The Howell Blessings

Six years ago, my family said good-bye to one of my closest friends, my mom. It never should have happened and possbily could have been prevented. Mom died from complications from a heart attack that was brought on by poor health. She always made sure to tell everyone to take care of themselves, yet didn't heed her own advice. Mom was such a beautiful little girl. Times were tough for mom as a girl being raised on a farm, but her love for her brothers, and much later in her life her two little sisters, made her happy. Mom (Barbara Jean), Richard (Dick) and Lee Music In August of 1955 my grandmother Music entered Mom into the Ross County Fair Queen's beauty pagent. Mom wasn't too pleased with this idea but went along with it anyway. What a beauty she is here at the young age of 17. By now, mom had met the love of her life, my dad. On September 8, 1956 Barbara Jean Music married Damon Duane Shaw. I remember playing in her wedding shoes when I was a girl. Mom confided in me

Our summer flowers are the social butterflies of our neighborhood. They are putting on their finest attire and making their appearances everywhere. Below are two of our little socialites that refuse to be wall flowers. They are out front catching everyone's eye as they pass by. Our deep pink Roses are Knock Outs! These simple beauties are triplets from the Daisy family. I couldn't resist taking these pretty posies pictures just after they had showered. They didn't need any make-up, their natural beauty shines through. Flowers... are a proud assertion that a ray of beauty outvalues all the utilities of the world. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson, 1844

Like most young girls, I craved my dad's attention and reveled in it when I got it. I remember early always knowing that I was special in his eyes. Mom used to tell me I was his princess and I always felt like a princess when I was on his lap. It felt like it was just me and him alone even with everyone else around. He rarely told me I couldn’t do the same things the boys did, and encouraged my willingness to try anything. He recycled before recycling was popular. Dad was a man who could carry body parts to the hospital, yet turned pale white when I busted my lip on the back of my brother’s head. Things I recall with fond memories: Painting by the window in his bedroom Shooting guns and rifles in the back yard His prescence in his police uniform That stoic stance for all pictures Pepsi and potato chips in the recliner watching TV Being told that same Pepsi would “rust our pipes”. Hammer, saw, sawdust, wood plane, sawhorses Tickling sessions Head butting sessions (when we were naug

My brother Rick and I went down to southern Ohio for a high school alumni banquet on May 8th. We stayed with our Dad, and our sister Laurie, at their house in the same town we grew up in before our entire family moved away in 1975. After many life choices that took each of us our separate ways through out the last 35 years, all but my brother Tim have made our way back to “the Motherland” as Tim lovingly refers to the state we grew up in. Rick wanted to visit some old friends that neither of us had seen since we moved away so long ago. We spent several hours at the home of one friend, Rick E and his mother Eva. We have fond memories of this family. Eva worked in the school cafeteria for many, many years, and was mother to all the kids she fed. Occasionally she added extra servings for those she knew didn’t eat any other time except for the school lunch. She would also discipline some of the kids as if they were her own, scolding and giving an occasional whack on the rear end if needed.