Family
When my parents were dating, they sometimes double dated with my mom’s sister, Evelyn, and her husband, George. They would go to formal affairs, such as the military ball, but more often they went to movies. Family was important to all of them, and sometimes the best double date is your family.
One night, Mom, Dad, Aunt Evelyn and Uncle George went to the movies. The had a great time and were enjoying their visit on the way home. My dad had driven that night, and so he and my mom were taking Aunt Evelyn and Uncle George to their Mills home, before he would take my mom home.
It was a beautiful moonless night. They drive past The Wagon Wheel skating rink, and around the corner to the railroad track. At that time, there was no signal light or gate. As they started to cross the track, something caught Uncle George’s eye. Thankfully for all of them, he knew what it was. He yelled, “Train!” My Dad instinctively turned the wheel in the same direction as the train was going, and the car was dragged along beside the train until the train was able to stop.
My dad was normally a very calm man, but this was no normal situation. Dad got out of the car and threw down the popcorn he had been holding in his lap. He went up to the engineer, and started yelling at him. You see, the engineer didn’t have the headlight turned on in the engine, and remember that it was a moonless night with limited lighting in the area.
The engineer insisted that it wasn’t his fault. The police were called, and a representative from the railroad showed up. They argued the matter back and forth, but even with the 4 people in my dad’s car insisting that the engine had no headlight on, the railroad wouldn’t step up and do the right thing. The accident was deemed my dad’s fault.
So, after a very frustrating investigation, the couples were cleared to go. They got back into the car, which was thankfully, ok to drive, and my dad started looking around. He searched for several minutes, and them my mom asked, “What are you looking for?” To which my dad answered, “My popcorn!!” They all began to laugh then and told him that he had thrown it on the ground when he got out of the car, because he was so mad at the engineer. You can imagine Dad’s surprise. He simply didn’t remember throwing the popcorn down, because of the shock of the whole situation. It would be the one thing they could laugh about when they thought back on the train wreck.
For Mother’s Day, my mom often asks us to do the projects she has planned on over the year. It is a great way to get things done that she would otherwise have to pay someone to do. So, we pick out a weekend, and get the plans made, and on the chosen weekend, we all descend on Mom’s house.
This year’s projects consisted of spring cleaning her bedroom, re-painting trim on the house, planting her flowers and cleaning the yard, and building a deck. Seventeen people showed up to help, a pretty good crew. We have been doing this for several years now, but it always amazes me that that so many people can have a general plan, but no true foreman, and yet the as the jobs are laid out everyone steps up and gets started.
At first, it looks like total chaos, then maybe organized chaos, but then suddenly, the different projects begin to come together, and before you know it something amazing has happened. Seventeen people who don’t normally do this kind of work…who are everything from mechanics to teachers, students to insurance agents, in the medical field to police officers to those in the legal field…and yet today we were painters, gardeners, carpenters, housekeepers, and cooks, and that worked for us.
So, why do we do this and how is it that it works for us. Well, love can produce a multitude of talents that we didn’t really know existed. My mom wanted nothing more than to have her children all together. 
It wasn’t just about the projects, although those were important to her too, but she has always liked it when her children are together. The projects turned out great. And while we are not quite finished, we will be tomorrow, and for another year, we probably won’t all work on a big project. But Mother’s Day will roll around again, and new projects will be dreamed up. And once again, we will all become weekend warriors, ready to tackle the jobs she needs done. It’s not a bad Mother’s Day gift, after all. And in reality, to her, it is the best gift ever. Having her children all together showing their love for her.
Watching the news every day, we hear more and more about flooding and sandbagging. Snow pack in many areas is 300% above normal or even more. Rivers are very high, and lots of people are sandbagging in the hope of holding back the water. People are being forced to move to higher ground, and some have had to abandon their homes.
Wyoming had a lot of water last year, but nothing like they are expecting this year. I have lived here since I was 3 years old, and I don’t remember ever having water this high, but I suppose I might not have been paying much attention as a child. Now, as an insurance agent, I have clients who live by the river, and it does concern me. I know they have flood insurance, but I don’t want their homes destroyed. You can replace the home, but the memories and pictures and things are gone, and cannot be replaced.
Bob’s extended family lives in Forsyth, Montana, and they are right by the Yellowstone River. Flooding has already started there. I have seen pictures of standing water on the football field of the high school. Bob’s uncle lives just on the other side of the levee from the river, and said that if his sump pump wasn’t working, he would have 4 feet of water in his basement.
I occurs to me that an event like this one, with flooding in so many states can change lives in such 
a short time…sometimes forever. The floods along the Mississippi that are devastating so much of Louisiana…not to mention the rest of the states along the Mississippi, are just horrible. Of course, I don’t wish drought on anyone, but I wish there was a balance of the two.
I know this season will pass, and the waters will recede. People will rebuild, and move forward again. Human beings are a resilient bunch. We tend to fight our way back from the brink in many ways. Of course, after the return, we will find ourselves forever changed because of the time we spent in the water’s path.
Few things give as much pleasure as the excitement of a child when they receive a gift that so obviously excites them. And for a toddler, few things are more exciting than receiving a pony. Ponies have changed over the years, but how much kids love them hasn’t. How is it that kids just seem to instinctively know that riding is fun. We don’t even have to tell them. They just know. I suppose they have watched us, or television, or other kids. Whatever it is, they learn the fun of the ride…on whatever form of transportation they can catch a ride on.
Christopher received his pony for his first or second Christmas, and he was so excited. He had big eyes anyway, but when he was excited…well, wow!! His eyes in this picture were so big!! Christopher always had great expressions and this was one of the best. In fact, this is one of his favorite pictures. Those big eyes are such a draw.
Christopher and Shai, his cousin, being born one day apart and Amy babysitting Christopher, made them best friends from the start. Naturally they spent a lot of time together when their mom’s weren’t working too, so Shai had her opportunity to come over and play at Christopher’s house. 
On this particular day, they were taking turns on the pony, and both were equally excited about it. The adventure was on, and they were going places. No one knew where except them, but they knew.
Ponies just seem to have that effect on kids…or people for that matter. We all take great pleasure in them. Real or toys, they remind us of a simpler time and a bit of freedom. We can imagine the wind in our hair as we ride free across the plains. Sometimes if we try really hard, we can imagine a trip back in time to the days of the old west. Of course, for a two year old, it’s really all about the ride.
Thirty five years ago today, my youngest daughter, Amy was born. She was born 11 months after my older daughter, so for 1 month out of every year, they are the same age. It is something that I think the girls have both loved and hated, but I hope that they will come to enjoy the uniqueness of it. I have always thought it was very cool. I found out that there is actually a name for that…Irish Twins…a bit of trivia that I find interesting.
Amy has always been a short girl, so all of the various nick names were applied to her. I called her Strawberry Shortcake, and her dad called her squirt and shorty. Amy also had big eyes, blond hair and little bird legs, so I called her Tweety Bird. Nick names seem to be a way of life with most parents, and they quickly become little endearing terms. I don’t think parents ever forget the nick names we give our kids. They are just so cute that they are precious memories to us.
When Amy was about 2, I started bowling on a morning league with a nursery for the kids. Corrie had a great time, but it wasn’t quite so good for Amy…at first. The other kids thought she was a “walking doll” and they wanted to carry her around…an idea she didn’t go for, so when I heard this blood curdling scream that I recognized as Amy, I went running to the nursery, only to find that she was fine, and the kids would not try to carry her around again. Problem solved. As I said, 
Amy was little, but very capable of taking care of herself.
Amy has long since outgrown all of the little girl stories, even if she didn’t grow tall. She is a loving wife and mother, as well as a very capable insurance agent. I am very proud of all she has accomplished. She is a sweet and loving daughter and granddaughter, who is always willing to help out wherever she is needed. There is a saying, “Big things come in small packages” and that fits Amy very well. She may be small, but she is big hearted, a big help, and a big success. And I am very proud of her. Happy birthday Amy!! I love you very much!!
When my mother was young, she and her 8 brothers and sisters helped out with chores around the house. Dishes were a big undertaking with 11 people in the family, so every day, after supper, Grandma would wash the dishes, and the children would dry them and put them away.
Many times there would be a lot of conversation going on, but as with any group of kids, sometimes arguing seemed the order of the day. One day in particular, the arguing became rather heated, and Grandma had simply had enough of it, so she yelled over the arguing, “Alright, that is enough!! I don’t want to hear another peep out of you kids!!”
Well, my grandmother was a tiny little woman of only 5′, in her tall days, but one thing I can tell you from personal experience…you didn’t mess with Grandma! Sometimes small packages can carry a big boom! And that is exactly how it was with my grandma, so when she told her kids to knock it off, they knew that she meant business.
Still, in every crowd there is one person who figures that life is about taking chances. So, as all the children stood there working quietly, my Aunt Deloris, Aunt Dee as we called her, assessed the situation and made a decision. She quietly said, “Peep.” Well, you can imagine that the other children assumed that she was in BIG trouble, but Grandma, try as she might, couldn’t help herself. She burst out laughing. Of course, everyone else started laughing too, and the argument was over.
Nevertheless, Grandma had a dilemma, and I don’t know if it started as a result of that argument or not, but Grandma decided that a good way to stop an argument before it started…at least while doing the dishes, was to have a sing-along. She figured that singing children weren’t arguing children. Thus, was born what I will call the Dish-Along.
When my girls were little, Bob and I wanted to start bowling. We started looking for a babysitter. I volunteered at the girls’ grade school doing throat cultures, and had seen a girl there who I knew to be the daughter of a man Bob worked with, and they just happened to live out in the country, just about a mile from our house, so it seemed ideal.
Molly was a little young, just in 6th grade, but she had 2 little sisters, Kelly and Jenny, so she was somewhat experienced, and her family lived close by, so if anything went wrong, help would come quickly. The decision was made. We asked her, and she agreed. She would babysit every Monday night, and assorted other days, when we needed her.
My first instincts about Molly were correct. She had some experience…lots of experience. She must have been a great help to her mom and dad, with her little sisters, because she knew what little girls would want to do. She played outside with them when the weather was nice, and inside when it wasn’t. At Christmastime, she would bring paper, glue, and glitter; and the kids would make us pictures to hang up for the holidays. And the best news, she never left us a mess. She even washed the dishes. The house was spotless when we came home. I was stunned, to say the very least! Where do you find a babysitter like that? Almost nowhere!! We were so completely blessed by Molly!!
But, more important than the blessing Molly was to Bob and me, was the blessing she was to our girls. They dearly loved Molly, and couldn’t wait to have her come to babysit the next time.
There were never tears when we left, there were smiling waves goodbye. We left our house, knowing that it and more importantly, our children were in great hands.
As the years went by, and our girls no longer needed a babysitter, Molly would go on to college and marriage. She moved to Iowa, and has children of her own. While I haven’t seen her in many years now, I am in touch with her family and hopefully her soon as well, on Facebook. While she has a life of her own now, I hope she knows that we will always have a soft spot in our hearts for the best babysitter we ever had!
When my grandchildren, Christopher, Shai, and Caalab were little, my daughter Amy stayed home with her kids and babysat Christopher for her sister. It was such a blessing, because Corrie and I would come over at lunchtime and have lunch with them. Corrie was able to spend precious time with Christopher, and I was able to spend precious time with my kids and grandkids…at least the ones we had then. Joshua would join our family later on.
Amy’s house was a lively place those days. The kids kept her running and there was never a dull moment. I’m sure she was exhausted many times, but I hope she knows what a blessing she was to Corrie, Kevin, and me. The knowledge that the children were happy and well cared for, as well as loved, brings a peace of mind that cannot be matched. And most daycares do not allow parents to stop by for lunch, as it disrupts their day, and the children can get cranky when the parent leaves, but, while he hated to see his mommy go, Christopher was fine, because he was with his Aunty Amy, and his cousins.
Don’t get me wrong, there were the normal fights and competitions during the day, but because of the close surroundings, a close friendship grew. Since Christopher was 1 day older than Shai, they had spent all their lives together, and would do so until they started grade school. First, in Amy’s care until she needed to work full time. Then in their next sitter, Dani’s care, and finally the pre-school/daycare they would go to before grade school began. Theirs would be a friendship to last a lifetime. And when Caalab came along, they would work very hard to be big helpers to Amy, even though they were only 17 months older than he was.
The kids got personalized care from Amy, because she had just the two, then three. She would not babysit Joshua, because she went to work before he arrived. I feel a little sad for him, because he did not have that special time with his Aunty Amy like Christopher did. She taught the kids things, played games, trained them in walking, pottying, and talking, although she might regret that part sometimes. Amy played a big part in those kids early lives, and I was
always glad.
The days the kids spent together with Amy were filled with giggles and laughs, and a few tears, but she would kiss the boo boos and stop the fights, and get things back into fun mode very quickly. Whenever I was there, I could tell that the kids were so happy and blessed. I wish I could tell you about everything they did during those days, but unfortunately I didn’t get to see that part of the day like Amy did. I just know that the babies grew into happy children, and we knew that they spent every day in the company of friends.
Awwww, here it comes…Summer vacation. School is out, the days are warm, the kids get to sleep in, play, swim, ride bikes. The days of freedom are upon us…or at least upon our kids. And don’t we all wish we could be those kids again. No responsibilities, no jobs, no schedule. Just freedom!!
I remember waking up at…oh noon. It was already warm, so we would head outside to enjoy the day. I loved the warmth, and so sunbathing was definitely on my agenda. Swimming was the next thing I wanted to do. Every weekday afternoon, we would walk up to Kelly Walsh High School, to the swimming pool. We would walk down Third to Huber, down to 8th, down to Sally Ln, which by the way and oddly, I’m sure, is where I now live, across the footbridge to Forest, up to 12th and on to Kelly Walsh. After swimming, we would head home for something to snack on. Yep, what a great way to spend the day.
That was many years ago, and I find myself thinking just how much the kids of today will miss the lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer. My grandchildren can’t wait to grow up. Sure, they enjoy the summer days, but it seems like all they want is to be done with school. I can understand that, especially as summer approaches, but when they just want high school to be over, I have to think that they don’t know the freedom they will be losing at that point. As they move into adulthood, they will now have jobs and families. Responsibilities replace freedoms. But, they don’t seem to care. All I can say to them is slow down, and enjoy the ride. Your days of freedom won’t last forever.
When my grandparents were married, on December 24, 1927, our country was in a recession, and money was scarce. My grandfather had a matching set of Sixguns that he loved, but he loved Grandma more, so he sold those guns to get enough money to pay for the wedding costs and get Grandma a ring. He was never able to get them back, but always felt that he got the better end of the deal.
Since times were tough, Grandpa decided to forego a wedding ring for himself so that Grandma could have one. He wanted a wife and family more than a ring. His instincts were good too since they were married 52 years before Grandpa went home to be with the Lord. Their marriage was blessed with 9 children, and countless grandchildren, great grandchildren, and great great grandchildren.
One day, years later, when their second child, my Aunt Virginia, was 8 to 10 years old, all the children were playing outside. Aunt Virginia went exploring at the side of the house, between Grandma and Grandpa’s house and Great Grandma’s house, where there was a flower garden. She looked down, and there in the garden was a man’s wedding ring. It must have been dug up during garden work. Excitedly, she picked it up and ran into the house to show it to her parents.
Grandpa looked at it and told her it was a beautiful ring. He put it on his hand, and looked at it. Then he took it off and gave it back to Aunt Virginia. She said, “Daddy, you should keep it.” He said he couldn’t, but she insisted, and that is how my grandfather got his wedding band from his daughter. Aunt Virginia was so pleased to be able to give her dad the wedding ring he had never had and would not be able to buy for himself, as there were too many other things that his paycheck was needed for. And Grandpa was so pleased that she wanted him to have such a beautiful ring. He wore the ring proudly for the rest of his life. And everyone in his family was very please that he had been blessed with the ring.
