Caryn
In July of 1976, Bob and I made plans to take a trip to Yakima, Washington to visit his great grandparents. My grandparents wanted to make a trip to Cascade, Idaho to visit some family there. Bob and I decided to take them to Cascade, and another family member was going to pick them up and bring them home when they were ready. My grandfather was 83 years old at the time. He would live 4 more years before he went home to be with the Lord. My grandmother was 67 years old at that time. She would live 12 more years before she went home to be with the Lord.
While he was 83 years old, my grandfather was still pretty sharp, but there were things that worried him some. My mom told me to just do our best to put him at ease if he got nervous about any of the trip. This trip was interesting to say the least. We were in my 1968 Plymouth Fury III, and while it could comfortably seat 4 adults and two children, it was…well, snug. We had a car seat in the center front and a car seat in the center back. I know that you aren’t supposed to have a car seat in front, but there was no such law or requirement in 1976. My grandparents just took it all in stride, and the girls were very good, so while it was a bit tight, it was a wonderful trip.
The trip was going quite smoothly, and we were all enjoying ourselves. My grandparents proved to be very pleasant traveling companions. Most of the trip went uneventfully, but there were several occasions when my grandfather thought we might be on the wrong road. Bob was so kind to him. He would pull over, and get out the map. He would show my grandfather where we were on the map, where we were going, and the road we would take to get there. Grandpa would immediately feel more relaxed, and the trip would continue. This happened several times, but Bob always handled each event with kindness and compassion. Grandpa was also worried at one point about whether or not we needed chains for the tires, but Bob again put his concerns to rest, and our trip turned out beautifully all the way to Cascade, Idaho where we dropped them off and continued on to Yakima, Washington.
About 4 years later, my grandfather was in the hospital…his last time in the hospital before he passed away. Bob and I went up to visit him. It was a pleasant enough visit, under the circumstances, but the thing about that visit that I will never forget is that while my grandfather’s memory was going, and he really thought I was the nurse, he knew exactly who Bob was. They talked about that trip to Cascade, Idaho, and I could tell that while it seemed like such a little thing to Bob to ease my grandfather’s worried mind, it had meant much more to my grandfather. It was an unforgettable act of kindness.
My grandson, Christopher, always loved to play in boxes, baskets, cupboards, or any other possible hiding place. I’m not sure why he liked these places, but I do know that picture after picture of my grandson finds him grinning happily from his hiding place as he peeks out to see if anyone is watching him, or if his parents can find him.
I am always amazed by the things toddlers see as being all important. Little ones are continually watching their parents and other adults around them to see what they are doing. Little did we know that our every move would be watched and mimicked…until we had kids that is. It makes you want to think about the things you do and say, doesn’t it? Children interpret the actions of adults as being what the cool kids do. Then they do everything in their power to imitate those people who are so important to them.
We always found that with Christopher, the household chores were the most important part of his day. His waking hours would find him “folding clothes” or should I say, unfolding the ones Corrie had in the basket or taking the unfolded clothes out of the basket, because there was something about that basket that made it very important. If it was a good enough place for the clothes, it was good enough for Christopher…so, clothes removed, enter Christopher, and there he would be sitting in the basket grinning…with the clothes all around the basket.
Christopher was also very interested in the kitchen work. Given a free moment from taking care of all the family’s laundry, Christopher would make his way into the kitchen to start dinner for the family. Pots and pans would come out of the cupboards in preparation for the days meals. Sometimes, it 
seems the pans had moved to the back of the cupboard…as pans will find a way of doing, but little trooper that he was, Christopher would simply climb into the cupboard and crawl back to the back to retrieve the exact pan necessary to making the meal he was working on.
When you are taking care of your family, Christopher always found that the day’s work was never really done. He “worked and worked” all day long…as his parents went along behind him picking up the clutter left behind…but really, how could they be upset when Christopher would present that precious, grinning little face. After all, we can always use a little help in the kitchen…right?
Bob and his dad have always had a close relationship. As the first son, and the only boy for 14 years, Bob and his dad had quite a bit of time for father/son bonding. They did a lot of things together. My father-in-law was a mechanic by trade before he retired, and he handed down many valuable skills to Bob. But while there was always work to be done around the place they lived, my father-in-law still made time for having a little fun with his kids.
For a number of years, my father in law worked at jobs that caused him to be out of town a lot, so the times he was in town were precious to him. He wanted to connect with his kids…all of them. He is first and foremost a family man, and they are his number one priority. That is a quality he instilled in my husband, his son, Bob.
Those were times when meals were eaten around the table at night, and everyone talked about the events of the day. The kids were home for dinner most nights, and life really was a little bit like the old television shows, except with his job, my father-in-law had to miss many of those nights. It was something that tore him up inside, especially when his kids were little and didn’t know who he was when he came home. He couldn’t do that, so he quite the jobs that put him out of town, and worked nearer to home. He and his family never regretted that decision.
Bob and his dad still have a very close relationship…one to be cherished. At 82 years old, his dad is not as strong as he once was, but he is still very much a sweet, loving man. The relationship I see between them today warms my heart. My father-in-law has always had a wonderful sense of humor. Through our 36 years of marriage, I have been able to enjoy the many moments filled with laughter in my in-laws home…and they are moments I will treasure forever.
After reading a story I wrote about our grandmother, my cousin Shirley, told me something about her mother, my Aunt Ruth, that shows that while my aunt was a beautiful, petite woman, she was also a strong woman, like her mother before her. My Aunt Ruth has always loved horses. I have a number of pictures of her, and quite often she is with horses. Some people are just amazing with horses…seem to know what they are thinking even. I believe that my aunt was one of those people. In fact, I’m pretty sure she loved most animals. She is also pictured with dogs quite often, and they seemed to be best friends. Not everyone has the gift of being so good with animals, but she certainly did.
Aunt Ruth thrived on the outdoor life. She loved life on a farm, and growing much of their own food. They had a place outside of Casper, Wyoming when I was little, and she had a garden that took up about 3/4 of an acre. Like her mother before her, she taught her children to help care for that garden, and help with the 100 or so chickens she raised every year for butchering. They hunted and froze wild game as well. Not only did my aunt and uncle teach their children how to live off the land and love the outdoors, but to have fun doing it.
As I said earlier in my story, my Aunt Ruth loved horses, but I also think there might have been a bit of an inventor in her. When the work was done, my aunt came up with a great new invention I’ll call The Butter Churn. What?? You don’t think my aunt invented the butter churn? Well…I think you just might be wrong. Let’s just see. My cousin, Shirley tells it like this, “When there was time she would let us take the horse out to ride and she would give us each a quart jar of cream and while we were riding we would turn that cream into butter. She said that was the easiest way to do it but I can tell you it wasn’t that easy on our arms. That was a lot of shaking. But 
the best part was no additives and no preservatives, and boy was it good butter.”
I know, you might say that there is no proof that she was the one to invent that, and you would be right, but there is also no proof, that I know of, that she didn’t, so I’ll just stick by my story that my Aunt Ruth invented a new and, in my opinion, very interesting, although maybe not easy way to churn butter. And since I really like the taste of real fresh butter, I can totally imagine just how good it was. I just wish I could remember it, because I’m quite sure I must have had some.
When a couple marries and begins a family, a chain reaction has begun that cannot be easily stopped. Whether the couple stays together or not the future has begun. New parents aren’t thinking about the distant future when they look at their newborn baby, but that is exactly how time will see it. This child has the potential to bring forth so many more children, and then grandchildren and great grandchildren…future generations waiting in the wings.
As the parents gaze into their child’s little face, noticing their features, they miss the future located there, because at that moment, all they can see is the present. Their beautiful son or daughter is finally here, after what seemed like an endless wait. In their minds it will now be a long time before this little one will be grown up. The reality is very different, however. It will seem like next week, when they look back on the time between this glorious day, and the day their child will be grown.
Time goes by so quickly, and before long their little baby is starting school. The young parents still feel like there are many years before the next big step occurs. But, again they are wrong, and before they know it, their child is driving, dating, graduating, marrying, and becoming a parent. The cycle begins again. The parents are standing there looking at their new grandchild, while their son or daughter gazes into that little face, noticing their features, and missing the future located there, but
the grandparents see it. Their years have educated them and they now understand how quickly time goes by.
The parents try to explain what they know to be true to their son or daughter, but their younger years fool them into disbelief, and they comment on how far off the day will be when this little one will become a parent. The view forward into time is deceiving to them, but the knowing grandparents smile and in a wisdom that has come from the years so quickly gone, they tell their child…now a new parent, “No, it will be next week.”
I don’t pretend to know a lot of the details of my dad’s young life. I do know that the times weren’t always easy, and since my grandfather, who worked for the railroad, wasn’t around much, the kids helped out around the place. My grandmother was a very strong woman, and she was very capable of running the farm. That may have been how many of the women were back then, but as strong women go, she was right up there at the top, or so I’m told. She trained her children to be hard workers, and responsible people, and they all were. My Uncle Bill and my dad told me about blowing tree stumps out of the fields with dynamite so the land could be worked. I’m sure they didn’t mind that job too much, since dynamite was something the also played around with…like blowing gate posts deeper into the ground, only to have to fix it before their mom got back from town. My guess is that she was about the only thing they were afraid of.
My Aunt Laura was ten years older than my Uncle Bill, who was the second child, so she helped with caring for the little ones so her mom could do the other things she needed to do. I’m quite sure that running a farm would have been very difficult without the help of my Aunt Laura, not to mention lonely in those early years, when the younger children weren’t much company. There were fun times too, of course, such as fishing, which the boys thoroughly enjoyed, but there was always work to be done, and the fun times were squeezed into the middle.
Everyone helped out…the girls as well as the boys. From running a horse drawn plow to a tractor, stacking hay and caring for the animals, it was a team effort. The kids had great respect for their mother and would do anything for her. It was a time that was much different from our own. There weren’t as many conveniences, so the land had to be worked in the old ways…using horses. I don’t think my Aunt Ruth minded that too much because many of the pictures I saw her in included horses. They did have a tractor, although I don’t think it was in the early years, but when they did, it was obvious that my Uncle Bill enjoyed using it very much. The boys always liked machinery…throughout their entire lives.
Life on a farm in the late 1920’s and early 1930’s was difficult at its best, and downright ugly at it worst, and it took strong men and women to make things work, but that really is what our country is all about…strong people doing their best to do what is right and good. It is our heritage, and it’s not a bad one. Strong people are what built this country and I believe there are still a lot of us around to continue to make this country great.
When a baby starts crying…everybody reacts. Sometimes it’s a relaxed, normal reaction, such as the baby’s mom or dad…who are used to the crying. Even the grandparents can be pretty relaxed with it, because they know the baby and what this type of crying means.
The reactions of a friend who is holding the baby are a little more nervous. They often range from “What did I do?” to “I don’t think your baby likes me!” looks. Everyone wants to be the one who picks up a baby and the baby just snuggles up and smiles, or the one who picks up a crying baby, and the baby miraculously quits crying…just because they saw your face. Of course, the reality is that unless you are the baby’s mommy or daddy, or maybe grandma or grandpa, you probably aren’t going to get the reaction you hoped for from a crying baby. They want their mommy or daddy, especially at bedtime or mealtime.
Some of the funniest reactions to a crying baby, in my opinion, come from other children. They often think they are going to be in trouble for somehow hurting the baby, because after all “Why in the world would this baby cry unless it was hurt”, right? Claims of “I didn’t do anything!” or “What did I do?” are fairly immediate when they are handed a baby and the baby simply turnes into a screaming bundle of noise in their arms. They just don’t understand that the baby is feeling very unsafe right now, because this person who is holding them isn’t much bigger that they are…and “Where is my mommy!!”
And for the child sitting next to the poor little one who is holding the screaming baby, the looks are a mixture of “Whew, I’m glad that isn’t me!” and “Will somebody do something about this kid!” They are really just glad the baby didn’t cry while they were holding it, and…”Maybe I’ll wait for a better time for my turn…thanks!” Kids just don’t want to be singled out as the one that made the baby cry!
Now a sister or brother who is used to this “screaming kid who has joined our family” has an even different reaction. Day after day, they hear the baby crying, and they often can’t figure out what
this kid’s problem is, and why they can’t “be more like me”…because “I never cry for no reason!” and “Why did we get this kid anyway!” When they found out they were getting a little brother or sister, they were so excited, and when the baby arrived, then confusion set in. “Ok people, this crying is just not what I signed on for when you told me I was getting a brother or sister!” “I kinda wanted a bigger kid…you know, like a new best friend…soooooo, could we just trade this one in one a better model…I think this one is just a bit defective!!” “Hey Mommy, can you please turn the volume down on this kid…or better yet, maybe we should put him in his crib…and shut the door please!!”
Kids are so full of life. They haven’t lived long enough to become jaded or weary, so they still feel excitement over the simple things, like a camping or fishing trip. Josh and his whole family love to go camping in the mountains, and fishing at the lake. The boys get really excited about fishing. They compete for the most catches…and just about everything else. The funny thing is that their competitions are usually friendly, not angry…thankfully.
But competition aside, what impresses me the most with kids is that they don’t look at life the way we do. They have so many hopes and dreams for the future. Nothing seems impossible to them. Optimism…that is what it is…that and wonder. They are still in wonder of what the world is all about, and most of it is exciting to them. Especially the littlest ones. It is all so new.
Even the teenagers though, feel excitement about what life is about to show them around the very next corner. And when they are doing their favorite things, all kids have a tendency to just simply get high on life. So when it comes to camping or fishing, swimming or sports, they have a way of getting so excited that they jump for joy.
Why can’t we adults keep that childlike wonder? As adults, we seem to allow ourselves to get…tired maybe, but mostly we just lose that sense of wonder…that wide eyed wonder that looks at the world and says…”Wow, look at that.” It’s that feeling that there is something new and exciting left in the world.
Josh is one of those kids who still has that sense of wonder. He still sees things as exciting and fun. Like leaping off of a rock into the air…just because it looked like it might be fun. When was the last time any of us took a moment to look around us to see if their might be something that would fill us with wonder, and get us high on life?
When kids are little, the things they see as important are the things the adults around them are doing. It may be something that we don’t even realize would stand out to them, but if it is something they don’t have or get to do, them it feels to them like it must be a grown up thing, and therefore important. In fact, some of the things we adults dislike the most, seem the most important to the kids, like glasses.
I remember when I was a kid, glasses seemed like the coolest thing out there, but once I had to wear them, I sure felt differently. They weren’t nearly as much fun as it seemed to me that other people had wearing them. I suppose it must have been that I would see people laughing and notice the glasses, and so it just seemed to go hand in hand.
Of course, sometimes, as I believe was the case in this picture of my brother-in-law, Ron, someone puts the glasses on just to see how funny it looks. I don’t know whose glasses these were, but I’m pretty sure they belonged to a woman. Not that it really matters, because even if they had been men’s glasses, they still would have been huge on Ron’s little 2 or 3 year old face. No, it is my guess that the adults around Ron decided to see how funny he would look in the big glasses, and once they saw it, they took a picture so they could re-live that funny moment.
Yes, kids might think that certain things are very cool because they are an adult thing, but quite often it is the adults who get the biggest kick out of the outlandish results. And, as long as their are kids, there will be outlandish antics and looks as they strive to mimic the adults in their world, because kids are very interested in being all grown up…after all, to them, it is a grown up thing.
As I was sitting in church, waiting for the service to start, my oldest grandson arrived and sat next to me. I was struck by just how tall and muscular he has grown. At 15 Chris plays football, and lifts weights to make himself a more formidable opponent when he is playing his favorite of the positions he plays…defensive end. Chris loves to take down the opposing team’s quarterback. But while I am very proud of his football abilities, that is really not what my story is about. My story is about feeling very small…not Chris…me.
It seems like only yesterday that Christopher was born. We called him Christopher then, but no longer. He is getting so close to manhood, that Christopher really doesn’t fit anymore. He has been Chris for some time now, and I have gotten used to that, even though I still slip sometimes and call him Christopher. It’s like that was his little boy name, and it is too small for him now. It’s possible that later on, that name might be the one he prefers again…only time will tell, but I really doubt it. No, I think those little boy days are gone forever, only to return when he has a son with a name that can be shortened as he grows up. It’s not like I feel that I missed something in his life, because I have had the great privilege of being there for all the major events so far. It’s just that lump in the throat feeling you get when you realize that time will not stand still, and children grow up and become adults and start their own lives. It’s that feeling that things will never be the same again. And for a moment in time, you would love to slow things down, but then you realize that with that passage of time, comes the promise of the future generations that will come out of these children, now almost 
adults, and you realize that it will all be ok. The future is bright, and there will be new generations to get to know and watch grow into adulthood too.
It isn’t his name that made me feel different today, however, it was his size. When did he get to be so tall and muscular? I have spent lots of time around him. When he was younger I saw him almost every day, and now I see him at least twice a week, so why is it so shocking to see how big he is? I don’t really have the answers to these questions, I just know that it seems like he grew over night, and that while I have always known that I am not tall…suddenly next to my grandson, I am feeling very small.
