If she had the proper words to say,

The snow is lightly falling and has been for a few hours. It's soft, and pretty. I have lit every candle in the house (18!), and the lighting is warm and cozy. Jack's still sledding outside with friends, A.J. is practicing his clarinet in his room, and Philip is napping. I'm grooving to the Glee soundtrack while I tidy the office (yeah, it's been playing for days straight!). We have an easy dinner planned tonight, and then Philip and I will knock out some movies later.

Ahhhhh.

On Thursday afternoon, I sped through my tasks so I could leave work a bit early. I changed clothes there, then headed up to the boys' school for A.J.'s recorder concert. It was an hour-long program, and he did very well playing several tunes on his recorder. I was proud. :-)

Yesterday, Friday afternoon, I again left work a bit early, changing clothes as well. I then sped to the boys' school once more, this time for Jack's kindergarten celebration concert. Yesterday was also 'Rainbow Day' for school spirit, and the kindergarteners had been assigned to wear red (A.J.'s fourth grade class was wearing green.) Jack sang his songs and did the hand-motioning, all the while not falling off the top tier of the stadium rows. He had another speaking part, too! (I didn't know that previously, but I stood up quickly and got a good picture of him during it.) After his program, he munched on some sweets at a cookie reception, and then we grabbed A.J. to leave school about fifteen minutes early.

Then last night was 'Family Fun Night' at the Lied Activity Center. We had hotdogs, chips and soda, and the boys went swimming. (As an aside, it is SO nice now that, after being in swim lessons for a year - and still continuing them - that the boys can easily swim on their own. Not just tread water, but officially SWIM. Philip and I don't have to get in the water, and instead, can watch from the sidelines for now. ROCK.) Jack waited in line for minutes on end to meet with a clown, and he was then rewarded with a balloon bow-and-arrow (orange, of course). A.J. left the pool to join a rowdy game of dodgeball, and - surprise! His team won, though it was a long, hard battle. He was breathless and sweaty, but just grinning as we watched the end of the game.

Everyone went to bed early last night and slept WELL. I don't even remember waking once!

Today, the boys and I shuttled off to the commissary to pick up a few sundry items (stopping on the way to deliver a special card). We grabbed a bite to eat at the BX, then came home quickly to drop off our goods. It was colder and wetter than anticipated, so we grabbed jackets before then heading back out, this time to the Rose Theater to catch a performance of "Horrible Harry." We all really enjoyed the quirky, fun play, and then we drove out to ColdStone Creamery for a special snack afterwards.

Now we're back home, and we've got church in an hour. The rain has been coming down gently for a few hours now, and I can't wait to get back in from church, light some candles and heat up a few pizzas for dinner. It'll be a cozy night in after the craziness of the last several days!

I just talked to my mom for right under two hours. I don't get to do that often enough. :-)

My mom and I just talked on the phone for two hours. We tried to get off a few times, and I guess we should have a bit earlier. She just fell asleep on me, and I couldn't wake her up!

*giggles*

As I mentioned last night, my Aunt Edith sent me a scanned copy of her book, and I'm now going to share my favorite bedtime story with those interested.

( Epaminondas and His Auntie )

Pawpaw's death this morning has really made me spend the day deep in thought. He's been sick for a while now, but somehow, I'd always managed to convince myself that Granny was going to die first, having suffered from Alzheimer's for many, many years now. We'd talked before, in my immediate family, of how we honestly thought that Pawpaw wouldn't probably be too far behind Granny in passing on, but it was never really a thought that he would die first.

And things are so much harder for me when they don't happen the way in which I'd - for lack of a better word - planned on. I don't know exactly why that is, but it's certainly true.

My Pawpaw was a special, special man. Rather, "special" doesn't even begin to describe him. He was a character, but he was an odd one; "character" typically inspires thoughts of boisterous, loud or famously funny, but Pawpaw wasn't like that. He was a very soft-spoken man. In my lifetime, I've never yet met anyone else who so easily personified Teddy Roosevelt's old saying, "Speak softly and carry a big stick..." only Pawpaw didn't even need the stick. Rather, he carried with him a big heart.

I spent three summers with my grandparents in the panhandle of Texas when I was growing up, and it is amazing the lessons that can be crammed into every single memory from those times. Most of my time was spent with Granny, but Pawpaw was the quiet constant in the background. He had a successful business painting signs all over Borger, Texas, and he would take a break from his work for meals and for trips to the Community Center for swimming or racquetball each day. After returning back home, we'd always have "high tea."

It astounded me that anyone would prefer to have cornbread soaked in milk to a mountain of ice cream smothered in chocolate syrup, but that's exactly what Pawpaw would choose every time. He had a small, quiet mouth, and I would watch him from the corner of my eye during mealtimes to observe him eating "properly" from a spoon; that is, sipping from the long side, rather than the slender point on the end.

Pawpaw could pray longer than anyone, and he wasn't ordained! When he'd sit backwards on the toilet for Granny to trim his hair ("both of them" was a family joke), he'd hum along while Granny trilled hymns. He was a God-fearing man, and though he usually wore stained and paint-splattered jeans and old shirts, he could clean up something fierce for church on Sunday (or weddings - my dad has a cut-out that makes me smile so great, and it's of my Granny overcome with emotion upon seeing Pawpaw get into a tuxedo for my cousin Alisa's wedding in '94). Sometimes while we girls finished getting ready for church, we'd hear Pawpaw play lively and spritely tunes on the piano, and they were such a treat to listen to. I'm honestly not sure if he ever had any formal training, but he could play magnificently, and he didn't use books.

Pawpaw had a few ways of saying, "Now, Vergie Nell!" (my Granny's name) that were all his own. They never argued seriously, but it was almost funny to hear him finally reach a point of exasperation with my grandmother because it didn't happen very often. He usually let Granny be the one to get worked up and excited over something, and I think he did it mostly because he knew how much she enjoyed it. He was definitely the quieter of the pair. They would have celebrated their 67th anniversary (I think?) in just five more days.

During family get-togethers, Pawpaw was the one who'd drive all over looking for an open store for whatever item or ingredient we needed. No sooner would he return home than we'd have something else he needed to go back out for. We laughed about it, and I think he enjoyed it as well.

My Granny was constantly writing letters or cards to me when I was growing up. By the time I was in junior high, I began to long for a letter from Pawpaw, and I asked him a few times to write me something. I recognized Granny's handwriting instantly, of course, but I began to wonder if I'd ever even really seen Pawpaw's handwriting. As it turned out, I did end up receiving a card and letter from Pawpaw himself one time, almost five years ago now. Rather than being happy, I cried and cried over it, knowing that Pawpaw had finally written to me because Granny's mind was by then so addled that she couldn't do it herself.

And he'd written me a letter when Jack was born. We lived in Alaska at the time, but when we learned that we were having a second baby boy, there was absolutely no hesitation on a name: Jack. My Pawpaw's name was Jack, and I wanted a little boy just as special as he was. (My Pawpaw's real name was Harlen Eugene, but he'd been called 'Jack' for as long as anyone could remember.) I cried then because I felt fairly certain at the time that my dear Pawpaw Jack would never get to meet his namesake.

And sadly, I was correct.

Still, I am so thankful for the memories I have. Not only that, but there is no way I can look into my little boy's eyes and not see the kind heart of my Pawpaw living on.

"You can't control the length of your life, but you can have something to say about the width and depth."
~ excerpt from today's (May 23) daily calendar

I've mentioned Pawpaw's love for motorcycles before, and it seems only fitting that I end with this picture of him.



Pawpaw
'Jack'
Harlen Eugene Guynes

June 22, 1916 - May 23, 2006

My Aunt Edith sent me this in email this morning:

ASU professor killed in crash

Wall High School teacher, student injured

By PAUL A. ANTHONY and ERIN QUINN, Staff writers
May 7, 2006

AUSTIN - An Angelo State University professor was killed Friday in a head-on collision in Llano County that also injured a Wall High School journalism adviser and her journalism student returning from the state UIL academic competition in Austin.

Terry John Lehmann, a longtime professor of history at the university, was driving to Austin to visit his sick father when his car veered into oncoming traffic and struck a sport-utility vehicle driven by Sarah Hessler, returning to the San Angelo area with Wall sophomore Kate Wilde.

Hessler is in guarded condition at Brackenridge Hospital in Austin, with both feet and ankles shattered, said Mark Del Toro, a spokesman with the Texas Department of Public Safety office in Kerrville, which is investigating the crash. Wilde was treated overnight for broken ribs and bruises and was released from Brackenridge on Saturday.

There were no other occupants in either vehicle.

"We're pretty broken up," said John Wheeler, a close friend of Lehmann's and a fellow ASU history professor, on Saturday. "He was ... irreplaceable, and irreplaceable as a friend."

The wreck occurred about 6:30 p.m. on State Highway 71 about 10 miles west of Llano, Del Toro said. Llano is about 130 miles southeast of San Angelo and about 70 miles northwest of Austin.

Lehmann, 61, was pronounced dead at the scene, said Llano County Justice of the Peace Duane Nobles, who sent Lehmann's body for an autopsy in Austin to determine the cause of death.

"We don't know really what caused him to go into the other lane," Nobles said. "He could have fallen asleep, it could have been a heart attack, or he could have just lost control there."

Lehmann's father, who lives in Austin, recently had suffered a stroke, said ASU history department secretary Sally Turner, and Lehmann traveled there every weekend to see him.

Lehmann's wife, ASU computer science professor Twila Lehmann, was in Austin on Saturday and unavailable for comment.

Hired by ASU in 1977 and principally a teacher of geography and American history, Lehmann was remembered by several colleagues as a soft-spoken man who was well-respected by peers and students alike.

He spent hours helping students prepare for exams, Wheeler said, and in his spare time, he collected model trains - even building a room in his house that he called the "train room."

"He was a wonderful person," said Charles Endress, former head of the history department and the man who hired Lehmann to the faculty.

Word of the crash came to members of the ASU and Wall communities - in the San Angelo area and in Austin - early Saturday.

Wilde and Hessler were returning after Wilde finished fourth in a field of 12 at the Class 2A News Writing competition, part of the University Interscholastic League's annual statewide academic meet.

Hessler, 24, remained in good spirits Saturday at Brackenridge, although both her legs were in casts, and her chin sported a bruise caused by her SUV's steering wheel.

Doctors operated on both feet Friday night, Hessler said, adding that they have told her she will require at least two more surgeries and remain in the hospital at least one week.

Hessler, a former Standard-Times copy editor, said she remembers little of the collision - except that she was driving uphill outside Llano, then she was braking hard.

Wilde, 16, had sat in the back seat so she could rest more easily, Hessler said.

"I couldn't turn around, but I heard Kate whimpering in the back," she said. "I just pictured her legs looking like mine. She's just the perfect little athlete, and she's only a sophomore. ... Thank God we were in that Suburban, or neither of us would have made it."

Wilde also was on Wall's state runner-up girls basketball team this spring.

Hessler's colleagues at the academic competition described her as a hard worker - even when incapacitated.

"When I saw her," said Wall UIL computer coach Kirby Rankin, "she had the morphine pump in her hand, and she was asking us to bring her yearbook proofs to go over."

Erin Quinn reported from Austin.

© 2006, San Angelo Standard-Times. All Rights Reserved.

There's also this picture of him on the ASU website.

It seems so strange to read an article like that about someone that you know and love.

My dad called about an hour ago. As always, my heart skips a beat to hear my dad's voice so late at night, as every single time I'm sure that he's calling to give me the sad news that my Granny has passed away. I was wrong tonight, but in a horrible way, I was almost right.

My Uncle Terry was killed in a car crash this evening. My Aunt Edith had just called my dad, and he wasn't able to give me many more details because it is all so sudden. They think he might have had a heart attack, but nothing is known for certain. When my dad told me, "Uncle Terry has just been killed," I was able to stammer out, "What happened?!" As he filled me in, however, I couldn't come back from my pause, and I felt the air just sucked out of me. I didn't know what to say.

I am so crushed. My Uncle Terry was such a likeable guy. He was always so quiet, so calm - it was hard to ever feel like I really got to know him, but I loved the him that I did know. I found his dry humor appealing as I grew up, but the thing that stands out most when I think of my Uncle Terry is a story from my childhood.

My dad's family always had great big Thanksgiving get-togethers at my Aunt Mary Jo's house in Lubbock, Texas. We filled the house, and my cousins and I would squish in together in the floor spaces while my aunts and uncles and parents would occupy the bedrooms. One night I was having trouble sleeping, and I got out of my sleeping bag to use the bathroom. I never made it to the bathroom, for when I passed the study, I was shocked to see the silhouette of Terry sitting in Uncle Porter's desk chair. He wasn't just sitting, though - he was staring up towards the ceiling, and he was full-on HOWLING AT THE MOON. I swear by it! I ran back to my sleeping bag as fast as my legs could carry me, and I cried when I told my parents the next morning what I'd seen. Of course, my family always laughed at and loved this story, knowing it couldn't be true. For at least a few years there, I gave my 'Werewolf' Uncle Terry a wide berth and hugged him stiffly at hellos and goodbyes. As the years went on, however, I also came to see the ridiculousness of my claim and realized my "vision" to be nothing more than a dream or crazy sleep-walking.

But I absolutely broke down tonight when my dad tried to say offhandedly, "Well, I guess he won't be howling at the moon anymore."

...

Uncle Terry really was such a quiet man. I remember him always grading papers in a corner of the room while the rest of the family was loud and raucous. The times where we were able to pull him into our games resulted in some of the best memories. Who in our family could forget Terry's stick-man version of "depressed" in a game of Pictionary? Who could forget his strange laugh (almost howlish, even!)? How could I not remember the long hours he played in Monopoly with my dad, my cousin Trenton and me?

I'm sure my cousins Jenny and Trenton are devastated right now. I'm sure that my Aunt Twila is in shock. Jenny just had her second baby two months ago, and I can't imagine losing my dad and having to look into my baby's eyes and knowing he wouldn't see my kids grow up. Poor Trenton just married last year, and now his unborn children will never have a chance to meet their wonderful grandpa.

As always happens when a family member dies, I start berating myself for not talking to them more, not writing them more letters. I still have a small pile of pictures and letters to send out from April, and my hand shook as I turned the scrap of paper over, afraid to see the names 'Terry and Twila' on my list of "yet-to-be-sent" photos... thankfully - oh, thankfully - their names are already crossed off, meaning that they would have received my last letter about two weeks ago. I hope that Uncle Terry took a moment to read it, as I'm heartbroken that it's the last thing I ever had a chance to say to him.

I've been crying now for the last solid hour, and Philip came home for a brief time from work. He's just gone back, and now I sit here - wondering what I should be doing next. :-(

After dinner and bath tonight, we all played 'Sound Bingo' for about an hour. All of us, and it was so much fun! I bought this game from Do-Re-Mi & You® almost a year ago now, but it was still shrink-wrapped until tonight. I had thought that it would be a bit difficult for the boys, but man - was I wrong! They played it just fine, and it was such a hoot to watch them dance to the sounds as they laid their chips down. Until tonight, my favorite part of playing bingo had always been hopping the chips across the floor. ;-)

I've been working on pictures most of the day, and I've got all but one folder uploaded right now. Once I get this last one done, I'll post a link (since chelelev has asked so nicely *wink*).