Scenic Pictures - Sentimental Sunday story

I have a rule that when I with family on a trip that the scenic pictures always has a family member(s) in them. That way the scene means something later when viewed by later generations (needs name and place on back still. 😉).

However, there are times that a picture maybe taken of an object or thing without a person and to you it will mean great memories. To others without a story, it may get tossed to the wayside and why did they take that picture. I have two such pictures and will proceed to write the stories behind them for future generations to enjoy.

The first picture involves my dad and my Hero, Ned. 

When we first moved to the "farm" (6.7 acres) we had a small barn, chicken pens, and a pig pen, and rabbit hutches. We were as my father-in-law put it, gentlemen farmers; meaning the Hero worked in Houston then he and my dad built stuff on the weekends. After clearing much of the brush and small trees in the back, my dad was worried of losing trees.  As he was sitting next to the barn watching his chickens, he as he liked to do, he noticed a small pine seedling sprouting in the barnyard. 

Not the actual seedling, but exactly like it.

He decided it would be a fine addition there to give shade to his critters. Picking up a stick he fashioned a stake and stuck it in the ground to protect it from foot damage so we would know it was there. The Hero thought that was a great idea too. So as the pine grew, so did the stake, thus everyone would know it was a choice tree. 

40 years later both of my men are gone, but I imagine occasionally they might look down and say that is a fine tree.  It turned out it is a Loblolly Pine and is beautiful. Every time I pull in at home and park, I face it.  I remember the years of protecting it and the care the two men did to make sure it survived to be the tree it is now. 

Actual tree 2019, 40 years later.

The other landscape picture is of a road going to our home. We used to call it the tunnel. Everyone knew that when we arrive at the “tunnel” that home was just a short way down the road. We loved the oaks and pines that covered the road and that you could see light at the end of the tunnel.

As the children would say..."Almost home"...

There were many stories about that area of the road. The the road was an iron ore road that had to be graded by a road grader. 

For my grands: a 1960s grader (like the one on our road) 

The grader would not smooth the road out after his first pass and it would leave the surface like a washboard. 

For my grands: a washboard women used to wash their clothes...remind me to tell you a story about that.

You would drive down it and feel like your teeth were chattering. The worse time was when I was expecting my 4^th child and every time we drove over it I would exclaim “slow down!” The Hero would smile or even (added injury) giggle and say won’t help. My body parts did not agree, but it was what it was…miserable. Everyone was excited when they finally decided to blacktop the road (wish I had written the date down).

The tunnel is gone now due to development. New owners decided they needed a clear view of the road, but the random picture I took one day to remind my children of home, still survives. I am so glad I took it. When they see it, they still think home. That is why there is a picture of a tree tunnel in my picture box.

Write the stories. Grandchildren will love them and they can pass them down to theirs.

Sentimental Sunday A Hero Story...Love At First Sight

I have told my story many times to others, but it is usually in conjunction with being a college student and trying to work full time.

I had just moved to Houston from St Ann, Illinois where I had been living and working with my best friend. I had decided I wanted to go back to college and finish. Now, I had only gone to one semester at the local college where I lived in Oklahoma, while living at home. I suffered a heart break and my best friend said come up and live with me to get away from it all. I was working for SW Bell telephone as an operator, so it was easy to transfer. We had a lot of fun.
My mom and dad encouraged me to go back and finish college. I started researching places to go for a Nursing degree, and the best one was in Houston. My best friend was up for an adventure and decided to move to Houston with me.
We got there. She had been able, if memory serves me well, to transfer with her skills. I on the other hand found there weren't any openings with the telephone company in Houston. The college posted jobs available in the area. One was to be an all night checker at the Methodist Hospital cafeteria. I guess they catered to students, because I got the job even though I had never worked as a checker before. It was a lot easier getting a beginning job back  in the day. I often now feel like it was meant to be. My thoughts were how hard can it be? I can work all night, probably get some study in, and then go to school during the day. I can do this.
Ahmad was training me. He was quitting, so he was training me to take his place. The first night I was in training, Ahmad had a huge group of friends come in during his break time to visit. The Hero was among them. He was home on leave from his Army Reserve Training.

My handsome hero

As I sat there, I just listened to the conversation flow. The Hero was asking Ahmad for help because his wife had filed for a divorce on him the 2nd month of his training. At one point, our eyes met and held. I was mesmerized. Later in life we reminisced about our first meeting. He said he thought my eyes were so pretty and he wanted to know me, but at the time, his thoughts were on his crumbling marriage.  I remembered being caught up in the moment in his eyes and wondering, how could I ever date a divorced man. Neither of us ever forgot the moment that everything else faded away and our eyes were locked.
It would be 2 months later before we dated, and a year later before we married, but the love was there. He hesitated fearing to be hurt again. I was not ready to hesitate, and never let go. He laughed and said on our first date I was the most forward girl he ever met... Okay, I told him I was going to marry him and have his children...not the most subtle way to let a man know you have chosen him.
It all worked out and we had our forever marriage sealed in the Mesa Temple...and ya'all have been hearing about the rest of the story.
Sometimes, not always, hearts touch each other through the eyes. I am glad ours did.

Sentimental Sunday ~ Memory of A Great Trip

One fall, the Hero and I were driving our daughter to Utah for her fall college semester.  We decided to go through Taos, New Mexico area because none of us had ever been in that area before and the scenery promised by brochures was going to be great.

We stopped at an out of the way group of bungalows before we got there.  It was an awesome place. There weren't any electronics, or phones, no outside world at all.  Our son was with us too. He was so excited no one could interrupt with a phone call.  We and a wonderful time visiting; they had games too and the kids went for a short hike. (nope no pictures...silly me, but no smartphones back then either.) Short digression here, I asked my daughter if she remembered and I am giggling over her answer:  "Yes, I remember him going on and on about how quiet it was... he wouldn't be quiet.... it was lovely and I remember the cold creek out behind it."...

When we left to continue our journey, we were relaxed and filled with happiness.  The trees were breathtaking and the air was so clear as we drove in the mountains. The Hero gave way to our request to stop at the first scenic pull over in spite of a tight schedule. It was so beautiful looking down through the trees.

We saw these. This is from a brochure.

picture from the area on Wikipedia

 Away from the world and all its cares, my daughter turned on the Enya "Watermark" album for her and myself to dance our best joyful uninhibited interpretation of the music.  We were having so much fun. Our son and the Hero, just leaned back on the rocks and smiled.  They knew we were silly.  

Our reverie was interrupted by a car pulling in behind us and an older Native American gentleman got out.  We quickly turned down our music, when he approached us.  I guess we were expecting a scolding for so much noise.  Instead, we were surprised when he said  "I have not stopped here for many years and enjoyed the scenery.  When I saw you dancing with so much joy, I had to stop. I remind myself now, that I should take the time to enjoy what is here. Thank you for reminding me."  

We never know how we are going to affect someone else. This man was uplifted by our joyous dancing and he reminded us that one should not ignore the beauty around us as we become busy in life.  

The rest of our trip was filled with a feeling of happiness.  We deposited our daughter at BYU and then drove back home on I70 through Colorado. The choice to drive up the scenic way was one of the best we ever made.  

I am glad I am writing this because my daughter had forgotten our dancing in the woods..,

Don't forget to stop and smell the roses... one of my favorite sayings.  J

Sentimental Sunday ~ The Hero Took Naps.

Sundays were the day the Hero's family would gather together.  It might be just to go by and visit the grandparents, or, it could be to celebrate a holiday or birthdays.  The Hero and his twin brother tended to eat as they did when young, and the end result was they found a place to rest afterwards and we would find them asleep somewhere.
This scrapbook page was at their sister's. They had gone into the den away from everyone, and either bored each other to sleep, or were watching a game on television. I don't remember why, but finding them both asleep was funny.

Sentimental Sunday: The Hero and His First Born

Haven't written a Hero post in a while. Have had some thoughts, but still mulling over several.
This is for the Hero's first born child.

When she was born, the Hero was the first to hold her because I had been drugged by the medical staff so that I slept 5 hours after the birth. Last time that happened.

Back to my story. The Hero frequently would relate to others that his whole life changed the day he held his first child. He said she was pink and perfect.  He was in love head over heels.
She could lead him around with just a smile.

He loved playing with her, reading to her, and she went everywhere with us.  

The first time he had to leave her when he was a US Army Medical Reservist, was excruciating for him. He called. He wrote. He didn't want her to forget him.

Over the years he became wise enough to know a separation did not mean she would forget him, but it was not something he liked either. When she became a woman and went off to college, he was the one who made business trips up to check on her. He would call and check on how things were going. When she came home, he hired her in the office because he believed in her and trusted her work. She never failed him.

It was hard for him to trust the man she chose to marry, not because he was bad or would do bad to her, but because he found it hard to trust that anyone could love and care for her more than he could. (the dad ego). He actually loved the young man very much.

Then came the day that they moved very far away, and his heart broke. He wouldn't be able to visit like he did at home. It was before cell phones like we have today, so calls would be limited. The desire to still be part of her life was very important to him. When her children had special events, he would fly up to be there. There was only enough money for him to go and there was a religious reason it be him. I was okay with it.  
The day came he felt it was time for him to move on from where we were. He spent many hours looking at places near to where she lived. Alas, the feeling he was ready to move on, did not mean moving closer to her, but time to leave this life. We never moved.
6 months before he died, he had just finished chemo therapy, and they said he had gone as far as they would treat him. He was afraid he would not see her or her children again, so he planned at trip for us with our other daughter to drive up to visit.

He loved every minute with them and seeing her. He was so afraid that they would think him a grouchy old man and not remember how much he loved them.
Unbeknownst to us, he had developed gangrene in the area of his treatment and was in tremendous pain the entire time of the trip.  I had to take him into the hospital when we got home. It was the beginning of the end.
Somewhere along the way he had told her that she didn't need him anymore.  I think she took it as a rejection.  I troubled over it for a while, but I have come to the conclusion that he meant that, she had accomplished being her own person. She didn't need him in his mind, like he needed her. He had to let her go.  
The last few days of his life were filled with happiness that she was coming to see him. We kept up with her movements by phone and watching the sky cams on the highways.  Sadly the weather slowed them down and they did not arrive until a day after he passed away;  It was the fulfillment of his feelings of not seeing her again, but his heart was glad that she tried.

Did he love her? Oh, yes!  With all his heart. 

The Hero Made a Difficult Decision: Sentimental Sunday

I am combining two memes today. One is Sentimental Sunday which I have done for years and the other is Blue Raspberry Sunday by Aine at Blue Raspberry Sky.

This is a sentimental look at a hard decision that the Hero made which affected our lives and fits both memes that have kept me blogging when it would have been easy to quit.


When the Hero and I first married, we lived in Houston. This was the Hero's birth city and where he fully expected to live out his days in.  I on the other hand was not a city girl and desired to go to the country.  My mom and dad lived in Oklahoma and we wanted them to move to Texas so we kept an eye out for them a small acreage of land.
Meanwhile, the Hero compromised with me and we moved to a rent house that belonged to his
dad's company in the outer suburbs (at that time) which qualified, for him, to be in the country.

The house was most people's dream. It had 5 bedrooms, 2 car garage, 2 1/2  baths,  fireplace, an office, and a swimming pool.

 I admit, it was not my dream. It was in the middle of a subdivision, although this is where I earned the title of snake killer.
About a year later, we discovered some property 6 acres with a house partially started for sale just 30 miles north of us in a small town.  They had their own school district, so it was perfect for my parents and would be close enough for us to visit frequently and the children to have a taste of country.  When my dad saw it he was excited, there was a shack on it that was called a cabin which he could live in while getting the house finished and then my mom could move on down.

He thought was a great idea.  It took us about 6 months to get all the paper work done and my dad moved down.  My baby was 18 mos old, and my oldest was just ready to finish 2nd grade. She adored our big home, her friends, and the status she had at school.
My dad of course began to populate the "farm" first before finishing the house. :D  I was not surprised.

The second weekend we went up to help him work on the house, the well had stopped, and he decided to pull the well casing and clean it with the help of some friends he had already made in the area.  The Hero was all excited about learning to fix things on his own and not having to pay a serviceman.  They worked hard, pulled the casing, and by the end of the day they were all exhausted.  That night, my dad got up in the middle of the night, and started belching and complaining of heart burn.  He was pale, but asked for coffee.  We got him some. He threw up, then commenced to collapse in the Hero's arms.  The Hero picked him up and put him in the car.  I got in the backseat and held my dad's head while the Hero drove 100 miles an hour down a two lane road to cover 20 miles in 15 minutes.  We never saw a policeman either. We got to the hospital and in the ER they said he had suffered a major heart attack (Myocardial Infarction).  My Hero gave him a blessing as there weren't any other Elders in the area to help. My dad made it through.
We knew we had a challenge on our hands.  My mother had already quit her job, and my dad was not going to be able to finish their house.  After much thought and prayer, the Hero decided (it had to be his decision)  we would move up to the "cabin" and live there to finish the house for my parents. That way I could help them during the week as my mom wouldn't be able to take care of my dad and the farm too.  This was a decision that changed our lives totally and affected all our children forever.  It was a shock to move from a 5 bedroom house with all amenities to a shack that sometimes would not have running water or a working bathroom.

 The Hero was a brave man to take on the responsibility.  He felt a sense of responsibility since he had paved the way for them to move from their home.  It took us another 2 years before we started a house of our own.  I know many times he wished maybe he had not done that and had decided to stay in the city.  He didn't though, and stuck it out to the very end.  There were blessings and I have to admit, some very hard times that shaped each life as a result. I was thankful for his strong character and devotion to family.

It all worked together for our good in some way. I hope the children feel the same way. 

The Hero Always Responded to a Request

I thought I had written this story, but it is not on the blog.
This week I had an event in my life that brought the blessings of knowing and having the Hero in my life.
Forgive the short rant.
I have been fighting a virus and my chest was hurting.  Low grade fever at night and aches all over, then I was left with left-side chest pain that hurt when I would breath deep.  No... I had not been coughing...in fact no mucus.  As most of you know, I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.  With in the church there is a Home Teaching program in which members of the church over see a family(ies) other than their own to teach, assist, give blessings too, an so forth.  My home teacher is a truck driver and out of town. So I asked another man I knew to give me a blessing. He said yes, then showed up at the Family History Center where I was working without someone to assist him, said he was just checking to see if I was there (?) and he would get back with me.  Never showed back up, and 24 hours later I received a call from another member who said the first member had texted him I needed to be seen.  REALLY!  What is happening with our world.  I am done... but so disappointed in the priesthood in our ward.
Now the Hero Story and why I find the above offensive.

Day our son was baptised. 

Once the Hero received the priesthood in our church, he took it very seriously as he should have.  No one had to remind him of his responsibilities, in fact, if he was ever your home teacher you continued as his family forever.  He was totally committed.
This is one case.  The Hero and I were awakened at 1am in the morning by a call.  I heard the Hero answer, and begin asking questions.  He put the phone down and immediately began dressing.  I was puzzled...
He told me it was a call from a young man he used to home teach and that he sounded like he had been drinking but there was something wrong. He was going to go and check on him.  I was like, if that is what you need to do.  He called back a few hours later from the hospital.  He had arrived and found the young man had tried to commit suicide.  He loved on the young man and he made a come back to a healthly life.  There wasn't any question of where he needed to be.
Another case he was tired after along drive from Houston to our home it was about 10pm, and received a call that someone needed a blessing he called a couple of members and found someone, went picked them up and they gave the person a blessing.
When he was sick, we called our home teacher and we met another member at a fast food restaurant where they gave him a blessing in the back seat of the car to help the home teacher from driving so far.
He was an exemplary priesthood holder. He taught his sons the same principles and they live up to the standards.  Geez, he would never have texted. To him it was all about live contact, phone calls and visits.  He respected those who were in his care and those who were in need.
In a way, this has not been all bad for me; I have taken the time to reread many of my Hero stories and remind myself of why I started blogging.  So, we would not forget the stories.

Sentimental Sunday A Hero Day

The Hero was a great dad.  He deserves a post today. 

Happy Father's Day my Hero. You are greatly missed.

Sentimental Sunday and 52 Ancestors Week 1

Combining two posts into one.  On Facebook Amy Johnson Crow shared her resolution and a new blog challenge. Her blog is No Story Too Small you can read about her challenge there.  I have decided to give it the college try.

As I was driving from church today, my thoughts went, as they often do, to my research.  I was thinking of how we start where we know and branch out from there.  My thoughts then went to my own descendants.  How cool is it that I have 23 desendants and one on the way!  Helps to have 6 children, number 6 hasn't started yet. I digress.  When my first grandchildren were little I wore a "Mother's birthstone children necklace". They loved to sit in my lap and play with the necklace and ask who the individual "children" were and loved finding how their parent fit in the family.  My # 18 grandchild accidentally broke it, and I am just getting around to fixing it.  My point is the grands learned who their aunts and uncles were.  Which brings me to my wonderful mother-in-law. She had the same type of necklace, but rarely wore it and there wasn't a lot of lap sitting around her house as she was always in the kitchen. 

 When she died, we were all dealing with the pain losing her. I know 93 years is a long time, but I was ready for 100.  My youngest son declined to go to the funeral or viewing. Since his dad died, he stays away from family gatherings.  He declines to talk about it.  Back to my point.  When the youngest son was sent the will as part of being his father's heir, he sat down and read the whole thing. Now that is awesome, but the awesome fun thing was when he came running into my room and said ... "I didn't know dad had two sisters".  Well blow me away.  Maybe mom should have worn her necklace more and held her grandson on her lap more.  Just sayin'... 

I inherited the Hero's mom's necklace at the top.

Basically she was not raised in a warm loving environment.  Her parents, were divorced when she was little, and she was sent to live with her grandparents who were quite elderly compared to a 3 year old.  They were stern, and they loved her, but there just wasn't any cuddling.  

Henry Reynolds, Mildred Vance, Martha Wells Reynolds

Her mom wasn't demonstrative, and her dad had a problem with drinking.  When I met her, it was a struggle for both of us, because I am a hugger, and she was a polite cheek pecker.  As the years passed, we became good friends, and she accepted my hugs.  I am so glad I was able to spend many hours staying with her when she had illnesses or surgeries, because I was able to capture many stories about it to share with my children.  A funny one she told when we were talking about disciplining children, was that, once she had been rude and unruly and ran from her grandmother.  Being elderly and slow, her grandmother wasn't able to catch her and she thought she had a triumph.  Later, she took a nap, and when she woke up she discovered, grandmother had tied her to the bed.  She was advised she would not behave like that again.  She said, she never did.  I guess that is a case of "I know where you sleep".  

I could write about her for hours, but I will leave more stories for another time. 

Love you mom... Miss you.

Sentimental Sunday ...The Hero Back Seat Driving

The Hero was always on the alert for my safety while I was driving... or maybe safety of the car????
He would sit in the shotgun seat and give alerts like there's a red light ahead, or watch out for that car.  Annoying right.  I do have to say there was an alert he gave that always sent me into a fit of giggles.
The area had been plagued by pine bark beetles.  The forest had lost acres of trees.  Thus when he would bark out the alert "Watch out for that pine bark beetle, as I rounded one of our road's 90 degree corners.  I would just start laughing.  I could visualize a beetle on the side of the tree in a state of horror or shock at the "close call" he had just had.
To this day, as I turn the corner going home, I will chuckle and remember "watch out for that pine bark beetle!" and smile.

Love those memories.

Sentimental Sunday, The Hero Was a Mischievous Boy

A story the Hero would often tell to remind himself of how boys are not always angels, was one between his mother and himself at about age 6.
It was a beautiful day for being outside.  The Hero had been playing in the backyard, but soon ventured into the front yard. After a little, he wandered across the street to the neighbor's yard.  After a while, he heard his mother calling his name.  Did he respond?  No, he shimmied up the front live oak tree.  Climbing up as high as he could to keep from being seen.
Soon, he saw his mother come out into the front yard calling his name and looking for him.  He said, "I don't know why, but I scrunched down more into the branches and didn't say a word."  She then came across the street and knocked on the neighbor's door.  He heard her ask if the neighbor had seen him.  They walked out right under the tree where he was and started looking up and down the street.
At this point, he was thinking it was funny they didn't see him, and began to snicker.  He couldn't hold it back, one snicker turned into full blown giggle.  His mom looked up and there he was...   We are left in the dark at this point, because he said, he didn't remember what happened after she found him.
What do you think happened?

Sentimental Sunday The Hero, A Young Son's Memory

We are in hurricane season.  My youngest son and I were discussing his memories of recovery and clean up he and the Hero participated in after Hurricane Katrina and Hurricane Rita.  They were part of the Mormon Helping Hands.   Before they left they were given on of the Yellow T-Shirts.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mormon_Helping_Hands

My son was telling me of unsafe antics that several of the older men were doing and how safety was not adhered to in his group.  I asked him if he remembered what his dad did?  He thought for a moment and said,
"He was a overseer or manager of sorts over several of the service projects and would drive around checking on them.  There was one home where a tree was held up off the house just by a window frame.  The men were standing around discussing how they could cut at this angle and remove that part, when dad came up.  He looked at the situation and said 'No, sorry, we can not do this job.  It is unsafe for the men and the people's house.  We would need different equipment than saws.  We will not do it. They will have to get someone with special equipment to do this.'  They were disappointed, but mom they couldn't have cut it with out the house being hurt without on of those big crane-like machines."
As I listened to him, I saw he was proud his dad was smart, thought things through, and didn't take silly chances.  (Of course, he wouldn't admit that.)
The Hero was proud to be a part of the recovery groups helping others getting back into their homes.  He was a Hero even then.
Happy Father's Day!

Sentimental Sunday A Hero Camping Memory

Memorial Day Camp out with the kids brought on many family memories of previous camp outs. 
It turned off chilly at night and we were laughing none of us had brought blankets for nighttime.  I said, "This reminds me of when I forgot to bring jackets when we camped out it Denver."  'No,' said the daughter, 'I remember that you took them out of the van after Dad had us put them in, saying "We won't need these."  Oh, all right, it was my stupidity that nearly gave us all pneumonia in July and the Hero is still the Hero.  You just can't rewrite history in this family.
Back to the story.  The Hero had planned a great trip for us through Colorado to Utah.  We were going to visit Leadville, because all of the family loved the movie "The Unsinkable Molly Brown".  His first words as we were packing were, "Make sure there are blankets and jackets."  I was rolling my eyes saying, "It is 100 degrees, I really don't think we will need those.  They take up too much room."  The kids dutifully brought down their jackets and stuffed them in the back.  When I was trying to organize the back of the van, they were just too bulky, so... Yep, I removed them quietly and took them back to the closets. 
We arrived in Colorado in the late afternoon somewhere off Hwy 24 at a camping ground. It was beautiful, a stream nearby. I don't remember where exactly just the general location. This looks like the approximate area.

Everyone was busy setting up the tent, and the fire for cooking.  Then the sun started setting, it was getting very cool. Dare I say more that a bit chilly.   Oh yes...  The Hero (this is the man who donned his red parka when the temperature dipped to 70 degrees in Texas) began looking for the jackets.  He searched, called the children to him to inquire if they had brought the jackets as told.  I had a flash back and sheepishly came forward saying.  "I took them out at home for more room."  It was a good thing that the Hero did not have the powers of Zeus, because I probably would have been struck by lightening and they would have warmed their hands over the coals.  Oh my.  He never let me live that one down.  "Don't forget to pack jackets like you did..."

Needless to say we all snuggled and crowded together that evening.  The next day, jackets were purchased.  Good thing he loved me...

The moral of the story is... Listen to someone who knows about the climate you are going to.

Sentimental Sunday The Hero Communicated

Now that the Hero has left this life, I find myself struggling to keep in touch with friends and family as he would have wanted me to.  I don't know how he did it.  I look at the list of friends, he would call and think there are not enough hours in the day. He would always know about their challenges, families, and would be offering to help.  He would check on his family (I was an only child or he would have been busy in my family too).  His mother and I were talking about how he would strive to call her several times a week if not daily. Our children have mentioned that they miss him greatly because he would call and check on them. That they missed running challenges and happiness by him.

I miss his calls to check on me during the day.  We were always in communication once cell phones came out, before that it was long distance to his work in Houston.
He kept in touch up until the last 2 days of his life with family and friends checking on them.   This was a blessing because he had been able to talk with our Idaho family and give them love. Because of snow storms, they arrived a day late to see him.  I am glad he liked to communicate.

The Hero used phones to communicate.

Sentimental Sunday; The Hero Respected Mothers

Our first daughter was born just after Mother's Day.  Did that stop the Hero?  No, not at all. He wrote a poem for me and bought me roses.  He was so excited about the birth of our first child.
As you know his birthday was on May 1, on his birthday he would always call his mother and thank her for being born.  We always went down to her house on Mother's Day with the family and to wish her a Happy Mother's Day.
He loved the stories of Mary in the scriptures, and thought of motherhood as a sacred duty.  I can not tell you how many times he would come to the aid of a some lady who had a challenge.  He still believed in Chivalry.
One of tenderest stories is when we had gone to visit my mom just after she had started living in the Assisted Living Home.  She had anxiety that was almost unbearable to be around, as well as depression.  I was terrible and had told her to sit down and be still so we could talk. She had been getting up and down. He looked at me and shook he head 'no', I quieted down.  He then looked at her and said 'Mary, would you like to be held?'  She nodded yes. He opened his arms and she sat down in his lap and he held her like a baby. She quieted down and relaxed so she could talk. When he died, she cried like a baby.  She knew that we had suffered a great loss.

He passed the teachings of treating a woman like a lady and a queen down to his sons, but that is for another story.
I remember his strong arms around me when I was sad or hurting.  His loving words when I needed to be uplifted.  He was everything I hoped for as a husband and father.  He was a white knight in shining armor.

Sentimental Sunday Celebrating the Hero's Birthday!

Last week was the Hero's birthday. He would have been 66 years of age.  It is hard to believe how time keeps moving.

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It was always our joke that he married a child... I was only 16, that is said with a wink.  He inherited a gene that made his hair begin to silver when he was 25.  By the time he was 30 he had heavy silver hair.  When we had our last son in our 40's, people would ask about his grandson.  It was a bane to him.  He was not ready for the early silvering.  I told him I hoped my hair would be as beautiful a silver as his when I began to grey... He would smile at me because he knew what I was trying to do.
Well, I will say it publicly today, Happy Birthday Hero, I know you are smiling and busy where you are now.  Miss you.
To all, hug your sweetie and tell them you love them.
Night.

Sentimental Sunday The Hero and Taxes

To begin with it is my daughter-in-law's birthday!  Happy Birthday sweetie! (they always drop by)

While visiting with my daughter about the date, and the fact it was normally the deadline date for taxes, she started laughing and pointed out this was usually the date the Hero would go do to the airport to mail the tax reports, because it was the latest pick up in Houston.  That brought back some memories.
The Hero had a terrible experience with the IRS early in his business career.  His trust level of the IRS remained low all his life.  I ended up always doing our personal taxes.  That is a separate story.
Working as a bookkeeper and as a comptroller for several companies, he would wind up with his tax reports on the last day for filing, or decided to file an extension.  He decided they had less chance of being audited if it was filed later in the year.  (That being said, he went through two audits that I know of and his books always passed with high praise from the auditor, and even received an official letter of praise from the State of Texas. )
Back to the trips.  He would work either at work or at home until it was the last minute we could make it to the air port, then we (I would ride with him always...  Is it any wonder my oldest daughter would worry something would happen and she would be left with her siblings to raise?)  would drive 1 hour to the Houston Airport and mail the report or extension at 11:30pm.
It was lonely today after my visit with my daughter, no Hero to talk about the fact they are trying to take away the Homestead Exemption Taxes in Texas.  He would have had at least one opinion if not a heavy long dissertation on why that would be wrong. I have heard them before. I miss those talks.
Well since it is a Sunday, IRS taxes due date has been extended to the 17th.  The Hero would have breathed a sigh of relief.
Hope you relaxed today.  I did. : )

Sentimental Sunday The Hero's First Gift To His Son-in-law

WooHoo guest blogger!

I first met the Hero when I had been courting his third daughter for roughly a month, and I was faced with an interesting opportunity. The Hero had traveled to Idaho from Texas for a baby blessing (twins!), and this would likely be my only opportunity to ask his permission to marry his daughter. The issue was that I didn't know yet whether or not I was going to ask her. The Hero took us to dinner at a Mexican restraunt, and we had a pleasant evening, as he tried to ask what my intentions were towards his daughter, and I tried to say I might marry her without saying it in her presence. To set the mood when we arrived, the Hero remarked to Fran (within earshot of the waitress, which I'm sure was intentional) "My mistress is going to leave me if she finds out I'm out with you again." This gave me some understanding of his personality.

The remarkable thing that will always stick with me was his reaction to my question about possibly marrying his daughter. I was expecting something like "How will you support my daughter?" or something similar. He never asked about that. I was surprised to be asked about my testimony and faith in Jesus Christ. That's what was important to him, and really all that matters. That's just who he was.

Sentimental Sunday The Hero Knew How to Underline a Statement

When we first moved to the country, our family had to really down size, from a 5 bedroom home to a 2 bedroom trailer.  We were stuffed into a very small WWII trailer.  The Hero did not like messy areas, and I was always so busy with everything other than the house, beginning a farm, helping my dad... Okay it is an excuse as well he knew too.
One Saturday, I had run in to town for something and when I got back he was fuming.  The house was a wreck, the children were wild, and he was tired from working two jobs.  I came in and he began to read me the riot act that I needed to pay more attention to our home and not run around.  At the end of his tirade, he slammed his hand on the table. The trailer floor was not solid so the table bounced up and down when he hit it.  I apologized for having been neglectful and said I would be more attentive to the house.  It wasnt mentioned again.
Years later, my oldest daughter was reminiscing with me and said her dad was forceful and browbeating!.  What?  I don't think so.  It came out she remembered the table bouncing when he hit it with his hand and he was yelling (actually talking very loudly).  It never dawned on either of us that the act of slamming his hand down would give her such an impression.  To us, we realized it was because of the spongy flooring, to her it was a measure of forcefulness to make a table bounce off the floor.
We all need to think of how an action would affect someone else.  This all came out after the Hero died.  I had to clear his good name.   

Sentimental Sunday The Hero Was Humble

Did you miss the Hero Story last week?  I did.  I forgot my own personal quote:"Sometimes you get so busy you have a hard time choosing which flower to smell...The trick is not ot allow things that are not essential to  block out that which is essential, so remember to STOP and enjoy the flowers filled with the sent of life." --The Hummer
This story was a painful one for the Hero.  It was not pain for himself rather pain for his child.
Have you ever been so upset and angered over someone's behavior you were ready to pick up and move?  This is where this event took the Hero.
Our son loved Boy Scouts.  He always looked forward to the yearly summer Scout Camp.  He had never had friends in his own troop, but at Camp he was able to make friends there.  His second year, we were apprehensive because some of the boys who were going had been ugly and physically abusive to him.
We trusted the leader and let him go.  When we picked our son up he told us that some of the young men had gone into his tent and had urinated on his sleeping bag, among other things.  He told us because he anticipated the boys fathers calling us, which they did.  However, the boys never apologized and the leaders never applied any disciplinary action other than telling the boys' parents.  They continued to assist them in getting their Eagle.

The Hero was incensed, he felt justice had not come forth for his son.  He went so far as to look into going 65 miles away to church, but our son said "No, dad, it is something I need to work out. We need to stay where we are supposed to be."  Of course, The Hero could have said you don't know what you are talking about, and taken us anyway.  We would have gone, but he didn't he was humble enough to listen to his son and learned from the example his son showed in forgiving and never saying harsh words about those who had tormented him.  He was humble enough to learn from his son. All turned out well for our son; he is a wonderful man.   I am thankful for both of them.  

The Hero with our son and his new wife at Mount Timpanogos Temple