they say "you can't choose your family"

...but that just ain't true....

I was nine years old when my daddy died.  I really did not comprehend the finality of that at the time.  I had not even seen him for over two weeks.  I just wanted to tell him that I loved him and I missed him.  They said he was gone. It took a few years for that to really sink in.  Why didn't someone sit down with me and talk about the fact that I would never see him again.  I will never know the answer to that.

Just before my 16th birthday my mother married her third husband.  He was a man from her past; someone she had known most of her life.  He had four grown daughters, and at that time 6 grandchildren.  We (my mother, her husband, and I) had to get accustomed to living in the same house together.  He had to understand that things were a certain way in our home, and he could not come blustering in and interfere with some things. Once we understood each other everything settled down.

he was old, and gentle, and kind.... and he loved his daughters and their husbands, and their families...
And we had some good talks, now and then, when my mother was out..... and the three of us together.
I miss his concertina. He played The Missouri Waltz on his concertina. (just the melody) A lot....

Now we did visit with his daughters and their families quite a bit, which was fine. In retrospect: I thank the Lord for that. I am thankful that I have known his grandchildren nearly their entire lives. 

These are my people.  I will always call them my nieces and nephews,...even the ones I don't get to see very often.  These are the warm, generous, and loving family that some of us could only dream of.... pleasant holidays, filled with love and laughter.  These are my people.  I love them. I would do anything for them.

I am so grateful that those who live nearby do include me.  Every major holiday and most of the birthdays....  I am so thankful to be included.
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pleasant holidays, filled with love and laughter......

you know who you are. thank you. from my heart, thank you.

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well looked-after, a remembrance of a brother.

when I was five years old we took off for my parents annual road trip to Florida, for part of the winter...  always after the Christmas holiday... in January.  

this was the year, though, that we had the accident, and never made it to Florida.  I can remember spending a night or two in a big room in a hospital, with both my mother and father, and I cannot really remember, but I guess there was a roll-away cot of some kind for me to sleep on, or perhaps a sofa was placed in that room for me.  

on one of the following days my brother showed up.  he was my father's younger son, but was an adult, with a child of his own at home.  I guess that this brother came for me because it had been decided that I would go home with him.  perhaps they thought it best that I make the trip homeward with him, so that I would not be confused,...or something.  Anyway, he was very kind and gentle with a frightened little girl who did not want to leave her mommy and daddy.

We first stopped at the local sheriff's office, where the belongings salvaged from our wrecked car had been locked up in a jail cell for safe keeping.  I do not remember the drive homeward at all. It was about 260 miles, and at that time it probably took at least 5-1/2 hours to make that drive.  We went directly to my house, unloaded the goods from the trunk of the car.  There was a conversation between my father's two sons (I will not discuss that here).. and then I was taken to the home of the younger man.  His wife embraced me, their daughter was present.... I know that I stayed there with them, and I know that they were very kind to me during that time.  And that is all I remember of that time immediately after that accident.

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My next memory of this brother, my father's younger son, was a time when I had a loose tooth come out... I was perhaps 6 years old... he said to me, "give me that tooth. I will take it home and put it under my pillow for the tooth fairy."  I looked to the older brother, who nodded at me,... and I handed over that tooth.  "I will bring it back tomorrow." was the promise. 

The next morning I hurried out to see what the tooth fairy had done about that.... and that brother of mine handed me a styrofoam coffee cup, with a smile.  I looked in the cup, and there were a lot of coins in there with the tooth.  More than a dollar.  I hugged him and told him, "WOW, thank you!"

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Many years later, going through boxes of keepsake items my mother had held onto for decades I found a post card that brother had mailed home from his time in the service, in Japan.... it was a postcard made of wood.  I put it in a bubble pack mailer and sent it to him.  About a week later I had a phone call.  That brother, he was surprised to see that wooden postcard, and wanted to thank me for thinking of him.

That brother, my father's younger son,... he was kind of shy, reserved.  He took things to heart.  He was a gentle person. Thoughtful.  

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about 5 years later i called him and his wife one evening.  we spent more than an hour 'visiting' on the telephone.  it was a very nice time, chatting and reminiscing...with them.
i am so grateful to have known these gentle people. 


Thank you, S. and J.  your kind care was (and is) appreciated....

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some kindness you never ever forget
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My Favorite Thanksgiving

My Favorite Thanksgiving…

Well the best funny Thanksgiving story anyway….a few years ago….

It was the year that most of the folks were sick… they stayed home, but sent representatives who were not sick with the flu.  I don’t recall the year, but the littlest one was probably 2 years old.  Certainly old enough to enunciate clearly, and yet young enough to make those utterances that exasperate mommy.  He was so cute!

So, at my niece’s home we were gathered,… I honestly remember this as the group: my niece, her husband, their wee tot, and two of my nephews.  In my memory no one else was present.  That may be why I am the only who still tells the story of that Thanksgiving day.

Five adults and one little boy gathered around the table. We chatted and laughed and generally enjoyed ourselves waiting for the meal to be ready.  Finally all the food was on the table and we were ready to begin our meal.  And that’s when it happened.

Little Caleb piped up, loud and clear, “I want quesadillas!” he announced.  My two nephews and I immediately turned to his mother and, in unison, said, “YOU HAVE QUESADILLAS?” and then we laughed as she said, “No!” to all of us; and then, to little Caleb, “sweetie, it’s Thanksgiving. We have turkey.” 

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Alas, there were no quesadillas served,… and yet every Thanksgiving I get this craving….

And the sweet little boy? He went off to college this year... quite the handsome young man,...
with no memory of the quesadillas that weren't.....

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I still have delightful Thanksgivings with the same folks, usually at one of the nephew's homes.  It is always a pleasure to join this family for holiday meals.  No dissent, no arguments, everyone gets along so wonderfully.  I am grateful to be included in the group.

Truth be told they make every Thanksgiving is my favorite Thanksgiving.

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