Friday, September 13, 2013

'Cause I've had the time of my life and I owe it all to you......... Thank you Dirty Dancing.

Do you remember the first time you saw the love of your life? Do you remember how it felt when you realized that you really cared about this person? Did you fall in love first? Or were you wooed? I remember the first time I saw Scotty, he was working at my corner gas station. I was friendly with a coworker of his and she introduced us. He was so cute and so smart. I really enjoyed his company and I had a mad crush almost from the first time we met. I don’t think he even knows that today.

I truly believe that I at least was the first to fall into like. He has always been one of my favorite people to talk with. I couldn’t believe that this absolutely adorable guy was actually interested in spending time with me. Yes, I am older than him and that did present a problem in the fact that I did not think he would ever be interested in me. When he started to visit me at work and talk to me I was falling hard. I can remember him standing in the bowling alley and talking to me holding his motorcycle helmet wearing his leather jacket.

When he kissed me for the first time that was absolutely it! I was sunk, I had fallen so hard it was pitiful. Sigh. This year was the 21st anniversary of that kiss and 20 years since we go married. You see we got married on the anniversary of our first kiss. He is still the love of my life and my best friend. I love you Honey!!

Walking down memory lane.

Today brought up a lot of memories for me. Memories of events in my life that have meant so much to me. I remember being a little girl and walking around the corner to visit with my grandpa and grandma. We lived in Rancho Cordova, California and we were blessed to have them around the corner. Now mind you I was three years old and I wasn’t supposed to leave the house. But, I was a slick chick. I knew how to time it so that I could sneak out and go around the corner when I knew they would be home from work.

I loved spending time with my grandpa in the kitchen. He was the one that did the majority of the cooking. I had a stool that I would sit in to watch him cook. To me this was my little spot of heaven. My grandparents would always ask me “Does your mom know where you are?” Whether it was true or not I always told them that she knew. Honestly I don’t remember how many times it was really true that I asked. My mom tells me that she would notice I was gone and know exactly where I was.

Holidays were wonderful! The smells in his kitchen were always the best. Grandpa could cook like no one I knew. Ours was the perfect relationship. I would talk his ear off and he was always more than thrilled to let me rattle on. He was a man of few words and was always more than glad to let someone else carry the conversation. Don’t get me wrong, he would talk too. Just not nonsense talk like a small child might. I am not sure how much was nonsense though because I learned a lot of things from Egon Warnke.

He was one of the smartest people you might ever meet. He could do logarithms in his head out to the eighth place in his head. I have a problem doing them on paper and certainly not out to the eighth place. He was a self-educated man, he was forced to leave school in middle school to help support the family as many young men were in those days. He was born in 1908. He never served in a war because he had a glass eye from a mishap with one of his sisters as a youngster.

He worked as a drafter as a young man until you had to have a degree to do the job. He didn’t let that stop him, neither did he let not having a full education stop him. He was a hardworking man from strong stock. His mom, my great grandma was a strong, strong woman. When she married my grandpa's stepfather who wasn’t a citizen of the US she lost her citizenship and her right to vote. She did obtain her citizenship again.
In the days that she was widowed a woman wasn’t allowed to own the title to property so the farm was in her oldest son’s name. Grandma Cerr would get up early in the morning to make breakfast for the farm workers then go to work in the fields. Then she would leave the field to make lunch for them. While they ate she would return to the field to work. She would work as hard as any man. Grandpa learned well what it was like for a woman to be strong. This was something he always worked to instill in my mom and then later in my sister and I.

My grandfather was way ahead of his time. He always believed in equal rights for all. It didn’t matter who you were he believed you were his equal. I know many men born years after him that aren’t as evolved as he was. I am sure that it was because of his mom. He lived until about a month before his 99th birthday. He saw many things in his rich lifetime. He was a jewel.

You're the end of the rainbow, my pot of gold, You're daddy's little girl to have and to hold. Thank you Michael Buble

Today has been a bittersweet day for me. I had to say goodbye to an important part of our kids’ lives. Especially the girls. In the backyard had been a peach tree that my dad had planted when I was a teenager. This tree was a somewhat miniature tree. It was small enough that our kids at least the girls could climb it. They were 4 and 5 at the time. Loren was only 2 so climbing it didn’t interest him, but he loved sitting in the shade underneath it.

As happens in all great things lives the peach tree had reached its end. It was a dying out, after all it was nearly 20 years old. It had been a faithful tree. My dad decided it was time to get rid of the tree. It was time for a new tree, new life as it were. He explained to the girls that we would plant a new pretty and healthy tree. He used all this wonderful adult logic. Silly man. J

That went over about as well as I am sure you are all guessing. They were so upset. You would expect tears and such but not our girls. No siree! Those little ladies decided that they were going to strike. They were going to fight for what they wanted. Here was 4 year old Kody marching around the tree and yelling “Don’t cut down the tree!” I am sure that it could be heard for miles around.

Where was Kacy you ask? She was in the front room making a picket signs for Kody to march with and making a petition. She was convinced that if she could get signatures she could persuade her beloved Papa to change his mind. She went to every adult in the house asking us to sign her petition including their Papa. She was a girl with a purpose.
Now my dad was a sap for all of his grandkids but especially the three girls. My niece Stephanie, Kacy and Kody could wrap that man around their pinkies. So could the boys my nephew Ryan and Loren but it wasn’t quite the same. Dad wasn’t sure what he wanted to do. He wanted to laugh when she asked him but he didn’t want to hurt their feelings.

As with any good strike management had a meeting to see what they might do for the striking worker bees. My dad and Scotty were trying to figure a way around this. My mom and I smartly decided that we weren’t getting in the middle of that argument. They finally decided that my dad would cut down the worst of it and leave the kids the trunk and the Y where they liked to sit.

Now this was a decision that both Papa and the girls could agree too. There was a contract drawn up and all the parties signed it saving that tree. The kids all climbed that tree for years. Until they grew out of that stage and then it was still a favorite place to sit. We never got rid of it because it was a wonderful reminder of the man my dad was.

Today when I saw the backyard I was amazed at our beautiful fence because I had not had a chance to say goodbye to our peach tree. I was ready to cry, I still am. Silly I know, but that tree was a tie to my dad that I lost in May, 2001. I have other ties but it was one more thing that we lost this year. But, above all we have each other. I love you Dad! I am still a daddy’s girl.