My fondest childhood memories come from spending time with my grandparents; my mother’s parents Dale and Lilly Butt. They had a farm between Bethany and Sullivan, Illinois. We spent many weekends there during my very young years and during the summer we got the opportunity to spend a week with them individually.

I believe my grandmother was one of the kindest people I ever knew. I do not recall her ever saying anything bad about anyone, “If you can’t think of anything good to say about someone, then don’t say anything at all” was one of her favorite sayings. My Grandfather worked the farm and, whereas he may have shown anger, I do not recall him ever getting or showing serious anger or holding a grudge.

I recall him raising his voice once at me because of some infraction committed in his workshop. I don’t recall what I did, but later that evening during supper while telling the story to my grandma, he was laughing and was amused by the whole thing. He was not the type to carry anger or hold a grudge. That spoke volumes to me and I have tried to live what they tried to teach by their actions. I only wish I could say I lived up to those lessons.

There is a memory in my head that is as clear as if it had happened this morning. When the grandparent’s house was filled with grandkids spending the night, it was a special treat to be the one who got to sleep on the couch in the living room. On one particular weekend I was fortunate enough to be the recipient of that treat. I was quite young, perhaps 7 or 8 years old. I woke up very early one morning before sunrise and saw grandpa sitting in his chair looking out the window. There was no radio playing, no lights were on and the small black and white TV was turned off. The only light in the room came from the glow of his pipe as he smoked it.

As he put the pipe to his mouth the increased glow of the pipe illuminated his face and gave it an uncanny glow; highlighting the lines of his face. I did not move and I made no sound; I just watched. It was apparent to me, at this young age, that his mind was intently engaged, but I had no idea what he was thinking about. I laid there and watched him for a time then drifted back to sleep; to this day I wonder what he was thinking.

I miss them both and regret the times I could have spent with them but did not because of some event I felt was more important at the time; like spending time with friends. The sad truth here is I can’t even remember the names of some of these “friends” now. Little did I know that I had missed an opportunity of a lifetime; an opportunity that is gone now and can never be reclaimed.