I remember the times we went to the Long Island bridge and flew our kites. Oh how they would soar in the wind, Dad making sure that they didn't get tangled in the overhead wires, and when they would sink into the lake, he would pull oh so hard, and up it would come flying right back up in the air.
Fishing trips to Half Way Brook up behind Uncle Hoarce and Aunt Ernestine's, or down to the damn on Lee Road behind Dick and June Young's. Dad heading down the river first with Bud and me tagging behind and Mom always bringing up the rear making sure we didn't fall in.
Hunting with Dad. We would go way out in the woods, and he would find the perfect tree for us to sit under and wait... Dad making sure we had plenty of Hershey Bars so we wouldn't get to hungry. He making sure that we sat just right, so that we would be up wind from any deer... especially when we took out those candy bars... don't want the deer to come and eat all our candy.
Dad stopping by the house on a cold winter's night in his big plow truck so that I could ride with him as he plowed down over the bridge and the roads on Long Island. Feeling as if sometimes we were going to get sucked into the snowbanks as the snow drifted heavily just before and after the bridge.
Mom and me singing in the choir at church. She sang with the adult choir and I sang with the junior choir. Practicing our songs together. How Mom loved to sing.
to be continued.......