My Wish

To my son, Matthew....


I hope the days come easy and the moments pass slow, And each road leads you where you wanna go,

And if you're faced with a choice, and you have to choose, I hope you choose the one that means the most to you. And if one door opens to another door closed, I hope you keep on walkin' till you find the window, If it's cold outside, show the world the warmth of your smile.

But more than anything, more than anything

My wish, for you, is that this life becomes all that you want it to,Your dreams stay big, your worries stay small,You never need to carry more than you can hold, And while you're out there getting where you're getting to,I hope you know somebody loves you, and wants the same things too,

Yeah, this, is my wish.

I hope you never look back, but you never forget,
All the ones who love you, in the place you live,
I hope you always forgive, and you never regret,
And you help somebody every chance you get,
Oh, you find God's grace, in every mistake,
And always give more than you take.

But more than anything, yeah, more than anything

My wish, for you, is that this life becomes all that you want it to,
Your dreams stay big, your worries stay small,
You never need to carry more than you can hold,
And while you're out there getting where you're getting to,
I hope you know somebody loves you, and wants the same things too,

Yeah, this, is my wish. Yeah, yeah.

My wish, for you, is that this life becomes all that you want it to,
Your dreams stay big, your worries stay small,
You never need to carry more than you can hold,
And while you're out there getting where you're getting to,
I hope you know somebody loves you, and wants the same things too,

Yeah, this, is my wish (my wish, for you).

This is my wish (my wish, for you)
I hope you know somebody loves you (my wish, for you).
May all your dreams stay big (my wish, for you)

Performed by Rascal Flatts
Written by Steve Robson, Jeffrey Steele • Copyright © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal



And somebody out there will always love you...

Grandma's Uncle

"Rudy was Grandma's Uncle, right?"

My son was inquiring about my mom's uncle who was also a firefighter all those years ago. I barely remember Uncle Rudy. He was my grandpa's younger brother and he lived in the same town as my grandparents - the one where my mom grew up and the one I still like to call "home".

Uncle Rudy's name has been mentioned a good deal in my household the last few years. My son became very curious when he found out that Rudy, too, was a firefighter. The town, at the time, had only a volunteer department, and it remains that way to this day. Sometimes it is beyond my comprehension that people do this job without getting paid. Regardless, my son and I were both very impressed when we saw the recently placed monument with a tribute to the firefighters from the history of the town. Uncle Rudy was number 6 on the list, even making the first line of the tribute. It made us proud. Here was history. Here was heritage. And it was a heritage my son wanted to follow. Here was a brotherhood with like understanding.

I think I was probably about 9 when Uncle Rudy passed. I barely remember him. I am not sure how he died. I believe he was relatively young when we lost him. My grandpa lived into his 80's and died in the 1980's; comparatively, it would have been the 1960's when we lost Uncle Rudy. I didn't grow up hearing a lot of stories about Rudy, but those I did hear, I remember well. My mom loved to tell how he was always the first one at the station whenever there was a call, so he always got to drive the engine. "And," she would emphasize, "he didn't have a car, so he would have to run all the way from his apartment to the station, still beating everyone else." She was proud of her uncle. And we are too.

I knew Uncle had never married, but I only recently learned why.  The story came up while visiting the county museum one day. A picture of a lovely woman caught my mom's eye. "She was Uncle Rudy's fiancé," Mom told me. "But she called it off and broke Uncle Rudy's heart. He never found anyone else after that."

Please forgive my next statement. It is going to sound very corny and maybe even like I am mocking. I am not. I mean it from the most sincere part of my heart. Norwegians (which my grandpa and uncle were) are like geese. If you know anything about geese they only mate for life. If they are to lose their mate, they never mate again. That is who these two men are to me. Loyal, faithful, strong and independent; committed to their family. No pomp and circumstance, "no drama" as we would say today. Just "get the job done" men of dedication. Geese, while flying in formation, will take turns in the lead. When one tires, another will move to the front. That is looking out for each other. And that is also true humility.

Coincidently enough, that is exactly what it takes to be a firemen. That description, gives a bit more understanding why someone would have any desire to "volunteer" for such a position.

 

Lifetime of Service

So we have heritage. My son has the Norwegian blood and he has a fireman's heart. He has the heritage that allows him to do the job he has chosen. This is why in my house, we talk a lot about Uncle Rudy. I like that. How do we remember unless we speak? How do we know unless someone is mentioned? How do we carry on legacy unless we learn from someone's example? How do we keep a memory - a life - alive unless we tell stories and work to remember those who have gone on before us? Why ever, would we not?

 

Uncle Rudy never married. He had no children. There is no one to speak about the attributes of what was most certainly a fine man. There are very few who have remembered. I am glad my son has. I am so thankful he wants to know. He is proud of this heritage and so am I.

"Yes, son, Uncle Rudy was grandma's uncle."

Then They Do

This song has been on my mind a lot the last few days. Listen through one time, and you will understand why. Now for me, I was never in a hurry to get my son's childhood over. In fact, quite the opposite was true. I wanted to savor and cherish every minute. But other than that, this song is perfect for the way I have been feeling lately.

I love it! I love words, the melody, the instruments; and the singer! I love the sentiment! And I simply thought I would share it today.

Enjoy! Then They Do! That's how it is...






You want all the dreams they dreamed of to come true...

 

then they do...

The Barber Pole

I sat in the front seat of my car with the engine running. I was deep in my thoughts. Mama sat in the back. I stared straight ahead, watching the red, white and blue spiral up and down.                     

"I wonder why they ever thought of making a barber pole like that?" she commented.  

My first inclination was to respond, "It was most likely the Brits." But I really didn't know and I don't know why that idea came to my mind either. I only responded, "I don't know," and I went back to my reflections. It has always been hard for me to communicate when I am not feeling well, or I am tired. And I have been tired for awhile, now. I didn't want to talk.

Poor Mama. She had wanted to come along, but I didn't really want her to. I didn't have much time, and my leg was sore enough, I thought perhaps I had made a mistake in coming. I knew I didn't have the strength to walk with her, and help her in and out of the car.  But I couldn't tell her that. So she came and I helped in spite of the pain. Been doing that awhile now, too.

We were waiting for dad outside the barber while he got his hair cut. He hadn't had luck getting it done at their new retirement community.  And when I had come that afternoon to take care of a few things for them, it was the first thing he had told me. "They won't cut my hair!"

I didn't know why. I assumed maybe it was the wrong day, or hour. Maybe he had trouble finding the salon. I didn't know and I didn't ask. I just responded: "I will take you up to the barber where I used to take Mr. B. when we were neighbors."

That delighted Dad. Mama wanted to come along for the ride. So we were off on another errand that I was secretly hoping wouldn't turn into an ordeal that would take longer than necessary. I had hoped to find out if I could do this after my recent surgery, but I soon found out I wasn't ready.

As I sat there with my mom, I really wasn't able to talk. I was reflecting. I was remembering all the times I would bring my elderly neighbor up to this same shop, when he could no longer drive. My memories are all fond of this wonderful old man and his wife, but my reflections today were not. There had been more than one time, that I had revisited this same memory. Mr. B. standing on his front porch, as I had tried to explain.

 

"Mr. B. I just can't drop everything and run you when you want to go. I am trying to home school Matthew and it interrupts our day."

"But I HAVE to get my hair cut," was his forlorn response. And I knew then and there, my efforts to explain were all in vain. I was saddened, I was frustrated. I was defeated. So, I simply took him to the barber.  I never, ever forgot his need in that moment. I can still see him standing there, trying to reason with me.

To this day, I hope he didn't sense my frustration, or anger, or whatever it was that might have been bubbling underneath. I have reviewed it many times over the 15 years or whatever it has been. Over and over, I have given myself an "F" and vowed to never let anything like that happen again.

So here I was now - right outside the same barber shop with the same lousy attitude. All those memories couldn't help but flood my tired mind and body. It was only day 7, after all, of a major surgery I had just had. Part of me was telling myself, "I shouldn't have to do this yet!"

"You have just been ran over by a truck!" The doctor had told me. "Quit expecting so much! This is only day 2!"

Yeah, I get that! I feel that! That part is easy to understand. What isn't easy is to say no, when an elderly has a need. It is different than when you or I have a need. I am not going to explain that. It is simply different. "I will never, ever forget his need in that moment!"

And so here we are. Same barber, same need, same grade. "F" for not being more gracious with my mama. She only wanted to go for a ride.

I saw Dad come out of the shop with a smile on his face. "How did it go?" I asked trying to include some cheer in my tone.

"Good!"

"Did you like him?"

"Yes, he did a good job and I am glad to know this is here."

"Yes, little by little you are learning where things are. And what is nice is the barber, the bank, and the store are all on the same street that you live on! That will make it easy."

"Oh, boy! Thank you so much, Jan."

 

Daddy was happy and his hair looked good. Mama was still sighing in the backseat, probably sorry she came. Ok. I will give myself a "C" for Daddy. I still need to get that attitude in check.

Thank you, Mr. B. for showing me the importance of a barber and where to find one. I really wish I could do it all again for you, you know. Still looking for that "A". Not so much because I need it, but because you do; and all of those like you.