Letter to the Editor - Thank You Linton Schools

To all faculty, staff, and administrators of Linton Stockton Schools:

On May 23^rd 2009 the last of our two sons graduated from Linton Stockton High School.  Now that both sons have passed through the Linton School system my wife and I want to say a few things concerning the education that they have received.

The day that our oldest son entered Kindergarten my wife and I knew that education would be a partnership.  A partnership between us and the schools that my sons would be passing through.  I knew that we had to do our part in order to ensure that our sons would receive the full benefit of the education that the Linton schools system provided.   If the partnership was healthy and the communication lines were always maintained then my sons would receive the best chance for a good education.   We may not have always agreed with how every teacher taught or how they ran their class, but the partnership allowed us to bring these disagreements to the teacher and the staff.   At no time did we ever feel that our opinion did not matter or was not wanted.  We may not have always agreed with every policy that the Linton school system enacted, but we understood that they were sometimes forced to make changes based upon guidelines coming from a higher authority than the Linton School Board.

There are times when we felt that our sons needed to be pushed more in order to achieve more.  This is really the only major complaint that we have with the Linton school systems.  There should be classes or programs available for those students who wish to be challenged more than the standard classes provided.   Some students want to be prepared better for the colleges that they will be attending after graduation.  When my wife and I attended the Linton school system, the classes seemed harder and the tests seemed harder.  The math, science, and English areas demanded more from the students in the past than they seemed to today. We feel that the weakening of these areas do not prepare them as well for college as in the past. 

All in all it has been a great partnership and with May 23^rd 2009 graduation day passing, our time with the Linton school system is over.   We want to thank all those faculty, staff, and administrators that have been partnered with us for the past 15 years.  You all do great work and do not receive the pay deserved for the important job you do.  We felt that we needed to express our thanks and to let you know that our prayers are with you as you continue to teach in these somewhat trying times.

To all those that have children in the Linton school system, or anywhere for that matter, please realize it is a partnership and you must do your part in order to ensure the best possible education for your child.  Attend all the parent teacher conferences and get involved with your child’s education.   Do not just think that it is the schools job only.  Your child needs you to be involved with what they are learning and how they are doing.

Letter to the Editor - School Reviews

I am writing this letter in response to the articles in the newspaper lately about the quality of our local schools.  Our schools are being reviewed about how well they are teaching our kids.  What the reviews leave out is how much we as parents and guardians have contributed to the low review scores.  What people seem to forget is that the schools are there to teach our kids and should be heavily reviewed for how well they do this task.  But we as parents play a much greater role than the school at how well our kids learn what was taught.  If we do not ensure that our children do their homework, then is that the school's fault?  If our kids tell us they have done their homework but we do not check it for errors, then is that the school's fault?  If we do not ensure that our kids get a good night sleep, then is that the school's fault?  If we do not show up for the parent teacher conferences, then is that the school's fault?  If we let the TV or the Internet be a babysitter to our children, then is that the school's fault?  If we let our kids friends be more of an influence then we are, then is that the school's fault?  You see when you and I took on the task of being a parent or guardian.  We took on the responsibility of ensuring that our kids do their part in learning what was taught in school.  We are to be completely aware of all things that our kids are doing at school.  We should not just shrug off bad performance reviews as just the school’s problem, but we should first look in the mirror and ask how much of the problem falls on our shoulders as parents or guardians.  So when you see all these bad performance reviews for our area school we need to ask “What would have been my review as a parent during this time?”  Schools should be reviewed and held to task for not teaching our kids well.  But they cannot be held responsible for teaching a child who does not want to learn and has parents or guardians that do not care either.   If we want to see our school reviews get better, then lets all do our part at getting more involved in our children's world.

A Good Dog; A Hard Decision

               Cathy and I had not been married very long before we moved back into Linton from Terre Haute, where I attended college.  We bought a new 14x70 mobile home, our very first home together.  We both decided that we did not want any children at this point in our lives, but felt that there would be nothing wrong with getting a dog to keep Cathy company when I would be gone to classes at ISU.  So when we both had a free day we decided to go “dog looking”.  When you live in a small town there are only a few options when looking for a dog.  You either know someone whose dog had just had puppies, expectedly or unexpectedly, or you checked out the local animal shelters.  We chose the latter as we knew of very few people that had dogs in the family way as of yet.  In Greene County there was at the time a system of having certain families keep strays and unwanted pets on their own property.  The humane society would then send you to these people’s homes to see what animals were available.  It was at one of these pet boarding facilities that we found the dog that would become our companion for the next 10 years.  There he was with his brothers and sisters running among the chickens and other animals that inhabited that particular pet farm.  It was a little difficult choosing which one to take, but he had some sort of quality that stood out from the others.  Too this day I cannot remember what quality that was, maybe it was a mixture of fate and the speed at which he approached us out of the pack, beating those chickens by a good margin.  You can’t tell much about a dog when you only see them as a puppy and you only have the word of the people that dropped him off as to what breed he may be, but we were assured that there was some husky and something else in this puppy and that it would probably not get too big.  Well they were right on the size, but as we found out later on, the parents were most likely a miniature collie and a German shepherd.  Cathy carried the puppy like a mother caring her child back to the Toyota for our short trip home.  On the trip home we discussed several training methods for raising the puppy.  We never settled on one in particular, but decided on several we were not going to do because of past failures each of us witnessed in our short lifetimes.  Arriving home we proceeded to introduce the puppy to its new home, thinking that this was probably the right thing to do, since we did just extract the puppy from its only nuclear family it has ever known.  The puppy settled right in and proceeded to soil the carpeting.  While Cathy and I were cleaning the little gift up, we discussed what we should name our new family member.  After much discussion we settled on “Falcon”.  This came from the fact that I have always liked Louis La’mour and his Sackett family in particular.  Falcon Sackett was the father of Lando Sackett.  This western theme will continue through many of the names of future pets and children for Cathy and me.  Falcon then proceeded to change both our lives.  Before the pet we had only each other to worry about, but now we had the added responsibilities of caring for a pet.  During this time I worked at a local naval base as a computer programmer.  My co-workers would often have to put up with my stories about what Falcon had put Cathy and I through and had often commented that after Cathy and I had our first child that my stories of Falcon had somehow been replaced by stories on being a new parent.  I guess they were right about the fact that I did relate stories about Falcon like he was my child, but I have always felt that having a pet is like having the responsibility of another life to look after and care for.  I have been asked several times by friends thinking about becoming a parent and asking my opinion on how it changed my life.  I would always respond that if they want to test being a parent they should go and get themselves a puppy.  For if you can’t handle a puppy, then being a parent is ten times worse.  They would look at me in somewhat of a shock, but it is true and maybe the world would have less children from broken homes if there was a law that forced couples to try this method first.  It probably would have saved a lot of kids from a lot of hurt, but I digress.  Falcon grew and was fairly easy to house break.  We did have to sacrifice the occasional shoe or piece of wall trim, but that was to be expected.  He grew up to be a very pretty dog, he stood about a foot and a half tall with a tan coat, a white front and a black tail that would curl over his back, which is the reason he looked like a husky when he was a pup.  He was good tempered, getting along with most everybody.  Above all else he was loving companion for Cathy and myself during the trying getting-started years.  He was three years old when our first son was born and seven years old when our last son was born.  He took to them rather easily, but they did not take to him as well as Cathy and I did, not having seen him grow from a puppy, they were sort of overwhelmed by him when they were little and never really bonded to him like they would our later dogs.  I don’t really remember when, but sometime when Falcon was about 3 or 4 Cathy decided to buy a poodle puppy that her sister’s dog was going to give birth to.  I never really felt convertible with the decision to bring a new dog into our somewhat small mobile home, but she assured me that she would use her own money and that she would take care of it also.  Not having the experience of a man married for years and knowing when to follow his inner voice, I said yes.  It was with that little word that we again increased the size of our family by one, with one poodle named “Rowdy”.  The western theme continued as this name had been taken from the old Rawhide television show.  Falcon and Rowdy seemed to get along fine.  Falcon lived through Rowdy’s puppy stage and the constant need to be played with and even grew to like having Rowdy around.  Through this time Cathy and I moved into our first real (non-mobile) home.  Which was my old home, having just bought it from my folks, who conveniently bought our mobile home.  The dogs, the kids, Cathy and I all made the move without a hitch and settled into our new home, which we are in today.  Pets are a funny thing, when they are young you are constantly taking care of them and cleaning up after them.  When they get older you tend to treat them as furniture, only paying attention to them when you need to and really not seeing them as you make your way around the house.  Until; the day comes that every pet own should be told about, the day your constant companion gets sick.  We first noticed Rowdy’s eyes getting cloudy little by little.  The doctor said that it was cataracts, and that pure bred dogs have that problem.  Faced with the dilemma of having a blind dog was not an easy one, but Rowdy started to have seizures also.  The doctor indicated that they were like epileptic seizures and that they would steadily get worse.  One day Rowdy had one of his seizures at the top of the basement stairs and fell down to the bottom.  It was then that Cathy and I discussed the option of having him put to sleep.  We did not like to talk about it, but we knew that it was for the best.  This is where I should have listened to my inner voice earlier, as Cathy said she could not take Rowdy to the vets, to get this done and that I would have to do it.  I felt my stomach tightened at the thought of this, but knew that it had to be done before Rowdy hurt himself worse and suffered even more.  Cathy called the vet and asked them when I could bring him down and they set up a time.  When the time approached Cathy picked up Rowdy and holding back her tears she said her good-byes.  The Kids were another story as they were a little young to understand, but we did have to talk to them about why Rowdy would not be around anymore.  I then carried Rowdy out to the truck and drove him down to the vet’s.  During the ride he would look up at me with the clouded over eyes and paw at my hand resting on the seat.  This did not make my job any easier.  Try as I might I could not go through with it without crying in the vet’s office.  When ask if they should dispose of the body, I said “No”, as I believed I owed Rowdy a proper burial, even if it was only out back of the house.  With tears streaming down my face I paid the vet and they gave me the body of Rowdy.  I gently placed Rowdy in the truck bed and drove him home.  I retrieved a shovel out of the garage and dug a hole in the back of the property.  If the neighbors saw me do this they did not say, but I can imagine I was a sight.  I dug and prayed for Rowdy, cried and dug, and generally made myself into a bigger mess.  Once the hole was dug, I gently placed him into it and with a few more words of prayer I filled in the grave.  Once back in the house Cathy, with tears in her eye ask me if it was done, I said “yes”, hating her for bringing another dog into the house and for making me put him to sleep.  I know now that this was just the pain at losing a companion talking, and that she loved the dog more than I ever did.  Falcon noticed that his partner was no longer around and if he showed any remorse I do not know, but I do remember him looking around the house for him several days, but eventually he must have sensed Rowdy being sick and understood that dogs do go away, even those that you helped raise from a puppy.

            Through the next several years the kids grew and Falcon grew older and wiser.  Knowing when to play and when to stay away from a couple of growing kids.   He was a good watch dog and a good listener when you had to talk and no one around to listen.  He was a fearless dog, but had one thing that always brought terror into him; lightening.  I think when he was a puppy a storm came upon us quicker than we expected.  Falcon was outside doing his business and lightning struck close to the house.  Since then Falcon would sense when a storm would come and find a way to be either on your lap or under your feet until the threat passed.  He kept a close eye on the kids when they played outside, but as the year progressed he played less and less.  I think he grew wiser knowing when to really play and when to conserve his energy.  He always met me at the door when I came home from work, even though on some bad days I did not notice.  It was that unnoticed loyalty that makes having a pet something special.

            One day Cathy and I noticed a spot forming on his rear end that we thought we should discuss with the Vet.  We made arrangements to take him one day for an examination.  The vet concluded that is was a cyst and that some dogs get these when they get older and that an operation would have to be done in order to remove it.  Cathy and I decided to have this procedure done and the vet removed the cyst.  Only he indicated that he did a good job in removing the cyst, but he could not guarantee that they would not return.  We both listened to this with apprehension, remembering Rowdy’s seizures.  Knowing that they would come again, but not knowing when.  I remember thinking that having an operation on your dog is good, but when do you draw the line and say that the money could be better spent somewhere else.  Is it a sin to spend $175 on an operation time after time, when you can barely save money for your kid’s college.  This is another lesson that you have to learn when owning a pet.  You can get several opinions from various people who own dogs, but none of them can relate to the situation you find yourself in.  The cyst did come back and Cathy and I fretted over the situation again.  This time though mom and dad knew what we were going through and they offered to pay for half of the operation.  We thought this over and accepted their offer.  After the second operation the Vet indicated that it was very evasive and that if he got another cyst that they could not operate on him again as he would lose all muscle control in that region.  I think this was God’s way of answering our question earlier and we accepted the situation as just another trial in owning a pet.

            In 1993, Cathy and I decided to give our 1941 house a complete face lift.  We proceeded to gut the house from top to bottom and have a complete remodel job done.  During this time Cathy, the kids and I moved in with Cathy’s parents and Falcon moved in with my folks.  Falcon really took to living with mom and dad as he was older and enjoyed being a lap dog for older people.  I think he got plenty of rest during those days and even though he jumped for joy when we visited, he also enjoyed having mom and dad’s sedate life style to contend with.  No kids running around and yelling to be wary of, only a couple who just loved to sit and pet him and praise him for being such a good dog.  We moved backed into our new-old home in August of 1993.  The house finally felt like it was really mine, not just the house of my parents.  The house was expanded and brought up to today’s code, for wiring, plumbing and insulation.  Falcon took to it rather easily.  He hesitated to explore the new house at first.  Looking for that smell that should have been there but was not.  He had new rooms to explore and new sounds to get used too.  All the stairs were redesigned to be less steep and I think he appreciated that, what with getting older and all. 

            We were in the house about a year when Cathy and I were awakened by Falcon.  He was lying on the floor and having what seemed to be convulsions.  He shook and jerked through every effort of ours to wake him.  I then noticed that he was forming at the mouth and decided to carry him into the bathroom.  I lifted his shaking body and placed him on the linoleum next to the stool.  Cathy and I discussed what could be the matter and we very concerned about the foaming at the mouth.  He then stopped shaking and groggily looked about, but his look can only be described as empty.  Cathy and I both talked to him, but he seemed not to know who we were or where he was.  It was after a few minutes that he turned on us.  Without warning he leaped at me while I was trying to get him to recognize us.  I stood back and retreated out the bathroom closing the door behind.  Cathy and I were both very worried then, especially with the foaming and all.  We decided to call my father and ask him to come over and help.  With what I can only remember as a very disturbed voice, I woke mom and dad from a sound sleep.  Dad took only a few minutes to come over and Cathy and I filled him in on what happened.  Dad listened intently and then decided to try to talk to Falcon himself.  He opened the bathroom door and to our surprise Falcon had managed to wedge himself behind the stool.  Dad talked and Falcon only growled.  Dad asked if he ate anything out of the ordinary lately or if he picked up something from the yard.  We replied that we did not think so, and Dad then brought up the possibility that he could have been poisoned.  Cathy and I both refused to believe that possibility, but we were both concerned over what had happened to him.  Dad and I then decided to cover Falcon with a towel and carry him outside.  This would be better in case we had to take him to the vet or have him look at him.  Cathy and I also were concerned about our sons coming down the stairs and seeing him in that state.  We managed to extract him from behind the stool and carry him outside.  I then hooked his collar to the chain we had outside for him to run around on.  We removed the towel and let him go.  Falcon then proceeded to growl and snap at no direction in particular.  He then ran across the yard until the chain came taught, where he was jerked on his back.  He then started the process over again.  We decided to wait until the vet’s office opened and Dad would help me take him to get checked.  As it was still 5:30 in the morning, we decided to watch him and ensure that he did not hurt himself.  Dad went back to the trailer to wait my call and I sat down on the front porch to try to talk Falcon back to reality.  It seemed that every time I spoke he would become angrier, so I left him to him pain and went in the house to talk things over with Cathy.  She was very worried, as was I, but there was not really anything we could do.  I waited inside for as long as I could.  I went to the porch to just sit and watch Falcon.  He was struggling with the chain and running back and forth whenever he built his energy back up.  On one trip across the lawn he snapped the chain.  As I watched him streak across the lawn, I could only think of the neighbors.  I was very worried of a loose dog with possible rabies running amok in the neighborhood.  I grabbed the towel we used and in my bare feet I streaked across the lawn behind him.  I cannot attest to being a fast man, but when your adrenaline is rushing the body can do many things.  I caught up with him after what seemed like hours and tackled him on mom and dad’s lawn.  He buckled under me, but I was able to place the towel over his head and calm him down somewhat.  Dad managed to get me a rope and we tied up to the basketball goal that was bordering our yard.  I removed the towel and he tried to leap at me then, so I decided to back off and let him calm down a little.  All during this time his eyes showed nary a sign that there was anything behind them that remembered anyone or anything.  About 6:10 my Mom decided to come over and as she passed Falcon on the lawn, she spoke to him.  He turned his head and growled in her direction.  She was concerned and hurt as Cathy and I was that he would not recognize her either.  We stood out on the lawn and tried to speak to him and I even inched closer to him to try to get the towel around him.  Hoping that maybe if he was warmer he would come out of whatever world he was in.  It was then that I noticed that he did not seemed to mind my touches so much and that he even responded to them somewhat.  Mom said that he seemed to be calming down and it was as she spoke that I noticed his eyes as he turned to me.  I thought he was going to leap at me, but his eyes seemed to come back into focus and it was then that I knew he recognized me.  His tail started to wag and he tried to get closer to me, only the rope was holding him back.  Dad and Mom both recognized that he was back and Cathy even waved from the house indicating she saw what was going on also.  I looked down at my dog that has been with us for close to ten years and felt a wave of relief that he would be OK, for now anyway.  It was not too long after the incident that Cathy and I had to face the fact that Falcon was very ill.  Having gone through the painful process with Rowdy did not make it any easier to have Falcon put to sleep.  He was a great dog and it was with many tears that we had him put to sleep.  We buried him in the back yard with as much reverence as we could and to this day I can never pass by the spot in the lawn without thinking about how great a dog he was to a young couple starting out and to the kids who thought he was part of the family.

The Value of a Tooth

     My eight-year-old son Logan, was eating a piece of pizza and to his surprise his loose tooth came out.  After finding the tooth on the floor he promptly placed it on the table for safe keeping.  And like all kids his age he soon forgot about it.  My wife and I discussed whether or not to give him money for his tooth.  As he was of the age where the Tooth Fairy did not mean too much to him any more.  After some debate we exchanged his tooth for two quarters.  The next day we told him to look on the table.  There he found the money had replaced his tooth and he gladly picked upped the quarters and placed them in his bank.  That day he went to visit his Grandpa and told him about the pizza pulling out his tooth.  “Well how much was that worth to you?” his Grandpa asked.  To which Logan replied, “two dollars”.  My wife, overhearing this pointed out to Logan that he did not receive two dollars for the tooth.  “But Mom”, Logan replied, “Grandpa asked me what the tooth was worth, not what I got!”

When a Longtime Minister Leaves

         By the time you read this newsletter Rod and Verian we be officially gone.  One of Rod's last words to us as a congregation was "Don’t Quit".  Well I am going to take these words a little farther to "Don't Quit and Don't Slow Down".  We have come a long way as a body of believers in the past few years.  We have grown spiritually, as well as in number.  We have grown closer together as we strive each day to do the Lord's will.  In order to keep this level up we need to keep moving in step with the Lord.  If we do that we will continue to grow and reach new spiritual levels that we have never seen before.  I know there are some who will distance themselves from the Church during this time.  Some who will say "I am not being fed by the interim minister" or "I can stay at home and study until the new minister comes" or some who say "Well we can miss this Sunday, it is only a fill-in anyway".  God wants us to be together on Sunday worshipping Him.  Good worship begins inside us all and we need to not distance ourselves from the Church during a time when I feel God may be testing our dedication to Him.  Let's not slow down for God during this time.  The Lord needs you in Church worshipping Him.  Your fellow brothers and sisters need you in Church praying and comforting one another.  Please let's not quit, lets not slow down, and above all let's not fail this test.  I know God will reward this Church if we stay the course and remain strong doing God's work and God's will.

                          See you Sunday

                         

The Problem With Re-Releasing a Star Wars Movie

     For his 6^th birthday, my son received tickets to the re-release of Star Wars.  These tickets had to be purchased the day before the showing as the theater anticipated a sell out.  Well,  that made my son’s day as he loves everything about Star Wars and can talk at length about any Star Wars movie topic.  The tickets were given by my brother and his wife who also purchased tickets for themselves.  So the day  was planned, we would drive to Terre Haute and pick  up my sister-in-law and her two kids, Nick who is eight and Alex who is four.  My brother would be meeting us at the theater when he got off work.  We were told to arrive at the theater one half hour before the movie started to ensure we could sit together.  We  arrived at the required time, but to our dismay there was not seven seats together.  So I volunteered to sit with my son Logan, the birthday boy and that my other son Jacob could sit with my brother’s kids as they had found five seats together.  Once the popcorn and drinks were purchased it was then a matter of entertaining my son for a half an hour until the movie started.  My sister-in-law was doing the same and waiting for her spouse to arrive.  Finally, after exhausting every known means of entertaining a new six year old I could think of, the movie began.  After about thirty seconds into the movie my four year old niece Alex yelled at her mother “Mom! Mom!”.  My sister-in-law who was just settling into a relaxing two hours of the new enhanced Star Wars responds, “What is it Alex?”.   “Mom!” Alex replied. “I have already seen this movie!”

Thank Goodness For The Longevity of Rock Stars

Occasionally I would have to transport my two sons in my truck.  Now the radio in my truck is usually tuned into a country or classic rock station.  My sons would wine and complain about listening to my music whenever they traveled with me.  One day while we were traveling I had my favorite classic rock station tuned in on the radio.  Well it did not take too long for the kids to tell me to quit listening to oldies and get with the modern stuff.  Well I said “Ok what station do you want to listen to?”  they both yelled one hundred point seven mix FM and proceeded to turn the radio dial to that station.  Once the station was found I listened for a few seconds and asked them both “you like this group”?  My oldest son said “yeah, they rock”.  Where upon I asked him if he knew the name of the band that was playing.  He said ‘sure, everyone knows Aerosmith.  This is their hit single”.  I then reached over and hit one of the preset buttons on the radio set to the classic rock station we were just on and told them “funny that is the same Aerosmith that is playing here and you called them old”.  Well they both were stunned that we could like the same band.  Just to add insult to injury I said to them “you know Aerosmith was one of the first 8-tracks I bought when I got my first car.” 

To My Dad

Dad you were diagnosed with Cancer in September and by late December you were gone.  Even though it has only been a few hours since I sat next to you and told you good bye.  I am still hurting inside.  I know that the rock that I leaned on all of my life is gone and I will now have to make it on my own.  I know I still have Cathy, the kids, Mom, and my brothers to lean on but they can not replace the special bond a son has for his father.  You have left this world for Heaven a better place I know, but you did not leave the world void.  You have taught me many things which will help me to make it through now without you.  

Dad you taught me that there is more to this world than just Linton.  You were a man who loved to travel and explore.  And I know if you were born in a time long past you would have roamed the seas or climbed the mountains just because you had the itch in you to see what was out there.  That itch is in me and it is something I will treasure.  You showed me the beauty of this land and that it is not the destination but that it is the getting there that is the most fun.

Dad you showed me how to serve others.  You ran two restaurants and lived by the concept of the customer always being right.  I worked hard in both those places and served many a person.  I look back at that time and found that learning to serve others is what God wants out of all of us.  You taught this to me early on, but it has not been very many years back that I found out that serving is what my gift from God really is.  For this dad I say thanks.  

            Dad you showed me patience in the way you raised my brothers and I.  You let us all try to stand on our own, but you always were there if we needed a hand getting up when we fell.  Dad do you remember when you took us all to Canada fishing? All of us in one boat.  Six lines trolling at once.  Catching more snags than fish, but every once in awhile a fish would be caught.  Now that was patience dad.  It is that type of patience I have needed when speaking from the pulpit.  I know the lines are out, but sometimes I need to wait to see if a catch is made for the Lord.   Your patience is with me Dad and I hope it always will be.

            You showed me that your home was OK, but there was a time when I needed to leave and to make my way in the world.  But I always knew you and mom would be watching me wherever I went. 

Dad you taught me to overcome.  You taught me that a man with only one thumb still could do anything he wanted.  You never hid it or made excuses for missing a thumb.  You never called it a disability.  For you dad it was a challenge that you met and conquered in your life.  I can still recall the time when I was a junior in high school.  One of my friends approached me and asked ‘When did your dad lose his thumb?’  And I told him the story and he said he never really noticed it was missing until recently.  You overcame that which others would call a hardship.  I hope to be just as good at overcoming the obstacles in my life as you have shown me dad.

Dad you taught me right from wrong early on in my life.  You taught me that there are not shades of gray when it comes to doing right.  I guess this comes out mostly in my sermons dad and for that I am grateful.

And finally dad the most important thing you taught me was to know the Lord.  We went to church as a family for many years and the seed was planted.   Over the years that seed has been watered and cultivated.  I now view Christ as the center of my life and it is all because you and mom took me to church and ensured that I knew what the Bible said.  The reason this is the most important is because it is through Christ that you and I will see each other again.  You rededicated your life to Christ not long ago and I know that your acknowledgment of Him before men is what was truly needed in your life.  That walk you took down the isle was the cure for your cancer.  I hope you are having good talks with all those that have gone before you and that you are exploring heaven for yourself, because I will need a tour guide when I get there and I know of no one better to show me the beauty of Heaven.

Missing you very much

                                                     Your Son

Memories

The old man pulled the car over to the side of the gravel road and shut the engine off. Peering out the driver side window he looked down the path that was barely visible through the covered snow.  As he opened the car door he grabbed his cane thinking that he may need it to steady himself on the walk. Closing the car door he just stood there looking at the surrounding area. He recognized some things that time and the seasons could not erase, but those were few.  Leaving the car behind he headed up the path toward what he had traveled so many miles and years to come see.  He was relieved that the path was somewhat smooth and that he brought his cane.  His legs were not what they used to be and he had learned to remember his frailties.  Glancing around he saw the sign on the tree indicating he was at the right place at the right time. So sad he thought but such is life.  Having lost his wife of 60 years recently and just a year out of watching his only brother breathe his last breath he knew that time could not be stopped.

The air was cold but the sky was clear and this somewhat invigorated his steps.  The path curved a little at this point and he was very pleased to see the ash tree was still standing. The tire swing was no longer there but the scar it left behind on the limb was. How many times did his brother and he swing on that tire he wondered?  Looking up the path he got a glimpse of the old homestead.  He was not ready for how far it had decayed. He fought back the tears but still they came.  It was like looking at his brother as he died. He was the shell of the person he grew up with and no matter how much he wanted to restore him to the brother who pushed that tire swing he could not.  He just sat with him in that hospital and talked to his brother as his life ebbed away.  He talked about the old home and growing up together hoping the smiles he drew from his brother would somehow ease the pain he was going through.  He looked at the house and the same feelings he had with his brother reawakened.  Feelings of wanting to restore something but not having the ability to do it.  Walking further he approached the front of the house. If there was one thing he was grateful for it was that the house had not been vandalized.  No graffiti or random human destruction here, just time and the weather.  The front porch was mostly there but he was not going to enter the house as he still respected his frailties and also feared the boards were not in the best of shape anymore.  The screen door was gone and replaced with a more modern aluminum door that still could not hold up to time  Closing his eyes he could still hear his mom opening the screen door on a summer day and shouting out to him and his brother that it was time to get washed up for dinner.  The screen door would slam shut behind her as she went back in to make sure dinner was just right.  Opening his eyes he looked down and spotted the porch support post that they used to tie up their several dogs. Sure enough the marks were still present where the chain had dug in holding back some very active puppies.  All their dogs were tied up as puppies until they were old enough to understand the limits of the property.  He smiled as he remembered the many dogs they had around the house.  Looking back at the woods to the left of the house he tried to remember where all the dogs were buried.  Most died of old age but a few died of sicknesses that were common to dogs that roamed free and sometimes ate things they should not have or fought with things that they should have left alone. His dad loved dogs and always believed that when their time had come they should be buried by those that loved them. This was something he always tried to do with all the dogs he has had in his life.  It somehow brought closure and contributed to remembering their dogs. 

Moving left around the front porch he searched for evidence of the garden patch his mom and dad had sweated over for so many years. He could not find any evidence other than the land being cleared and guessed that the next owners saw no value in raising food from the ground.  They probably turned the whole thing into a yard to be mowed. He recalled the many seasons of his dad plowing and tilling the ground. His mom fretting over what to plant each year. He remembered how he and his brother would plead with her to plant more corn and less peas, but she would always say that a variety of vegetables will make you grow strong and wise.  A plead to dad would always get the same response that mom was in charge of what to plant.  Looking back he reckoned that she was a very wise person. How else can you explain that he reached 81 years old unless it was a good foundation of fresh and canned vegetables from the garden.  Still the garden always seemed so routine to him at the time. Dad tilled, mom planted, he and his brother weeded, harvest and then many days of canning.  Then the next year it would start over again. Back then he felt it was so boring but today he knew the value of money and the food that the small plot of land produced was more valuable than gold, except the peas of course.

Moving around to the back of the house he looked back into the woods and spotted the area where the outhouse was. He knew it would be gone because those who purchased the house after his parents passed away could not fathom using an outhouse when they could have a bathroom put in the house.  He agreed with their thinking but also wondered how many funny stories they missed by not having an outhouse. He could not begin to count the number of times his brother played a joke on him while he was in there trying to do his business and the many times he got even.  Still he had to acknowledge that his old bones would not like a trip out here in the middle of winter and really admired his mom and dad for continuing to use the outhouse into their old age.  His mom, he thought, could bring grace and dignity to having to use an outside bathroom, and there were very few who could do that.  He remembered the nice touches she added to make the place a little more pleasing, but even she could not overcome the smell the place had in the summer.  Still she made even using an outside facility more bearable.  The back porch was in pretty good shape, but he still did not want to risk entering the house.  Just like the front porch support post, the back one also had the marks where the dogs were chained.  While the front yard was used for the dogs to watch all the comings and goings on the property, the back yard was for feeding and sleeping.  There was an area to the right of the back porch where the dogs could crawl under the porch and sleep out of the weather. He and his brother also used to hide under that porch when playing cowboys and Indians. It was an adventure under there and using their imagination they could create so many different worlds.  Their mom did not like them playing under the porch mostly because she was the one who had to clean their clothes and patch the occasional tear created by exposed nails or splintered wood.  The back yard also brought up the memories of all the wood that was split for heating and sometimes cooking.  Living next to a wooded area provided an endless supply of wood to burn to keep the family warm during the cold winter.  His dad would cut the trees down and they would all pitch in to get the wood ready to split and stack. He thought that even though it was hard work he liked splitting and stacking wood better than weeding the garden. He figured it was all the wood cutting and splitting that gave him the broad shoulders his late wife always talked about. He looked down at his hands and thought about how calloused they were for most of his life. He always felt that was a badge of honor and the shame of getting older was that he has lost his callouses and sometimes deep down he felt his usefulness to the world also.  Age will do that to you he knew and it takes more and more work to show others you can still do something.  He continues to fight long and hard to not rely on anyone else in his life but age is slowly but steadily beating him in that battle.  He was somewhat grateful that his wife passed away before him because he always felt that part of being married was he had to ensure she was always cared for.  It was his job as a husband and he never wanted to let her down.  As he thinks of their 60 years together he smiles knowing he never let her down on that obligation.  Even at the end of her life when Alzheimer’s took away her memory of him, he never left her side. Instead he sat, praying for the days when she would come back to him and just say his name.  When those days came he held her hand and talked to her and told her he was there.  She smiled and said she loved him, and that made those hard days much more bearable. Toward the end those days of recognizing his face and not so broad shoulders were fewer and fewer, but that did not matter to him as he remembered the vows of in sickness and in health.  He took care of her until the day she breathed her last breath.  It was the hardest day of his life, and he still had not gotten over it.   His mom and dad were gone. His brother was gone, and now, the love of his life. The feeling of being alone weighed on him every day and sometimes that weight made it so hard to get up in the morning. 

Looking up over the back porch he spots the window to the room that he and his brother shared. The glass may be gone from the window but that did not stop him from seeing two young boys with their noses pressed to the window looking out at the world.  He thought of the many times they just lay in the bed looking out the window and talked of what they were going to do when they got older.  He thought of the many snow storms they witnessed through that window and how they just wished their school would be cancelled.  How many thunder storms did they spy on from under the covers because they always felt the lightening would get them one day? He remembers the day when their fear just about came true. The lightning struck the tree in the back yard and split it in two.  They were not at the window at the time and grateful for that, but it brought the whole family out the back door.  He remembered his dad looking over the situation, and like all good fathers, he calmed everyone down by declaring that all was okay. The next day his dad looked at the tree and started working on it. After he was done we had more wood to split and more fuel for the winter.  When they could, he and his brother left the window open to allow a cool breeze to come through on those long summer evenings.  The open window also allowed many sounds to enter.  He could not believe that he could ever sleep without the sounds of crickets, frogs, birds and the like. Looking at the window to the room, he missed his brother more than ever before because when two people share a room for thirteen years they grow so very close.  They joked and fought more than they seriously talked, but when they talked seriously they opened their hearts up to someone they knew they could trust.  He never let others know the dreams and secrets his brother detailed to him and he knew his brother did the same.  They may have fought many times but they never ever stopped being brothers who cared for each other and looked out for each other. Their mom would always remind each of them that no matter what you do in this life or where you go in this world you will always have a brother on who you could rely.  He thought if only mom could tell him what to do now that his brother was gone. 

Just in from the back porch was the kitchen. His mom took such pride in that kitchen and what it produced. Just off the kitchen and down some steep stairs was the cellar and the treasure trove of his mom’s canned items from the garden.  He could almost swear he could smell the aroma of items his mom baked out of that kitchen.  She was such a good cook, and this benefitted not only the family but the neighbors as well.  He admitted to himself that the family did not have a lot of money, but one thing mom could do was cook and bake.  If it was a church social, a funeral, or a barn raising, mom would prepare items that would stay in people’s memory for quite some time.  She loved sharing her recipes with those who would ask, and she really loved to teach any young girl to cook.  He thought that having two boys did not give his mom a chance to pass down her kitchen knowledge, but he knew those she taught passed on the love to others.  He was sure all the items in the kitchen were replaced by more modern appliances when the house was bought from his parents.  He was also sure that modern appliances could not ever produce what his mom did with what she had.  She never complained to dad about needing anything more modern in the kitchen as she knew that most of the money dad made at the mine was going to other things more vital that having a new gadget.  She accepted that fact and never expected anything new so that is why she was so surprised when dad replaced the icebox one day with a General Electric refrigerator.  Dad did that one day while he got mom to go to a neighbor’s house on the pretense that they needed help with a quilt layout.  I think mom knew something was up but she kept it to herself. She never expected that dad would get a friend to put an electrical wire into the kitchen and have a refrigerator plugged in and working when she got home. Dad saved the money over time and wanted to surprise her but could never save the money close enough to his mom’s birthday or Christmas to make it more special. 

A cold breeze reminded him that he needed to get back to the car soon.  He continued left around the side of the house.  This side contained the windows to the living room.  The windows were not broken as most of the others so he eased up to them to have a look.  The room was bare except for some trash and boxes left on the floor by the previous owners. He could see the fireplace and mantle. Other than being painted over, it looked just like it was when he and his brother huddled around it as kids.  Craning his neck he could just see the stairs to the bedrooms upstairs. This room was where the family gathered to listen to the radio and hear the news about faraway places.  He remembered this room being more comfortable in the winter when all were gathered around the crackling fire.  His mom would be sitting in her chair darning socks, patching a pair of pants, or working on a quilt.  Dad would be in his chair reading a book or listening to a radio show.  He remembered the many Christmases spent in this house and how they decorated the living room.  Not with fancy lights like today but with things that they had to create. He remembered that his dad would bring home a fresh cut tree a week before Christmas.  He could not cut one down sooner because they would dry out and be a fire risk.  He remembered the neighbor who had a fire right before Christmas due to their tree being too dry.   He and his brother would put their homemade popcorn string on it and some colored paper loops as well.  His mom would create a few nifty pine cone ornaments to hang on the tree as well, and his dad would put the angel doll on top of the tree.  The tree we pretty simple he thought, but sometimes he longed for those simple Christmases of the past where huddled around the fire time seemed to slow down. As he stepped back from the window he imagined he could hear the radio playing Christmas songs and his mom and dad singing along with the radio. 

Making his way back to the front porch again he began his walk back to the car.  Stopping he turned to take one last look again at the old house. Above the porch was the window to his parent’s room.  He remembered the many times he ran into that room and jumped into their bed when he was scared. He knew that no matter what was bothering him everything would be alright in his mom and dad’s bed.  Mom would hold him close and take all his problems away.  He wished that he could go back into that room now and have his mom take away the feelings of loneliness that weighed so heavily upon him.  He said, under his breath, “Goodbye mom and dad.  I love you both and miss you so much.” He breathed a heavy sigh and turned back toward the car grateful again that he brought his cane with him.  After several steps he reached the ash tree where the swing once squeaked as it rubbed the tree raw. He said in a somewhat louder voice, “Goodbye Tom, thanks for being the best brother a guy could ever have. I love you, too.”  Walking on he reached the sign posted on the tree, and read it aloud, “Keep Out. Unsafe. Property of Stillman Mining. Property to be demolished 02/12/2011”.  He knew they were going to clear the whole site and that is why he came today.  He knew that shortly after February 12^th his past would be gone and no one would ever remember how his family struggled to exist for so many years.  A struggle that was faced head on by two parents that loved each other and their sons so much, and sons who loved their parents just as much. Looking back now through the years he wished for the struggle again as he always knew what his dad said would come true. His dad always said that no matter what they faced they could make it through if they held onto each other and trusted God.  Yes dad, he thought, you were right.  Turning he approached the car. Opening the door he threw in the cane and then settled in behind the wheel.  Starting the car he was grateful for the heat that would soon warm his bones. Glancing out the driver side window he breathed a “Goodbye” and headed down the snow covered dirt road back to the airport and then back to an empty house.

As the car moved out of site down the dirt road the wind suddenly stirred up the new snow on the path to the old house and a sound like rope rubbing on a tree limb could be heard.

The Stone by the Edge of the Road

Many cars drove past the stone by the edge of the road.  And many that passed never noticed the stone that stood out in an empty field.  But those that did notice would ponder about why the stone was there.  It seemed out of place in a field next to a road.  But the road by which the stone stood had not always been paved.  For when the stone was placed, the road was dirt.  Dirt packed hard by the feet, the horses, and the wagons of those who came from far and near to attend the church that was near the stone.  Those faithful knew it was more than a stone by the edge of the road.  For it marked the resting place of someone loved dearly.  Someone who was born when neighbors were few and times were hard.  Someone who fought to shape the land that fed him and his family.  Someone, who worked hard to provide for his wife and his sons.  Someone who cared for the church he attended.  Someone who called his neighbors his friends.  Someone who died much too early.  Yes, it was more than a stone by the edge of the road.  But it has been a long time since anyone remembered why the stone was there.  It has been a long time since any flowers have been laid on the stone by the edge of the road.  For the sons, he worked so hard for, died in a war far from the road by which he was laid.  His son’s bodies never were recovered.  So they could not be laid next to the stone by the edge of the road.  The wife, loved so dearly, died of a broken heart.  Her death was not as swift as her husband or sons.  But it was just as painful.  She remembered the stone by the edge of the road, but after the war took her sons, she could never bring herself to visit again.  Thus when she passed away into God’s arms, there was no one left to remember the stone.  The church burned down years later so there was no record to tell of the stone.  Over the years the Church foundation became buried over and the only indication that there was ever something there was the flowers that seemed to appear out of nowhere every spring.  Soon all the other stones toppled over and became buried except for one.   The one forgotten stone by the edge of the road.

The workers gathered around the stone.  They knew their task, it had been planned for sometime, but it still was not easy.  They gathered before the stone by the edge of the road and pondered about the past that was laid before them.  The past that will be removed because of the progress they were assigned to enforce.  For you see progress has never been good to history and history does not have much of a defense against progress.  Still they pondered about the lives of all scattered in the field, but mostly about the stone by the edge of the road.  They knew that they will see more stones that have been buried over time, but this one is forcing them to notice.  Like a drowning person, who is raising their arm for the last time before going under the waves.  The stone is crying out “remember me”, but there is no one left to remember.  Their church is gone.  The families are gone.  There is no one left to tell about the stone by the edge of the road.  For even the stone cannot cry out as the weather has taken off what love carved into the stone.  The only word that can be read is “Beloved”.  So they paused before the task at hand to ponder.   They asked themselves “Is this all there is to life?”, but no one offers up an answer.  The Forman yelled that it was time and they scattered to their assigned tasks, but one man stayed a while longer and wondered “What if?”

The road was improved, the work was finished.  Progress won another battle.  The road was widened and those traveling will never know about the stone by the edge of the road.  But if you would travel a few miles up the newly paved road.  You would come to a turn off onto a county gravel road.  The gravel road will take you to the house of a worker.  A highway worker who works hard but still has time to ponder.  If you look behind his house there is a hill.  On top of the hill is a small flower garden.  In the center of the flowers there is an old weathered stone.  If you look real close you can make out the word “Beloved”.  For you see many had forgotten the stone by the edge of the road, except for one whose job it was to shape the land. 

The Road

I don’t know when I got onto the Road. 

As far back as I can recall I have been on the Road. 

There are others on the Road with me.

Some are far ahead.

Some are far behind.

I can talk to those ahead, but I can’t seem to catch up to them.

I can talk to those behind, but I can’t seem to wait for them.

Those ahead help me to see far down the Road.

They warn me of things to be wary of.

They tell me of things to see.

But even though we are on the same Road. 

The things they describe look different to me.

The rushing streams are not as powerful.

The sky does not seem as blue.

I know I am seeing what they want me to see.

But I am seeing it farther down the Road.

Those ahead of me tell me the Road is hard.

But I don’t think it is as hard as they describe it.

I have found the Road hard in some of the places they warn me.

But I have also found the Road hard in places that they never mentioned.

Did they not see the trouble or was what I saw new to the Road?

They tell me that the Road was tougher for them.

They tell me I know only downhill parts of the Road.

But I do have uphill parts I tell them.

They only laugh and tell me that I don’t know what uphill is.

I look behind and see those there.

The Road looks different to me when I look back.

I can see far behind me, but only to the bend in the Road.

I have a hard time remembering the Road past the bend.

But every once in awhile I can recall.

The Road behind seems clear then.

I can see past the bend.

I can remember the Road.

What triggered this?

Was it a sight, a sound, or a smell?

I don’t know, but for just a brief moment I see the Road far behind me.

I then tell those behind what to be aware of or what to watch out for on the Road.

They respond with a wave of acknowledgment.

Sometimes they respond with a look that says, ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about’.

I have seen that look.

It is that same look I have given those ahead of me on the Road.

THE ONE

The Road is a lonely place sometimes.

The Road is a rough place to travel.

There are times I feel helpless.

There are times when I feel I have nowhere to turn.

One day those ahead told me that I am never alone.

That there is always someone on the Road with me.

I ask them who is there always with me.

They told me about the One.

The One they said is always there.

The One is who built the Road.

The One is who made all who travel on the Road.

I said “There was no one there with me when I fell. I did not see anyone.”

They told me it is through faith that you see the One.

“What is faith?” I asked.

“Faith is believing in what you don’t see.” They replied.

“How do you know about The One?” I asked.

They told me of the Map.

The Map is what told them of the One.

The Map is what tells them how to travel the Road.

“I have traveled The Road OK without a map.” I said. “Why do I need the Map to be on the Road?”

“It is because of the Bend in the Road,” they said.

I knew the Bend.

The Bend is something that is always there ahead of us.

The Road is not straight all the time it bends far ahead.

I cannot see past the Bend.

Those ahead have traveled around the Bend.

I lose site of them until the Road straightens out.

Then I see them again.

I call to them and ask them what is ahead of me on the Road.

But there are times when those ahead travel around the Bend and when the Road straightens out some of them are gone.

Where do they go?

I do not know, just that sometimes those ahead travel around the Bend and are gone.

It is a time of sorrow as they are missed.

But the Bend is not only for those ahead, but also for those behind.

Sometimes I have found myself entering the Bend and looking back for those behind.

And sometimes they are missing also.

It is also a time of sorrow, but for those behind the sorrow seems greater.

I asked, “what does the Map say about the Bend?”

They tell me that the Bend happens to everyone.

But the Map tells of what happens after the Bend.

The One has prepared a place that is not on the Road.

The Map tells how to get to this place the One has ready for us.

“Is this place better than The Road?” I asked

“Much better.” They respond.

There will be no more hardship in this place.

There will be no more tears there.

“How do I get to this better place?” I asked.

The Map tells the story of how the One sent His Son to be on the Road with us.

The Map tells about how the Son endured the Road and all its hardships.

The Map tells how the Son came to help us all.

The Map tells how that the Son conquered the Bend.

For when the Bend took the Son away, he did not stay away, but appeared later on the Road.

Telling those who would listen to believe in Him and you would not have to fear the Bend anymore.

The Map tells about how the Son conquered the Bend.

“Someone who came back after the Bend, please tell me more.” I replied.

They told me that the Son came down to the Road to provide a way for all to escape the Bend.

The Son taught many things to those on the Road.  He taught about love and how we are to live while on the Road. He also helped many people while on The Road.  Many said that he performed miracles and even brought back someone who the Bend had taken.  But even with all the good things he was doing the Son said he must go back to the One who sent him, his father.  One day those on the Road, who did not like to hear his teachings, took him away around the Bend.  It was a time of sorrow, as many he had taught missed him greatly. 

But one day he appeared to those on the Road again.  He had conquered the Bend.  He told us that we should not fear the Bend either.  We just have to believe and have faith.  If we accept the Son as our guide, then we will conquer the Bend also. 

I asked ‘Where is the Son now?’

They told me that he had to go back to his Father, but one day he would come back for everyone on the Road.

This made me sad, as the Road is a lonely place when others are gone.  But they told me not to be lonely for if I believed in the Son and accept him as my Guide then the Son would be with me all the time.  

“What do you mean the Son would be with me?” I asked.  “I thought he left.”

They told me that the Son would live inside of me.  Guiding and helping me while I am on the Road.  That part that would be in me was called The Spirit.  The Spirit of the One who sent the Son.  The Spirit would give me power through the One.  The Spirit will let me do things that I never have done before. 

“What things?” I asked.

Well they told me of a special gift that the One wanted me to have.  But they also told me that it was up to me to find that gift.  And once found, I was to use that gift to serve the One.  Doing what the Son has taught and what the Map tells me to do.

Well it has been a long time since I have accepted the Son.  The Road has not gotten easier; the Map did not say it would.  But I am not alone anymore.  I talk to the One and the Spirit helps me through what I face on the Road.  I don’t fear the Bend anymore.  In fact I look forward to the Bend because I know I will be with the One and I will be able to see the Son.  Then I will be able to tell him face to face how much I love him for showing me how to live on the Road and for conquering the Bend.

But enough of that, the time will come when I will be no more.  For now I must press on down the Road.  Doing what the Map tells me and telling others about the Son.