Memories from Connie Younts Bringman 2003
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THE C.L. YOUNTS/MILDRED GALLAWAY YOUNTS LEGACY When I think of my parents, the memories come back to me in small fragments that were sealed away in my mind to be opened only when I was brave enough to face the extreme loss and intense joy that thinking about them invokes. I can't share my exact feelings with you. They are too deep, and, as Scott taught me, trying to express something that you feel deeply, is often cheapened when you try to explain it. So, I'll just share the fragments and you can fill in your own memories and they'll blend together with mine as a loving tribute to OUR legacy: DADDY Baiting a trotline with P & G soap on a winter day at Mathis Lake just Daddy and me Cranking the old Johnson Outboard motor Learning to ski George, Pots, Pete, The Colonel "My girls" Tomato Plants "Get those yard clippers!" Barbeque sauce with a lemon half floating in it Learning to drive a car or a dirt road at Pete's The wink Helping Nanny Vera Roses Riding in the back of his pickup truck The smell of Champlin gasoline Red rags The bird house Laughter Friendship Masculinity High Expectations Not perfect Real Walking when he had cancer because his grandson thought it might help him Never give up My hero MOTHER Special oven fried chicken when I got home from college just because it was my favorite. A pink and white dress that she sewed for me Respect and love for her parents Hating to have her picture taken Covering her grin with her hand when she heard an off-color joke Cleaning, ironing, scrubbing floors on her hands and knees Goulash Flowerbeds Shoes lined up on the bathroom cabinet freshly polished for Sunday School Having my face cleaned with a little spit before going into church Music playing on the radio as she cleaned house "Which room do you want to clean?" (As if we had a choice) Hot Rolls rising in the kitchen A quiet house at night, one light on in the den, Mother reading Being covered up at night even when I was grown Her voice as she sang: Put Your Little Shoes Away Poetry: The little toy dog was covered in dust But sturdy and staunch he stands The little toy soldier was covered with rust The musket molds in his hands Time was when the little toy dog was new And the soldier was passing fair This was the time when the Little Boy Blue Kissed them and put them there Now don't you go 'til I come he said And don't you make any noise And toddling off to his trundle bed He dreamt of the pretty toys And while dreaming an angel came And awakened our Little Boy Blue And the years are many and the years are long But our little toy friends are true. Knowing what we thought and felt Sensitivity Worrying Understanding Putting a wet cloth on my head and Vick's on my chest as she stayed up all night with me when I was sick Kindness Strength Angel In honor of Mildred and C.L. Younts: written by their oldest daughter Connie Younts Bringman on July 30, 2003. The lives that they lived with love is our legacy.