grandchildren. For Christmas that year we received a quilt with a poem Mom wrote telling about the quilt being from both, Grandma and Mom. Mother had put linings and backing on them all and had carefully done buttonhole stitching around each of the many small pieces of material. This repaired the places where our Grandmother's failing eyesight and un-cooperative hands had missed. It was a lovely and sentimental gift.
Our little girl was born just before Christmas 1970. Grandma said she was special because she was her 13th great-grandchild and we named her April. Grandma's birthday was April 13Th.
I think Grandma was pretty satified with her latter life but, she did, always, have one big fear. She was afraid there might come a time when she would be unable to care for herself (as we grow older, it is a dread I am sure many of us share) and she feared she would have to be put into an "Old Folks Home."
Thankfully that never happened to her for she lived with our parents and remained generally healthy, both physically and "Thank God" mentally until very shortly before she passed away in January of 1973.
We had just been to Missouri for the Christmas holidays and got to spend time with her that I hold very close to my heart.
I'm sure that everyone considers their Grandma to be the very best. I am happy if that is true for you.
It certainly is true for our family. I am so glad God blessed me (and my brothers and sisters) with our one VERY SPECIAL GRANDMA!
The early 1940's was a time of challenge and change in the lives of many Americans, many were still affected by years of depression and now our country was about to become involved in another world war.
Our family was no different.
Mom and Dad married in the spring of 1938 and already had two little ones by July of 1940. My sister Betty and brother Richard.
Jobs were difficult to find and the family moved numerous times in those early years seeking a better life. In July of 1942 they went to Colorado where Dad'a sister was living.
In October of the same year Dad joined the Army. He thought he would be leaving immediately, but, as it turned out he wasn't called to active duty until several months later.
Meanwhile, Mom was pregnant for the forth time (she had lost a set of twins while my oldest brother was still a baby) It was getting close to time for their third baby to be born, so even though Dad could not leave Colorado, she packed what little they had and traveled, by train, with the children, back home to our Dads family. It was a long and exhausting trip to the small Southwest Missouri community where my Grandparents lived.
Mom told me once, just a couple of years before she died, what a difficult trip it had been and that she had been very upset with Dad, at that time, feeling his priorities were mixed up. She felt he should have stayed with them.
They went to stay with Dads father and step-mother and the baby was born only a few short days after their train trip. Mothers poor health kept them there until the new baby, (my second sister, Jeanie) was about 6 weeks old.
Moms parents, Grandma and Grandpa Price lived in Arkansas. Sadly, Moms father died shortly after she and the children came back from out west.
Those were all events, as with each decision made in our lives, that would ultimately affect our entire family.
When Mom was able, she moved with the three children and lived with my Grandma on the farm in Arkansas. They stayed there for the next several years.
In 1945 the war was finally about to end and Dad was expected to be returning home from his tour of duty overseas. My oldest sister needed to start school that fall, so Mom moved, again, with the children back to Missouri to wait for his homecoming.
In 1946 she had her forth child, another baby boy, (Jim) and later when my twin brother (Keith) and I (Karen) were born Grandma Price moved to Missouri and into our home, where she became a permanent member of our household.
Lord knows, I'm sure she was a welcome addition under the circumstances. Not only were there 6 children now to care for, but, 3 of us were babies and two years later another brother (Bob) was added. Making 4 boy's and 3 girls, for a grand total of 7 children!
My twin brother and I have a brother only 11 months older and to top that off, our oldest brother had severe heart problems and had to be in and out of Mercy Children's Hospital in Kansas City, which was several hours away from where we lived.
So, as you can see, at the time it having Grandma with us helped solve multiple problems. It gave her a home. (Now, I'm not sure if my own daughter had 7 children and ask me to live with her, that I wouldn't choose the old folks home!!) Also it gave our parents peace of mind. Knowing that when they were unable to be with us our Grandma would be.
Grandma was a special,wonderful lady. Always kind and loving. She was an attractive though quite stocky with white hair (she said it was yellow!) that she always braided and then wound into a bun on the back of her head with little bobbie pins. I don't ever remember seeing her wear pants of any kind. She wore colorful house dresses and usually an apron. She also wore long, tan cotton stockings and dark, serviceable shoes. At night she slept in long flannel nightgowns.
Once, when I was 6 and in the first grade, she made herself a new nightgown. It was long and made of soft yellow flannel. I was going to stay all night with a little friend (it was my first overnight visit) and Grandma made me a nightgown, just like hers! I was very excited about staying all night with my little friend and now I had a pretty new nightgown to wear! Grandma's are pretty important people!
When Grandma hung out the laundry she always wore a large prairie style bonnet to keep the sun out of her face. Sometimes I would help her and hand her clothespins. I can almost smell the fresh scent of clean clothing and sunshine as I think of her shaking out shirts and sheets and hooking them onto the line to let the wind whip them dry. (Actually, I can also remember running to try and retrieve almost dry clothing off the line when a spring rain would suddenly arrive and also, stiff frozen clothing brought inside in mid-winter to be hung up or laid out to thaw and finish drying!)
In our family there has always been some competition over who was most loved by our Grandma. My older sister, (baby number 3) Jeanie, claims she was the most special, because, when she was a baby and after Grandpa Price died, Grandma spent a lots of time caring for her, that, in turn, made her very special, because it helped Grandma as she was grieving. I am sure that is certainly true. Also she was the baby of the family for the next several yeas! It was probably quite a shock to that little girl suddenly having not one, but several little siblings to deal with!
Trouble comes when (jealous me), thinks she would like to have exclusive rights to Grandmas special memory.
Well, I am here to say that Grandma was with all of us younger children also, from the very time we were born, and though she was no longer grieving and we would not have gotten her to ourselves (by that time there were just too many of us, I know for a fact she loved everyone of us very much! Differently, I'm sure, but, just as much. I am not sure that I have any special proof of that, and it really doesn't need to be proven. Most everyone, I suppose, wants to be extra special to someone. Our memories are our own, each memory different for each person, each one exclusive to a person and their own relationships.
I have many special feelings and memories of my times with her.
I can't remember anything about my infancy, but, around the time I turned two we moved into a little sandstone slab house several miles out of town. While we lived there, I shared one side of the attic bedroom with my Grandma. I can remember her rocking me at bedtime and singing to me before I went to sleep. I had a little rubber doll, (a Betsy Wetsy) that I would take to bed with me, Grandma would always take it out when she came to bed, in the morning when I woke up I would find it on the rocker. She told me that it was too hard to sleep with and it would wake her up in the night if it was in our bed. But, it was always waiting for me when I woke up in the morning.
That little doll later became another issue between my sister and I. (Oh, we always had our issues!) I felt that baby doll was mine and only mine, but, originally Grandma had gotten the doll for Jeanie. Jeanie then gave it to me for Christmas when I was either 3 or 4. She was almost 5 years older and must have thought she was too big for it. I returned the doll when she had her first baby girl (as a gift for the baby). I was 10 years old at the time and must have thought I was too big for dolls! Well, at some point, she packed the little Betsy Wetsy doll up and put her away. As far as I know it hasn't been seen since. I ask her one time if she would get it out so I could see it and she told me it was too fragile to take out of it wrapping.
Isn't it strange that after all these years she still holds on to a little baby doll and I still miss it? All because we connect it to our own lost childhood and to the love of our very special Grandma!
Grandma loved the outdoors. She enjoyed working in the garden. After Grandpa passed away, she supported herself for awhile raising chickens but she became ill and her Doctor told her she would have to give them up because they were making her sick.
I remember Daddy making a swing for us and Grandma came out and sat on it then she stood in it, just (she told us) to make sure it was strong enough to hold us little kids without breaking.
I don't think she did a lot of the cooking, at least I can't remember if she did. Most of the time, I think, Mom took care of that job (Momma was a wonderful cook).
Sometimes, though she would make us something special. She made fried mush that we would eat for breakfast with sugar or syrup on it and she made us gum by melting paraffin wax and putting sugar in it. She told us carrots would make our eyes shine and when she made vegetable soup she always told us it was "B-Bob soup because of the little pasta letters in it.
She didn't like to waste anything and would drink the juice from the pickle jar or the liquid left from the vegetables, or sometimes the last bite off our plate.
Daddy would tease her because she would put saccarin in her coffee and lots of sugar in her oatmeal. I still have the old, creamy white, coffe cup she always used to eat her breakfast.
She taught us how to do dishes, (I still remember her telling us to wash the glasses first, then the silverware the the plates and then the pots and pans. This was a job she did regularly until the day before she died in her 94th year.
In her later years she continued to get the small town newspaper from Pea Ridge Arkansas where she had lived for many years and the first thing she would look at was the obituaries. She said she was checking to see who she knew that had died that week.
She always kept birthday and Christmas cards in a shoe box and would let me look at them one by one as she told me stories about the person that sent them to her.
When she was older she would have me braid her hair and put it up in the little bun she always wore.
She liked to read and she wrote many letters to her old friends and family members in Arkansas.
One of the things she enjoyed doing most was making patchwork quilts. She made quilts many times through the years. Many of them were pieced from our old shirts, dresses, or pants. Also she would sometimes order material scraps from the Sears Roebuck catalog. It was fun to see what would come in the bundles of material they sent. Many colors and designs, sometimes there was silk or lace pieces and if she could not use them she would let me play with them.
When she had several patchwork squares made she would sometimes let me lay them out in different arrangements to see what I thought would make the prettiest designs. As her seeing failed I would thread her needle for her. I became increasingly difficult to do her handwork because of her failing sight and the arthritis in her hands but she continued to make quilts pretty much until the end of her life.
When our first child was a baby she came and stayed with us for several days. I have a picture of her with the baby in his stroller and another of him sitting in the yard of our tiny little house on the quilt she made me when I was a little girl.
Several years after she passed away, Mom opened a box of hers and it contained seven completed quilt tops. One for each of her seven grandchildren. For Christmas that year we received a quilt with a poem Mom wrote telling about the quilt being from both, Grandma and Mom. Mother had put linings and backing on them all and had carefully done buttonhole stitching around each of the many small pieces of material. This repaired the places where our Grandmother's failing eyesight and un-cooperative hands had missed. It was a lovely and sentimental gift.
Our little girl was born just before Christmas 1970. Grandma said she was special because she was her 13th great-grandchild and we named her April. Grandma's birthday was April 13Th.
I think Grandma was pretty satified with her latter life but, she did, always, have one big fear. She was afraid there might come a time when she would be unable to care for herself (as we grow older, it is a dread I am sure many of us share) and she feared she would have to be put into an "Old Folks Home."
Thankfully that never happened to her for she lived with our parents and remained generally healthy, both physically and "Thank God" mentally until very shortly before she passed away in January of 1973.
We had just been to Missouri for the Christmas holidays and got to spend time with her that I hold very close to my heart.
I'm sure that everyone considers their Grandma to be the very best. I am happy if that is true for you.
It certainly is true for our family. I am so glad God blessed me (and my brothers and sisters) with our one VERY SPECIAL GRANDMA!
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Vacation is not for WIMPS! (part 2)
We have all survived a week of (did I say vacation?) and the time is winding down and we'll soon be returning home with not only our children in tow, but also 4 of our lovely nieces, ages, 14, 14, 15, and 16. Yes, I guess I am a little loony, but, it actually sounded like fun at the time.
O.K., on with the story.
Before we were to start home we were spending the last couple of days with my husbands family. His sister was also in from Ohio, with her husband and their two kids, so our children were still having a great time playing at Grandma's, with the one cousin on Daddy's side of the family that lived in Missouri and the other 2 from Ohio.
It was mid-afternoon the day before we we planning to leave, when two little boys came running, at top speed, through their Grandmother's kitchen. The younger cousin, for some unknown reason, dropped down to the floor and our little boy then took a flying leap "OVER his cousins back and RIGHT OFF of Grandma's back porch!
You guessed it. The poor little guy now had a BROKEN ARM. So, OFF to the hospital we went, where we learned that the arm was already too swollen to set right. He had to be admitted and stay overnight when they would decide, the next day, if it needed surgery.
No surgery,luckily, was needed, but, it would be one extra day before we could leave.
On and on it goes!
We got that crisis taken care of and the following day we packed up and started HOME (by that time, the word HOME was sounding better and better!) We had everything including all 6 young people in the station wagon.
Only 650 miles to go!
Well-----
I really would like to tell you that we were at the end of our PERFECT vacation. (About time, don't you think?)
No not yet!
We traveled until we were just about half way into the drive and it was time for the NEXT adventure. Our ENTIRE MUFFLER fell off the car!
And of course, (as we should have known by now!)NO ONE was able to fix it that day!
Then----
After we found a campground we went to the grocery store (we had not planned another night in the camper) and---the store WOULD NOT accept our travelers checks! We scrounged enough money from change and the girls allowed us to use some of their spending money to buy a few groceries. We went back to camp, ate, and waited for the next day to arrive.
Because the camper was so small, the girls slept in it and we slept with the little ones (and the broken arm) in the car. NOT my best night!(Or anyone else's.)
Well friends. you are not going to believe this, but, we REALLY did get home without further incident!
UNFORTUNATELY, when we arrived at our home-sweet-home, our REFRIGERATOR had QUIT!!!!!
"Va-a-a cation, Oh it WAS so much fun!"
"But, though we had a good time."
"WE ARE POOPED WHEN IT IS DONE"
Honestly, I can tell you. "VACATIONS ARE NOT FOR WIMPS"
O.K., on with the story.
Before we were to start home we were spending the last couple of days with my husbands family. His sister was also in from Ohio, with her husband and their two kids, so our children were still having a great time playing at Grandma's, with the one cousin on Daddy's side of the family that lived in Missouri and the other 2 from Ohio.
It was mid-afternoon the day before we we planning to leave, when two little boys came running, at top speed, through their Grandmother's kitchen. The younger cousin, for some unknown reason, dropped down to the floor and our little boy then took a flying leap "OVER his cousins back and RIGHT OFF of Grandma's back porch!
You guessed it. The poor little guy now had a BROKEN ARM. So, OFF to the hospital we went, where we learned that the arm was already too swollen to set right. He had to be admitted and stay overnight when they would decide, the next day, if it needed surgery.
No surgery,luckily, was needed, but, it would be one extra day before we could leave.
On and on it goes!
We got that crisis taken care of and the following day we packed up and started HOME (by that time, the word HOME was sounding better and better!) We had everything including all 6 young people in the station wagon.
Only 650 miles to go!
Well-----
I really would like to tell you that we were at the end of our PERFECT vacation. (About time, don't you think?)
No not yet!
We traveled until we were just about half way into the drive and it was time for the NEXT adventure. Our ENTIRE MUFFLER fell off the car!
And of course, (as we should have known by now!)NO ONE was able to fix it that day!
Then----
After we found a campground we went to the grocery store (we had not planned another night in the camper) and---the store WOULD NOT accept our travelers checks! We scrounged enough money from change and the girls allowed us to use some of their spending money to buy a few groceries. We went back to camp, ate, and waited for the next day to arrive.
Because the camper was so small, the girls slept in it and we slept with the little ones (and the broken arm) in the car. NOT my best night!(Or anyone else's.)
Well friends. you are not going to believe this, but, we REALLY did get home without further incident!
UNFORTUNATELY, when we arrived at our home-sweet-home, our REFRIGERATOR had QUIT!!!!!
"Va-a-a cation, Oh it WAS so much fun!"
"But, though we had a good time."
"WE ARE POOPED WHEN IT IS DONE"
Honestly, I can tell you. "VACATIONS ARE NOT FOR WIMPS"
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Vacations are not for WIMPS! (part 1)
It was mid-July 1976. Once again, we were preparing to make our annual trip down to the southwestern part of Missouri.
We would be traveling with our two children, Our son,then 8 and our little girl, 6 years old. We were all happy and looking forward to vacation. Not only were we planning on visiting lots of people, but, we also had several side trips planned. Six Flags, the St. Louis Zoo, camping. All the things, we thought, would make for a "PERFECT" family vacation!
My husband and I were both born and raised in Missouri, but, in the spring of '72 we relocated to the northern part of Ohio when he got the opportunity to start a job working for General Motors Corp..
In the early 70's G.M. was still a great job to have. It represented security and had insurance that was far better than what we had at the foundry where he was then working. (I remember thinking what a good job it would be, because, (of course) people would always need cars to drive!) The other main reason was the lure of money. It would be a much better paying job than what he was making in Missouri.
His sister and her family were already located in Ohio, so we would not be completely without family connections. Still, it was difficult to pack up everything we owned (which wasn't alot) and leave the security of having the extended family surrounding us.
Our little boy was only 3 and his sister a year so we decided we would always make trips back home a priority. My parents and his Mom were all there, as well as his brother and family. Also, all 6 of my siblings and their own families were there. (To this day, our family are the only ones on my side to have moved permanently out of the area where we were raised.)We wanted our kids to have the special feeling. Always knowing where and they came from and who their people were. I needed to make sure they knew they were loved and cherished by their grandparents and also by all those Aunts, Uncles and cousin's.
Everything started out pretty smoothly, or, that is to say, as smoothly as anything we ever started.
The kids were so excited about going to see everyone that they were literally climbing the walls.
Daddy was all ready to go (at least 2 hours before the rest of us) and waiting (patiently, of course) in the front seat of the car! (I joke you not, the horn sounded a time or two before I finally sent a child out to remind him that there were three more of us going and that we were NOT yet ready!)
He never did (and likely, he never will) understand how come it always took me so much longer to get myself ready than it did him. How on earth could that be???
All I had to do was get two children out of bed, dressed, make the beds, get some kind of breakfast into each one of them and the dishes washed. Put out the trash pick up toys double check the locks on windows, doors etc. Make sure teeth were brushed, hair combed, and shoes on. Oh, and fix peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and snacks for a little later in the morning!
Dad also wanted to know why we hadn't found all of their favorite toy's the night before. (We had but someone needed something to sleep with! You just can't pack a favorite teddy or dolly away if you have to have it to sleep with.
"Why" did they need to go to the bathroom "NOW"? They had both been sent to the bathroom 20 minutes before and, Oh,Yes, I needed to go also. Of course, not my man, HE had taken care of HIS business two hours before at the coffee shop!
Now I must give him credit though. He has always helped as much as he could. Over the years he has probably carried at least a ton of luggage to the family car. Sometimes, unfortunately, the suitcases were only partially packed (there was always the last minutes items that happened to still be drying from the last load of clothing I had washed at midnight the night before. Or as happened a time or two the suitcases were not properly fastened, spilling the entire contents onto the floor in front of the couch. Or even worse, not immediately spilling, but leaving them strung across the floor as he attempted to stop the free flow of whatever articles had once been neatly folded! Fortunately, after a few choice words (that I choose not to repeat) things would once again be under control and eventually (Thank the good Lord) we would be ready to head out.
Once on the road it would usually take an hour or so for everyone to settle in. But, finally, everyone relaxed and quited down with new colors and coloring books, magazines and a tape in the cassette player. We were now ready for our adventure.
How little we know. Not one of us expected it to be quite the adventure it turned out to be.
As we spent the first hours we made up silly songs.
"Oh, we're going to Missouri, with the camper on the car."
"And, we're gonna stop at Six Flags, but, it does seem so far."
Yes, I forgot to mention this was a trip with our little 16 foot Empire camper pulled behind our baby blue station wagon. On the back of the camper we had a rack with the kids bicycles securely (we thought) fastened on.
After a couple of hours we stopped and ate our sandwiches. Then the kids played happily for awhile as we sat and relaxed at the roadside rest where we had stopped.
That night we did stop outside of St. Louis and slept at a motel. We were up early the next day and spent several hours at "Six Flags over Mid-America".
"We'll ride the rides all day and night, It's fun to get a thrill"
"But, it might make us dizzy, when we ride the Ferris wheel!"
It was a beautiful sunny day and for some reason that day was not overly crowded. Most of the time there was not even a long wait for the rides and the children even got to ride a few more than one time. I still have pictures somewhere, that the kids drew as we continued the trip the following day. Both drew pictures of the big roller-coaster named the "Screaming Eagle". It was a major roller-coaster in 1976, even though, by todays standards, I'm not sure how it stands up. We were all very impressed at the time. It was a great day and a wonderful way to start a vacation!
The fun had just begun!
It wasn't long after we left the St. Louis area, traveling on Interstate 44, that we heard something strange and immediately realized there was a problem. Looking behind us (there were extended mirror's on each side of the car) we were horrified to see a Sim-truck swerving and almost losing control! That truck driver must have had his guardian angel riding with him that day, because, with skilled action, he managed to get his truck straightened out just in time and avoided a full blown accident. The semi continued on, but, now our kids almost new bicycles were lying at least a quarter of a mile back, somewhere along the roadside or worse, possibly still on the road, causing a hazard to some other unsuspecting driver!
As we slowly backed up along the berm another car pulled up behind us. He had been going the opposite direction and saw what had happened. He had crossed the highway and picked up the bicycles. We loaded them into the camper, thanked the stranger for his kindness, and once again headed south.
Va-a-cation, oh it is so much fun,
We'll swim and play and picnic in the good hot summer sun!
We stopped at Springfield to see my twin brother (who conveniently worked in a bicycle shop) and left the bicycles with him. Miraculously, neither bike had major damage!
After that we headed another hour on down South to see the grandparent's.
"And when we get to Grandma's, We'll see the other's there.
"Our cousin's, aunt's and uncle's, seem to be just everywhere!"
We had finally arrived. It was great fun. For the next couple of days it all went smoothly as we visited one family after another and then back to Mom and Dad's to sleep.
Then came the weekend and the "Family Campout."
Once again, it started out as a beautiful day. We were going to spend the next few days on the rocky riverbank. Fishing, swimming, eating, hiking, singing and laughing. Most of the brother's and sister's were there as were my folks.
Later in the day the men went off fishing and the rest of us took the younger kids down to swim in the shallow creek. Soon we became aware of dark storm clouds gathering and within minutes sharp flashes of lightening were crashing all around us. Our first thought was to get the wet children out of the lightening,so we headed for the camper.
The wind picked up and started blowing everything,every which way, just about the same time the rest of the group arrived back at camp.
Within a couple of minutes, two of our teen girls became trapped in a tent that blew down. Back out into the storm went Grandpa and my husband, headed out to the save the screaming teenagers. After a struggle with the tent they were told to get out and in the camper. "But Grandpa, one of them cried, "We aren't dressed!"
"Just grab a towel and GET INTO THE CAMPER!" came Grandpa's voice over the howling wind. After successfully rescuing the half naked girls, the men had no other choice than to lay down under the crippled tent until the worst of the storm calmed and the strong wind subsided.
It was a frightening experience, but, we were blessed and Alla's well that ends well!
I guess it was a good thing we hadn't gotten around to unhooking the camper. We believe the weight of our car (and the combined weight of everyone inside) helped to keep us from rolling over and ending up it the river!
For a few minutes there, that little 16 foot camper was sure "Rockin' and Rollin'" with 17 people and a hound dog inside!
We would be traveling with our two children, Our son,then 8 and our little girl, 6 years old. We were all happy and looking forward to vacation. Not only were we planning on visiting lots of people, but, we also had several side trips planned. Six Flags, the St. Louis Zoo, camping. All the things, we thought, would make for a "PERFECT" family vacation!
My husband and I were both born and raised in Missouri, but, in the spring of '72 we relocated to the northern part of Ohio when he got the opportunity to start a job working for General Motors Corp..
In the early 70's G.M. was still a great job to have. It represented security and had insurance that was far better than what we had at the foundry where he was then working. (I remember thinking what a good job it would be, because, (of course) people would always need cars to drive!) The other main reason was the lure of money. It would be a much better paying job than what he was making in Missouri.
His sister and her family were already located in Ohio, so we would not be completely without family connections. Still, it was difficult to pack up everything we owned (which wasn't alot) and leave the security of having the extended family surrounding us.
Our little boy was only 3 and his sister a year so we decided we would always make trips back home a priority. My parents and his Mom were all there, as well as his brother and family. Also, all 6 of my siblings and their own families were there. (To this day, our family are the only ones on my side to have moved permanently out of the area where we were raised.)We wanted our kids to have the special feeling. Always knowing where and they came from and who their people were. I needed to make sure they knew they were loved and cherished by their grandparents and also by all those Aunts, Uncles and cousin's.
Everything started out pretty smoothly, or, that is to say, as smoothly as anything we ever started.
The kids were so excited about going to see everyone that they were literally climbing the walls.
Daddy was all ready to go (at least 2 hours before the rest of us) and waiting (patiently, of course) in the front seat of the car! (I joke you not, the horn sounded a time or two before I finally sent a child out to remind him that there were three more of us going and that we were NOT yet ready!)
He never did (and likely, he never will) understand how come it always took me so much longer to get myself ready than it did him. How on earth could that be???
All I had to do was get two children out of bed, dressed, make the beds, get some kind of breakfast into each one of them and the dishes washed. Put out the trash pick up toys double check the locks on windows, doors etc. Make sure teeth were brushed, hair combed, and shoes on. Oh, and fix peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and snacks for a little later in the morning!
Dad also wanted to know why we hadn't found all of their favorite toy's the night before. (We had but someone needed something to sleep with! You just can't pack a favorite teddy or dolly away if you have to have it to sleep with.
"Why" did they need to go to the bathroom "NOW"? They had both been sent to the bathroom 20 minutes before and, Oh,Yes, I needed to go also. Of course, not my man, HE had taken care of HIS business two hours before at the coffee shop!
Now I must give him credit though. He has always helped as much as he could. Over the years he has probably carried at least a ton of luggage to the family car. Sometimes, unfortunately, the suitcases were only partially packed (there was always the last minutes items that happened to still be drying from the last load of clothing I had washed at midnight the night before. Or as happened a time or two the suitcases were not properly fastened, spilling the entire contents onto the floor in front of the couch. Or even worse, not immediately spilling, but leaving them strung across the floor as he attempted to stop the free flow of whatever articles had once been neatly folded! Fortunately, after a few choice words (that I choose not to repeat) things would once again be under control and eventually (Thank the good Lord) we would be ready to head out.
Once on the road it would usually take an hour or so for everyone to settle in. But, finally, everyone relaxed and quited down with new colors and coloring books, magazines and a tape in the cassette player. We were now ready for our adventure.
How little we know. Not one of us expected it to be quite the adventure it turned out to be.
As we spent the first hours we made up silly songs.
"Oh, we're going to Missouri, with the camper on the car."
"And, we're gonna stop at Six Flags, but, it does seem so far."
Yes, I forgot to mention this was a trip with our little 16 foot Empire camper pulled behind our baby blue station wagon. On the back of the camper we had a rack with the kids bicycles securely (we thought) fastened on.
After a couple of hours we stopped and ate our sandwiches. Then the kids played happily for awhile as we sat and relaxed at the roadside rest where we had stopped.
That night we did stop outside of St. Louis and slept at a motel. We were up early the next day and spent several hours at "Six Flags over Mid-America".
"We'll ride the rides all day and night, It's fun to get a thrill"
"But, it might make us dizzy, when we ride the Ferris wheel!"
It was a beautiful sunny day and for some reason that day was not overly crowded. Most of the time there was not even a long wait for the rides and the children even got to ride a few more than one time. I still have pictures somewhere, that the kids drew as we continued the trip the following day. Both drew pictures of the big roller-coaster named the "Screaming Eagle". It was a major roller-coaster in 1976, even though, by todays standards, I'm not sure how it stands up. We were all very impressed at the time. It was a great day and a wonderful way to start a vacation!
The fun had just begun!
It wasn't long after we left the St. Louis area, traveling on Interstate 44, that we heard something strange and immediately realized there was a problem. Looking behind us (there were extended mirror's on each side of the car) we were horrified to see a Sim-truck swerving and almost losing control! That truck driver must have had his guardian angel riding with him that day, because, with skilled action, he managed to get his truck straightened out just in time and avoided a full blown accident. The semi continued on, but, now our kids almost new bicycles were lying at least a quarter of a mile back, somewhere along the roadside or worse, possibly still on the road, causing a hazard to some other unsuspecting driver!
As we slowly backed up along the berm another car pulled up behind us. He had been going the opposite direction and saw what had happened. He had crossed the highway and picked up the bicycles. We loaded them into the camper, thanked the stranger for his kindness, and once again headed south.
Va-a-cation, oh it is so much fun,
We'll swim and play and picnic in the good hot summer sun!
We stopped at Springfield to see my twin brother (who conveniently worked in a bicycle shop) and left the bicycles with him. Miraculously, neither bike had major damage!
After that we headed another hour on down South to see the grandparent's.
"And when we get to Grandma's, We'll see the other's there.
"Our cousin's, aunt's and uncle's, seem to be just everywhere!"
We had finally arrived. It was great fun. For the next couple of days it all went smoothly as we visited one family after another and then back to Mom and Dad's to sleep.
Then came the weekend and the "Family Campout."
Once again, it started out as a beautiful day. We were going to spend the next few days on the rocky riverbank. Fishing, swimming, eating, hiking, singing and laughing. Most of the brother's and sister's were there as were my folks.
Later in the day the men went off fishing and the rest of us took the younger kids down to swim in the shallow creek. Soon we became aware of dark storm clouds gathering and within minutes sharp flashes of lightening were crashing all around us. Our first thought was to get the wet children out of the lightening,so we headed for the camper.
The wind picked up and started blowing everything,every which way, just about the same time the rest of the group arrived back at camp.
Within a couple of minutes, two of our teen girls became trapped in a tent that blew down. Back out into the storm went Grandpa and my husband, headed out to the save the screaming teenagers. After a struggle with the tent they were told to get out and in the camper. "But Grandpa, one of them cried, "We aren't dressed!"
"Just grab a towel and GET INTO THE CAMPER!" came Grandpa's voice over the howling wind. After successfully rescuing the half naked girls, the men had no other choice than to lay down under the crippled tent until the worst of the storm calmed and the strong wind subsided.
It was a frightening experience, but, we were blessed and Alla's well that ends well!
I guess it was a good thing we hadn't gotten around to unhooking the camper. We believe the weight of our car (and the combined weight of everyone inside) helped to keep us from rolling over and ending up it the river!
For a few minutes there, that little 16 foot camper was sure "Rockin' and Rollin'" with 17 people and a hound dog inside!
Friday, September 24, 2010
Karen - Spillin her Dreams: My Daddy was a Hero
Karen - Spillin her Dreams: My Daddy was a Hero: "Have you ever thought about the people in your life who influenced you and helped to make you who you eventually became? We cross paths wit..."
Monday, September 20, 2010
My Daddy was a Hero
Have you ever thought about the people in your life who influenced you and helped to make you who you eventually became? We cross paths with many people in a lifetime and each one and each experience adds to who we are, but some, of course, are much more important than others. For the majority of us our parents would certainly be at the top of our list. For me that is certainly true. I know there were many times I should have told them just how special they were and failed to do it. Sometimes I know I hurt them and now it hurts me to think of those times. They are the ones who loved me and put up with me through good times and bad times. They stood up for me and protected me. They were the people that nurtured me and gave me the morals that I live by.
I want to tell a little about some of these people. I hope that by writing this it will give you a small sense of knowing them and what kind of people they were. I write to honor them and remember them. I write even though they are no longer here. It is only a small and belated way to say thank-you, perhaps, but maybe it will help remind us all that we can and should show our appreciation to the people we love, now, before they are gone and there is no more time to tell them "thanks for being there".
I remember when I was very small I would stand on tiptoes behind the chair my daddy sat in and comb his hair. It was thick and very black and wavy and he would patiently let me comb. "My daddy was my hero".
When he would bring the cows in from the field he would let me ride on the back of "Babe" our gentle milk cow. He would swing me up on her back and lead her with the rope around her neck.
He put a swing in the tree out back and another one in the old outbuilding that Mom used to do laundry. I know it wasn't just for me, but, I can still remember him pushing me and feeling like I could reach the clouds. I can close my eyes and feel that sense of exhilaration as I flew high into the blue sky!
Another time, (I was probably in 1st grade) my daddy cooked fried chicken in the basement kitchen of the little country school we attended. It was for an evening meal and meeting with the families and teachers that went there. I can remember looking through the window (from the playground) and watching him put the chicken pieces into a brown paper bag with flour in it. Then he would shake it all up before he put it into the hot grease to fry it. I was so proud it was "my daddy" that was such a good cook!
When our big red barn burned down the wind was blowing hard toward our house and I was afraid. My daddy put his arm around me and said not to worry it would be OK. I was crying and he took the time to "save" my baby doll for me, {even though he and my mom were very busy putting our clothing and other things into the car, apparently there must have been a real concern that the house might catch on fire also}. We younger children were taken to stay with a family down the road. I will never forget watching the flames and smoke from that kind neighbors house and wondering if Daddy and Momma and my older brother and sisters were alright.
One time the bull in the small pasture was snorting and kicking his feet, acting like he was going to hurt us and what did "my daddy" do? He took the hammer he had been using and threw it, hitting that old bull smack on the head. Guess he taught him a lesson or two!
Of course, he wasn't just "my hero". I have a bunch of brothers and sisters and we would all like to think of him as exclusively "our hero". I guess it was and will always be "Yours, mine and ours". Really I don't mind sharing his memory one bit.
That is another thing about him. It never seemed to matter how many of us he had. He made every one of us feel we were special.
He was tender-hearted and kind to others.
Daddy was the youngest of 6 children.(Grandpa's 1st family). Sadly his mother contracted Tuberculosis and died when he was very young. After that my Grandpa remarried {I don't know exactly how long after her death) and he and his second wife (who already had two little girls) eventually had 8 more children. Unfortunately, Grandpa and my second Grandma Nellie (I always wondered if he choose to marry her partly because of her name) were overwhelmed with a family of 18 and it was, I'm sure, an extremely hard life. Somehow, at some point, I think Daddy kind of became the caretaker for many in his family. Many times one or another would call him when they had trouble. It made him so sad that he was not always able to help them. He would listen and tried to help, in some way, if he could.
Depression was an issue he dealt as it has been with many in our family. Sometimes, wheather we like it or not, out genetic makeup can get in the way and cause challenges we would rather not deal with.
When I was older I found out that he had been in "World War II". Even though Mom, already at that time, had two little ones to care for and was expecting their third child, when the war broke out, he felt an obligation to his family and country and joined the Army. (I'm not at all sure that Mom felt the same way about his duty to his family and country!). At any rate, he was first sent to Camp Perry in Ohio for "boot camp" and then shipped out to France. It was a very tough time for him. When I was a teenager he was in and out of the Veteran's hospital a couple of times and was always haunted by memories of the terrible things that happened during those years away from the ones he loved so much. His soft heart and family depression would have made it that much harder.
Years later as his health continued to decline he was given a medical retirement from the Post Office. He was 50 years old.(I believe that is right, anyway). My twin brother and I were 13, and we have a brother who was 14 and also a brother that was only 11 at the time. Also, some of our older siblings stayed with us part of the time while their families were starting out.
His life was not an easy one, but no matter the hard times got, we were always loved and protected!
There were also many good times and much laughter. He loved hunting and fishing. He took us camping even though we never had a tent. We would sleep under a tarp or in the seats of the big ol "Nash" that had seats that would lay back and make a bed. Sometimes we would just wrap ourselves in blankets and sleep on the ground. I remember him and my mom sitting on the misty river bank (I can remember the smell the mist and still hear the whip-o-will calling)and talking late into the night, as we little ones were going to sleep. He would whistle and sing songs of lovers and tragic train wrecks. I still love the smell of fresh coffee because I associate it with my Daddy.
It was a wonderful life for a little girl to have. Lots of brothers and sisters and parent's that loved us unconditionally.
Of course, as I grew up, I began to realize, that in reality, it wasn't perfect. But, still, we were always given what, to us as children, was most important, and that, of course, is always love.
Daddy was and always will be "My Hero!" It was all those tough times that, I think, showed his character the most. He was a person that no matter how hard it got he just "KEPT ON KEEPING ON"!
I will always keep those memories in my heart.
I so value those weeks, after his heart attack, when I was able to spend time with him. Though he was in the hospital he was still looking forward to whatever lie ahead.
I miss him and always will. I am forever grateful that He was "one of my very special people, "My Hero".
I want to tell a little about some of these people. I hope that by writing this it will give you a small sense of knowing them and what kind of people they were. I write to honor them and remember them. I write even though they are no longer here. It is only a small and belated way to say thank-you, perhaps, but maybe it will help remind us all that we can and should show our appreciation to the people we love, now, before they are gone and there is no more time to tell them "thanks for being there".
I remember when I was very small I would stand on tiptoes behind the chair my daddy sat in and comb his hair. It was thick and very black and wavy and he would patiently let me comb. "My daddy was my hero".
When he would bring the cows in from the field he would let me ride on the back of "Babe" our gentle milk cow. He would swing me up on her back and lead her with the rope around her neck.
He put a swing in the tree out back and another one in the old outbuilding that Mom used to do laundry. I know it wasn't just for me, but, I can still remember him pushing me and feeling like I could reach the clouds. I can close my eyes and feel that sense of exhilaration as I flew high into the blue sky!
Another time, (I was probably in 1st grade) my daddy cooked fried chicken in the basement kitchen of the little country school we attended. It was for an evening meal and meeting with the families and teachers that went there. I can remember looking through the window (from the playground) and watching him put the chicken pieces into a brown paper bag with flour in it. Then he would shake it all up before he put it into the hot grease to fry it. I was so proud it was "my daddy" that was such a good cook!
When our big red barn burned down the wind was blowing hard toward our house and I was afraid. My daddy put his arm around me and said not to worry it would be OK. I was crying and he took the time to "save" my baby doll for me, {even though he and my mom were very busy putting our clothing and other things into the car, apparently there must have been a real concern that the house might catch on fire also}. We younger children were taken to stay with a family down the road. I will never forget watching the flames and smoke from that kind neighbors house and wondering if Daddy and Momma and my older brother and sisters were alright.
One time the bull in the small pasture was snorting and kicking his feet, acting like he was going to hurt us and what did "my daddy" do? He took the hammer he had been using and threw it, hitting that old bull smack on the head. Guess he taught him a lesson or two!
Of course, he wasn't just "my hero". I have a bunch of brothers and sisters and we would all like to think of him as exclusively "our hero". I guess it was and will always be "Yours, mine and ours". Really I don't mind sharing his memory one bit.
That is another thing about him. It never seemed to matter how many of us he had. He made every one of us feel we were special.
He was tender-hearted and kind to others.
Daddy was the youngest of 6 children.(Grandpa's 1st family). Sadly his mother contracted Tuberculosis and died when he was very young. After that my Grandpa remarried {I don't know exactly how long after her death) and he and his second wife (who already had two little girls) eventually had 8 more children. Unfortunately, Grandpa and my second Grandma Nellie (I always wondered if he choose to marry her partly because of her name) were overwhelmed with a family of 18 and it was, I'm sure, an extremely hard life. Somehow, at some point, I think Daddy kind of became the caretaker for many in his family. Many times one or another would call him when they had trouble. It made him so sad that he was not always able to help them. He would listen and tried to help, in some way, if he could.
Depression was an issue he dealt as it has been with many in our family. Sometimes, wheather we like it or not, out genetic makeup can get in the way and cause challenges we would rather not deal with.
When I was older I found out that he had been in "World War II". Even though Mom, already at that time, had two little ones to care for and was expecting their third child, when the war broke out, he felt an obligation to his family and country and joined the Army. (I'm not at all sure that Mom felt the same way about his duty to his family and country!). At any rate, he was first sent to Camp Perry in Ohio for "boot camp" and then shipped out to France. It was a very tough time for him. When I was a teenager he was in and out of the Veteran's hospital a couple of times and was always haunted by memories of the terrible things that happened during those years away from the ones he loved so much. His soft heart and family depression would have made it that much harder.
Years later as his health continued to decline he was given a medical retirement from the Post Office. He was 50 years old.(I believe that is right, anyway). My twin brother and I were 13, and we have a brother who was 14 and also a brother that was only 11 at the time. Also, some of our older siblings stayed with us part of the time while their families were starting out.
His life was not an easy one, but no matter the hard times got, we were always loved and protected!
There were also many good times and much laughter. He loved hunting and fishing. He took us camping even though we never had a tent. We would sleep under a tarp or in the seats of the big ol "Nash" that had seats that would lay back and make a bed. Sometimes we would just wrap ourselves in blankets and sleep on the ground. I remember him and my mom sitting on the misty river bank (I can remember the smell the mist and still hear the whip-o-will calling)and talking late into the night, as we little ones were going to sleep. He would whistle and sing songs of lovers and tragic train wrecks. I still love the smell of fresh coffee because I associate it with my Daddy.
It was a wonderful life for a little girl to have. Lots of brothers and sisters and parent's that loved us unconditionally.
Of course, as I grew up, I began to realize, that in reality, it wasn't perfect. But, still, we were always given what, to us as children, was most important, and that, of course, is always love.
Daddy was and always will be "My Hero!" It was all those tough times that, I think, showed his character the most. He was a person that no matter how hard it got he just "KEPT ON KEEPING ON"!
I will always keep those memories in my heart.
I so value those weeks, after his heart attack, when I was able to spend time with him. Though he was in the hospital he was still looking forward to whatever lie ahead.
I miss him and always will. I am forever grateful that He was "one of my very special people, "My Hero".
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
September song
So here comes September. Clear and blue, sunshine and breezy. September 1, 2010. Pretty much a perfect start to a new season. The beginning of a new month, the end of summer and a new school year for children the world over.
I can say that because, as of May we are, officially an international family. Well not that we aren't all still members of the good old U.S.A., No one has changed thier citizenship, (I just say that now that half of our family lives in another country. Just a few months ago, our son-in-law, was sent to Germany with the U.S. Army and the rest of his family, including our daughter and 4 of our grandchildren followed him there! Sad but exciting at the same time.
They seem to be having lots of marvolous experiences checking out all of the new and wonderful things that part of the world has to offer!
The two oldest kids even went to Poland for a week already!
I'm sure now that school has started, some of the running around will be limited, perhaps to weekends or school holiday's. Now there will be homework, sports, and all the other things that keep folks so busy in the fall of the year.
I am glad to say that our son and his family are still here in Ohio. We see them quite frequently, but even their visits will most likely become less often because of much the same reasons.
It is so amazing watching how quickly the years go by.
Those children, that it seems only a moment ago were just babies, are now growing up.
We have one grandaughter that is a Senior this year, and a grandaughter that just got her drivers liscence. A 15 year old grandson that is planning to hike Europe with friends, (after he graduates and has enough money saved, so it will be awhile), and another grandson, that just became a real teenager.
Then the two little ones. They are not really little either,(sigh) but growing quickly trying hard to catch up to the others. They are so beautiful. Our 11 year old grandaughter is beginning to show signs of the woman she will become and the 9 year old boy is an amazing kid that is just full of love and laughter.
Sometimes, I just want to say; STOP! WAIT! I'm not ready for this! But, I really don't want to cheat them out of the many plans God has in store for them.
I know this world can be tough, but, we're here. God placed us here and we need to take advantage of every second. We need to love and we need to work and do our best in everything we do. If we mess up we need to get ourselves up, dust our pants off and start over.
So many of us, waste so much of our lives, basically doing nothing. Always wondering why nothing special ever happens to us.
I always liked the Nike comercial that say's "Just Do It"
If you have a dream, start planning to make it happen.
If you see someone you wish were your friend, say hello, you never know, they may need a friend.
If you are not happy with the way you life is going then change directions.
Sing a song, say a prayer, dance in the rain, read the funny paper.
"Just Do It" and have a great day.
I can say that because, as of May we are, officially an international family. Well not that we aren't all still members of the good old U.S.A., No one has changed thier citizenship, (I just say that now that half of our family lives in another country. Just a few months ago, our son-in-law, was sent to Germany with the U.S. Army and the rest of his family, including our daughter and 4 of our grandchildren followed him there! Sad but exciting at the same time.
They seem to be having lots of marvolous experiences checking out all of the new and wonderful things that part of the world has to offer!
The two oldest kids even went to Poland for a week already!
I'm sure now that school has started, some of the running around will be limited, perhaps to weekends or school holiday's. Now there will be homework, sports, and all the other things that keep folks so busy in the fall of the year.
I am glad to say that our son and his family are still here in Ohio. We see them quite frequently, but even their visits will most likely become less often because of much the same reasons.
It is so amazing watching how quickly the years go by.
Those children, that it seems only a moment ago were just babies, are now growing up.
We have one grandaughter that is a Senior this year, and a grandaughter that just got her drivers liscence. A 15 year old grandson that is planning to hike Europe with friends, (after he graduates and has enough money saved, so it will be awhile), and another grandson, that just became a real teenager.
Then the two little ones. They are not really little either,(sigh) but growing quickly trying hard to catch up to the others. They are so beautiful. Our 11 year old grandaughter is beginning to show signs of the woman she will become and the 9 year old boy is an amazing kid that is just full of love and laughter.
Sometimes, I just want to say; STOP! WAIT! I'm not ready for this! But, I really don't want to cheat them out of the many plans God has in store for them.
I know this world can be tough, but, we're here. God placed us here and we need to take advantage of every second. We need to love and we need to work and do our best in everything we do. If we mess up we need to get ourselves up, dust our pants off and start over.
So many of us, waste so much of our lives, basically doing nothing. Always wondering why nothing special ever happens to us.
I always liked the Nike comercial that say's "Just Do It"
If you have a dream, start planning to make it happen.
If you see someone you wish were your friend, say hello, you never know, they may need a friend.
If you are not happy with the way you life is going then change directions.
Sing a song, say a prayer, dance in the rain, read the funny paper.
"Just Do It" and have a great day.
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