We met you when my sister brought you home from Florida College in 1975. An Oregonian beginning to make his mark on Texans. My sister was smitten, and the rest of us soon fell in line. Your outrageous sense of humor and wealth of literary knowledge made for a great friend and a sensational brother-in-law. I can picture you strumming a banjo, your hair just a bit shaggy, sitting beside a campfire at the Landrum a-frame. I remember your little apartment in Port Arthur, and I seem to recall a pet gerbil in a plastic ball, careening around the floor...and giving me major creeps. Then, if memory is accurate, you moved your family to a little house in Hull. We spent one wonderful, crowded, noisy Christmas there, 4 adults, 7 kids, and a few horses in the pasture...and several dogs. Later you built the Liberty home, and we spent some happy times there. I remember one late night Trivial Pursuit marathon out in a trailer, the four of us chowing down on Blue Bell, and all of us in awe of your mastery of most things trivial. You introduced us to Tolkien and soon had us reading his books.
The trait I admired most was your support for all of your horsewomen...the women your loved. Whether it was building a new barn or mending fences, clearing pastures...whatever needed doing, you were up for the challenge. You worked cheerfully and were always able to find humor or some life lesson in your work. You seemed to be able to be knee-slapping funny and piercingly philosophical within the context of any conversation. The older you got the more pointed your remarks...choosing your words carefully and thoughtfully getting to the meat of the idea.
You visited our home in Ohio in the early 90's and were obsessed with the black silhouettes leaning on many of the fences and trees...a hobo of sorts with a hat tipped down over his face. You quickly gave these yard decorations the label of "lazy micks", and even wrote a story about one such character. Your imagination always seemed to be at full throttle.
My last visit with you was last August. You were doting on Dianne, doing most of the housework, so she could heal from her broken wrist. Thanks for telling us about the meteor shower; she and I had a super time lying in your drive way oohing and ahhing over every shooting star. It was very Jim Bobbish of you to know about that and suggest we watch. I remember asking you if you were an elder in your congregation and being surprised that you were not. I do believe, however, that you really were one, but had just not been officially named to that service. The fruit of the spirit was evident in your life and the lives of your daughters...and their husbands...and early signs were in your grandchildren. Your legacy is your loving and Godly family...two generations that reflect yours and Dianne's values.
We will miss you terribly. We are disappointed that we will not be growing old together. That would have been a treat! The alternative is pretty great, too...having our friendship last for eternity. But just now we are having a hard time focusing on that and just keep thinking about fishing in the pond, feeding chickens, tending the garden, and the simple pleasures we enjoyed with you.
Your daughters will do a great job taking care of their mom, but you know that. I will do my best to spend time with Dianne as often as I can, and I know we will speak of you frequently. I know we will laugh again.
We love you, Jim Bob.
The trait I admired most was your support for all of your horsewomen...the women your loved. Whether it was building a new barn or mending fences, clearing pastures...whatever needed doing, you were up for the challenge. You worked cheerfully and were always able to find humor or some life lesson in your work. You seemed to be able to be knee-slapping funny and piercingly philosophical within the context of any conversation. The older you got the more pointed your remarks...choosing your words carefully and thoughtfully getting to the meat of the idea.
You visited our home in Ohio in the early 90's and were obsessed with the black silhouettes leaning on many of the fences and trees...a hobo of sorts with a hat tipped down over his face. You quickly gave these yard decorations the label of "lazy micks", and even wrote a story about one such character. Your imagination always seemed to be at full throttle.
My last visit with you was last August. You were doting on Dianne, doing most of the housework, so she could heal from her broken wrist. Thanks for telling us about the meteor shower; she and I had a super time lying in your drive way oohing and ahhing over every shooting star. It was very Jim Bobbish of you to know about that and suggest we watch. I remember asking you if you were an elder in your congregation and being surprised that you were not. I do believe, however, that you really were one, but had just not been officially named to that service. The fruit of the spirit was evident in your life and the lives of your daughters...and their husbands...and early signs were in your grandchildren. Your legacy is your loving and Godly family...two generations that reflect yours and Dianne's values.
We will miss you terribly. We are disappointed that we will not be growing old together. That would have been a treat! The alternative is pretty great, too...having our friendship last for eternity. But just now we are having a hard time focusing on that and just keep thinking about fishing in the pond, feeding chickens, tending the garden, and the simple pleasures we enjoyed with you.
Your daughters will do a great job taking care of their mom, but you know that. I will do my best to spend time with Dianne as often as I can, and I know we will speak of you frequently. I know we will laugh again.
We love you, Jim Bob.
