Joseph Samual Cox/Evan Miller

I like the blog that Bonnie did last.   It makes me think of people gone from our lives here on this Earth, but with us always in Spirit. 
I'm one who would love to have moments back with loved ones.... but I'm one to never wish the past would change.  (I know that isn't what you meant, to change the past, but I have a hesitation to ever change/wish it different)  Though I don't want to change the past, I do sooo wish for things to have been "different" at times in my life.  It's hard to say at what point it might have been best changed.... so, I leave it alone
I would love to have seen my GrandFather's face when I had a chance to introduce him to my oldest son, Evan.  I was in labor when my Grandfather died.  And I felt guilty because there was so much sadness.  I finally had to 'fess up and say I had to go to the hospital.  I laid in the hospital holding my firstborn Son, while my mother was at her Father's funeral.  Such joy, while at the same time such sorrow.  My Grandfather was what a Grandfather should be.  A lap to sit in, and a big strong man in a plaid Woolrich shirt, that I loved to lay my cheek against.  He loved to play and was never too stern, though I knew I must behave.  (Grandma might be around the corner!)

This Birth/Death shows that there is always a "Silver Lining", or, when "One Door Closes, Another Door Opens".  There are a multitude of sayings that describe that type of situation. 

I loved my Grandfather immensely.  I know  you're supposed to, but I truly did.  I remember BBQing at their house in Nampa, Him and I going to KFC to get a "Bucket O chicken" and then coming home to shuck corn.  I can still picture the corn silk stuck to my fingers and watching it float in the air with the sunlight sparkling off it.  He was a quiet man, and I just loved him.  Simply, Quietly.  Just as he was, Simple and Quiet. 

Losing him would have been so much more difficult, though I didn't see it at the time, without the joy of having Evan.  Evan was my second born child.  My daughter has passed shortly after her birth, which is something you never really leave behind you.  That kind of event changes who you were, instantly. 

As a child, if you asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I would have told you "A Mommy"  I wanted 4 children, and that is what I have.  3 Living here with me. 

Evan was never meant to fill the loss of my daughter, but I did long to have him fill the empty spot in my arms.  I had a beautiful nursery, just waiting for a baby.  There were times I would sit in there and be overcome with sorrow, but when my oldest son was carried into that room the first time, it became a place of Love and Happiness. 

I know that all Mother's love their children (in a perfect world) ... but I will say that my life REVOLVED around Evan and his smiles and giggles.  My husband and I tried to make sure he was strong minded and unafraid to speak  his mind.  (sometimes now, I cringe at what he's not afraid to say) We tried to make sure he was physically able to do whatever he needed/wanted to do, and again, unafraid of doing it. (at times I cringed knowing we had to go to the hospital)  I wanted him to be kind and gentle, and strong and firm when a situation called for it.  (sometimes My heart wants to explode when I see his amazingly strong hands touch a baby with the softness of a butterfly) We raised him to be loyal and never fail to be where he was needed, even if it meant giving up on something else.  I have seen him demand all of these things by his simply "being".

I was a strict disciplinarian ...looking back I think too much so.  But one of my absolute wishes for my children was for them to be honest and upright.  I never have been regretful at the way they have become adults. 

I have seen such tenderness in that tough man, that it takes my breath away.  Such giving and thoughtfullness and love for his own little family.  Such Loyalty.  Every good thing I wish that people to have, is possessed in my son's soul.

What would I change from the past?  Not really anything, though just once I would have loved to lay my son in my Grandfather's lap, and see his pride.  But really, I feel it.  My son will be a grandfather one day, and his grandchildren will crawl up in his lap and cherish those moments of laughter and joy.

I have some of my Grandfather's old Wool Woolrich plaid shirt/jackets, so I still get my hugs too. I was wearing one once out at a branding on a real cold day.  I was standing with my back to the fire, and my shirt (his shirt) and my hair actually got singed!  That shirt had a black sooty looking spot for awhile, but it's gone now, though I never wash it (afraid of hurting it) .... it's a good as new I guess, somehow.  Maybe he too care of it for me.  I think of him every time I put one of those on. 

Jessie