Fond Memories of John.
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Uncle John - the man who called me "lass";
Who seemed 10' tall when I looked up as a 5 year-old;
Who told me to "eat your crusts so your hair will curl" (just like his!);
Who let me (thinking he was asleep) paint his face with chocolate some Sunday mornings and yell with surprise when he went to shave - sending me into peals of laughter;
Who, for quite a while, managed to steal chips from my plate whenever they were on the menue;
Who, on some occasions, took me with him for the day in his BIG TRUCK to get sand or blue metal - goodness knows how he put up with the chatter;
Who, on those occasions, fascinated me by waving to other truckies by just lifting his index finger off the steering wheel - they would return the gesture;
Who had a big part in teaching me to drive. He had nerves of steel. At first, I would take both hands off the wheel so I could change gears and give a hand signal - no blinkers then - he never flinched;
Who always had a dance with me at a Cumberland "do";
Who was a grandfather-figure to my children;
Who was very loving and caring.