Letters to Great Grandmother Watson

 Dear Mom,                                                                                    May 6th,2021

Happy Mother’s Day.  This is your weekly memory letter from your Tennessee daughter Kathy.  My favorite recent memory of you was being able to come to see you last month.  It made our day to see you, hold your hand, kiss your cheek and hug you. It also made my face light up the second day when they brought you into the living room and you said to the assistant, “Oh look, it’s my Girls!”  My heart danced and I’m sure I had the silliest smile ever.  I know you don’t remember that day, but    Momma I will never forget it.  I think it’s what we call a “God Wink”.

Mother’s Day was always special at our house.  Dad would always get us girls' corsages.  On Mother’s Day, the carnations would be red because you and your mother were living. Dad would have a white carnation boutonnière because Nanny had passed away.  We all went to church and because it was Mother’s Day, (Not Kid Day), Dad made it a point that we all sit together with you.  We always went out to eat so you wouldn’t have to cook that day.  Bobbie and I would make you a gift like the beautiful cork earrings we made from a kit.  We took a straight pin and put colored beads on them and Bobbie would press them into the cork. She glued the decorated cork to earring backings. They probably weighed a ton and were tacky but you told us that they were beautiful and wore them anyway.  Dad would buy a special dessert from the grocery store and always had a gift for you.  He made Bobbie wrap it.  We always had Mother’s Day cards for you too.  You had a variety of homemade cards and gifts from your adoring girls. I miss not being able to s
it beside you in Church.  I know that   Bobbie and Joe will be so happy to be able to take you again.

Charlie and I always enjoyed going to your Ladies Sunday School class at Thalia Lynn Baptist Church in Virginia Beach.  Charlie always said he was just one of the girls.  The other ladies were so gracious and made us feel very welcome.  You were a greeter at Church for 25 years Mom.  You would go early, and welcome visitors to the church and take them to whatever Sunday School classes they were looking for or to the Nursery.  You always had a warm inviting smile and would welcome everyone as they came through your door.  I also remember the deacons would come out and hold umbrellas over the head of the ladies and kids if they were dropped off at the door during the rain.  We would leave after Church when we came to visit because Sunday was always a special time of the week.

When we came to visit you. You always insisted on giving us gas money which was always way too much and made us promise to call you when we arrived safely.  It was such a special way to say I love you.

I love you, Momma.  You have blessed my life in more ways than I can ever express.  Your memory might fail you but your stories are safely tucked in my heart and being passed on to your grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

 

Love You….Kathy

Oreo's Odyssey Day 4

 Oreo's Odyssey..day 4

There's no place like home.

Dear Grand pups 

Today we are heading home. I like this thing called "Road Trip".  I have the whole back seat to nap.  I can curl up in my bed, or rest on the seat. I have on my safety vest and seat belt that keep me from getting into the front seat with Diva and Poppa. I miss sitting in their laps!  Diva pets me when I get restless and sometimes gives me a treat.  I tend to sleep a lot on long drives. The rhythm of the road rocks me to sleep.

We stop frequently for something called gas for the car.  However, Diva doesn't like it when I pass gas.  She makes Poppa stop and walks me around.  So far I've peed or pooped in every state we been through. Poppa says I have marked my way to get back to Uncle Joe's house. 

 

We stopped at a gas station called Love's.  They had a pet park just for dogs.  It is fenced in so an old boy can run, stiff, explore, or relieve himself.  Diva and Poppa ate their lunch and gave me my lunch.  I couldn't eat though as I was too excited by all the noises, and smells.  I did get a long drink of water though which was really good as I was a thirsty dog.

I can tell that Poppa is tired and grumpy about something called a detour.  I think he is ready to be home.  I will be glad to be there too, so I can cuddle up in Diva's lap for a snooze.

I loved being at Uncle Joe's house but there really is "no place like home" cause I am the center of my little universe there.  I love my pack, my Alpha, and especially my mom.  I do make exceptions for grand pups, come visit any time, I will share Diva's lap with you.

Your old pal Oreo.

visit with great grandmother

We had a wonderful visit with Mom today.  Yesterday she was a little overwhelmed by all four of us. Today she was all smiles and glad to see us. She had momments where her face would light up as she remebered certain events or people . She cried when we left but then so did I.  We prayed with her let her know how much she is loved  and prayed for every day.  Thirty minute visit are just not enough when it comes to your love ones.  We know that she is being well cared for and our trip to see her has been a bright spot in our year.  We are so thankful for my sister Bobbie and Brother in law Joe who  watch over her and visit frequently.  We are blessed and extremely  thankful for the opportunity to see her twice during our visit.

Bobbie mentioned Charlie Bear talking to her on the phone about the fish he caught in Uncle Joe's lake.  It was the first time he had ever caught a fish and was so excited about it when he talked to her.  She remembered that conversation and really smiled at the thought.

She also remembered Emma as the sweet little girl who likes me and wears princess dresses.  She remembers she came to visit her in Virginia Beach.  She said, that little girls really liked me.  I don't know why but I"m so glad she does!

Oreo's Odyssey Day 3

 0re0' s Odyssey; day 3

Dear Grand pups, 

Hi, this is your old pal 0re0 the wonder dog.  Wow, this morning after breakfast Uncle Joe gave each of us dogs a Biscotti.   I have never had one before but I could get used to it very quickly.  I wonder if Diva and Poppa will start this tradition with me?  It sounds like a delightful way to start the day.  I wiggled my tail for all it was worth to make sure Uncle Joe noticed me too.  He laughed and told me I was a good boy before he gave me my treat.  I sure hope we can stay here for a long time.

Everybody left to go visit the great grandmother in the nursing home. They didn't invite me or my cousins to come.  I was sad cause  I like old people since I'm an old boy myself.  I  could look cute and cuddle up in great grandmother's lap to keep her nice and toasty warm if they had only asked. Instead, I took a long-overdue nap in my kennel.

It rained really hard today and I found out cousin Annie doesn't like lightning or loud noises like fireworks or gunshots.  Auntie Bobbie assured me that when the weather got better Annie would be her own sweet self again and she was.

Diva and Poppa let me run out of the ungated front yard to go potty. What freedom!  They never let me run loose in the city.  You know I came back for a treat. I sure am going to miss all this v.i.p. treatment when we go home.

Guess who got stung in the neck by a hornet?  Poor darling Diva, that's who. Poppa and Aunt Bobbie were so sorry but Diva was very brave and didn't cry.  I cuddled up with her and so did my cousin Tabby.  We looked cute and adorable to make her feel better.

After dinner Uncle Joe called us dogs over for cookies.  I hope we never leave!

Here are some pictures of our adventures.  See you tomorrow. Your old pal 0re0.

Oreo's Odyssey, Day 2

 Ore0's Odyssey

Dear Grand pups Welcome to the second day of my great adventure. 

 Yesterday I met my big girl cousin Annie and my little girl cousin Tabby.  Annie has a big bark and scared me. Tabby is deaf so doesn't hear Annie barking. They came over to me and sniffed me all over and sat down next to me. 

 Annie was much calmer when Great Auntie Bobbie invited us into the house. I guess Annie decided if we were invited in we must be friends.  She sniffed me also before wandering off.  

Uncle Joe has a big house and a fenced-in yard.  It has wonderful smells of flowers, trees, deer. turkeys, possums, cats and fish, and turtles from the lake.  This must be heaven.  I may never go home.  Uncle Joe also slips all us dogs cookies, lemon ones, and gingersnaps.  I like that a lot.  Today Diva and Poppa went to see great grandmother at the nursing home. It must have been a good visit cause Diva hasn't stopped smiling since she got home.

Oreo's Odyssey ….Day 1

 Dear  Grand Pups,

Oreo Odyssey Day 1 

Diva, Poppa, and I are on a great adventure.  This is my first big trip since I came to live with them.  My name is Oreo the wonder pup. I have the whole back seat to myself. 

 

This is the first time I have ridden in their little black  VW Beetle.   Diva says it's just big enough for two old people and one Oreo. Your road trips look a lot more exciting than ours.  I miss sitting in their laps  and sometimes  the sun gets in my face

.

We just had my first rest area on the interstate.  Wish you could have seen all the trucks.    We are in Georgia now but it smells just like South Carolina.   I will get to meet more dog cousins on this trip. Hope you enjoy my adventures, your friend 0re0.

letters to grandmother

 Dear Mom,                                                                                    April 5, 2021

Happy Easter, The Lord has Risen, The Lord has Risen indeed.  This is your daughter Kathy in Tennessee writing you your weekly memory letter.  You mom, made Easter a very special time in our life when we were growing up and even when we had our own children.

Easter at our house was a dress-up occasion. You made sure that Bobbie and I   always got new spring dresses, white gloves, hats, socks with lace, and new shoes.  I never really liked to get dressed up, except on Easter when it was springtime and my dresses had ruffles and lace and made me feel like princes.  I loved to twirl around and make my skirt take flight.

No one in our household was fond of hard-boiled eggs especially me. Back then, there were no such things as hollow plastic eggs, so you would tap a small hole at each end of the raw egg and blow them out. The eggs were hollow then and we would dye them and decorate them and eventually hide them over and over again till they got smashed or stepped on by the neighbor kids.

The Easter bunny usually hid candy marshmallow eggs for us to find in the house and there was always a chocolate Easter bunny in our baskets.  I always ate the ears first but not until after Church.

You were the source for the Easter Dresses for our girls.  You would send sister dresses with ruffle pinafores.  I used to laugh because you once told me that you hated pinafores when you were growing up.  I asked you,”  Why if you hated      pinafores,  you kept sending them to my daughters.”  You  laughed and said, “because they are cute and I don’t have to iron them.”

You loved to garden and would have flowers on the table and decorate the living room with Easter items.  You always took us to church every Sunday and especially on Easter Sunday when we really thought we were “the Easter Parade” and looked fabulous .”

You made every event in the calendar a reason to celebrate and taught me the joy of being a family.  You made family celebrations special even when we did not have family members nearby.

Thank you Momma for your Godly influence and example.  We love you and pray for you every single day.  We can’t wait to visit you, hold your hand and tell you the stories of your life in person.  If all goes well we will be making our way to Alabama to see you soon.

 

     Love,   Kathy

Your Mom and Spot

This fuzzy, furry friend is my dog Spot!

Mary Englebright says, "Everyone needs their own Spot.....and I quite agree.

Spot is 13 years old.....a teenager in some cultures, an old lady in dog years.

This is Spot's favorite place...the back of the couch where she keeps an eye on the neighborhood and especially the driveway.

Spot found us over ten years ago.

One morning after a bad thunderstorm we woke to find two dogs taking refuge on our porch. The streets were flooded the dogs were wet and hungry. " Don't feed those dogs.",.said my all-knowing husband. He could have been talking to the wind.....anything on my porch (two legs or four will get fed). The water finally subsided the dogs disappeared and we thought to ourselves, "Good, they've found their way home."

The next morning one wet and shivering Spot sits on our porch looking like a drowned rat. "Don't bring that dog inside," said Mr. voice of reason. "He's freezing Mom," says Suzy (in July? I don't think so) But sooner than you can say "We have a new dog, isn't she cute?" The dog is bathed, brushed, blown dry, and given a name.

We did try to find the owner.....really we did! After about a year though she was very firmly entrenched into the family when one day one of Becky's friends looks at our dog and say, "I know that dog, she belongs to my neighbor."

"No she doesn't", we protest".....I'm sure it was another dog that looked similar."

We had decided at this point they would have to describe every freckle, spot, or blemish the dog had to get her back. Crisis passes.....if it was their dog they are content to know she has a good home now. (Whew, I would have hated having to move just to protect my dog!)

Spot is now aptly named as she "leaves Spots" on the carpet or bathroom floor.

She loves us with all her little dog heart. She is always at my feet unless the kids are home and are up late. We have had her longer than any other pet. She is the guardian of secrets, the "big dog" amidst the cats, and our instant doorbell.

She loves licking out yogurt containers and getting into the trash.

She loves to be anywhere you are (except the vet). Charlie calls her an old lady. My mom sneaks bacon to her and the cats give her a wide berth when she comes in the door.

She is the closes thing I know to unconditional love on four feet.

Yep, Everyone needs their "own Spot". 

A funny story about your Mom

 When Poppa and I  lived in North Dakota, "Happy Joe's" Pizza Palor was a favorite of our children. They made a good pizza and it was definitely a kid-friendly environment. They also gave each of the children their very own helium-filled balloon on a string. The balloons would be secured on the back of their chairs until it was time to go home and then I would tie them on each child's wrist as we headed to the car and home.

Becky was 6 and very independent. She declared that she was old enough to hold the string by herself and didn't need it tied on "like a baby". Suzy, who wanted to do everything her big sister did, also decided that she didn't want her balloon tied on. Not wanting to make a scene, I told her ok but warned her if she let go of the string the balloon would float away.

Sure enough, we had barely made it out of the door before Suzy's balloon slipped out of her hand, passed Mr. Wonderful, and into the North Dakota sky. Immediately salty tears poured out from Suzy's eyes and she began to cry. Mr. Wonderful picked up Suzy and held her closer to the sky and said, "Don't cry Suzy, your balloon is going on a trip......I bet it's on the way to Texas for our family reunion. It's small so it needs to get a head start. Wave it goodbye and tell it to have a good trip!"

This seemed like a perfectly logical thing for a balloon to do and so Suzy started waving and shouting to the balloon. "See you soon! Bye Balloon!"

A day or so later Suzy asked her Daddy, "Where's my Balloon now?"

So Mr. Wonderful would get out a map and show her where we were, where the family reunion was to be held and all the states in between. Then he would say, "The weatherman said, it was windy today so I'm sure Balloon didn't get very far. I think it's probably in South Dakota by now." That seemed to satisfy her curiosity so off she'd go.

Every night before she would jump in bed she would have to say her prayers. She "God Blessed" everyone she knew and she always ended with, " and God help my balloon help make it to Texas."

A few days later the grandparents arrived and the house was busy with activities in preparation for our long car trip to Texas to the family reunion. In all the activities the balloon was soon forgotten and we didn't bring up the subject again.

Imagine our surprise and Suzy's delight one morning when we were eating breakfast at a restaurant and looked out of the window to see a huge hot air balloon that looked very similar to Suzy's "Happy Joe's" balloon. "Oh look, Daddy," Suzy said excitedly, "Look how big my balloon got! It's here, just like you said it would be." "How did it get so big?" she asked.

"Well," said Mr. Wonderful, as if he were expecting this question all along. "The balloon had to get bigger to make the long journey. Every time you prayed God made the balloon bigger."

Again, this sounded perfectly logical to Suzy and she was satisfied with the explanation. Becky, ever the skeptic, looked at her Dad and said matter of factly, "Aren't you glad she stopped praying when she did?"

The Faith of a child is so pure!

Great grandmother Watson

 Letters to Mom, March 28, 2021

Dear Mom,  This is your memory letter from your daughter Kathy, in Tennessee.  Barbara told me that she was able to come inside and see you, hug you, and hold your hand.  I am very jealous and miss you so much.  She has graciously offered us her guest room to come see you.  We are thinking of making the trip sometime after Easter.

 Here is my Memory.  "I am a people pleaser.  I'm sure it started in childhood with the desire to please you and Dad. I also wanted to please Bobbie so she would play with me.  Probably the best way to explain this principle is the story of "Why I touched a Bumblebee!" I touched a bumblebee one day because we were outside playing with some neighbor kids and Bobbie told everyone that she was brave.

   Not wanting to be left out of the conversation, I announced to her and to our friends that I was brave too.  Bobbie immediately told me again that I was not brave.  I countered with, "Yes, I am!"  She continued to taunt me by saying, "I bet you wouldn't touch a bumblebee."

    I might not have been so quick to declare my bravery if I had seen the bumblebee on a nearby flower (as my older sibling had also told me that when you are stung by a bumblebee you have 10 seconds to remove the stinger  or you die!)

    So not to disappoint my sister I bravely went where no man has gone before and touched the bee.  Surprise!  It stung me!  My sister, (always my cheerleader in acts of stupidity) began to declare to the neighborhood kids that I was the bravest of the brave.  As she chronicled my deed of bravery I slowly began to count. (One, one thousand, two, one thousand, three, one thousand) .  I think I was up to eight of nine with death on the horizon before she detected my panic dance of death and pulled out the stinger.

   You would have thought that I learned a valuable lesson that day...(maybe I have, looking back over the event now.)  I am not so trusting as I once was.  I have found that I don't have the time or the desire to be anyone other than me.  I have decided that life is too short for anything other than comfortable shoes.  One size fits all is a myth. Look, before you leap is great advice.  I am not brave and a bumblebee will sting you if you touch it.  As for my big sister, I still want her approval and attention.  Lord help me if she dares me to display my stupidity in some other way.  You know I will....right after her!  

   I hope you enjoyed this story mom.  I am sure you never knew about this encounter other than putting baking soda on my bee sting.  Bobbie and I had stories that we used against each other to keep from getting into trouble.  She would say, " if you tell mom, I will tell her about the time you..."  Point, counterpoint, we maintained a fine balance of power.

   One thing that all three of your girls agree on is our love and prayer for you.  We pray for you every single day and can't wait to see your again and hug you, and hold your hand.  Love you, Mom.  Your daughter Kathy

Letters to your Great Grandmother...My life as a Brown Bunny

 Dear Mom, This is Kathy and I have a memory story for you from my life that I am sure you never knew.  I call it "My Life as a Brown Bunny"  I hope it makes you smile.

    I have always been a person who embraced life with great exuberance and gusto.  Life was a daily mystery with strange and delightful twists and turns.  My world was a safe place where strangers smiled at children, neighbors knew your name, and it was safe to play outside till the street light went on.  Life was simple and pleasant.

   I loved kindergarten because you could color, cut with scissors, play with other children and sing.  I loved to sing and what I lacked in musical ability I made up for in volume.  I was thrilled to find out that my class would be able to sing two songs in my school's Christmas program. We practiced our two songs for weeks before the performance.  I knew those songs backward and forwards!  I could sing louder and longer than all my friends.  Imagine my surprise and delight to be singled out with four of my peers for a special assignment the day before our big day.  My teacher called the five of us over and explained that life was composed of "White Bunnies and Brown Bunnies".  "White bunnies," she said, "get up on the stage and sing, but brown bunnies are special!  "Brown bunnies get to act!"  Did she say act?

      A star was born instantly that day.  I had grand dreams of being a dancing snowflake or prancing elf.  My teacher had chosen me!  My parents would be so proud!  My sister would be envious of my success.  We all eagerly awaited our new assignments with breathless anticipation.

    "Tomorrow night," she said, "While all the other white bunnies are singing I want you brown bunnies to act like you are singing but don't utter a sound.  It's our secret, so don't tell the white bunnies or your parents. Let's see if anyone notices. "

    

 The night of our school's Christmas program came and went.  My class performed Jingle Bells and one more song.  The white bunnies sang and the brown bunnies acted our little hearts out.  The five of us became opera soloists without ever uttering one note.  Pavarotti could have learned from our performance.  We opened our mouth wide, gestured frantically, and swayed with the music.  We threw ourselves into our roles and for that brief moment, we were stars.

   

 Later that night my older sister, who I adored, asked me why I was swaying and jumping around the stage looking like a wide mouth bass out of water?  I proudly told her my secret...I was special, I was a brown bunny with acting abilities. 

   

 Had she been older and wiser, perhaps she might have let me have my moment of stardom, but  reality is cruel, and she told me that brown bunnies can't sing and my teacher didn't want us to drown out the other kids.

  

So I spent most of my life knowing that I am a Brown Bunny.  Brown bunnies don't sing, Brown bunnies don't dance, Brown bunnies......(you fill in the blanks.)  I have lived my life with the brown bunny mentality.  I've finally decided that brown bunnies are special.  We have a rare ability to not take life so seriously.  We sing off-key, we dance to the music in our head, we laugh inappropriately, we love intensely, we celebrate each day and each moment. 

Little did I know that my kindergarten teacher gave me a great gift.

Letters to your great grandmother

Letters to Mom,                                                               March 13,2021

Dear Mom, This is your weekly memory letter from your daughter, Kathy, the one that looked liked Dad. 

 Barbara is your firstborn.  I called her Bobbie when I was young.  I remember Saturday nights you would put "Bobbie pins" in our hair to make it wavy for church the following morning. I used to think that was the reason I called her Bobbie.  Much later you rolled our hair with clips and I remember calling them "Kathy pins" and thinking I was just as glamorous as my sister.  When I was 14, baby sister Beverly arrived, and again I had another sister who always took center stage.

The three of us are entirely different. Bobbie is beautiful and smart.  She made straight A's in all of her classes and was a member of the National Honor Society.  She was a debutant and was presented to society at the debutante ball.  My beautiful brainy sister could be quite scatterbrained at times like the day she drove the car to High School with her girlfriends and that afternoon rode home on the bus because she forgot she drove that day.  Needless to say, her girlfriends were not amused waiting by the car for an hour before she remembered and got a ride from a teenage boy back to the high school to pick up her friends.

I was not the smart one unless it was something I really liked.  You and Dad gave me a lecture, "I don't care what grade you make as long as it is the best of your ability, but don't you dare bring home less than a C".  So I made up my mind that if you were happy with a "C" that was my goal.  I will admit to also being the lazy one and came very close to failing many subjects, but through frantic prayer, and tutoring from Bobbie I could somehow manage a C minus.  You and dad were always disappointed but I always thought and chuckled to myself, "If you only knew how close to failing I actually came you would be congratulating me right now!"  

 I was  "everybody's buddy" but definitely didn't stand out in the crowd.  I played a tenor saxophone in Junior High and was in band and orchestra and still can't really read music to this day.  I got a pity date to Prom 3 days before the event and you were upset that I didn't give you enough time to make my dress.  I was just thrilled to be invited and go out with my friends. All my high school friends were in the Honor Society, I was just thrilled to graduate.

Baby sister Beverly was a big surprise to all of us.  We got to name her as long as you and Dad agreed to the name.  Bobbie and I pitched out our favorite girl names only to have someone else in the family say, "I knew a girl with that name and I hated her."  Bobbie wanted to name her Joy but Dad vetoed the name.  He said, "Girls named Joy were usually sweet or terribly misnamed and he didn't want to take his chances on the name."  We finally settled on the name Beverly because the only Beverly we knew we all liked.  Barbara's middle name is Leigh, so she wanted Beverly's middle name to be Lynn so they would have the same initials.  So here I am stuck in the middle with Barbara Leigh and Beverly Lynn.  It's tough to be a Janet Kathleen.

Baby sister Bev is an island all her own.  She is very different from Bobbie and me and basically grew up as an only child.  She has a very strong personality and either loves you or hates you with very little sway in-between.  She is your best friend Mom, and a strong advocate for you.  She has a temper like your father (our grandfather Carden) and feels things very deeply.  She called you daily when you lived in Virginia Beach and would call me if she couldn't reach you insisting that I drive 4 hours to your house and comb the streets to find you.  She never married and would come home for several weeks in October on vacation from United Airlines

to cook, clean, do yard work, clean out the attic, linen closet, and your clothes closet.  She has a good heart but would frustrate you as she moved things to where she thought they should be and not where you usually stored them.

So, Mom, that's us, (Brains and Beauty) (Fun and Fabulous) and (Fire and Ice) your 3 very different daughters that adore you, pray for you daily, and would love to see you and hug you.  Hope you enjoyed the stories and will write more next week.  

Your Daughter Kathy

This picture is of Lyra Jane your great-granddaughter.  She just completed 100 days of kindergarten with a little old lady photo.  It made me laugh and I thought you would get a chuckle from it.

Letters to your great grandmother

 Dear Mom,  This is your adorable daughter Kathy, who lives in Tennessee writing you a memory from my childhood that you may not remember.  I hope it brings you joy and lets you know how very much you are loved and cherished.  Charlie (my husband) and I pray for you every single day and are so happy that you are well.

It was the best Christmas, it was the worst Christmas.  It is the one Christmas I will never forget.  I was a spoiled princess.  I had never gone hungry or lacked anything.  When I wanted a particular toy or object I usually got it.  I may have had to wait till my birthday or Christmas but whatever I asked for would "magically" appear.

   The Christmas I was 11 and Bobbie was 14 we were told that Christmas would be very lean as we needed to replace the family car.  You and Dad had long ago revealed Santa's real identity so you both felt like we could reasonably be included in this family decision.

    Christmas at our house was always very lavish...lots of presents, toys, games and new clothes.  So even though you both had announced not to expect any presents other than what the aunts, uncles, and grandparents sent, we really didn't believe it.

    One reason we didn't believe that there would be no Christmas was the mysterious noises, whispers, paper rustling, and frantic cries of "Don't come in here right now!"  After all, we reasoned, neither of us could drive...so a new car was not a family gift if only our parents could take it for a spin. We also thought you were just telling us this just to see the joy on our little faces come Christmas morning when, "Surprise, Santa came after all."

    "They really wouldn't really cancel Christmas," my big sister assured me.  Christmas morning arrived in our household, no one was allowed in the living room until Dad went in and turned on the Christmas tree lights.  We had sliding "Pocket Doors" leading into the living room from the hallway that was closed on Christmas Eve.

    You, Mom, turned to us in the hallway and said, "Do you want to go open your presents or go sing Merry Christmas to the Car?  What kind of question was this?  Who wants to go sing Merry Christmas to the car?  Let me at those gifts.  "Gifts! Gifts!" we cried in unison.  "Okay, you said and slid open the door, revealing our glorious Christmas tree and gifts...just the way we left it on Christmas Eve.    

    One quick look at the tree was enough to depress this 11-year-old. "Let's go sing to the car, I said, clearly disappointed.  "Oh no," you replied, "Let's go open our gifts.  So we did.  It was disappointing.  It wasn't anything that we wanted and I was totally miserable. "What's that string attached to the tree?"  Near the top branches was a note that read "To the Watson family" and the string led to the new car in the garage.

     "Let's follow the string and go sing Merry Christmas to the car!" you encouraged, knowing how disappointed we were at having no presents.  We went to the garage very begrudgingly only because Dad had on his "You heard your Mother" face, and we knew it was pointless to argue.

      So we opened the garage door and there sat the car.  Our new car, the car that had robbed us of our happy childhood.  The car that neither of us could drive.  I really wanted to kick the tires or spit on the wheels but we were encouraged sweetly by you Mom and also by the stern, threatening look on Dad's face to sing "Merry Christmas to you, Merry Christmas to you, Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas to you old stupid car!

    Oh look, you said Mom, "The string is caught in the trunk....maybe we should open it up and look inside."  "I'm going inside," I announced tiredly of the whole let's get a new car for Christmas incident and hoping I was adopted and my real parents might be inside waiting for me with my Christmas presents.)

   "Oh no you don't," Dad said, opening the trunk revealing the entire space filled with gaily colored boxes, packages, dolls, games, stockings, ribbons, and candy.  "Not until you help bring these presents inside."  Presents, gifts, wow! maybe this new car thing wasn't as bad as I originally thought.  My emotions went from sad, angry, and miserable to all smiles, excitement, and total joy.

    Presents, more than I had ever imagined at any Christmas before or since.  Presents, my parents really did love us more than their car after all.  "I told you so,
" Bobbie said to me wiping tears out of her face but not sounding nearly as confident as she wanted me to think.

   So that was our miserable Merry Christmas.  You told us later that was the first time you both had to sneak presents from the house into the trunk instead of the other way around.

    You and Dad really surprised us that Christmas.  Thank you for making our childhood memorable.  We always knew you both loved us and were good providers.  We would always ask Dad where he was going at Christmas time and he would just smile and say, "I'm going to see a man about a horse."  I always wondered what happened to our Christmas pony?

Thank you Momma for your love and prayers.  I hope you enjoyed this story about our most surprising Christmas. Your adorable daughter, Kathy 

letters to great grandmother

 Monday Memories...Letters to Mom

Dear Mom,, This is your weekly memory letter from me, your adorable middle daughter Kathy.  As the middle child, I hold a special place in our family. I was the baby sister for 14 years till sister Beverly was born.  When Barbara married and moved to Germany with Joe, I became the oldest at home.  So I have filled all three roles.  I like to think that I' the sweet frosting in the middle of the sandwich cookie!

I was the "little sister" for most of my formative years.  My sister, Bobbie, is three years older and was your favorite child (at least I always thought so).  Mom, whenever you were frustrated by our behavior you would lecture each of us by comparing us to one another.  My lectures were "Why can't you be pretty and smart like your sister Barbara?"  Barbara's lecture was, "Why can't you be sweet and loving like your sister Kathy?"  We grew up thinking "Mom always loved you best" of each other.

As the little sister, I got to bask in her glory.  I was always Barbara's little sister.  It was especially hard to have teachers that had taught my brilliant sister and then taught me.  Like most little sisters I adored her and of course, to be included in her world was a real treat even if it meant carrying the majority of the burden.

 Both of our parents had lived through the depression so they were very frugal with money.  We had one bike that we had to share.  It was a big bike and we were still pretty small.  Dad ended up putting blocks of wood on the pedals as our legs were too short to sit on the seat and pedal.  Did I say share?  There were two scenarios.  She would ride and I would run along behind the bike till she lost me, or her favorite scenario...I pumped and she rode on the back.

We would make snowmen together.  She rolled the snow till it was too heavy for her to lift and then she would have me move it to where she wanted it displayed.  My sister Bobbie had a slight build and my Dad told her that a stiff breeze would blow her away and suggested she carry a rock in her pocket to weigh her down.  Me, I was the Bulldozer, made for endurance.

It was always my turn to do the dishes.  I was always the last one to do whatever Mom said not to do.  It was always my shoes that tracked up the floor and I was "it" in every game.  She would come up with the ideas and I was always willing to go along.  If she said she was brave, so was I even if it meant touching a bee to prove it.  To say she got me in trouble with our folks would have been an understatement but I never seemed to learn.

She was the first one to hear my secrets, the one I would conspire with, the one I would wake up at 4 a.m. on Christmas morning to see if it was too early to wake the folks yet.  She was also the first one to experience all the firsts.  She was the overachiever, I felt fortunate to just be included in the game.

Now that we are both grandmothers, I can't imagine what my life would have been without her.  She is one of my best friends, my greatest supporter, and my personal cheerleader.  We talk alike on the phone, we both have the same crazy sense of humor, and when we are together people naturally assume we are sisters.I think it has something to do with our silver hair and like mannerisms.  I know she was disappointed when she found out I was a girl and wanted to know why.  Dad told her that the hospital was all out of boys so she suggested maybe we should take mom to another hospital.

I hope you enjoyed my memories of growing up" the little sister" .  I hope it brought you sweet memories of our childhood.  We love you so very much and pray for you every single day.  We will be so glad to be able to give you lots of hugs.  Miss you Momma.

That sweet middle girl,  Kathy

letters to your great grandmother Watson

Dear Mom,                                                February 19,2021

This has been a busy week for us in Tennessee.  My husband  Charlie turned 71 on Monday.  Our daughter (your granddaughter Suzy) baked him a Chocolate cake and her boys ( your great-grandsons) put 10 relighting candles on the cake.  He kept blowing them out and they kept relighting.  Thankfully they didn’t put on 71 candles or we might have had to get the fire department to put the flames out.

Barbara reminded me that your mom (our grandmother)  put relighting candles on her birthday cake when she was a teenager (over 60 years ago).  We were visiting her in Harlingen, Texas, and Bobbie’s birthday is in late August.  None of us had ever seen relighting candles so we were amazed the first 3 or 4 times they kept lighting back up. It wasn’t nearly as funny by the 10th or 12th time. It generated a lot of smoke in the room and I   remember Dad finally got a glass of water and took the candles off the cake one at a time and submerged them in the water to put them out completely.  We all had to laugh as we never suspected Grandmother to be such a jokester!

Speaking of Cakes I remember the weekend Bobbie brought Joe home from North Texas State to meet you and Dad.  She was really nervous and hoped that you would like him.  You had lots of food and multiple desserts but Bobbie decided she wanted to make a Boston Cream pie from a mix.  You whispered to me, “Stay in the kitchen with her and make sure she does it right.”  She mixed the cake batter, made the cream filling and put it in the refrigerator, and lined the pan with wax paper the way you always did.

 By the time she got it in the oven and set the timer, I felt like she could manage the rest.  That night we had a  wonderful dinner and when it came time for dessert    Bobbie was the only one who chose Boston Cream Pie.  It looked really pretty. The cream filling was in the center and iced with chocolate frosting.  Imagine our surprise when she ate a mouthful of cake and disappeared into the kitchen.

 You gave me “ the look” which meant what’s wrong with the cake? I gave you the “I don’t know shrug!”  In a few minutes, she returned to the table with the cake but no frosting on it.  She looked embarrassed but finally said, “I forgot to take the wax paper off the cake and after I split the cake and put the filling in, I frosted over the wax paper! “  We all laughed because my beautiful brainy sister was so twitter-pated she put frosting on top of wax paper.  Later on, we found out why she was so nervous when Joe asked Dad if he could have his permission to ask her to marry him

Bobbie is certainly a good cook now.  They have been married for over 50 years.  When I first brought Charlie over to meet you and dad,  you looked at his baby face and said, “How old is this guy, 16?”  We were both out of college by then and we have been together for 47 years.

I hope this brought you some moments of laughter.  You and Dad certainly were good role models for us girls.  We love you, Momma,
and pray for you every single day.  We look forward to when we can see you and catch up on all our missed hugs.

Kathy (the one who looks like Dad) and Charlie ( the now not-so baby faced hubby)

 

 

 

 

Lexi Anne turns two

 

 Dear Lexi Anne,

You and your Poppa have birthdays very close together.  He is my late Valentine because his birthday is the day after Valentine's day. He turned 71 and of course, you big boy cousins put relighting candles on his cake.  Fortunately, there were only 10 candles instead of 71 or it might have taken the fire department to put them out. 

We miss you and your sisters very much.  We are so lucky that your parents take lots of photos of you and your sisters so we can watch you grow and change right before our eyes.

Poppa has made treasure chests for all of our grandchildren.  He wrote you a note to go with it that I am posting in your blog as it will probably be misplaced as you grow.  Please know that you are a precious gift to our family and Diva and Poppa pray for you every single day.

February 10, 2021

Dear Lexi,

This is a special treasure box for a very special young lady, you. Diva and I have made it for you, to store your treasures.  There is not another box just like this in the whole world, just like there is only on Lexi.

We hope that you remember that you are dearly loved by us, and by so many others.

Your smiles light up a room, and we enjoy hearing you say, "Hi" when we are talking to your mom or dad on the phone.  We look forward to seeing pictures of you with your sisters.

Did you know that your daddy was our baby boy many years ago?  He was a good baby, and now he has grown into a wonderful man and father.  We haven't known your mother for as long, but we love her now as our 3rd daughter.

May the Lord bless you as you grow into the godly woman we hope you will become.  With all our love, Poppa and Diva

Happy Birthday to our Curly Girly.  Can't wait to see you again.  Your Diva

poppa's 71st birthday blow out

 

Happy birthday to my late Valentine ( February 15th).  We enjoyed celebrating with Tim, Suzy, and the grandsons.  The boys made Poppa birthday cards.  Oscar's said, Poppa, you are the best! (Sorry Diva).  Suzy baked him a chocolate cake and the boys put relighting candles on the cake.  Check out the hilarious video and Poppa's faces.  We are blessed to have family close by.

Your Birthday Card to Poppa

Your homemade birthday Card to Poppa on his 71st birthday. It reads:  Happy Birthday Have an awesome day! I made you a pencil holder. It is origami. have a fun day.  Sincerely Charlie.  (This is the first cursive writing we have seen you do.  I love the way you wrote your name and the smiley face.

 

Poppa's Birthdays card from Oscar

 
We love homemade cards from our boys.  This is by far my favorite of Poppa's 71t birthday.  

Note the Bold printing on the Card.

The inside picture is taking apart old keyboards and old electronics which is what Poppa and Oscar like to do on their playdates.

Oscar's writing is not the best so let me interrupt.

Dear Popps,  Happy Birthday!

You are the Best! (sorry Diva)

Have a great day!  Love Oscar 

                                

letters to your great grandmother

 

Dear Charlie,

This is a current picture of my Mom, your Momma's grandmother, and your great grandmother Watson.  She just turned 94 years old in January.  She lives in Alabama in a nursing home near your great aunt Barbara and Uncle Joe.

Great grandmother has memory loss so doesn't remember most of the stories of my childhood.  So I am writing to her weekly sharing some of my memories about growing up.  She thinks they are nice stories.  

The last time I saw her was a year ago before the Pandemic.  She didn't remember me but thought I was a nice lady.  I just smiled and said, Thank you, my Momma always wanted me to grow up to be a nice lady."

Dear Mom                                          February 7, 2021

It’s time for your weekly letter from your adorable middle daughter Kathy (Diva).  It snowed last night here in Tennessee and I woke up to beautiful pristine snow on the tree branches and ground.  It almost takes away your breath by the purity of it.  It reminds me of the hymn “Brighter than snow, Yes brighter than snow, now wash me and I will be brighter than snow.”  Today is Sunday, a calm restful day of church services on the computer of our local church and of your grandson Andy’s church in Fort Worth, Texas.

I am writing memories and stories for our grandchildren (your great-grandchildren) so they will know a little bit more about you and dad and the memories I had as a child. This is part of a story I wrote about my favorite memories of church.  This occurred while Charlie and I were working at Equipping the Saints in Virginia.

‘Several days ago we had a new volunteer ( a 17-year-old girl that was very quiet) she was working on scraping off loose paint from the window sills before we could caulk, sand, and paint them. Our Suzy always plays questions and answers whenever we are on a road trip so I started asking everyone questions trying to draw her out and learn a little more about her.

The question asked was, "What is one of your first memories of the church?"

Various answers followed, VBS, church camp, a wedding, stain glass windows in the sanctuary.

[I was transported back to my childhood and the one memory that stood out in my mind was sitting next to my dad in the church service. I was a wiggler and a giggler so was assigned to sit next to my dad so he could give me "the eye" when I got too antsy. I was intrigued by my Dad's big hand compared to mine. I would study it and play with his hand. Occasionally we would play a game where he would suddenly grab my fingers and my job was to keep him from entrapping them in his grasp.

This normally would keep me entertained and quiet for at least 20 minutes till I would suddenly break into gales of laughter causing my mom to give both of us

"the look" that instantly brought both of us to attention and make my Dad suddenly stop playing and start looking stern. We both knew it was to satisfy my mom because there was always a twinkle in those merry blue eyes.

I miss my Father's Hands. He was a good hugger, tickler, coach, adviser, sports enthusiast, friend, and the first man in my life. I miss his "Dutch Uncle" talks where he would tell me what he was thinking and why without trying to spare my feelings.

Our son was named after Dad  (Andrew Wallace) and I see many characteristics in him that were in dad.  I miss him every day.}

 We love and miss you,
Momma.  Hope this was a nice story of the man we all loved.  Same time next week?  Gotcha all prayed up sweet lady.    Kathy (also known as Diva)