Happy birthday, Son!

Today is my youngest son's birthday and although he hates attention drawn to himself, this proud mother can't help herself.  Forgive me, Son.  You don't have a choice.  The Lord insists.

Sometimes your sense of humor came through and you didn't even know it.  I remember the time we were moving to San Antonio from Ft. Huachuca.  Dad told me to turn the car around and be ready for him to get in and drive us away after he signed out.  Trouble is, I didn't realize there was another exit at the top of the hill and I tried to turn the car around in a rut filled dirt parking lot.  The homemade trailer we were pulling caught one of the ruts, jack knifed, and left a huge dent in the side of the car.  Dad was furious with me.  "I suppose you're going to be mad at me all the way to San Antonio," I said.

"I probably will," was his honest response.  There was dead silence for several miles on that interminable 28 mile stretch of nothing between Ft. Huachuca and Interstate 10.

Finally, the quiet voice of a six year old came from the back seat.  "Is Mommy going to get a whipping?"  It broke us up and the rest of the trip was made in a more jovial mood.  In fact, somewhere east of El Paso, Dad asked you and your brother to pull the inside panel off the wheel area and try to kick the dent out of the car.  Don't think it worked.

When we got to San Antonio, we decided that International Travelall was much too big for roads in Honolulu.  Trading it in for a Pacer was the decision.  However, we still had Chief, our 35 pound dog and we were unsure he would fit under the hatchback.  We took him to the dealership.  Dad walked to the Pacer on display, opened the hatchback and told the dog to get in.  Chief hopped in, Dad closed the door and told the approaching salesman, "OK, now we can talk."

Trouble is, you, the six year old, is the one who wanted to talk.  The first thing out of your mouth is the story of the dent.  Dad excused us, saying it was time for you boys to eat.  We stopped at a fast food place, got the 2 of you hamburgers, dropped you off at the apartment we were renting and then he and I went back to make the deal on the car.

Speaking of hamburgers, I remember the time you were sick of them.  No blame there.  We were on the road-again.  This time, it was from New Jersey to Colorado.  We'd stayed in hotels until we could find a place to buy.  We thought it might be a good idea since Viet Nam was still raging and as a serviceman, Dad could easily have been called to the cause, leaving the 3 of us and the dog with no home.  We usually lived on base, but base housing at that time was not available to dependents without the active duty person.  The house we bought had no stove and we ate out again the last night before the stove came so I could finally cook something besides hamburgers.  It was more than you could bear.  You looked at that hamburger and looked down at your hands and back again.  I don't think you touched it.  I'm not sure any of us did. Three weeks of McDonald's was enough to cure anyone.

I'm on a roll as far as you and food are concerned.  You were in kindergarten and your brother was in the 4th grade when we were living in Ft. Huachuca.  He came home from school one day and announced I needed to make cupcakes for the Halloween party at school the next day.  You started hopping up and down, demanding I make them for your class, too.  They were a rush job, even more so than your brother's, who got his order in first-at the last minute.  Needless to say, they weren't my best effort, but your 4 year old heart was deeply touched.  You stood on tiptoe, looking at those cupcakes spread across the top of the washer and dryer.  "Oh, Mommy, they're so pretty!"

Let me hasten to add that food and you are not my only memories.  I still can see you outside on the street in Rolla, playing "football" with half a dozen munchkins a third your size.  You were a big boy and they weren't at all large for their age.  You'd stand there, with those tykes hanging all over you.  They were having a big time.  Later, they'd tell their mother with a big swagger and bigger grin, "I beat up Dan!"

When I was with you many years later, I was deeply impressed at the way you had such in-depth conversations with your teenage son.  You treated him with respect and dignity.  Not something all dads have the patience or understanding to do.  Now, he's showing the world the results of a good dad with a teenage son.

It's one thing to treat a respectful child with dignity and respect, but you were also compassionate and understanding when most parents would have given up or at least, not done nearly so much as you did.  You are an amazing dad and now, as a grandpa, you are still amazing.

I also remember the time you played football in Rolla-with the high school team, not neighborhood little ones. The Waynesville team not only tripled teamed you, one of them launched himself at you like a missle, striking you in the back with his helmet propelled into you with the full weight of his lance straight body behind it. You and I spent the next week traveling back and forth between Rolla and Ft. Leonard Wood, at the doctor's office.  Finally, I asked the doctor why he had to see you so frequently.  His response was that there was the possibility you liver was bruised and if so, you could bleed to death before anyone knew what was wrong!  I still get chills at the thought at how close we came to losing you.

How grateful I am God gave you to us and has kept you safe.  You've been a good son, a great father, and you chose a wonderful wife that loves you.  Can't ask for more than that.  You've blessed your parents in ways we could not begin to tell, and we're grateful for you.  The happiest of days to you and a great year to follow.

Happy Birthday

Today is our darling daughter-in-law's birthday.  I hope it's a very happy one for her.  She's quite the busy woman.  For several years, she was the after-school care giver at the private school where our grandsons attended.  She also is an avid gardener.  Farmer, really.  She's also tried her hand at raising chickens and keeping bees.

However, the bees didn't work out, according to our son.  Too many stings.  Since she got only stings and pollination of her fruit trees, I'm not sure it was worth it, either and am glad she gave it up before the stings cause more problems.  I admire her desire to keep that garden going and the food prep she does with it all.  She's certainly ambitious!

She's also busy at their church, did some work with the school plays, is caregiver for her grandson and who knows what all else?  Way to go, Tina!

We're proud of you, love you, and pray for you daily.  And, today-Your Day- a very happy birthday and many more to come even better than the ones that have gone before.

Happy Birthday!

Today is my granddaughter's 26th birthday.  Beautiful - oh, the stories I could tell about her beauty - but I've been warned off getting too personal about family members.  Let's just leave it that I'm not the only one who thinks she's drop dead gorgeous.

She's also smart, talented, gifted, and just about as wonderful as they come.  She's feisty, too.  Should have known that watching her play volleyball in high school.  She's only 5'4", but she held her own on the team.  She could dive, retrieve, run, and hit with the best of them and even better than the 6' girl on the team.

One of the times I remember her being feisty on Grandma's behalf happened Father's Day weekend. We had gone to a very posh restaurant in downtown Jax.  My purse is quite large and I was struggling with where to put it.  She suggested I hang it on the back of my chair, but I said that is no longer advised.  Someone could easily slip it off the back of the chair and walk off with it.  She smiled and said they wouldn't get away with it.  She was between the back of my chair and the door. No way would she let someone steal her Grandma's purse.

The second occasion happened several years ago.  We had been contemplating getting a dog and when my son said he'd buy it, we called the shop, but the one I wanted had been sold.  The pup, however had a sister in a nearby shop.  We called and were told it, too, had been sold, but first come, first serve.  We all climbed in the car and as my son raced for the pet shop, my granddaughter said if the other people got their first, I could take them down at the knees and she'd run off with the dog! What a girl!

She also is about the bravest 26 year old I know.  She's just been through a very rough year, health wise, thanks to a doctor who didn't know what he was doing.  But, she endured, didn't give up, and now she's returned to work.  She doesn't seem bitter over what's happened even though she'll have health issues for the rest of her life.  Honestly, she's handled it better than I would have.

She called this morning to thank us for her birthday card.  She's a delight to talk to.  It made me think of the time we went to the movies, just the two of us to see the story of Queen Elizabeth when Princess Diana died.  We had lunch after and a wonderful, intelligent, thoughtful conversation.

Way to go, Sweetheart!!!  You make your grandparents so proud!

Happy Birthday and may this be a fantastic year, with each year to follow getting better.  We love you.

You go, Girl!

Our granddaughter is returning to work today after 11 months and 4 days with a life-threatening situation.  We're so proud of her.  She has endured a great deal and it may not be all done yet. But, she has persevered and today she returns to her old job.  The woman who got her the job and became a best friend was promoted, leaving her slot open, which Ashley will fill.

What's next for our girl?  You'll have to ask her.  For now, we're just ecstatic for her and want to wish her the very best.

In a pickle

Well, our beloved grandson, Jordan, just made a big liar out of his grandma.  He was so excited about being baptized in the Jordan River while he was in Israel and then he backed out-after I told every body and their brother about the upcoming event!

He hasn't talked to me, yet, so I can only go on what his dad says. According to Dan, Jordan was afraid it would become a thing of pride and he wasn't willing to risk that.  Hmm.  I remember his dad saying the same thing when he was that age.

Dan had been accepted to Letourneau College in Texas, about 90 miles east of Dallas.  His then girlfriend and now wife, Tina, had checked with modeling agencies in St. Louis in the hopes they could pay their way through college by modeling.  Both had everything they needed to do the job.

In fact, I had to threaten more than one woman on more than one occasion to stop messing with my son's soul.  One woman was married, 27, had 3 kids and made an absolute fool of herself over a 15 year old boy!  Mama bear stepped in and made her sentiments (claws) known.

Dan, however, refused to even apply at agencies in Dallas once he got to Texas.  His reason?  He believed the Lord had called him to the mission field and he was afraid if he started making that kind of money, it would come between him and the Lord.  A friend later asked me, "How did he get so wise?"

Dan's not sure Jordan is being totally honest with himself or others about the reason he backed out, just as I'm not sure Dan was ever truly honest about his reasons for refusing to model.  I was disappointed at the time, but now I realize the Lord had other plans.  Modeling doesn't exactly have the kind of reputation to inspire confidence in a mother's heart and perhaps the Lord knew there would be temptations that Dan would not resist.

I just hope Jordan doesn't regret his decision somewhere down the road.

Memories

Happy 50th birthday, Son.  Really?  No way.  Can't be.  Now, I shall quote the mantra of old people. "Where did the time go?"  50 years of  being oh, so proud of your accomplishments, oh, so scared of your antics causing major problems (Yes, your brother told me about your taking the corner on Lover's Lane on 2 wheels) and, oh, so blessed by the years of joy you have given us.

For all your tough business practices, you have a tender heart for people that will probably  embarrass you at the mere mention of it.  Get over it.  It's a mother's prerogative to embarrass the one she gave birth to.

The day your brother was born, we followed all the "expert" advice of the day.  Dad took the baby into the house and put him in the crib, then picked you up from the baby sitter's.  I was waiting at the front door with a new toy for you.  The door flew open and you raced past my open arms shouting, "Where's my baby brother!"  So much for the experts whose advice left me standing with empty arms.

You may not remember the Christmas parade in Oakdale the year we were enroute from Arizona to New Jersey.  Grandma and I stood at the back of the crowd watching you take care of your 2 year old brother and a neighbor's little girl about the same age. You talked to them the whole time, pointing out things of interest.  It's not easy to keep one two year old engrossed, let alone two, but you did it and you were only six!

A Halloween birthday made that day the busiest of the year for your mother and I apologize for being grumpier on your birthday than most other days of the year.  My grumpiness, however, was a backdrop highlighting your amazing tenderness.  The year we moved from Arizona to Hawaii was Of course, over your birthday.  We were staying with Grandma Nettles because our belongings were packed and in storage.  Since most of Grandma's neighbors didn't know you, we took you back to Ft. Huachuca where they did.

You were so excited at treats a neighbor gave you, you rushed to the car to show us.  For some reason, you stopped short in your glowing report and said, "Dad, you're hurting, aren't you?"  Dad, hadn't said a word.

"A little bit," he replied.

"Danny, get in the car.  We're going back to Grandma's.  Dad's hurting."  Never a glimmer of disappointment at your childhood tradition being cut short.  You were eleven years old.

However, you made up for it the next year, in Hawaii.  Mountains are steep, valleys deep, and flashfloods quick in Hawaii. Heavy rains can cause serious problems in a heart beat.  More than one unsuspecting person has been swept to their doom.  On Trick or Treat night, it poured.  I called the mps to ask if the night was cancelled and rescheduled.  They refused to give me an answer.  I was in a quandry (dither) because I didn't want you to miss out on the fun, but didn't want you killed in a flashflood, either.  Finally, Dad made the decision.  "Let them go.  They'll be fine."

With a stern warning that they were to return home if four neighbors said they weren't doing trick or treat in such nasty weather, I sent them on their way and wrote a letter to Grandma, complaining that your dad sent you out to surf the nearest tsunami.  You were gone for the longest time.  I paced and fretted.

When you finally relieved my anxieties by returning, your sacks were full of goodies.  Don't remember who let it slip, but you outsmarted your mother by going to the farthest end of post before knocking on any doors!  That way, if you were turned down, you could continue to collect.  After all, you were on your way home. Like Dad said when you got your first big promotion, "How'd you get so smart?"

That Christmas, Dad was hospitalized for his surgery.  Rather than fret about it, you focused on your swimming and won a bucket load of first prizes.  If I remember correctly, you won 7 first places that weekend and moved up in to the AA group.  "I'm going to pin a ribbon on every tube in Dad's body!" you crowed.  You won all those ribbons for Dad.  Amazing.

Oh, the memories, my son.  Your 12 years of patriotic service to your country in the U.S. Navy, your marriage to a woman who could not possibly be more wonderful.  Being a good dad to Jeffrey and Ashley.  Guiding them into adulthood with a firm, steady, but loving hand.  Where oh where did the time go?  Like the landscape in Hawaii, we've had steep ups and downs, but through it all, we've watched and prayed. And been grateful.

Happy birthday my son.  Love, you, Mom  



 

My baby!

Today is our son Dan's 46th birthday.  My baby!  My six foot whatever.  He says 6'4", his dad says 6'5", and I say 6'6".  He's a big guy.  And a wonderful one.  His life has been quite a journey and we're button busting proud of him.

Of course, you realize, the years between our ages are getting smaller all the time.  How could I become a mother at such a young age?  I'm getting so old, I can't own up to my age when I had my first son, let alone my second.  Let's just say I was a child bride (NOT) and move on to other subjects. The day may come when they'll admit to being older than me.  Not saying I intend to lie about my age, but...

We don't get to see Dan's family very often.  They're in Tulsa and we're in Florida, but we did have a grand time with them last December when Bob and I celebrated our 50th wedding anniversary.  For those of you who've seen my daughter-in-law's Facebook, or get my Christmas letter, you'll see pictures.  I would here, but still haven't learned how.  

Dan's the one who encouraged me to get involved with Facebook.  Tina tried, but I soon gave it up. Seemed ridiculous to me, but Dan said when he joined classmates started popping up all over the place.  The older I get, the more I enjoy memory lane, so I was convinced to rejoin.  Trouble is, so many people my age are retired and have no desire to engage in electronic media, so I haven't found a whole lot of classmates.

Have made some wonderful acquaintances all over the rest of the world, though.  Kenya, Africa; Bolivia, South America; West Virginia, USA.  That much has been great.  And humbling.  Everyone is so good at this stuff and I'm still stumbling along, huffing and puffing, trying to catch up.  Never happen.  What I learned today was obsolete years ago.

Uh oh.  Spoke too soon.  I've been gratefully bragging on the topical cream that's kept my fire ant bites from itching.  It may have just delayed it.  The desire to scratch just hit with a vengeance.

Anyway, a very, very happy birthday, Dear Dan.  And many, many more to come even if it does tell on your mother's old age.  Love  you, Son.

Honorary RN

If they give out honorary Registered Nurse degrees, then my daughter-in-law should be the first one in line.  When her mother contracted a leukemia that eventually took her life, Debby was there.  Now, our granddaughter is in excruciating pain and in line for surgery.  Mom was there.  When our grandson arrived to help move our granddaughter, he contracted strep and -you guessed it-Mom was there.

It's been a tough couple of months, so 3 cheers for Honorary Nurse Debby!

But then, I'm reminded of the time when Bob received an extremely high evaluation for promotion.  After I read it, I mentioned how terrific it was and Bob's response was tepid.  "Why would you act like this," I asked.  "What more could the man say?"

"He could've recommend me for general," laughed the Sergeant First Class.

OK, so 3 cheers for Honorary Dr. Debby:)