The Holidays stay with me.  And perhaps in a deeper and different way than when they were occurring, so stay with me, it’s safe.

     What’s happening, is that so many of the year-end TV programs were centered on people who died, moved on to the Next Room, but left a legacy for us, and I found myself doing the same, personally, only I went farther back than just 2012.  So will yours.

     The first to come to mind is LaRee Pehrson, who wrote news from the Magna area for the Green Sheet newspapers, and how I came to know her.  We became friends and I don’t mean just acquaintances, but friends.  In some ways we were as different as daylight and dark, but deep down we were Soul Sisters, learning, traveling, laughing and teaching with each other and I miss her.

     Then there was John Nuslien and some of you might have known John as the Bass player in local nightclub bands.  Good stuff, and while we were on different paths, our goals were the same and many a cafe table was occupied for long hours as we talked, as well as late night hours over the Land Line. They were good times, as always when Friends meet and share. 

     I think of my siblings, Amber, Spencer and Fern, and how Bernice and I, the only ones left of that family, talk, laugh and reminisce over those long ago days that belong to a different life-time.

     And Brad, yes, Brad, my husband.  I know we had our rough times, but then, who doesn’t?  However, the results have been great and as I saw ‘family’ coming and going these past two weeks, I grinned to myself, knowing  how amazed he would be to see how many  name him an ancestor.  He has been gone since 1969, and to them, is nothing but a long-gone name on a genealogical chart, but I’m here, and without Brad, they would not be who they are. Yes, I smile over such things, and Brad, it was good to know you.

     People who are gone?  Who affected my life?   Way high on the list would be ‘Gram’.  No, not my grandmother, but actually my mother-in-law, and as my real mother and I, with our different opinions,  sadly never could bond,  Gram took-me-in and,  called me her daughter.  I was at her death-bed, and we loved each other.

     So, remembering those who changed my life, I must include Pearl Buck the author of so many books that became known world-wide.  No, we never met, but she wrote from a deep mind, and her characters told me much of how to make a good life out of what you chose to live.  Her book “Her Son’s Wife”, opened my eyes to what a woman should know and do, (the man, she stressed, will be of little help) to make it a good marriage.  I can’t be the only one who let her words be a Teacher.

     And then I remember Bob Prince.  He was Shop Foreman at the Green Sheet and I knew we were friends when, at a rather ‘touchy’ office-staff  meeting, our eyes met and I knew we were seeing and hearing the occasion with the same minds.  From then on, we were Friends, and I miss him and his wry humor.

     I think of the lovely Bette Cornwell, who along with her husband Jim, were my Bosses down at 155 East.  I learned a lot from her and,  entirely unplanned, and quite unexpectedly,  we slowly  became friends, and I am happy  that her last sad years with Dementia are over and  I hope she did not know what was happening.

     My sister-in-law Margaret.  I had ‘known’ her all my life, but were only nodding neighbors, for after all, we were of different Teachings.  But later on we both became part of the Bradford family and as I had left the predominant Teaching of our locale, she opened my frozen, latent, hibernating mind to know that God loved me no matter what path I trod in trying to reach Him. Thanks, Margaret.

     And then there’s John Miller.  He died when we were both no more than seven year olds, but he sat near me in the school room and was the first to leave an empty space in my life by way of death, and that event was the beginning, at least consciously, of my  pondering and inner search of  the What? Why? How? and all else of Life. 

     My brother-in-law ‘Jake’, spent a seemingly lonely life, unmarried, no children, but when a sane mind was needed (like the day my six or seven year old son Bill, with his pal Steve were throwing water filled balloons at passing cars, almost caused a wreck, and brought the police.) Jake was there,  calmly, carefully apologizing, promising proper punishment and a good talking-to for the kids, and leaving the driver and police satisfied. Jake was a good one to have around in emergencies.

     And so I send my thanks and love to them all,  where ever they are, ‘knowing’ that in some way, in some place, we will meet and know that the long, strong threads of friendship never die but reach on, and on and on.  TYG.