It's simple - just be who you are

If you are my friend on Facebook one thing about me that you will know is that I have this pet peeve about split personalities. I have this issue [I guess you would call it] about people posting these wonderful spiritual pictures and quotes and then the next post being one that contains enough profanity to make a sailor blush.

When I do say something in one of my rants about it there is usually one or two that it offends or that offers to start a rebuttal about free speech. It’s not about free speech. That is by no means what I try to infringe upon when I go on a tirade about saying one thing one time and then something the exact opposite the next time.

I have this good friend of mine that came for a visit today. We were talking about this very subject and about how the very essence of this topic is simply the fact that you have to be one way or the other. You have to stand for something that you believe in and stand firm on that belief. Like my friend told me, if you don’t believe in anything then at least stand up for your lack of a belief in anything.

I have always tried to teach my children that you have to stand up for what you believe in. That means you can’t be a chameleon that blends in with one set of friends and then makes an about face and blends in with another set of friends that live by different rules and morals. Now I can’t say that I have not faltered in that area. I most certainly have. So when I try to teach my children something I always try to remember that I have to live by example not just by instruction only.

It’s as simple as the fact that you have to decide what image it is that you want to stand out about you. I have heard it said several times that your true character is what you are when no one is looking. While I do agree with that to some degree – I believe more that your character is what you are not ashamed to show people.

The social media – Facebook primarily for me – has been one of those things that have come along that makes me wonder what in the world we did before its existence. It’s basically one of my family members because it’s in my house with us all the time; it’s brought together old friends from the past and new ones along the way and brought long lost family members back into the picture. I love to get on there as often as I get a chance to just catch up and see what’s going on in everyone’s lives. One thing that is most entertaining to me is all the different personalities that people have. I can see one person’s name and almost always know that their status is going to be funny, someone else’s might always be inspiring and then there are some that make my mouth drop open because I never thought I would have heard that person say something like that. Suddenly an image that I have always had of that person is changed instantly and I look at them in a different (and a lot of times not flattering) light.

My point being that whether it’s in a gesture that we do in someone’s presence, a status on Facebook or a tweet on Twitter – it portrays an image of us and a lot of times one simple act can have such an impact on someone that it can result in a lasting impression.

Now I will say this there are people that I expect to entertain me with some of the things that they say. I have grown accustomed to their personality and I know not to be shocked at some of the things that they say or do. Doesn’t mean I think badly of that person – it’s just who they are and how they are. I respect the fact that even though I might be a diverse personality they don’t change for the reason of impressing me or try to be a different person for the fear of what I might think of them.

I myself try to portray the Christian that I am in my heart. Family and friends know I go to church and that I TRY my best to live by setting a good example. Sometimes that just doesn’t work out though. I lose my cool at a restaurant over bad service, yell at my kids when I’m having a bad moment, I tell Patrick off for something crazy or snap at someone for an unwarranted reason. When that happens I feel HORRIBLE! Because I know that I am not expected to behave that way – even if it is by my own expectations that I am falling short at that time.

To sum it up – it’s really quite simple. Pick how you want to be envisioned as when someone mentions your name. Choose what example that you want to set for others. If you want to cuss like a sailor then so be it but don’t whip out the Bible to quote scriptures for the next audience just because that’s who you think you have to be. Let the person that you see yourself as in the mirror be the same person that you display to everyone else.

That magic you find in a sandbox

This past Sunday after church we met my daughter Jessica and my granddaughter Peyton at the park. I was sitting there watching this little bundle of energy dart back and forth across the playground in her relentless pursuit of trying to ride the see-saw and slide down the slide as many times as possible. She ran and giggled until she couldn’t anymore. The playground was just her little world of happiness.

After we had been there for a little while another family came with a couple of children. I watched Peyton as the other kids made their way to the slide and how she instantly ran over there like she was about to stake her claim on that big blue piece of property with her name (in her mind) posted on the ladder. Jessica watched her daughter attentively not knowing if she was going to have to go rescue one of those poor unsuspecting kids that just came to play on a sunny Sunday afternoon and didn’t want any trouble. Then in an instant it almost seemed that Peyton went from the natural temperament of any toddler who initially had a playground to herself to the disposition of a little girl who just made a friend for life. Within minutes the kids were playing together and Peyton and her new best friend for the day were carrying on a conversation that would perplex the minds of any adult trying to figure out what they were saying.

I sat there watching them play and found it amusing that 5 minutes prior to their new bond of friendship they were just little strangers that started out with a staring match over a slide and a see-saw. To them they didn’t pay attention to each other’s physical appearance, they didn’t know what the words race, politics or religion meant, and they weren’t influenced by greed or selfishness. They were just kindred spirits of the playground who were enjoying the moment.

 I thought how wonderful it would be for us to all be like that. But instead we grow older and our lives are tainted with things that interfere with the possibility of living a life with such simplicity. We judge each other too harshly, we are tempted by envy and jealousy, and we base our friendships on conditions and stipulations. Wouldn’t it be great if we lived in a world like the one that exists on a playground? One were it was all common ground and we didn’t instantly judge someone or not want to befriend them because of their race or their beliefs? And wouldn’t it be nice to just immediately trust someone without them having to earn it?

I’ve been thinking a lot about the events over the past several years that have taken place at the hands of terrorists and people who want to destroy our country. I’ve thought about how before all those tragedies have taken place we were just individuals living our own lives and seldom thinking about others. But as soon as someone tries to come between us we band together and we fight back. It shouldn’t be that way though. It shouldn’t take someone trying to tear us apart to make us want to come together. Just like when we were children playing together with complete strangers - we still have that common ground - it's just not a playground anymore.
I think that it’s sad that as we grow older that the difference in us as adults rather than children is that we need a reason or an excuse to trust someone or to form that bond. We don’t have that innocence anymore that allows us to just be friends with someone simply because we are kindred spirits. The difference now than when we were kids is that we look at so many other things about each other that aren’t important and we don’t look at the potential in each other.

I suppose that is what happens when you step out of that sand box and into the world of being a grown-up. You stop playing nice and stop just being friends with complete strangers. Personally, I wish I could take some of that magic sand that you find in the sandbox and sprinkle it onto the rest of the world because it sure would be an almost perfect world if we all just saw in each other what two toddlers see in one another on a playground.

Small town scenery & a foot long hot dog

This past weekend was my youngest daughter’s prom. I had hired a photographer to capture the moments for us and we decided to take a lot of her pictures in the middle of town. At first I was kind of skeptical about the location because I wasn’t certain that there would be enough of a variety there to capture many good shots.

Of course being the proud mother that I am the only thing that I cared about capturing was the subject of the pictures and that was my beautiful daughter. Lindsey (the photographer) was putting Kailee in front of doors, walls, signs and even nestled into a little opening between two buildings. During the process of taking the pictures I kept noticing little things about the town, that I have spent a majority of my life in, that I had never paid attention to in the past. I mentioned to my mom and some friends that ‘I never saw this or had never seen that before.’ But if the truth be known it wasn’t that I didn’t see them I just didn’t take notice of them.

After we finished in town we went up on the river to take a few for a different range with scenes. In all the hustle and bustle of taking the pictures I was content with just focusing on Kailee and her date. At this point the scenery had taken some what of a back seat in my thoughts.

When some of the pictures were ready to look at I was amazed at how much the backdrop

in the pictures enhanced the beauty of them. After I was finished fixating on how beautiful Kailee was in them; I looked at the pictures again and this time I looked at the surroundings.

It’s funny how you can grow up somewhere or you spend years living in a place that you just don’t pay attention to the things around you and just become complacent with driving by and not taking in the scenery around you.

With that scenery there are so many memories of growing up in such a special and beautiful area.

Our little town of Tellico is a community that is nestled amongst some of the best things that life has to offer. There isn’t a corner in that town that doesn’t have a bit of history that intrigues anyone who takes the time to listen to the stories. You could stand in the center of town and point in any direction and someone in the crowd would have a memory that would instantly be associated with whatever landmark that you pointed to;

whether it be Moree’s Grocery, Tallent’s Hardware or where Slim’s Tavern or the Coffee Shop used to be, there would be stories to tell. Not to mention that we own the bragging rights to the best bakery in East Tennessee.

Some of the old businesses aren’t there anymore and new ventures have started over the years. With the passing of old traditions new ones have started paving their ways for the newer generations. But the memories that little town holds for so many others like me will all be close to our hearts no matter how many buildings are updated or torn down.  

Several years ago there was a group of men (lawyers I think) that it was rumored were going to invest all this money in our little town and fix it up like a mini Gatlinburg.

I don’t know if it was just that – a rumor, or if the plans just didn’t follow through. Personally, whatever the case may be, I’m glad it didn’t happen. That’s what makes where I live most special. It is its own little corner of the world where the hustle and bustle hasn’t invaded the streets and the sidewalks. It’s the place where you can still buy your garden seeds and plants in front of the hardware store and just walk in and charge it by signing your name on a piece of paper in a notebook. It’s the place you drive through and wave at the men standing at the co-op loading feed on a Saturday morning. And it’s where you drive along the river and stop at the Beach Drive-In for a foot long hot dog and a hot fudge cake while you sit at the picnic tables and watch the kids swing fearlessly from the rope across the river.

Granted there are some advantages to living in the big cities – being able to spend the afternoon at the mall, making a last minute decision to go to the movies and not having to drive an hour and having your choice of 20 or 30 restaurants within a 5 mile radius where you could get a good steak or a some seafood. In fact you could probably list a lot more reasons for some people to live in the city than you could for them to live in a small town called Tellico Plains. To each their own I suppose but to me I like having my little town with it’s own special perks and personally I would take a foot long at the beach on a summer night over a lobster tail in the city any day of the week and twice on Sunday.

A fella named Chester and a gal named Gracie

Chester was a one of a kind. If someone said anything about him it was sufficient to only use his first name because there was hardly anyone in Tellico that couldn’t recite a Chester story. He was famous for his Tarzan yell, riding his bike everywhere he went with his son following right behind him, and even for the time he drove his car from Tellico to Madisonville – in reverse! Chester was a quiet man but he didn’t hesitate to light you up if he had a burr in his saddle over something.

Chester was found dead yesterday afternoon. He had been shot. Rumors started circulating immediately about his death, and phones were ringing all over town passing the word around that Chester was gone. No one knew what had happened but the one question that stood out above them all was “how could anyone do anything to hurt Chester?”  

Gracie was another fixture in Tellico. Even though Gracie was probably a common name at her time you still just had to mention the name Gracie and everyone instantly knew who she was. Some called her the town beggar; others said she participated in the oldest profession (if you know what I mean). She was always walking the streets day and night and dressed as if she hadn’t owned new clothes in several years. Mostly everybody just laughed off poor ole Gracie if she took to one of her yellin’ fits.

In church a couple Sundays ago we got to talking about certain people and how you stereotype them by their appearance. A lady went on to tell us when her little niece was killed that there were people all around and all that she could hear amongst all the crying was Gracie on her knees praying. When Gracie passed away years ago people say that when they went to her house that it was spotless and they were so amazed because they never would have thought that by how she dressed and acted.

I guess that just goes to show that no matter how crazy someone acts, how they dress or how they present themselves there is always a side to someone that you don’t know or don’t look too hard to see.

There are a lot of people that live in our community. Some are held in high regards because of an office or position that they hold and some are just your average citizen. Very few of them though can be mentioned by first name and you automatically know who they are talking about. I have well over 200 cousins, quite a few friends and at least a 100 or so people that have worked with me over the past 30 years; but even if you mentioned me by just April some would know who you are talking about but others would ask ‘April who?’ I have accumulated over 1,000 people on my prestigious “friend’s list” on Facebook and most of those would have to have you make reference to April Duckett White before they knew who you were speaking of.

Wouldn’t it be nice to live your life so that it would be sufficient when your first name is mentioned people instantly know who you were because of an impact that you had left in people’s lives?

I used to dream of being an actress [like a lot of little girls do] when I was just a kid. But now that I am older I would like to be known for more than credits on a movie screen or a picture on People magazine. I would like to know that many years after I am gone that I lived a life in some way, shape or form that made people remember ‘just April’. I don’t think that you have to be a pillar of the community to be remembered. I think that you have to make your presence known in a community. Chester and Gracie both were really just everyday, normal and down to earth people. They were simple people, which granted most thought were a tad bit on the crazy side, but nonetheless, they were a person that people will always remember. I would wager my last nickel to say that in another 10-15 years someone can bring up a story about a man named Chester or a woman named Gracie and there will always be someone in the crowd that either knew them or that can say “hey I heard my parents talk about him or her.”

I think that Chester and Gracie lived a life that gained them recognition without them striving for it or wanting it. I think they lived a normal life, not afraid to be who they were, and that’s why they are remembered. They left impressions on the people in our community that will be imprinted in our minds for many years to come.

I don’t want to be famous, I want to be more like crazy Chester and Gracie – I want to be someone that leaves behind a legacy so that when people talk about me it is sufficient to just say ‘April’ and not have to hear the response “April who?” But I want that life to be one that whenever someone mentions “April” that people smile at the memory of me.

Sure will miss seein’ you around town Chester – make sure you say hi to Gracie when you run into her and tell her that just like you, she will never be forgotten.

Nothing like walking with the roosters

I went walking today on my lunch break for two reasons - mainly because I needed to and also because I needed to clear my mind. You know when your mind is too bogged down to even come up with a subject for your blog (because I do like to talk) then you have too much on your mind.
As I walked the walking trail there was a house beside me that had at least a half a dozen roosters. They evidently have been thrown way off by the daylight savings time changes though their lives because they were crowing like it was the crack of dawn. There were kids and adults playing on the playground laughing and having fun. And over to the other side of the track were a couple softball fields. The fields were empty but I could have just stood there for an hour looking at them and closing my eyes to imagine the sights of the kids out there playing and visioning Kailee out in left field. As crazy as it sounds I could smell the dirt from the fields because I have sat through so many games of that sport.
There wasn't a whole lot of traffic on the streets because most of the offices and some businesses close at 12 on Wednesdays. It was just a nice peaceful walk being surrounded by all the things that I love so much about where I live - especially the roosters.
I had taken my cell phone with me (when you have kids out and about you never go anywhere without it) and I had to make a call so I got out my trusty flip phone [that some would argue survived being on the ark with a partner and Noah] and made my call. Everyone gives me a hard time over that old cell phone telling me I need to give it up and join the rest of the real world with smart phone. I'm just fine with my phone though, it serves it's purpose - I communicate with my kids, my loved ones and my friends on it and to me that's all I really need it for. I can shoot out a text in 10.7 seconds on that phone and have every feature of it memorized. I have actually grown kind of attached to the old thing, in fact on more than one occasion I've thought it was a goner through negligence or carelessness and I thought I was going to cry.
I think that it was a sign that the world of technology was quickly passing me by when 17 years ago I had to take my 6 year old daughter Jessica with me to tell the guy in the electronic store what kind of computer I needed and how many bytes of this and bytes of that I would require. 
Everyone around me has a smart phone including my mother (who would rather me not mention her age) and kids of all ages. I feel somewhat intimidated when I see a 5 year old whip an IPhone out of their backpack and go to town on it. My niece Brook even has a Pinterest and knows how to create boards and pins! My kids all could have went to work for an electronics store at the age of 8 or 9. Not me though I'm the one who sits in the restaurant and hides my good ole flip phone beside me in the booth or under a tablecloth so I won't be shamed by just the average citizen for not upgrading. Just the other day Patrick and I were at Outback Steak House and this man who was obviously in the upper years of 70 (judging by his walking cane and numerous wrinkles) was tweeting or something. I myself attempted to enter that world of Twitter and was completely certain that it was not my cup of tea when I couldn't even figure out just how and when to use a #hash tag.
Don't get me wrong I think all these things are great to a degree - they are very entertaining and somewhat educational in a lot of ways. I envy the people who are smart enough to catch onto new things and master them in no time. I think though that some of the "smart" things are probably disasters just waiting to happen. You know like the smart car. What the heck is that about? I mean I'm sure it's great on gas, but how awesome is that car going to be when you total it just hitting a small animal crossing the road? Every new season there's a new electronic device to make life a little easier. The phone book is obsolete, the dictionary is never heard of and why in the world do they even keep those folded maps in the convenient stores anymore?
Now trust me I do love the world of Google - it is perhaps my favorite part of technology. But for the life of me I'm not sure how we ever functioned when I was in high school. I guess it was the wonderful world of Britannica encyclopedias that got us through. Kinda makes you wonder what happened to all those door to door salesmen that made a living selling those things ONE LETTER BOOK AT A TIME! Wonder if any of them ever made it to retirement without being replaced by a search engine online?
I guess that life just passes me by too quickly and I have a hard time catching up. Either that or I'm just a little old fashioned and I like the simpler things in life that don't require an act of congress and two Philadelphia lawyers to figure out.
Granted I love to play a good game of Candy Crush and to compete with my Mom on Words With Friends. I like to get on Facebook and read my friend's status updates and look at pictures. But the rest of it I'm just not ready for.
During my walk though today with all those wonderful and simple things surrounding me I was perfectly fine with the slower pace of things. It was nice to just take the time to enjoy the simplistic side of life. Maybe one day I'll trade in the trusty little LG flip phone for a smart phone but for now I'm fine with the only tweeting that I understand being the birds outside my bedroom window each morning.  

Achieving my degree in grilling

One of my favorite things about warm weather is bringing out the grill and fixing everything that can be grilled on it as much as possible. In my family we take our grilling very serious. You don’t just grab a frozen burger patty and slap it on there to cook - there is much more to it than that.

My dad was the CEO of the grilling in our family. He had very high standards when it came to lighting up the Kingsford Charcoal and he didn’t hesitate to tell you to step back and let him handle it. He grilled a hamburger that would make any restaurant envious of the taste and pondering on what technique he used to make it so good. In dad’s opinion a good burger was based on whether it was cooked in a way that the juices from it ran down from your hands to your elbows when you ate them.

Looking back now I almost giggle sometimes thinking about how he would prepare and marinate whatever he was going to grill or smoke on the smoker for the day. He would keep his back turned to us and we never knew what he really seasoned half of the stuff that he grilled for us. He would reach and snatch things out of the cabinet so fast your head would spin just to keep us from seeing what he was using. His seasoning ingredients and recipes were better protected and kept more secretive than most of the operations at the CIA or Homeland Security. All I do know is that whatever it was that he chose to use as his flavoring of the day for that particular victim of the charcoal was so good that you couldn’t get enough of it.

He would stand by that grill as if he was guarding the gates of the White House and would give his undivided attention to what was sizzling beneath the lid of that grill.

He very seldom ever used a meat thermometer – he knew exactly how many minutes that he was required to wait to turn it over and he knew just by the looks of it how close to perfection that it was.

His grilling was definitely the highlights of warm weather and there wasn’t a person that tried his burgers that ever walked away not thinking it was one of the best things they had ever eaten. Like I have said before, if the truth be known that was the main reason that most of my family came to visit from Ohio – just to have a Kenny burger.

I remember one time that I was brave enough to think that I could take over the grilling for that day. I carefully and humbly approached Dad and asked in an ever so timid tone “can I grill the burgers today?” He studied the concept of that for just a minute, looked at me ever so seriously and said in a voice that would have intimidated Colin Powell – “I’m not sure if you’re ready for that yet Sis but I’ll give you a chance ONLY if I supervise.”

(See I told you he took it seriously).

When the time came I squared my shoulders, took a deep breath and walked into the kitchen with him behind me. I washed my hands that were trembling with the anticipation greater than that of someone on Iron Chef preparing to go into battle against the likes of Bobby Flay. By this time Dad had found his place at the bar stool seated perfectly to observe my preparation and seasoning techniques. In a little while I was ready for the most important part of the test – to put the burgers on the grill. (I might add here that my father didn’t believe in the simplicity of a gas grill – it had to be charcoal and there was no using the pre-lit kind, it had to be started with a canister and newspapers crumpled underneath it so that it was a pure charcoal taste with no additives) I checked the charcoal briquettes and they were just the right combination of black with gray around the edges, I pulled the handle and released them into the perfect pile. Under his watchful eye I placed the patties on the grill and closed the lid. I waited for the appropriate amount of time; I lifted the lid, turned them over, closed the lid and waited once more. Then when I was within merely minutes of passing the test I did something that I KNEW not to do! I took the spatula (the golden grilling essential part of the process) and I pressed down on the unsuspecting patty. It was like one of those moments in an intense filled dramatic movie where the actress looks over her shoulder slowly knowing that she is about to be caught for doing what was obviously the unthinkable. I heard him sigh, and it was if without even turning around I could see him silently shaking his head in disbelief. He came to me, reached out his hand and as I hung my head in shame I handed over the spatula. He said – “Sis – it’s not time – you aren’t ready to take this job over yet. You know that you never – ever – press the juices out of the burger. We’ll try this again when I think you are ready.” I respectfully conceded to my mistake and walked the walk of shame back into the kitchen. It was a turning point in my life as an outdoor cook and I learned a very valuable lesson that I would carry with me each time I walked to a grill every time after that.  

Eventually Dad passed the spatula onto me with confidence and even though he didn’t think I saw – I always noticed him peeking out the kitchen window observing me from a distance – just to make sure I was following the proper etiquette of grilling. In fact I can’t help but laugh when I catch myself peeking out the window at poor Patrick when he’s trying to grill something and most of the time he just willingly gives me the spatula for the sake of not being scolded by me if he does something wrong.

It’s funny how the simplest things turn into some of the most precious memories. There is never a time that I go to the grill that I don’t take my dad with me and imagine him standing there beside me watching me ever so carefully as I turn the burgers and resist the temptation of pressing down on them with the spatula.

The Hillbilly, the Yankee and a perfect marriage

Today would’ve been my Mom and Dad’s 47^th wedding anniversary. I know that this is going to be a difficult day for her and my heart hurts thinking about how she must feel.

I was very blessed as a child growing up to have not only the parent’s that I had, but to have the example of what was, as close to perfect as there can be, where marriages are concerned.

In the 45 years of my life I never one time heard my parents argue. Oh I’m sure they had their occasional marital bout over things but when/if they did it was certainly never in the presence of us kids. In fact, I don’t even recall a harsh word or a voice raised by either of them when it came to each other. Now to us kids….welllllll….yeah they raised their voices a time or two – but I promise you we deserved it!!!

I could tell story after story about the relationship that my parents had. Their life together actually was a storybook unfolding everyday with a new page and chapter. Their relationship was something that they worked on every single day and most of the time it was without effort – it had just developed into a habit. Their vows that day meant something to them and they spent every day keeping those vows. They were each other’s very best friend. They talked about everything – whether it was something as trivial as what to have for dinner or something monumental about life changing events.

My dad worked 2^nd shift a lot when I was growing up so he would get in late at night. But I remember every morning getting ready for school and my mom fixing us breakfast with my dad drinking his coffee in the dining room and them “just talking”. Even when I got older and moved out I would come for visits and it would amaze me that he would still be sitting at the bar “just talking” to my mom while she cooked dinner. I couldn’t believe after all those years that they still “just talked”.

My parents always supported each other and if there was a difference of opinion in what they believed in they compromised with each other. Mom didn’t always want to do what Dad did and vice verse but they agreed to disagree or they simply made a compromise that allowed them to never let it be an argument.

Most of all they trusted each other. They were confident in their love for each other and even when times were hard that love was enough to conquer anything.

I remember this story that my dad told me once and I will never forget it. He had gotten a promotion at work and traveling was part of it. He said that one time when he was on the road [he would be gone all week] and he stayed in hotels 4 and 5 nights out of the week. Well one particular night he was at a restaurant in the lobby of a hotel. A very pretty woman came up to him while he was eating by himself and she came and made some small talk. Before she left his table she slid her room key onto the table and walked away. Dad said ‘now she was a beautiful woman, I’ll give her that. But when I looked at her room key I saw your mom. I saw the nights that she was up all night throwing up from morning sickness. I saw all the nights that she walked the floor with one of you kids sick and when morning came she still fixed my breakfast looking kinda rough and worn out. I saw her gain weight with each of you kids during her pregnancies and I saw her have Lord knows how many different hairstyles (not always flattering LOL) and I saw how she made sure that my clothes were washed, our house was cleaned, and our bills were paid. And to me at that moment your mother was more beautiful than that woman could ever dream of being. At that moment I loved your mom more than I ever had because I realized how very blessed I was.’

The love that my parents had wasn’t something that inspired a Lifetime Movie or a Nicholas Sparks novel (although given the right author trust me there would have been enough inspiration and material for a great love story). Their love though was something that left an impression on many that knew them and especially us kids. Speaking for myself, it gave me something to hope for – something to dream of having one day.

I remember one time I was on the porch swing with my dad having one of our MANY talks. This particular conversation was about relationships. He said ‘Sis when you start a relationship it’s like planting a tree. For every nice thing that you do for each other or say to each other you put a blossom on that tree. In time storms will come and blow some of those blossoms away but how many are left after the storm is over depends on you and how many that you have put on the tree by what you have done for each other. And if there are always more blossoms left than there are that blew away then you are doing things right and your relationship will always flourish. But always remember to put God in the middle and just like He nourishes the trees to grow – He will also nourish your relationship.’

I see all these relationships today among friends, read about ones that involve celebrities and royalty. I watch movies about couples who live happily ever after. But to me the greatest love story and my most favorite is about a man named Kenny and a woman named Linda who met on a blind date (a hillbilly and a Yankee) married 6 months later and lived a life together for 45 years in a marriage that will forever be the kind of love that will always be the perfect example to me of what “true love” really is.

Happy Anniversary Mom and Dad – I know that she is looking up and thinking of you today Dad and I know that he is looking down and loving you more today than ever Mom.

Thank you for the example that you set – for the love that you had and for the inspiration that you gave us.