I thought of you today, but that is nothing new. I thought about you yesterday,
and days before that too. I think of you in silence, I often speak your name.
All I have are memories and a picture in a frame. Your memory is a keepsake, from which I'll never part. God has you in his arms. I have you in my heart.
Posted on 08/20/2011 01:33 PM
0 Comments Elizabeth's Graduation
Happy Kindergarten graduation to Elizabeth!
Posted on 06/11/2010 12:59 PM
0 Comments In Memory of my Sister Sharon
Her Birthday is May 22nd. This month is deciated to her.
I love and miss her so much!
Posted on 05/09/2010 02:40 PM
0 Comments Our sweet Elizabeth celebrates her 6th bday
Elizabeth's brithday weekend.
Posted on 04/16/2010 09:47 AM
0 Comments In Memory of Fess Parker
IN MEMORY OF FESS ELISHA PARKER, JR.
Fess Parker was one of the nicest men I ever met. He was such a gentleman so polite
and down to earth. I first met him when I was working at the Santa Barbara
Medical Clinic in the optical dept in the early 1970's. He would come in and
bring several pairs of glasses that he wanted adjusted. He was so sweet and
joked a lot. We started this whole imaginary scene that ran for several years
after he told me in his Davy Crocket voice that I reminded him of his wife
Polly. "Same red hair and all". Each time he came in he would go into character
and would ask how Polly was feeling today.
I remember one day a girl in the lab dept was trying to make arrangements for her wedding and he overheard
her on the phone checking out venues. He then offered the backyard of his home
for her reception. What a sweet thing and thoughtful thing to do. She was so
excited and could just not believe the offer. Then several years later after I
had come back from living in San Francisco we met again at the law firm where I
was a receptionist. "Why Polly It's been too long since I've seen you". I was
amazed that he even remembered me! So we would talk and pass a little time until
his attorney would come. Often I would bring him coffee and escort him to one of
the conference rooms. I finally got up the courage to ask him if he would give
me his autograph for my father. "Why sure Polly", he said. I had brought a piece of paper and a pen, but he didn’t seem to need it. He reached down into
his briefcase and lifted out his picture as Davy Crockett and asked what my
dad's name was and wrote it to him. My Dad kept it in the living room I think. I will never forget his kindness and compassion.