Pee Pee or Tee Tee? That is the Question! Post #49

         Until moving to Mobile I thought I knew how all southerners talk; and that would be like my Kentucky family.  But every so often, I would see a movie where a southern accent is portrayed and would comment, “That accent is so fake!”  And I really believed that until I moved to Mobile, a sibling city to New Orleans, Gulfport/Biloxi, and Pensacola. 

Probably the most unexpected thing about moving from the great white north to the Deep South - particularly the Gulf Coast - is the various dialects of southern accents.  Both my mom and dad’s families were southern and at family reunions, we  were the ones who had the accent, though I learned to talk in Maryland by parents who still had southern accents.   So all my life, no matter where I went, people told me I had an accent.  Or at the very least, “You talk funny!” 

               

In this sisterhood of cities, there is a blend of French, Spanish, Creole, Laotian, cultures, with a side of Vietnamese and/or British.   Simple phrases are said in many different ways and it took a while to realize that each southern accent was just as legitimate the next.   But sometimes I assumed something was a cultural phrase or word when in reality, it was unique to an individual or family.  For instance, when my oldest daughter was a baby, she called Ice cream ‘Hawseyke’ (halls-ike).  Don’t ask me why, she just did!   Therefore, that became our family's word for ice cream until nearly the time she went off to college.  And that is how it was with my sweet friend, Laura.  She had two kids who were about ten and twelve years old when I moved here.

              

  I remember the first time I heard Laura ask her kids if they needed to go ‘Tee Tee’.“Tee Tee?”   I thought.  “Well, that’s a new one!  That must be her kid name for Pee, or Pee Pee.”  Many times in the north I been in public and heard a kid or an adult – even a classy-looking woman -  crassly announce, “I gotta Pee!”  I have to admit, Tee Tee was much more subtle and maybe even a little cuter sounding than PEE.  But one day, Laura and I were out by ourselves when she suggested we stop and get a drink and go Tee Tee.  I thought she was kidding at first but when I looked at her sweet, innocent, adorable face it was obvious she was completely serious.  “I don’t go ‘Tee Tee’! “  I thought.  It sounded so childish and I wondered what she would have thought if I had said, “Why don’t we stop for Hawseyke instead?”  But I got it.  Her kids were still young and the more I thought about it, it really was just so much 'softer' sounding than PEE.  

                Eventually I became accustomed to Laura’s word for Pee and accepted the fact that she not only uses it for her kids, but for herself, and even me.   It was a sunny, warm, fall day when I went to the doctors for the first time in Mobile.  During the triage, they take your blood pressure and weight.   The nurse chatted happily, as most Mobilians do, as she put the pressure belt on my arm and continued her banter throughout the process.  Then she handed me a cup and said, “Now Miss. Mary Beth, we need you to Tee Tee in this cup!”   She look at me questioningly as I stared at her with my mouth hanging open as though I had no clue of what I was supposed to do.  And to be honest, if it was not for 'Laura Quite Contraura,' I wouldn’t have.  But I was frozen with my eyes locked on hers and the only thought I could seem to muster up was, “Now I know she just didn’t say Tee Tee!”  Then I walked into the bathroom, still in a daze and starring at the cup thinking, “I have to Tee Tee in this!  I, Mary Beth, am going Tee Tee!”   I had never gone ‘Tee Tee’ before  and I  laughed  hysterically the whole time.  From there it was time to pick Shanon up from school and she looked at me like I was from Mars when I said, “Guess what, Sweetheart?  I went Tee Tee today.”

I’ve heard Tee Tee said many times since then.  As a matter of fact, the only Pee, or Pee Pee people are Yankees, mid-westerners, or West Coast transplants.  This past fall, I landed in the cardiac unit for nearly 4 days .   You’d think the primary thought in my mind would be the issue at hand – which was a health snafu.  But once again, I found myself amused at the southern terminology used even in the hospital.  For instance, when the sweet, tall, young and handsome night orderly came in my room in the middle of the night to do stats, each time he would say, "Miss. Mary Beth?  Do you want me to walk you into the bathroom to go Tee Tee?"    And over and over I told him, "No, thank you!  I don't need to go Tee Tee!"  The nurses instructed me about making sure to Tee Tee in the measuring cup and each day the doctors asked how many times I Tee Tee’d.

              .

  I still haven’t changed from Pee Pee to Tee Tee yet.  We are big tea drinkers at my house and somehow I still can’t separate the two.  Is Tee Tee actually Tea that we Pee?  'We don’t know!’   But somehow I have this strange feeling that, when the grand-babies come,  my Pee Pee days may very well be over.

Snow Drefts Post #48

Candle makers

 

It’s amazing the difference a year can make and what can happen when we focus our life energy into our passions.    Even better, to weed out the things that block or disperses that energy.   I've come to the conclusion that everything and everyone either feeds or bleeds us.  This is why the New Year always brings me focus and hope.  Last Christmas season was difficult as it seemed I was in a time warp, living 2004 –a divorce, the death of my step mom, the brain injury (and 4 years later the death) of my mom – all over again.  What I thought had been laid to rest – no pun intended – came screaming back into my mind like a freight train that I found hard to shake. Also, I had been working contract-to-contract, making it nearly impossible to buy a house, which I have desperately wanted to do. But the good news is, living in a place that is full of lush color and nature, for me, makes a huge difference on how life is experienced overall and, though last year was hard, it may well be the very thing that kept me from becoming completely enveloped in relapsed grief.  It was time to set some serious long-term goals personally and professionally to be executed in the New Year.

Friday, after an intense late afternoon meeting, I walked a couple blocks to my favorite boutique – Covered – and discovered that the ‘North Pole’ event was going on downtown.  I could hear the happy laughter and voices just a block away as Christmas music permeated the air and later decided to walk over.  The Christmas train carried moms, dads and kids up and down Royal Street.  As is tradition to this four year old event, Spider man came down the side of the Hampton Inn from the roof to the ground.   A cardboard version of Whoville was set up in the quad at the Riverview Hotel and people waited in line to sit on Santa’s lap at Hargrove Engineering firm.  In various places there were snow machines blowing ‘snow’ (I hear it is Dreft laundry soap) off the New Orleans-style balconies that line the street.  I found myself thanking God that it is Dreft as I looked at all the happy faces who were most likely wishing that it was real snow.

   Then I thought of all those unappreciative northerners who have no idea that there are people who are so desperate to see snow that they are actually dancing in floating flakes of laundry soap.  Yet, there they are, Upstate New Yorkers, often getting six feet or more of the stuff and then having the nerve to complain!  But me…I’m not greedy because I never liked the stuff in the first place, which is why I prefer laundry soap and am thrilled at the empowerment of somebody being able to just shut it off.

 Today was my favorite ‘secret’ Christmas party ever (see last year’s ‘Merry Christmas from Dixie’) that takes place on the property of a well-known local family.   Their houses are scattered throughout the woods and they moved historical buildings doomed to be torn down to their land. The invitation boasts of the “restored Chapel, Country Store, Pottery Shop, Grist Mill, Blacksmith Shop and the old Toulminville Schoolhouse. There will be a Blacksmith, a Potter and a Candlemaker on hand.  Also enjoy touring the decorated and lighted Boardwalks through the Forest beside the Bay.  Holiday music will be presented in the Chapel and at the Amphitheater”.  Again, it was a splendid event.  Last year it inspired me to push beyond the flood of grief and make conscious goals and decisions for the second half of my life.  Perhaps it was walking the lighted trails around the pond, or seeing the fruition of a dream come true simply because the dreamer had a vision and lived his life accordingly.  I thought of how many times my decisions have not reflected my long term goals and I vowed to change that.

Changes are in the midst and many have already happened.   A standard full-time job  would show a steady income to buy a house again.  In January 2013, that happened and now buying a house is only months away. There are bridges to cross but I find that, as each barrier is removed, new opportunities seem to appear out of nowhere and suddenly, previously dark and scary roads become brightly lit with all kinds of signs pointing the way. 

 I can’t help but to believe that much of the foundation was laid in 2008 by taking the risk and giving up the familiar to find a place that resonates with my spirit.   It is things like the Camellias that bloom in December and the sweet scents that permeate the air year-round.  Its Christmas Carols on a 75 degree night and lighted trails through the woods with boardwalks on the bay.  It’s the friendly people who have made sure that we continue to feel welcome even though we are no longer new; like the elderly man who approached me at the party with something he had been driving around with for a year waiting to give me when he saw me.  Its the palm trees with Christmas lights and white sand that looks like snow.  And yes!  Best of all, it’s the laundry soap!  It’s definitely the Dreft!  

One Upon Mobile's Bad Weather POST #47

           

I never thought I’d hear myself say, “Yay!  It’s fall!”  Having moved to the Gulf Coast in the month of June of 2008, you’d think the heat would be overwhelming.  But that first year no one could convince me that the green, lush, colorful, garden-like setting would not go away at the stroke of September.  I barely went inside in spite of the heat, the ‘no-see’ems, and the heavy humidity that keeps seasoned southerners living strategically around the heat.

            One night, I was having neighbors over for appetizers and Mojitos.  All day I was envisioning my wonderful little porch ‘party’ with new-found treats like hot seafood dip, fresh goat cheese with basil, and boiled Cajun peanuts.  The group of six arrived and, when I went inside to make the drinks, they ALL followed me in the house.  I made the mistake of asking, “Do you guys want to go out on the porch or sit inside?”   I was certain they’d opt for the porch, after all, that’s what southerners do!

            In unison, the group shouted, ‘IN!!!”  As soon as we settled into the living-room   I noticed smirks on their faces; victorious smirks, I might add!  After a drink or two, the conversation became more relaxed – as if it wasn’t already, I mean, we’re in the south.  Then they shared their discussion on the way to my house.

Speaker #1:  “I’m so glad we got a nice neighbor that’s friendly and enjoys socializing.”

Speaker #2:  “Me too!  But I sure hope Miss Mary Beth doesn’t make us sit out on that porch and sweat to death!”

Speaker #3:  “Oh!  You know she will!   How do we get inside?”

Speaker #1:  “Good luck with that!  You know we’ll never get her in that house!”

I enjoyed their company immensely, though there was a twinge of guilt that the moon was shining bright and the warm – okay, hot – summer breeze would not have our audience that night.  I just couldn’t get it out of my head that - come September - it was not all going disappear.  I never wanted it to go away.  Ever! 

About a year later at a neighborhood barbecue, I overheard a conversation about me, one that was actually intended for me to hear.  It was Miss. Janet, a girl in her late 20’s who showered us with love and gifts our first year in the south, particularly when Mom was dying and she was one of the six at my 'porch' party.   It was a comfortable fall night, mid-70’s and no humidity.    Miss. Janet told how, ‘Last year, Miss Mary Beth was outside all summer long.’  Apparently she and the neighbors placed bets on how long it would take for the heat to win and for me to give up and go inside.  But to their surprise, I held my own for well over a year, taking every opportunity to be outside.   Miss Janet’s story ended with,  "It could be 95 degrees outside and she’d be sitting on her porch!  But you don’t see her ass sitting out there now!”

And Miss. Janet is right.  You don’t see 'my ass' sitting out there now  - well, at least not as much.  But I still prefer the warmer climate and have learned a few tricks along the way, like having ice water with fresh lemon on hand helps avoid heat nausea and will ease the transition from a colder climate.  And in the summer, going to the beach by 8 a.m. and leaving by 10 a.m. means you hit it when the temperature is ‘beach perfect’ and you still have your whole day ahead of you.  And, contrary to popular belief, people who live in hot climates are typically in cooler environments than our northern counterparts simply because we work and have lives here, most of which entail air conditioning.  The bay breezes here keeps the heat bearable and the Live Oaks offer so much shade that I find myself going out of my way to see the sky.

 But my big ‘ah ha’ moment happened on a pontoon boat on the hottest day in the summer with temperatures at 100+.   We were with  friends who moved here from Binghamton, NY, discussing weather when one said,  “This is our bad weather!  This is as bad as it gets (aside from the occasional hurricane that averages a hit to the same area about every 23 years), and look at what we are doing?  We’re in a boat!”  We were enjoying a ‘progressive pool party’ sailing up the bayous to host houses for food and swimming in their pools.  Yup!  That’s our bad weather!

But what I like best is the gift of ‘time’.  As mentioned in other posts, I have always had a sense of time passing – way too fast.  But the milder seasons seem to slow things down and the non-extreme temperatures offer the incentive to get out and experience life to the fullest. Not having to move and manage snow (and everything related) offers a ton more time to take advantage of all that life offers.    In my first year in Mobile, I experienced more than in my thirty up north and  I never cease to be amazed at more new adventures.  Yet, in spite of the never-ending list of cool things to do, there is more time to relax, and even tend to the daily necessities.   I've had more opportunity to reflect back on my life and often ponder how the past has prepared me for the future.   And that is what propels me to look ahead and dream, putting one foot in front of the other, as I leisurely meander through this journey called life.

Under the Blue Moon #46

 I sat there watching the blue moon last night.  Thinking, as I often do, how thankful  I am that, for this phase of my life, to live in Mobile, a world that makes so much sense to me.  But the more I looked at the moon and the diamond-like stars that dotted the universe behind it, the bigger my world became.

      I imagined that each star was it's own story with one or more people who were also looking at the blue moon, just as I. Then it occurred to me that there really were millions of people with their own stories looking at the same blue moon as me.  Here are our stories:

The weather is perfect

The night sky is clear

In the hazy glow

The moonlight illuminates the magnolias so dear

Stars shine like diamonds in the universe

   

Magnificent houses silhouetted by the indigo sky                        

Live Oaks hanging majestically  

Moonlit romance dripping off their leaves                                                                                             Casting shadows of what will be 

And perhaps on days gone by

A young girl wishing for true love 

A young man throwing it away

A child wondering whats next

A girl dreaming of  what may come

Lovers dancing under the night sky

A young woman giving birth

A happy father cheers

Babies crying

Couples fighting

Dogs barking

Deals being made

Vows being broken

 Food is shared

 As friendship’s token

                               

A lover stands crying at the graveside of love

Another lies sick in a hospital bed

Knowing that soon, he too, will be dead

A grandparent dies

A young child passes

Families are huddled, broken in ashes

My sister

               Old men drinking bourbon, reminiscing

               Old women remembering their prime

               An old man smoking a cigar

               The next fish to bite can't be far

               An old woman twirls in the breeze

               Her dress swinging in the wind

                               

              

  

                                                    

A young couple skinnydipping 

Moonlight glistens thru drops of water splashing in the night

An expecting mother waits         longingly

Another baby claims it’s right 

All under the blue moon on this beautiful starry night!

Sweet Summer Solstice 2013 #45

                

June 21 has always been my favorite day of the year because it is warm and daylight lasted nearly till 10 p.m. where I grew up.  That meant that our outdoors games of Hide and Seek and Freeze Tag were endless.  My sister Chris’s birthday is this day and as a child I was envious that on her birthday, not mine, we played outside late into the evening and stayed up even later to wind down for the night.  Summer Solstice was magical and all things related to it were like a spell that kept me mesmerized throughout my childhood and I always felt sad when the day ended.  Conversely, I dreaded December 21 and was glad when it was over because it pulled me closer to my summer solstice. 

           

I think of how much has changed over the last five years and just like so many June 21^st’s,  the smell of fresh cut grass fills the air and brings back memories of happy times of relaxing summer days  surrounded by nature, and the sounds of children playing as laughter filled the air. 

Today I feel the warm, sultry breeze of a storm that has not yet made up its mind what it wants to do.  The Live Oaks that drape the streets are swaying the in the wind and a romantic song of the air rushing through the trees is beckoning me into an afternoon nap.  I hear children splashing and swimming in their pool as though no storm lurks and my dogs, Taco and Ghost, are chasing squirrels in the yard as they run up into the trees and along the fence line as if they are saying, “Na na na na boo boo!  You can’t catch me!  I’m telling on you!”  And then, just as we did to our own mom as children, they run to the nearest branch over my head and chatter down to me – and yes they make eye contact to make sure I’m listening - and I’m certain they are saying in a squirrel’s whiney voice, “Ghost is chasing meeeeeeee!”

           

And this year the Super Moon will show itself for the first time in 18 years – how ironic - and I have visions of long walks under the stars, basking in the moonlight and drinking in the sweet scent of Ginger and Sweet Olives on Mobile Bay.  I walk down memory lane and think of the summer solstices that I thought would last forever and wish that this one would too, yet when the night ends, I will find myself putting you to bed once again, my Sweet Summer Solstice.  Good night my friend, until our paths meet again.  Happy Summer Solstice!

A Tribute to Dad on Father's Day 2013! Post #44

               With Father’s Day coming, I’ve been thinking  a lot about my dad and the patriarchs of our family.   On both sides, we were always told to look beyond the ‘here and now’ at how our own decisions, actions, and choices will affect  future generations, particularly our own children and grandchildren.

                As a kid, Dad and Grandpa (Grandpaw) never missed an opportunity to turn something into a life lesson whether an event, a story, or even a walk in nature.  It forced us to think beyond what we could see, to understand how the past relates to the present, and the present to the future for those who follow us.  They showed us life from a much broader perspective than our own reality and enabled us to see ourselves in context to the rest of the world.  Furthermore, both Dad and Grandpa made conscious decisions at certain intervals in their lives that they knew would impact their own family line.  For example, Dad was born and raised in the hills of Kentucky where boot legging and the KKK lurked in the mountainous woods until he was 13.  Grandpa had always said, “The people in the hills are either very good or very bad.  There’s not much in between.”  Knowing that the dice rolled 50/50, he made a decision to move his family out of Appalachia to Fairborn, Ohio where the kids would have a better shot at an education and would be able to see the world outside the hills.  And he was right!  His decision to uproot his family to move to a strange place and start over meant that his seven kids were positioned for better education and opportunities.   And this is what led a farm boy (Dad) from the mountains of Kentucky to serve a term in the Navy, graduate from Ohio State as an Electrical Engineer, and work for 14 years on the Gemini  space program with GE and Martin Marietta.  Dad had turned down a job offer from his commanding navy officer, Ross Perot - who had just started his own Electrical Engineering Company - to work with well-known GE and Martin Marrietta.

The Gemini program was to show that we could send more than one person to space in one capsule for an extended period of time which, at that time, was two people for two weeks.  In order to put a man aboard, they had to launch 3 successful missiles first.  The contract agreement was to send up 15 missiles.  After 8 missiles, all goals were accomplished so new goals were established, all of which were met and completed and after 12 missiles they had worked themselves out of a job by doing it so well and the last three launches were cancelled.   Martin Marietta had the launch vehicle – the house to hold everything.   Dad worked for GE and they had the radio guidance system which meant that once the ‘umbilical cord’ broke, they had to be able to remotely control the missile from the ground.  They also had the range safety system so that if the missile got out of control and posed a danger they would blow it up – which dad is thankful they never had to do. 

         Once the mission was successful, Dad and a crew of 14, including his team of 4 electrical engineers, had completed their part of the project and were then moved to a new project.  After GE he bought a struggling company called Microwave Systems – the kind of microwaves that go through space – and built the company back up and sold it in the early 80’s to Corvis, where he continued to work the first couple of years as president.

But as a child, I remember dad always talking about two things – and this is where we get into legacies and the example that he is for me.  He would take us to lumber companies and hardware stores where we would spend hours (or so it seemed to little girls who thought about fancy hats and ballet slippers) as he measured, took notes and strategized.  He said that someday, when he retired, he wanted to open a building and supply store.  And in all honesty, I often wondered, “Who does he think he is?  He’s not a business owner!  He’s an electrical engineer!”  What that was I hadn’t a clue!’  All knew was that his briefcase – which he would never let us open unless he was there – was filled with proctors, graph paper with what looked like encrypted drawings, and various types of instruments that did not even remotely resemble the everyday tools that were in those stores.

The other thing he talked about was moving into the country to buy land and do enough farming to feed his family from the fruits.  These two dreams were so far from where our lives were, yet he scrimped, saved, and planned, even when those around him did not see the value or the feasibility of attaining his goal, nor did we like living on a tight budget that meant we didn’t always get what we wanted when we wanted it.   But Dad knew it would mean a better tomorrow.  And so many times we must have felt like dead weight, being pulled along to a place we couldn’t see nor did we have the faith to believe in.  During that time, I would often find Dad reading the bible and studying books about money, how it works, and how to live your passions.  In 1977 he moved us north and shortly after I graduated from High School, after retiring from Corvis, he retired he opened his first Building and Home Center, then purchased Agway Farm and Feed Store, and has since bought into the ACE Hardware system. 

What impresses me most is that Dad had a vision just like Grandpa did.  He saw the long-term value and knew what was best for his family.  All of the sacrifices resulted in us having a healthy and vibrant dad who still runs multiple businesses and travels the country in his 80's.  Did I mention that he and our step-mom went para-sailing and paddle boarding 2 years ago?

But there is more about Dad as a family man; like the time we were at a church camp swimming hole and Dad was on a hill fully clothed in his suit, glasses, watch and good shoes  and we were in the water.  My sister Sandy (Gug) stepped off of a drop-off and began struggling while Kare and I begged the adults in the water to help, particularly the fat guy next to us flirting with a woman, who we punched and scratched his back to get his attention to no avail, when suddenly like a flash out of nowhere Dad ran down the hill and dove into the water, suit, glasses, shoes, watch, wallet and all and pulled her out before the adults who were right there knew it was happening.  

Then there was the camping trip when we were hiking in the woods by a shallow river with big rocks in the middle.  Dad had a state-of-the-art, 35 millimeter camera that captured our whole lives to that point.    We’d have ‘slide nights’ on the ‘big screen’ with popcorn.  He asked me go get his camera.  Coming back, just as I was handing it to him, I slipped on a rock and both the camera and I were under water.  Dad grabbed my arm and pulled me out as I begged forgiveness for getting the camera wet.  But his reaction surprised me when he said, “Honey, I don’t care about the camera!  All I care about is you!”  The camera never worked again and our slide shows came to a screeching halt.  I knew we couldn’t afford another one, yet nothing was ever said about it again.

Dad was also the greatest boyfriend scarer, creep warder-off-er, and jerk prevention expert a girl could ask – and may I say we did not always appreciate that at the time.  Many would-be beaus were scared off and only the boldest and bravest made it past our front door.  One time Dad and I were walking into the house when a two guys in a car yelled some vulgar things to me.  I had no idea who they were but my first thought was, “Oh crap!  Dad’s going to think I know them or that I somehow attracted that kind of attention!”  Dad ordered me back in the car and, as though we were on a high-speed police chase and he was the cop, we screeched out of the driveway and flew down the road then whipped around another corner just in time to see the other car come to an abrupt stop in a dirt driveway and two figures, unidentifiable in the cloud of dust, ran into a house.

Dad ordered me to stay in the car and, like a bat out of hell, ran up and pounded on the door so hard that it actually bowed in each time his fist connected to the door and I was certain it was going to break in half and fly off the hinges.  Finally, the door opened a crack and a voice said, “Mr. Deaton, that was ‘Steve’ who did that and he said to tell you he’s sorry!”  Dad ordered ‘Steve’ to come out but the voice said, “Mr. Deaton, he’s hiding in the back room and won’t  come out because he’s afraid!”  After several attempts, Dad made it clear that if they ever come near any of his daughters  or if he ever catches them talking to any girl like that again, he will ‘beat the tar’ out of them.  The voice, shaken and high pitched, assured him that they would not ever do that again.  We never knew who the voice was.

Twenty five years later, I was at work when my employees told me a man who looked like he stepped out of the Gentlemen Quarterly magazine and driving a Lamborghini stopped in to see me.  He told them he went to school with me and hasn’t seen me for 25 years.  I had missed him and spent the next two months wondering who on earth it was.  I was across the street when my employees paged me and said, “The GQ guy is back to see you!”    Full of curiosity, I ran back over and after a guessing game that GQ made me participate in, I still had no idea.  Finally, he identified himself.  He was a shy, seemingly nice kid from an extremely poor and dysfunctional home life with deplorable conditions.  He explained that he had recently retired from the Navy after 20 years and that his life had gone quite well and there were two people he had always wanted to go back to see to let know that he had done well with his life and that was my dad and I.  In high school, though we hung with many of the same people, he never said 'boo' so I didn’t know why he picked me or my dad, whom I was certain he didn’t know.

“But I do know your dad!” he explained.  “Do you remember when some guys yelled some things to you and you and your dad chased them down?   Well, I was the guy behind the door!  And let me tell you, we were shitting bricks!  But up until that day, I never saw a man who loved and protected his daughters like that and I realized that that is the kind of father I wanted to be.   I have a daughter now and if anyone ever said that to her, I’d be just like ‘Brant’!”   What struck me most is that he knew Dad’s first name (we were new in town at that time and it was years before Dad actually worked up there.)  But he explained that, that day changed his life and he had always wanted to make Dad proud.  He did go see Dad after that and apologized and told him the same story.  And Dad was proud!

There were the many nights when for whatever reason, there was a knock at the door at 2 a.m. and Dad would grab his gun and order us to stay up the stairs and we’d all hover on the stairway as he opened the door pointing the gun and saying, “What do you need?”  This happened when the man fell into our well in the middle of the night – another story – and when people broke down in the country, or when some dumb smart alec thought it was okay to come visiting at 2 a.m.  Regardless, we always knew that as long as Dad was around, we were safe.

Dinner time was always the best because no matter what, we ate around the table and that was when we saw dad at his best;  happy, joking, and all of us went to the dinner table expecting to laugh, talk, share, and relax, and always feeling a little more connected afterwards.

When I think of Dad, I think of safety.  I think of perseverance and vision.  Having a dream, a goal, and a vision even when others can’t,  or won’t, and going for it because not only is it best for him, it is best for those who depended on him to be healthy and happy.  As children, our vacations were filled with nature, blue skies and, ironically, rocket ships, military planes, and the history of our country.  And every time the national anthem played and I saw the American flag and the blue sky and my Dad’s blue eyes, I thought that somehow, they were all inter-related.  It all had something to do with Dad.  Whenever I put my hand over my heart to say the Pledge of Allegiance, I think of Dad and Grandpa, who dared to dream, dared to step out of their comfort zones and embark on new adventures for the betterment of themselves and the future generations of their family.  I think of the time that both served our country and, the more I do so, the more I am convinced that it is all related; Dad’s blue eyes, the blue skies, the American flag, safety, peace, security, and love.  Yes!  They are definitely all related!