Don't know of specific - but you might consider one of the groups who help with the blind (Dorothy has macular degeneration really bad = like your grandma) or the Boy Scouts of America (Marvin was a great supporter).
I know this is long for blog but I feel it is appropriate. This is Dick's article for this week and I wanted to be sure you each got to read it.
"For Marv: I was in my van driving along the river when I spotted an Eagle sitting on a tree branch watching for some kind of action on the water. I have seen this same bird on several occasions and have come to understand the routine he follows while fishing. He never seemed to be in a hurry, and never took time to brag about how great a fisherman he was or how well he could pronounce the strange names of the bugs and things that lived in the water. He would just sit there watching, and waiting for the tell tale signs of fish feeding on the surface of the river. When the time was right and the fish spotted, he would lift off his perch and soar high in the air, turn, and coast past his target. Then with a grace that I can’t describe, he would extend his talons and pluck a fish from the water without so much a leaving a ripple. Like most fisherman after a good catch, he would fly up and down the river hoping that someone might notice, even if there was no one around to see. Today he just sat there. Even when I stopped and got out of the van he refused to fly away. I looked up and him, he looked down on me, and for a brief moment we connected and recognized each others existence. Somehow I think we both knew that our moment together was special, and wanted to enjoy it for as long as we could, but knew it would come to an end. Growing up, I can’t remember not being around fishermen. I remember standing on the bank of Warm River watching my brother Marv silently watching for the signs that would let him know when to start casting his line. He told me to watch for the swallows that lived under the bridge to come out and start darting around just above the surface of the water. He explained they would be eating the little bugs that hatch on the bottom, then swim to the surface and try to fly away. “The swallows will tell you when it’s time to start fishing,” he would say. Marv would show me where something made little wakes in the rivers flow. “That’s a rock,” he said, “rocks are hard and easy to trip over, but if you’re careful, they will tell you where the fish are hiding.” I knew he wasn’t just talking about river rocks, but about the rocks we find in the river life. That’s how it was with Marv. While thoughts of my brother and fishing were bouncing around in my head, the Eagle lifted off his perch and made another pass over the river as if taking one last look and then silently flew upstream until he was out of site. We will miss you brother!"
Mom just gave me another idea for donations. St. Jude's hospital. Apparently one of Marvin & Dorothy's great granddaughters has had cancer. The donation could be made for both.
thanks for posting dad's article. It made me sad but happy at the same time. Travel safe and give all the family hugs! I wish I could make it to Omaha but I will be there in spirit.
4 Comments:
Don't know of specific - but you might consider one of the groups who help with the blind (Dorothy has macular degeneration really bad = like your grandma) or the Boy Scouts of America (Marvin was a great supporter).
I know this is long for blog but I feel it is appropriate. This is Dick's article for this week and I wanted to be sure you each got to read it.
"For Marv: I was in my van driving along the river when I spotted an Eagle sitting on a tree branch watching for some kind of action on the water. I have seen this same bird on several occasions and have come to understand the routine he follows while fishing.
He never seemed to be in a hurry, and never took time to brag about how great a fisherman he was or how well he could pronounce the strange names of the bugs and things that lived in the water. He would just sit there watching, and waiting for the tell tale signs of fish feeding on the surface of the river.
When the time was right and the fish spotted, he would lift off his perch and soar high in the air, turn, and coast past his target. Then with a grace that I can’t describe, he would extend his talons and pluck a fish from the water without so much a leaving a ripple.
Like most fisherman after a good catch, he would fly up and down the river hoping that someone might notice, even if there was no one around to see.
Today he just sat there. Even when I stopped and got out of the van he refused to fly away. I looked up and him, he looked down on me, and for a brief moment we connected and recognized each others existence. Somehow I think we both knew that our moment together was special, and wanted to enjoy it for as long as we could, but knew it would come to an end.
Growing up, I can’t remember not being around fishermen. I remember standing on the bank of Warm River watching my brother Marv silently watching for the signs that would let him know when to start casting his line. He told me to watch for the swallows that lived under the bridge to come out and start darting around just above the surface of the water. He explained they would be eating the little bugs that hatch on the bottom, then swim to the surface and try to fly away. “The swallows will tell you when it’s time to start fishing,” he would say.
Marv would show me where something made little wakes in the rivers flow. “That’s a rock,” he said, “rocks are hard and easy to trip over, but if you’re careful, they will tell you where the fish are hiding.” I knew he wasn’t just talking about river rocks, but about the rocks we find in the river life. That’s how it was with Marv.
While thoughts of my brother and fishing were bouncing around in my head, the Eagle lifted off his perch and made another pass over the river as if taking one last look and then silently flew upstream until he was out of site.
We will miss you brother!"
Mom just gave me another idea for donations. St. Jude's hospital. Apparently one of Marvin & Dorothy's great granddaughters has had cancer. The donation could be made for both.
thanks for posting dad's article. It made me sad but happy at the same time. Travel safe and give all the family hugs! I wish I could make it to Omaha but I will be there in spirit.
*sniff*
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