justplainbil

Just Plain Bill

“Mom always liked you best.”

Back in the 60s, there were two comedians, Dick and Tommy Smothers, enjoying great fame and fortune who liked to make fun of each other. Their routine often-included Tom’s signature line, "Mom always liked you best!" (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Smothers_Brothers)

As I’ve been writing about my three children, that line occasionally comes to mind, even though I love my three children equally. There’s always the possibility I would either talk more about one or another, or in some way give attention to “a more favored one” at the expense of the other two; you get the point.

As my recent birthday came and went, thoughts of my legacy occasionally came up, and my intention to dedicate one or more of my blogs to my three children was strengthened – a most sincere example of one’s legacy.

If you’ve read some of my early blogs, you may remember I’ve written a few times about my youngest daughter, Jessica, after fondly recalling a comment or question she had asked over the years. I often found them to be humorous – even when some proved to be embarrassing at the same time. These remembrances, while considered funny, are most vivid in my memory as there's over 30 years difference between my older children and my youngest daughter.

So, my first child, Karen, will be the subject of this blog and I’ll be dedicating a future blog to my second child, Carl.

From the first moment she entered this world, Karen’s pleasant demeanor and natural smile endeared her to all she met. It seems she was born smiling, and she truly lit up any room she was in.

At age two, Karen's word for screwdriver was “scurfdaugher”. It was her version of the word she picked up from me, one I used quite often chatting away while performing household chores. Even when there is a repair to be done today, I’m reminded by a little voice in my head that I have a need for a “scurfdaughter”, when it’s the right tool for the job. 

Karen loved to help. One most memorable time she "helped" happened when she was barely two years old. I was working on the door lock of a closet…and she closed the door while my fingers were in the door jam. She just may have heard her first cuss word from her father that day – which scared her of course and she cried. The pain in my fingers was far outweighed by my guilty feelings. I felt bad, and was not the worse for wear.

Another cherished and memorable time Karen “helped” with another chore occurred when she was a little older. We were painting the small fence in our yard that separated the lawn from the garden area, with white paint. While she was hard at work making sure the paint was applied evenly, I made the mistake of giving her an ice cream bar, vanilla of course. You guessed it! She mixed up the paintbrush with the ice cream bar, which resulted in a call to the poison hotline to see how best to clean latex paint from Karen's tongue. 

The most endearing memory I have of my Karen is when she was about eight years old. Adorned in one of her many “dress-up” outfits, complete with her customary much-too-long dress, a flowery hat, a scarf, and a much-too-large pair of high heels, she was dancing outside our patio sliding door so she could see her reflection. At that moment in time, Karen was queen in her world, without a care in that world, sharing all her talents without any limits or pretense. So transfixed, she did not notice I was on the other side of the glass taking it all in…with a tear in my eye.  

She went on to enjoy performing at church and school events, even earning her high school letter in gymnastics, and making me quite proud yet again. She helped me with the words to a song my 3^rd grade class was writing to celebrate our nation’s bicentennial, and she also added a wonderful verse to one of my favorite songs, “Tomorrow”, from the musical Annie.

Karen’s love for reading helped me to nearly memorize all of Laura Ingalls Wilder’s books, and all the Shirley Temple movies and songs. I am reminded of these feats of mental accomplishment, whenever I hear or read about any of those creative works.  

This proud father could go on and on, but let me finish with the most meaningful elements of one’s legacy: As a mother of four, Karen and her husband, Dave, are raising four “perfect” grandchildren (I am known to them as “Goofy”). All are known for their sensitive, creative, and caring personalities, making me the proudest grandfather on the planet.