Ann and I went to the garage sales today--as we do every Friday.  Breakfast first.  We talked about our fathers.  They were both such wonderful men.  Ann and I were raised by both of our families--we lived down the street from each other.  Both of our mothers (sisters) were bossy.  We toed the line with both of them.  Both of our fathers were thoughtful and kind and made life bearable. 

I guess it took all four of them to raise us.  I know both of us are grateful for the parents we had.  Both sets.  It never occurred to me that Ann's parents weren't in charge of me.  I just thought I had two sets of parents.

All of them were exemplarily Christian people.  The two of us grew up with a charmed childhood and everyday give thanks for it.

The only friction was between my mom Margie and Ann's dad Cleo.  They both claimed Ann's mom Ruby as their own.  My dad was the peacemaker in the family.  He didn't ever get ruffled.  

I have a picture of Ann's mom and mine walking down main street in Ft. Smith.  They are smiling dressed to the nines.  My mom had just found out she was pregnant with me.  It would be seven more years before Ruby had Ann.  She couldn't seem to carry a baby to term.  So when Ann was born, looking at her in her mom's arms was like looking at the Madonna and child.  Ruby never had another child.