Your happiest memory – what would it be?

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Oh boy, memories! Back in the late 60s when Billie and I first “settled” in this area, I got to operate a bush hog on my brother-in-law’s farm nearby. I remember him cautioning me about the danger of stings, etc. But I did it anyway. I had some (dairy) farm experience from my youth on Long Island.

After reading Big Al’s comment, I also began to remember…..I have lots of happy memories but one of my favorite times was hunting mushrooms in early springtime. I found my very first mushroom by giving up and sitting on a fallen tree. And by golly, there one was – right next to my foot! Hilarious! I love springtime in the woods! We don’t have a good place to go and hunt for them now but it was fun when I could.

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My happiest memory would be remembering it.

BATcher

Plethora means a lot to me.

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…..I have lots of happy memories…..

Isn’t it amazing that if we TRY we can dig out many, many happy memories. We also have to work hard to NOT let the bad ones get us down!

Mine will seem like a cliche to many people but because of what my lovely wife went through (medically speaking) for our first five years of marriage, it’s added glory and joy in my “memory bank.” I’m speaking about the birth of our one and only son, who is (thank God) now 40 and quite a good man in his own right!

Billie endured so many medical testing and experimentation procedures in those early years that we thought we would never be able to have a child. Sometimes those procedures even involved me (blush). Thank the Good Lord we found a doctor who diagnosed her problem immediately and within 6 months of having a “minor” surgical procedure, she was carrying around our baby! Back in the 60s there wasn’t such a thing as modern ultrasound, so we never knew until HE was born that we would have a boy.

When that doctor came out of the delivery room with our baby, I laughed, I cried, I yelled in joy and generally “disturbed” the whole maternity ward of the (then) small town hospital in Frankfort, Kentucky. Here he is today. Hint: he’s the big guy on the left and the two little guys are my second happiest memory:

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Isn’t it amazing that if we TRY we can dig out many, many happy memories. We also have to work hard to NOT let the bad ones get us down!

I chuckled about BATcher’s reply of “My happiest memory would be remembering it.” I find I don’t have a problem remembering, and I’ve discovered that I have so many happy ones to draw from, that they tend to keep me from remembering the bad ones. Thanks for sharing, Al. You have a lovely family! Please give Billie some Happy Easter Good Wishes from Hubby and me!

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So, aside from family related best memories, I think the next category would be about achievements.

In my final year of high school I desperately wanted to go to University so I worked really hard for months. So on the day that the results came in the mail I was really pleased that I had scored high enough to get into any course except medicine.

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In the mid sixties, with three children that had all reached school age (six, seven and nine), my wife Pat, and I took up weekend camping with the kids. Friday after work we would leave Ottawa and drive the ninety minutes required to take us to Long Sault on the St. Lawrence Seaway. This new mode of weekend life soon unleashed the urge to get a rod and reel for fishing.

Not long after this urge hit me I was the proud owner of a new–new to me–Shakespeare spinning reel and rod. It seemed that immediately after this acquisition; for the price of ninety-eight cents and the purchase of a tank of gas, Esso offered a spin casting combination rod and reel. I purchased one for my six year old son–Chris.

In those days it was not unusual for Pat to prepare a picnic supper which the family would enjoy at one of Ottawa’s many fine parks. But one weekday she phoned me at work suggesting that we go for a picnic supper down on the Seaway.

“Great idea!”; I said. “As soon as the kids get home from school, come and pick me up at work. I’ll arrange to slip away a little early so we’ll be down there with lots of time for supper and the kids will have time for a brief swim.”

“Oh, and don’t forget to pack the fishing gear.” I said.

On our arrival at the picnic grounds, everybody helped unload the car. Then while Pat set up the meal Chris and I collected our rods and went down to the water’s edge to practice our new found pass-time of casting. There we stood, about fifty feet apart; barefoot in water just above our ankles; not talking; Father and Son quietly enjoying that strange mixture of companionship enjoyed through a common activity, without the need for verbal communication. And with the near certainy that we would not catch anything.

Then at my elbow a little girl appeared. It was Nita my nine-year old daughter.

“Can I borrow Chris’ fishing rod?”, she asked.

“I don’t know Honey.” I replied, “You’ll have to ask him.”.

Off she went, down the shore to talk with her young brother, as I watched to see what kind of reception she would receive.

When she got to where Chris was casting, they were too far from me to overhear their conversation, though I was able to see that the conversation was pleasant. They spoke for a very brief time; then Chris turned and cast his line out into the water; once, twice and then a third time while Nita stood silently by.

What happened next caused my chest to swell with pride. My six year old son turned, gave the rod to his sister; then stood and coached her as she made the first several casts.

As I watched him walk down the shore toward me I tried to compose an appropriate greeting that would let him know how proud I was of his behaviour. He arrived at my side before I had decided what to say, and removed any necessity to say anything for he greeted me with;

“Dad; Can I borrow your fishing rod?”.

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………so I worked really hard for months. So on the day that the results came in the mail I was really pleased that I had scored high enough to get into any course except medicine.

This definitely would be a precious memory. There’s something special about finding out how much you can accomplish – it give a sense of freedom knowing you can do anything that you really would want to do!

…… What happened next caused my chest to swell with pride. My six year old son turned, gave the rod to his sister; then stood and coached her as she made the first several casts.
As I watched him walk down the shore toward me I tried to compose an appropriate greeting that would let him know how proud I was of his behaviour. He arrived at my side before I had decided what to say, and removed any necessity to say anything for he greeted me with;
“Dad; Can I borrow your fishing rod?”.

Aren’t kids delightful especially when they are your own? Your son not only was very giving, he was smart! I wonder if he still remembers this family trip and the day his sister started fishing too?
I’m still smiling thinking about how this all played out……..

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Big Al, forgive me if I over step my place here but, after ‘hearing’ you speak of Billie so many times here in the Lounge I can only believe that you have so many happiest memories to fill your mind. Thanks for sharing one of them with us. You are blessed many times over from the looks of it.

wdwells, that is a great memory. It is amazing how our kids have a way of leveling us out at just the right time.

Batcher, what can I say. I couldn’t stop laughing when I read your comment.

Johbot, I only wish that the many students that I encounter could come to understand what you realized in Highschool. Well done!

One of my happiest memories was when my mom moved us from southern California (LA area) to northern Vermont. This memory spans my entire first summer there. That is where I truly started to learn about real people, real life and how to live it. I came to know people that lived off the land and survived by their own labors. People that literally didn’t eat if they didn’t get their jobs done, and by people I mean everyone old enough to walk. Everyone had a place and responsiblity to the rest of their family and to their community.

In spite of this or maybe because of this, they were always at the ready to help out a neighbor. Always willing to share the best of what they had. I learned about nature, about farming (and where milk really came from!). Most importantly I learned about the importance of your family and your friends.

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Mine are attached. Only 11 grandchildren are shown here, but #12 was born this past Sunday. What a nice Easter present!!

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