Monday, June 16, 2014

Remembering Marion Brown, by his daughter, Cindy B. Stepp

On this Father's Day, our cousin, Cindy Stepp, shared this about her father, my Uncle Marion Brown.


       Miss my Dad so much! He was so special to us. He was a very strong man who was always looking out for his family. He loved us and we always knew that. Family was so important to my Dad....he would always tell us that family is everything! He did not have it easy growing up....losing both parents by the age of 3. His grandparents raised him giving him the best they could. He was thankful to have them. He learned at a very young age that life is not easy and many times does not seem fair. 

     He took care of my Mom during her sickness never wavering to get her better. He became both Dad and Mom to us when she completed her journey here on Earth. He was determined to keep our lives as normal as possible. I watched him as he missed her so much but kept pushing on for us. 

     He encouraged us all the time to set our goals high and strive to reach them....walking every step of the way with us. He loved his grandchildren so much and was always involved in what they were doing. He was so proud of them! During his sickness he fought so hard. We took care of him every day staying by his side. 

     We looked up to him as children and still do...He will always be in our heart! Love & Miss my Dad every day! We will see each other again and what a special time that will be! 

     Shared in love,
                       Cindy 
           












Sunday, June 15, 2014

Remembering my Dad on Fathers Day

My Dad, Douglas C. Evans, Sr., who went to Heaven in November, 1976.  He had lung cancer and only lived 75 days from the day he was diagnosed until the day he died.  My Mom, my brothers, my husband, and I took turns staying at the hospital day and night so that he wouldn't be alone, and so we could be with him every minute that we could.

The last thing Dad and I said to each other at the hospital that night when he died  was me asking him if I could get him anything, and he told me that he had all he needed.  I had no way of knowing that just a few minutes later, he would draw his last breath and would be gone from me.  I tried to tell him that I loved him, but his soul had already gone to be with the Lord.  Being with him when he dried was  the best and the hardest thing I ever did.  

Even today, almost 38 years later, I so miss his easy smile and his dry sense of humor.  And I often long to just be his little girl again.  I realize now that I took that SO for granted when he was alive!  It embarrassed me to have him pull out my 2nd grade school photo and show it to his friends - especially when I was 18!  I never understood that he did it because it was his way of saying he loved me.

Dad's influence on us continues on.  Just the other day, my husband made reference to him while we were working on the rebuilding of our deck.  Dad was a craftsman, precise and correct in everything he did.  He was intelligent and a very good problem solver.  He did his best in every thing he did, and expected that from us kids, too!  I didn't understand then that he was preparing us to succeed in the real world.

Dad lives on in our memories and in our hearts.  Just wish I had had more time with him and that he could have known us, his kids, as adults - after we had obtained some degree of sense!

The broken heart and sorrow we feel is a tribute to the relationship we had with the one that has died.  The emptiness we feel in their passing from here makes Heaven more real.  Sometimes the hardest thing about the death of a loved one or a friend is to realize that the sun comes up tomorrow, and life goes on.  We never stop missing them; we always remember them; and on those days when we can touch their memory, those memories are precious and comforting.

On this Father's Day weekend, I remember my Dad.  I miss my Dad.  I still love my Dad.

                            Chris









Friday, June 13, 2014

Thoughts on Fathers shared by Cousin Lu Stafford

     Our cousin, Lu Stafford, shared the following with us a few years ago.  Her thoughts on her own father are touching and a great reminder to us all!  Chris 





     Father's Day. Not a day of much celebration, can't hold a candle to Mother's Day. That's probably because our Dad's were laid back, just always there without a whole lot to say. 

     My parents were divorced when I was 17, so I have to make my memories of my Dad before that time. He was a giant of a man, but as gentle and tender as a teddy bear. He was easy to manipulate to get your way when Mom wasn't home. She was the disciplinarian. She worked the opposite shift of my Dad, leaving us with him in the evening. I was very good about rushing in from school and getting my homework finished just in case I'd have a chance to socialize in the evening. Believe me, I had plenty of chores to do but the one I hated most was dinner dishes. I'd rather go out with my friends for an hour or two. I would beg, whine, wheedle, and just not shut up, begging my Dad to do the dishes. He would be reading his paper and never look up. If he ever looked up over the newspaper and said in a very sweet voice, "I'm going to trade  you in for a yellow dog and SHOOT the dog", I knew the conversation was over and I got the dishes done in a hurry. Every now and then he would feel sorry for me and let me out of the dishes. 

     He worked hard, was a good provider, and I never saw him lose his temper. After he retired he moved to Louisville and looked after his Mother. His sister-in-law credits him for being the reason Grandma lived to be 91. He saw to it that she had meals and medicine, but didn't do the same for himself. It was as if his life was over without my Mother. I think it hurt him to see my brother or me, but we made the effort and went to Louisville every chance we got. 

     He didn't preach a work ethic, he led by example. His sweet and gentle side came out in both of us. He backed my Mother up even if she was wrong. If we were too sick to go to school or church, we were too sick to do fun things. 

     He never made a lot of conversation, but we knew he was always there, and as long as he was there, we were safe. 

     He never took care of himself healthwise, died at 74 of things that could've been prevented had he followed doctors orders, but he always made sure we were taken to a doctor and followed the orders of our doctor. 

     If you can say a person was just a good human being, a gentle, loving guy that instilled values into you that you have to this day, then that describes my Dad, James Baker. 


     Share in love, Lu Baker Stafford