dad
My grand nephew, Topher, who is my niece Andrea’s son, is probably a lot like most little boys…into super heroes. They dream of being just like their favorite one. Topher is very into the Avengers, the Justice League, and my favorite, Superman. I think every boy dreams of being a super hero at some point in their lives. I suppose it is the goodness in those little boys that makes them want to rescue people in trouble…to fix whatever is wrong in the lives of loved ones and strangers alike.
Topher is the kind of kid who hates to let people down. He hates to have people upset with him, and he hates to be the reason anyone is sad…or even see people sad. He has a great big heart, and it gets broken when those around him are not happy. Topher likes everything in his world to be…happy. I can’t blame him for that. Wouldn’t it be lovely if we really could live in the Land of Perfect, where everyone is happy and all is well. The good news is that when you get around a kid like Topher, your world seems to take a turn toward the Land of Perfect…at least a little bit. It’s awfully hard to stay sad when you see a smiling, goofy, little face like Topher’s.
Topher is the kind of kid that little kids love to be around. He is very compassionate and caring, and because of his great sense of humor, little kids really Get a kick out of him. 
Of course, big kids do too. Topher’s big sister, Savannah is one of his favorite people in the world, as are his dad and mom. He has a serious sense of family, and feels very blessed to have the one he has. He also loves his dogs, because they are family too…especially to a little boy.
Topher is such a happy kid that he makes others around him happy too. Maybe that is why he likes super heroes so much. Super heroes save people from terrible situations, and Super-Topher saves people from sad moments and days. Does it get better than that? Today is Topher’s 8th birthday. I can’t believe that he is 8 already. Happy birthday Super-Topher!! Have a great day!! We love you!!
For a number of years some of my dad’s family worked in the lumber business like so many other people from the area near International Falls, Minnesota and northern Minnesota, North Dakota, and Wisconsin. Much of the lumber was then sent to the Sawmill and Paper mill in International Falls. The year was somewhere around 1912, and the equipment used was not like what is used in the lumber business of today. After the logs were dragged or “skidded” to the railroad, they were loaded on to the rail cars by a Yarder. A Yarder was a machine that traveled on railroads knows as “dummy lines” to the site where the logs were to be loaded. These machines appeared to be large and cumbersome, they were in reality, workhorses that could handle big jobs. Once the logs were hooked to the cables, the log could be skidded at a rate of 1000 feet per minute…making work around the machines, rather dangerous. Once the log was near the rail car, men and machines had to work together using cables and poles to load the logs onto the railroad car. Once again, this put the men in harm’s way. If a log slipped, it was very likely that it was going to hit someone, resulting in death or at the very least, serious injury.
I’m not sure what my dad’s family member’s jobs were in that industry, but that would have been around the time they were working in that industry. Logging has always been a dangerous industry to be in anyway, due to the large trees falling. You can’t always predict exactly where they are going to fall, although they know more about that these days than they used to. Still, the thought of a log being pulled from one point to another at the rate of 1,000 feet a minute and having someone in the way of that…makes me cringe!!
When I was watching some of the old home movies from Bob’s family, I saw that some of them were in that same industry for a time. There was a stark difference in the way trees 
were moved from place to place. The Harvester was able to go up into the area where the trees were being cut, and bring them down to the loader. The loader being on wheels, with a Diesel engine, was them able to lift the logs onto the trucks, without the need to “skid” them closer. No one needed to be around to work cables or anything else to get the logs on the truck. It made for a much safer situation for everyone concerned. Of course, every invention that we now had, came from a need seen by someone in the past, so I guess we have those loggers in the old days to thank for the safer conditions we now have. I’m just thankful that my ancestors lived through the time they spent in that industry.
Today marks the first time in my life that I don’t have a dad to celebrate Father’s Day with. After my dad passed away in 2007, I still had my father-in-law that we celebrated Father’s Day with. Nevertheless, it was very lonely, because I missed my dad. And yet, I was blessed in that I still had my father-in-law. Now, those days are over, and I feel very sad again. And when I think of how my sisters-in-law and brother-in law and my husband must be feeling, my heart aches for them, because this is their dad and they have never had to deal with those feelings before…the emptiness that only comes from the loss of a parent. I feel sad for my sisters too, because we know that the death of your parent is not something you ever get over. You simply have to go on with life…because time marches on.
Still, today is Father’s Day, and in our hearts we will all celebrate the men who were our dads. The fact that they live in Heaven now, in no way diminishes the blessing they were to us in their lifetimes. We were so very blessed to have them in our lives for those years that we had them. We were very blessed that they each lived to be over 83 years old…long lives each one. We were very blessed that each of them had sound minds right to the end. They gave us their wisdom through the last conversations we had with them. So many of the elderly have had their minds and memories 
stolen from them by dementia, so this was a blessing beyond measure for us, and one I wish everyone could have.
My dad and my father-in-law were both hard working men. Their families came first in all things. They would give you the shirt off their backs if you needed it, because they both walked in love. We were so blessed to have witnessed the kindness they showed to those around them. It sometimes amazes me just how very much alike they were in so many ways. How I came to be so blessed in that way…overwhelms me. I was blessed beyond measure by the two dads God placed in my life, and my heart acutely feels the pain of their passing to this day. I know that it will feel that way until I see them both again in Heaven…a day I look forward to with much anticipation. Happy Father’s Day in Heaven to my two dads. I love and miss you both very much.
I have always thought that my Aunt Virginia was glamorous. It wasn’t that she lead a rich type of life or was a model or anything, I just thought she could have been. She was always beautiful, and dressed in pretty clothes. Even in a simple pair of shorts, she managed to look glamorous. I guess that as a little girl, you could say I always kind of wanted to be just like my Aunt Virginia. Of course, little girls always have people they look up to, but we have to make our own lives.
Aunt Virginia is my mom’s older sister. She is the second born of my grandparents’ nine children. I’m sure that was a very big responsibility. In any family, the older kids help with the younger kids. That said, you can imagine the experience Aunt Virginia had when it came to babies, and little kids. She helped with seven younger siblings. I was also the second born, but I only helped with three younger sisters. Nevertheless, I had plenty of experience, and when it came time for me to have my own kids…well, lets just say I knew how to handle babies, as well as little kids. I’d been around it all my life.
As I said, Aunt Virginia was my mom’s older sister, and I’m sure she watched out for her whenever she could. As kids get older, their siblings become friends. That was also the case for my mom and my Aunt Virginia. In fact, they were such good friends, that it was Aunt Virginia who introduced my mom to my dad. Now, you might be thinking that was a 
very nice thing for her to do, and I would have to agree with you on that one. I mean, when you think about it, without my Aunt Virginia, where would my sisters and I be. I suppose you could say that my mother still would have had children, whether she married my dad or not, but those kids would not have been me or my sisters. I guess you could say that we very much owe our lives to Aunt Virginia.
Today is Aunt Virginia’s birthday. I can’t think of a better time to tell her thank you for introducing my parents, so we could be her nieces. I can’t think of a nicer way to become someone’s niece. Happy birthday Aunt Virginia!! I hope you have a wonderful day!! We love you very much!!
For a long time, I have been impressed with the abilities of Daniel, who is the son of my cousin, Tim and his wife, Sherrie. Much like his Grandpa, my cousin Gene, his Great Uncle Denny, and his dad, Daniel likes to build things. I don’t know what kind of builders his grandpa and uncle were, but I have heard that they took a clock apart, and…well, lets just say that their mom wasn’t too happy with them when they couldn’t get it back together. From what I have seen, Daniel doesn’t seem to fall into the category of unable to build things or put them back together. In fact, he seems to have the ability to build anything he wants too. His work includes towers, roller coasters, and even bird houses. Daniel can do it all.
Daniel comes by many of his skills and his curiosity naturally, since both of his parents work in areas of Atmospheric Research. I don’t know if Daniel is interested in going into the same fields as his parents, but it wouldn’t surprise me. He must hear a lot about their work every day, and as I see it, who wouldn’t be interested in atmospheric research. It sounds like very interesting work to me. Whatever Daniel decides to do as a career, my guess is that he will be very good at it, because he seems to put his all into everything he does. His work is meticulous. No, it isn’t perfect, but then he is still a boy. Imagine what he will be 
able to do when he gets older.
Recently, Daniel followed in his parents footsteps again, when he participated with them in his first Bolder Boulder 10K Race. Daniel’s parents have been in the race several times, so I’m sure Daniel saw that as the perfect new challenge. While his dad ran the race, Daniel and his mom walked it. I have no doubt that he will be running it in the future. Congratulations on your first race, Daniel. Today is Daniel’s 12th birthday. He has done a lot in his first 12 years, and I’m sure the next 12 years will be even better. Happy birthday Daniel!! Have a great day!!
For the past seven and a half years, my life has been largely defined by a series of responsibilities known as caregiving. For anyone who has ever been a caregiver, even for a short time, it is easy to understand what that entails, and what it means in the lives of those involved. Caregiving is not a job that usually becomes less demanding as time goes by, although that is not an impossibility. While caregiving is not an easy job, I can tell you from my personal experience that it is a very rewarding job. It is one that places you in a battle for life…or at least a battle to prolong life. While it is rarely a battle you can win in the end, you do win in that those final years are made more comfortable for the patient, and filled with the knowledge that you love that person so much that you are willing to make this sacrifice for them.
Now, after the passing of my dad, the recovery of my mom, the necessity of placing my mother-in-law in a nursing home, because Alzheimer’s Disease no longer allows her to stay at home, and the passing of my father-in-law, I find myself no longer in the position of being a full time caregiver. Yes, I still have minimal responsibilities with my mom and mother-in-law, like doctors appointments and visits with them, which are very important to their emotional well being, but the main responsibilities belong to others or are no longer necessary. So, I find myself wondering what do I do now that I am not a caregiver? What is life supposed to be like now? This has been who I was for so long. It was even all I talked about sometimes, as many of my family members can attest to.
A part of me is still very tired. At times during the day, I feel like I could sleep for a month, and yet, I have trouble getting to sleep at night. A part of me is ready to get back out on the trails…walking and breathing in the fresh air, and yet a part of me feels like I just want to sit and do nothing. Maybe it’s an emptiness because of no longer being needed as much as before. It seems like concentrating is very difficult…unless it’s about why we lost the battle for life, or what we might have done differently.
I know that I will get used to having more time again. And as with my dad’s passing, I will come to know that you don’t get over it…you just get on with it. I will get used to not being a caregiver, but I know too, that I will never be the same person I was before. I can’t be. I have seen too much…learned too 
much…felt too much…know too much, to ever be the same person I was before. I have experienced the adrenalin rush needed to hold myself together during life threatening illnesses reaching emergency levels, and making the decisions necessary to treat loved ones who can’t speak for themselves. I have held their very lives in my hands, and been responsible for trying to bring them back. And, I have lost that battle…twice. I will recover from caregiving and I will get on with it, but I will never be the same. I don’t think it is a bad thing, and I would not change any of it, except the loss of my dads, but while I would do it all again, I know that I have been forever changed by this experience.
For many years, I had lost contact with my cousin, Greg’s daughter, Stephanie. She was always such a sweet little girl, so it saddened me that most of the family didn’t get to know her as an adult. Then Facebook came along. I have been so blessed to re-connect with so many family members, near and far away. A while back Stephanie, who lives in South Carolina, talked her dad into getting a Facebook page so they could keep in touch better. It was that request that connected me with Greg, and subsequently with Stephanie and her husband, Michael. It is a reunion that I feel blessed to have been granted.
I have very much enjoyed getting to know Stephanie and Michael, who are both fun loving and easy going people. As with any new relationship, there was a…tense moment, when I thought we might be having a tiff, only to find out that like me, they enjoy a good debate, and simply don’t take offense at differences of opinion. Now those are my kind of people.
Stephanie and Michael have two wonderful children, Kathleen (Katie) and Michael III (Will), who are as cute as they can be, and the apple of their grandpa’s eye. His only wish would be that he could see them more often, but since he lives in Idaho and they are in South Carolina, that isn’t easy. Enter Facebook again…and so many people think Facebook is a waste of time. I just don’t agree, and I doubt Greg does either.
A while back, Michael went back to school to earn his degree. His family stood behind him in his journey, and as he said, “I love you and thank you for being there no matter what. Kathleen and Will thank yall for constantly reminding me that every thing isn’t always so serious and sometimes I just need to take a step back, make a silly face, and have a good laugh.” Good advise if you ask me, and it seems to have worked. Michael graduated from Trident Technical College on May 3, 2013.
It looks like this little family is on their way to amazingly good times ahead. And it’s not like the past was anything bad either. Today is Stephanie and Michael’s 10th Wedding Anniversary. Happy Anniversary to two wonderful people!! Have a great day, and may you have many more anniversaries in your future!!
Boys and machines, the two seem to just naturally go together. When their dads or grandpas use those machines, little boys become very intrigued, and since their dad or grandpa is the coolest guy they know, they want to be just like him. As soon as they can talk them into allowing it, those little boys are helping their dad or grandpa to do that all important work. Obviously, there are times when those little boys are less help than hindrance, but sometimes, as is the case with the Hydraulic Wood Splitter, those little boys can be very helpful.
When my nephew, Barry was a little boy, his grandpa, my father-in-law, had a very large woodpile. Much of the heat in the family home came from the wood burning stove. Splitting wood was a continuous project. Barry always looked up to his grandpa, and he wanted nothing more than to imitate his grandpa in every way. Barry willing worked side by side with his grandpa to supply the split wood 
needed for the wood stove. There was no place he would rather be. It was that way with most of the things Barry’s grandpa did. In the eyes of that little boy, his grandpa could do no wrong; and as far as he was concerned, there was nothing his grandpa couldn’t do, and really, isn’t that the way it should be.
Barry is grown now and, while he still splits wood with his uncles, Bob and Ron. They all run the splitter, if necessary, but whenever he is available, they have a new main operator. Tucker, Ron’s step-son, has taken a great interest in the wood splitter. Tucker likes helping his dad do just about anything he is doing, but running the wood splitter is by far his favorite work. Like most little boys, if it involves machinery, he’s there. And, like Barry, this next generation wood splitter will most likely continue to enjoy splitting wood for years to come.
So often, we don’t realize what our parents did for us until they are gone. It isn’t the big, notable things that hit us that way, but rather the subtle things they did. And when you think about it, you realize that it was the subtle things that mattered the most. My dad was the kind of person who held himself to a standard all his life. It was a standard that he imposed on himself. It involved things like kindness, decency, morality, and honesty. Dad was a gentleman, and you always knew he would be. You could count on it, even when you felt that it wasn’t warranted or deserved by the receiver. That’s just how Dad was. He chose to be kind and understanding even when the receiver should have been chewed out without mercy. I know this is all true, because I have been on the receiving end of his acts of kindness, and I have been told that I needed to act that way toward others…which wasn’t something that usually excited me much. It rubbed me the wrong way to give mercy for injustice, but through the years Dad’s lessons soaked in a little, and I think I do find it easier now to be forgiving, whether people deserve it or not. I can tell you, however, the journey to that place has not always been without a few rocky places in the road. Nevertheless, my dad mellowed my temper with his ways, and while I’m not as successful at the mercy for injustice thing, I try to follow his example to this day.
One thing about my dad that has always stayed in my head, and I’m quite certain that is because he had to pound it in there, is forgiveness. Dad was one to say that you should “never let the sun go down on your wrath” and he took that very literally. We were allowed to argue with each other pretty much to our hearts content, provided it didn’t get to the point of driving our parents insane. We were even allowed to argue, or as I called it, debate with our parents to a degree…one which my sisters will tell you, I took much further than they ever dared. No matter how the fight ended, you always knew that at some point Dad was going to come to you and say that you had to make up with your sister or mom. You didn’t have to say the other was right…just that you loved them too much to let those differences of opinion come between you and carry into the next day. And, Dad held himself to that same standard. It never failed. After he finally got done with my…debating…and finally told me that was enough…and I knew it was, too, he would still come to me after he had cooled down, and told me that he loved me and didn’t want us to “let the sun go down on our wrath” so we needed to make up. It was very comforting to know that no matter what you did, or how mad it made him, before the day was over, things would be ok again, and always before bedtime. That is something that has stayed with me all my life, although I can’t say that I have been as perfect at it as my dad was. It is a process, and you just have to work at it. No one is perfect at policing themselves all the time.
The lessons my dad taught to his girls, are what have formed us into the people we are today. And yes, my mom taught us many lessons over the years too that have stayed with us throughout our lives, but that is a story for another day. When I think of my dad, I see a soft spoken man, who never promoted himself, but rather lifted up those around him. He was a man who assured you that everything was going to be ok. You knew that no matter what the problem was, Dad would always love you. You couldn’t do anything bad enough to change that. To him, that was just being a dad. And that knowledge has made all the difference. If Dad were still with us, he would be 89 years old today. Happy birthday in Heaven Dad. While we miss you terribly, we are so thankful that we know where you are, and that you are having the time of your life. We will see you again someday. We love you more than words can ever express.
On the back of the violin is a name, Allen Spencer. I assumed that it was carved lovingly into the wood by my great great grandfather when he was young. I have no way of knowing just exactly when it was written, but it would seem like something a child would do. Grandpa was born in 1826, and died in 1883, and as near as I have been able to find, the violin might have been made in 1866, which would mean that my great great grandfather was 40 years old. No matter how old he was when he engraved his name into the violin, the length of time the violin has been in our family tells me that music to some degree has been in my family for several generations. That violin was handed down from my great great grandfather, to my great grandfather, William Malrose Spencer, to my grandfather, Allen Luther Spencer, to my Uncle William Malrose Spencer II, who passed it on to my dad, Allen Lewis Spencer, with the request that we keep it in our family. We have had several violinists in our family, my sister Allyn, and my daughter Corrie, to name two. The violin is in great condition, and has been well used throughout the years.
My grandfather, Allen, enjoyed jamming with his brother-in-law, Albert, who was playing the accordion. I can imagine that their jam session was a lively time, as those two instruments don’t usually go together. Nevertheless, when a couple of brothers get together and try to outdo each other in their play, and from what I have seen of these two brothers, they liked to joke around. They always seem to have a twinkle in their eyes in the pictures I’ve seen. I have a feeling that the brothers could be…maybe a little mischievious.
When we received the violin, it occurred to me that this was a pearl of great price, so to speak. Maybe the name engraved on the back reduces the value in the eyes of an antique dealer, but it only increases the value to us. So often you have very little that belonged to your great great grandfather…especially when he died 73 years before you were born. That is the real thing that gives it value to me and my family. This was something that my great great grandfather, great grandfather, grandfather, my uncle, and my dad all took pleasure in, and something my mom, my sisters, and our families will all take pleasure in for years to come…because it was my great great grandfather’s violin.
