grandma
As we travel to Newport, Washington to attend my Uncle Jim’s funeral, we had the opportunity to get together with my cousins, George and Greg. We all had such a great time. We laughed about old times, especially times with our grandparents. Greg told us about the time he told Grandma that he had outgrown her ability to swat him, Elmer, and Forest with the broom. Of course, Grandma proved just how wrong he was, by promptly chasing him down and swatting him again. Grandma was 5 feet tall…in her tall days…so in all of Greg’s 6 feet plus, I’m sure he was quite shocked at her ability to handle him in his all grown up and tough teen aged years. We all had the opportunity to find out just how feisty our grandmother was, because like any kid, we all got into a certain amount of mischief and back talked with the best of them. I have never forgotten my own run ins with Grandma, and often look back and smile about them. Of course, it’s easy to smile about those days now that I’m not getting that spanking.
George told us about the time that Grandpa took him deer hunting, and his disappointment 
that it was not the all day trip he had hoped. George was surprised that Grandpa knew exactly where to find the deer, and unfortunately, that place was not in the mountains, which is where George loves to be, and Grandpa simply didn’t. In the end, they went to the plains and had their deer before noon. I’m sure George had pictured an all day adventure, hiking through the trees on a quest for the perfect buck. When it ended up being a simple matter of point and shoot, and the drive took longer than the actual hunting part of the trip, his boyhood dreams of adventure and the thrill of the hunt, were dashed. I could picture this little boy, with a picture in his head of being almost on safari, and then the disappointment of the whole thing being very boring and simple, and I felt sad for that little boy who was now my grown up cousin, because I could tell that the adventure had been very important to him at that time in his life, and Grandpa just didn’t realize it, and for his part, I believe George found himself in awe of the fact that Grandpa 
knew exactly what he was doing…even though in George’s mind, he was old and couldn’t possibly know what was going on in these modern days.
Our visit ended far too soon for all of us and I found myself wishing that we lived closer together so we could re-live those old memories more often. I love my cousins, and I don’t like the way we have all drifted apart. Time changes so many things, and in many ways it makes me sad that so much time has past. Once again, I find myself thankful for Facebook and the ability we now have to stay in touch over the miles. It has brought several branches of my family closer together.
When my niece, Jenny was a little girl, she loved to dance and do gymnastics. She was a natural talent. Most people have a hard time with the splits, much less behind able to do the straddle splits, but Jenny took after her grandmother, my mom in that straddle split ability. As much as I loved gymnastics, the straddle splits, and pretty much the splits in general were simply beyond me. I could do the rest, but splits of any kind just hurt. Not Jenny, she was amazing.
Another thing Jenny has always been great at is dancing. She 
danced through her childhood and into her teens. When we had a teen dance club here, she and my daughter, Amy liked to go and dance there. But going out dancing isn’t the only way Jenny likes to dance. She likes to work out, and one of the ways she has done that is Zumba dancing. Zumba dancing is something I want to master, but so far, I think I have two left feet, so that will take a good deal of practice. Again, Jenny is a natural.
Another type of dancing that Jenny has taken up is belly dancing. She creates her own 
costumes, and they are beautiful. She is so graceful and beautiful. Being able to move like that takes a great deal of talent, and hours of practice. And yet, she also finds time to be a great mom to her three boys and now to her little girl. I’m sure that before long, Jenny and her daughter, Aleesia will be taking these classes together and quite likely Aleesia will follow in her mother’s dance steps and become a great dancer too. I’m sure that will be a wonderful thing for the two of them to share for years to come, because, once a dancer…always a dancer. Today is Jenny’s birthday. Happy birthday Jenny!! Have a great day!! We love you!!
Most people think of Ground Hog’s Day on February 2nd, but in our family, it is more than that. Today is Bob’s grandmother’s birthday. She would have been 104 years old, if she were still alive. She always liked the idea of being born on Ground Hog’s Day, and I think most people born on a holiday do feel like that is a special thing. For Grandma, finding out if Spring was coming early this year, and turning another year older were part of the same thought…almost like getting one more present. Everyone feels like their own birthday is the most special day of the year. I know I have always loved my day. I like the name of the month, the day of the month, and even the year I was born, but to the world, there is nothing special about my birthday, because I was not born on a holiday. To the world it is just another day, but when you are born on a holiday, it’s almost like everyone acknowledges it…or at the very least remembers it, like all of us have done with Grandma’s birthday.
This year, Grandma would have received the happy news that Punxsutawney Phil did not see his shadow, so Spring will come early. That would have been happy news to Grandma, who as I recall, didn’t care for Winter any more than I do. Grandma was always such a happy person, and I can just see a little spring in her step, and maybe a little brighter smile, at the though of the coming Spring. She always had a garden, and loved to be out there in the sunshine picking vegetables for canning. Of course, that was in the Summer, but Spring is for planting, and anticipating the coming harvest, which is what Grandma was most likely thinking about.
I wish we would have been able to see Grandma more through the 
years, but she lived in Montana, and we live in Wyoming. Not too far for our yearly visit, but too far for visits that came much more often, and a visit on her birthday was difficult to plan because of the weather concerns. Still, she knew we loved her and wanted to come, because we did so almost every year from the time Bob and I married to her passing. I miss those visits to Grandma’s house, and the peaceful days that those visits meant. It was a special time in our lives, and a time I will never forget. Happy birthday in Heaven, Grandma!! We love and miss you very much.
Bob’s great grandfather was a single dad for much of his children’s young lives. He worked on the Northern Pacific Railroad as a yard clerk. It was a time in their lives when everyone had to pitch in. The kids, Bob’s grandmother, Vina, and her brother, Kirby had to get things done around the house, because their dad worked long hours at work. Those were different times. Kids at home doing their chores were much safer than they were in this day and age. The two of them knew that they needed to get the house cleaned and supper on the table by the time their dad got home…not because they were afraid of him…because they knew how tired he would be. Grandma spoke so highly of her dad, that I know she felt nothing but love and respect for him.
His occupation was a hard one, but it had its perks too. When his vacation time came around, their travel plans often included a train ride to somewhere. I can imagine how much fun that must have been. Not many kids in those days got to do a lot of traveling, and unless your dad worked on the railroad, or you had a lot of money, you probably didn’t get to ride on a train much either. I don’t know where all they got to go, but since I like riding trains myself, I can totally picture how excited they must have been every time they set out on a new adventure. I can imagine trips back east to visit family members who might have lived back there, or down south, maybe to see the Gulf of Mexico. So many places they might have gone…so many things they might have seen.
I have ridden a train for short distances, but never on a long trip. I can tell you that it is an exciting ride, and one I never get tired of, so I expect that Grandma and Kirby were thrilled every time they got on board. I think it would be so exciting to eat and sleep on the train…especially as young children, who already see life as one big adventure.
I wish I had been able to meet Great Grandpa Leary, but he was gone six years before I was born, and of course, years before I became a part of the family by marrying Bob, and so much too late to meet this man whose daughter always spoke so highly of him. I think he must have been quite a guy.
For years, my son-in-law, Travis liked to play a game with his wife, my daughter Amy and their kids. They got pretty good at the game as well. I don’t really know how it got started, but I always seemed to be the sucker who fell for the whole thing. The way it is played is this. The person who randomly decides to play, simply makes the ok sign with their hand, and then says your name. When you look at the ok sign, it is as if you had flinched. At first Shai and Caalab weren’t very good at it, and they got the good ole double punch in the shoulder, but after a few of those, they decided to figure this thing out. I don’t know how often they managed to catch their dad on it, but my guess is that it wasn’t much…Travis is really good at it.
Their grandma…was another story. I think I must have been their best practice session provider. It wasn’t my fault really, because I mean…after all, your grandma is supposed to pay attention to you when you are talking, and look at the things you show her. I mean that is understood, isn’t it? Whether that is how it is supposed to go or not…that is how it went with me. Call me gullible if you want. They caught me 90% of the time…at least!! And I wasn’t trying to be nice and let them either, it’s just that when my grandchildren ask me to look at something, or even just call my name, I have a hard time thinking they have diabolical plans for me…again, call me gullible.
The kids had a great time with the flinching game, for a number of years, but as with any of these types of games, you outgrow them after a while…at least for now anyway. If I know my grandchildren, this particular game could be resurrected at any give point, if one of them decided that they could get away with putting one over on grandma again. To avoid these surprise attacks, I would need to be alert and vigilant. I would need to avoid being too trusting. Right…that’s gonna happen!!
Christmas Eve in 1927 was a special Christmas Eve…at least to my mom’s soon to be large family. That was the day her parents were married. What started with two young people is love, has grown in those 85 years to a family of more than 300 people. There are new babies being born all the time. I know that if Grandma and Grandpa could see their family now, they would be very pleased, but I don’t suppose they would necessarily be surprised. They were surprised at one time, however…or at least in awe.
I recall their 50th wedding anniversary in 1977. By that time I was married and had two daughters, so I was one of those who were growing the family. It was a wonderful party. Our family has a family Christmas party every year, but this one was very special. We were celebrating the patriarchs of the family…the ones who, at least in our remembrance, started it all. Grandma and Grandpa looked great. They were so happy, but then that was nothing 
new. They had been happy all their lives together. They celebrated life and the joy of living every day of their lives together. Singing could often be heard in their home, as well as the continuing laughter of the little children and grandchildren that loved to spend time in their home.
At that special party in 1977, I recall Grandpa and Grandma’s glowing faces, as they looked at each other. You could tell that theirs was an everlasting love…a love that grew bigger with each passing year, and each additional member. They were so happy and they felt so blessed. Their marriage had been such a happy 
one, and their family had grown to such an amazing size, seemingly overnight. The conversation turned to the size of the family, and Grandpa looked at Grandma and said, “Mommy, look what we started!” He was amazed on that day at the bigness of the family, because when you think about it, who really expects or thinks about how big their family will be, when they are a young couple just starting out. Yes, Grandpa was right. They had started something great on that special Christmas Eve 85 years ago today.
Bob and I grew up during the hippy years of the mid-1970’s. All the guys wanted to have long hair. Bob’s hair was, by no means, as long as many other guys had, but it was quite a bit longer than he had while he was living at home. Like most parents, he was told to keep it short, while he was living at home. So when he graduated, he moved into his own place, and grew his hair longer…much to the irritation of his mom. I met Bob about 6 months after he had moved out on his own, so his hair was already longer.
Bob and his family had always had a great relationship with their family who lived in Forsyth, Montana, which is where Bob’s family came from. The family would go up there to visit at least once a year, and Bob didn’t change that tradition when he moved out. His uncles weren’t so much older than he was that they really seemed like uncles exactly, so he got along with them very well. After Bob moved out, he would go to Forsyth just to hang out with uncles, and visit his grandma. Eddie, at 11 years older and Butch, at 9 years older were, nevertheless, the older generation. When Bob was 19, Eddie was 30, and Butch was 28. They pretty much sided with Bob’s parents when it came to the length of a man’s hair.
The older generation took great pleasure in teasing Bob about his hair. I’m sure that he heard things like “you look like a girl” or “shaggy dog.” I’m also sure he was repeatedly told to get a hair cut. Of course, like most kids in the hippy generation, those comments had no real effect on him. Nevertheless, I’m sure Eddie got Bob’s attention when he decided to tell Bob, “We can fix that right now!!” Then, he proceeded to attack Bob, or rather, Bob’s hair with an unplugged electric hair trimmer. Eddie would never really cut Bob’s hair, and I’m pretty sure Bob knew that too, but in the moment, maybe he wondered just a little bit, while genuinely hoping that the trimmer wasn’t plugged in.
Most babies have a tendency to grab anything that gets near them, especially long hair. My grandson, Caalab was not an exception in that, except for the fact that he never pulled. From the time he was 6 months old, he has played with my hair in one wary or another. Not every woman likes having her hair touched or played with, but I do, as do most of my family members. To me, it is very relaxing, and I could let him do it all day. I have fared well in that too, since his mom, my daughter Amy is pretty tender headed, and his sister, my granddaughter, Shai doesn’t like it at all, so Caalab had to wait for his grandma. How blessed was I on that one?
As I said, Caalab started playing with my hair when he was about 6 months old, and he never pulled on it. I have never seen a baby be so gentle with hair in my life. He gently ran a few strands between two of his little fingers from top to bottom. I guess he liked the way the hair felt as it ran between his fingers…just like his grandma does. To this day I play with my own hair, unless I can get someone to do it for me.
As the years have gone by, the way Caalab has played with my hair has changed. He is a very creative boy. He has brushed, twirled, flipped, and slapped my long hair, as anyone who knows him can attest, but he is very gentle. My Dad used to get a kick out of him at church, because when we stood up to sing, Caalab would climb up on the chair and start to play with my hair. I suppose some people might think he shouldn’t be doing that in church, but he was very well behaved in church, and all the church members knew what he was doing, and they always had to smile about it. The 
way I saw it, he wasn’t running around getting in trouble, and he wasn’t crying. It was a win-win situation.
It is my guess that Caalab will always like to play with someone’s hair. I feel very blessed to have been on the receiving end of so many relaxing hours while he played with mine, and as for his girlfriends, and his future wife…they will need to like to wear their hair long, and love having it played with. And take it from someone who knows, you will be blessed for years by this habit Caalab has. And if you get tired of it…send him to his grandma’s house, because I’ll be happy to let his play with my hair.
When my Aunt Sandy was born, there was some disagreement as to what her name would be. My grandfather wanted to name her Sonja, but my grandmother wanted to name her Sandra. Neither of them wanted to give in to the other, so they decided to let the rest of their children make the final choice. So, while Grandma was still in the hospital, Grandpa went home and talked to the kids. He told them that they had a new little sister, and that they were going to help pick out her name.
Of course, the children were excited about both the new baby, and picking her name. Their dad, asked them if the would like to have her be named, Sonja…as he said the name, he tried to make it sound as beautiful as he could. Then he asked if they would rather have the name Sandra, trying to make the name sound as plain as he could. It didn’t take the children more than a second to pick the name Sandra, and when he asked why they didn’t like the name Sonja, all they could say was, “Sonja…eeeewwwww, that is an awful name. Sandra is much better!!”
Poor Grandpa. He must have been so disappointed, but he was a man of his word, and Sandra it would be. He and Grandma had decided that the kids would have the final say, and that is how it would be. I’m sure Grandma was happy about the decision, and yet I also think she felt bad about his disappointment. It was a tough decision, and yet she really wanted her name to be Sandra.
After hearing this story from my mom a number of years ago, I asked Aunt Sandy which name she would have preferred, had the choice been hers. So often we wish we could have had a different name than the one we were given…at least, at some point in our lives. Then most of us decide that the name we were give is the best one after all. As to Aunt Sandy’s choice…she said, “Oh, definitely, Sandra!! I can’t imagine wanting to be Sonja…ever!!” So, whether Grandpa liked it or not, it looks like the name she was given was the best by majority rule. Today is Aunt Sandy’s birthday. Happy birthday Aunt Sandy!! We all love you very much!! Have a great day!!
So much has changed in the area of aviation over the years. I’m quite sure that the Wright brothers would be amazed. One thing that hasn’t changed since those first airplanes, however, is our interest, or in some cases obsession with flight. Many places around the country have displays of actual planes that are low enough to the ground to get you up close and most of these are displayed right beside entrances to memorials or other sights that are about flight. Planes, perched on a pole, give us the ability to stop and take pictures that we can use as a memory of our visit to the site.
Bob and I have made several of these stops to get pictures with an airplane of one type or another, and now looking back, I see that my parents and grandparents liked to do the same thing. There is just something about flight…the feeling of freedom, that draws us to it, but what really fascinates me is the changes in the planes over the years. If the Wright brothers were here, and a helicopter or a Harrier Jet took off, I’m sure they would stand there staring with their mouth wide open. The speed it took just to get their plane in the air for a few minutes compared to the lack of speed to get these in the air would be shocking.
When you compare the fighter planes of the past to those of today…well, just imagine if America had today’s planes in World War II. The war would have been over after one battle. No other nation would have been able to hold us off. The passage of time has brought new technology to the levels of being very dangerous in the wrong hands. I suppose it is a good thing that it came about slowly, so we could adjust our way of thinking. Still, craziness knows no generation, and there are always those who would start a war. And just a side note, be sure to take a good look at the cars in the first and last picture. Much has changed in the auto industry too…but, that is another story.
