Sentimental Sunday The Hero Wanted to Hunt

When we were first married, the Hero wanted to be like his brother-in-law and hunt. His father had never gone hunting to his knowledge.  The Hero was wanting to put duck on the table... I mean meat on the table.  He asked Tim if he could go with him the next time the guys went out.  A date was set, and the Hero's dad gave him a his old shot gun.  He sat and cleaned it several times making sure it was in perfect condition.
The day finally came.  The Hero dressed in a jacket and jeans.  It was a cold morning for coastal Texas.  He drove over and met 'the guys' to go out to the duck blind.  They had a cooler of beer.  He was hoping for hot chocolate.   Their first order of business was to set him up on one side of the pond and they went to the other, with the words 'wait for the duck to land'.
He sat there, lying on the ground, vigilantly looking at the sky and the pond where a decoy had been placed near some reeds.  It was quite a while before he finally heard a quacking sound.  He strained his eyes.  A duck was nearing the pond. It slowed and began to land on the water.  The Hero was excited. The duck was in front of him! He took aim, shot, and missed because he was shaking.  He shot a couple of more times, but the duck got away.
The other fellows came over in a foul mood.  "Why were you shooting?  That was the lead duck, a scout. You should have waited until the flock began to settle in.  Now they won't be back.  Might as well go on home."
He came back home 3 hours later, cold and unhappy.  "Why didn't they stay with me or instruct me.  Tim should have known, I didn't know anything about duck hunting."
It wasn't the best experience, and the Hero never got to go hunting duck again.
Later, he raised ducks for the freezer on the farm.  He said it was a much better experience.

Sentimental Sunday... The Hero Continues to Encourage Others.

When the Hero pushed me to attend my 40th (no old people comments), little did we know it would have far- reaching affects on myself and others.
While we were there, I renewed an old friendship. This is good.  The class was auctioning items to help cover the cost of the reunion. (They are probably the closest class in the Edmond High School ever.) Two of the items were original paintings by my friend. He fell in love with them and won the auction for them.

This one of the painting he won. It is items from her life.

When he visited with her about them, he was saddened to learn she didn't have a great image of herself as an artist and her mother had discouraged her from pursuing her love.  This was just something she had started doing again. He told her, in his estimation, that her work was of great worth.  She should continue. He repeated to me when we got home that he hoped she would keep painting.  He had hoped to sell at least one painting to prove to her it had great worth.  Unfortunately, we found out about his cancer and that diverted his attention so he was never able to achieve his goal.  It was with gratitude, I received this letter this week. I have modified it to keep her family names out of it.  It would have made the Hero very happy to know.

Hi Fran, If this works, you should see included, a pic of the painting I took to my first granddaughter who lives in Colorado Springs.  I'm writing a story or series of stories to go w/ it.  My granddaughter loved it & sat right down & started naming the animals & making their sounds!  She's 19 mos.  I've got new granddaughter, her painting planned-a fish tank w/bright saltwater fish.  It'll be 22x26 same as the other one.  I think of your email informing the class of your husbands passing & the last part telling me he said to keep painting.  That was such an inspiration to me!!! I've been doing just that - thank u so much! Love u 

Sentimental Sunday... The Hero Had a Friend

Tonight instead of writing a personal story about the Hero, I am going to use something that recently happened to illustrate how others can verify stories told by a family member.
The Hero's twin brother is active in the alumni of their High School.  He was contacted by the developer of a website for their class.  When looking at it he was surprised that his brother was not listed among the deceased.  He contacted them.  They said if he would write an obit, they would put it on the site, and oh, by the way, we need a picture.  He contacted me for the picture, and used the obit written for the newspaper to compose his own eulogy for the Hero.
This last Thursday, he was at the Halloween party at my mother-in-law's assisted living home. I told him I couldn't the find the page online.  He assured me it was there and, oh, by the way, one of the Hero's old friends who was into conspiracy theories with him in High School, wrote on the page saying he was sorry to have missed the Hero.  I went back to email he had sent me, and was able to find it as well as the comment. Up to this time the only thing any of us knew about the Hero's High School days was what he had told us.  The man verified that the Hero was indeed someone who cared about his country as early as 15 years of age.  I am going to contact this person to see if he will write any stories about his and the Hero's journey in fighting for America and Freedom.
The Hero's twin brother called it conspiracy theories, I have seen what is happening and read books regarding the warnings given about Communism taking over America without a shot.  Nope, would not call it conspiracy theories, just pretty much what was happening.
The Web page for the Hero: http://www.westburyhshouston.com/class_profile.cfm?member_id=2992277
Hope this tells you to never quit looking for those who knew your family member before you knew them. 

Sentimental Sunday: Hero Takes the Lead in Geneology

Who was the first in the family to begin searching for their ancestors? Why the Hero of course.

He followed the correct methods of starting instinctively. He first sat down and wrote what he knew, his birth and what were his parents and his grandparents names. Then he went to his grandmother and asked her questions about where, who, and what she knew about his grandfather. Next he visited with his mother and asked about her family. He quickly had his four generations sheet filled out.

Next he began collecting stories and history behind his family. But life pressed in and he began to lose momentum. He told me all he knew and quit actively researching himself, but when I would say I had need of his help, he would assist me. He continued to visit his grandmother and take our daughters so they would know her. When she died, he was distressed because his father decided he didn't need to attend the funeral, but to stay and watch over the company while the rest of the family attended. It wasn't surprising when he said he needed to visit and view his grandparents and great grandparents graves in East Texas.
He had a great love and testimony of family. In fact, that was one reason I was chosen by him. He wanted a large family and wanted someone that believed in family too. I still work on his family for him and our children.  It is a need.

Sentimental Sunday The Hero Was a Romantic Who Sang

Lately a song has been running through my head reminding me of a tender time with the Hero.  He was such a romantic. From the time we dated until he left this world, he sang to me with great love.

There were many mornings I would be awakened by the Hero leaning over me on his elbow, singing "My Cup Runneth Over With Love." I would open my eyes to his loving glance, and slow smile. I can tell you the Hero had a  nice bass voice for singing.  It was a wonderful way to be awakened, a song, a smile, a kiss.  What more could one ask for.
I hope you are having a wonderful Sunday. I am listening to our church's conference today.  I am reminded we would never miss the conferences when he was living.  We were uplifted and filled with love for the Savior when attending.  I have a testimony that marriage is a wonderful thing.

Sentimental Sunday... The Hero and an Orange Bus story finished.

The rest of the story...
We started back to Texas from Vernal, UT.  The Hero was stressed because it had taken so long to get the bus running that he was 2 days late starting back.  His decision was to not stop.  That he would drive as far as he could then I would drive and vice versa.  I figured sure why not. 
As we dropped down to moved off the mountain roads to Interstate 70 in Colorado,  the Hero advised me to lie down with the baby.  He would drive as long as he could.  This was not unusual, so I went to sleep with the baby.

Eisenhower Tunnel Colorado

I am not sure how long I slept, but I was a wakened by the sound of big trucks, and motorcycles, and flashing lights.  I sat up and saw what I heard flying by our VW bus.  I was overwhelmed. "What is happening? I feel like I am in a Start Trek movie at warp speed." I called to the Hero in the front. 
He started laughing.  "We are in the Eisenhower Tunnel.  I am gearing down to keep from going too fast." 
I felt like I had just entered panic mode.  (I will digress here and explain an old VW bus's brakes.  Not so hot.  We did not have power disc brakes.  This was a do it yourself-er. I tried to find an explanation on the internet, but failed.  Suffice it to say, our main holding brake system was the emergency brake.  Oh that is another story... shifting on a hill.)
I was now wide awake and shifted up to sit by the Hero in front.  Panic set in that our baby was in the back asleep on the bed and we were plummeting down this tunnel.  I could not see an opening ahead.  The 18 wheelers were petrifying me.  I was amazed at how in control the Hero was.  He concentrated on the keeping the speed within manageable range by downshifting.  He did not ride the brakes as I would have.  I do have to say, he had driven big Mack trucks for their cement company, so he was familiar with using gears.  On the other hand, he had not driven in the mountains in a truck. 
Finally after what seemed forever, we came out of the tunnel.  The road evened out and I could breath.  Now I am thankful for the tunnel it makes travel easier, at that time I was not so sure.  I thought it was insanity.
When we arrived at Denver, the Hero was exhausted.  I was not well rested (no duh), so we found a rest stop to pull over at and slept for the rest of the night.

It was fine, and he was my Hero.

Sentimental Sunday... The Hero another Orange Bus story

Hummer's Orange Bus Scrapbook page.

Our church, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, has a program called home teaching.  The men of the church are assigned families to visit and assist in spiritual teaching as well as any other needs their assigned families stand in need of.  The Hero felt very privileged to be a home teacher and took his assignment very seriously.  One of his assignments was a young man in his twenties who joined the church, but no one else in his family was a member.  The Hero liked the young man's family and made friends with them while visiting.  The young man went off on a mission for 2 years, but the Hero kept writing him and visiting his family to support them.  At the end of 2 years the young man came back and soon he was getting married.  The young girl's family was from Salt Lake so they decided to be married at the Salt Lake Temple.  The Hero and I were invited.  We were broke, had 3 children, worked, but the Hero said we are needed because the young man's family will need a familiar face and support since they will not be able to go into the Temple. 
We farmed our 2 oldest children in Oklahoma at my parents, and took our little son with us.  We were clueless how we would  find a babysitter.  Just after we passed Colorado, we heard a funny noise from the back of the bus.  The Hero investigated, and came back with the news that one of our bearings was going out.  If we drove carefully, we should make the trip to Salt Lake, but would have to repair it before starting back.
We made it to Salt Lake.  The wedding was beautiful and the family was lovely. I can not tell you more about that because the week after stands out more in my mind. 
When the wedding was over, the Hero called the repair shops in Salt Lake... Saturday afternoon, everything was closed.  He called the young man who had taught us about the church and now lived in Vernal.  Wayne knew a shop in Vernal who could fix the car and we could stay with his family until it was fixed.  That excited us both. What a fun thing to do.  I loved it because I learned how to dry apples on a screen out in the sun, and met the loveliest people. 
Monday came, the Hero went to the foreign auto shop and came back disgruntled.  They did not have the bearings and did not work on VW's.  On the other hand they were nice enough to order the bearing for him.  He would have to put them on himself.  This was tricky for two reasons.  Our trip had just been extended another two days... his employer was trying to be nice, and he had never put on bearings by himself ever.
They arrived the next day, he jacked up the rear of the car and proceeded to remove the wheel and the old bearing, keeping in mind all the steps so he could put it back together. 
Things went well with the first wheel...(he said you need to replace both sides at the same time) then a disaster happened on the second one.  First, he dropped the bearing in the sand (we were at a logging company area) and second he had hit it wrong slightly bending the rim knocking it into the sand.  Wayne's brother got him a bowl of gasoline to clean the bearing with.  When I got the baby down to sleep, I took a diamond deb fingernail file and began to slowly smooth out the rim, and sat visiting with him to calm him down.  Yep, he was upset.  At about 1am, I had the rim smoothed to where the ball bearings moved correctly.  The Hero was able to apply the bearing, and was able to fall on the bed in a relaxed sleep.
He said I was his peace and calming force.  Next week I will share with you the trip home.

Sentimental Sunday... The Hero and an Orange Bus story

The first experience the Hero and I had of desert like weather was when we went to Arizona to visit.  It was mid to late May.  In Texas it was already very warm to hot.  We packed accordingly.  It was before the days of internet checking weather. 

While we were there, we visited the Grand Canyon with his sister, and a some ghost towns. It was cold at the Grand Canyon and we had to borrow coats to when we explored.

The Hero with daughter #2, a niece, daughter #1, nephew and moi.

Our time visiting the Hero's sister was wonderful. The time in Mesa was wonderful. Then, it was time to go back home. We made our plans to go through the Painted Desert and Petrified Forest on the way back.  We wanted to see as much as we could because a trip was a premium item for us.  After fond good byes, we headed back toward Texas.  The trip through the Painted Desert was hot and dry.  I look back now and think why didn't I take pictures of the family with the landscape.  Books with pictures of the Painted Desert landscape are readily available in stores and on the internet. My family at the Painted Desert is not there and won't be, because I took a picture of what the desert looked like. Take a lesson from me and make memories that count. 

The trip through the Painted Desert took longer than we anticipated.  We looked at the map and recognized that it was too far to make it to a camping ground that evening.  At the end of the Park gates was a large parking area, we pulled over, ate supper, and read stories until the girls fell asleep.  The Hero, sat his table outside on the ground next to the van so we could make the girls bed on the floor and we could sleep in the back.  It got chilly and we ended up with all of us snuggled on the bed.  The Hero woke up first, and began to clean up the sleeping gear so I could make breakfast.  He discovered it was COLD (a note here, it was cold but not freezing, however the Hero thought anything below 70 was freezing, lol).  He opened the door, then closed it quickly.  His decision was that we were driving on to find a place to go to the bathroom and eat breakfast.  I started dressing the girls as he drove.  From the front of the van about a half an hour down the road I heard.... "Oh no!"  I responded with "What is wrong?"   (Head slap) "I forgot to pick up the table.  It is sitting on the side of  the road."   Deep sigh from the Hero, "I guess, I'll have to make another."
Another lesson.  Don't rush off from your camp, you will always forget something. 

Sentimental Sunday... The Hero and a Spider Bite

Grandchildren, I will digress from our orange bus stories to tell you a story of our spider bite anniversary.  The story came to mind when we were talking about spiders in the T's room.  I was telling her about her mom's spider bite... that will be for another story.  Discussing it with Em, brought to mind the story of the Hero not telling me about a spider bite. 

I keep essential oil at all times. The spider picture came in an email, no person to attribute to, the bite is in keeping with what the hero's bite looked like when I first saw it, the map is from National Atlas

We had planned for several months on going to Oklahoma for  our anniversary.  I wanted to find my great grandfather B D Langley's grave in Frisco, OK and visit the Cherokee Heritage Center in Tahlequah, Oklahoma.  The first mission was accomplished and I will blog about it at another time.  We headed on to Tahlequah for the Heritage Center. 
When we arrived, the Hero said his leg hurt.  I thought he meant from tramping around the hilly graveyard.  No, I found out that evening (6PM of course on a Friday night) that he meant his leg HURT.  I looked at the area he was talking about and my head spun with "what do I do with this?"  I asked him if anything had bitten him.  He said that he had felt a bite two days before at the office.  He had looked under his desk and saw a small spider. The bite had not looked to be anymore than a small red dot, so he had forgotten about it.  Well, when I finally saw it, the color of the skin was purple reddish with a black necrotic (dead tissue ) area in the center, swollen and a red streak starting up his leg from the bite.  Big sigh.  It looked like a brown recluse spider bite. (I was a RN at the time).  It was too late to go to the pharmacy, actually everything was closed in the small town by that time. We did not have insurance to go to the hospital, which he wouldn't have done anyway.  I was his nurse, I should fix it.   I racked my brain for a home remedy I could use to stop the apparent infection that was starting.  Looking in my bag, I found 3 essential oils, lemon, clove, and lavender.   I had some alcohol, and band aids. I had a needle and tweezers.  Big sigh.  First, I put clove oil around the bite to reduce pain (it helped), then I scrubbed the area with warm soapy water.  After cleaning it, I took the needle and tweezers and began to debride (take off the dead tissue) the wound.  Yes, it was painful and he was awesome at handling it.  After I had removed most of the dead tissue, I cleansed it again, applied clove oil and then lavender oil followed by olive oil to the wound to protect it, the put on a band aid. I applied lemon oil diluted with olive oil to the red streak down towards the wound.  He took three asprin and fell asleep. 
The next day it looked better, but we repeated the steps above.  This continued for the rest of the trip.  It did not stop us from enjoying the Cherokee Heritage Center and exploring the surrounding areas.  We loved Eastern Oklahoma.We loved being together.
When we got home five days later, the area was scaring, but the red streak was gone.  I talked him into going to see our family doctor.  The doctor was a friend of mine and said "good job, but let's do one round of antibiotics just in case."  The scar never went away, but we had been able to prevent a horrible infection with awful consequences that I have seen with Brown Recluse Spider bites.  I found out later, if we had had raw garlic that that would have worked too. I used it with my children later and it worked like a charm.  Useful knowledge when you live in an area inundated with spiders.  (Funny note:  your uncles will use the garlic, they will not use the essential oils. )  : P  Hope you never have a problem like this, but it is good to have a bag of home remedies that you can fall back on just in case.

Sentimental Sunday... The Hero and the Orange VW Bus

To my knowledge the only picture we have of it.

The vehicle the Hero bought for our beginning family was an Orange Volkswagen Bus.  It had been converted inside by the previous owner to have a "bed" in the back.  We traveled frequently to Oklahoma to see my parents and TexasBlu would end up in a makeshift bed in the back seat of our car (back in the day before seat belts).  She loved lying and reading her books, so he wanted her to be comfortable. Thus the Bus with a bed in the back.  : )
The other reason he bought the Volkswagen was that he had heard they were extremely easy to work on. (Rolling eyes, not sure who was the source of that information).  His dad had never taught him how to work on a car.  They just always sent it to a garage to get fixed.  He decided, given our financial situation,  he needed to learn to work on his car himself.  Wa-la, easy to fix VW.  We were blissfully ignorant of our life to come.
First, no one worked on VW's except VW dealerships or specialized garages. Expensive.

This is similar, but it seemed the one we had was a lot tighter in the area. 

Second,  The bus, he found out, was not like the basic VW.  It had a Porsche engine with dual carburetors.  He found out he had to check the battery fluid.  Hmmm.  Where was it... oh yes, down under the carburetor and to the back... He had to buy a special mirror to be able to view it.  Just things like that...
Third, it was a stick shift.  Oh lots of experiences with that.   
Well, this was a preview.  He had many stories come out of owning the VW bus and had a love/hate relationship with it for years.  For the next few weeks, I will be writing the Orange Volkswagen Bus Adventures, or how the Hero learned to be a mechanic. ; )

Sentimental Sunday... The Hero and Memorial Day

The Hero was proud of having served as a medic in the 4005th Army Medical Corp. He never missed any of his Reserve meetings and loved serving, missed us; but loved serving during the summer.  A favorite story of the family about the Hero was when I was delivering our 4th child.  It was a long labor, and I was really tired.  My doctor, Robert Campbell,  had served in Viet Nam War as a medic and then finished his medical degree while in the army.  There they were "coaching" me (yeah right), I was drifting in and out with labor pains, and they were swapping medic stories.  I would reach up and pat his hand and say...'Hey, a little help here.'  They would laugh say a few encouraging words, then go back to their stories.  (I still laugh about it.) You have to love them.
His father and grandfathers before him could not serve because of health reasons.
When we were studying his mom's ancestors, he was excited to find in the 1840's two of his ancestors fought and died in the Mexican War.  During the Civil War, his great great grandfather fought for the South.  He unfortunately caught typhoid and died in 1864. 
He was fascinated with the whys of war and the dynamics of war.  I have told you when we went to the Genealogy Libraries together, he would find a book to study the how and why things happened.  I am just learning that side of genealogy. 
When the National Anthem would start, he would be one of the first on his feet with a salute.  When the Pledge of Allegiance was said, he would sound out loud and clear with his  hand over his heart. He was a patriot. He believed in his country and all it stood for.  If he had been asked to, he would have fought for it.
Grandchildren, your granddadE upheld our country and your ancestors fought battles for our country to leave you a better place to live in.  Don't take it lightly.

Sentimental Sunday... The Hero One Example of His Compassionate Side

I have so many stories to tell you of his compassionate side. Tonight I will share with you one of the sweetest things I think he ever did.

My father went through a terrible time when he had a major heart attack.  He had a personality change that took him from a loving father figure to the Hero to a terrorizing father-in-law who one time got out a shot gun and threatened the Hero with it. We understood that heart attacks can cause awful personality changes.  It did not make it any easier to live with. I tell you this so you will realize how special his action was.



 Near the end of my father's life, he spent close to 6 weeks in the hospital with drugs that kept him bed fast. We would stop by at night on our way from work to see him and check on how my mom was too.  One night, when we arrived my dad kept trying to convey to us something, finally the Hero figured out it was that he had soiled himself.  We rang the bell, and no one came.  The Hero proceeded to clean my father like a baby. He was so gentle and careful to not embarrass him at all. My eyes still tear up at the scene,  because I know how hurt the Hero had been by my father, for him to be so loving.  It must have reached my father too, because the night before he died, he called home and asked for the Hero to come the next day. Little did we know.

Sentimental Sunday... The Hero's Birthday

Forgive me for just pausing to wish a Happy Birthday to the man who blessed my life for so many years.  We laugh, played, cried, and worked hard together.  It is the day I celebrate that he was born to be my Hero. 

glitter-graphics.com

Sentimental Sunday...The Hero Got to Share.

When the Hero was about 2, his mother said his twin
was diagnosed with Rickets Disease.  At the time the treatment for a child was cod liver oil.  In her mind, if it was good for one, then the other would do well with it too, so, they both got cod liver oil daily. 
Must have worked because neither had bone challenges as they grew.
Wonder what his memories of the taste of cod liver oil was?  We never used it, maybe that's why.?
I know our first daughter won't touch anything that has to do with a fish...just wondering...do you think that would be passed on in the genes?  Interesting thought.  Glad it wasn't me, I only had cod liver oil once because my cousins and I ate half a red wagon full of raw corn.  Not as pleasant memory.  Don't think my aunt meant it to be.  Ah life is full of memories.

Sentimental Sunday The Hero's Favorite Food

I was fixing lunch for my sister-in-law.  She said I will eat a peanut butter jelly sandwich.  That brought a memory back.
The Hero LOVED peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. He used to "bug" me, because I would make a 'gourmet' meal and what would he do?...He would have to make a peanut butter jelly sandwich afterwards or the meal was not complete. I would say "I am so insulted, I worked so hard on this meal and you don't think it tastes good without a peanut butter sandwich."  Then I would pout and he would give me a smile, a kiss and finish his sandwich. For him, a meal was just not done until you had a PBJ.
I wish I had a picture of him with a PBJ. He had a special technique for making his PBJ sandwich. 
The first step was to put butter (real butter) on the bread.

The second step was to add the peanut butter.

The third step was to add jelly.

The final step was to eat it all up.

Our grandson decided that butter definitely added a great "eatable" flavor.
Which would you prefer? With or without butter?

Sentimental Sunday The Hero and Our First New Years Eve

The first year we were married, I was in college and the Hero worked.   At the end of my fall semester, my mom and dad came and took me to visit with them.   The plan was for the Hero to come up to Oklahoma for New Years, then we would come back home to Texas. 

He and I were filled with excitement and anticipation the morning of New Year's Eve.  It was the first time we had been separated since we were married.  We talked at noon and he said they were closing, and he would leave as soon as he picked up his clothes at home.  It was in the days before cell phones.  I figured out how long it would take him.  It was in the days before the Interstate highways were built.  The roads were two lanes, and fraught with small towns and stop lights. [Thought since it was about archaic times, I would use an archaic term. ; ) ]   I expected him about 11 pm, but at 6:30pm he called and said he was sick.  He had nearly passed out on the road and was startled into alertness by a truck honking at him as he veered across the white line.  The best choice was for him was to check into a motel and sleep until morning.  We were so disappointed, and I was worried. 
My father took pity on us. He packed me in the car to go and get the Hero.  At 8:30 pm we picked the puny looking Hero up and started home.  Since the Hero was not holding things down on his stomach, (my nice way of putting it.) my father decided it would be best if I drove his car and he drove the Hero in the Hero's car.  With a few stops on the way, we found ourselves winding through the Arbuckle Mountains at 11:50 pm.  My father signaled to pull over at a rest stop.  We waited until Midnight. I got to give the Hero a kiss for our First New Year.  An embrace was exchanged with the kiss and then we proceeded to my father's home.  It was so worth the drive.  I was grateful to my father for his thoughtfulness and it was a memory worth keeping.
This next month I will be helping the Hero's sister.  She has sustained an injury to her foot and will not be able to take care of herself for a while.  I am sorry she is hurt, but...(wiggling eyebrows) I am excited about spending time hearing early Hero stories. ; )  

Sentimental Sunday, The Hero was St Nicholas

The Hero loved Christmas, and he loved little children.  One of my favorite stories around the Hero is the fun he had as he grew older and his hair turned silvery white.  He always wanted to be Santa at a Christmas party, but they always chose an older man. 
He would laugh and say I was named after St Nicholas, so I should be able to play him at the party,alas, that was not to be his roll.  Instead, his role was much more fun and out in the community.
The Hero let his beard grow out and wore red clothes during the December months, especially after one encounter he had. 

  We were at Fazoli's restaurant having lunch. The Hero had on his red shirt and red parka (did I mention he was extremely cold natured...50 degrees and out came the parka...lol).  He had gone up to the salad condiment area and a little girl about 5 years old walked up to him and started to explain what the condiments were and how to use them.  He was amused and smiled while she talked, then she pointed at her family's table and explained to him, that was her little brother and he was 1.  She went on to tell him that she had been really good. The light went on.  He realized that she thought he was Santa from the North Pole.  He told her thank you for the information and explained she needed to go back to her mommy. 
He then came and sat down with a big smile telling me all about what had transpired.  He was delighted.  As the mother and children got up to leave, the little girl looked over at our table and waved.  He couldn't help himself.  He winked.  She smiled so big and skipped out the door.  She had a story to tell her mom.
To prove the theory that the Hero looked like Santa, I pulled the Hero's picture up to show our grandson who had spent 2 years with his grandpa and knew him well. The picture did throw him...after looking and considering, he stammered...is that Santa?  There you have it. What do you think?
The Hero was St Nicholas personified.  I won't tell you at this time all the wonderful acts of kindness he performed through the years suffice it to say, he loved others.

Sentimental Sunday How the Hero Got His Nickname

I have had some ask me what the Hero's name is.  I have to confess the reason I had not used his name is he had a fear of identity theft. 
I will share with you how he got his nickname. 

Picture Property of Hummer

The Hero was a twin.  He was the first born although the smallest and received his dad's name Edward Nicholas.  His twin was called T Richard (He is still very much alive, so I will refrain from using his full name.)  MomE wanted to call them "Nick and Dick"  After some thought and discussion with DadE...it was declined (she always giggles after telling this) so, she chose to call them Ned and Ted.  He liked Ned, but it irritated him that no matter how he said it, half the time they thought he said Ted.  He would sigh and say, I would have preferred Nick.  Near Christmas, I will share with you why. ; )
So now you know how he came to be called Ned instead of Edward.

Sentimental Sunday The Hero and Plumbing

We lived in Houston for the first few years of our married life.  The first house we bought was a small 2 bedroom house in the Heights, with an enclosed back porch, and an unattached garage.

My dad was a frequent visitor as he was disabled (remember he broke his hip on his amputated leg).  We turned the back porch into a guest bedroom for him. There was one problem. He did not like coming through our bedroom to get to the only bathroom, so the Hero decided to fix him a shower and toilet in the workshop in the garage.  He could then just walk out to the bathroom without coming through our room.  This sounds easy enough.  The Hero worked hard and got everything installed in time to proudly show it to my dad the next time he came to visit. 
The next morning the Hero and I left for work. That evening on arriving home, I found my dad in a bit of a tizzy.  Yes, that is a good word for it.  My daughters loved on him and he was better after a bit, so I asked what happened during the day.  "Well," says he, "I went out to my bathroom to go to the potty.  Sat down and not a second later I was being showered by hot water.  I had to 'jump up' and escape."  (I started to smile.) "It wasn't funny.  I couldn't get my pants up very fast and I got soaked!"  (I had tried to keep a straight face, now I giggled.)  "Oh, all right, I know it sounds funny, but it is a good thing the Hero wasn't here or I would have gotten him for sure!"
Of course, you know, that he was lying in wait for the Hero when he got home.  First thing the Hero heard when he walked in the door was "You soaked me in the garage bathroom!"

He was baffled. "What are you all talking about?"  After the story was told, he went out to the garage to investigate what had happened.  He came in with sheepish look on his face and said, "I guess I forgot to glue that joint after I checked to see if it would fit. Sorry."
My dad wasn't a harsh person, but he never let the Hero forget that he had not glued the pipe and when repairing the plumbing on the farm he would say, "and this is how you glue the pipes."  ; )
We would all laugh.
Grandchildren, while your granddadE was not proficient in plumbing, he was able to learn to do the basics and always tried to grow in knowledge.  Never be afraid to learn something new.
Love you.

Sentimental Sunday The Hero and The New Baby

The Hero always tried to keep a sense of humor when things were not as he thought they should be.  When our 4th child was born, it was a particularly long labor, and we were concerned.  Of course I am not really sure if the Hero and the doctor knew it was a long labor because they amused themselves swapping army stories across my bed as I experienced the back labor.  LOL
Back to the Hero.  When I was finally close to delivery, the doctor had to push the baby back up the birth canal to reposition its head.  That wasn't pleasant.  It had been back labor because the baby's head was positioned wrong. 
After he repositioned her, she was born in 3 minutes.  I was ecstatic and the nurse was also.  My baby girl was beautiful and she was in my arms!  While the Hero was happy too, he couldn't resist a bit of humor.  "Oh, my," he said,"she looks like she's been hit in the head with a brick."  (Because of her position, the frontal skull was pressed down and the back was pushed up.  Just in case you didn't know.)

He laughed for years as he would tell about how he had thought the nurse was either going to murder him or toss him out on his head.  Rightly so, Milly was beautiful.