After we opened the last present on Christmas Day, with Graham, Monnie and Jeffrey, we had some special notes to read we will treasure for a lifetime. In a note to her mother, Monnie wrote, “Mamas are the ones that keep families together.” I certainly have thought a lot about those words, and of course as I did remembered Mom. More and more I have been able to reach back and lay hold of precious things from our past and remember them savoring the sweetness of those memories. Some of those memories are so far back, that I am not sure whether I really remember the event itself, or if I heard it told so many times that I think I remember it. This comes from a time when we had Mom and Dad to ourselves. We were so young that in terms of memory, it probably falls in the latter category above. The picture above come from near that time in our lives.
We lived in house on the Hyatt farm, and we would walk to Granma Hyatt’s house across the pasture. Even though you are so much younger, you may remember this better than I.
There was only one bathroom at Grandma’s house, and my later remembrances recall that it was often occupied whenever I needed it. We would often take the path behind the house to the old “outhouse” that sat over a really big hole in the ground. Well, not only was “the hole” the site for Grandma’s outhouse, it was also a place where we threw away broken or useless things because it was so big.
Well, back to my story. Mom was peeling potatoes and doing her best to watch the two of us, when your interest in what she was doing brought you much to close to her work with the paring knife. Her knife poked you in the corner of your eye. There was blood coming from her baby’s eye, so she did what any other sane, young mother of two boys like the two of us would do. She grabbed you up in her arms, and ran (or maybe just walked really fast since I had to somehow keep up with my short little legs) toward help at Grandmother Hyatt’s. Along the way It is reported ‘til this day that I uttered the infamous words of that serious question,
Mommy, Mommy, are you going to throw “Bubby” in the hole?
We are grateful today that the knife missed your eye. Otherwise you might you might have a bionic eye to go with your bionic hip. I certainly am glad that Mommy didn’t throw you in the hole.
We shared so much growing up so close in age, from playing together as toddlers, to sharing a room together at College. I count it a blessing that God allowed us to grow up together, and be so close. You were often the peacemaker after Ricky Gene came along. In fact, in my young mind you were so good and so godly. I was convinced when we lived in Midvale, Ohio and the three of us shared the one bed upstairs, that if Jesus came at night, all I needed to do was to catch hold of your ankle and ride out the rapture of the church. Well, although I know now that my young idea wasn’t theologically sound, the thought speak volumes about what I thought of you.
Through the years, you have made so much effort to get our family together, a task that has become more complicated as our families have grown. Through those efforts you help to keep Mom’s spirit very much alive. This Christmas I want to say thank you, John. I love you so much.
Merry Christmas from your big brother, Danny Ray
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