|Me, Dad and Tim|
Since I love him so much, I have to share at least a few life stories about him. Actually, he was a big part of some posts I've done in the past, "Cali-for-ni-ay, Here We Come," "Truthful Tim," "The Blue Ghost," and "Honey West, Girl Spy." I can't top those, so click on the links if you'd like to read about him.
My earliest memory of him was when we picked Mom and him up from the hospital. I'd been staying at some of the church ladies homes while Mom was at the hospital and Dad was on the truck. (One house I stayed at was my very own mother-in-law to be, but at 3 years old, I didn't know it.) Granny got a friend to take her and me to pick up Mom. I sat in the front next to Granny - this was in the days before car seats - and looked over the seat to see my mom holding a bundle of blankets with some dark hair poking up. What in the world was all the fuss about?
I have no more memories of him until he was a fat butterball of a baby who went with us trick-or-treating. Holding him seemed to slow Mother down ...
I also remember him in a little walker-type of contraption that had a canvas seat that snapped together. It was pretty easy to unsnap it ....
Whatever animosity I may have had over giving up being an only child soon went away because he was the best little brother ever, willing to do whatever I said and trusting adoringly that I always knew what I was talking about. Man, I miss those days!
He was just so stinkin' cute. He looked a lot like Beaver Cleaver when he was tiny. He had some problems pronouncing some words which of course made everyone love him even more. At every family get-together, the story is told over and over how he got excited when seeing a snake up in the tree at the family farm and he yelled over and over, "Look, there's a sneak, a sneak, a sneak!" The family also like to ask him questions because he'd always say, "I dunno, Jelly knows. Ask her."
One of my favorite stories about my brother: In Kindergarten one day, his class was going next door to practice singing Christmas songs. My brother always hated singing and begged to stay in the room by himself. Surprisingly, the teacher let him. (I can't believe it, but she did.) When she came back, Tim had moved the room around, including the piano, all by himself! When asked why he did it, he declared, "It looks better this way. It was messy before." The teacher told Mom she thought Tim would grow up to be a designer.
He didn't but he has always helped to keep the house neat and clean. My sister-in-law is a blessed woman!
And I was blessed to have such a funny wonderful little brother. Happy birthday, Tim. I love you.