Caryn
Bob’s Aunt Marion was a wonderful, hard working woman, who died in 1999 at the age of 72. She always seemed so young and full of life, but I guess that is what comes from staying so busy that you don’t have time to notice advancing age or illness. She raised 8 hard working children, 5 girls and 3 boys. Her youngest son is actually younger than her first grandson.
I was always a little in awe of Aunt Marion. She seemed to have it all together. Nothing phased her, and yet she never made you feel like she better than you, or that you were worthless. We didn’t get to see her as often as we would have liked, but always enjoyed the times we got to spend with her and her family. Her kids were very much like her, so they remind me a lot of their mom.
Aunt Marion’s husband, Uncle John passed away a few days ago on December 13th at the age of 85, and I have found myself thinking about him and the kids a lot. They told us that he worked hard all summer, and apparently didn’t tell them that he had cancer, until it had advanced to the point of much pain. It breaks my heart to think of him suffering in silence, working hard, and hoping that his children…who work with him in the family business, by the way…won’t notice. It’s so hard on the kids to think back, looking for a sign, and wondering if they should have noticed more. It brings quite a lot of guilty feelings and regret. In reality, I’m sure there was nothing they could have done, other than to provide moral support, but if that is all you can do, you feel better if you were given the chance to do it.
I have thought a lot about Aunt Marion through the years, and I’m sure I will do the same with Uncle John. I’m thankful that neither one is in pain anymore, but I wish that they were both still with us. It is always so hard to deal with loss. I know it is natural…the circle of life, but it seems to get harder with each and every loved one that leaves us. I don’t think I like it much…natural or not.
When my grandkids were little, I found a great toy box that would serve a dual purpose. It was a Winnie the Pooh couch/toy box. It decorated our living room for many years. I’m sure many people would have laughed about our unusual decor, but my grandchildren loved it. Their Winnie the Pooh couch was the first place they ran to when they came into my house. It was like a lost treasure chest. Every time they opened it, they knew the toys would be waiting for them.
The seat of the couch slid out, so the toys were kept hidden when the kids weren’t playing with them, but the minute one of the grandkids came in, the seat was quickly removed, and the 
toys instantly cluttered the entire room. How is it that kids can get toys out so fast? That has always been the way kids were. My girls could take a room from clean to disaster in about 10 seconds. It was like a tornado hit the room. I know all kids are about the same, and I guess they wouldn’t be kids if they weren’t that way.
I wanted to have a toy box at my house for my grandkids, like I’m sure most grandparents do, but I wanted it to be something a little more…stylish. A lot of grandparents just find a box and it becomes a makeshift toy box, but I wanted one where their dreams could be housed. A place where their imaginations could grow and blossom. And a place where they could sit to watch television, or read books. I 
wanted a little…toy land…just for them. The Winnie the Pooh couch served just that purpose.
That little couch/toy box has long since left my house to move on to other children who would use it more, since my grandchildren are now teenagers. We all know that the toys teenagers play with are definitely not the ones housed in a Winnie the Pooh couch, but the memories of that old couch come to mind every so often, and they always bring a smile to my face. Those little tiny people running into my house and straight to the toy box…the giggling that would soon follow…and the pure joy of the great blessing that grandchildren are.
For the past year, I have had the distinct pleasure of working side by side with my granddaughter at The Stengel Agency. Yesterday was Shai’s one year anniversary. She is our CSR, and her job is to answer phones, take payments, keep our filing up to date, and all the other odd jobs we give her. This has been a great opportunity for a high school student, and she has done a great job of it.
Not many people get to work with their kids or grandkids, and I am blessed to be able to work with both. There is a loyalty that goes along with working side by side with family and friends, and that is what you will find in our office. There is no need to micro-manage anyone, because we all just do our jobs. Shai comes in after school, and works until 5:00pm every weekday. When she first started working in the office, she was nervous about answering the phones, and dealing with customers, but as time has gone on, she is very comfortable greeting customers, and talking on the phone.
Kids go through many changes as they journey from childhood to adulthood, and I am proud to say that through those years Shai has excelled in several key areas of that journey. At 10 years of age, she cared for her great grandparents during the last 2 months of that summer, when they were both quite ill. I was very proud of how capable and responsible she was. We knew we didn’t have to worry about them…Shai was on the job. She also babysat my niece’s 3 boys, and they knew their children were in good hands…not to mention loved. And now, she is proving herself in the office. We know we can count on her to do her job to the very best of her ability.
Shai, I don’t know what your future plans will be, and while I love working with you, I will support you in whatever you do, but I will tell you this…you make a good CSR, and I believe that as time goes on you will get better and better at it. And thanks for the great…but fictional picture. I know you didn’t really drop those files, but it definitely adds flair to my story. Congratulations on a great first year!! Love you very much!!
My mom had relatives who lived in Cascade, Idaho, and I remember going up there for visits as a child. The area is beautiful, and their home were practically right up in the mountains. The trees were pine trees, and the air was fragrant and cool, even in the summertime. We had a wonderful time every time we visited. It was almost like camping out, even though we weren’t. These were my mom’s aunts and uncles, her mother’s family, and they were wonderful people.
There were enough people in our family that it was not possible for us to stay at the same house, so we split up, which was fun in itself. I got to feel like I was at summer camp…sort of. I always stayed at Uncle Austin and Aunt Abby’s house, and they had this cool little day bed at the top of the stairs that I got to sleep in. It was a little scary at first, when the lights were turned out, but I got used to it, and then it was fine. I will never forget that bed. It was so strange to have a bed at the top of a stairway.
I’m not sure where everyone else slept, but I do know that Cheryl got to stay at Aunt Ada’s house. I wish I could tell you more about how things were over there, but I don’t remember. Chery and I were talking about this the other night, and she reminded me of the apple butter my aunt made. I do remember that, now that she reminds me of it. It was wonderful…in fact, as I recall, all the food was wonderful. There is just something about eating your food in a mountain area, that made everything taste better. Cheryl reminded me about the Apple Butter…oh yes, it was the best I have ever tasted. In fact, I think it was the first Apple Butter I had ever tasted. I suppose that is why it was so good.
In fact, just about everything about being up there in Cascade, Idaho was great. The small town in the mountains that was so big in my past that I can still see it in my imagination. The cousins, and the fun, the food, and so much more. Just a very special time.
It was 4 years ago today at exactly 12:00pm that my dad went home to be with the Lord. I still can’t believe that he has left us, much less that it has been 4 years ago. Somehow I never considered that I would live one day on Earth without my dad being here. I suppose that seems like an unreasonable idea, but he always seemed so healthy and strong that my mind never considered anything else. There was never a time that he seemed older than his 50’s to me, although he was 83 when he went home. He was a man who just had the ability to seem timeless.
Every day, I miss his playful ways. He loved to joke around with his kids and grandkids, and we always felt the love that he wrapped around each of us. He had a way of accepting each person for who they were, and tried to teach us to do the same. I can’t say that I have always been so accepting, so I guess I will have to work hard so I can begin to live up to who he was…not that I will ever be able to fully succeed. My dad was one of a kind.
I often noticed how he treated my mom, his daughters, and women in general, and the best way to put it…and the only way that fully describes how he was…is that he was the last of the Southern Gentlemen type. The head of the household, who led with kindness, calmness, and love. Few people can say they were raised that way, but that is exactly how I was raised. And even right up until he went home, if we had a problem, Dad had a 
solution, and it was always given with respect for everyone involved.
Dad seldom lost his temper…which is hard to believe with 5 daughters, but if he did, it was usually concerning some injustice done…whether it was against a member of his family, or someone else. He was a very fair man, and he taught that to his girls. Dad’s simply don’t come in a better form than my dad. I can’t say enough good things about him. He will forever be, the Greatest Dad Ever, in my mind, and I know, in the minds of my sisters too. We love you so much Daddy, and we can’t wait to see you again.
When our nephew, Barry was a little boy, he decided that he didn’t really like having his birthday on December 11th, because it was so close to Christmas. Many people with December birthdays feel the same way. It always seems like their birthday gets lost in all of the Christmas hustle and bustle, and they end up feeling gypped.
I’m not sure if it was in protest, or what exactly, but at some point, Barry decided to change things up a bit. Obviously your birthday is when it is, and you can’t change that fact, but Barry decided to forgo the gift part of it until his un-birthday came around. The date he chose for his un-birthday, was of course, June 11th, because that put it exactly 6 months later. His mom, my sister-in-law, Jennifer always said that the perfect birthday was June 25th, because it was exactly 6 months from Christmas, giving the person who had that perfect birthday, gifts exactly 6 months apart. Barry thought that was a pretty good idea, but his birthday just didn’t cooperate, so he settled for the un-birthday of Jun 11th.
I always thought that was such a funny idea, but very clever. I don’t think I would like having my birthday that close to Christmas, because I can see where it could be 
problematic for the birthday person. Still, I don’t know if I would have ever considered that it could be celebrated at a different time. Barry was definitely using his head when he came up with that idea…unless he had a little help from his mom, my sister-in-law, Jennifer, and that is entirely possible.
I don’t know if Barry still celebrates his birthday in June, but since today is his real birthday, I just want to say happy birthday Barry!! You have grown into a very special person, and we are very proud of you. And if you do still celebrate your birthday in June, I’ll try very hard to remember to wish you a happy un-birthday then.
It is a comment most of us have either heard as children or said to our kids or grandkids…or both. “I’m going to throw you in the snowbank!” It was a comment that usually set the child on the receiving end to laughing, and maybe wondering if you would really do it, or if you were just kidding. The funny thing about it is that it was something that seldom really happened, and to be honest, I have often wondered why.
It is such a funny thing to think about…a big guy, usually the dad or grandpa, or uncle as had been the case in this scene, would pick up a kid, carry him out side, and deposit him in the snowbank. The kid comes up sputtering as they wipe the snow off of their face and try to get it out of their clothes, as it melts and runs down their skin causing that shocked feeling that can only happen when cold snow hits warm skin. Their shouts of shock and…well, stunned disbelief at just how cold it was. I think in this case, however Caalab actually liked it, and I know Josh got a big kick out if it.
Most kids love playing in the snow…throwing snowballs and building forts…building snowmen, and yes, being thrown in the snowbank. It is what makes wintertime so much fun for kids, who don’t even seem to notice the cold. They have a built in heating system it seems. I remember those days myself, and I look back now and wonder why the cold didn’t bother me very much. I suppose it all comes down to the amount of fun you are having in the snow, and kids can sure find a lot of ways to do just that.
It is the wonder and pleasure of playing that we seem to lose as adults, that they still have, that makes playing in the snow so fun. My granddaughter, Shai is like that. She loves the snow and wants it to snow every day from October through March. I have started to try to see the snow through her beautiful eyes, and I have learned that whether you are playing in the snow, building a snowman, or just enjoying the peace and quiet of a snowy night, there is a beauty and wonder that is attached to the snow, if you just take a moment to look around and see it. I have often thought about the phrase, “stop and smell the roses”, but maybe we should also stop and look at the snowflakes…at least once in a while.
I am not a Winter person, which is odd since I live in Wyoming, because we definitely get Winter. Still, there are times when I feel differently about it. Normally, the cold and, in Wyoming, the wind annoy me, as does the ice on the roads, but every once in a while, there is a night…or even just a few minutes that I feel…peaceful in the snow.
Life these days is so hectic, and there is seldom a moment to slow down, much less look around for beauty in the night air, so when there is a rare moment of peace and quiet, you want to savor it for as long as you can, before the rest of your hectic life catches up with the present time and you must return to normalcy…or maybe it is chaos.
I’m talking about that moment when you step outside, and it is so very quiet. Even though I live in a city, and quiet moments are rare, it was a moment with no cars going by. It took me by surprise. I just stepped outside, and stopped…because it was so very quiet. Everything was so very still that it felt like…a whisper. It’s hard for me to clearly describe that moment. It was so peaceful…so beautiful. It was the kind of moment when it felt, almost criminal to speak, because that kind of silence should not be broken. It was a gift, a precious moment of quiet, peaceful beauty…and it seemed to be here just for me, because no one else was around to notice or to care.
The sky was white and cold looking and the trees were perfectly still. The air was so still that it almost felt like it was frozen solid, and hanging there…suspended above the Earth. The night was so beautiful that it took my breath away. The moon peeked through the clouds and cast a soft light on the Earth below it. Along the street there were Christmas light twinkling, bringing the reminder of the wonderful season we are in. But, the amazing thing was that no one disturbed the silence, because no one was outside in the area but me.
In my hectic life, this particular moment felt totally foreign to me, and I couldn’t help but smile, because the whole scene was like stepping into a Christmas card. Perfect in every way. All too often we rush here and there trying to get all of our obligations done, and because there are so many other people out there doing the same thing, we all miss God’s beauty, that was given to us. While there is not much that can be done to slow our hectic lives, I feel very blessed to have been given just a moment that made me stop in awe and wonder at the peaceful scene around me.
Today is my niece Jessi’s 27th birthday, and while she is all grown up now, and a pleasure to be around, her birthday brings to mind an incident that happened when she was a very little girl. As you know, when children are little, their world pretty much revolves around the adults around them…especially before siblings begin to come on the scene. Jessi was the oldest of my sister, Allyn and her husband, Chris’ 4 children. The did not live near family at that time, and so she wasn’t even around cousins.
The terrible twos soon arrived, and while she had a brother, Ryan by that time, he was too little to cause much trouble. As you all know the terrible twos is a rough time in any parent’s life. The days are often filled with all the little no nos and hand slaps, as a child is trained on what is and is not allowed. This is not a pleasant time for anyone, and most parents find themselves looking forward to the future, while wondering why no one told them about all this before they had a second child.
Sometimes, after so much negative reinforcement, a little joking around with your child can make those difficult moments a little lighter. Allyn always had a way of joking around with her kids that was different from what most parents would do. She would call them cute little nicknames, like Squirrel, which was the endearing term she would give her daughter, Lindsay later on in life. She would also make up little songs and funny sayings to lighten the mood. One thing she always said to her little Jessi when she would try to usurp her 
authority is, “I’m the mom!!” To which Jessi would answer, “No, I’n da mom!!” As this little argument proceeded, my sister said, pointing at Jessi, “Don’t you ever say I’m the mom!!” Laughing, of course. At that point, little Jessi came right back…pointing her little finger high above her head at her mom and said, “Don’t you EBBER!!”
Well, as I’m sure you can imagine, the argument was over, as my sister dissolved into giggles and laughter. Jessi has grown into a wonderful young lady, who is always a joy, but still very much a jokester! Happy birthday Jessi!! I love you very much…but don’t you EBBER!!
Siara and Lacey have been friends almost since birth. They always seemed like two of a kind. Where you found one you found the other. It isn’t often that cousins get along as well as these two girls do. Family gatherings would find them tucked in a quiet little corner sharing little secrets that only they were allowed to know. They would chatter on for hours, never running out of things to say.
Lacey is almost a year older than Siara, but that never mattered to them either. So often, when kids are a year or more apart, there is constant vying for superiority…especially between cousins, but not so with Lacey and Siara. That always amazed me. Most of the other cousins fought at least off and on, but not those two little girls. They giggled and talked, played and…well, just about anything but fight.
Every weekend that they could they would spend the night with each other. Taking turns between their own houses, and their grandparents houses. It didn’t really matter, because the only indication that the girls were in the house was the occasional giggling that could be heard from their vicinity. They would talk half the night, and then be next to impossible to wake up. It got to the point where you didn’t expect to see one without the other. I wonder if their mom’s thought they had adopted another daughter, and they might as well have.
As the years went by, nothing changed between the two cousins. They were together at school, and at play. Their interests were largely the same. Probably the only real differences were the fact that Lacey was a little more shy and quiet, and Siara developed a love of cheer leading. And that is a bit of a difference, I guess. From the quiet to the yelling!! Still the differences didn’t matter to them. Lacey graduated from high school last year, and Siara will graduate this year. I think that no matter where life takes them, there will always be a closeness between them…for they are more than cousins, they are friends.
