Once there was ole Uncle Bob, actually he was Great Uncle Bob to me. He had his own music he danced to I guess, for he sure was different from other people.
Great Grand pappy’s generation had checked out before my birth except Uncle Bob and he joined them shortly after my appearing.
There is one thing about being a little strange, and that is people remember many things you have done, and Uncle Bob’s modus operandi was off the wall. In today’s world he would have been place in a State run facility, but then you just kept them at home, and hoped they didn’t burn the house down.
Both Grandpas’ generation has long since gone to their eternal home, but still I can put the names and faces together and remember a few of their idiosyncrasies. Because of their being rural people, this lumped them into similar existences, but each had their own distinguishing traits.
Seton Moser thought that whiskey was supposed to be drunk, and he drunk his share and a little bit more. His wife aunt Mattie was a quiet shy little thing that was longsuffering and kind. Seton was easy to get along with as long as you drank with him. The last time I saw him he was in Waco Texas living with his two sisters.
They took his bottle away from him and took him to church. During our visit my dad took him for a ride and asked him if he would like a drink, and he said yes. He took a long swig and said, “Ahhhhh that sure was good.” That was the last drink he had, for he died shortly after.
My favorite, Great Uncle Henry, and his wife Cora whose only daughter married what was called a, “No good,” and died young. She left two boys for Uncle Henry to raise.
Brown Parish and Aunt Ada with her brood of several boys and girls contributed to a mass of cousins. And then there was Gus and Ethyl Herald with daughter Josephine who had four children.
Grandpa had fifteen children all of which are gone except Uncle Herman who married Aunt Geneva. He is a tough old bird and is going to live until he dies. He is the prototype of one with a positive attitude.
And so, when I think about where the old folks that I have known have gone, I realize that I and my generation have become the old folks and we have already began to pass from the scene.
Little by little we are changing, a little more weight, a little less hair. A little more wrinkles and a little less memory. A few more aches and a little less action.
This Christmas I'm going to shop for one of those mirrors that lie, because the one I have doesn't reflect the real me…. Or does it?
Soon the next generation will say; where have all the old folks gone and they will be talking about me.
The answer being "Gone to be with the LORD"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cvYadad-x5Y&feature=related
This post is linked to Peter Pollocks One Word Carnival
The word is; Old
This post is linked to Peter Pollocks One Word Carnival
The word is; Old |
| image courtesy photobucket.com |
Once there was ole Uncle Bob, actually he was Great Uncle Bob to me. He had his own music he danced to I guess, for he sure was different from other people.
Great Grand pappy’s generation had checked out before my birth except Uncle Bob and he joined them shortly after my appearing.
There is one thing about being a little strange, and that is people remember many things you have done, and Uncle Bob’s modus operandi was off the wall. In today’s world he would have been place in a State run facility, but then you just kept them at home, and hoped they didn’t burn the house down.
Both Grandpas’ generation has long since gone to their eternal home, but still I can put the names and faces together and remember a few of their idiosyncrasies. Because of their being rural people, this lumped them into similar existences, but each had their own distinguishing traits.
Seton Moser thought that whiskey was supposed to be drunk, and he drunk his share and a little bit more. His wife aunt Mattie was a quiet shy little thing that was longsuffering and kind. Seton was easy to get along with as long as you drank with him. The last time I saw him he was in Waco Texas living with his two sisters.
They took his bottle away from him and took him to church. During our visit my dad took him for a ride and asked him if he would like a drink, and he said yes. He took a long swig and said, “Ahhhhh that sure was good.” That was the last drink he had, for he died shortly after.
My favorite, Great Uncle Henry, and his wife Cora whose only daughter married what was called a, “No good,” and died young. She left two boys for Uncle Henry to raise.
Brown Parish and Aunt Ada with her brood of several boys and girls contributed to a mass of cousins. And then there was Gus and Ethyl Herald with daughter Josephine who had four children.
Grandpa had fifteen children all of which are gone except Uncle Herman who married Aunt Geneva. He is a tough old bird and is going to live until he dies. He is the prototype of one with a positive attitude.
And so, when I think about where the old folks that I have known have gone, I realize that I and my generation have become the old folks and we have already began to pass from the scene.
Little by little we are changing, a little more weight, a little less hair. A little more wrinkles and a little less memory. A few more aches and a little less action.
This Christmas I'm going to shop for one of those mirrors that lie, because the one I have doesn't reflect the real me…. Or does it?
Soon the next generation will say; where have all the old folks gone and they will be talking about me.
The answer being "Gone to be with the LORD"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cvYadad-x5Y&feature=related
This post is linked to Peter Pollocks One Word Carnival
The word is; Old
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