“What in the world is going on here?”

That, or something like it, was my exclamation when I saw the mess Thursday morning created by our black, Labradore Retriever, Allie, who sees herself as queen of our environment. In other words, everything I “think” is mine, is really hers unless she doesn’t want it and then it’s mine.

As a matter of fact, since she came to live with us in 1995 carried into the house in my sister’s handbag, she’s destroyed my Ryrie Study Bible containing 20 years’ worth of notes, the handle on my Dooney & Bourke purse, my kitchen wallpaper, an oak coffee table, an oak rocking chair, my den carpet, my hallway carpet and various other selected areas of carpet that have lured her into pulling it up or chewing it into oblivion. Numerous Polly Pocket and Barbie accessories have also fallen victim to the carnage.

Allie has been a wonderful member of our family, helping to raise grand children from the cradle and serving as a loyal friend. Her 70-pound stature can be imposing when standing between a sleeping child and anything else. Throughout her life, she’s found it her job to stand watch whenever sleeping babies are in the house, and for five years, it was her nightly station to sleep across the foot of our daughter’s bed or in the doorway of her room until Jamie left for college.

Allie has grown up with one of our adopted grandchildren, Raigan, for whom “Allie, out!” was one of her earliest phrases. It was never unusual to turn a corner in our house and catch a glimpse of Raigan lying on her back to watch a favorite children’s video with her head resting on Allie who was curled up around her.

With that kind of history, I guess I can overlook Wednesday morning when the mess I found was the remains of my lunch. She had dug it out of my bag while I was getter ready to go to work. She ate my hard-boiled eggs, shells and all, as well as the plastic bag they were in. I’ll have to find a higher spot for my lunch from now on.

One of my Christmas gifts this year was a mother-daughter calendar — one of those flip-style stand-up versions. It’s called “365 treasured moments for Mothers & Daughters.”
And who was my gift from? My sweet daughter, of course.

When I flipped the page for Jan. 6, I read a quote from Hans Christian Andersen: “Most of the people who will walk after me will be children, so make the beat keep time with short steps.” I love this quote. My first thought was to share it with my friends.

I think we get busy into our day-to-day lives, which seem to be more challenging every day. We get focused on making enough money to pay our bills and save enough to live on after the age of 65. Some of us might refer to it as the rat race and others, like my husband, call it the war zone. He also refers to Dallas traffic in the same way.

We seem to get so busy, we forget about the young eyes watching us. Whether we are parents or grandparents, we have youngsters trying to keep up with, emulate or learn from us and this is what we overlook.

Our children are learning how to parent from the way we parent. They are learning how to treat their wives and husbands from what they see in us.

I know there are times, while raising my children (now grown), when I didn’t set aside enough time to spend with them while they were young. Even so, I sometimes recognize myself in some of their actions and, oddly enough, I see some of my parents as well.

I guess that’s just the way families work. We don’t need to over-think this — just be ourselves while remembering our children and grandchildren are watching and trying to keep up. I think Andersen was on the right track in suggesting we make our way easy to follow — easy enough for youngsters to grasp.

Today (Thanksgiving) is my father’s birthday, and if still on this earth, he would be turning 100.

I’m not sure if he ever thought he might reach 100 but he often said, “Getting old is no picnic, but it’s better than the alternative.”

Today, families are gathering around the dinner table for a traditional feast of turkey and trimmings while others take a less traditional approach to include a menu of family favorites. If it’s anything like my family, they’ll each say something for which they’re thankful this year.

What I usually say is something like, being thankful for my faith and family and a free country. This year I’m thankful for my parents and all they’ve invested in me.

My father, Joseph Montry, was a “jack of all trades.” He was one of those guys who could truly do just about anything with his hands. He could fix or build anything, and he could talk your ear off. He was a people person and, though he never finished the eighth grade in formal education, he never stopped learning. He was one of the top managers at the National Supply Company in Gainesville and provided a comfortable life for his family. I always thought that was remarkable. He made sure each of his children had every education opportunity they wanted.

I still have vivid memories of him sitting in “his” chair, usually reading a book. It was the highlight of many a grandchild to sit in the chair with Papa. He demonstrated untold patience with each grandchild, and it wasn’t hard to see, he loved them deeply.

I bring this up to point out we are each a product of what our parents have instilled in us. I learned from my dad how to work on a car’s engine and how to build things. I realize now, his investment in me gave me a sense of confidence and made me believe I could do whatever I put my mind to.

My dad was also patriotic and taught me to appreciate what the sacrifice of others has provided for me.

So, today, I say thanks to the military men and women standing in the gap for our freedom. Also, “Thank you, Daddy, and happy birthday.” And to all of you, “Happy Thanksgiving.”

My father-in-law went home to be with the Lord more than 10 years ago — gone but not forgotten. He was born and raised in Whitesboro where some older residents may remember him by the moniker “Big Boy.”

One of the things I loved about him was his eternal optimism. For as long as I’ve known him and probably for most of his life on earth, John Godwin never passed a pay phone without checking to see if there was change in the change slot waiting to be claimed. There’s no telling how much money he garnered in his lifetime by doing that very thing. Our family still finds joy in remembering his funny quirks, of which there were many, to keep us entertained.
My brother-in-law may have found the most fun in remembering John’s habits recently, and to our laughter, he called to share the experience.

Johnnie Godwin is my husband’s older brother. A Baptist preacher by trade, an author and consultant. Entering his name in the Internet’s Google search engine will reveal a few of his accomplishments. He spent a career with the Sunday School Board which is the official publisher for the National Baptist Convention and is located in Nashville.

Johnnie seems to be enjoying retirement and has even written a book about how to do that. Though retired, he’s still busy with speaking engagements and consulting jobs across the U.S.
He called to tell us he was walking through an airport and spied a pay phone. We don’t seem to see pay phones much anymore. I guess the burgeoning cell phone market has cut into their marketability.

Anyway, brother Johnnie thought of his dad when he saw that pay phone and couldn’t resist sticking a finger into the coin-return slot. To his shock and amazement, he withdrew three quarters and a penny.

Is there a lesson here? I think it’s “never doubt someone’s positive thinking.”