Thursday, March 5, 2009


Our father had been a widower with a large family of his own and just happened to fall in love with a young girl with an independent streak and swept her off her feet. Against the wishes, and in spite of the admonishments of her own family, the two eloped and were married. There was a vast difference in age but certainly not in spirit. O, the tales Mother would tell us about a young farm girl's escape into romance with a handsome, strong preacher man who swept her up into a whirlwind of courtship, marriage, travel and babies. Our father was not a sentimental being and never looked backward, always moving forward. He taught his young bride to do the same; don't hold onto the past, leave it behind and go forth into a new day; a day promising opportunity, excitement and always – romance! Don't record events and hang them on the wall or record them in a journal and hold onto them. Take the new day as it comes and anticipate an even brighter dawn tomorrow. Not surprisingly, we grew up knowing little or nothing about our father's family. They did nothing to reach out to us nor did my mother call on them for assistance. We had little; they had much. They chose not to burden themselves with a young widow and four little children.

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