* Remembering George

Days dawn, one after another, and quite suddenly a year has passed.  Today dawned gloomily and has been interspersed with bright rays of sun.  I suppose that is how I would describe our month of June one year ago.

Last June was a time of joyful anticipation as Tristan made it safely home after his tour in Afghanistan.  Waiting for those buses to pull in with our beloved son seemed an eternity.  When the marines finally marched onto the common in rather bedraggled form, they never looked so good.  I recall searching the many faces for the one face I was looking for  and being somewhat frustrated because in uniforms, they all look alike.  Then, suddenly, there was a marine with a familiar walk.  Yes, that slight shrug of the shoulder was no lie --- it was our marine -- home and safe.

Just days later our joy would turn to sorrow. Our family gathered in George's room as we took our last communion together and George ate a bigger meal than I had seen him eat in weeks.  He joked about  the girls in Honolulu when he was stationed there with his characteristic sailor humor.  Being tired, he fell asleep and in the early hours Ashley called to inform us that he quietly passed on to his Heavenly Father.

His red hair was no lie and he could have a temper.  However, it is the love for fun for which he is remembered in spite of his difficult childhood.  George came from obscure beginings. Not only did he come from "the other side of the tracks", but his mother died when he was 12 and it was George who discovered her.  His father had a difficult time finding work once the mines closed.  He remembered being forced from their home and eating mush every meal.  Although he had pleasant memories of school, he admitted to being spanked nearly every day.  George probably was not voted most likely to succeed by his teachers or peers.

After graduation, George did a 6 year tour with the US Navy and saw considerable action during World War II.  He was proud of his achievement of Chief Petty Officer, Permanent Appointment.  He took advantage of his GI Bill to complete barber school and opened his own shop in Parker, Indiana.  He became one of the pillars of the commnity ~ open handed and open hearted to all.  It was not uncommon for George to take toys to underpriviledged children at Christmas, knock on the door and run away. He was active in service organizations.

My children knew him as "Little Grandpa" and were enchanted by his witty stories and sayings.  They never tired if hearing the same stories over and over.  George just had a comical and humorous way of spinning a tale.  You just never knew how much of it was true and how much was embellishment.  His ready laugh and slight wink always left you wondering.
He died as he lived ~ calmly accepting what was before him, fulfilling his responsibilities and telling stories with a laugh and a wink.  George, you are missed.

WIT AND WISDOM OF GEORGE:

*  You never want to tell everything you know.  Then they will know what you know and what they know and that will make them smarter than you.

*  AW ... BUG FEATHERS!

*  I had an occasion to be..... (if he started a sentence this way, we knew a good story would follow.

*  That's singular!

Stay tuned --- Ashley and Tristan will have to help me with some of the rest!

*A Visit to the Faerie Garden

One sunny day in June, I was invited to the Teddy Bear's Picnic.  We had a splendid time.  We ate cucumber sandwiches. They told me about a Secret Faerie Garden.


The Teddy Bears told me that I was to wander in the woods until I found the Cathedral Window Rose.  The roses did not always bloom, but there would be other clues along the way.



Tucked away in a tiny corner I found a stone.  I looked very carefully and I found some writing on it.  Yes, sure enough, there were the words ~ SECRET GARDEN.  Could this really be the Faerie Garden I was looking for?


I wandered through the narrow path and found a hitch for my unicorn.  The faeries have a fancy for unicorns and try to get them to stay there.  Unicorns like to roam free.

There was a creaky bridge to cross.  I was nervous for I had been warned that elves live with the faeries and they often watch under bridges.  I kept my eyes open and looked all around.  I was even a bit scared.

Sure enough, there was one sitting by the bridge post.  He looked as if he was writing.  Was he writing a book?  Could he be a watchman for St. Nicholas?  I decided it would be best not to disturb him and walked on.




Once across the bridge, there was a wonderful sitting area with chairs just my size.  It is as if the faeries were expecting me!





Shaded by the weeping cherry tree I enjoyed a brief respite.  I could hear the birds twitter and the bees buzz.  However, I thought I could hear tiny voices ~ like faint singing.

Yes, just beyond the sitting area, I spied a faerie village.  Tucked amongst the foliage were little faieries working and playing and dancing.  They were not afraid of me at all and invited me to stay with them a while.

At first I thought the sister faerie had locked her brother in his room and would not let him out.  However, that was not so.  They were cleaning windows!  I did not know faeries cleaned windows.

Further in the copse, there were two more faieries.  They were busy planting flowers.  Faeries are partial to violets and pansies.  They have a passion for peonies, but those flowers are much too big for faeries.


The last fairie house was funny.  The little boy was sitting on the porch.  He was pouting.  His little sister was trying to put him into a better mood.  So we all had faerie tea and cookies together.  They day continued on until dusk was on the horizon. I waved "good bye" and made my way home ~ hoping to visit the faerie village again soon with my special friends Margaret Rose and Helen Grace.

* "Til death us do part"

June 10, 1978 was a day much like June 10, 2010.  The day was sunny and the temperatures were mild.  The difference is that I was a very nervious 21 year old, about to marry a seminary student from Asbury Theological Seminary. We had carefully planned the day.  Special friends and family had been chosen for various roles in the wedding and reception.  After the minister declared us "husband and wife" ~ life changed  forever. 

   My gown was one of a kind.  After visiting many bridal salons and being shocked at the price, it seemed obvious that my mother was going to have to make the perfect gown for me.  She patiently pieced together patterns which represented all of my ideas and worked hours upon hours with all the heavy satin and delicate lace.  The result was exactly what I wanted to wear when I walked the long aisle of Faith Memorial Church to my waiting groom.

We have been asked if our wedding party consisted of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir.  No, but, as you can see, it was quite a production.  I can truthfully say, that I had to keep up with Bill in attendants, and not the other way around!  However, our day was wonderfully celebrated with family and friends who were bridal attendants as well as hosts and hostesses at our reception. 

       We like to tell people that the reception was held in our first apartment!  However, most people will recognize the Georgian.  Notice the cake ~ not only did my mother make my dress, but she designed and baked the cake!  She is pretty talented.                               

Bill was a perfect gentleman with the wedding cake and has remained a perfect gentleman ever since. 

The years brought us two wonderful children.  Ashley is beautiful with a gentle spirit.  She married a wonderful man and the two of them have given us two granddaughters who are pure joy.  Tristan grows into a fine man with the values and traditions of his fathers.

Today I live in the house of my dreams on a little piece of land which is like paradise.  We make the dream come true together.  Planning and working our home and gardens is one of my favorite activities.  We often sit on our back porch commenting on how perfect life is. Bill is the love of my life... and I look forward to the next 30 years.  And so we shall go on ~ planning, dreaming, hoping, loving and living ... until,at last, one of us shall lay the other in the arms of our loving God.

* Family Contentment

For those of you who have been asking for pictures of Ashley, Matthew, Margaret and Helen ... here they are.  Enjoy.

* When Margaret and Helen come ....

 When Margaret and Helen come,

we will get up early in the morning before anybody else.

We will take a walk through Gimpy's garden

and go up the steps of 3, 5, and 7.

Gimpy will explain what the 3, 5, and 7 mean ...

but we won't understand.

When Margaret and Helen come, we will stop and pick flowers. Some of the flowers will smell pretty.  Other flowers won't smell at all.  Maybe we will pick a bouquet to take to Mama and Papa.  

 When Margaret and Helen come, we will feed the birds.  It will be quite a job getting all the different kinds of bird feed in all the different feeders.  Then we will sit and watch all the birds as they come to eat.  Each of us will have our favorite bird and we will change our minds over and over again.

 When Margaret and Helen come, we will feed and watch the chickens.  We will watch them as they come out of their house and eat their breakfast.  We will try to walk like chickens and we will laugh and laugh.

 When Margaret and Helen come, we will spend  much time in the Wisteria Lodge.  Margaret will help me water the flowers.  We will be thirsty and drink tea and eat muffins.We will probably make cold tea that tastes like lemonade.   We will read books and rock.

 When Margaret and Helen come, Grammy and Gimpy will be so excited.  We will do little else other than be with Margaret and Helen.            When Margaret and Helen come, I will be in the garden ... waiting.