Me
When my grandchildren were younger, their moms had to be to work at 8:00am, and I didn’t have to be to work until 9:00am, so I took the kids to school and daycare. They would begin arriving at my house around 7:30am, and when Josh, my youngest grandson, would walk in the front door, the first words out of his mouth were always the same…”Treat, Grandma…treat!!” Josh was a treat-a-holic, he had a one track mind, and he was always hungry. Left alone with a bag of candy, he would devour it all in one sitting. It wasn’t a matter of greed, he just liked treats so much that he couldn’t stop himself very easily.
When Josh would start asking for a treat with his cute little face, it was a hard thing to resist and I think he knew that, because he took full advantage of the hold he had on his grandma’s heart. He probably conned me out of more treats than the other three grandchildren combined. The only good news was that I tried to have some nutritious sweet snacks in the house, so he wasn’t always eating junk. I just don’t know how one kid could eat so many treats.
Josh can be a bottomless pit, but not usually for the normal foods unless he is in a growth spurt, but he is always a bottomless pit when it comes to sweets, like many other people I know, but that is where the similarities end, and I’m sure it is because he is a kid. You would expect that a child who likes candy and treats as much as Josh, would be an overweight child, but as soon as his baby days were over, so was any sign of chubbiness. Josh turned into a slender, athletic young man, who is a good basketball player and runner. He is also doing well in school, and I am very proud of him, but oh, I do remember the days when that little boy could smile his way into my heart and come out with the prize he was looking for…a treat.
As my granddaughter gets older, if find myself thinking back on the years since she arrived. As the mother of daughters, my grandsons were a culture shock for me. Boys are very different from girls. They are rough and tumble, and don’t care about the personal things like girls do. Girls worry about how they look and their clothes, and as in the case of my granddaughter, how her nails look. She used to tell me that my nails were a mess if they were chipped at all. Then she informed me that I needed to fix them. Boys just roll their eyes at those things and head outside to get in the mud. When she was young, we shared girl time together, just her and me. It was a special time for us.
Now that little girl is gone, and she has been replaced with a beautiful and capable young lady. Yes, she still cares about how she looks, although she really doesn’t need to worry about that, because she is stunning. She probably wouldn’t agree, and might not like it that I have singled her out today. Like any other teenaged girl she thinks she has had a bad hair day or bad makeup day, and this, that, or something else isn’t exactly right, but she couldn’t look bad if she tried.
And, she has the ability to be such a beautiful spirit. She is kind and loving, especially to children…a trait she gets from her mom, and children love her…something that she gets from her grandpa. She can be funny or serious, happy or sad, quiet or loud, but to me she is always a beautiful person, inside and out. She lives up to her name, Shai…Hebrew for gift…and that she definitely is…a precious gift, 
that I am so blessed to have…a granddaughter, and the only one I’ll ever have.
Sometimes, as with every teenager, her feelings get hurt, because someone doesn’t see what a wonderful person she is and they step on her feelings, and that makes me sad. I would love to be able to protect her from all the little hurts that life always brings, but I can’t, so all I can do at that point is to let her know that I love her and always will, and anyone who doesn’t see the super special girl that she is, is losing out, because with each passing day, she becomes more and more amazing, and I see more and more how greatly God has blessed me with this precious gift.
Children are like an unopened book. You don’t know what their lives will hold until they live them. You just know that there is so much promise…so much possibility. When they are little you look at them and you can see their whole life laying out in front of them, to do with as they choose. They can go anywhere and be anything they want to, if they put their mind to it.
Kids always seem to have a fascination with sunglasses, and every time I see a child in sunglasses, it reminds me of that song that goes like this, “the future’s so bright, I have to wear shades…” Though the child isn’t even thinking about the future, it makes me realize that at least for that moment in time, their future is bright. Their lives could, and probably will take some twists and turns along the way that we may not particularly like, but most kids turn out alright in the end.
Looking at that child in the sunglasses, trying to get them on right and straight, but ending up with them on upside down instead, you realize that they have so much to learn, and you have so much to teach them. It is a moment that can be very overwhelming. Sometimes, you wish they did come with an instruction manual, but as you travel the road from babyhood to toddler to adolescent to teenager to adult, while the trials are there, you find that you wouldn’t miss this trip for anything. Watching them grow into wonderful personalities that are often very different our own, or even anything we could imagine, is truly amazing.
Watching them go through the struggles of growing up, the mistakes, the heartbreaks, the hurts and pains…well, is not quite so much fun. They have to make their own way, and at first they aren’t very good at some of the things they try, but you have to let them try. You have 
to let them make their own choices and decisions about things like sports, and other school activities so they can begin to learn how to make those choices and many others.
It may not be fun to watch them go from the child who looks to you to handle their whole world, to the adult over whom you no longer have any true control or say in their world. You want to protect them from all the mistakes they are sure to make, but you can’t. You can only be there when they fall, to pick up the pieces and stand then back up on their feet and send them off to try again…and hopefully to succeed…and to find that the future’s so bright…
This past week, my family reconnected with my Aunt Ruth’s family. We had lost touch with them over the years, but a chance connection on Ancestry.com and one phone call were all it took to melt away the years, and now we are back in touch with them again. We have friended each other on Facebook, and looked over the pictures each of us has. I have seen the faces of children who look so much like their parents that it’s like they were looking in a mirror. That got me to thinking back on something I have know about myself almost all my life.
I too, look a lot like someone else in my family…my dad’s sister, my Aunt Ruth. I am built like her and my facial features are a lot like hers. Aunt Ruth and her family used to live here when I was a kid, and we got to see a lot of her and her family. She was a slender, tiny woman with delicate features, and dark wavy hair. But, the thing that is the easiest for me to remember, is her laugh…because it is mine. Often when I laugh, I sound so much like her that it brings her face to mind. It is one way to never forget your aunt, who passed away in 1992. She had a beautiful laugh. She could light up a room with it, and I guess that is why it is always with a mixture of sadness and happiness that her face comes to mind when I laugh.
My Aunt Ruth’s family used to live here in Casper, and we got to see their family a lot. My cousins, my sisters, and I got to see a lot of each other. Oh, the times we had. We would play 
out in the front yard for hours, or out in the yard at their house. It was great. Our lives were intertwined…the closeness of families…the love.
It’s always sad when families are separated by time and miles, and then by the passing of loved ones. I can only rejoice in the reconnection that has now taken place, and know the those who have gone before us would be very happy and proud. And I think of Aunt Ruth, and know that in Heaven she laughs often, so I will hear that laugh from her and not just from me, and since my dad and her son, Larry are both there too, along with parents and grandparents, I know they have had a great reunion too.
I spent last evening at my mom’s going through some of my dad’s things. We looked at his old report cards, and autograph book from his school days, a hat I had seen him wear in a picture when he was about 2, a New Testament Bible given to him in the service, his Army Air Force uniforms, and a some miscellaneous other things. It has been 3 1/2 years since my dad went home to be with the Lord. This was hard in many ways, but it was time to do it.
One of the most precious things we came across, was the letters my dad wrote home to his mom during World War II. It looks like she must have kept every one of them, and they are neatly tied together in a bundle, so they would be safe through the years. What a treasure!! Dad was always the kind of person who would give you the shirt off his back if you needed it. He talked to his mom about the money he sent home to the family every paycheck, and the fact that since he didn’t need much money, he was going to be buying a war bond each paycheck too, and would be sending that home to go toward a savings for his future. He said that he figured he could have a nice nest egg by the time he came home by doing that. Then he told his mom that if she found that she needed money, she was suppose to use those bonds, “even if she used them all, because he expected that there would be plenty of ways to make money after the war, if a fellow was willing to work” so he would be just fine. It was so important to him that his mom and family at home were ok. That is how my dad always was. He always put others first, especially his family, even if it meant working extra hours or a second job.
Dad tried to reassure his mom that he would come home safely. He spoke of the brand new plane, a brand new B-17 Bomber, that had been assigned to him and his crew. You could hear the excitement in the words he had written, as if he has spoken them to you himself. The plane flew “so smoothly” and “you can see why they call it the flying fortress” were the words he used to describe the new plane. He loved the beautiful new plane, but at the same time, he was well aware of what he was going to be flying into. He had hoped for a furlough before he was sent overseas, but it was not to be, and he didn’t know where he was to be stationed yet, but he didn’t want his mom to worry about it. He was flying off into an uncertain future, and not sure of his return, and yet his concern was for his mom and her feelings. That was just how he was. He assured her in a determined 
tone, that he would “return home in the same condition as he left” and would be protected in the plane that was built to be the “dread of the airways” during the war and because God would watch over him to bring him home; and so He did.
My dad would spend the rest of the war stationed in Great Ashfield, Suffolk, England, and would serve many successful missions in the plane that he was so pleased with. He would be decorated for his success in shooting down enemy planes and for successful air cover, including covering the storming of the beaches of Normandy on D-Day. He had many adventures during that time, but from his letters, it was clear that his heart was always yearning for home and his family.
There is a lot to be said for the way a little brother looks up to his big brother. I know my dad looked up to his brother, and as you can see, my cousin Denny thought the world of his brother, my cousin Gene. Gene was always a gentle soul, and at least whenever I saw him, a quiet man. His sons Tim and Shawn remind me of him in many ways. I suppose that with his brother, and his own boys, there were times when he could be rough and tumble and plenty noisy. And maybe, it is that I was quite a bit younger than he was, so he was almost more like a uncle, than a cousin. I always liked him very much.
From looking at these pictures, it is easy to see that Gene was pretty happy with his little brother too. That is pretty typical with brothers. And, also typical of brothers, I have been told these brothers would get into their share of mischief…like taking things apart and not being able to get them back together…something that seems pretty common with boys…much to the irritation of their mothers sometimes, but as most mothers of boys will tell you, it comes with the territory. And as I understand it, the practice of taking things apart and putting them back together, has moved on to at least one of Gene’s sons, Tim who likes to repair iphones that meet with an unfortunate mishap…probably a good skill to have, since the repairs would likely be expensive otherwise.
I think for a big brother who loves his little brother, the worst time of the day is nap time for the little brother. All you can think about is that you have no one to play with, and of course your mother has told you that you must be quiet so you don’t wake up the baby. 
So, you sit quietly beside your little brother, hoping that somehow he will hear your thoughts and wake up, so you can play. There is just a look in Gene’s eyes in this picture that shows me a mixture of love for his brother, and frustration that his brother is sleeping. I suppose the picture taking was a way to get his mind off of the situation that he disliked so much…having to sit quietly and wait. And while his brother obviously was too little to play, there is a type of play that a big brother can do that can be very satisfying for both children…making the baby laugh. It is something that is so pleasing to everyone…young and old alike, that even though babies can’t physically play, they can be very entertaining.
At the time my brother-in-law, Ron was dating his wife Rachel, we were in the midst of taking care of my mother-in-law, who has Alzheimer’s Disease. We needed every person in the family to help, and I was worried that we would lose Ron’s help if he was dating. I was wrong. Not only does Ron still come, but Rachel comes too, and along with the deal, if that an appropriate thing to call a marriage, we got Rachel’s daughter, Cassie and her husband Chris, and their new baby, Lucas, as well as Rachel’s two sweet little boys, Riley and Tucker. Looking back now, I wonder what I was worried about. In the last year, their first as a married couple, Rachel and her children have endeared themselves to every one of us. They belong to us now. They are family.
And to top it off, now that I have gotten to know Rachel better, I can see how sweet she really is. I couldn’t have asked for a better sister-in-law, if I special ordered her. She has a kind loving heart, and a very sweet spirit. I was so caught up in my own feelings about the caregiving situation, that I didn’t have time to get to know a wonderful girl. I am so glad that I changed that now, because I have been very blessed by Rachel. I didn’t realize how special she was and is, but Rachel has a way of getting into your heart. She is just very likeable. I suppose that is why my brother-in-law and my niece, Machelle, who introduced Ron to her best friend Rachel, love her so much.
Her daughter Cassie and son-in-law, Chris, just gave birth to a premature and very tiny, 2.7 pound, son, Lucas, who I have yet to meet, but already know so much about. He is a sweet little baby, who is a fighter. He is recovering from stomach surgery, and doing very well. And I know that he really doesn’t like to have his left foot in his blanket. Not sure about the right one yet…we will see. But what I do know is that he is deeply loved, by all of us, and we can’t wait to get him home.
And then there are the boys, Riley and Tucker. Riley is a little bit older, and tries to be somewhat more dignified, or maybe he just acts like the big brother he is. Tucker on the other hand, is a goofy little boy, who loves to laugh and has a cute little way of making everyone else laugh too. They are the perfect finishing touch on the wonderful addition that we got when Ron married Rachel. I love you all. I’m very glad you joined our family.
Everyone needs time to relax sometimes. Many times, the company picnic is not exactly the place for that relaxation, however, our company picnic today was an amazing way to relax. We are a small company, and the majority of the people who work there are my family members. That in itself is unusual, when you don’t own the business, but that is how it is at our office.
Jim owns the company, and I started working with him in 1996. Through the early years of our time together, it was just him and me. Through the years we added different people, who came and went. Then, my daughter, Amy would come to work with us in 2009, and Amy’s daughter, my granddaughter Shai in 2010. Her son, my grandson Caalab does maintenance around the building and helps Jim with odd jobs. When we decided to get a website, it would be my daughter, Corrie who build that site for us. So you can see that now, even though Jim owns the business, he is surrounded by family…mine, and since we are such good friends, we have informally adopted Jim and Julie, so I guess it is all family. The other people at our picnic, were my husband, Bob, my sons-in-law, Kevin and Travis, my other two grandsons Chris and Josh, Kenny, the person who had done all the construction on our building who is also a friend of Jim and Julie’s, and and another friend of theirs, Sondra.
As I said, ours is a small company, and that was the extent of our company picnic. Now, add to that the fact that it was held at Jim and Julie’s cabin, with the hummingbirds also in attendance, and you have the recipe for a lovely, relaxing time. The hummingbirds entertained us, and we all just sat around and relaxed. It was a day spent in the company of good friends, and it was very enjoyable. Jim took the kids for rides on his 4-wheeler, and they each had a wonderful ride. the rest of the adults sat and visited. After dinner, he finished the rides, and then sat down to visit with the rest of us. We would sit and enjoy the citronella lanterns well into the evening, finally saying good night at about 9:15pm. It was a lovely day. Thanks Jim and Julie.
My dad was always quite the kidder. He loved to joke around with his girls. He was also a bit of a history buff. He loved to travel, and in our many travels, his favorite thing was to stop at historical markers…especially the Oregon Trail. I’m pretty sure I have seen every marker for that one there is. Obviously, we didn’t have a good appreciation for some of his history information, like we should have, and might have today, but one historical fact that was of interest to all of my dad’s daughters was, Christopher Columbus. I’m pretty sure Christopher Columbus was my dad’s favorite historical character.
I can’t say for sure when this story got started, but I can tell you that I was pretty young. The way the story went is this. Dad would begin by telling us that according to historical records, Christopher Columbus sailed the ocean blue in 1492…and you all know the rest of the story, right? Well, not exactly. You see, the story continues like this. Dad would tell us, “In reality, Chris didn’t discover America.” We would say, “He didn’t?” Dad would answer, “Nope, I did, but I was a nice guy, so I let Chris take the credit for it.”
We probably believed this tall tale early on, but after a while, we just went along with the joke because Dad liked it…and so did we. I think he always thought the idea of sailing across the ocean back in those days, in search of a new route or a new world, would be an exciting venture. He always had the heart of an adventurer, a fact that blessed his whole family with the ability to see many places. Dad loved to take us there…wherever there might be this time.
And I think he always loved the idea of seeing beyond the normal range of vision…like a sailor looking out over the bow, or a mountain climber looking off across the mountain range from the top. It was a vision that would bless his whole family.
I think my dad might have been a lot like Christoper Columbus. I think they both had a way of looking at things that goes deeper than average. A way of being able to pull the extraordinary from the ordinary. Maybe it was fantasy, but I don’t think there is anything wrong with a little bit of that in life.
I had to take my father-in-law to the doctor today for a followup visit after a hand injury. With Alzheimer’s Disease, we cannot leave my mother-in-law home alone, so when we have an appointment where I can’t easily take both of them in, we have someone come in to stay with her. Since her sister, Margee retired, she has been able to come over and sit with her, and often she brings he granddaughter, Stasi along. Stasi enjoys coming for a visit, which is such a blessing.
Teenagers don’t often want to go visit the elderly, much less help out, but Stasi loves coming over to visit my in-laws, and even when I get back with my father-in-law, she is often not really ready to leave. She is always willing to help my father-in-law out, by doing whatever is needed. She has pulled weeds for him, a well as many odd jobs around their house. And this last week, when my niece Machelle was painting window frames, Stasi was right there to help her. Stasi is very simply a very sweet girl, and one who likes to be a blessing.
Stasi, her brother, and her Dad live with her grandmother, Margee, my mother-in-law’s sister. Stasi’s mom passed away in 1998. Stasi helps her grandmother, just like she does my in-laws. She shows a kindness toward others that would make her mother very proud of her. It is hard to lose a parent at any age, but when it is at such a young age, very often life goes on without really missing that parent, but Stasi has never forgotten. Perhaps it is because of grandparents and her dad to keep her in remembrance of what a special woman her mother was. Whatever it is, Stasi has never forgotten and strives to live a life that would make her mom proud of her.
As I said, Stasi often helps out her grandmother, who is on oxygen and has a hard time getting around. It is a monumental task for a young girl to take on, but as I am finding with Stasi, it is one that she does well with. And yet, she still takes pleasure is coming over to my in-law’s house, her great aunt and uncle, and help out with whatever they need. She is a wonderful young lady, as anyone who knows her will attest.
It takes a village to take care of the elderly at home, and the longer I am in this situation, the more I have learned to notice and appreciate those who happily and willingly give of their time, resources, and mostly themselves to make the later part of someone’s life be a little bit better. It is a gift that can never be repaid. How do you thank someone for their kindness and sacrifice in the service of others? You can’t. It is impossible. All you can do is hope that in some small way you have made them aware that you see their kindness and sacrifice…that it has not gone unnoticed…that while you can never repay, you most certainly do appreciate all they do.
