I Buried My Brother
I buried my brother . . .
Kenneth Ray Jones
Find A Grave Memorial # 152655542
I 'literally' buried my brother on Wednesday afternoon, September 23, 2015.
Because I live out of town and still work full time, I was unable to be with my other siblings for the 'visitation' for our brother, on Tuesday evening. I left early morning on Wednesday and was challenged with inclement weather most of my drive . . . intermittent rain storms.
I picked up a friend who has been with me during this heart breaking week and a half or so. She is a widow (barely a year) of a long time friend, now training to be a grief counselor through Stephen Ministries. She has been here for me, as I was there for her when Dean passed away. Thank you, Roxi!
We had to travel an additional 50 miles, to Macedonia, Iowa for my brother's memorial service. Again, pelted with more rain - between the fog, mist, and rain I could barely see to stay in my lane. Fortunately, for me, Roxi used to drive in that area and kept us grounded and directed, so to speak.
My mother and aunt are buried in Macedonia. After the visitation on Wednesday evening, his body was cremated. Something different, I've not heard of, is that his urn is buried above our mother's breastbone; it's appropriate. A bigger city probably would not even allow that to be done . . .
Because of the weather and not having been out to Macedonia for a couple years, we left plenty of extra time. The area was already set up, and waiting for the arrival of Kenny's urn. Even though the entire trip was cloudy, grey, dark, dank, wet, and stormy, there were no storms during the memorial itself. My sister, Judy, did the memorial service . . . again, appropriate, if you know our family workings.
Having served in the U.S. Navy, Kenny got military honors (TAPS and 21-gun salute) performed by the Kanesville Riders Honor Guard. An interesting side note is that these are the same men that performed military honors for Roxi's spouse barely a year ago (the 7th or 8th in the state of Iowa). My bother's was the 108th time the Kanesville Riders Guard has officiated at local funerals and memorials! I personally thanked each one of them for their service and their work, with a good solid handshake. Both daughters will get a flag (one presented to the older daughter at the memorial service).
Once the family was gone, they began tearing down the canopy and getting ready to lay my brother's urn in its final resting place above our mother's vault, at our mother's breast bone. I asked the workers if I could possibly watch the procedure. Once the gentleman put Kenny's urn down into the hole, I asked if I could put in the first scoop of dirt. He was going to ask if I wanted to, but said some people are a bit creeped out by it. Oddly, it felt a peaceful action; he let me do more. I continued to scoop, tucking in the dirt around his urn. I did all of it except the original scoop of sod from the top. I had been raining (some torrential) for a couple of days and, believe me, that dirt and sod was mud-heavy!
Rest in peace, Kenny. No more pain, no more waiting, no more questions. Memories of you are tucked in my heart with as much love as I felt as I tucked your physical being into its final resting place.
And, here's the visual. This post is also for my daughter who was unable to attend, "Not just little girls 'do dirt'." When she was little we called playing in the dirt ... "do dirt"! *smile* ~nr larson-lenz
Kenneth Ray Jones
Find A Grave Memorial # 152655542
I 'literally' buried my brother on Wednesday afternoon, September 23, 2015.
Because I live out of town and still work full time, I was unable to be with my other siblings for the 'visitation' for our brother, on Tuesday evening. I left early morning on Wednesday and was challenged with inclement weather most of my drive . . . intermittent rain storms.
I picked up a friend who has been with me during this heart breaking week and a half or so. She is a widow (barely a year) of a long time friend, now training to be a grief counselor through Stephen Ministries. She has been here for me, as I was there for her when Dean passed away. Thank you, Roxi!
We had to travel an additional 50 miles, to Macedonia, Iowa for my brother's memorial service. Again, pelted with more rain - between the fog, mist, and rain I could barely see to stay in my lane. Fortunately, for me, Roxi used to drive in that area and kept us grounded and directed, so to speak.
My mother and aunt are buried in Macedonia. After the visitation on Wednesday evening, his body was cremated. Something different, I've not heard of, is that his urn is buried above our mother's breastbone; it's appropriate. A bigger city probably would not even allow that to be done . . .
Because of the weather and not having been out to Macedonia for a couple years, we left plenty of extra time. The area was already set up, and waiting for the arrival of Kenny's urn. Even though the entire trip was cloudy, grey, dark, dank, wet, and stormy, there were no storms during the memorial itself. My sister, Judy, did the memorial service . . . again, appropriate, if you know our family workings.
Having served in the U.S. Navy, Kenny got military honors (TAPS and 21-gun salute) performed by the Kanesville Riders Honor Guard. An interesting side note is that these are the same men that performed military honors for Roxi's spouse barely a year ago (the 7th or 8th in the state of Iowa). My bother's was the 108th time the Kanesville Riders Guard has officiated at local funerals and memorials! I personally thanked each one of them for their service and their work, with a good solid handshake. Both daughters will get a flag (one presented to the older daughter at the memorial service).
Once the family was gone, they began tearing down the canopy and getting ready to lay my brother's urn in its final resting place above our mother's vault, at our mother's breast bone. I asked the workers if I could possibly watch the procedure. Once the gentleman put Kenny's urn down into the hole, I asked if I could put in the first scoop of dirt. He was going to ask if I wanted to, but said some people are a bit creeped out by it. Oddly, it felt a peaceful action; he let me do more. I continued to scoop, tucking in the dirt around his urn. I did all of it except the original scoop of sod from the top. I had been raining (some torrential) for a couple of days and, believe me, that dirt and sod was mud-heavy!
Rest in peace, Kenny. No more pain, no more waiting, no more questions. Memories of you are tucked in my heart with as much love as I felt as I tucked your physical being into its final resting place.
And, here's the visual. This post is also for my daughter who was unable to attend, "Not just little girls 'do dirt'." When she was little we called playing in the dirt ... "do dirt"! *smile* ~nr larson-lenz
You never know where your life's lessons come from . . .
I just watched an episode of “Golden Girls” and the storyline is that Sophia thinks she’s had a heart attack, but the paramedics could not get through because of a storm. In the interim, Dorothy thinks about the possibility of the realty of losing her mother. She said to Blanche, “I am feeling like an orphan and she isn’t even gone yet.”
I lost my parents six weeks of one another. They were both 67. I was called home because my father was dying; rather, my mother passed away. I had to tell my father (who was in intensive care), that Mom had died. My father was sent to a rehabilitation center and lived another six weeks. I couldn’t get there in time, but sat next to him, talked to him, and wept.
My parents were the same age; they would have both turned 100 years old this year. I am the youngest of five; I have four half-siblings. I was raised as my father’s only daughter (another part of this story is that I have a sister I’ve never met), so it was my responsibility to tell Dad about Mom’s passing.
I was young in marriage when my parents passed. I had always felt alone and deserted, without them; ironic considering I was somewhat of a rebel and a tough child to raise. The past ten years of my life I’ve experienced a number of epiphanies about myself. I am a slow learner. It took losing my parents, my family, and several years of lousy choices and bad decisions to make me realize I have been angry at my parents, for leaving me. My loved ones still here were the unfortunate recipients of my feelings of grief and loss which played out in anger.
I never really thought about feeling ‘like an orphan’, until I watched “Golden Girls”, just this morning. I felt loss, felt alone, was angry. I knew that. I still miss them, after all these years. Dorothy expressed it so well, she said, “Here I am, over 50, feeling like an orphan. I might as well be six.” ~nrl larson-lenz
I lost my parents six weeks of one another. They were both 67. I was called home because my father was dying; rather, my mother passed away. I had to tell my father (who was in intensive care), that Mom had died. My father was sent to a rehabilitation center and lived another six weeks. I couldn’t get there in time, but sat next to him, talked to him, and wept.
My parents were the same age; they would have both turned 100 years old this year. I am the youngest of five; I have four half-siblings. I was raised as my father’s only daughter (another part of this story is that I have a sister I’ve never met), so it was my responsibility to tell Dad about Mom’s passing.
I was young in marriage when my parents passed. I had always felt alone and deserted, without them; ironic considering I was somewhat of a rebel and a tough child to raise. The past ten years of my life I’ve experienced a number of epiphanies about myself. I am a slow learner. It took losing my parents, my family, and several years of lousy choices and bad decisions to make me realize I have been angry at my parents, for leaving me. My loved ones still here were the unfortunate recipients of my feelings of grief and loss which played out in anger.
I never really thought about feeling ‘like an orphan’, until I watched “Golden Girls”, just this morning. I felt loss, felt alone, was angry. I knew that. I still miss them, after all these years. Dorothy expressed it so well, she said, “Here I am, over 50, feeling like an orphan. I might as well be six.” ~nrl larson-lenz
1973 National Archives Fire
This photo was found on Wikipedia. The tag line about this photo, according to Wikipedia, came from Wikimedia Commons. "The 1973 National Archives Fire, a severe blow to the National Archives and Records Administration of the United States, was a disastrous fire that occurred at the National Personnel Records Center (NPRC) in St. Louis, Missouri, on July 12, 1973."
The Wikimedia Commons is a freely license media fire repository. You can help. http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/Commons:Welcome
Approximately 16-18 million Official Military Personnel Files (OMPF) were lost. They included eighty percent of Branch Personnel and Army Personnel discharged between Nov. 1, 1912 and Jan. 1, 1960; and seventy-five percent of Air Force Personnel discharged between Sept. 25, 1947 and Jan. 1, 1964 (with names alphabetically after Hubbard, James E.). No duplicate or microfilm copies of these records were ever maintained, or produced. No indexes had been created prior to the fire. Millions of documents were on loan to the Department of Veterans Affairs before the fire so a complete listing of the records lost is also unavailable. However, during the ensuing years, the NPRC has collected numerous Auxiliary Records which were used to reconstruct basic military information. If you'd like to read more about this fire here is the link where I got the basic information: http://www.archives.gov/st-louis/military-personnel/fire-1973.html
There's a reason for this article, as you will see by reading the following story, about my father, his service to our country, and my experiences thus far in my attempts to obtain and find his military records. He is gone now, so I can't ask him ... as you might imagine, I was disappointed and disheartened when I received the news that his records were lost, along with 16-18 million others. My heart goes out to anyone else who has had the same response from the Records Administration in St. Louis.
The Wikimedia Commons is a freely license media fire repository. You can help. http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/Commons:Welcome
Approximately 16-18 million Official Military Personnel Files (OMPF) were lost. They included eighty percent of Branch Personnel and Army Personnel discharged between Nov. 1, 1912 and Jan. 1, 1960; and seventy-five percent of Air Force Personnel discharged between Sept. 25, 1947 and Jan. 1, 1964 (with names alphabetically after Hubbard, James E.). No duplicate or microfilm copies of these records were ever maintained, or produced. No indexes had been created prior to the fire. Millions of documents were on loan to the Department of Veterans Affairs before the fire so a complete listing of the records lost is also unavailable. However, during the ensuing years, the NPRC has collected numerous Auxiliary Records which were used to reconstruct basic military information. If you'd like to read more about this fire here is the link where I got the basic information: http://www.archives.gov/st-louis/military-personnel/fire-1973.html
There's a reason for this article, as you will see by reading the following story, about my father, his service to our country, and my experiences thus far in my attempts to obtain and find his military records. He is gone now, so I can't ask him ... as you might imagine, I was disappointed and disheartened when I received the news that his records were lost, along with 16-18 million others. My heart goes out to anyone else who has had the same response from the Records Administration in St. Louis.
Here is ... the rest of the story!
Since my father's military records were lost in the 1973 National Arhive fire in St. Louis, I decided to search elsewhere to see if I could find at least "some" of his experiences in the Army.
In my search, I found a document with my father's name on it. A close friend, whose spouse was in the military, has an awesome military website. http://www.vetshome.com/ So ... knowing how saavy he is about all things military, I asked some questions this morning (through an online chat with his wife). I am not a connoisseur of military terms. He was able to enlighten me about this document as well as more about what it meant, and how it affected my father. Wow ... is all I can say, besides thanking him over and over for his knowledge and information. This is one of those "nuggets" I refer to on my homepage, that is turning into my own personal "pearl" ... yay! I'm hoping I can find more ... perhaps photos, articles, or more military documents with his name.
The document I found was a Field Order from Merseburg, Germany. It was dated "Wednesday, 13 September 1944". It is a Debriefing Report of the 325th Squadron. Since Bob knows and understands military lingo and such, he shared this:
My father was in the "Army Air Force". During that time, we didn’t actually have Air Force like today; during WWII it was referred to as the "Army Air Force". Bob could tell by his squadron that he was a "gunner" on an airplane. WG = wing gunner - TG = tail gunner … also that he was on a "bomber" … they are all debriefed after a bombing run. They had to do that each time, after they went out. He could also tell how high up they were - 29,000 ft up. Not exactly front line, but flew over Germany, probably Saalberg. My father ran a machine gun on the plane, shooting at the plane that had attacked them. A wing or tail gunner is what they were called. He was under the belly or on top of plane, depending on what type of plane (in the middle, where the wing is). They had 3 holes in the plane when they got back (schrapnel), from being shot at... The WG beside Dad's name designated he was a "Wing Gunner".
Below this article, I have another document, a newspaper article. It is an article I found in his personal belongings (which were few as he was a very private man, most things were burned before he passed. I think he knew it was his time to go). The article is self-explanatory. He knew the military personnel looked forward to their correspondence from home; he was a mail carrier prior to his military career.
If there is anyone who has information, articles, documents, or stories they want to share about their loved ones, I would be more than happy to post them here. And, who knows, perhaps I can connect with people who knew him, or have relatives who may have known him during his tenure in the U.S. Army Air Force!!
In my search, I found a document with my father's name on it. A close friend, whose spouse was in the military, has an awesome military website. http://www.vetshome.com/ So ... knowing how saavy he is about all things military, I asked some questions this morning (through an online chat with his wife). I am not a connoisseur of military terms. He was able to enlighten me about this document as well as more about what it meant, and how it affected my father. Wow ... is all I can say, besides thanking him over and over for his knowledge and information. This is one of those "nuggets" I refer to on my homepage, that is turning into my own personal "pearl" ... yay! I'm hoping I can find more ... perhaps photos, articles, or more military documents with his name.
The document I found was a Field Order from Merseburg, Germany. It was dated "Wednesday, 13 September 1944". It is a Debriefing Report of the 325th Squadron. Since Bob knows and understands military lingo and such, he shared this:
My father was in the "Army Air Force". During that time, we didn’t actually have Air Force like today; during WWII it was referred to as the "Army Air Force". Bob could tell by his squadron that he was a "gunner" on an airplane. WG = wing gunner - TG = tail gunner … also that he was on a "bomber" … they are all debriefed after a bombing run. They had to do that each time, after they went out. He could also tell how high up they were - 29,000 ft up. Not exactly front line, but flew over Germany, probably Saalberg. My father ran a machine gun on the plane, shooting at the plane that had attacked them. A wing or tail gunner is what they were called. He was under the belly or on top of plane, depending on what type of plane (in the middle, where the wing is). They had 3 holes in the plane when they got back (schrapnel), from being shot at... The WG beside Dad's name designated he was a "Wing Gunner".
Below this article, I have another document, a newspaper article. It is an article I found in his personal belongings (which were few as he was a very private man, most things were burned before he passed. I think he knew it was his time to go). The article is self-explanatory. He knew the military personnel looked forward to their correspondence from home; he was a mail carrier prior to his military career.
If there is anyone who has information, articles, documents, or stories they want to share about their loved ones, I would be more than happy to post them here. And, who knows, perhaps I can connect with people who knew him, or have relatives who may have known him during his tenure in the U.S. Army Air Force!!
NEBRASKA FAMILY TIES ...
I've always known that my family roots, on my mother's side, are in the Sumner, Eddyville, Miller areas of Nebraska. Since relocating to Kearney after 30 years of living here previously, I have taken on trying to see just how much "family" I have in this area. Sometimes life happens when you're not looking. A couple years ago, by a casual conversation with a customer in the store I manage, I was "connected" with a cousin I have never met. Actually, this man's great grandfather (by marriage) is my grandfather's BROTHER!! I even have photos of his great grandfather, and he has none. As soon as I locate those photos, I will share one, so that he will have the actual photo, instead of a "newsprint" copy - it's all so very heart-warming. The surnames connected to me here in the Buffalo and Dawson counties primarily ... are Spellmeyer, Barnebey, Simmons, Line, and Warren.
If you are reading my blogs, you will know that recently my brother gave me the marriage certificate of our great grandparents, on our mother's side. Just for the record, because genealogy gets "muddy" the more you "dig", my siblings are all "half" siblings. We have the same mother, different fathers. I have four half-siblings, all older - one brother is gone now.
Both my parents, grandparents, and all aunts and uncles are also gone now. So tracing my family tree has become quite a challenge ... so, so very interesting, fun, and informative. The things I find when researching enlightens me to the point of understanding more about myself - understanding why I have an affinity for certain things, and even some understanding of my character traits. It's been a wonderful thing, and I'm excited to see what other "nuggets" and "pearls" I will discover, as I tromp through actual and virtual graveyards!
Through the years, as people die, it's amazing what is discovered. It's difficult to know where to begin. Family secrets may get revealed. Facts, stories, and memories that are shared, after a loved one is gone, often sheds new light about them, and others attached to their lives. And, you know, I'm fine with the fact that I may find rebels, renegades, fruits, or nuts along this genealogy pathway.
As soon as I got home from the visit with my brother, I got on line and began "googling" the names on this marriage certificate. I did not initially find my great grandfather, but did find an obituary with the "Barnebey" name, on www.findagrave.com ... my curiosity made me open that link - there I found my great-great grandmother. Benjamin Franklin Barnebey was listed as one of her "children". I wrote the woman who posted that obituary, explaining who I was, and why I was writing. I received a response from her husband, who seems to be either my second or third cousin!!! My "nugget" is beginning to turn into a "pearl"!
We have now shared more information. Not only have they helped me find more of my mother's family, but I will be able to assist them in their 10-year trek of research - making corrections of spellings, inaccuracies, and also fill in the gaps. It is going to be an on-going, and I hope lasting lifetime connection with my new-found family members.
I am doing this for a number of reasons. This is for my only daughter and two grandsons, my siblings, and their children and grandchildren - and for those in up and coming generations. I think it's normal for the younger generations to be uninterested (as I was, and my daughter as well). With a little maturity under our belts, and becoming parents, the idea of where we came from ... our "roots" takes on a different meaning. It will be interesting to see how much cooperation I get from within my own "blood" family, as some have chosen to "kick me to the curb", so to speak. I will keep my heart open, and ask them for help (for information I need) to continue and document our family tree. I guess I will find "what they are made of" - I am in hopes that they will "step up" ... to help, as it's a way for them to also be able to share with their families as well. This is a selfish motive, for me, and an unselfish motive, for them!
There's a little more irony here. My bosslady and her husband (who happens to be "Jones" - which is the surname of my half-siblings) mow the graveyard where some of the "Barnebeys" are buried.
On my father's side, I always thought I was my father's only daughter, however, when I was about 10 years old it was revealed to me (by my own curiosity) that I have a sister I've never met. It's too bad that I can't find her, I'd be able to tell her about her blood father. I have so little information, that will probably never happen.
I will continue to update my experiences, as I can ...
If you are reading my blogs, you will know that recently my brother gave me the marriage certificate of our great grandparents, on our mother's side. Just for the record, because genealogy gets "muddy" the more you "dig", my siblings are all "half" siblings. We have the same mother, different fathers. I have four half-siblings, all older - one brother is gone now.
Both my parents, grandparents, and all aunts and uncles are also gone now. So tracing my family tree has become quite a challenge ... so, so very interesting, fun, and informative. The things I find when researching enlightens me to the point of understanding more about myself - understanding why I have an affinity for certain things, and even some understanding of my character traits. It's been a wonderful thing, and I'm excited to see what other "nuggets" and "pearls" I will discover, as I tromp through actual and virtual graveyards!
Through the years, as people die, it's amazing what is discovered. It's difficult to know where to begin. Family secrets may get revealed. Facts, stories, and memories that are shared, after a loved one is gone, often sheds new light about them, and others attached to their lives. And, you know, I'm fine with the fact that I may find rebels, renegades, fruits, or nuts along this genealogy pathway.
As soon as I got home from the visit with my brother, I got on line and began "googling" the names on this marriage certificate. I did not initially find my great grandfather, but did find an obituary with the "Barnebey" name, on www.findagrave.com ... my curiosity made me open that link - there I found my great-great grandmother. Benjamin Franklin Barnebey was listed as one of her "children". I wrote the woman who posted that obituary, explaining who I was, and why I was writing. I received a response from her husband, who seems to be either my second or third cousin!!! My "nugget" is beginning to turn into a "pearl"!
We have now shared more information. Not only have they helped me find more of my mother's family, but I will be able to assist them in their 10-year trek of research - making corrections of spellings, inaccuracies, and also fill in the gaps. It is going to be an on-going, and I hope lasting lifetime connection with my new-found family members.
I am doing this for a number of reasons. This is for my only daughter and two grandsons, my siblings, and their children and grandchildren - and for those in up and coming generations. I think it's normal for the younger generations to be uninterested (as I was, and my daughter as well). With a little maturity under our belts, and becoming parents, the idea of where we came from ... our "roots" takes on a different meaning. It will be interesting to see how much cooperation I get from within my own "blood" family, as some have chosen to "kick me to the curb", so to speak. I will keep my heart open, and ask them for help (for information I need) to continue and document our family tree. I guess I will find "what they are made of" - I am in hopes that they will "step up" ... to help, as it's a way for them to also be able to share with their families as well. This is a selfish motive, for me, and an unselfish motive, for them!
There's a little more irony here. My bosslady and her husband (who happens to be "Jones" - which is the surname of my half-siblings) mow the graveyard where some of the "Barnebeys" are buried.
On my father's side, I always thought I was my father's only daughter, however, when I was about 10 years old it was revealed to me (by my own curiosity) that I have a sister I've never met. It's too bad that I can't find her, I'd be able to tell her about her blood father. I have so little information, that will probably never happen.
I will continue to update my experiences, as I can ...
LEGENDARY LOSS of "spin doctor extraordinaire"! I'm deeply saddened hearing about the loss of Dick Clark. Bless his heart ... may he rest in peace. Tears that roll down my cheeks are for the human loss of such a legendary rock pop culture icon and realizing his physical presence has transcended this earthy plane. Unfortunately, the younger generations missed a few decades that were the best ever ... the 50s, 60s, and 70s ... there are so many music-related things that would have never come to pass without this special man. My selfish heart brings
me to my knees with the loss of Dick Clark; I will let music heal my heart. Thank you, Dick, for the musical influence and impact you brought into my life! I would think that any baby boomer with knowledge of his passing, has at least stopped for a moment to reminesce of how Dick Clark affected their own personal life. As a husband, father, eternal teenager, producer, and international disc jockey Dick Clark has masterfully impacted the music world for decades. I was 10 years old when he started doing American Bandstand. Because of American Bandstand, I taught myself to jitterbug, watching all the dancers each week. I learned to dance, before I was even allowed to go to them. I loved how he would introduce new tunes, and pick dancers to judge them. He opened doors for so many musicians ... and even created opportunities for the regular dancers each week. ... so many great memories ... I will definitely be listening to some oldies, pulling out the "vinyl" - to reminesce, reflect, and heal. I'm sure many people, as I do, feel the loss of a personal friend. I will miss our "annual date" each New Year's Eve! |
http://www.usatoday.com/life/people/obit/story/2012-04-18/dick-clark-dies-at-82/54390716/1?utm_source=dlvr.it&utm_medium=twitter&dlvrit=206567
"Music is the soundtrack of your life."
"The problem is when you try to impose today's standards on people living back then. It's the politically correct thing to do, but it was a different era, a different country then." "I don't set trends. I just find out what they are and exploit them." "It's real good to be back with you again this year. You and I have been a part of each other's lives for so many New Year's Eves that I wouldn't have missed this for the world." |
"Heavenly" Coffee
The article below was the first article posted on my website. I have moved it from the bottom, to the top. Today would be his "birth" day. Today would also be my mother's "birth" day. Dale would visit Mom on occasion. He loved her (as she did him), and one thing they had in common, beisdes me, was their love of strong, stout, black coffee, preferably from a "drip" coffee maker. I can't help but think they're "tipping the day", with exactly that. Happy Birthday to my very special friend, Dale, and to my mom! ... and cyber hugs to Scott, who was fortunate enough to have found his lifemate. I want to remind him of a Dr. Seuss quote, "Don't be sad it's over, be happy that it happened! That quote is so appropriate since Dale was a kid at heart.
A few hours later ... see my blog, for an update, it's heart-warming!
A few hours later ... see my blog, for an update, it's heart-warming!
"Heavenly" Coffee ...
At the bottom of this section, you can see the first article ever posted on my website. I have moved it from the bottom, to the top. It is a tribute for my special friend of over 30 years. He passed away July 3rd, 2011.
Today (Jan. 20) would be his "birth" day. Today would also be my mother's "birth" day. Dale would occasionally go visit my mother. He loved her (as she did him). One thing they had in common, beisdes me, was their love of strong, stout, black coffee, preferably from a "drip" or "percolator" coffee pot. I can't help but think they're "tipping the day", with exactly that. Happy Birthday to my very special friend, Dale, and to my mom! ... and cyber hugs to Scottie, who was fortunate enough to have found his lifemate. I want to remind him of a Dr. Seuss quote, "Don't be sad it's over, be happy that it happened! That quote is so appropriate since Dale was a kid at heart. It's also an appropriate quote for me, as he was such a treasure in my life.
A few hours later ... see my blog, for an update, it's heart-warming! Want to share your memories of Dale? I'd love to hear them. Use "Comment", and share or "Write Me" privately!
Yesterday's post about Dale and my Mom netted a final total of nearly 250 hits on to my website ... wowsa! For a personal sharing of two loved ones, who were friends, and shared their "birth" days, that is quite impressive. If cyber-hugs can reach heaven, they're both feeling aptly hugged this morning! I forgot to mention that there are "photoshows" ... one of Dale's visitation and funeral and of a Mother's Day tribute I'd done, to my Mother.
Today (Jan. 20) would be his "birth" day. Today would also be my mother's "birth" day. Dale would occasionally go visit my mother. He loved her (as she did him). One thing they had in common, beisdes me, was their love of strong, stout, black coffee, preferably from a "drip" or "percolator" coffee pot. I can't help but think they're "tipping the day", with exactly that. Happy Birthday to my very special friend, Dale, and to my mom! ... and cyber hugs to Scottie, who was fortunate enough to have found his lifemate. I want to remind him of a Dr. Seuss quote, "Don't be sad it's over, be happy that it happened! That quote is so appropriate since Dale was a kid at heart. It's also an appropriate quote for me, as he was such a treasure in my life.
A few hours later ... see my blog, for an update, it's heart-warming! Want to share your memories of Dale? I'd love to hear them. Use "Comment", and share or "Write Me" privately!
Yesterday's post about Dale and my Mom netted a final total of nearly 250 hits on to my website ... wowsa! For a personal sharing of two loved ones, who were friends, and shared their "birth" days, that is quite impressive. If cyber-hugs can reach heaven, they're both feeling aptly hugged this morning! I forgot to mention that there are "photoshows" ... one of Dale's visitation and funeral and of a Mother's Day tribute I'd done, to my Mother.
He is gone, but not forgotten ...
January 20, 1948 - July 3, 2011
Dale Dohse, my very special friend of nearly 40 years, lost his life recently to a massive heart attack, age 63. I find it interesting how the "older" I get, the "younger" old really is, no longer looking at it from a child's eye view. I remember, as a child, how "over 50" seemed monumental, kind of "old". Now it seems as though "over 60" is "never too young", for new beginnings. On one level, I feel Dale was an old soul, filled with knowledge and wisdom far exceeding of what he gave himself credit. On another level, he never grew up ... he had a passion of remembering "how it used to be", reverting back to the childhood memories ... lost in the 50s, so to speak, attached to the things that made him feel "fuzzy 'n warm". No matter where, his home furnishings reflected his heart.
His love of all things music, movies, early black and white t.v., blonde bombshells of the 30s and 40s and the expanse all those encompassed was huge. From listening to his music, to looking at photos with autographs, to hearing him share his experiences, visits with Dale were always colorful. I love how his life carressed him with what gave him solace, peace and warmth. Those of us who were fortunate enough to have him in our lives, know that he was so magnamimous in life, it's difficult to wrap our hearts around the fact that he has passed on, that he is ... physically gone. Thanks for the memories!
I'd like to say "I Ain't Gonna Cry No More", but often you're "Always on My Mind" because "I Miss You So". When I find "All Alone Am I", I "Have a Little Talk with Jesus" about "Losing You". "As Usual", He will "Break it to Me Gently" that "It's Not Unusual" and Dale will always be "Close to You" ... "Come Rain or Come Shine"! I will "Love and Learn" and "Remember When" "Sweet Nuthins' " meant "Sweet Memories"!
Dale was a personal friend of Brenda Lee (lil' Miss Dynamite). He was 12. They met at a county fair in Nebraska (he had no idea she was the headline act that evening), and their childhood meeting turned to fan, then to friendship; and their friendship has become their history. He was special enough that Brenda sent a spray of flowers, in his memory. The above paragraph was a little ditty I put together using several of Brenda Lee song titles. Later I will upload a few of my favorite pics from two shows I was lucky enough to attend.
His love of all things music, movies, early black and white t.v., blonde bombshells of the 30s and 40s and the expanse all those encompassed was huge. From listening to his music, to looking at photos with autographs, to hearing him share his experiences, visits with Dale were always colorful. I love how his life carressed him with what gave him solace, peace and warmth. Those of us who were fortunate enough to have him in our lives, know that he was so magnamimous in life, it's difficult to wrap our hearts around the fact that he has passed on, that he is ... physically gone. Thanks for the memories!
I'd like to say "I Ain't Gonna Cry No More", but often you're "Always on My Mind" because "I Miss You So". When I find "All Alone Am I", I "Have a Little Talk with Jesus" about "Losing You". "As Usual", He will "Break it to Me Gently" that "It's Not Unusual" and Dale will always be "Close to You" ... "Come Rain or Come Shine"! I will "Love and Learn" and "Remember When" "Sweet Nuthins' " meant "Sweet Memories"!
Dale was a personal friend of Brenda Lee (lil' Miss Dynamite). He was 12. They met at a county fair in Nebraska (he had no idea she was the headline act that evening), and their childhood meeting turned to fan, then to friendship; and their friendship has become their history. He was special enough that Brenda sent a spray of flowers, in his memory. The above paragraph was a little ditty I put together using several of Brenda Lee song titles. Later I will upload a few of my favorite pics from two shows I was lucky enough to attend.