Happy 62nd Anniversary

Happy anniversary to my parents!

Friends of mine

I had dinner with a few American friends at their place recently. These people are like my overseas family. I'm so thankful for them!

I'm related to these people

Part of my family got together during the holidays. My brother J and his immediate family, my parents, J's mother-in-law, and J's son-in-law are all in the photo. H and her husband T live in Seattle, so group photo ops like this are rare. 

Guests at the anniversary party

In the previous post I told you all about the 60th wedding anniversary party for my parents, and in this post you'll get to see the guests who attended the party. It's a really long post, but worth it if it helps us remember the day and all the people who made it special!

Charles Dodson was my parents' pastor both in Carthage and Tyler, and as such, he knew several groups of people at the party. Here he says a few words about my parents and our family.

 Janette and Dale Pair, friends of my parents from Sunday School in Tyler

Visiting at this table are the Stantons from Pecos, my cousin Sherry from San Diego, my aunt Lynnell from Gary (in east Texas), my mom's first cousin Mana Bailey from Dallas, and Mana's cousin on her other side of the family.

My niece Hillary used to work at a bakery, so she knows how to cut a wedding cake into serving sizes. Hillary has been living in Montana, got married in Scotland this summer, and will be moving with her husband to Seattle in a few days.

See more photos by clicking below where it says: "Read more."

The yard boy

I was looking forward to having my own yard to tend to. But I had some nerve damage to my right shoulder during surgery, and I was told that I shouldn't mow my own yard for a year. Yikes! I'm not even planning to be here a year. Fortunately, my 17-year-old nephew, Nathan. was looking for part time work, so I hired him as my yard boy. Here he plants a crepe myrtle. Nathan will be a senior in high school this year. I'm so glad that he lives nearby, for many reasons!

A visit from my oldest brother and his wife

My oldest brother C and his wife P came through Houston a few days ago. We spent the evening together and I cooked dinner for them. Unfortunately, my all-electric kitchen lost electrical power while I was cooking. It was a minor disaster and we were still able to eat.

College friends and health updates

Sorry I haven't been updating the blog lately. I took a hit from chemo, but chemo is over now.

My brother J and I got a visit from some college friends yesterday. Wes S. and Steve P. came to visit for the day. We actually needed some help with some things, and they volunteered to come pitch in and help us out. We loved the fellowship time with them. Not only had we all gone to college together in Brownwood, but after college we all ended up in Fort Worth and attended the same church. I hadn't seen them in about 30 years, but we kind of picked up where we left off.

L to R: Wes, Steve, Elizabeth, J

We took 17 photos, and my brother J made goofy faces in all 17 of them. Someday I'm going to make a collage of his goofy face photos. Every goofy face is different.

In other news:

I defied the odds for months, but as you can guess from the photos, I finally lost all my hair. Well, not ALL my hair. I think I had about 137 strands of hair still intact at its lowest point. It started growing back a day or two ago, so I decided to own up to it. I never shaved my head through the entire ordeal, because I wanted to see what happened if you didn't shave it. Now I know. I'll tell you more about it some other time.

I'm having surgery this Wednesday in Houston. The surgeon will remove all the lymph nodes on the right side of my neck. Please pray for me. I don't know how much I can post during recovery, but when I am able, I"ll try to do a better job about updating this blog. It just feels a little strange to talk about life in Texas on a blog called "Stories of the Middle Kingdom." But I will. Thanks for understanding.

Crossed the line

I had a goal in mind when I was in the U.S. over the Christmas holidays.

I almost forgot about it in the rush of the holidays, but then a few days before I returned overseas, I borrowed my parents' car. My dad reached into his pocket and pulled out some change. He knew I didn't need the 53 cents, but he wanted to pay for this momentous occasion, to be a part of it.

I drove to town, pulled into the drive-up window at McDonalds, rolled down the window, and said these words for the very first time:

"I want a senior coffee."

Because, you see, I am now old enough to get a senior discount at McDonalds!

I have looked forward to this day ever since a decade or so ago when I discovered my dad could get McDonalds senior coffees for 27 cents (in another city where the price is lower).

People younger than me will not understand why it is such a good thing to get older. People my age and older totally get it though. It is an honor to say I lived long enough to be a senior.

At least by the standards of McDonalds.

It is a proud moment.

Family

While in the U.S., my family and I (all of us who were in the same city that day) all went to an evening church service the first Sunday in January and had our photo taken together!

Mi Familia

I just returned to Asia around midnight last night. I'll try in the near future to post some of the photos from my trip. Today I will start by posting photos of family that I saw during this most recent trip. Above are my parents.

Above is my oldest brother CW, his wife and their 20-year-old son, the youngest of five kids.

And then there is my other older brother JW, his wife and their 16-year-old son, the youngest of three kids.

This is my mom's younger sister LW who lives about an hour away.

And here is me in my parents' backyard on Christmas Day. More photos coming soon!

Now and then

Then: Early 1960s

Now: Christmas Day 2013

(About fifty years later)

All things considered, we have a lot to be thankful for over the last half century!

Traveling in style

And they say my dog is spoiled! Look at this precious poodle being pushed around the house. My parents and their dog had a little fun to work off their Thanksgiving meal a few days ago.

If this was my dog, she would have most certainly gotten on the walker by herself. But this well-behaved poodle would never do such a thing. My dad put her up to it (literally).

Must have been Veterans' Day

When I looked on Facebook this morning, I saw lots of photos of men in uniforms. I don't have a marked calendar handy (oh yeah, maybe I should change the one on my wall that says October), but I presume that yesterday was Veteran's Day. Here's a little family background on those who served their country:

My dad, WOW

My father was drafted into the Army when he was 19 years old. He served two years, from 1953-1955.  When he went to basic training, he expected to be shipped off to the Korean War that was underway at the time. But God had mercy and during my dad's basic training in El Paso, they got word that an armistice had been signed, ceasing battle operations. What a glorious day that must have been for my dad, his family, and his fiancé (my mom)! But a draft is a draft, and my dad had to serve out his entire two years. He spent one year manning a ground-based gun intended for aircraft on the snowy grounds of Misawa, Japan. He did not enjoy that bitterly cold year in Japan, and Japan's role in WWII just a decade earlier probably influenced his opinions of the place. I am so glad that he never had to see first-hand battle, but he was based where tensions were high and governments were unstable. A true patriot, my dad proudly flies the U.S. flag in his front yard on special holidays.

My oldest brother, CLW

C joined the Army when he was about 19 or 20 years old, after several years of college. The army promised him a chance to study at their expense. But of course, there is always more to the story. Like all soldiers, he was trained and sent abroad, where he engaged in military exercises to prepare for war. There were no wars going on at the time, so it seemed like a safe thing to do. One day during field drills in Germany, he and his guys were getting into the back of an armed personnel carrier (truck), when somehow in the truck behind them, an "unloaded" mounted machine gun went off, hitting my brother and another guy. I forgot how many bullet fragments entered my brother's body, some just missing his heart by millimeters. The other guy had to have facial reconstruction surgery. My brother stayed in the hospital for two months, enduring surgeries and mending his health. But you know, you never really get over something like that.

His wife had just had their second child in the U.S. a few months earlier; C had been in the U.S. for that; so she and the family hadn't joined him in Germany yet.

It was Friday, the 4th of July when he got shot. We didn't hear anything until Sunday evening of July 6th. It was after the evening church service, and I was home that summer from college when we got the call. My parents were upset, so I called the pastor who came over with his wife and sat with my parents to comfort and pray with us. I eventually went to bed (I think I had to work the next day), but my parents stayed up all night, making their first ever international phone calls. This was 1980, and making international calls wasn't a common thing to do.

They dialed "0" on their rotary-dialled phone to call the local operator, who put them in touch with a operator in the country of Germany. My parents had been told that my brother was in a hospital in Landstuhl, Germany. The German operator told my parents that Landstuhl was nothing BUT hospitals. And that lovely German operator stayed on the phone with my parents for hour upon hour until she called around to all the hospitals and found my brother. And sometime in the middle of that night, my parents got to talk to my brother.

He stayed in the army for awhile, but an episode like that -- where you are shot by one of your own people, by a gun that isn't supposed to be loaded -- is not something that instills trust or makes you want to stay. He suffers like many soldiers who returned from war suffer. It never goes away. He's a good guy. Please pray for him not to have any more residual effects from this event.

My next older brother, JAW

Technically, he is not a veteran. But he serves his country and puts his life on the line every single day. Not just for a tour of duty, but for a lifetime. So I think people like him should either be included in Veteran's Day or get their own holiday. Or at the very least, they should get a lifetime supply of Velveeta and Rotel cheese dip, with tortilla chips.

My cousin, RY

Richard (yeah, I'm using his real name) got married in the summer of 1965. In December of that same year, his mom, step-dad, two younger brothers and two women were killed by a drunk-driver. He had no immediate family left. Isn't that enough for one person to endure for a lifetime? Apparently the government didn't think so. A few years later, I remember standing at an airport, probably Houston Hobby airport, as Richard wore his uniform and was walking to the gate. Emotions were high that day, and tears flowed freely. When I, a child, asked why, I learned that he was going to Vietnam, to serve in the war, and if things didn't go well (as they had not for so many others), we might not see Richard again. Later in life, the impact of that departure became more real to me. Thank God, he came home. Richard is a great guy who has had to endure more suffering in his lifetime than most.

When I was growing up, every week at church we would pray for peace in Vietnam. When the war ended, I remember wondering what we would pray about now that the war was over. I couldn't remember a time when we hadn't prayed for it to end.

Other extended family

My uncle R.E., and his son, William both served in the Marines. My cousin Norman served in the Navy (in the Philippines). I'm not sure who else in my extended family served, but maybe my parents will fill in the blanks and I can update you.

Last but not least, I want to give a little shout-out to my mom who sat home on pins and needles on many occasions, praying and supporting my dad and brothers through the times of uncertainty presented by their service. I'm sure my sisters-in-law have been through a lot too. Women are often the heart of the support system to our veterans.

I hate war, but someone has got to defend us from the bad guys. Thanks to those of you who put yourself at risk for the rest of us. 

Once upon a time

Here's a photo of me a month shy of my 6th birthday, sitting on rocking outdoor chairs with my younger cousin Wanda. She looks so cute! I have never seen this picture before, not until Wanda sent it to my parents last week. So now the cat's out of the bag -- I was young once. This was taken in December, so obviously it's not very cold in the Houston area in winter. I bet we didn't even need different clothes for summer and winter. Thanks for sharing the photo Wanda! 'Cause I don't think I knew what I looked like as a five year old, and I'm glad to find out. :-)

Oh happy day!

Eighty years ago this evening in a small town a few hours west of Houston, a cute little baby boy was born. (I wasn't there of course, but I've seen pictures.) He, the youngest, made his family of five complete. 

Eighty years flies by too fast if you ask me. I'm sure to him it seems like just yesterday that he was walking through a creek full of alligators on his way home from school. 

Why didn't you say so sooner?

Sunday morning my time, I called to chat with my parents. While on the phone, Mimi decided she wanted to play.

She started biting my jeans, and made ferocious sounds. There was a little nom-nom-nom, and a little grr-ruff-ruff, followed by all-out barking. She was loud. My parents thought I must have been standing inside a lion's cage at the zoo.

So my dad, who has a close first-hand relationship with my little mutt, asked me to put Mimi on the phone. I moved the earpiece down to her level while counting to three so my dad would know when to start talking. I couldn't hear what he was saying, but Mimi seemed very attentive to whatever it was he was telling her.

I pulled the phone back up to my ear and asked him what he said. He said, "I told her to cut that malarkey out and to STOP BARKING!" 

And she did.

I haven't stopped laughing since.

The homeland celebrates

Happy 4th of July to my American friends and family.

58 years ago, something wonderful happened

Happy 58th Anniversary to my parents! They were married on July 1, 1955 at the First Baptist Church in Rosenberg, Texas. I am blessed beyond measure to have them as my parents and to share the journey of life with them. It's fun to be in my family. 

Photo in their backyard by me. But not taken this year. Obvs.

Separated at birth

I'm seeing a similarity here. Is it just me?

One of the above photos is of one of my brothers. In fact, it is his Facebook photo, although I'm not sure that anyone who has never gone on a hunting trip with him before would recognize him in this photo. Perhaps he did that on purpose to maintain his incognito status. (Or maybe he's hoping to be an extra on Duck Dynasty. That would be fun. 'Cause that's a show you need to watch. I fear the beard is way too short for that show though. Thank goodness.) Anyway, the EARS on these two makes for such an uncanny resemblance that I couldn't pass commenting on it. 

If I spot a Chinese false deity that looks like YOU, dear reader, I'll be sure and let you know. So far this is the only resemblance I am aware of.

P.S. This photo was already public. I would not use a photo in this manner if it wasn't.

Bless this food

I'm thankful for those who have been helping my parents by bringing meals to them. My dad learned to make meat loaf and all, but he sure appreciates an evening when he doesn't have to cook and clean. He's quite capable of a lot of things -- he mows the yard and has regularly washed dishes for years. But when you put him in the kitchen as a cook, he is out of his element.  Neighbors, Sunday School classmates and J's family have all helped. And since I wish I could help but can't, I want to say thanks to those of you who do help. Bless you!