Remembering our Veterans & My Dad

My Dad was a veteran of WWII. He enlisted in the Army and was stationed in Monterey, CA. Then he was sent to Normandy, France when I was 18 months old (in 1944) and returned when I was three. He is my first memory! I can see the airfield he landed on in Marysville, CA, the chain link fence that separated us as my mother lifted me up to see him. He gave me candy and gum and walked along the fence until the gate opening where he then picked me up & carried me to the car.

I have quite a few pictures of him in an album that he made. The first section of the album are his days in the Army and the war with he and his buddies. He used to talk about the guys he met in France during the war and one of them --Bill Cosgrove-- became my Godfather. There was a bond between these men that is like no other. They alone know what they went through, the extent of their dependence upon one another and serving one's country with valor. So today's blog is a tribute to my Dad, Francis B. Glasky, and all the veterans of all the wars that have kept us safe and protected here in America as well as those abroad.

The picture above is of Mont-St-Michel in Normandy, France. My Dad had a watercolor of that in our home. I know it brought him many, many memories of his time fighting for our freedom. Oh, he did get a medal because of his injury in the war: a rat bit his nose while he was asleep!

SCOTTISH LASS & FAVORITE MEMORY

I love my Scottish ancestry!

As a child I heard all the tales of the voyage from Scotland to America, ate the traditional food and desserts of Scotland, loved the brogue my grandparents spoke, and grew up around men playing the bagpipes, lots of singing, dancing, and men in kilts!

My grandfather, James Houston, immigrated to America in 1920, the year my mother was born, his youngest child and only daughter, Sarah. He set off with his cousin Hugh, both bakers, in search of the American Dream. After six years in San Francisco he was ready to go back to Scotland and wrote my grandmother (Mary Thompson Houston) to let her know. She wrote him right back and told him to stay there, we are on our way!! Somehow she packed up her four children and belongings and they set sail, leaving her twin sister and all the relatives behind.

My mother was six and her eldest brother Hugh was 14, Bill was 10 and James was 8. The story goes that they almost lost my mother along the way on the train ride across the United States. Some people had taken her to get her an ice cream and didn't get back in a timely way...they almost missed the train.
They lived on Potrero Hill in San Francisco before moving across the Bay to Oakland where my grandfather opened his own bakery on 35th Avenue. He had the bakery for years and years until he retired. The bakery is where my mother met my father. He liked his sweets and he liked the sweet thing behind the counter as well! They married and I was their first child.

Because my Grandpa didn't drive, my mother would take me and we would go get him everyday and bring him back to his house. I was a tiny little anemic thing so all the bakers were always trying to fatten me up by giving me a chocolate eclair every single day...oh thank you for those early onset of fat cells!

My Dad went off to France during WWII and we lived with my grandparents from the time I was 18 months old until I was three, when he returned. His worst injury was being bitten by a rat (YIKES) and we were grateful he was home safe and sound. My childhood album was done by him, which I just treasure. It was the old black photo album paper and he wrote in white ink. I digress. It was later in life that I realized how cool that really was for a dad in the 40s! I also heard he made my mother sit by the radio and listen to music so I would have a love for music (which I do) and I don't think that really became 'popular' until the 70s!

While my mother and I lived with my grandparents, she went to work every day at Edy's which is Dryer's Ice Cream. She wore a big black bow in her red hair as part of the uniform. I just had a charmed life with my grandparents as my other cousins lived over in San Francisco and I became the favorite! Well my cousin Richard lived in Oakland also but he wasn't about to become a favorite...boy that he was. My grandfather was 'thrifty' as they call it and the lights in the house were not turned on until the street lights outside went on. Those lights outside were also my signal that soon my mother would be walking up the street, coming home from her ice cream duties.

After my dad got back from France he rented a house one block away from my grandparents and there was a wide alley-like place but not dark and dingy like I think of alleys now...it was a cement pathway with grass on either side for passage from my grandparents house to my own new house. I traversed it quite often. I spent lots of overnight visits at my grandparents also which were very fun. In their kitchen they had a kelly table ... you've heard of kelly beds..dropping out of the wall, well their kitchen table did that and then folded back up and doors closed and a nice size kitchen was still there. Late at night they always had tea and scones with jam...but it was too much trouble to take that table down so they pulled out the breadboard and my grandmother covered it with a nice tablecloth and we sat around it and ate our treat and drank our tea. My grandmother, a nice Presbyterian real christian woman, read my tea leaves for fun every night.

We did eat some odd things when I think about it: Tripe, Finnan Haddie (Finnan haddie \Fin"nan had"die\ [See Haddock.] Haddock cured in peat smoke, originally at Findon (pron.f[i^]n"an), Scotland. the name is also applied to other kinds of smoked haddock. [Written also finnan haddock.] They baked that with tons of butter and it was really good, but I don't ever see that in a fish market anymore. We also ate 'mince and potatoes' which was nothing more than hamburger sauteed with onions, add water, cook and serve over mashed potatoes. I loved the Scotch Broth soup,and espeically the meat pies.

Desserts were much more appealing to me though! Besides those eclairs every day, they made batches of shortbread and also tablet, which is is a fudge like candy. Here's the traditional recipe:

Ingredients (for 4 pounds/1.8kg tablet): Butter or margarine - half pound (225g) Sweetened condensed milk - one pound (450g) Castor sugar - 4 pounds (1.8kg) Water - 1 pint (half litre)Method Using a non-stick pan, put the water on a low heat and melt in the butter. Add the sugar and bring to the boil. It is important to keep stirring all the time. Once it is boiling, stir in the condensed milk and simmer for 20 minutes. Again, keep stirring to avoid it sticking/burning. Take off the heat and beat vigorously for five minutes, adding the flavouring of your choice. Pour into a rectangular greased tin and once it is partly cooled, cut into bars (roughly 5 inches long by 1/2 inches wide). Once the tablet is cold, wrap the bars in waxed paper and store in an airtight jar or tin.
EVEN I HAVE MADE THIS AND IT TURNS OUT FINE..castor sugar ... just use superfine sugar.

I can't give you my grandfathers shortbread recipe though,its different than the thousands I have read on line...he had an ingredient that made it special. At Christmas time he would make so many and then wrap them and give them as gifts. My uncle James became a baker and he too continued that tradition. My cousin has the original mold which had a pattern with the thistle image on it. They were about 5 inches across and wonderful. I have also made this shortbread and it turned out just like his! I would love to take it to market someday, but the rules for baking at home are many, far too many; who can afford an industrial kitchen?

Lastly, I want to share my most favorite memory of all. New Year's Day at my Grandparents. First of all, all hustle and bustle of getting ready for New Years...many people would attend...tables and chairs everywhere for everyone. Furniture pushed aside and don't get in the way of anyone!

All my aunts and uncles and cousins were there. Also invited were all the people from Scotland they knew in the area. One lady brought us a Hershey bar every year. It was just a fun-filled delightful day with at least 50 people all laughing and visiting and eating. It did get a bit confusing as a child because many of the men were named Hugh. So many in fact they were categorized and referred to this way: Our Hugh, your Hugh, Wee Hugh, Little Hugh, Big Hugh, etc. LOL We all played bingo and there were prizes of money!

Then the big dinner...but the best part ever was after dinner.... all the lights would go down....there was a swinging door from the kitchen into the living room and dining room....and that door would swing open and my grandmother would have what they called YULE FIGGY PUDDING and it was on FIRE! (bit of rum) then it would burn off and the lights would go back on (All so exciting for we youngkids) and oh yummy the dessert! That just topped off the entire fun day of festivities. Every year this wonderful tradition.

I am blessed to have my memories.

I shall leave you with a couple of Scottish proverbs:
“Never marry for money. You'll borrow it cheaper.”
“Money is flat and meant to be piled up.”
“May God bless you to live as long as you want to; and want to as long as you live!”

Healing

Every morning I receive a wonderful photo devotional from Kenn & Lori Stilger. I've known them online since 1995 or thereabouts. Kenn is a professional photographer, as is Lori, both devoted to Jesus. If you'd like to receive their devotional, write to them at heavnlyphotos@aol.com --(That's one of their photos above. Amazing isn't it!)

Today's devotion had a picture of Mt. St. Helens in Washington State. They spoke of visiting the site and seeing the healing that had begun in the volcano itself and the land nearby. The analogy was that our God is who causes restoration such as that -- as well as healing within us is a great God. Amen to that.

If you Google Images for healing you get quite an array of options for healing. You have salves for healing, crystals for healing, stones for healing, healing centers, pictures of books offered on self-healing, a healing tears necklace, healing essences, healing massage, silent healing, musical healing, healing herbs, olive oil healing and (had I known) healings using grapes! In the hundreds of images I viewed there were three of Jesus; one with a child, one with a body of people and one healing the blind man. All the rest were of self and product. The Great Physician ignored for the most part.

At any rate, as I thought about how God is an awesome God, our healer in matters of the heart and the body. While we prayed for Jeff's healing throughout his ordeal with MS, we were quite aware that God heals physically whom He will for this shelf life of approximately 75 years while here on earth, and yet aware that the reality was the outcome of our prayers would not be what we wanted...Jeff with us for many years to come.

<-------KEVIN, my brother (and Ryan a while back)

God healed my brother of multiple myeloma which was such a beautiful miracle for all of us who love him. His doctor shakes his head, all the people in the cancer center for those years along with my brother Kevin have all passed away from this disease. Kevin never took the chemotherapy which was advised but because he was only given six months to live and there was no guarantee that the chemo would even help, he declined. While Kevin lives with the complications that occurred due to the disease, he lives pretty well and enjoys his wife and children who were 8, 6 and 4 when he was diagnosed. Now Danielle is in college and Christopher and Ryan are in high school!!! We thank the Lord for this incredible healing.

He healed Jeff in a different process...as He took him away from us and to Himself. I know a renewal of Jeff's faith occurred and that's the greatest one a mother could hope for. I will see him again. I quote my friend Jim Wilkinson, who said "You will see Jeff sooner rather than later, Karen!" Talk about comforting me with encouraging words AND telling me I'm old in such a nice way! Ya just have to laugh.

Jeff had been legally and then totally blind in the last couple of years of his journey. For his last eight months he was in the hospital for two and a hospice home for four. We knew we were losing him that weekend...we knew it would only be a couple of days before we would be without him. His coloring had been terrible for the last year, he withered away for the most part, unable to move much, so gaunt and really no color on this once vibrant sun-loving guy.

Well, his friends had made big posters with collages on all three of the 'good ole days' and they took up the length of the bed and were about 3 feet high. Colorful and a great idea so as they visited they talked about the memories they had together. I added pictures of his son, Kevin. But Jeff never saw any of those.

I had read in a hospice book that often the patient will be found looking up as if seeing something, (they feel its a loved one or a group of people they know to help them to the next level, ie. they will die soon). So every time I saw Jeff straining that way I would ask..."What are you looking at, what do you see." He would always say, "Nothing." That last day before he died, his Dad was visiting him, his hospice volunteer buddy, John was there as well when I walked in. We all chatted and Jeff fell asleep. When he woke up we all said hello again and within a few minutes Jeff was looking up at his wall...I asked, "What do you see,Jeff?" His reply was, "It's all colorful there." (he was looking at the wall of photos). He asked what it was and I told him tons of photographs of he and his buddies and his son. All of a sudden I thot: WHAT? He can see that color? I went to the end of his bed and said, "Hey, Jeff. Can you see me down here?" He looked and smiled and said "Oh yea, I can see that blonde hair of yours!" :) TEARS immediately began streaming down my face, tears of joy that his sight was being restored...John was all teary eyed and his Dad just looked dumbfounded.

Eventually his Dad and John left and I took my place next to the bed to sit with my son and visit or pray over him while he slept. He nodded off again. I sat there just looking at my precious most handsome boy who had been such a great son to me...and I realized his color was back in his face! His cheeks were rosy! Then he awoke and we visited and yet again, another odd thing. His eyes had become cloudy from the blindness over the years but at that moment they were as clear as they had ever been. I was so happy to 'see' my son as he had 'been.' Those beautiful green eyes bright and shining. I didn't know what was happening at the time, but have come to realize that God was healing him for his homeward journey. WOW!

He passed away in the early morning the next day; home and fully healed with Jesus. And yes, I'll see him sooner rather than later, and that's fine by me.

I Am The God That Healeth lyrics
Artist - Don Moen
Album - The Best Of Don Moen

I Am The God That Healeth

I am the God that healeth thee

I am the Lord your Healer

I sent My Word and I healed your disease

I am the Lord your Healer

You are the God That healeth me

You are the Lord my Healer

You sent Your Word and You healed my disease

You are the Lord my Healer