Good news... We're expecting!!
Take a deep breath. There's more to the story.
Obviously most of you know that my eggs nearly qualify for AARP and any swimming going on isn't being done with any kind of distance or strength at all so you can deduct that we're NOT having a baby - at least of the human kind. Plus, I'd kinda be in a little trouble since Kirk had that special man surgery a bout a dozen years ago.
Just when things have slowed down at the corner of We're Almost There Boulevard and Easy Street we have decided to shake them up. The girls are in college, Kyle's made the big move to the high school and we're within three years of the finish line (i.e. empty nest) and now we've decided we're due for something exciting to happen (other than planning that wedding in December of course).
I suggested the adoption of an infant, just one more chance to do everything right since we kinds, sorta, might have messed up the other three kids we'd had - but hubba bubba didn't even let me get to the part about how cute all the new baby stuff is since our kids were little and how I still have some great baby names I never got to use before he shut that light bulb off with a quick flick of the switch.
He did...however...announce that he'd been batting around an idea of his own.
With three kids in youth hockey all those years and the number of winter nights we spent at home in our own beds in the single digits, the time had never been quite right to do it before.
He thought that now the timing was perfect and that...even though it wasn't quite the same as another baby we'd still get to hear the pitter patter of little feet, get to potty train it, teach it to speak and sit up all night with it.
It was, he declared, the perfect time to acquire a puppy.
"But wait!" I said, "What about all these cats???!!!" My husband has long held the opinion that as the kids leave I replace them with kittens and there is actually some truth to that. I haven't yet spoken to a counselor but there does seem to be some correlation. Besides, cat No. 1 is 16 years old and I thought it was getting close to the end so it seemed like a good idea to replace one old cat with the antics of two kittens. But that was two years ago and still today, the old cat lives on. How was I to know?
But back to the pup. It's a springer spaniel and the kennel owners declare it already has 'great hunting instinct'. Which is a big plus. My boys wanted a hunting dog. They also said it has 'high energy' and 'a real curious nature'. Translation: hyper, crazy, barking lunatic???
We'll see.
We've met him briefly, making the three hour round trip expedition to take a little more of a look see than the photo on the Internet could offer. We had our choice of two. The other cried and whimpered our entire visit and this little guy came over to us, nuzzled us in the neck one at a time and licked our cheeks all the while pleading with his eyes, "I'm cute, right? Take me home. I promise you will love me."
Kyle has already named him Miller. Interestingly enough NOT after the beer - which is what most of our friends will think - but after the hockey goalie Ryan Miller.
The black and white pup to be named Miller-but-not-after-the-beer, will be ours on Saturday. Tonight after church the boys and I scooped up some needed supplies for his much anticipated arrival. Instead of teething rings, bibs and pacifiers I took collars, leashes, chew toys and kibbles to the check-out ... as well as DVDs of both Old Yeller and Where the Red Fern Grows. (Sometimes I can't help myself!!)
The girls say we are mean. That we deprived them of the love of a dog their entire lives and now, now, we decide to get one. The cruelty. We assured them they will have liberal visitation and have been designated official dog-sitters.
This is actually not our first dog. Back in BC (before children) we had another dog. She was a light brown lab and possibly six or seven other things and we called her Libby after a town in Minnesota where we stopped to let her go potty the day we got her. Each night when my hubby came home from work she was so excited to see him that she immediately peed at the front door. Every. Single. Night.
Our fondest Libby memory of all is the time my husband rushed me to the emergency room, eight months pregnant, in the middle of the night. We had woke up lying in a large wet spot on the bed. We sped to the ER declaring my water had broke and birth was surely eminent only to find out the wet spot in our bed wasn't amniotic fluid at all - but dog urine.
Libby the pee-er was hit by a car near my parent's cabin one weekend and it has taken 21 years to think of giving dog ownership another shot.
But I think we're ready. The question is...Is Miller-not-after-the-beer ready for us?
I'll keep you posted.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Monday, August 23, 2010
Okay... but guess my weight??? Who thought of that???!!!!!!
The end of summer brings such a sense of loss that it's only fitting there is a monumental, landmark event to console us through the pain.
An event so noteworthy, exhilarating, and dare-I-say, even educational, that some of us look forward to it with the greatest anticipation the entire month of August.
And. Now. It's here.
It's state fair time in the Gopher State.
I lived the entire first half of my life having never gone to the state fair. Sure, up on the Iron Range we had the St. Louis Country fair in Hibbing when I was growing up and that was a pretty big deal in its own right but I don't know how I ever lived for twenty-ahem-some years without knowing the pleasure of a free yardstick, multiple glasses of all-the-milk-you-can drink or the knowledge of the shortcut that takes you from there to the Sweet Martha's Cookie stand to get the perfect accompaniment.
For the first five years after I got married we lived in the cities and my husband, who was well aware of the magic of the fair having gone while he was growing up, took me once, twice, and sometimes even more in one season.
The first few times we went as a two-some, walking hand-in-hand listening to the vendors in the grandstand and perusing the offerings of the bazaar. Sometimes we even took in a concert by a national headliner. Later I hobbled, pregnant belly protruding into the crowd, searching every half mile or so for a suitable empty seat and the perfect food to fill an odd craving.
Later we pushed strollers and held on to toddlers learning to incorporate a break for naps and ice cream into our visits. Only once did we misplace a child and only for a few moments next to the water ride.
One of my favorite state fair memories is the year our middle daughter, desperately desiring one of the big teddy bears from the midway tried and tried and tried until all of her change was gone to win one. On the verge of sobbing - and a pending meltdown she pitched a diddly of a toss, the ring spun around the bottle and a big blue 6' tall bear belonged to her.
Then she discovered how impossible it is to lug a big teddy bear through the crowd at the fair and how hard it is to get someone else in your family to do it, too.
We've made great purchases at the fair. Miracle cleaning cloths that can be reused forever and ever and ever, personalized Christmas ornaments and bird houses.Wedding gifts and birthday presents have been bought during trips to the fair. And every year, even though we swear we won't stop, we still end up standing somewhere along the walkway oohing and aahing at a new item, sucked into the pitch while a demonstrator explains why their product is the must-have item of the year. Then there's the learnin' part. You can't visit all those booths about animals, vegetables, and natural resources without picking up at least one thing that makes ya just a little smarter.
We eat gyros for our biggest meal of the day and I always get my wedding ring, (original cost $269 with my college roommate's employee discount) cleaned with pocket change. When they're finished it looks good as new. And since my husband always patiently waits with me on the sweltering hot second floor of the grand stand for my ring to shine and for me to walk through slow moving lines to gather free tote bags and yard sticks I return the favor by going to the animal barns and machinery hill with him.
During the years we moved away from Minnesota for a couple of fair runs but whenever possible we still managed the trip back during the fair. Sometimes with our kids, sometimes with friends, occasionally alone.
This year when the commercials began and the news channels talked about beginning their live broadcasts from their assorted booths I marveled at how in a couple of years it will be only the two of us visiting the fair once again..........although ...apparently not for awhile.
Because while we can barely get our cool kids who are all in college and high school now to go to a movie with us for fear a friend might see they have parents or walk beside them through the aisles of a grocery store - when we talked about making a trip to the Minnesota State Fair the other night at dinner every one of the three kids we've introduced to the big pig, the caramel apple sundae and the DNR booth yelled, "I'm coming!"
An event so noteworthy, exhilarating, and dare-I-say, even educational, that some of us look forward to it with the greatest anticipation the entire month of August.
And. Now. It's here.
It's state fair time in the Gopher State.
I lived the entire first half of my life having never gone to the state fair. Sure, up on the Iron Range we had the St. Louis Country fair in Hibbing when I was growing up and that was a pretty big deal in its own right but I don't know how I ever lived for twenty-ahem-some years without knowing the pleasure of a free yardstick, multiple glasses of all-the-milk-you-can drink or the knowledge of the shortcut that takes you from there to the Sweet Martha's Cookie stand to get the perfect accompaniment.
For the first five years after I got married we lived in the cities and my husband, who was well aware of the magic of the fair having gone while he was growing up, took me once, twice, and sometimes even more in one season.
The first few times we went as a two-some, walking hand-in-hand listening to the vendors in the grandstand and perusing the offerings of the bazaar. Sometimes we even took in a concert by a national headliner. Later I hobbled, pregnant belly protruding into the crowd, searching every half mile or so for a suitable empty seat and the perfect food to fill an odd craving.
Later we pushed strollers and held on to toddlers learning to incorporate a break for naps and ice cream into our visits. Only once did we misplace a child and only for a few moments next to the water ride.
One of my favorite state fair memories is the year our middle daughter, desperately desiring one of the big teddy bears from the midway tried and tried and tried until all of her change was gone to win one. On the verge of sobbing - and a pending meltdown she pitched a diddly of a toss, the ring spun around the bottle and a big blue 6' tall bear belonged to her.
Then she discovered how impossible it is to lug a big teddy bear through the crowd at the fair and how hard it is to get someone else in your family to do it, too.
We've made great purchases at the fair. Miracle cleaning cloths that can be reused forever and ever and ever, personalized Christmas ornaments and bird houses.Wedding gifts and birthday presents have been bought during trips to the fair. And every year, even though we swear we won't stop, we still end up standing somewhere along the walkway oohing and aahing at a new item, sucked into the pitch while a demonstrator explains why their product is the must-have item of the year. Then there's the learnin' part. You can't visit all those booths about animals, vegetables, and natural resources without picking up at least one thing that makes ya just a little smarter.
We eat gyros for our biggest meal of the day and I always get my wedding ring, (original cost $269 with my college roommate's employee discount) cleaned with pocket change. When they're finished it looks good as new. And since my husband always patiently waits with me on the sweltering hot second floor of the grand stand for my ring to shine and for me to walk through slow moving lines to gather free tote bags and yard sticks I return the favor by going to the animal barns and machinery hill with him.
During the years we moved away from Minnesota for a couple of fair runs but whenever possible we still managed the trip back during the fair. Sometimes with our kids, sometimes with friends, occasionally alone.
This year when the commercials began and the news channels talked about beginning their live broadcasts from their assorted booths I marveled at how in a couple of years it will be only the two of us visiting the fair once again..........although ...apparently not for awhile.
Because while we can barely get our cool kids who are all in college and high school now to go to a movie with us for fear a friend might see they have parents or walk beside them through the aisles of a grocery store - when we talked about making a trip to the Minnesota State Fair the other night at dinner every one of the three kids we've introduced to the big pig, the caramel apple sundae and the DNR booth yelled, "I'm coming!"
Monday, August 2, 2010
BOOBS or BANGS?
In the age of the fanciest of gizmo and gadgets and electronic calendars in all shapes and sizes I still choose to shun them all. I rely on an archaic system that involves a handy dandy paper and pencil black book planner with a month-at-a-glance, a pencil with an eraser, and a paper clip to mark the date.
It's how I roll.
It's what I understand.
It's a system I am a slave to.
I am nothing without the black book planner.
A rebel against modern day conveniences I tuck the planner under my arm, tote it around hither and yon and refer to it daily to see where I should be and when. When I'm setting up an appointment or in a meeting and everyone else grabs their phones and other hand held devices I dig out the black book - which, incidentally, is only a bit smaller than the Qwest Dex phone book.
With such a steel proof method to keep my important notes, appointments and reminders it's a wonder I managed to double-book two
very important
appointments on the same day last weel.
One being my mammogram and the other being, well, another pressing, hard-to-get appointment with, ah, my hair stylist.
When I realized my predicament I deeply pondered the dilemma, "Well this isn't going to work," I thought and called the hospital and cancelled my mammogram.
For roughly 23 seconds.
I wondered as soon as I'd hung up how it could be that highlights in my hair would weigh the more important of the two options. A look in the mirror confirmed the dire need for the hair appointment and I already knew how long it could be before the stylist could squeeze me in again, but the real quandary is -
What does that say about me?!
Well, first of all it says
a) I realize how hard it is to get an appointment with a good stylist.
b) I'm pretty much anxious to look for a-n-y excuse to not show up for an appointment that consists of prodding, poking, probing or pinching any of my female areas and that probably isn't that unusual,
but it also says
c) I am now a shallow, simple person who would choose to replace my sickly, dark roots with beautiful, bright blond ones instead of showing up for a screening that could save my life.
So... in the end I realized I had momentarily lost my mind and my better sense prevailed. I called the hospital right back.
"Hi, I just called a minute ago to cancel my 8:30 on Monday for my mammogram and I'd like to reschedule it please."
"The same appointment?"
"Yes. For 8:30 a.m. on Monday."
"The exact same appointment?"
"Ah, yes."
"At 8:30 a.m. on Monday - just like you had?"
"Yes. Is it gone already?"
"No. Just checking. You want to reschedule the same exact appointment for the same exact time you just cancelled for?"
"YES. (sigh) I thought I had a conflict (dark roots) but I don't so I'd like to just come in for the mammogram (not really but my guilt is weighing heavy)."
"Okay, I've got you down. Thanks for calling (you unorganized goof that probably has a hair appointment conflict that you double booked by using a planner made out of paper instead of using an electronic device that would have saved us all this hassle) Have a good day."
The good news is...I did the right thing and showed up for the mammogram and received the letter yesterday that the test was fine.
And more good news...the hair appointment I rescheduled is in two days.
Dark roots be damned - it may be shallow your days ARE numbered.
It's how I roll.
It's what I understand.
It's a system I am a slave to.
I am nothing without the black book planner.
A rebel against modern day conveniences I tuck the planner under my arm, tote it around hither and yon and refer to it daily to see where I should be and when. When I'm setting up an appointment or in a meeting and everyone else grabs their phones and other hand held devices I dig out the black book - which, incidentally, is only a bit smaller than the Qwest Dex phone book.
With such a steel proof method to keep my important notes, appointments and reminders it's a wonder I managed to double-book two
very important
appointments on the same day last weel.
One being my mammogram and the other being, well, another pressing, hard-to-get appointment with, ah, my hair stylist.
When I realized my predicament I deeply pondered the dilemma, "Well this isn't going to work," I thought and called the hospital and cancelled my mammogram.
For roughly 23 seconds.
I wondered as soon as I'd hung up how it could be that highlights in my hair would weigh the more important of the two options. A look in the mirror confirmed the dire need for the hair appointment and I already knew how long it could be before the stylist could squeeze me in again, but the real quandary is -
What does that say about me?!
Well, first of all it says
a) I realize how hard it is to get an appointment with a good stylist.
b) I'm pretty much anxious to look for a-n-y excuse to not show up for an appointment that consists of prodding, poking, probing or pinching any of my female areas and that probably isn't that unusual,
but it also says
c) I am now a shallow, simple person who would choose to replace my sickly, dark roots with beautiful, bright blond ones instead of showing up for a screening that could save my life.
So... in the end I realized I had momentarily lost my mind and my better sense prevailed. I called the hospital right back.
"Hi, I just called a minute ago to cancel my 8:30 on Monday for my mammogram and I'd like to reschedule it please."
"The same appointment?"
"Yes. For 8:30 a.m. on Monday."
"The exact same appointment?"
"Ah, yes."
"At 8:30 a.m. on Monday - just like you had?"
"Yes. Is it gone already?"
"No. Just checking. You want to reschedule the same exact appointment for the same exact time you just cancelled for?"
"YES. (sigh) I thought I had a conflict (dark roots) but I don't so I'd like to just come in for the mammogram (not really but my guilt is weighing heavy)."
"Okay, I've got you down. Thanks for calling (you unorganized goof that probably has a hair appointment conflict that you double booked by using a planner made out of paper instead of using an electronic device that would have saved us all this hassle) Have a good day."
The good news is...I did the right thing and showed up for the mammogram and received the letter yesterday that the test was fine.
And more good news...the hair appointment I rescheduled is in two days.
Dark roots be damned - it may be shallow your days ARE numbered.
Monday, July 5, 2010
Me Want Cannnnnnnnnnnddddddddddyyyyyyyyyy
HAPPY BIRTHDAY AMERICA!
We do the same thing every 4th of July.
And then....and then.... it's Cannnndddddddddeeeeeyyyy time!
I likes my sugary treats.
You can have your cake and cupcakes and gooey chocolate bars. My guilty pleasure is delicious, delicious candy.
Now that my children are older I don't even have to feel guilty for not donating my take to their collection.
And this year it was a banner 'free candy' event.
Tootsie rolls and caramel suckers. Blow pops and Icees. Hot Atomic Balls and Sour War Heads that exploded splendidly in my mouth.
Sure, I also had to smile and graciously collect several dozen political stickers during the course of the afternoon but it was well worth it for the sugar-high inducing haul I made... which I promptly devoured sitting in my lawn chair parade side.
Now that I think about it I may have been a bit of a spectacle. What with my girlfriends yelling, "Throw some to her!" "Over here - she wants some," and all.
But it's okay.
It's another 12 months before the next 4th of July comes around.
We do the same thing every 4th of July.
And I'm not complaining. We've created a pretty decent tradition with some of our better friends of spending the afternoon and evening together taking in all the 4th of July finery our city, which likes to boast that it's 'the 4th of July Capital of Minnesota 'has to offer.
Before we get to the good stuff on the 4th of July however - meaning the parades and the tailgating and hanging with our buds while we bide our time until the fireworks - there is much work to be done. Celebrating 4th of July with us is not for the lazy.
Before we get to the good stuff on the 4th of July however - meaning the parades and the tailgating and hanging with our buds while we bide our time until the fireworks - there is much work to be done. Celebrating 4th of July with us is not for the lazy.
We have to shop for the food, clean out the coolers. Pack spatulas, plastic silverware, napkins and paper plates. Prepare a smaller cooler for parade beverages and a larger one for the tailgate meal. Cut up some fruit, cut up some onions, wipe down the table we'll take and make sure there is propane for the portable gas grill. I also pack sweatshirts and long pants for sunset - for not only myself but for everyone in my family who swears they won't need them but then asks if I've brought some for them about 8 o'clock, after the temperature has dropped about 20 degrees.
As the parade hour approaches we need to load all of our totes, coolers and grills into the truck. When we arrive at our pre-appointed tailgate location it's time to set up the lawn chairs, visit a little, and collect a few free mini flags from the local Ford dealer.
And then....and then.... it's Cannnndddddddddeeeeeyyyy time!
I likes my sugary treats.
You can have your cake and cupcakes and gooey chocolate bars. My guilty pleasure is delicious, delicious candy.
I am a dentist's dream.
Now that my children are older I don't even have to feel guilty for not donating my take to their collection. It's every parade goer for himself.
And this year it was a banner 'free candy' event.
Tootsie rolls and caramel suckers. Blow pops and Icees. Hot Atomic Balls and Sour War Heads that exploded splendidly in my mouth.
Sure, I also had to smile and graciously collect several dozen political stickers during the course of the afternoon but it was well worth it for the sugar-high inducing haul I made... which I promptly devoured sitting in my lawn chair parade side.
Now that I think about it I may have been a bit of a spectacle. What with my girlfriends yelling, "Throw some to her!" "Over here - she wants some," and all.
But it's okay.
It's another 12 months before the next 4th of July comes around.
Until then I'll try to be more responsible about my candy consumption.
As soon as the mega bag of lemon drops from Fleet Farm in the glove compartment of my car is gone. And ... it's only three months until the next big candy holiday comes around ... Halloween.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Decisions...Decisions
Choices! Choices! It's just no fair - Deciding anything is my worst nightmare.
Even today I labored about – what to wear before I went out.
Shorts cuz it’s sunny? Jeans cuz I like em? A pair of capris? If I’m hot I can ‘hike em.’
A tank top? A t-shirt? A layer on top? A sweater in case the temperature drops?
If I go out to dine I never pick first – what I’ll eat to fill up on or quench my thirst.
"What are you getting?" I’ll ask everyone - and then make my selections when theirs are all done.
I have to know what they’re going to eat -- Or when they get theirs I might wish it for me.
If I get a burger with fixins and such and their stuff looks better- I won’t like mine as much.
If I order pizza I won’t like my take - when their waitress brings them hashbrowns and steak.
If we go to a movie I never can pick - Between action, or romance or comedy schtick.
What if I choose & we don’t like what we see? It’s too much responsibility.
When buying flowers with hubby this week - he said, “Well, do you like anything that you see?”
Geraniums, Marigolds, Petunias and such – "Yes, yes, I like all of them... much!”
He leaned on one leg and shifted his side – and his irritation got too hard to hide.
“Can’t you find something to get the job done? Please, hurry – soon, this isn’t much fun.”
Baskets or flats? The red or the blue? I couldn’t decide on a type - or a hue!!!
I picked a few things and took them all home and still went back twice – but those times alone.
He’s well aware of my shortcomings now – In decision making on whats where’s and hows.
For 24 years he’s sighed and he’s moaned – rolled his eyes and quietly groaned.
He can’t gripe too much cuz’ I have one on him. A choice he can’t make- again and again.
When he sits on the sofa to watch the TV the channel flipping goes on endlessly.
News and then sports then music that’s groovy – and maaaaybe nine minutes of some random movie.
Then sports again and maybe the weather. "Come on Man! I want to scream – Get it together!!"
Pick something to watch then I’ll watch with you. But if you keep flipping I’m outta here dude.
There’s one choice I make that’s easy for me – My hubby can have that HD TV.
If I have an evening with time I can spare – I know how to spend that and I know just where.
I’ll lay on the couch with the cat in my crook. And open the page of a very good book.
Even today I labored about – what to wear before I went out.
Shorts cuz it’s sunny? Jeans cuz I like em? A pair of capris? If I’m hot I can ‘hike em.’
A tank top? A t-shirt? A layer on top? A sweater in case the temperature drops?
If I go out to dine I never pick first – what I’ll eat to fill up on or quench my thirst.
"What are you getting?" I’ll ask everyone - and then make my selections when theirs are all done.
I have to know what they’re going to eat -- Or when they get theirs I might wish it for me.
If I get a burger with fixins and such and their stuff looks better- I won’t like mine as much.
If I order pizza I won’t like my take - when their waitress brings them hashbrowns and steak.
If we go to a movie I never can pick - Between action, or romance or comedy schtick.
What if I choose & we don’t like what we see? It’s too much responsibility.
When buying flowers with hubby this week - he said, “Well, do you like anything that you see?”
Geraniums, Marigolds, Petunias and such – "Yes, yes, I like all of them... much!”
He leaned on one leg and shifted his side – and his irritation got too hard to hide.
“Can’t you find something to get the job done? Please, hurry – soon, this isn’t much fun.”
Baskets or flats? The red or the blue? I couldn’t decide on a type - or a hue!!!
I picked a few things and took them all home and still went back twice – but those times alone.
He’s well aware of my shortcomings now – In decision making on whats where’s and hows.
For 24 years he’s sighed and he’s moaned – rolled his eyes and quietly groaned.
He can’t gripe too much cuz’ I have one on him. A choice he can’t make- again and again.
When he sits on the sofa to watch the TV the channel flipping goes on endlessly.
News and then sports then music that’s groovy – and maaaaybe nine minutes of some random movie.
Then sports again and maybe the weather. "Come on Man! I want to scream – Get it together!!"
Pick something to watch then I’ll watch with you. But if you keep flipping I’m outta here dude.
There’s one choice I make that’s easy for me – My hubby can have that HD TV.
If I have an evening with time I can spare – I know how to spend that and I know just where.
I’ll lay on the couch with the cat in my crook. And open the page of a very good book.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Lettttttttttttttttt's Plaaaaaaaaay Ball
It rained.
But only for a while.
And not enough to dampen the excitement of a day at the ball park.
The new one.
The one that cost millions and millions and millions of dollars.
To watch the ball players play -
The ones that cost millions and millions of dollars.
For the first visit we even
sprung
for the good seats.
It was a great day to play hookey.
At the ball park.
With friends.
Too bad our team lost.
DAD
The campfire’s lit and the embers all burn bright
But there is one empty chair at the fire now at night
He’d be here if he could to tend the burning flame
But from this moment on – Nothing will be the same.
One of the most generous people that you’ll find…
And the laughter that he gave us - just one gift he left behind.
Even when things got as badly as they could
He tried to pretend, for us, that he felt good.
The day that they told us, and said, “It won’t be long.”
He said, “All I ever wanted was to take good care of mom.”
As a dad he always had the time to talk and have some fun.
Ribbing all the grandkids and entertaining everyone.
We all loved to hear the stories of his years as a kid -
And the funny, naughty things those local boys and brothers did.
As a man he was a model for others to aspire
Welcoming even strangers – to those nightly summer fires.
A boiling pot of stew that didn’t seem to have an end
When we’d come home for the weekend with our kids and any friends.
"Come home with us this weekend,” we would tell friends that we had, “
"You have to come there with us. You guys will love my dad.”
He waited 37 years to come back and make a start
On the land that always seemed to tug a little at his heart.
He never traveled far away as many people know –
He said, “There’s no where else but here that I’ve wanted much to go.”
Surely even deer and birds - are wondering just where
The man is that gave them such kind and loving care.
Life is not always fair or good and kind.
And he wasn’t yet quite ready to leave those he loved behind.
Still we’ll light the fires when we’re home to end the day –
And know though the chair is empty, He’s still sits there anyway.
So if you see the flame burn brightly and you happen to pass by
Just like the days when he was tending. Pull in, sit down, say, “Hi.”
But there is one empty chair at the fire now at night
He’d be here if he could to tend the burning flame
But from this moment on – Nothing will be the same.
One of the most generous people that you’ll find…
And the laughter that he gave us - just one gift he left behind.
Even when things got as badly as they could
He tried to pretend, for us, that he felt good.
The day that they told us, and said, “It won’t be long.”
He said, “All I ever wanted was to take good care of mom.”
As a dad he always had the time to talk and have some fun.
Ribbing all the grandkids and entertaining everyone.
We all loved to hear the stories of his years as a kid -
And the funny, naughty things those local boys and brothers did.
As a man he was a model for others to aspire
Welcoming even strangers – to those nightly summer fires.
A boiling pot of stew that didn’t seem to have an end
When we’d come home for the weekend with our kids and any friends.
"Come home with us this weekend,” we would tell friends that we had, “
"You have to come there with us. You guys will love my dad.”
He waited 37 years to come back and make a start
On the land that always seemed to tug a little at his heart.
He never traveled far away as many people know –
He said, “There’s no where else but here that I’ve wanted much to go.”
Surely even deer and birds - are wondering just where
The man is that gave them such kind and loving care.
Life is not always fair or good and kind.
And he wasn’t yet quite ready to leave those he loved behind.
Still we’ll light the fires when we’re home to end the day –
And know though the chair is empty, He’s still sits there anyway.
So if you see the flame burn brightly and you happen to pass by
Just like the days when he was tending. Pull in, sit down, say, “Hi.”
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