tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-55744963834554141602024-03-05T02:15:29.721-08:00P.S. I Love You Mom!jodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12789523249316936905noreply@blogger.comBlogger13125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574496383455414160.post-64662118513649274112013-07-28T13:51:00.002-07:002013-07-28T14:01:34.640-07:00Sibling love<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZIatfPMcsgxj5kIemM-fqf3V6uNSkBa-WDfQPK1H2xypobHWkIslfuWaZhOi7s6Jj4JytZuzgg9-Kin7UBjQmQWar-xUZXve0E06ShMgTymRYmiDleqMHXgEbhtRNEAC8axTUAT8mlMA/s1600/Margaret+Bill+&+Mom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="528" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZIatfPMcsgxj5kIemM-fqf3V6uNSkBa-WDfQPK1H2xypobHWkIslfuWaZhOi7s6Jj4JytZuzgg9-Kin7UBjQmQWar-xUZXve0E06ShMgTymRYmiDleqMHXgEbhtRNEAC8axTUAT8mlMA/s640/Margaret+Bill+&+Mom.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Margaret, Bill and Pat</b></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>On March 8, 1998 Uncle Bill wrote "Dear Judy, Jody, Jerry and Jana,</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Just a few thought and notes from Uncle Bill. Pat wrote in my 1934 Lincoln High School annual:</b></span><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Dearest Bill;</b></span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Just a word of kindly advice from one who knows and sure dish it out, you ought to known. Always remember to be a "good guy" and don't quit. Tell everybody you're good, in fact, you're better than they are and pretty soon they'll either believe it or push you in the face. I hope you'll always love to eat, cuz then we'll get along. Don't forget all the things I've told you and look out for "Wine, Women and so forth." Maybe if you'd study instead of playing around so much you'll graduate with me yet. I hope so. Thanks for all your kindly advice, that I get so often, and let's hope we'll always be near enough to each other to say "Hi Pal." Your Pal and Sister "Pat"</b></span></i><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUSq6vbJVeaAJDQ9zame0XiBHwwHkkP191rBpCYvu6mP65srEzOLT_59GTGrpbCuLsLNNQiIYa7uMktmGiP-_fJgfj9zL_nMDaQR0_Tfz1Vz2PcRZAvHlpqDSHivGtGt6w7mC0ZHrwZwY/s1600/Mom+Bill+Margaret+july+1978.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUSq6vbJVeaAJDQ9zame0XiBHwwHkkP191rBpCYvu6mP65srEzOLT_59GTGrpbCuLsLNNQiIYa7uMktmGiP-_fJgfj9zL_nMDaQR0_Tfz1Vz2PcRZAvHlpqDSHivGtGt6w7mC0ZHrwZwY/s640/Mom+Bill+Margaret+july+1978.jpg" width="436" /> </a></div>
<b><span style="font-size: large;">Pat would sit in front of me in Geometry class and that way I could sleep. Then she would help me with the lessons that night. She still graduated a year a head of me and she is almost two years younger than I am. Smart Sister! When we moved to Newport, Oregon she took a post graduate course so she could help pick out the right "date" and I would help her pick out the "good guys." That way we would double date a lot. We also did a lot of plays together. She would instigate them and then rope me into helping her. We had a lot of fun together and were real close. Thanks to her help I turned out all right."</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">I love that you Mother, Margaret and Bill were very close and good friends. You all bonded early when your Mother died when you were just 11 years old, in 1928. Margaret was 14 and took care of you.</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Seeing these pictures today makes me miss all of you but especially you Mom.</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">jody</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">ps I love you! </span></b></div>
<b><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></b>jodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12789523249316936905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574496383455414160.post-13670209874328610742013-06-30T20:46:00.000-07:002013-07-03T21:08:04.310-07:00Mothers Wisdom<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgejKPSAmm7T4pOp_w4zXQfxk1Z-GWXBuVaYHn9lrlRAAD6CIAOzXE92KTM2Q9uLnhJGFF4b65yOCO82tQ-jyLalxol6-4wJE-8tthX5nrnapcZKspmIVtbtO31afcYpskk5T5u_M_XN0k/s592/mom+&+Trouta+1979.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgejKPSAmm7T4pOp_w4zXQfxk1Z-GWXBuVaYHn9lrlRAAD6CIAOzXE92KTM2Q9uLnhJGFF4b65yOCO82tQ-jyLalxol6-4wJE-8tthX5nrnapcZKspmIVtbtO31afcYpskk5T5u_M_XN0k/s640/mom+&+Trouta+1979.jpg" width="560" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Look how cute you are cooking </span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;">with Trouta the cat watching you. </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">I have a few things that I say that make me think of you Mom. I can hear you say "<i>just walk real fast and swing your arms</i>." You would tell me that when I had a run in my hose or got something on the front of my shirt. It took me a while to figure out how silly I would look, but it was excellent advice.</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Every time I tell my dogs that they are "<i>bad characters</i>" I'm pretty sure you use to use that phrase with our pets, especially the bad character dachsunds. </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">I can hear you say, "<i>I need a drink.</i>" I know you loved martinis. It makes it sound like you were an alcoholic but you weren't but I like to say that too when I need a Diet Coke or a Dr Pepper Ten.</span></b></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih2Bytho4s4SIa7aG47gq4JFXuYsOV3QQx3V_9afPVU0YIQJPXJHyQsL-77qtVv5dHmbTSBYud2McZrdK6eCo9tLo854FJTIfafqtInnDixVVbr_7B5CKKoHhIYe0Aqm_BkfpRK2dALxg/s275/chugach+4.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih2Bytho4s4SIa7aG47gq4JFXuYsOV3QQx3V_9afPVU0YIQJPXJHyQsL-77qtVv5dHmbTSBYud2McZrdK6eCo9tLo854FJTIfafqtInnDixVVbr_7B5CKKoHhIYe0Aqm_BkfpRK2dALxg/s640/chugach+4.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>This is kind of the view that we had of the moutains.</b></span> </td></tr>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">You loved to talk about the beautiful Chugach Mountains that we had such a view of. In the fall the hot topic was the "termination dust," the snow, coming down the mountains. It was an everyday conversation. </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">I like to talk about clouds. </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">I miss you. </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">jody</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">P.S. I love you Mom</span></b></div>
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<br />jodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12789523249316936905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574496383455414160.post-36354047252885054102013-06-27T13:56:00.002-07:002013-06-27T13:56:24.969-07:00Christmas not so fun tradition<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDW8ZEuahSwimD8YMq4yc3uGKf2lZ7rU-7ojDLQOutCkm-1w1Tt2jKOjGM4JWIGQoB-gR0QS_VTSDhJb4k35YodvFLJ8fYWj7dAgYCI5hAl3tFP78x227lvu0b-U0WFXvPB6doDU_f8Iw/s1600/christmas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="392" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDW8ZEuahSwimD8YMq4yc3uGKf2lZ7rU-7ojDLQOutCkm-1w1Tt2jKOjGM4JWIGQoB-gR0QS_VTSDhJb4k35YodvFLJ8fYWj7dAgYCI5hAl3tFP78x227lvu0b-U0WFXvPB6doDU_f8Iw/s400/christmas.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Christmas 1957 or 1958</b></td></tr>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Oh, I remember that I always wanted to have the tree and decorations up way earlier than we ever got to have them up. Maybe that is why I start so early and decorate everything! </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">We could get up early and see what Santa brought us but it was forever before we got to open gifts. </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">We had to have breakfast, sit at a very nicely set table that had a little gift by our plates. </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Then DO THE DISHES, then GET DRESSED. </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;"> As you can see we were dressed in real clothes and Mother you had on a perfect outfit. </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;"> I bet it was afternoon before we could open gifts. I just remember it being a killer waiting. </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;"> I quickly axed those tradition, feel lucky Schofield children and grandchildren. </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">jody</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">P.S. I love you Mom!</span></b></div>
jodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12789523249316936905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574496383455414160.post-21637883564256662792013-06-26T18:20:00.001-07:002013-06-26T18:20:46.728-07:00<div style="text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiPRKxgD5Z0efRiY_T-KGSznP6u8e1LnceDdeIWIzyW_4PEPQ6xbSBKH-MI6ZiZ_r1b25xBoh6Nxpk7xoU73FmB1AtKCCk7WONcXxQWaouB_gI5NHorp1_nBLAU-Nx6A45AyHyS5VDu9k/s1600/Mom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiPRKxgD5Z0efRiY_T-KGSznP6u8e1LnceDdeIWIzyW_4PEPQ6xbSBKH-MI6ZiZ_r1b25xBoh6Nxpk7xoU73FmB1AtKCCk7WONcXxQWaouB_gI5NHorp1_nBLAU-Nx6A45AyHyS5VDu9k/s320/Mom.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>I think Mother you were a woman before your times. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>When my friends Moms were home you were a career woman with a lot of style. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>It was always a treat for you to come to school which wasn't very often. I think I was in the 5th grade and you came to visit the school. I can remember being so happy that my Mother was at school. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>You had a long patent leather purse with different colored pockets on the outside. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>My friends thought the purse was so cool </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>therefor you were cool.</b></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXFAFlbhyphenhyphenS0uBSvGog8WKhr5IOqQUEwjnJpMiXbMuUlVDFVUNmYkfLj8yoBbtNfKJXW3-RFYvsBDhNeQroXLltDxA4R2mGGnQvMfoWJ3QZaO0twUq-tcnjFxxm1G5_RSRsQlaO5AIUEe0/s1600/jody+bike.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="302" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXFAFlbhyphenhyphenS0uBSvGog8WKhr5IOqQUEwjnJpMiXbMuUlVDFVUNmYkfLj8yoBbtNfKJXW3-RFYvsBDhNeQroXLltDxA4R2mGGnQvMfoWJ3QZaO0twUq-tcnjFxxm1G5_RSRsQlaO5AIUEe0/s320/jody+bike.jpg" width="320" /></a><b><span style="font-size: large;">We didn't live very far from the school so I would walk home for lunch. Sometimes I would get to ride my bike that I shared with Jana. Since you were working you would have my lunch ready in the refrigerator. Usually, bean with bacon sandwich, since I loved that soup. But what I liked best was that you would have a note on a little tooth pick flag. </span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>jody</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>P.S. I love you Mom! </b></span></div>
jodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12789523249316936905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574496383455414160.post-6628980545396912922013-06-25T15:58:00.000-07:002013-06-25T19:24:50.095-07:00A Tuna?<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAHmzRFth2Zf_e9yMX7myokEXUN9xgPMGOUrkYpQDR2_dCo4H4HlkdCJKYCtyrbdvihJU3OWz7yQTGFiQtwrTALZGJem2-Ou5TTRTtS4nObtxIeTDP-axvqUHzR4PxtCfJJxxU2dnw2jo/s1600/tuna+club+1933+16+yrs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="282" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAHmzRFth2Zf_e9yMX7myokEXUN9xgPMGOUrkYpQDR2_dCo4H4HlkdCJKYCtyrbdvihJU3OWz7yQTGFiQtwrTALZGJem2-Ou5TTRTtS4nObtxIeTDP-axvqUHzR4PxtCfJJxxU2dnw2jo/s640/tuna+club+1933+16+yrs.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Tuna Club 1933 (16 years old)</span></b></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>"Disproving the old tradition that few sailors know how to swim, a Tuna Club was formed among the girl-seaman of the <i>Lincoln High</i> in 1933. The cardinal purpose is to aid girls in becoming more proficient swimmers, divers, and life-savers, thus producing better material for student leaders and directors, and furthering interest in this sport. The Minnows, a branch of the club, enables new mermaid s to obtain practice in swimming 6 lengths of the girls tank, in executing 3 dives satisfactorily, and in demonstrating 3 standard strokes. All these are requirements for the Tuna Club membership."</b></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>You were a wonderful swimmer and diver. Since our house was 100 feet up the hill from<i> the Spa,</i> an indoor swimming pool, we learned to swim early and spent many many hours at the pool. I remember that you were a life guard and a swim teacher. I always wanted to dive like you, a beautiful pointed toe swan dive, but I just never got it.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b> Remember walking up the hill in the winter and our hair would freeze? </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>I have lots of happy memories of swimming at the Spa,</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b> swim team and even being a swim teacher </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>for my 7th grade P E class. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b> I must of got my love of the water from you, you Tuna!</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>jody</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>p.s. I love you Mom!</b></span></div>
<br />jodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12789523249316936905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574496383455414160.post-8208943389289183762013-06-21T10:15:00.000-07:002013-06-21T10:18:16.364-07:00Such Class<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>You were basically a single parent. Dad was gone and working out of town most of my growing up years. I'm sure it was hard. I don't remember you complaining. When Dad came home the sun rose and set on him. We had to hurry and scurry around to make the house perfect. He was our world. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b> What I mostly remember was that you never talked bad about Dad.</b> <b> Even when you might of had a right to. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b> I so respect you for that. He was our Dad.</b> </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUCSCkMeyLvCaNdh0gCYwny8QzwrETUWbODO5-dOdfEfucv-fherXueh7Uw4Atf8MCr0QEA4zgZrBXTBQ2NN6FD-d0T9HTcLlNVXnRDiRyXgoPod9x85bftAUZZBi5sMge_mv6zFQuV08/s1600/dad+ash+jessica+mom+1986.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUCSCkMeyLvCaNdh0gCYwny8QzwrETUWbODO5-dOdfEfucv-fherXueh7Uw4Atf8MCr0QEA4zgZrBXTBQ2NN6FD-d0T9HTcLlNVXnRDiRyXgoPod9x85bftAUZZBi5sMge_mv6zFQuV08/s400/dad+ash+jessica+mom+1986.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>1986 Dad, Ashley 9, Jessica 11, Mom</b></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Dane and I brought Aaron 12, Ashley 9, and Ethan 6 to Alaska in 1986. Dad was visiting Jerry and Jessica 11, was in Anchorage with Jerry for a visit. I can remember being so please that you and Dad were together for a visit and this was after both of you had been remarried for 15+ years.</b></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6WDcr-FZJ8Oxe3frU4ZDV8d3OmFM_V16FwWmILANtXrQpY6N_b1Q0MGGYx3L_WUspym1T8YqKQyme9afw_lYNGEhKCwaZ264cVltCw1uV_lJQBtTzSIsgKM06Ys8AmsQ8RPYlNbqJYyE/s1600/ashley+&+jessica+july+1986.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6WDcr-FZJ8Oxe3frU4ZDV8d3OmFM_V16FwWmILANtXrQpY6N_b1Q0MGGYx3L_WUspym1T8YqKQyme9afw_lYNGEhKCwaZ264cVltCw1uV_lJQBtTzSIsgKM06Ys8AmsQ8RPYlNbqJYyE/s400/ashley+&+jessica+july+1986.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Cousins</b></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">During that visit you took Ashley and Jessica to the store and bought them purple nail polish. Ashley remembers it as her first purple nail polish, but not the last. I see you in Ashley. She has your style, your flash, your class.</span></b><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkZAyD9fUOYgJYaixhq5N01bkMuUlkLx87G7Y_j15kFrXuH8SxFZo9w9_lJYfylZWtDzSwkwvxv5SRSiMVwFcu3ANGYvqr8wsVw1FWNJApxAvqMFULU73LiEivpPduYpictg3PDOeWt9w/s1600/July+1986.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkZAyD9fUOYgJYaixhq5N01bkMuUlkLx87G7Y_j15kFrXuH8SxFZo9w9_lJYfylZWtDzSwkwvxv5SRSiMVwFcu3ANGYvqr8wsVw1FWNJApxAvqMFULU73LiEivpPduYpictg3PDOeWt9w/s400/July+1986.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>1986 Mt Aleyska Aaron, Ethan, Jessica, Ashley, Mom (Gramma Pat)</b></td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">jody</span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">P.S. I love you Mom!</span></b></div>
jodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12789523249316936905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574496383455414160.post-75664078461252153112013-06-20T20:19:00.000-07:002014-02-16T21:04:22.147-08:00Travel Love<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Mother, you opened up the world to me. Your love of travel was passed onto all of us. I know that you were able to touch all continents and travel around the world several times. When you went to work for Air France you were able to open up travel for all of us. </b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcR6tF3TUPUJRaCnqdIN616aZplMIYI_CIQIdL35S1QZkAR5BUH7Jr3Pod2rsqpetYlKS2xy5AehH4i_OHDNC9lq8t95tH74HPghSmN3mtCDKXUZkVNBR96ef3X415rqX3d2yOnHcEjNc/s1600/mom+air+france.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcR6tF3TUPUJRaCnqdIN616aZplMIYI_CIQIdL35S1QZkAR5BUH7Jr3Pod2rsqpetYlKS2xy5AehH4i_OHDNC9lq8t95tH74HPghSmN3mtCDKXUZkVNBR96ef3X415rqX3d2yOnHcEjNc/s400/mom+air+france.jpg" height="318" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>I have wonderful memories of the first time you took Judy, Jana and I to Paris. I think I was 12 years old. We stayed with your Air France captains family right in Paris. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>One night after Jana and I went to bed</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b> you and Judy went out for french onion soup and we weren't very happy that we didn't get to go.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>The trip to the Louve </b><b>took forever. You and Judy looked and pondered each and every picture and statue. Maybe that is where you got your love of art, theater and fine dining. That was one of many trips to Paris.</b></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Yellowstone Park 1987</b></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Trips to Hawaii were wonderful, climbing the ruins in Mexico with Vince sitting down on each step coming down, the market place in Jedah, Saudi Arabia, the beautiful blue water in Beirut, Lebanon, watching Old Faithful in Yellowstone National Park and<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTKPENmrMePR93c2NxKcVSsTXCYFCV4Q6bAF1CZZYTGYrBWgZdBJWEHXYiOvYQ3nJubzFneKLOY4Db1QGFACrymUUTL9YCq-_yUoxydbREyPA-0tcY3lK4o19_hkBesF3W7wXC2EgYy-Q/s1600/8-1974+Columbia+glacier+on+board+the+Tustamena.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTKPENmrMePR93c2NxKcVSsTXCYFCV4Q6bAF1CZZYTGYrBWgZdBJWEHXYiOvYQ3nJubzFneKLOY4Db1QGFACrymUUTL9YCq-_yUoxydbREyPA-0tcY3lK4o19_hkBesF3W7wXC2EgYy-Q/s320/8-1974+Columbia+glacier+on+board+the+Tustamena.jpg" height="246" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>1974 Columbia Glacier</b></td></tr>
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more.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Thanks for sharing the world with me.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>jody</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>p.s. I love you Mom! </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>p.s.s <span style="font-size: small;">Ethan reminded me that probably not the high light of the trip but the people that we stayed with in Paris had a biday. I had never seen one or new what they were used for. I thought it was a strange toilet and they never said anything about the "wash closet" down the hall. We all took naps after arriving and I woke up and used the bidet as the toilet. whoops! I bet you were so embarrassed. I think it is my most embarrassing moment. Ha</span> </b></span></div>
jodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12789523249316936905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574496383455414160.post-18400234791657650582013-06-20T20:11:00.000-07:002013-06-25T14:44:36.291-07:00Purple Love<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>When did you start to love purple? </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b> We could buy you anything purple or a shade of it and you would love it. Atleast you always acted like you did. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>You looked great in purple. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b> Every few years you bought a new car and a winter coat to match. No purple car but a purple coat. Coats? I always loved your mink coat. Dane loved to put his arms around you when you wore that coat so he could pet it.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b> I think when I was little you liked terquoise. Our walls in our house were terquoise. Maybe that was a little much.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Alaska Fireweeed was another of your favorite colors. You looked great in fuschia.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>You have such style. Always looking your very best. Always an outfit with matching jewelry. You liked to wear lots of braclets. I think of you each morning as I pick out which braclet I want to wear. You never wore jeans.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>One time when you came to Montana you brought your jewelry in little bags. All neatly arrainged, with all the earrings, pins, braclets to go with each days outfits. Ashley and I would lay on the bed and look and touch and try on your jewelry. However, you would only let me wear your pearls, from Dad for only a few minutes. Ashley would tell Aaron and Ethan that they weren't allowed to even come into the room because it was girls only. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Your closet was organized by blouses, suits, slacks, and dresses. Then you would organize it by color. I think I learned the color organization from you. Once when you and Dad went to Mexico on a trip I missed you like crazy. I would sit in your closet, it had your smell.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>jody</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>P.S. I Love you Mom!</b></span></div>
jodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12789523249316936905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574496383455414160.post-4352693719740238432013-06-20T19:56:00.000-07:002013-06-21T10:19:30.392-07:00The Favorite Son<div style="text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-0c-zJrd3F4yvS5yFim3Al2M3ROqZO6VPbKj-F6hsCbMsCTbROQyZZvnV2QbYg-0_m-qJUfWg_YoyKD-GF6AoJaW0ypcfFsC7Q4Gy8_CQ1p0TFs24rmj-rtmCog3ImDEB2PquQKRG4Z8/s1600/jerry+and+mom+1978.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="345" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-0c-zJrd3F4yvS5yFim3Al2M3ROqZO6VPbKj-F6hsCbMsCTbROQyZZvnV2QbYg-0_m-qJUfWg_YoyKD-GF6AoJaW0ypcfFsC7Q4Gy8_CQ1p0TFs24rmj-rtmCog3ImDEB2PquQKRG4Z8/s400/jerry+and+mom+1978.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>1978</b></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUsyoAjfEq_ITxuzT8LFfmUVgMd7NHFiC91dJgFTb84oLFRaydZON0H5GF49EhZJg0jrgFNBA9cCSsUTdKp3fZozjNGXFdywZ5c-DACqRzfs5lKJd7DooQt1QQxOop-KWknk90gnE_Kps/s1600/jerry+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUsyoAjfEq_ITxuzT8LFfmUVgMd7NHFiC91dJgFTb84oLFRaydZON0H5GF49EhZJg0jrgFNBA9cCSsUTdKp3fZozjNGXFdywZ5c-DACqRzfs5lKJd7DooQt1QQxOop-KWknk90gnE_Kps/s320/jerry+2.jpg" width="234" /></a><b><span style="font-size: large;">I don't know if Mother told me this story or I was present but this is what I recall.</span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;"> Jerry told Mother that he didn't believe in God. Mother came unglued. "How dare you say that. As a pilot you fly and see the beautiful creations in the world. The beautiful sky, the sunsets, the mountains..." Jerry listened then said,</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">"yeah I guess you are right." </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">end on conversation.</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">March 7, 1998</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">"Jody and family: I just heard about Mom, it hasn't hit me yet that she's gone. She has always been a big part of who I am. It's like losing a leg but still feeling the toes. She was my best teacher, best friend, and adviser. Even after I left home I have constantly conducted my life for her approval. ... See you soon, much love, Jerry"</span></i></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">How could he not be the favorite son?</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">jody</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">P.S. I love you, Mom!</span></b></div>
jodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12789523249316936905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574496383455414160.post-53005014346316831422013-06-19T17:56:00.001-07:002013-06-21T09:37:00.198-07:00We don't look anything a like <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHrpnt8ymDDaqBA8mHdp-jvU1-bXSyLNz2ZXhy-i9_xHWLgQC8rTEf0sGMvEAURDc8LNY7h94Xp4hfaE-f83C1D8aJWMR57Ts5W73oSlTs0172f8r7KWQkF7NsNwr4BW7DIywx17t3EzM/s1600/Jody+and+Mom+1982+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHrpnt8ymDDaqBA8mHdp-jvU1-bXSyLNz2ZXhy-i9_xHWLgQC8rTEf0sGMvEAURDc8LNY7h94Xp4hfaE-f83C1D8aJWMR57Ts5W73oSlTs0172f8r7KWQkF7NsNwr4BW7DIywx17t3EzM/s320/Jody+and+Mom+1982+2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;">1982 jody 31, Mother 65</span></b></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Are you sure you are my Mother? </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b> We don't look anything alike. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b> You are a winter and I am a fall. You have pink skin, very light complected and I have tons of freckels. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b> You sunburn and I tan. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>You have brown eyes and mine are blue. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Your hair is black and I had auburn hair. <span style="font-size: x-small;">(not sure what color it is now)</span> </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>I'm much taller than you. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Where did I come from? </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>You are the party, the light in the room, the flash, the glitter, the gold lame. You love being the center of attention, not me I am happy to sit in the back and wear cute shoes. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>I have your skunk streak.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>I am yours!</b></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">jody</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">p.s. I love you Mom!</span></b></div>
jodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12789523249316936905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574496383455414160.post-64988389056479464292013-06-18T17:55:00.002-07:002013-06-25T19:13:29.370-07:00Service was your middle name<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">You taught me about "Service" and how to serve by your example. How to give of your time, and how to loose yourself in service to others. I know that when you are in the service of others you are in the service of your God. You gave of your time to many organizations. </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">You were my Girl Scout leader. </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;"> I remember every Saturday before Easter we would help with the Easter Seal Campaign for the Alaska Cripple Children's Association.</span> <span style="font-size: large;"> We would stand out in front of the grocery store with a donation bucket and hand out paper red poppies. I can see you counting all the money that was collected.</span></b></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSUjjC4fZ1JsxcVA5vM9HsWqPiZubBRDOI42V7RzAbAGtGp3X-DK4TIDb38pnZqjbuFSWBzCd2O1-ZMjjYFhkjhGENmHMVHOrVFS3jW7ZbFwovT71-qyhIiXIJwYaabzHo4ahC8_dYWKg/s1600/Vince+Oscar+Nov+1979.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSUjjC4fZ1JsxcVA5vM9HsWqPiZubBRDOI42V7RzAbAGtGp3X-DK4TIDb38pnZqjbuFSWBzCd2O1-ZMjjYFhkjhGENmHMVHOrVFS3jW7ZbFwovT71-qyhIiXIJwYaabzHo4ahC8_dYWKg/s320/Vince+Oscar+Nov+1979.jpg" width="312" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Vince & Oscar 1979</b></td></tr>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">You gave of your time to the Alaska Society to the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals</span>. <span style="font-size: large;"> I think you must of really like animals because you always let us keep the cat or dog that we brought home. Jana brought home our first wiener dog Sturmish and we got to keep him. Marc and Greg brought home Oscar and I brought home our cat Trouta. Good job Mom for letting us keep these pets!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLwfISu9ynKjQUw79VMcBboajOyOV_aTHsTWLShEFk3L7a3w9y6EieEHOj3yxq2-og4LUuj2iEhT8kPXYm2kutKA0scKkHb2UtCgpyDtvVOeal5xfpqry8RVc-9daJInqTF6oCsUlwklA/s1600/1975+Order+of+the+Rose.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLwfISu9ynKjQUw79VMcBboajOyOV_aTHsTWLShEFk3L7a3w9y6EieEHOj3yxq2-og4LUuj2iEhT8kPXYm2kutKA0scKkHb2UtCgpyDtvVOeal5xfpqry8RVc-9daJInqTF6oCsUlwklA/s320/1975+Order+of+the+Rose.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>"Order of the Rose" 1975</b></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj42osD4IgWAvfgHwZENVtUtZ2jPw-nNvJa8Nbo-CUYlHZsScjbMjbKu7IfRvttv6gJku5X3xHPLWo9XfFbbbxkbGQUG7-Leei8oyoEDA-78syajLPK3pOu9Uh2tUArx8PK-wJ6WuW9B5A/s1600/Mom+and+Vince.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj42osD4IgWAvfgHwZENVtUtZ2jPw-nNvJa8Nbo-CUYlHZsScjbMjbKu7IfRvttv6gJku5X3xHPLWo9XfFbbbxkbGQUG7-Leei8oyoEDA-78syajLPK3pOu9Uh2tUArx8PK-wJ6WuW9B5A/s320/Mom+and+Vince.jpg" width="216" /></a><b><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">You loved your association with Beta Sigma Phi and the service that they gave to others. I can see you now in a long formal getting ready to go to a formal dance and you being named the "Sweet Heart" or the new President. </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv2JY1D66p-ESYnoIop4C9S7ydVY05QYeabraT2yK7mOPsAKrT7BdsXoKqxhzCCuGF4vBLJHSMR14R8f9xOIU_MRd4ZuFRFY_F_Ed-iod6jcDPofl0SUffkYs99PbXo-1Yzit8Ui1Kkdk/s1600/jody+Mom+jana+checked+dress.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv2JY1D66p-ESYnoIop4C9S7ydVY05QYeabraT2yK7mOPsAKrT7BdsXoKqxhzCCuGF4vBLJHSMR14R8f9xOIU_MRd4ZuFRFY_F_Ed-iod6jcDPofl0SUffkYs99PbXo-1Yzit8Ui1Kkdk/s400/jody+Mom+jana+checked+dress.jpg" width="235" /></a></span></b></div>
<b><span style="font-size: large;">I have fond memories of going to the Mother Daughter fashion show. One year I was probably about 10 years old you made yourself, Jana and I spring color matching gingham dresses. We got to model our dresses in the fashion show. I always wanted to go with you and bring my daughter.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;">I also remember one time you made a huge sprimp salad for a function and dropped it and the huge bowl broke. I don't think we scooped it up but we should of.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;">jody</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;">p.s. I love you Mom! </span></b><br />
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jodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12789523249316936905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574496383455414160.post-58792095912691556092013-06-18T16:02:00.000-07:002013-06-18T16:02:32.032-07:00I'm Your Favorite<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYN2DX6xGSjCqRnGHmOeOoJSOdkgXVK4IRHb5W7QXlm7zRDi0Ql1RNAxvkWN196w1oo9GQN_Zuxmbqp6-p5ZFwvSInR8R-fU11xEA0zJhwJhrgCgH_jZ5bRQQ_1vQJwzP4Fbbzdj9cuoI/s1600/jody+easter+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYN2DX6xGSjCqRnGHmOeOoJSOdkgXVK4IRHb5W7QXlm7zRDi0Ql1RNAxvkWN196w1oo9GQN_Zuxmbqp6-p5ZFwvSInR8R-fU11xEA0zJhwJhrgCgH_jZ5bRQQ_1vQJwzP4Fbbzdj9cuoI/s320/jody+easter+2.jpg" width="222" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">You just always made me feel important. What I was saying or doing you were interested. I think you were happy with the way I turned out and the choices that I have made in my life.</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;"> I know that you love me.</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;"> (I'm sure Judy, Jerry and Jana feel the same way.) </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">jody</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">p.s. I love you Mom</span></b></div>
jodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12789523249316936905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5574496383455414160.post-57316145880026406902013-06-18T15:26:00.002-07:002013-06-21T09:32:28.594-07:00<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Today would of been your 96th birthday! </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b> Well on the 9th of June. Your birth certificate says that you were born June 6, l917 in Puyallup, Washington. We always celebrated your birthday on the 9th. I wonder why, maybe something mysterious. As I look at your birth certificate I see that your father, </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUT5V6eTi5dOAzxjEkTIJhVsjWuRrDRUH4MI4vqMp7A0ZuFK5rk6mYkPZq6urnefFSkdwmWfZ7Ua9BssJ5GQSFFQzrOcVoBgFpOS5cIS9yx3wT_GfTW4xqmjMvSfzRnGWO_ms0ggHmxj8/s1600/mothers+parents.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUT5V6eTi5dOAzxjEkTIJhVsjWuRrDRUH4MI4vqMp7A0ZuFK5rk6mYkPZq6urnefFSkdwmWfZ7Ua9BssJ5GQSFFQzrOcVoBgFpOS5cIS9yx3wT_GfTW4xqmjMvSfzRnGWO_ms0ggHmxj8/s320/mothers+parents.jpg" width="320" /></a></b></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>W.E. Gwynn age 32 worked for the city and your mother Grace Payne age 30 was a housewife. Baby number 3 and I bet your parents were so excited. If your birthday really was June 6 that means you spent 3 more days on earth than you thought. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>You have been gone now 15 years as you left us March 6, 1998. I miss you, sometimes a lot! </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b> I panicked the other day thinking that I am forgetting you. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b> I will never forget you but maybe things about you as I get older. But you are part of my soul and the person that I am. I see your face. I see your smile. I even know your smell. I hear your voice but I can't remember your laugh. I want to remember you and things about you always. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b> So we are going to write our memories of you.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>jody </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>p.s. I love you Mom! </b></span></div>
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jodyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12789523249316936905noreply@blogger.com0