When I die, I want to go peacefully like my Grandfather did, in his sleep -- not screaming, like the passengers in his car.

Wednesday, December 30, 2009


Sometimes someone tells me a story that just strikes a chord, you know what I mean?  It is almost like driving along and hearing some song on the radio and having to pull over and cry.  You do not really understand that emotion, cannot really remember a specific moment when something memorable happened while that song played, that tugs at your heart strings.  You just know that it does. 

My granddaughter, Abigail, received a stuffed dog for Christmas from my brother.  It plays songs and teaches the child things if you press its paws, feet, ears, and so on.  There is a little song that it sings when you press one paw that says, “I love you, I love you, I do love you.”  Every time that song plays, Abigail’s bottom lip starts sticking out, and she cries a heartbroken cry, almost like she’s hearing from another world we do not see or hear. 

That is the way I felt when I read Pam’s story about her life moments.  So, without any further ado, here are her words.

“Oh, wow, my most memorable moment.  Well, I'm quite sure most memorable moments are yet to come. Like watching my  children and grandchildren grow and thrive and live long happy lives.  I must say my most memorable moment to date was meeting Tim, my husband.  Because without him, none of my fondest memories would exist.  Tim is the most caring, loving, helpful and tolerant person in my world.   Together we had two beautiful daughters raised with care and love and values.   We are blessed.

And my favorite things to do as a kid?  Oh my, where do I begin?  I guess at the beginning.  I was raised in a small coal mining town in Eastern PA.  This is hard coal (Anthracite) and not that soft coal (bituminous) coal from out in the western part of PA.  I had the best parents ever.   My mother was the nurturer my Dad was the adventurer.  I lived a great childhood.  We didn't have much, but always happy, happy, happy.   We lived across the street from a school yard with a great playground and part of it was  a hard surface where they used to flood it in winter and make an ice skating thing.  Well, as you could imagine, kids flocked there.  Who wouldn't?  Kids get hurt while skating.  So, the hurt ones would come to my house and mom and dad would clean them up.  Their parents always knew where they were.  They were in good hands.  Soon after they stopped flooding the yard.

Then, almost every Sunday afternoon my Dad would take the neighborhood kids on a hike up the North Mountain; however, only in Fall when there were no snakes.  We would hike up that mountain and cook potatoes at the top and hike back down where my mom would meet us at about 4pm on the other side.  How cool was that?”

I would say that was VERY cool, Pam!  Thanks for taking the time to share with us all here at My People! 

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