Bed Time Stories One of my first memories is falling down the stairs in a small house that Mom and I lived in. I was 3 or 4 at the time. I’m remember Mom picking me up and holding me. I’m sure she looked me over and made sure I was still in one piece. I also remember Mom would read me a bedtime story then say a prayer. At the same house I discovered my great grandma on the next block. The first time I went to visit I didn’t have permission. I don’t know how Mom found me, but I remember being marched back home. I don’t remember my punishment, but I do remember bedtime stories and a prayer. The first time I remember true fear was in the old Bosworth store. I guess Mom was trying on clothes and I could not find her. I looked everywhere to no avail, so I decided to go to my Aunt and Uncle’s house which was over a mile away. I didn’t know this at the time though I was maybe 4. I don’t remember how I was found and I’m sure I taught Mom real fear when she could not find me, but at night I do remember a bedtime story and a prayer. Then Mom and I lived in a different house, two rooms in an attic and aunt and uncle lived down stairs. I don’t recall my crime, but my aunt was babysitting and sent me upstairs. I do remember being very scared of the fact Mom was going to be home very soon. So I decided to punish myself so Mom would not have the burden. I gave myself a spanking and put myself in the corner and waited for Mom to come home. I can’t remember if my self-imposed punishment calmed Mom’s wrath or not. I had to explain myself and show Mom what I had done and then tell why it was wrong. I’m sure Mom had a hard time keeping a straight face, and at some point Mom held me and at night she would read a bed time story and say a prayer. In that house I discovered electricity by putting my finger in a light socket. You can’t fight back a fire with a wet rag like they did on TV and egg plants in a weed-filled garden didn’t help the Easter bunny. And my uncle found out little boys don’t always catch things tossed to them. I received my first fat lip. Mom held me and healed my wound, and at night Mom would read a bedtime story and say a prayer. I think I was in Kindergarten at the time. We lived in a small trailer park . I found out why you don’t get too close to a lawn seeder - I won’t wear shorts to this day because of it. I also learned why you don’t throw rocks at the windows at a new car dealership. The boy I was with ran away and left me to face my fate alone. To say Mom was mad is an understatement. I know I was punished severely, but I cant recall what it was. In that trailer I learned about house fires when a neighbor’s trailer burnt down, I gave away a favorite toy and a big lollipop I had been saving. I remember Mom filling a box with clothes and food, which I’m sure she could not afford to give away. Mom taught me charity. Mom let me be creative and I would build a hot wheels race track, and empty the cabinets of all our cereal boxes, peanut butter jars or what ever else I could find to build hills and tunnels, or whatever else I needed. I don’t know if Mom was playing with me or cleaning up after me, probably a little of both. anyway it was fun, at least for me. And at night Mom would hold me and read a bedtime story and say a prayer. First grade found us living in Columbus. In that apartment I found out why you don’t put crackers in the toaster. I remember the fire in the kitchen. I think it was just the toaster caught fire, but the cabinets may have been burnt as well. I also remember at hot summer Saturday morning, Mom was still sleeping and I was up early watching cartoons. I was worried that the cartoons would get hot and sure enough the back of the TV was warm and I could see little fires in the back of the set. Little did I know the tubes that made the TV work glowed orange. So to put out the little fires I sprayed water in the TV to cool off my cartoons. The set fizzed and popped, then a plum of smoke rolled from the set - needless to say the it was destroyed. Mom was up in a flash with the smoke alarm blaring and outside we flew. I had some explaining to do. During this time Mom taught me how to curve figures out of a bar of soap, and we made dogs, horses or what ever I could think of. Then we would make a bag of soap, sewing up a washrag and filling it with the leftover chucks of soap. That way I had my very own to use in the bath. A twist on soap on a rope I guess. Thinking back, it was probably to keep me out of her stuff. Mom also taught me how to read bedtime stories and say my own prayers. We then moved to Bloomington. In 3rd grade I learned not to take a dog to school. We lived close and on nice days I would some times walk to and from school. The dog made a good travel companion, but the school could not tolerate the dog visiting the classrooms. More than once the principal would walk me home at recess to tie the dog up. I thought it was fun, Mom saw it in a slightly different light. One time the other person in the house decided I needed corporal punishment, Once again I can’t recall my crime. Mom didn’t agree. So to keep peace in the house Mom came up with a plan, she hit the palm of her hand with the paddle and I would howl and cry. We laughed softly and shared a big hug. I thanked Mom for sparing me the agony of a spanking. Mom taught me compassion with that act, and at night one of us would read a bedtime story and say a prayer. I think I was about 10 years old when I first learned the heartbreak and sense of lose when the Lord calls a loved one home. I remember the phone ringing and Mom broke down. It was the first time I ever seen her cry. After she hung up the phone, Mom sat me down and explained that Great Grandma Ruhnow had passed away. Mom did her best to explain heaven and we looked at a picture in a storybook that depicted the pearly gates and streets of gold where pain and sickness were no more, I’m sure that was the bedtime story, and I know Mom shared a prayer. The years that followed we weathered the blizzard of 78’, my first girlfriend, and my first kiss, Mom explaining the Birds and the Bees and how a man should treat a lady. Well at the time it was a boy should treat a girl. My first fight with a neighbor boy and why it was wrong. Mom taught me respect. Mom let me raise birds in the garage and I discovered the wonders of birds hatching, and the heartbreak of pets dying. Mom taught me the circle of life. Sometimes we would go to one of the local stone quarries and look for fossils. Mom always made a big deal out of everything I found, no mater how small. She explained how they were formed and we didn’t believe in evolution. Mom also introduced me to model rockets. I would spend days building them, then on nice days we would launch them, each time learning how to build a better one. Mom was my first science teacher. I was 12 when my brother Tony arrived, and Mom was very excited and filled with joy. I on the other hand was very unsure of how out lives had changed. I was no longer the only center of Mom’s affection. Mom took great care to ensure me I was still loved, and I would not be left out. About this time Mom started to teach me how to drive. We had a old dodge pick up truck and a huge field behind the house. She would have me turn here and there, slow down, speed up, stop, backup etc. I just wanted to go fast. A few times Mom was holding on tight as I managed my way around the field. Thinking back I know Mom said a prayer. Once I can remember Mom taking me to Sears to by my first real suit. She told me I was growing into a man and needed to look the part. The day it was delivered I ran in the house, and could not wait to try it on. The next Sunday I wore the suit with pride. Now I looked as important as the old men at church did - or so I thought. As the years passed we found ourselves in Indianapolis. Mom would show us the wonders found at the zoo and museums and the grandeur of the big city. Overtime that took a backseat to cars, music and girls. It was Tony’s turn for bedtime stories and I know Mom would say a prayer. For a time I was like a yo-yo between Mom’s and other family members. I was struggling to find my place in the world. Coming of age was not easy for me, and I created a lot of chaos for Mom. Mom did her best, but some lessons are only learned at the school of hard knocks. While I was away in the Army, Mom told me she met Barry. I didn’t think too much about at the time, I was too busy with my own so called life. The first time I met Barry was when I came home for Grandpa Kalin’s funeral. I was stationed in Germany and busy discovering the world. I knew Mom’s life was changing, but I wasn’t sure if was Barry or the simple fact I was finally out of the house. I had forgotten the bedtime stories and a prayer. After my time with the Army was over I started my own family, and I was tied up with working and the challenges of parenthood. I found the roles changing from parent and child to mentor and student. Mom was a great help with the many life lessons that I need to learn. Mom sometimes helped when money was tight, but more often she shared her wisdom to help me dig my own way out of whatever I was going through. Her wisdom always proved more valuable than any monetary gift. Often we would talk for hours, and no subject was off limits. Mom never told what to do, but through her wisdom she would guide me to the proper path I should take. I’m not sure how it happened, but Mom became my best friend. With the exception of my wife, of course. I wasn’t near as diligent as Mom had been, but now it was my turn to tell bedtime stories and say a prayer. I slowly realized how unique Mom and Tony’s life had become with Barry. I often wondered what I had missed out on, as Tony grew up without a lot of the chaos I helped create. Mom received a true gift when she met Barry, and in turn Tony did as well. Together they created a life totally alien to the world I grew up in. Mom blossomed in ways that were only dreams in the previous decades. Mom would share some of the activities and groups Tony was involved in, and the travels she and Barry had taken. Barry was always there for them. Mom had found true happiness. I learned to love Barry as a father. I slowly remembered the bedtime stories and sometimes I would say a prayer. A few years ago Mom started to share some of the plans she and Barry were making for their golden years. Mom would share the dream of the new house in Tennessee and maybe someday we would make the move down south, so the family would be close. I was longing for Sunday dinners and the grandchildren getting in to things they shouldn’t. To our way of thinking this may seem very tragic the way Mom seemly was cheated out her reward for a life of hard work and perseverance. The selfless devotion she had to her husband, sons, grandchildren and her community. On the eve of retirement, with plans carefully laid - The hopes and dreams of a lifetime, finally coming true. Maybe it’s not for us to understand the workings of the Heavenly Father, or maybe just maybe, if we read the right book, we will find our answers in a bedtime story and a prayer. ~ Bob Milner