dad
My dad became ill on a trip back to his place of birth and the surrounding area. His plan, after a quick trip around Lake Superior, was to spend some quality time with his older brother, my Uncle Bill. Unfortunately, while Dad, Mom, and my sister, Cheryl were on the road to Thunder Bay, Ontario, Canada, they had stopped at the Terry Fox Monument and Dad was hit with a serious Pancreatitis attack. This illness and other complications would put Dad in the hospital for the next 4 months, and send him home very weak, and needing much care from his loving family before he would recover. Still, he would never be the same again…except mentally, of course. His body was never as strong, and he never drove again, and needed Intravenous Feeding, and oxygen off and on. These things together would make another trip to Wisconsin almost impossible, and he never went back.
Dad’s brother, my Uncle Bill was older than Dad was, and even less able to drive, but otherwise healthy. We knew that the only way they were ever going to see each other again, was for Uncle Bill to come here. Still, that was going to be a huge undertaking, and we didn’t know if it would ever happen. Enter, my cousin Bill. Bill contacted us and said that he planned to bring his family to see Yellowstone National Park, and he thought he would bring his dad, my Uncle Bill out to see his brother, my dad. We were very excited, especially my dad. The plan was for all of them to spend a day or so here, then Uncle Bill would stay with my parents while Bill and his family went on to Yellowstone for a time and then come back for a few days before leaving for home.
This was a blessing beyond measure for my dad and my Uncle Bill, and a wonderful gift for Bill and his family to give them. It was a pure act of love from Bill toward his dad and his uncle, my dad, and one that will never be forgotten. Bill has always been a sweet, thoughtful person, as anyone who knows him can attest to, and the love he has for his dad is very evident. I will never forget that visit, nor will I ever forget the fact the Bill made it possible for his dad and mine to see each other one last time before my dad passed away. Bill you are a great person and I am forever grateful for the wonderful gift you gave our dads. Happy birthday Bill!! We love you very much!!
I have been reading through some of my dad’s letters home to his family from World War II, and I find myself thinking about the secrets that had to be kept. During wartime, locations and mission cannot be spoken of, because it might, or more likely would, compromise the mission and the men involved. I’m sure it was hard for the men, when they couldn’t tell their families where they were, other than the country they were in. Still, they knew that what they were doing was bigger than they were, and they were a part of something greater than their own needs…and there were spies everywhere. Letters and calls could be intercepted, and if they were, missions could fail, and lives would be lost.
Mixed in with the necessity of secrecy, was the need to let family know you were ok. Remember, that most of these men were very young, and many had never been away from home before. Now on that first trip away from home, there are people trying to kill them. My dad had lived away from home before going into the Army Air Forces, but he was very loving and loyal toward his family. It was very important to him that they not worry about him. Dad was also an honorable man. He was a patriot. He would never do anything that would dishonor or put in danger his country, or the men he served with. I can imagine that these men all found themselves in a tough place at that time in the world’s history, but they did what they had to do, because they were a part of something greater than their own feelings, or those of their families.
My dad was the top turret gunner and the flight engineer on a B17 Bomber, stationed at Great Ashfield, Suffolk, England. It was a base in the middle of the English countryside, surrounded by civilian towns and farms. These people knew all too well how important the United States military presence was to their safety, and indeed their very lives. If one of those men had revealed information about their upcoming missions, the entire area could have been attacked and destroyed. So important was their mission over there, and so grateful were the people of that area, that memorials were erected to remember…forever, the sacrifice made by the brave men of the 385th Heavy Bombardment Group, U.S. Army Air Forces. The memorials were placed so that generation, and future generations would remember the sacrifices made to save their lives by men who were a part of something greater than their own lives…to protect the lives of people they didn’t 
even know. That is what my dad was a part of when he was barely more than a teenager.
Those years changed who my dad was, just like they changed the lives of all the men who lived through that turbulent time in the history of the world. Those were hard times for everyone, and yet my dad and the other young men he served with, played their very important part with dignity and honor, placing the lives of innocent civilians ahead of their own lives, because they were a part of something greater.
One of the first ways we learn of love is the hug. As babies, that closeness to people is something we crave…especially our mom, dad, and grandparents. It makes us feel secure. I remember when my girls were little, and holding them, especially for the first time. The love I felt for my daughters was incredible. It was such a awe inspiring experience. To know that this little person was mine…to nurture and care for…to train and encourage…to love and cherish…well, there is really no way to accurately explain that feeling.
Becoming a grandmother brought back that feeling…or as close to it as it is possible to be. Being there for the births of my grandchildren…seeing them for the very first time…well, I found myself holding my breath in anticipation of their arrival. Their births brought about feelings that I will never forget. An incredible feeling of love and amazement. Holding my grandchildren and cuddling them, feeling incredibly blessed with the new life that was given to us, almost brought tears to my eyes.
There is no greater feeling that the addition of a new life given. Each one is a miracle in itself. It is hard not to be…almost surprised by it. I will always remember and cherish the births of my grandchildren, which I was so privileged to see. How do you thank your child for the wonderful gift of a grandchild…even more, how do you ever thank God for it? There is, of course no possible way. All you can do is enjoy the wonderful blessing that you have received. I know that I’m probably rambling along, but sometimes the feelings are so strong that it is impossible to get them straight in my head.
I have been blessed by grandchildren who love spending time with me. They stay the night and invite me to their sporting events. My granddaughter works with me and my grandsons come and mow our lawn. They text me and call me just to talk. We are friends on Facebook and good friends in general. What more could a grandma ask for. And the 
good news is that my girls are my good friends in all of the same ways as the grandkids…well, except for spending the night, Ha Ha Ha!!
If someone were to say to me, “What would you want, if you could have anything?” I would struggle for an answer, because there would be nothing to wish for…other than maybe more time to spend with those I love…my wonderful family!!
If he was still alive, my dad would have been 88 years old today. He lived such an interesting life…experienced so many things. As a young boy, he and his brother shot off dynamite and rode trains around the Wisconsin area because his dad worked for the railroad. When he was older, he worked at Douglas Aircraft Company building airplanes. During World War II, he was a top turret gunner and the flight engineer on a B17 Bomber. He traveled the United States and parts of the world. And he took his family along on as much of it as he could.
We were so blessed to have Dad as our family leader. He somehow made everything alright. From the scariest situations to our fear of moths. From our concerns over imaginary bears in the campground to the very real spider that always seems to show up on occasion. Dad was an amazing problem solver. It didn’t matter what problem we had, from the simplest to the most serious, 
he would find a solution. He was so understanding.
Dad loved to tease his girls, and he had many funny little sayings that always made us laugh. I can still hear him saying some of the things we all remember well. They were always designed to make us laugh. He was quite a joker. And he always managed to act shocked when we would tease back. There are times that I can hear his voice so clearly…almost as if he is standing next to me. And I can see the looks on his face when he was acting like we were abusive, when we flicked him with our finger…never mind the fact that it did not hurt and often, he flicked us first. He was just goofy.
Dad was forever in love with Mom, and always showed her just how much she meant to 
him. He treated her like a princess. He was one of the last of the true gentlemen left here on Earth. A man who set a high standard for himself. There were words that he never said, because he wanted to set a good example. He was a Christian and he made sure his family was too. We all grew up knowing our Lord.
My dad was the most wonderful dad that ever existed. I am so thankful that he was my dad. I will miss him for the rest of my life, but I know that there will come a day when we are all together again for eternity, and for that I am grateful. Happy birthday in Heaven Daddy!! I love you very much!!
When my mom married my dad, they moved from Casper, Wyoming to Superior, Wisconsin. My mom was young, and really unprepared for the loneliness she was going to feel by being so far away from her parents and their big family. My mom was the middle child in a family of 9 children, so she was used to having lots of people around her…sisters to talk to and do things with, and brothers to tease her and yet do the nicest things for her. It was all very new to her…being married, and yet very scary…being so very much on her own.
When she arrived in Superior, Wisconsin…as happy as she was, being married to my dad, she was still wondering if she would be able to make it in this new place, without her family. Then she met her new sister-in-law…my Aunt Doris. Mom tells me that Aunt Doris saved her, in many ways. She was a new friend when my mom really needed one, and they became great friends…friends for life…even after my Aunt Doris and my Uncle Bill, who is my dad’s brother, divorced.
Mom has told me many stories about the many escapades that she and my Aunt Doris went on. One of the funny things mom has told me about is the fact that they were always dieting…even though they weren’t really very heavy, and didn’t stick to their diets very long. I guess they thought that if they did it together, they would stick with it, and there are many people who feel that way today, although that is not particularly something that I ever found helpful. They tried several things including crackers with ketchup and warm water.
Mom also saw the funnier side of my aunt. When Aunt Doris got her dirver’s license, she was driving out to meet Uncle Bill at their cabin, and she was stopped by a police officer, who informed her that she was speeding. He asked her for her license, and then had to 
step away from the car for a moment. Without giving him her license, Aunt Doris just left and drove on to the cabin. When she told Uncle Bill about the stop, he asked to see the ticket. She said, “What ticket?” He said, “The ticket he gave you.” She said, “He didn’t give me a ticket. He stepped away from the car, so I just left.” Apparently, Aunt Doris thought he had decided to just forget it. Uncle Bill freaked out, thinking that the cops were going to come and arrest his wife. But the cop must have thought the whole thing was very funny, because he never came after her…a fact that I’m sure my Uncle Bill was very surprised about. Another case of a woman getting out of a traffic ticket, but the most unusual way out of a ticket I’ve ever heard of.
My dad always loved trains. As a young boy, whose dad worked for the Great Northern Railway Company, dad had a pass to ride the train where ever he needed to go. I’m sure that his love for trains was fueled by the fact that he got to ride the train daily, a privilege that most people don’t have.
Dad has told us of his days of riding the train, and it always sounded to us like he was hopping the train, not riding with a pass. He never said “hopping a train” or anything, but we always thought that was what he meant. Maybe we thought that because it always sounded like such an amazing adventure. Or maybe he and his brother did “hop the train” on occasion, just to add to the excitement…something I’m sure his mother would have tanned their hides for.
Years later, when traveling to the Black Hills, my parents rode the 1880 Train in Keystone, South Dakota. It had been many years since Dad had been able to ride a train much, so it was very exciting for him, and it brought back those old memories of his days of riding the trains back in Wisconsin. They really enjoyed those train rides through the Black Hills.
When the Amtrak Trains came on the scene, I think my dad’s interest really peaked. He began thinking about taking a trip on the Amtrak. It would be a dream trip for Dad and Mom. They planned to ride the Amtrak Train up the California coast. The trip was to take several days, and they would sleep on the train. That would be a new experience for both of them, as all their other train rides were just day trips or less.
My dad was so excited about this trip. He was like a little kid in a candy store. I think that is how a lot of people feel when riding a train…like being a kid again. The wonder of something so new to them. And while riding a train wasn’t new to my dad, traveling that 
way was. He had always traveled by car. Mostly because he believed that you couldn’t see the country from a plane. But, this was different. They were able to view the countryside and it went by, and he didn’t have to drive. He felt like he was taking the trip of a lifetime. They were finally taking the ultimate train ride.
They had such a great time riding the Amtrak. It would be a trip that would live in their memories for the rest of their lives. They had taken many vacations, and all of them were filled with great memories, but there are always a few of your trips that live in your memory as the big trip, the best trip…the ultimate trip.
I grew up in an age when people spanked their kids. In fact, I can’t think of one friend who never had a spanking. And my mother could discipline with the best of them. I just don’t think she liked it much. Oh, she could get in there and scream as well as anyone, and she wasn’t a push-over by any stretch of the imagination. But, in reality, I don’t think that she really liked all the screaming and arguing that went on in a house full of girls. You see, my dad was the only man, or boy in the house for all of our young years. Counting mom, it was 6 to 1.
Raising 5 girls with all of the emotions that can go on with 5 drama queens, I can’t help but wonder how she managed to keep her sanity. Part of her way was to tell us, “Just wait until your dad gets home!!” And it was a threat that would bring fear to our hearts, although I don’t exactly know why. My dad had a way of working out a situation without the need for a spanking, much of the time. Mom’s big threat was all the trouble we were going to be in when dad got home, and believe me, if you deserved it, you got it…big time, but if it could be worked out without a spanking, dad could do it. He really didn’t spank us much, we just knew that if he did…boy were we going to wish he hadn’t had to.
Mom’s way, on the other hand…whenever possible anyway, was to spread the sunshine and smiles. I remember that even if we had all been screaming and fighting, when all was said and done, Mom would sing some song like, “Let a smile be your umbrella, on a rainy, rainy day.” Or she might sing, “Keep on the sunny side, always on the sunny side, keep on the sunny side of life.” Anything to stop the fighting and hopefully put a little cheer back into the house. Mom always hated the fighting that could go on in a house full of girls with very different points of view…and believe me, we could go at it. So much so that sometimes Mom would just decide that if fighting was what we wanted to do, we were going to do it!! Have you ever tried to fight on demand? It has a way of making you feel 
really ridiculous. At some point, you give up and end up laughing about the whole thing. I guess she was a pretty wise woman.
Mom always wanted her kids to be happy. She wanted our lives to be…just a little bit like living in Perfect. And while she knew that there was no real place like Perfect, she knew that her words and songs could add a little sunshine to our lives, so that has always been her goal. To this day, whenever we seem down in the dumps, or life is filled with stress, we can count on Mom to tell us, “Keep on the sunny side!!” That is just how she is. it’s who she is…the Keeper of the Sunshine!!
When my mom first saw my dad, she tells me that her heart skipped a beat, and she thought, “Whew, what a handsome man!” My dad must have had similar thoughts because that began a lifelong marriage. They lived happily ever after. That might sound like the whole story, but it is only the beginning. From the moment they had their first date, my dad treated my mom like a princess. He planned to win her love and then spend the rest of his life loving her and giving her everything he could. That was a dream that would never change.
As the years went by, and their 5 daughters arrived, the love multiplied. Our family was always close…it was planned that way by my parents. When they married, it was forever. Their love would always be put first. They always treated each other like royalty. To them, their spouse was the most important person in the world…and their children a close second. Theirs was a match made in heaven.
I never saw my mom happier than when she was with my dad. Her eyes sparkled and her smile was brighter. Dad had a way of making her feel prettier…a condition that comes from being treated like a princess. And truly when he was around, she glowed. Could love possibly be stronger than that. There is just something about spending your life around a person who has the ability to make you feel better about yourself, that gives life a greater meaning. And my dad had that ability…with all his girls. He made you feel like you could be more, do more…like you were more than you thought.
Whenever any of us had a problem, Dad always had a way of working it out, and that is how he always was. I could see that in his letters to his family during World War II, and he carried that same ability with him throughout his entire life. I suppose it was that ability 
that always made him seem like a knight in shining armor to my mom. She always knew that Dad would work out any problem they might encounter. Don’t get me wrong, mom was quite capable too, but Dad always had a plan…no matter what the problem.
I have been around many married couples, but none that were ever quite like my parents. Theirs was a love that was unmatched. Sometimes love is like that. They fell in love at first sight and loved forever after that day. How blessed their lives were, and how blessed were the lives of their children and grandchildren.
When Weston was a little boy, his mom, my niece, Machelle worked at Taco Bell. Weston really liked the fact that his mom worked there, because that meant he got to go there often. And going to Taco Bell was cool in several ways, but mostly because he got toys. Now that may not seem like such a big deal to most of us, but to a 4 year old boy, toys are the best part. There is just something about getting toys that is so exciting to a little kid. Even a cheap toy is like getting a birthday or Christmas present.
One day, Machelle had gone down to the Pamida store and Weston stayed home with his daddy, Machelle’s husband Steve. Weston was playing in the yard, and Steve had stepped into the house for a minute. Weston had been thinking about those great toys at the Taco Bell, and he knew that if his mom were there, she would take him down there to get one, but she wasn’t there. So, Weston decided to take matters into his own hands.
Weston had wheels, so why wait? He opened the gate and headed off on his tricycle to Taco Bell. He had been there many times, and he knew the way. It is amazing how well those little kids know directions to places they especially like to go…like a favorite restaurant. They are always watching when they are in the car…just to see if they might, just might be going to that favorite place.
So began Weston’s adventure. He peddled his way down the street…quickly, because he really wanted that toy. On the way there, Weston only stopped once, because he was, after all, a boy on a mission. Still, a little white kitten had the ability to bring his trip to a halt, just for a minute, because that kitty was just so cute, and he really needed to be petted for a minute. After that, Weston was back on his way to Taco Bell.
Weston’s dad, meanwhile had come back to the yard, and found his precious little boy missing. In a serious panic, Steve went looking for his little boy. He first checked the one place he assumed Weston would go…his grandma’s house. So he headed over there, only to find that Weston had not been there. Not sure what to do next, he headed back home to see if Weston had returned. When he got there, he found the police at his house…not the best greeting…until he saw Weston.
With a great sigh of relief, he gathered up his son, and waited to hear what had happened. As it turned out, a police car came upon Weston, happily riding his tricycle on the 4 lane highway that runs through the small town. When Weston’s adventure came it’s untimely end, he was only 4 blocks from his destination, and was not at all lost…just disappointed. Today is Weston’s 12th birthday. Happy birthday Weston! We love you!
Sometimes, when I look at some of the pictures of my dad and my Uncle Bill, and think about all their antics, I find that they remind me quite a bit of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn. They were always getting into trouble…oh not the kind that was really bad, just the kind that was a little bad. And of course, their favorite thing to do was to go fishing…or anything else that involved the water and no school. They were always trying some new thing…some new invention…or some new gimmick. Just like Mark Twain’s characters.
I can totally see my dad and uncle as two more characters in those novels. They would fit right in. I’m not sure the story lines would even have to be altered…except to add to more kids. Dad and Uncle Bill used to do things like setting off dynamite on Independence Day…not firecrackers…no, that was too small scale…they set off dynamite. Or they might set of dynamite on the top of the gate post…just to see what would happen. Of course, then they had to take out and reset the gate post before their mom got home from town, because she would have tanned their hides for them.
Don’t get me wrong. they had to work hard, as did their sisters, but if there was a way to get out of the work, or to find some shortcut, you can be sure that the brothers were right there. My guess is that as little boys, they were a handful for their mom. I’m quite sure that my grandmother would have done anything for her kids, but I think her boys might have been hard to reign in sometimes. But still, they were loyal to her and mostly helpful.
I guess you would have to say that they were…adventurous, and that is the part of those boys that reminds me of Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn. Their adventures are what got them into trouble, and yet, their adventurous spirit is what made you love them in spite of their crazy antics. That is the kind of boys they were. And when Uncle Bill came out here to visit my dad before his passing, you could still see the twinkle in their eyes when they talked about the things they used to do. It was pretty funny. In my mind, I could just see my grandmother, on her way home from town…wondering what her mischievous boys had been up to all day, and what messes she was going to come home to. I’m also quite sure that more often than not, she came home to some mess that needed to be cleaned up…and a couple of boys who needed a good spanking…even if they didn’t mean to make the mess. I can also see her dealing with the dilemma of should I spank them…or just laugh about the whole thing.
