memories
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!!
It seems to be the way of every fisherman to tell tales of the big one that got away, or just how many fish they caught. It also seems like those fish grow in size and in number with each telling of the tale. I think that just about every fisherman has engaged in such tales, and it appears that my brother-in-law, Ron is no exception. Now, I can’t say for sure exactly what he was saying when this picture was taken, but the fish hanging from his shoulder give me a pretty good idea. It would seem that age is not a factor when it comes to those fish stories, because Ron appears to be working hard to make his point. Of course, that seems to be the way it is when these guys are making up their fish story…they assume you won’t believe them anyway, so they really doctor up the story to start with, and depending on who they go fishing with, they could be learning from the masters of fish stories.
Ron loves to go camping and, as far as I know, still likes fishing today, as well as hunting, but I don’t know if he is still into telling the wild tales that often go along with those sports. It would not be surprising to me if he still told some whoppers, I mean after all, it is the sport for those wild tales. I have to wonder how far from reality most of the big fish stories really are. If you ask most fishermen, they seem to have all caught…or at least had 
a nibble on the line from a fish the size of a small shark, and who’s to say it isn’t so…right?
And, the fishing trip isn’t all about the fishing, it’s about camping and great times with good friends too. There is just something about sitting around the campfire, talking and telling those stories, while roasting marshmallows, that makes for the most enjoyable evening. Ron loved the whole marshmallow thing too. So, after a hard day of fishing, he would load up on those gooey, melted marshmallows while soaking his feet in a pan to get the dirt off from a long day in the woods. Awww!! Now, that’s what I call relaxing.
These days lots of parents set their kids up with play dates with the children of their friends, so the kids can have friends and the moms can visit while the kids play. It is a common practice, and sets the kids up in their first friendships. It’s rather a new practice, and not a bad one. Kids need friends, and stay at home moms need time to relate to other adults. The play date is a good answer. Nevertheless, the play date is a fairly new event.
When I was a child, we didn’t have play dates. Most moms didn’t work outside the home, but they didn’t do play dates either. They simply told us to go outside and play. And usually there were lots of other kids, right on our own block, whose moms had just told them the same thing. Times were different then, of course, and it was safer for kids to play outside, even after dark…not that we got to do that very often, especially on a school night. When I was a kid, we always had a bunch of kids on our block, and we all played together. I guess ours was more like a block party that a play date.
There were times when the cousins came over for a visit, and while the parents visited, the kids were told to go outside and play. That was ok with us, because really, who wants to listen to all that grown up talk anyway…boring!!! Besides, when the cousins came over, and you mixed them with the rest of the kids on the block, you had the makings of a great time. Of course, there could also be the normal fights when someone didn’t want to share you with your cousins, or vice versa, but those usually were resolved pretty quickly and the fun when on.
I understand why parents today want to have play dates for their kids, and I suppose we had them to, but it certainly didn’t involve parental planning, other than telling us to go outside. I guess either way works, and it’s hard to have the block party kind of play date without first letting your child get to know other kids, but when a play date is with a friend’s child, and the friend doesn’t live on your block, they still don’t get to meet the neighborhood kids. I suppose this is a bit safer, but I like the way I grew up, where kids weren’t worried about making friends with the neighborhood kids. Too bad we can’t still be living in those times.
In the early years of being a grandpa, my father-in-law had just girls…three in a row to be exact. That didn’t bother him one bit. They were grandpa’s girls, and he thought that was just fine. He loves kids, and as I have seen in letters he wrote to my mother-in-law, before their marriage, he had a special place in his heart for those little girls. His future sister-in-law, Margee had been just a little over 5 months old, when he and my mother-in-law were married, and he thought Margee was just the sweetest thing. His thoughts on baby girls didn’t change much over the years.
The girls felt the same way about their grandpa as he felt about them. They just thought he was the greatest thing going too. He loved to get down on the floor and play with them, and even if they were having one of their drama filled moments, he just didn’t seem to mind…he just redirected the play, so the drama would end, and the fun would begin. It was always fun to watch him with the girls, because he just loved being a grandpa, and it showed. In fact, he had always loved kids, so maybe that’s where Bob got his way with the little ones…softies, both of them.
I sometimes wondered where my father-in-law got his patience with the girls when they were fighting or crying…usually in the form of screaming, both. He didn’t lose his patience, like I felt like doing, but rather just separated the two fighters, and hugged them when they had their little boo boos. The screaming and crying practically drove me up a wall. If they were in that kind of a mood, I was very happy to let them go visit their grandparents, so grandpa could settle them down some.
As the years went by, my father-in-law would get one more granddaughter, and three grandsons. While he was wonderful with all of them, and it was obvious that he was simply partial to babies and kids in general, I will always remember those early years fondly. Thoughts of him happily surrounded by his girls playing and laughing put a smile on my face. The girls were so blessed to have him for their grandpa, and I hope they know that. Not every child gets to live near their grandparents, and the fact that they did is very special. While my father-in-law is gone now, I’ll always see him surrounded by his loving family, and I’ll always hold a special memory in my memory files for him and Grandpa’s Girls.
A few days ago, I got a message on Facebook that would bring full circle another chapter in my family’s past. My cousin Pam, who is my Uncle Bill’s daughter, and her husband, Mike were planning a spontaneous vacation, and wanted to come to Casper to visit us. We were beyond excited!! We quickly contacted all the local family so they could plan to attend, and then sat back to wait with great anticipation on Thursday’s arrival. It felt like a long wait. We had been in contact through Facebook, and we were thankful for that, because of it we had been given the chance to get reacquainted with Pam already. The visit here would be a face to face continuation of our Facebook conversations.
Finally, the moment arrived. It felt almost like we had never been apart, except that there was so much to catch up on. We talked about the usual things, like family, lost loved ones, our sadness over Uncle Bill’s Alzheimer’s Disease and his struggles to figure out what happened to his sisters and brother, who have all passed away. And we talked of the old days, when we were all kids. They funny things her brothers used to do, and all the trips we got to go on together. Very quickly he years just melted away like ice cubes on a hot day. It was wonderful to be back in touch, and especially wonderful to see Pam again and meet her husband, Mike.
The evening went by far too fast, and before it hardly got started it was 11:00 and time for 
everyone to get some sleep, so we said good bye to Pam and Mike, and they headed back to their hotel room. Our time was over…the precious moments had slipped by so fast, and we knew that it might be a while before we will see each other again. It makes me sad to think of that, but we are going to try to make plans to head out there sometime soon, to see Pam and Mike again, and hopefully many other family members that we haven’t seen in far too long a time. Sometimes it takes a spontaneous visit to remind you that precious moments are just far too important to miss out on.
While brothers have long been known to be best buddies, and most get along pretty well as kids, it seems like that isn’t always the case when a number of years separate the two. Bob was fourteen years old when his only brother came on the scene. Sisters had dominated his life from his birth in 1954 to the birth of his brother, Ron in 1968…four sisters, to be exact. I’m sure a brother was a welcome change, still fourteen years is a great distance to overcome when it comes to being best buddies. Ron wouldn’t even be someone Bob could play with much before Bob was sixteen, and then driving and going out with friends and girlfriends would be more the things on Bob’s mind.
In most cases, all the things a teenager wants to do, when they get to the point of driving, put a quick end to the time they want to spend with their little brothers and sisters. That was not the case with Bob…at least not where his little brother was concerned. They had always been close, and still are today. Bob has always had a way with kids, and his little brother was no different, and once he is friends with someone, it takes a lot to change that. And Bob doesn’t care about their age. His little brother has always been special to him. It has always been a special relationship.
I will never forget some of the dates Bob and I went on…with his six year old brother. It was not what I would have ever expected, but found to be very sweet. Sometimes, it isn’t the normal things about a person that make the person, but rather the unusual things they do that can endear them to you…sometimes forever, as is the case with Bob and me. He just had a special quality, a kindness to others. I could tell that he could no more have hurt his brother’s feelings than he could grow wings and fly, a trait I’m sure my brother-in-law also appreciated as well.
Of course, as with any boy or man, the car they drive is a big deal, and for these brothers, cars were something they had in common, and still do. It was a bonding thing for both of them. Maybe that is why they were such good friends, and still are today.
As we head into summer, many people start making plans to go camping. Bob and I like hiking a lot, but we really don’t go camping…strange I suppose, especially considering the fact that my parents took my sisters and me camping every summer of our childhood. And, I liked camping then, but Bob and I like the comforts of a motel room, and we get our nature fix when we go hiking. I know lots of people would laugh at that idea, but to each his own, I say. Things change and people change, and that isn’t a bad thing, it’s just a different thing than before. I still love to sit around the campfire at night, just enjoying the warmth and beauty of the flames, but it sometimes gets pretty cold at night, and in the early morning, and standing around a campfire in my coat wishing I was warmer, isn’t my idea of fun.
Still, the memories of the days when we went camping are fond ones. We used to sit around the campfire until midnight or later, and then sleep in the next morning. We woke up to the smell of the campfire and coffee brewing. It was a smell that sure could make you hungry, and then you still had to wait until breakfast was cooked before you could eat. The pine trees gave off a scent all their own too, and to this day, the scent of real pine trees, reminds me of camping…and of being out in the fresh air. Memories…like echoes of my past.
I don’t miss camping so much, but I miss those days in my childhood…days when we were all together, with no one missing. I think that was what made camping fun. Being out in the woods, but always knowing that my dad was there to keep us safe. Being outside at night, but knowing that Dad would keep the fire going, to keep the bears away. It was such a special time in our lives, and I don’t think I could feel the same about it now. And yet, I don’t think I will always be able to see, in my mind’s eye, those memories…the echoes of my past.
Memorial Day…a day for remembering the fallen soldiers, began after the Civil War, which has laid claim to the most war dead in any war in history. Most people don’t know that. When you think about the fact that so many of the fallen soldiers in the Civil War died gruesome deaths, torn to pieces by cannon balls or musket guns. Medical care was minimal, at best and nonexistent in many cases. There were no dog tags or DNA testing, so many of the soldiers killed were never identified. They died without dignity, after giving their live so nobly in the fight for freedom.
Ours was a nation in mourning, with no way to fully express the depth of its feelings. Originally called Decoration Day, this day was set aside as a day to decorate the graves of war dead, giving them the honor and dignity they did not have at the time of their death.
Since its inception on May 5, 1867, Memorial Day, as it is now called, has changed in many ways. Many people simply think of it as a day off from work…a good day to party or gather for picnics with friends and family. They forget that since the Civil War, our nation has been 
involved in many wars and police actions, as they have been called since World War II. People notoriously try to block out those things that make them feel uncomfortable. Sad…that we could so easily forget the sacrifices that have been made to give them the freedom to choose not to honor the men who fought to give them that freedom. Sad that we could be so quick to forget.
Today, those of us who celebrate Memorial Day as Decoration Day have also added our loved ones who are not veterans, and I believe that is fitting too. So, for me, I honor my dad, my father-in-law, nieces, aunt, uncles, grandparents, and cousins who have gone before me. I love you all.
Kids these days don’t play the same games that kids of the past played. That is not such an unusual thing, because the times change, but it is sad to think that the kids today don’t know how to play games like Kick the Can, Red Rover, Jacks, or Marbles. When I was a kid, boys and girls alike played marbles, but there was a time, when marbles was pretty much considered a game for boys. Girls were supposed to be playing more ladylike games.
The little boy, who was my father-in-law, lived in such times, and he couldn’t wait to play marbles like the other boys around him. Then, one day, when he was in second grade, he found himself in possession of one marble. Now, it was a bit of a risky move to join in a game of marbles when you had just one marble, because if you lost it, you were done. Still, what good was one marble if you kept it in your pocket and never took a chance to win more. The thought of being afraid to play…well, it just never occurred to little Walt.
He got himself into the first game he came across, and played his little heart out. He didn’t lose the first marble he ever had, and began winning right away. I can just imagine how proud he was when he showed his mom his take that first day. And winning that first marble, probably got him immediately addicted to the game. I can picture him practicing at home, all by himself, so that he could get better and better at the game that he loved so much. And, get better, he most certainly did. Before long, he was the winningest marble player in the area, and by the time he got to be too old to play such kid games anymore, he had won a good sized box of marbles. So many in fact, there was no way he could possibly take all of them to each match he played.
That little boy is gone now, as is the man who is my father-in-law, but his legend lives on, in his little brothers. While in town, for the funeral of his brother, Uncle Butch asked us about the box of marbles. None of us knew anything about it, as he had never mentioned it to us. As we went through the house, going through his things, we assumed that the box os marbles must have, long since, been given away…until yesterday, when we came across them again. They were in the same old box that had once held a lunch pail, safely tucked on the top shelve of the closet, because even though the little boy had outgrown the game of marbles, the little boy still lived in the memory files of the man who became my father-in-law.
As a kid, and young mother, I felt like little boys were almost alien beings, and since the arrival of my three grandsons, I find myself thinking maybe I was right. No, not really, but I think they are so funny sometimes. If someone is taking a picture, leave it to a little boy to make a funny face or turn into a tiger or monster. And, while little boys are often the ones who act goofy in those pictures, that doesn’t mean that the big boys and the men can’t do the same. It seems to be in their nature.
My cousin Jimmy…Jim now, of course, was just one such kid. When his mom and sister were posing nicely with Grandpa, Jimmy just couldn’t resist the urge to turn into a tiger for the picture. Or maybe he was the Incredible Hulk, or a monster. I’m sure we will probably never know, because I doubt that he even remembers this picture, but unlike Vegas, what happens in a picture is there for all to see. That may not be ok in just everything, but Jimmy being a tiger…that is ok in my book. I do have to wonder though, if he doesn’t turn into the tiger now and then when he is playing with his niece and nephews. Yes, I can see that in him 
for sure, and I’ll bet his family can too.
My grandsons, like in this picture of Josh, all took turns becoming a tiger or something just a fierce, and looked just as cute doing it as Jimmy did all those years ago. They can’t help themselves. Someone raises a camera for the picture and all that goofiness just come tumbling out. Most girls can sit still, and pose nicely, but boys…and even a lot of men, are just too full of wiggles and goofy ideas. Sitting still and not making a funny face is almost impossible, and if you ask me, that is ok too. I mean, we would wonder if something was wrong if they didn’t make a face or goof off in some other way. All that goofiness is just the way they are.
