girls
When our girls were little, Bob and I took them to Helena, Montana to visit he Aunt Marion’s family. Aunt Marion was Bob’s dad’s older sister. She and her husband John lived in Helena with their 8 children. Bob and I had not gone to see them since our marriage, and we were on our way to visit his mother’s grandmother, so we decided to take a couple of days to visit Aunt Marion and her family too. It was September and the weather can be unpredictable.
We were going to run a couple of errands, and the sky was clouding up. Aunt Marion suggested that we leave the girls at the house in case it rained. So we headed out to the store. We completed our shopping much more quickly without two babies to carry too, so we were thankful that Aunt Marion had offered, and of course, her kids were excited about having some time to play with their little cousins too. And our girls were having such a good time when we left, that we knew they would be fine with it.
Nevertheless, I had an uneasy feeling as the sky got more and more black and the clouds began to look menacing. As we finished up our errands and headed back to Aunt Marion’s house, the lightning and thunder began. The weather almost reminded me of tornado weather, and I definitely didn’t like that. As we pulled up to Aunt Marion’s house their was a flash of lightning directly in front of us. The lightning hit the power line in front of her house, and literally danced along the power line for several seconds. I had never seen anything like it. Now I had a new dilemma. To go into the house…under that power line, or to stay in the car and leave my babies 
in the house with that monstrous lightning storm threatening my girls. I knew it was unreasonable. The girls were in no danger, but I just couldn’t get past the obstacle that stood between me and my girls.
Of course, everything was fine in the house, and I was just being silly, but I can tell you this. Seeing lightning strike…in any of the dramatic forms that can take, is something that you never forget, and to this day I can still see it in my mind. That has been 35 years ago, and I have never seen lightning strike in front of me again, something I can honestly say I’m not sorry about, but I will never forget the day in Helena, Montana when I did.
When my girls were little, my sister-in-law and brother-in-law lived in Thermopolis. Their daughters, Machelle and Susan, and our daughters, Corrie and Amy, were friends, as well as cousins. It became a summer tradition to let the girls spend a couple of weeks together. Often we would make it a family day when we took our girls to Thermopolis for their cousin time trip. My mother and father-in-law often went along, so they could see their daughter, son-in-law and granddaughters. We would make it a family day, with a picnic in the park at Thermopolis, before we would head back home.
It was always odd to get back home to a house void of children, and know that they would be gone at least a week. Sure, we didn’t need a babysitter if we wanted to go out, but I still missed my girls. I suppose that was normal for a mom. Meanwhile my girls were having a great time.
I’m quite sure there were fights, because…well, that’s what kids do, but when you put 4 girls together, there is a lot of imagination and fun going on too. And of course, when you are in Thermopolis, there is also swimming going on, and what kid doesn’t like that idea. My sister-in-law and brother-in-law had passes to swim as often as their family wanted, so it was a good deal for them and the kids. That was one of the highlights of the time spent there for my girls. Swimming in the warm water of Thermopolis ia a treat for anyone.
The rest of the cousin time was spent with dolls and tea parties, and all the other fun things girls can think of to do, but it wasn’t so much what they were doing that mattered. It was that they were spending time together, staying connected with each other. It was something that was hard as they grew older, but I think that the time spent together when they were little, built a foundation that they have kept strong to this day. They have turned into wonderful women, all of whom I am very proud, and I’m very thankful that we gave them that cousin time when they were little.
58 years ago today, my parents were married in a simple ceremony at Trinity Lutheran Church, in Casper, Wyoming. It was the start of a beautiful and long life together. My dad was a friend of my mom’s family, and that is how she met him. She told me she saw my dad and thought, “Wow!!” I guess says it all. My mom had found her man. And my dad felt the same way. Dad never called my mom by her name, but always called her “Doll” instead.
My dad was her knight in shining armor, and my mom loved his southern gentleman ways. He always made her feel like a princess. In fact, that is how he was with all his girls. He was understanding and patient, even when we were screaming over a moth across the room, or the imaginary bear that might be just outside the dark camp spot, creating the serious need for another log on the fire in the middle of the night.
Mom and Dad were a team. They did pretty much everything together, especially after his retirement. The was simply no place they would rather be than with their spouse. It was a love that would last forever, and still very much continues today. My mom has never considered loving any other man.
Dad had shown her the world and all the beauty it can hold, and walked the path holding her hand on this journey we call life, her companion and best friend, her confidant and cheerleader. He was her biggest fan and she was his. The love they shared radiated from their eyes, and never dimmed, in all the years they spent together.
Yes, the last 3 anniversaries have been spent apart, but only physically, because they will be together forever again very soon. My mom looks forward to the time when she will see my dad again, but knows that it will be yet a little while, because she is still needed here. There is more for her to do before they are again, together forever. Happy anniversary Mom and Dad!! I love you both very much!!
When kids are little, all they want to do is be like their parents. Little girls want to wear their mothers heels and makeup, nail polish and dresses, and boys can’t wait to have feet as big as Daddy’s or be as tall or they want to use the same tools or play the same sports.
Kids are so cute when they are trying to be their parents, and wearing their shoes, or the shoes of some other adult. They clomp along, trying not to fall…in shoes that are several sizes too big. And when they do, they just laugh, get up, and totter away again. If they can manage to get up on their own with the shoes that they have on. Most of the time, it seems that they need help to get back up…especially in boots. We look at them and laugh, not just because it is so cute, but because it reminds us of ourselves when we were little. And of course, they are laughing too, possibly at the absolute hilarity of it all. They know how goofy it is and yet they seem to think that you might not realize that they know.
I also find it funny that every time kids put those shoes on, they put them on the wrong feet…every time!! Unless we help them, that is. How can that be? You would think that, at least part of the time they would get them on the right feet, but it seems never to happen. 
It’s like they plan it or something…maybe, just to be funny. Do kids ever get their shoes on the right feet? I think not, so why should it be different in their parents shoes?
I don’t know what is going through their minds, exactly, but I do know that it is common for them to want to copy the person or persons who have had such a big influence in their lives…at least so far. These are such fun years, and they are so quickly over. Before we know it these little ones are driving and dating and married and having babies, who then try to fill their parents shoes.
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!
It is amazing, how little girls can go from being tomboys to being very girly girls in a matter of moments. Little girls can have a love of the outdoors, and running around in bib overalls, chasing chickens or cats, riding bikes or horses, and then in the twinkling of an eye, they become a beautiful little lady in ribbons and lace.
Most times, of course, this transition takes place many times. Back and forth, our little girls try different styles and different fads…some we wish they hadn’t and some that make us cringe!! And that time between their grade school years and adulthood…well, sometimes we wish we could forget the clothes they wore or the hair, and especially the attitude.
Every so often, we would catch a glimpse of that little girl we knew was somewhere in there still, but as time went on, those glimpses were fewer and further in between. Still, we didn’t totally hate the girl we were seeing begin to emerge. Every so often, we could see the woman she would become, and we could tell that things were going to be ok. And then she would slip away again into some stranger that we didn’t know. I suppose it is just the nature of things. The journey from babyhood to adulthood. And along 
the way we keep a file in our minds of the precious little moments when we see the little girl we knew and love.
When you think about it, looking back at the toddler and grade school days, while that little tomboy of a girl was maybe not what you hoped for her to turn into, it didn’t seem like such a bad thing compared to some of the styles you have seen in the current years. The truth is that whatever she becomes, you will love her and be happy that she is in your life, because tomboy or girly girl…it makes no difference…she is your girl!! And she is beautiful!!
In 1984, when my girls were 9 and 8 years old, they were excited to be getting a new cousin. Back then, you didn’t get to know what the baby was, so we all just had to wait. My girls were just learning to crochet, and they wanted to make something for their new cousin. So, we decided on Corrie making a blanket, and Amy making a bonnet. They picked out the yarn, a variegated mix if pastel green, yellow, pink, and white, so it would work whether it was a boy or a girl.
The girls worked very hard on their little projects. I was quite proud of their dedication. As the time grew near for the baby to arrive, it was decided that the gifts would be a Christmas present, since the baby was due in early December, and they lived in Pueblo, Colorado, and would not be up to Casper until Christmastime.
On December 8, 1984, Jessica Lynn arrived. It was a day my girls were very excited about. They now knew who they were making their gifts for. It renewed their excitement about the gifts they were working on. With their excitement, my own grew. I could picture the surprised look on my sister and brother-in-law’s faces when they opened the gifts. Christmas couldn’t come fast enough that year.
Finally the long awaited day arrived. They could hardly contain themselves. When my sister opened the packages, everyone was thrilled, and my girls were so pleased. The bonnet looked so cute on Jessi, and the blanket was a perfect match. It was a wonderful ending to an exciting story. My girls had set a goal for themselves, and worked very hard to reach their goal. And reach it they did…beautifully!!
When my girls were very small, we took a family vacation to visit their great great grandmother in Washington state. The trip had been planned while their great great grandfather was still alive, but the visit with him wasn’t to be. He would pass away the month before we came to visit. I was always sorry that we didn’t get to visit him too. They had been down to visit us in July and we went up in September. It happened so fast. One day Grandpa was fine, the next he fell off a ladder and broke his hip. He went into shock and was gone.
We went anyway to visit grandma and I was always glad we did. She was an amazing woman. She was 89 years old that year and still lived at her own home…alone. She still cooked and kept house and enjoyed life. She would live to be 97 years old. She was so interesting. She told stories of her family and showed us a family tree that she had that was hand written and extensive.
Corrie was just learning to walk then and found a little chair at Great Great Grandma’s that she loved, because it was short enough for her little legs to crawl up on and sit all by herself. Grandma 
would also let her play with the pans in the kitchen. She pulled them out and had them all over the floor. I tried to stop her from making such a mess, but Grandma said to let her play. She was so patient.
We would go out and sit on her porch and look at the birds and the trees. Her home and yard were beautiful. Corrie, Amy, and I loved it. And she wanted to share it all with us…to pass on a piece of herself and Grandpa to our girls, Bob, and me. The beauty of a different time and place. Her home held the memories of the past and the promise of the future all in one place. I just wish I could have known her better.
My girls, like most kids had great cousins, but like most kids, there were good days and bad days. This applied to both sides of our family. Their relationships with their cousins have spanned 3 decades and have grown into beautiful friendships, despite the rocky starts.
Since I was the second child, my older sister’s children were the only cousins on that side for a long time. Her older daughters were always a source of goofy antics, while providing my girls with a little bit of a look at how the bigger kids acted, and what they did. Her son gave them a glimpse into what boys were like…quite a culture shock for my girls who were around mostly girls. Her younger girls were really the ones my girls played with, and also, where most of the fights occurred. There were fights of the real and imagined kind. Now many people might not know what an imagined fight is, but I know. It is when one child tells on another child for hitting them, when in reality no such event took place. I expect this type of fight happens more than we know. Thankfully, as time goes by, those same kids who fought like cats and dogs, and then turned right around and played until they dropped from exhaustion, grow up to become wonderful adults, who are the best of friends and the greatest allies for life.
On Bob’s side of the family, things were much the same. Great little friends, but also serious little fighters when they felt like their territory was being invaded. The would play together, quite happily, until someone had a toy or other item…such as the seat of an old tractor that Grandpa had, and the other one wanted. Such invasions of perceived territory, might get one socked in the nose…or even bitten. Because the kids were all so close in age, they each felt like they were the one in charge, and sometimes the only solution was to make them all come in and let them know that…none of them was in charge. We were!! Again, thankfully those years have passed and yet, the relationships survived.
There truly is nothing like family. It doesn’t matter what you agree or disagree on, you always love each other. You are friends forever, because you have grown up with all the 
secrets, adventures, and yes, fights that build the lives of children. You have survived the most embarrassing moments, the most horrible looks, and those awful fads that your parents still cringe about.
You are now adults with kids of your own. You have come full circle…and your kids are fighting with their cousins, wearing clothes and hair styles you hate, telling you that you don’t understand anything…basically after all those years of trying to be yourselves, you have become…your parents.
Since Bob and I bowled from the time Amy was two years old, it just naturally followed the our girls would bowl on a league as kids. They started bowling when they were 5 years old. At that time, the league they were on needed a coach, so since I was there all the time anyway, I was elected. I took a class for 3 hours on a Saturday morning, and the deal was sealed.
We had some interesting moments during those early years. Corrie, had been bowling about a year when Amy started, and of course, she was an expert. One day she was bowling and doing ok, when she went up for her turn and threw her ball. It went into the gutter before it even got to the dots, much less the arrows on the lane. But, that didn’t make any difference to Corrie. She turned around and put her hands on her hips, looked me square in the eye, and said, “That should have been a strike!!” Do you think she was around bowlers much? Corrie would learn what really should have been a strike as time went on, but we laughed about that first use of bowling terminology for quite some time.
Amy had a little bit different experience however. She was pretty little at 5 years old, and isn’t very big now, but that’s another story. Her bowling ball weighed 6 pounds. 
The combination of the light ball and the little girl made it difficult for her ball to do what a bowling ball should do. It would fall in the gutter half way down the lane, and stop. Someone would have to go get it and bring it back for another try. It was frustrating to her. One day, another coach who was helping, decided on the solution. He picked Amy up…ball and all, walked down the lane until she was about a foot in front of the pins, set her down and said, “Now hit ’em!” And she did. Amy would continue to struggle with the ball speed for some time, even having the pins stop the ball, but today she has made up for it. She throws one of the fastest bowling balls around.
