Two Dad Stories

I always loved going to Portland, Oregon to visit my Grandma Owen, and to spend time at my Uncle Bob & Aunt Ruth Owen's house, also in Portland, and my Aunt Lois & Grant Gibson's house in Hillsboro, outside of Portland. (About 220 miles from where we lived in Richland, Washington.)

My mom, Eileen on left, Uncle Bob, Aunt Lois, 

with Grandma Owen in front, 1964

One of the favorite things I remember about Uncle Bob's house was playing with my much older cousins' Barbies. They were the early Barbies that looked different than the ones I played with at home plus they had such unique accessories. And I don't mean things to wear. Just cool stuff.

Vintage Barbie, 1959

At the Gibson's one of my favorite memories is of their huge cherry tree in the front yard, and sitting in it to pick cherries and eating most of them as I went. I can't eat a Bing cherry without thinking of summer vacations spent there.

Anyway, for Father's Day I have two stories. One at Uncle Bob's and the other at Aunt Lois's.

On one visit (maybe I was 7 or 8) I developed a painful earache while we were staying at my Uncle Bob's house. I remember being put to bed in an upstairs room and my dad and Uncle Bob laid their hands on my head and gave me a priesthood blessing. I fell asleep soon after and in the morning I felt all better. I'm sure I received other blessings as a child but this is the one that stands out in my memory because I remember such a feeling of peace surrounding the event. And when I woke in the morning, pain-free, it made an indelible impact that I have never forgotten.

When I was 8 or 9 years old we did a trade with the Gibsons. Me and my sister Robin went to spend two weeks at my cousins, and my two favorite cousins went to our house. (I call them my favorite because they were closest to my age--Dan was just older, Evan just younger. They are also the two that I have had the most contact with since becoming an adult and the only cousins of mine your Ipson parent has met. Also, they are amazing people. Side note: they happen to be the only boys in a family of ten siblings--they had 8 sisters!)

Gibersons, Gibsons, and Owens in front of the cherry tree, 1966.

That's me toward the right side in front, with Danny on the left and Evan on the right.

Anyway, this is my second "Dad" story, so I will continue...

As mentioned I always loved spending time at my cousins' house, and this time was no exception, but I will never forget what happened when that two weeks was over and my family came to pick us up. All I remember is they arrived, the front door opened, and there was my dad standing there and I just started crying. I was so happy to see him, and he came right in and hugged me tight. In those two weeks I hadn't realized how much I missed my parents and my brothers and sisters. In that hug I felt such a sense of LOVE and HOME. 

I think it's true that there really is no place like home, and there's no place like your very own family.