Another crazy thought

First--let me just start with the fact that the last crazy thought I wrote about (the two people I never want to see again) had nothing to do with anyone in the army. I think it may have seemed like that because I wrote "I don't want to be stationed with them" but I just meant I didn't want to live near them. Army lingo has just invaded the way I think and talk about everything. They aren't in the army--or married to anyone in the army.

One more thing. . .although not to the same extent--I also strongly dislike one more person--the doctor at the German hospital who wouldn't tell me what was wrong with S. and told me to learn German. (My husband was dying for heaven's sake! Not a time to learn a new language!!) So--I don't like him either!

Ok--the new crazy thought. What if you were honored at an awards show. (Like the Oscars). What would you say? Who would you thank? This is not an award show for your movie career (I don't know anyone with a movie career) It is just for your life. Just a chance to get up and say thanks for who made you who you are. Now obviously, you thank your parents, your siblings, your spouse, your kids, etc. But, I mean do you have an obscure people who don't even realize that they impacted you, that you would like to acknowledge? (This seems to be the exact opposite of the last crazy thought, huh? I didn't realize that until I was writing it!)

So, in keeping with a couple of my friends blogs who have something they do once a week "Memories on a Monday" "Travel Trivia" (I would make those words blue and turn it into a link if I were halfway computer literate--but I'm not)This is going to be mine. Once a week I am going to write about someone who has had a positive impact on my life. Someone that probably doesn't even think they impacted me at all (if they even remember me). Then, if I can find their email addresses, I am going to send it to them.

The first one is Shirley Weatherford. Her daughter was my close friend all through childhood. I first really met Shirley when she was my Bluebird leader. Bluebirds is like girl scouts. It is part of Campfire Girls. Shirley picked us up from school for our first meeting. In the car an Elvis song came on and I said I didn't like Elvis. She actually stopped the car and said I couldn't ride in her car if I didn't like Elvis! Then she laughed and laughed. I still remember the sound of her laugh. It was (is? I doubt it has changed much) so nice. Just plain happy.

Shirley was a part of my life in different aspects throughout my childhood. We lived in a small town so the adults all held many roles. She taught Sunday school at my church, she owned a really good cafe in town, and of course, I was at her house a lot because I was friends with Joy. (Her daughter's name is Joy--see what I mean--she's happy!) In high school, she was the home ec teacher and then she was the sponsor for PALs (peer assistance and leadership) and I was a PAL. That was a great year. She was a lot of fun and I learned a lot from her about random everyday life and how you should live it.

I'm not sure what "specifically" I want to thank Shirley Weatherford for. She didn't teach me a specific skill or do one dramatic thing for me that changed my life. I think I am just a better person because I grew up knowing her. She was happy and kind. She treated everyone (even irritating high school teenage girls) like they were smart and special. She had time to listen to me no matter how insignificant my problems were. She also listened to me during several times in my life when the problems were definitely significant. Her home was cozy and comfortable. I always felt welcomed and calm when I was there.

She was great to know as a kid, because she genuinely liked us, and enjoyed spending time with us. She was great to know as a teenager because she was a stable force in a turbulent time, and she gave guidance as though she was giving friendship. I don't really know her as an adult, since I left there at 18 and haven't moved back, but I imagine that she would be just as great to know as an adult. The kind of person that not only do you want to have as your friend, but that you want to be like.