Editor's notes: The following is a special edition of the POBB and is sent to us by Rory, who sends us stories from

time to time.

   I thought I would send a happy e-mail to the POBB.  Last weekend my only granddaughter got married. 

It was a most heartrending occasion.  This especially so because she was married at the Art Club in Mill

Valley which originally was a dance hall where my dear husband and I danced in the late 40's and early

50's.  Further, he graduated from Tamalpias High School which is located in Mill Valley.  The Outdoor

Art Club has, of course, been renovated to today's architecture.  I never thought my granddaughter would

be married in the traditional mode.  White dress, bridesmaids, flowers, ushers, and preacher.  It was an

outdoor wedding and the day was sunny and warm.  Of course toasts and speeches were made along with

advice during the sit down dinner.  When it was my turn for the toast and advice I said "I could give you

a multitude of advice but that probably would be similar to pouring water through a sieve, so instead I will

tell you two stories that can serve as advice.  It was a practice of your grandfather and mine to visit our

mothers on a monthly basis.  We  would visit my mother-in-law in San Francisco for a few days, then cross

the Golden Gate Bridge to San Anselmo to visit my mother for another few days.  When we left I suggested

that we visit the children in Chico.  This presented no problem as the grandchildren held a special place in

grandpa's heart.  He consented, however, he stated that it could only be an overnight stay since we were

away from home for almost two weeks and I agreed.  Now in the back of my mind I thought that I could

convince him to stay a few days longer.  We had a lovely overnight stay and the next day, it was getting

close to late afternoon and since it took about two hours to reach our home it was getting time to leave. 

When he said, "well mom, it's time to leave," I said, "oh, can't we stay another day? "No," was his answer

-- "you promised that we would only stay overnight so we have to leave."  I relented, but like a petulant

child, I was thinking of a way to get even. When it was time to retire, my husband always went to bed early.

I, on the other hand, always went to bed later and I thought, "well now I am going to get even and sleep in

the spare bedroom.  When Mike awoke the next morning he noticed that my side of the bed had not been

slept in.  He came into the spare bedroom, pointed his finger at me and said, "You--get out of the bed, get

into our bedroom and don't ever leave our bed again."  I responded with, "what took you so long?"  At

that point we both broke into laughter....the advice of that story?  Never go to bed angry, whatever the

situation and always be forgiving.  The second story relates to hugs.  Whenever I was cooking and Mike

happened to be in the kitchen, he would come up behind me, put his arms about my waist and give me a

hug.  I would shake myself and say, "cut that out, I'm cooking here."  At one time he said to me, "mom,

one day you are going to wish I was behind you giving you a hug."  It's been almost twenty years since I

lost him and those words are etched in my memory forever.  I turned to the couple and said, "Andy always

hug Heather and Heather never turn him away....hugs are like a warm blanket on a cold day.  I hope you

remember these stories."  It was then they both ran up to me, kissed me, and yes, gave me a hug.   Rory  

Dear Rory: We hope you are saving these stories and putting them in a book to leave to your family and friends.    

These are the kinds of memories that mean the most to our descendants.  Long after our wealth and estates have

been divided up and spent, such stories will impact the hearts and minds of our children and grandchildren.  Thank

you, Rory, for sharing with us.