Memorial Day Weekend is here, officially, the start of summer vacations, but most importantly, to remember those who have passed before us, and for all those soldiers who have fought and died for our country. Those for whom this Holiday is dedicated to.
These are the ones i am thinking about this Memorial Weekend.
My Mom, Ethel--- A strong, opinionated, independant woman. She could definately take care of herself. Her sympathies always went to the underdog. Jeffery dahlmer, *that poor boy* were her exact words, i said, *mom, he eats people.* She said he was misunderstood. Oj Simson, * he is so handsome he could`nt have butchered his wife.* We went round and round about that one.
This woman loved to argue, most was in fun, but it did`nt matter if it were a man, a woman, or a child, if she could lure you into an argument, she was in her glory. Her love for her family was strong, and there was`nt anything she would`nt do for them, even though many times, we did`nt deserve her loyalty. I miss her.
My Father, Leroy----He was Much quieter than my Mother. His passions were fishing and hunting. He was a carpenter by trade, he built alot of houses in his day. If we wanted something, we went to dad, he was the easy target, and we did`nt have to argue our point with him like we did with mom. When he first met skip, the next morning i asked him what he thought of him. Dad said, * i think you fell into the deep end of the frying pan with this one.* Funny, because in the end, skip and my dad were as close as any son and father, they loved and respected each other. A couple years ago, i asked skip if he could bring anyone back for just one day, who would it be? His answer was , my dad. My dad was a good man. I miss him.
My Grandma and Grandpa. She was the strong silent type. Grandpa wore the pants in the family, and both of them gave us grandchildren wonderful memories of them when they were on the farm. Some days i get a wiff of something sweet, and it is the smell of grandma making nectar for us, that`s what it was called back then, nector. Todays sad version is Koolaid. Grandpas rule was that every sunday, all three of his girls and their kids better be on the farm for a family dinner, and we all were, every sunday. Me and my cousins grew up as close as sisters and brothers, and that was because of my grandparents. Looking back, that farm and those two people gave me some of my happiest memories. I am so grateful i had them.
My Brother Mark. I think of him often. I look at his son Ben, and see so much of my brother in him. It`s amazing how much the two of them are alike, in looks and manner. He was tall, had long legs, and his nickname in high school was Spider, mine was Legs. Guess we were built pretty much alike. I was closest to mark growing up. His death, never leaves me. Mark Was a Vietnam Veteran.
My Father in Law Don. I only knew Don a short while, He passed away about 3 years into my marriage. He died shortly after our son Adam was born. He was very tall and big, and had a booming voice. You did`nt want to get into an argument when he and His brother Fred were together, that`s for sure. I did that once and only once! He absolutely adored my daughter Sarah, he was so loving and gently with her, and called her Princess. She was only 3 when he died, so it is sad that they don`t have memories of their grandpa. Don had a special place in my heart, he was the only one in skips family who was happy we were getting married. ( it`s a long story!) He was in the hospital in Minneapolis and we stopped in to see him the day we were married. Don was also a WWII Veteran.
My Uncle Dale. He was one of the funniest man i knew, although i did`nt realize this untill i was an adult. When i was a kid, i spent alot of time at his house with my cousins, and mostly i remember him holloring MARGEEEEEEEEEEE do something with these kids. He never scolded us, he got my aunt to do that. He was my dads best friend. He was tall and skinny and had this pot belly, he`d lift up his t-shirt and puff out that belly and make us laugh when we were kids........and adults. He could make me laugh till i cried.
My Great Uncle Herbie. To me he looked like Mr Magoo. In his later years he went blind, and his eyes were always squinted like mr magoos. We`d have to give him a hug when we went to visit, and he`d know who we were basically by feeling us up. Weird but true. He was kind of the harmless dirty old man in our family. Even their priest had to reprimand him for feeling up the ladies at church. But, we knew herbie well, and other than having to put up with his hands and bumps and grinds , he was pretty cool. He was the family santa claus, had been since i was a tiny little girl. He was also a WWI Veteran. He lived into his 90`s .
Well, those are who i have thought about this memorial weekend, along with all the soldiers from wars past and present, and their families. Hope you all have a fantastic weekend, take care, and drive safely.