Cindy’s Grandparents Johnson

 Cindy’s Grandparents Johnson

Cindy’s grandparents lived in a small white house near Mill Run, Pennsylvania. Her grandfather’s name was Truman Johnson. He was a short statured man, built much like my granddad Miner. Truman’s nickname was King and that’s the name by which most people knew him. He loved to laugh, loved his garden, and loved to get his grandkids to comb his hair. He would pay them a nickel to do it. I believe that he worked in the coal mines and was retired by the time I met him. He came from a large family, but supposedly the family moved west leaving him and one brother behind. His brother Henry, owned a carnival and lived near Columbus Ohio. Cindy and her mom would make a trek out to visit him and his family while making a “school-clothes shopping run” to the J.C. Penny outlet.

Cindy’s grandmother was Mabel Agnes Hiltabitel. Her grandmother was Amanda. That is where we got the name for our older daughter Amanda. (One of my great-grandmother’s name was also Amanda.) Mabel also warned us if we used either of her names to name one of our girls, she’d be upset. She was a slender woman who kept her house spotless, but always welcomed people to visit, very friendly and pleasant. She had a candy dish on her dining room table that was filled with those pink, wintergreen flavored lozenges. One thing I never could understand. My wife said that Pepto Bismol made her sick, but she could suck on those wintergreen candies and enjoy them. Mabel had Forsythia bushes that lined her driveway. She would tease my wife saying they were her For-Cynthia bushes.

Her house was not very far from where my father-in-law Bud and Retha lived. Bud always teased that his Mother-in-law snooped on him and he was glad their bedroom was on the opposite side of the house. After Mabel moved to a nursing home, Bud found a pair of binoculars in her kitchen, near the window with the best view of Bud’s house. He said that confirmed that she was watching them. In her defense, there were birds and animals that frequented her backyard. Now the funniest part of this “snooping” story is that when Bud died, he was laid to rest in the cemetery plot right next to Mabel Agnes and his body will spend eternity beside her.

Mabel passed away at the ripe-old age of ninety-three, still loving to have her hair curled and done just-so. We have photos of her with a party hat and a birthday cake of her and her cake on her 90th birthday.

Don't Mind Me

 Don’t Mind Me

Last ewwk for some reason my brain warped and went haywire. I don’t know why or how, but I have to say, I didn’t like it. I know that it was functioning well except for a pause in reality. Wednesday went off normally. I drove to the Chestnut Riddge Gistorical Society and put in the time for my voluneer work. My four hour shift went well and I played nicely with two of my coworkers. We did some paperwork and accomplished some filing duties before lunch.

Lunch was our usual potluck. Each person brings a surprise food and we share. It is rare that two people bring similar foods, but it has happened. Wednesday was an unusual day. All three of us brought sandwich spread and crackers. Two were seafood salads and one chicken salad were our choices. I also had some spare cookies that I brought, so we did have dessert.

Wednesday eveniing was prayer meeting and all went well there.

Thursday I had a meeting with a health insurance agent. My present supplement was due to go up $100.00 per month and that wasn’t something that I could financially handle. That went well and my agent was someone who knew my wife.

Now the warp in my mind begins. I was thinking of going shopping on Thursday, then changed my mind. For some odd reason my brain registered that I could do my shopping on Saturday when I went to the Historical Society to be a docent for my four hour tour. Instead Friday slipped away and my brain thought Saturdday was Friday and didn’t self correct. At 2:39 my brain came back into focus when I got a message on my cell about a men’s gathering that evening. Well, I missed opening the Historical Center. I felt bad that I missed my “tour of Duty,” but there was nothing more I could do.

Then came the rain storm with its powerful winds and the men’s get-together got cancelled. The storm damage caused electriccal blackouts and tree damage blocked some roads, however our church has a generator and the men’s prayer meeting could be held there. Great.

My brain went into another fog-zone. I was watching television and the time slipped away. I was clock watching, but my brain was malfunctioning and misread my analog clock and when I realized that it was too late to go tto the meeting.

I don’t know what happened to cause my brain to short circuit, but it was certainly discouraging.

Daisy, Daisy

 Daisy, Daisy

Daisy, daisy, the daisies are now in bloom. That innocent white petaled posey with a bright yellow center, was my wife Cindy Morrison Beck’s favorite flower. While walking up to my mailbox this afternoon I saw those precious blooms are just now appearing in numbers that are too many to miss. For those who have known me for a long period of time, know that I am frugal, except my children who say I am cheap. I say, why spend more money than you don’t have to?

The best thing about being frugal and having a wife who loved dasisies was that once the wild daisy becan to display their flowers, it cost me nothing more than to spend a few minutes of time to pick a bouquet of them, interspacing them with anyt other wild flowers that were in season to place a surprise bouquet waiting for her when she would come home from teaching at the Mount Zion Christian School. It was an unexpected pick-me-up for her and was easy on the wallet for me.

When she passed away, baskets of daisies surrounded her casket. A daisy bouquet at her feet had three pink rose buds, one for each of our kids, Amanda Beck Yoder, Andrew Beck, and Anna E. Prinkey. At her head was another basket of daisies with a single yellow rose from her mom Retha Johnson Morrison. There was a large spray that was placed on the top of the lid of the casket from me.

The coincidence of the blooming daisies and an event that happened yesterday brought these thoughts to mind. Because my supplemental health insurance rate increased nearly $100.00 per month was stunned. Me being exceptionally frugal was shocked at the tremendous rate of increase.

I decided it waas time to seek another choice in health insurance supliment to my Medicare. I made an appointment to meet with a health insurance agent. When I met my agent, I was surprised to find out that Cindy had her as a student. My agent only had nice things to say about Cindy. I shared about Cindy’s diagnosis and death from ovarian cancer. So, the convergence of the two thoughts congealed and pushed me to create todays blog.

Addictionss

Addictions

Addictions appear in many shapes and sizes and in a variety of guises. Some are disguised as hobbies or minor distractions. But anything that creeps into a life and eats up the precious time a person has left to live on earth could be labeled an addiction. Television, the internet, Facebook, on line games, pornography, drugs, alcohol, even food can supplant the necessary temperance in a person’s life.

Many people were wondering why I stayed away from Facebook without responding in my usual warped sense of humor to Facebook postings. It was because another friend issued a challenge to me. He suggested that I avoid the venue of Facebook for a day. It was for an entirely different reason than an addiction, but none-the-less, I accepted.

Because I uncoupled myself from the computer, I was able to go to the Chestnut Ridge Historical Society and put in 4 hours of sorting and storing maps, photos, and newspaper articles. I wasn’t able to thoroughly review the many interesting things that passed before my eyes, but I was surprised at the variety and depth of the small number of things that I processed.

War photos by Jack Pletcher, deeds, proclamations, interesting articles on local crimes, local heroes, school pictures, and a steady progression of maps showing the expanding towns and the dividing of the land into townships over the centuries, all passed through my hands.

As a child, I loved to snoop into the drawers of the old, dark oak bureau in my Grandmother Rebecca Miner’s dining room. The drawers were filled with hair swatches, pencils, fountain pens, hair pins, small and many other amusing things. Most of these items were nearly worthless, but seemed remarkable in my small fingers and fascinating. I was also intrigued with a pair of lamps with dangling crystal prisms that sat on the bureau creating rainbows to dance on the ceiling.

A similar feeling of nostalgia poured over me as I sorted through boxes at the Historical Society filled with unknown treasures. My childhood curiosity returned seeing these reminders of the history of yesteryear. It was a wonderful to feel the reemergence of those youthful feelings.

All of this was said to share that I felt much freer, away from the addicting quality of Facebook. It was a cleansing of sort; a purging of my soul. Perhaps I can now limit the time I spend on line and avail myself to the task of writing more, praying, and reading my Bible. I need to allow my creativeness to be freed. My next challenge is to limit my time time watching the boob-tub and its continual attempt to dumb me down and the American public.

 

Kisses

 Kisses

Kisses, we’ve all had them from infancy up. Hershey kisses are sweet, but not as sweet as the pressing of lips. All show a degree of intimacy and love, from the peck on the cheek to the near tongue swallowing passionate ones. Kisses vary from the wet, sloppy ones given by aunts and grandmothers to the dry cheek rubbing kisses from a brother or sister. Prints of lipstick may mark territories claimed.

Sometimes there are just hugs without the kisses, but hugs may be more intimate and deeper than the kiss. When a friend or relative is in pain, sorrow, or grief, a shoulder to cry on is so unbelievably comforting. Sharing the tears and a long embrace will reach beyond the brief meeting of lips. It reaches from heart to heart, soul to soul. The tenderness of a kiss cannot reach to the very core of each person involved like the sharing of a hug.

A kiss sometimes takes more than it gives, but the very nature of a hug, the closeness of the embrace gives more than it gets or at the very least a equal sharing of emotion. The give and take allows the lessening of pain or sadness by the giving of support and a willingness to help and comfort. The hug says, “I am here. Let me help” the person in distress is able to release some of the frightening emotion that is the cause of the problem.

An embrace can also allow a person to share joy and happiness. When the elation threatens to bubble over, it becomes absolutely necessary to grab another person and allow them to become a part of that blessing in your life. The joy that is felt by one is heightened by the sharing with another.

Share a kiss; share a hug, share a bit of yourself with someone else. Give someone a reason to smile.

Jumbles

 Jumbles

I’m not thinking of any idea that I can stretch into a blog post so I will write any thoughts that tumble out of my brain as they surface. The one at the foremost is the word pardon. It was the word that was at the center ofour Sunday evening’s message. The word pardon at its minimum has a meaning that is just an “excuse me” when I bump into someone or reach in front of another with the meaning “excuse me.” Then we shift to pardon me when we say something that we shouldn’t as in “pardon my French.” At the maximum, the meaning of pardon is if we commit a crime or if we should sin and ask to be pardoned from punishment for an act that we have commited. There is a human bracket when we should ask to be pardoned by a human judge and jury or the maximum of asking to be pardoned by our eternal Father God.

The human pardon may leave a paper trail that will haunt us for the rest of our lives; while the pardon by God is a forgiveness that ccompletely blots away the sinful act and appears to never have happened.  “Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red as crimson, they shall be as wool. (Isaiah 1:18)

Our church has an intern for the summer. His name is Joshua and is visiting from college in Indiana. He’s asked our men to form a choir to sing for Father’s Day. Sunday evening was our first attempt to sing together and we didn’t sound too bad.

Last evening I checked my blood sugar and it was low. It will usually hover near 100 to 110 and I tolerate that quite well. Sunday night after church, just before I go to bed it is the time that I usually check my blood sugar. I was surprised to find that it was only 69. I didn’t feel any symptoms of shakiness, weaknesss, or dizziness, but was fearful that It might drop lower. I ate a Reese’s cup then went to the kitchen for something to snack on. (I always keep some kind of candy upstairs in case of an emergency. Reese’s cup was my in-case-of-emergency candy last night.)

The snack was several crackers, 2 cheese sticks, and a beef jerky stick. By the time I finished my slower-to-digest and longer lasting snack, my hands were shaking so delayed my evening insulin. It is a long acting medication and using it so close to my low blood sugar should be okay. My morning blood sugar was 99 and I’m still alive.

Supplemental Blues

 Supplemental Blues

Several days ao I received a notification letter from my supplemental health isurance company that they are raising my rates, As of July 1st, 2026 the cost will be nearly $100.00 more per month. The rates were just raised not too long ago. I called the company and was shuffled around after listening to a plethora of menu selections. The menu passed me off to one menu to another with vaguee choices until I finally was able to speak to a human representative. I found that encounter frustrating and unfruitful. I wasted nearly forty-five minutes. The representative shared that the increase was necessary to cover costs. She said that under my policy, they must pick up the costs that Social Security doesn’t cover.

I teasingly asked if the increase in pricing was due to President Trump’s tariffs or whether it was due to the price of oil. She was not amused and rsther stiffy went into a spiel tto explain that it was necessary because they paid for the scraps leftover from my Social Security health plan.

Other than removing the flannel sheets from my bed, washing them, and hanging them outside to dry, I spent most of the morning speaking with other health insurers on the phone trying to find less costly insurance to cover my health needs. The health coverage I have now, even with the major price increase doesn’t cover vision or dental benefits.

I thought with the brand loyalty the representative would want to keep a customer who faithfully paid their premiums for over twenty years. I was wrong. If I expressed my concern to my present insurance company, why don’t they suggest a lower priced health plan, even though the substitute plan might either had a co-pay or offer less areas of coverage. So I was off wandering through other companies, their endless menus, and listening to the pre-recorded consumer’s rights, before that representative could share information from their company. What a wonderful day I had and by bedtime I had muscle tightness in my shoulder and a headache. Today I woke with the same muscle tension headache. What a wonderful way to start the day.