When I was little I always called my kin by a title, if they were Uncles or Aunts. Uncle Doyle, Uncle Hisure, Aunt Julie, aunt Agnes, Aunt Bert and Aunt Ann (to name a few). I think that went out with my kids generation. sometimes they used the terms but not always. Of course we did not enforce it either.
(My uncle Hisure and Aunt Agnes with Luke, our grandson)
I was the baby of the family, therefore did get more favors than the rest, mainly because Dad pastored churches that paid the pastor more. The thing I could never get over was the fact, I was always the baby. I never grew up.
At 17, I was given the job of drawing up a loading plan for the Ship I was to be deployed on. The only rule I was given was, “Remember last on is the first off, you screw it up and I will have you a$$.”
(Ralph Smith, Me and the range instructor smoking our sights, Ralph has passed now, but here I was a kid of 17)
Every tank, truck, gun, and unit came off at the proper landing. Every level of the ship was loaded right. But my dad would not trust me to change the oil in my car. I was the high shooter in my company and missed the range record by one point (246 out of a possible 250). but my Dad was not sure I could check the air in my tires, etc.
For years I wondered when I would grow up in his eyes. We were stationed at GITMO Bay, Cuba. I got a call to my ‘Old Man’s’ office. You have an emergency call. My dad was dying, I was put on the next flight out. In the hours of the flights to Norfolk, then to Charlotte, I could not picture the man of steel as dying. So much I wanted to tell him. Due to bad weather we could not land in Charlotte and the plane was diverted to Virginia. Dad passed away with all his children present except men as I circled Charlotte and could not land. I finally got home but dad was at the funeral home. Mom was devastated.
During that time trying to comfort mom and share with my brothers and sisters, several folks told me how proud dad had been of me and the things I had done. We never got to share that. Since I do believe in a ‘here after’ I plan to talk to dad again.
But until then, now it is my time. My time to let my boys grow up. I thought they both were finally grown, now the youngest has reverted.
(Sherece & Sherry, She is known in the family as Reececup, she is a great beautician)
My time to allow my grand children to be them selves. Yesterday I got the sweetest hug from a grand daughter. We were able to do a little extra for her. She called, she had a blow out on her little yellow VW Bug and needed a little help changing the tire. Thanks to a rent check from her dad, she now has four new tires. I got to drive the little bug. The thing drives great. Her dad & Mom gave it to her new, it now has 95000+ miles on it. It is a straight drive (I did let it die once or twice while driving it. LOL)
(I photoshopped this picture to appear floating with Santa looking in the window of her Bug.)
The Reececup is pregnant and is going to present Sherry with a great grand child (and me too when I get old enough to be a great grandpa)
Our time has come and is passing, I hope I can handle it as well as my dad. I miss him tonight.
thanks for coming this way.
PS: Aw….. laugh a little, from my understanding of medical terms:
Rectum......................... Near killed him
Secretion....................... Hiding something
Seizure.......................... Roman emperor
(I am getting a critique on medical terms from Mel, DD,PhP, MD of ‘’Honey I’m Home’ fame.)
This is as close as I could find to Dad’s last car. This is a 1969 Malibu, we gave Dad & Mom a 1968 like this. He was proud of that car. We traded with him, taking his older car to Cuba with us.