Buffalo Gal

I have discovered a new way of defining getting older.   When you start using Aspercreme on your hands instead of your usual hand cream/lotion, you know that getting older is not for sissies.  The "sissies" one I heard from my older cousin, Duane, and he is so right.

But  that observation aside, I read the daily offering on "Writers’ Almanac" yesterday and want to share the poem entitled "Trees".   It is not the Joyce Kilmer classic from WW 1 vintage when Kilmer must have written his poem while serving in the military in France. From the picture of WW1 landscapes, there were not many forests or trees left standing in that particular conflict on many of the trench warfare battlefields.  But this poem about trees is much different than that written by Joyce Kilmer.

"TREES"   by W.S. Merwin

"I am looking at trees/     they may be one of the things I will miss the most from the earth /   though many of the ones I have seen already I cannot remember/  and though I seldom embrace the ones I have seen and have never been able to speak with one/     I listen to them tenderly/   their names have never touched them/    they have stood around my sleep/     and when it was forbidden to climb them they have carried me into their branches."

I have always looked at trees but I have always been like the poet—-I have not embraced them or spoken to them but they have always been around me and have "stood around my sleep"—-particularly in summertimes when I have slept with open windows letting the sighing of the night-time trees lull me into slumber, slowly and dreamily.   Recently, I lay down inside my little cabin (hytte) and just listened to the sound of the trees on a late Sunday afternoon.  Nothing else could be heard but the music of the trees.  Once in awhile, the songs of birds who live in the trees would intervene but it seemed altogether natural to hear birds and trees together.

The final lines…."and when it was forbidden to climb them they have carried me into their branches"  took me back to a large cedar tree which stood on the edge of a property line between my house and my friend Byron’s house.  Byron, me and our other neighborhood buddies spent a lot of time contemplating that big old Cedar tree.  It was very high by the time we encountered it and the branches were very close together making it nearly impossible to climb— but we did climb it—-forbidden by our parents possibly— but climb we did.  Our parents were too busy with their daily tasks to see what we did at the Cedar Tree. We took turns having a go at the tree….it was necessary for each of us to get a boost from one of the others to get into the first branch and then we were on our own.  The goal was to reach the topmost branch—probably  about 45 feet high and shout and wave to our buddies on the ground, who were craning their necks to watch our progress in the impossibly "branchy" tree.  I can still feel  the cedar leaves caressing me as I climbed from one branch to another.  Fortunately, cedar leaves are not sharp like other evergreens (I never remember climbing up a Blue Spruce).  I encountered several birds’ nests as I climbed—some of them had baby birds in them but we did not bother those nests.  That was one thing we had all been "forbidden" to do…leave birds nests alone!!!! I think I made it to the top one time and hollered and waved to my friends far below me. It was a thing we did over and over in the summer.  The call of the branches to carry is into them was like a siren song.  We just had to do it multiple times.

Yesterday, we drove to St Cloud to see "our Buddy" (grandson) play LIttle League baseball. All the way to that city you see trees along the way and they get thicker by the time you reach the "4 Sisters" as I have come to call them….little towns…Melrose, Freeport, Albany and Avon.  After you go by Avon you are in the thick forests surrounding St. Johns’ University…the forests are incredibly green now but I thought of what they will look like in late September or October—-all of them aflame with reds, oranges, yellows, pinks, tans…and interspersed among the hardwoods, the eternal deep green of the firs and pines and spruces—and maybe even some good Cedar climbing trees already discovered by a new generation of children.

How poor our lives would be without trees.   I think not only of the products we would not have, or even the oxygen they give us so we can breathe…that is much too pedestrian after reading the poem by Merwin. 

 I think of how we would miss the beauty and stateliness of trees.   What a bleak landscape the earth would be without its trees.    I can see why some people call others who love the environment greatly, "tree-huggers".    All of us should go out and hug a tree.  We hug our constant friends….and what are trees, if not constant friends?

I recently read a weekly column by "The Country Scribe"— Eric Bergeson.  He is soon to be writing a book commissioned by a man who was on the 1952 Halstad boys’ basketball team. Come to think of it…there were no "girls’ basketball teams in those days.  But the Halstad boys went to the big state tournament that year—-when there were no classes in state basketball—all the big teams plus one small town team usually ended up in the tournament in St. Paul and everyone in the outstate area pulled for the little school underdogs.  I am eager to read Bergeson’s book when it is published.  He is an outstandingly able writer.

Bergeson has been interviewing members of that 1952 team and came up with an interesting column he titled "Rules".   All the men on that basketball team talked about the rules they had in their day…be home by 10 o’clock on weeknights, no dates on week-nights, no displays of public affection, if you go on the bus, you come back on the bus, no smarting off to elders, the Pastor, the Superintendent, the Coach were always right!!!    (I remember that my parents were also "always right" and I was not.)  Those are the same rules I grew up with.   Some additional ones I remember following were "no riding on the school bus to games unless you had a scarf or a cap for your head, boots had to be on your feet, and you better be wearing warm mittens".  If you weren’t or didn’t , you did not get on the bus.  We also had to have a permission note from our parents that we could ride the bus.   I also remember a high school basketball coach, probably in about 1953, gathering all the girls who had ridden to a game on a bus— in the assembly room in the high school  late at night before we could go home.  He spoke to us about "not bothering the boys" so much ….tempting them to stay out late, etc.  I took it terribly seriously even though I was not old enough to date a boy at that time (more rules from MY parents.)   Protecting your boys’ basketball team was prime time for coaches in "those days".  Some of our coaches even checked up on the players at home to make sure they were in bed by 10 p.m. the night before a game.  Nobody complained about it either.  Parents expected it.  The use of alcohol or tobacco was also forbidden for any athletes.

What a different time it was—especially compared to the present time.  Rules are not made like that I don’t think.   Bergeson was appalled by the rules—he called them repressive, random and ridiculous.   I never  thought our rules  were any of those 3 "r"s. It was good to live by the rules and obey them.  It made life better and less complicated for me as a teenager.  The biggest rule I followed was "Do NOT do anything to disgrace your parents or your family."  That guided me throughout my years as a child, a teenager and a young adult.

Interestingly, the men who were interviewed for the book all thought the same as I do about rules.  They all expressed the thought that their rules made them better men and gave them a true "character building" lesson.  None of them thought the rules were repressive and all of them were grateful they had them.   There is a huge population out there of people who grew up with a lot of random, repressive and ridiculous rules.  Most of the ones I know are super citizens and have contributed greatly to the society and culture of our nation.

I wonder what sort of results will be known when the present generation looks back about 50-60 years at their own growing up times.  What will our country be like at that time?  Will the absence of  random, repressive, and ridiculous rules have a positive or a negative affect on our ethos as a nation?     I will probably not live to see the results but a lot of others will.   It is going to be "verrrrrr—y interesting", as good old Arte Johnson used to say on the Rowan and Martin comedy show.

( you can read Eric Bergeson’s blog and weekly columns by googling "country scribe.com". He is good and I never miss a week without checking up on the Country Scribe.  Right now there is the most stunning picture of an oriole with a grasshopper in its mouth; the grasshopper has been dipped in the grape jelly of the oriole feeder.  What a smart bird who knows its good cuisine!!  Bergeson also posts pictures of the Trumpter Swan family that lives in a swamp near his home.   Check out the "country scribe"..you will not regret it.)

Bear with me, Folks….I love to blog about gardening and we are currently having a riot of raspberries.    Last fall I saved two rows of raspberries after Hubby got really tired of taking care of them….you cannot just "let them go"…so he got on his mower tractor and was all set to mow them all down once and for all.  I  interceded and got two rows left after promising that I would take care of them and do everything needed to make them do well again (we have not had good crops the past years due to neglect of the raspberry patch).

So early this spring I was out there getting the old dead canes out of the patch;  I applied a pre-emergence weed product and did other things to encourage new vigorous growth.  It has paid off.  With all the wonderful rain we had early this summer our raspberry patch is producing fruit like we have not seen for at least 3 years.  I think the good rain is the best factor.  We are out picking fruit every day and have frozen many pounds and have eaten more pounds than I can guess.  I keep Half and Half on hand also…..mmmmmm, fresh raspberries with a bit of half and half….gourmet heaven!!!

Years ago when we first had raspberrie our 3 sons were still at home and would assist as pickers during the season.  We also had a lot of rabbits living in the raspberry patch at the time and I made the comment one day to the boys that the raspberry patch was a "regular rabbit warren".   After that they referred to "Warren the Rabbit" every time they saw one come streaking out of the patch.

I just made some tapioca pudding and it is cool enough to eat—-topped with a huge heap of fresh raspberries—-just picked and brought inside the kitchen!!!  Gotta stop right now! The food of the gods is waiting for me.

Just one year ago, my high school class had its 50th reunion and we had a wonderful weekend renewing old friendships.  There is something about the school class you grew up with for 12 years;  the sharing of so many good and bad times makes a bond that never gives in.   This weekend, one year later, our many friends in the class of 1957 had their 50th reunion and some of us "older kids" visited them while they were celebrating their renewal of friendship.  It was fun!    I got to visit with my two "brothers" Ronnie and Harlan. Growing up in a family of girls, these two boys were my good friends and adopted brothers.  They had no sisters so they adopted me;  50 years later that bond still holds and it was such fun seeing them  again.  I got to see Judy, Patty, Nancy, Marlene, Milton, Dale, Mike, Chuck, Gene, Donetta, Joanne, Joy (my neighborhood playmate), Dennis and Diane (high school sweethearts still!)   Several of us from the class of 1956 visited the 1957-ers last night…..it was a sweet experience.    ON Friday night several of us had gone to Duane’s Pizza and it seemed significant that it was Duane’s to which we went…..that was one of the first two pizza shops in F-M and probably the first place any of us ever tasted the new sensation in western Minnesota way back then.  I am certain that we went to Duane’s 50-odd years ago when we were still growing up and becoming young adults. To me, Duane’s pizza is still the best pizza, probably because it was the first I remember and it is still as delicious as the first time I ate it!!

Now we all go back to our "regular lives"…mostly being retired people and enjoying our grown up children and our grandchildren.  There are even a few great-grandparents among us….it just goes with the territory when you are that age.

It was great fun meeting old friends again and renewing good memories and good friendships….the kind that are forged in small school settings with small classes.   Small town America has produced a lot of adults who now appreciate their growing-up times and acknowlege that the 1950′s was probably one of the best of times for kids to come of age.

I just read the devastating news that Mr Steak is closing after 32 years with Michael and Nancy Nelson having managed it so beautifully.  It was one restaurant where you could get a traditional "American meal" and you knew it would be tasty and near to perfection.  Oh how I am going to miss those steaks I have eaten there over the years—–and the wonderful salad bar!     I can understand the Nelsons wanting to rest from their 32 years after their  labor of love; they provided good food and a good atmosphere for so many people who were "regulars" at the restaurant.

Now I will have to break the bad news to my college roommate Lynn.  We always met her and her husband Ken for dinner  at Mr. Steak in the first week of December before going to one of the Concordia Christmas concerts.  It was a tradition and now we won’t be able to eat at Mr Steak come next December.

I am not enamored with the idea of yet another Mexican restaurant.   It seems that every other place that closes either becomes a Chinese buffet or a  mediocre Mexican restaurant.

There is only ONE Mexican restaurant in Fargo and that is Mexican Village!!!!   Now another good eating place bites the dust and we are poorer for its closing.  I do wish Mike and Nancy a happy retirement or some new and different careers that won’t force them to work 7 days a week.  That was the secret to their great success…one or both of them were always there and that is how good restaurants flourish…..careful and constant attention by the owners to the quality of the food and the service.  The Nelsons did it so well!

Every week our local newspaper includes a favorite column titled "Journey Back".  Selected items from past newspapers goes back in 10 year time chunks so that this week the first entry was from July 15, 2002 and the final one was from June  8, 1906.  I always read this column and sometimes it gets a bit boring with accounts of funerals, weddings, and births….nothing more.   But occasionally there is some tidbit that is really good and this week had a couple of items that tweaked my curiosity adn my memory.   

A report from "Journey Back" of June 30 1987 reported an item from June of 1917 in an account of graduation from our local highschool.  There were 10 girls and 3 boys.  The class picture appeared in a June, 1906 edition of the local paper but it was a picture of the 13 girls—-2 of the boys were already on their way to basic training for World War 1 and the only boy left refused to have his picture taken with all the girls….some things never change….the one boy was not about to be the ONLY boy on the picture so only the girls were photographed by pioneer photographer S.P. Wange.  The girls had names typical of that era—there were three Esthers; Jewell, Fern, Helen,Lucille, Ida, Cleora, Nina and Ruth.  The boys were John, Allan, Maurice and it was Allan who refused to have his photo taken with the girls.  It also said the girls were all wearing white dresses….a tradition. I think.  for graduations and confirmations of that era.

The other item that caught my eye was one about my own father who, in the July 13, 1967 issue of the local paper was reported to have had a serious accident at his machine shop on main street.  In the early dawn hours, a time he loved to work in the relative coolness of morning,  he prepared to use a blowtorch to cut the lid off a metal barrel that had been formerly full of some sort of industrial chemical.  He was in a hurry that morning and took a serious shortcut in barrel cutting.  He normally filled the empty barrels with water to get any gases out before applying the torch but this morning he was in too hasty that day;  he skipped the filling with water and when he applied the blowtorch to the barrel , it exploded with tremendous boom heard all over the downtown area.  All the windows in his shop were blown out; he was knocked unconcsious for several minutes but his only injury was a badly bruised hand.  His blowtorch was found to have soared over 3 other buildings,  landing in front of the gas pumps at a station on the other side of the block.  I remember the sick feeling of that day on hearing such news about my Dad.  I realized that he had been spared and that he could have been killed instantly in that explosion.  After recovering his dignity and acknowledging how serious the incident was, he went back to his usual joking and remarked to the local paper that he had been planning to wash his windows but would not have to do it,  since he had to get all new ones.   His window – washing was legendary; the shop was a smoky, greasy workplace and you could not see in the windows unless you got there the day he washed them (once a year whether they needed it or not, he always told people). That summer he was able to skip the annual window washing for a not- so- good reason.

Another journey back occurred last night but it was not in print…yet.   My childhood friend (whom I do not remember no knowing)–and I—- along with  our two husbands went to Duane’s Pizza for a pre-reunion gathering  with friends from the class of 1957 who are celebrating their 50th class reunion this weekend.  It was a delightful evening spent with good friends from long ago….friends who will always be friends no matter how far scattered we live, presently.   There was much fun and conversation.  The setting at Duane’s Pizza was especially meaningful since all of us recalled tasting Duane’s pizza for the first time while we were college students in Moorhead.  It still tastes the same and is the best pizza in town still….Duane started in a small shop on a street long gone in Moorhead that was right next to the river.  The street disappeared years ago during one of the urban renewal projects but all of us could see, in our minds’ eyes, the old Duane’s where we first tasted the new sensatational food that none of us had ever seen in our small town growing up times.  It was a great evening!

What a beautiful day!!!   Sunshine and clear cloudless blue skies with a gentle breeze blowing all day has made it a perfect July 4th.  We decided to take in the early events at MSUM’s "old fashioned Fourth of July" celebration again.  The past few July 4ths we have done the same thing and have never been disappointed.

We arrived on the shady campus mall at about 12:15 p.m. today and instead of watching the parade arrive on campus as we had planned, we found chairs in the shade of the largest and oldest cottonwood tree I have ever seen.  It stands right in front of the Livingston Lord Library and although I have been in that part of the campus hundreds of times, I never noticed that big old tree until today.  It must have been there before MSUM was even begun.  There is another one equally large and old between the library and Ballard Hall which I also noticed for the first time today.  The stately elm trees are still looking healthy all around the mall and they provide the most comfortable setting on a hot day.

The place was absolutely jammed with people who must love to come for the old fashioned Fourth as much as we do.  As the parade ended, people  came across from the west side of the mall like a tsunami hurrying inland.  Everyone settled near the stage by the library where all of us enjoyed the Lake Agassiz community band under the direction of "Johnny Flag" an alias for John – - – - whose last name I cannot dredge up.  Tesch???  He has been at MSUM for over 30 years and is an outstanding teacher of music and instrumental music.  The band was great.  Then "Uncle Sam" (President Roland Barden) gave the welcome and greeting and it was off to the races.   More entertainment on stage all afternoon and lots of fun for kids at the games and more fun for the adults at the Bingo tent which was also crammed with Bingo players.  What is it about Bingo?  It is such an old game but it is so loved by those who play it.  It must be the lure of some pretty good prizes. We also enjoyed watching kids try the "climbing wall" and press a buzzer at the top.  Some of the smallest kids made it to the top as well as the bigger ones.  There was an extremely long line for that attraction so it must be fun to climb up that steep wall.  I got the "fear of high places" feeling I always have had when I watched those kids go up the walls like a troop of monkeys.  I could never have done it.  I have always dislike being in high places out in the open.

Everyone I "people-watched" for a part of the afternoon from various shady spots on the mall seemed to most preoccupied with eating!  After all, where—-in one day—-can you get good hot dogs, popcorn, carmeled apple slices, donuts, funnelcakes, Indian tacos on fry-bread, delicious sandwiches, huge dill pickles on a stick, ice cream cones and other treats, lemonade, ice water, soda pop, and coffee???    We did our part by eating one of the huge sandwiches at a special sandwich shop in the food court and a hearty Indian taco.  Then we staggered off to the ice cream place and had dessert.  I was hoping to down a funnel cake or a doughnut but my capacity for eating is not as great as it used to be in spite of my willingness to go "whole hog" at special occasions like the one today.  I guess I will have to recover and wait for the Fargo Street Fair which sometimes defeats me due to the heat and humidity hovering in the tunnel-atmosphere of the downtown Fargo streets.  "It all depend on the weather" (one of my mother’s old sayings that will never leave me).

The bicycle parade by the kids and their parents was a highlight of the day.  There must have been hundreds of kids entered.  Most were pedaling various sized bikes, some little ones were riding in decorated wagons or strollers.  There were decorated dogs walking in the parade also.  My favorite was a cute black dog wearing what looked like a bright red and white sport outfit that had appropriate openings for all 4 of his legs and plenty of room left for him to wag his tail.  Another cute dog…a little poodle or schnauzer—-sat on his master’s lap during the opening ceremonies and band concert.  He was being kept happy by grandkids feeding him doggie treats.  I love pets so I am enamored when I see  sweet dogs or cats…no cats on campus…a cat would be too undone by all the people and all the action going on.  Dogs can take it—-but NOT cats!!!

It is such fun to see the people who turn out for the Old Fashioned Fourth on MSUM’s campus.   It must be a "must" for many other people than just us.   It is a reminder of what small town all day picnics and celebrations were like when we were kids.   Even the kids and young people who remember nothing like that love the Old Fashioned Fourth and get a good look at an American tradition from long ago when most everyone lived in a small town or near one.

Now with the viewing  of the "Capitol Fourth" from Washington, D.C.  my day will be perfect and complete.   I never have enough "oomph" to stick it out at MSUM for the fireworks there which go off about 10:30 at night.   I am pretty well done in by the fresh air, the full stomach, the sunshine and the breezes—-  my eyes are tuckered out from watching people. I have  enjoyed the camaraderie of the many, many people who love the Old Fashioned Fourth as much as I do.   So home in the late afternoon is just right.

I hope all my friends are as full of good Fourth of July food as I am—-and I hope my enemies are twice as full!  

I have done some reading lately…reading which reminded me of our history and our heritage as a nation.  Tomorrow will mark the 231st year since we declared our independence from Great Britain.  We were already embarked on the road to revolution and battles had already been fought in the struggle to gain our national sovereignty. 

 David McCullough’s book of a couple years ago, "1776" stunned me.  I did not realize how close the American colonists came to losing the war of independence in that singular year.  George Washington’s army faltered and fled from the British regulars many times and it was not until the fateful defeat of the British mercenaries at Trenton that things began to turn around and Washington actually felt like there was a chance for victory.

I have read in the past few days about the undermining of American History in the name of political correctness, particularly in the current crop of American History textbooks that are being used in many public schools.  David McCullough, the author I previously referred to, gave a report to the US Senate telling that body that American History was our nation’s worst subject in school.  Our children do worse in American History than they do in reading or math.  Adults in this country should be instilling a love of country in the children but the greatness and purposes of our country are often mocked by adults…..many news-people tear down everything about our nation;  newspapers, movies, television drip with constant cynicism about our country.  Too many in our nation’s chattering classes are ready to believe the worst about our nation and our leaders and are not shy about openly tearing down most everything about our nation.

Current American History textbooks ignore many historical figures.   George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Abigail Adams, Abraham LIncoln, Frederick Douglass, Theodore  Roosevelt, Amelia Earheart, Jesse Owens, Martin Luther King Jr. are given bare mention in just a few sentences in current history texts.  Bare mention is made of America’s landing on the moon but much space is given to the Soviet gains in space and the American "Challenger" disaster in 1986.     Historian Arthur Schlessinger has said that America’s landing on the moon was the greatest event of the 20th century.  The writers of the current batch of history textbooks nearly ignores it.

Parents are the first teachers of their children and the best Department of Education!  Families ought to making trips to historical sites and encouraging their children to learn all they can about our true journey through the past 231 years of our history.  Something must be done to ameliorate the damages done by politically correct textbooks and some teachers who fall into that same category of P.C.-ness.   There are volumes of history recorded in Washington DC—in the monuments , in the US Senate and House Chambers, in the Supreme Court’s halls….in almsot all of the public buildings.

Abraham Lincoln described Ameria as "the last best hope of earth".   We must celebrate it, described it, appreciate it.   If we give in to the present historical "amnesia" our future citizens are doomed never to  know the greatness of this nation.  It must be repeated from generation to generation and we all have our roles in that great task.

The Glorious Fourth must remain a glorious event and all the history of our great nation must be told over and over again to the generations yet to come.

Have a wonderful holiday on July 4 and remember why we celebrate it.

In blogging, sometimes it doesn’t rain but what it pours; this is just such a day.

In the recent days we have heard through much news coverage of the car-bombs and exploding car in Great Britain.  Terrorism is most likely the root of those bombs.  But now comes another kind of "Bomb" in yesterday’s issue of the U.K. Sunday edition of the TELEGRAPH,  a long time, respected newspaper published in London.    Three Bishops of the Church of England have made some strong statements regarding the horrible flooding in that nation due to heavy rains.  The headline reads thus:   "Floods are judgement on society, say bishops".    The 3 bishops—-the Rt. Rev. Graham Dow, Bishop of Carlisle,  the Rt. Rev James Jones, and the Rt. Rev. Richard Chartres, Bishop of London have all agreed on this issue.  Here follows several direct quotes from the Sunday TELEGRAPH article that are sure to set off a firestorm in Britain and elsewhere.   I was taken by surprise since I have looked at England and its sister countries, Scotland, Wales and Ireland as being rather weak when it comes to faith matters….but if these Bishops speak for a lot of Brits, I am dead wrong.

"The floods that have devasted swathes of the country are God’s judgement on the immorality and greed of modern society…..One diocesan bishop has even claimed that laws that have undermined marriage, including the introduction of pro-gay legislation, have provoked God to act by sending the storms that have left thousands of people homeless."

" This is a strong and definite judgement because the world has been arrogant in going its own way. We are reaping the consequences of our moral degradation, as well as the environmental damage that we have caused."  (Bishop Dow)

"He {Bishop Dow} exxpressed sympathy for those who have been hit by the weather, but said that the problem with "environmental judgement is that it is indiscriminate."

"Global warming has been caused by people’s lack of care for the planet and recent environmental catastrophes are a warning over how we behave"  (Bishop Jones)

"People no longer see the natural disasters as an act of God. However we are now reaping what we have sown.  If we live in a profligate way then there are going to be consequences ."  (Bishop Jones)

"We are all part of the problem and part of the solution. Instead of living as if we owned the earth, we need torecover a sense of being participants in a web of life with responsibilities to other life forms and to our children."  (Bishop Chartres)

WOW!   What flak is going to descend from these statements from leading churchmen in Britain?   People today are not used to hearing these kinds of words of condemnation and are probably going to go ballistic in trying to refute what they are seeing and hearing from their church leaders.    A must-read today is the Monday issue of the U.K. TELEGRAPH.  I am shocked and I bet there are a few million Brits who are also!

I cannot resist one more diary entry from the old one I kept years ago and then abandoned til I started blogging.  For those who read this blog regularly, you already know how I feel about my Dad.  This page was written shortly after he died on November 2, 1991.

"It has been months since this{diary} has been written in—much has happened in that time. Our beloved "Daddy" passed from this life (at age 86) on November 2, 1991, the day of our oldest granddaughter’s third birthday.  It happened in the midst of the first storm of the winter.  "B" (sister)  and I had been at Eventide that Friday night and our Dad had been  in a comatose sleep since Wednesday October 30—he slept away early Saturday morning….a blessed death and almost exactly the same manner as I remember my Grandfather(Dad’s father) passing away in 1954.  Son  "R" said at the funeral on November 5th, "My Grandpa left us three years ago" and wtih the dementia he had truly left us years before he died. I am so glad that he will have a new body and a sound mind in Heaven.

On November 22 just days after Dad’s death, a baby boy was born {to my second son and his wife}…it seems like God had given us a "new man" to take Dad’s place on Earth.  He is a beautiful boy…8# and 12 oz and very alert and pretty for a baby—-he has lovely pink skin and is so healthy looking.  "R" says if  "A" {his son} just had a mustache he would look just like his father."

(The reading of this entry brought back so many powerful emotions…..grief,  joy, and thankfulness.   Even in our deepest sorrows there is a beam of bright redeeming light shining through.    I am thankful on July 2 for being able to read this entry again.)