"LITTLE BROTHER" turns 70

                  He started out as a child . . . On May 31, 1948 !
That means he is 10 years and 3 months younger than I and even now I have difficulty understanding how we reached these ages so quickly (as well as our other brother who will soon be 77 !)  But, here we are and I am grateful.

   Bob "weighed in " at well over 10 pounds and our Grand-ma Ida often called him "Big 'un".

    Those ten years were huge at the beginning, owing in part to his first grade year being at the Governor Morehead School in Raleigh.  Dad and Mom would drive him the thirty miles to school on Sunday evening and pick him up on Friday afternoon.  The following year, corrective lens allowed him to attend public school. As an eight year old, Bob could not understand why Big Brother did not want him tagging along on his dates.  He sometimes parlays experiences such as those into hyperbolic tales of child abuse by his two older brothers.

   When I was a college sophomore, I dated a girl named "Mary" (name changed to protect the innocent).  My parents agreed that I could invite her to our home during Christmas.  The next year when I was dating "Joyce" (again, name changed), the folks consented to another Christmas invitation, although mom expressed her concern that she might address her as "Mary". Well, the second visit was going well until mom asked, "Mary, would you like more tea?"
"Joyce's" blush turned a deep shade of red when Bob blurted, "Mom, you said you would punish me if I did that !"  And, there was no visit the following holiday season.

                         The shirt captions are accurate !


    Bob often tells that he majored in his 'freshman year' at UNC-CH, there being all kinds of diversions and alternatives to class attendance in Chapel Hill.  In time he was graduated with a journalism degree. (His interview and experience with the late UNC coach Dean Smith has been the topic of an earlier blog.) Thereafter, he worked with several print publications.  In his early 30's after marriage to Shirley and the births of his two children, he felt a call to ordained ministry and returned to seminary.

   For several years, he was Editor of our county newspaper and wrote a folksy weekly column (which he has continued for well over 30 years).  During those years he has also served as  pastor in three area churches as well as ministering to numerous persons not of his congregations.  Often, he is requested by families to conduct funerals of their deceased as well as perform frequent weddings.  I admiringly have called him the 'Chaplain' of our county.  He is widely known in our area and as we have an uncommon surname, I am often asked "Are you kin to Bob ?" to which I routinely ask playfully, "Before I answer that, tell me how you know him?"  Actually, I am pleased to acknowledge that he is my brother.

        Bob has always held a 'special place' in the hearts of my children (now adults). When Chris, the younger son, died, Bob assisted me in conducting his funeral. His nephew and niece contributed to this blog with these memories:

  Nephew: "I have so many fond memories through the years with Uncle Bob and the entire family. . . . I remember always being so excited to visit [the family home]. The laughter, the love, and the stories hold such strong memories that make me smile and feel good inside as I recall the moments. . . . [When I was  11 or 12 years old] I unintentionally got Bob into trouble with Dad and Pa {the kids' name for their grand-father}about his fast driving. I was riding back for Chapel Hill with Uncle Bob (in a Mustang I think) and we were following Dad who drove very slow.  Bob veered on a side road and took off and we were going over 90 mph. Of course we beat Dad home and I bragged about how fast we went. It didn't set well with Dad nor Pa. Sorry, Bob. I didn't mean to rat on you. It was fun though."

   Niece:  "A simple birthday wish just doesn't suffice because you're such an important person in my life.  I hope you know how much I appreciate you . . .  [and your]  taking the time to support me at all the big events in my life. . . . I vividly remember spending time with you when I was young [and your] driving faster than anyone I had ever ridden with in life. . . . Family time together has always been some of my happiest memories. . . . And when 'uncle Bob' was around at family events, it was sure to be a hoot. You always knew how to make all the cousins laugh. . ."

    She went through her 'archives' and forwarded this photo :

                   As Flower Girl at Bob and Shirley's wedding

     Bob is now 'officially' retired, although he still assists a nearby church during their pastoral interim.  And, he works with his son in his tending to his beef herd.  As father of two and grand-father of six, he much of his time is spent with family.

    Maintaining a long tradition, every Thanksgiving the extended family gathers at Bob and Shirley's home for glad reunion, too much good food, thrice told tales repeated annually with occasional slight embroidering, and, of course, maintaining the family tradition of naps.

        His one grand-son and five grand-daughters luxuriate in the abundance of love and nurture that Bob and Shirley give them.  This  recent picture captures his delight in being with them.

   He's my 'baby brother' and I am proud of him and love him.

      Satchel

The best time of the day . . .

   "Morning has broken, like the first morning . . . " . So sang Cat Stevens in his version of the song written in 1931.  Today at 5:45 a.m., I revisited  a frequent option . . . back to bed for another hour or so or get up, have coffee , meditate and enjoy the quiet.  Gratefully, I opted for the latter despite hearing the long-ago lyrics: "Oh, how I hate to get up in the morning".

   Now, I am a bona fide Myers-Briggs Introvert.  I love my wife, our dog, family, and friends .  Still (was going to change that word, but it seems to fit ): [Being] still, I can feel my soul's  'batteries' being recharged.  And, early morning seems to be the ideal zone.
As an added bonus, sometimes that makes me easier to live with (sorry about the preposition).

   Sacred scriptures extol the need and the benefits of early morning quiet.  And, I remember lines from a pious poem learned when a teen: "I met God in the morning, when the day was at its  best." ( apologies to the late Bishop Cushman if I misquoted).  My late friend, J.R., regularly arose around 4:30 for meditation and reflection.

   'The world' makes a lot of noise of varying decibels.  Early in the morning, even  the whirring of a refrigerator is LOUD.  My corner office faces a busy intersection across from a large hospital .  After several years in that location, I can distinguish the sirens of fire trucks, police, and emergency vehicles without even a glance out the window.  And sometimes, just for added volume, the AirCare helicopter joins the raucous. 

   But, back to mornings. The above photograph of a December sunrise over the Atlantic captures for me the restorative benefit of watching morning 'break' yet again.

   Years ago, there was a   Pogo Possum cartoon where the Owl motions to Pogo to join him in a boat. After a time of  shared silence, Owl commented that nothing compares to early morning silence.  Pogo: "Makes you wonder why more people don't try it."

     Satchel