Memories of Grandpa

I had some thoughts of Grandpa today as I was cooking up some chili...I used my last 2 jars of his canned tomatoes that he was always so faithful in giving. At the time whenever we saw him he gave us 2 or 3 cases of stewed tomatoes...I thought to myself, we are going to have tomatoes for ever!! Today I was glad that he gave us so many cases because when someone is gone from our presence we only have the memories to hold in our heart & today I felt so glad for that. Maybe as the Holiday's approach it causes me to miss the loved ones that made an impact on my life so I chose to take some quiet time & reflect on the goodness that Grandpa brought into my life. I loved going to visit him in Trenton. His place was always so tidy & had a certain smell that when you left & came to unpack your bags at home the scent lingered. It was great to watch him show us all the things he cared about & he taught me patients to just sit & listen because that is what he wanted...just someone to talk to. He made me laugh when he would always say; well, we better get to bed now it is getting late...just go ahead & sleep in...we will have breakfast when we all wake up! I think he meant when he woke up because the aroma of bacon was always around 7:00 a.m. :) I learned how to cook real eggs from Grandpa...cook the bacon first & then the eggs. Mmm, what a great flavor. We will never forget that M & M bowl that was always full...Micah would always just stand by it & wait for Grandpa to tell him to help himself! When Grandpa moved to York that bowl was a conversation piece...remember mom how he told you to make sure you bought M & M's to put in it before Micah would visit?! :) I loved listening to him tell about the ranch. He sure had a love & passion for that place...which he should have, I am proud of what he accomplished naturally. He left his grandchildren a great example of: don't be afraid to work hard & always keep your name good. I feel so privileged to have been to the ranch & to see the writing..."I'm not moving" carved in the barn!! There are many other things I could share but I know I will lose the attention of the audience so one more thought to close. Grandpa's last days were priceless to me to see him working out his own salvation. I will never forget the last few days with him & seeing the struggle but also feeling the peace. We can be thankful for the time God gives us to work our own experiences out for good.

Happy Holiday's to all of you & thanks for being family.

~Andrea

From Gerry: Today's the Day

Today is Grandpa’s 94^th birthday. I admired how he faced life. My Dad was so fearful of it, of the cost, and the pain. But Grandpa faced it with a “bring it on attitude”. He was a brave soul.

I appreciated, too, that he understood human love and how to express it. That won him many loyal friends. He was a larger-than-life, colorful character!

Love, Mom (Gerry Burgess)

Comments from Thelma 5/30/08

Remembering Grandpa on his Memorial Day birthday. We have all written good memories of Grandpa. But, I would still like to continue remembering the good parts of his life which may have been before some of your time.

As his only daughter, I remember him continuing to remind me that the way I conducted myself--both around the hired men and in the community reflected on THE FAMILY. Since sun dresses were the style for high school girls, (with little jackets to put on when needed), he reminded me that no matter how hot it was, when the hired men came in to the table, I was to wear the little jacket. As I reflect back, yes, i was "the bosses" daughter" and there were men and young boys around all the time--and some could have taken advantage. However, Grandpa emphasized that it was the way I conducted myself that would solve any problems along that line.

I remember driving the "water buggy" behind the horse to take water and lemonade to the men scattered over several fields. Yes, there would have been ample opportunity for misbehavior on either my part or theirs. But--the emphasis was always on acting like a lady, doing your job, and getting back to the house. The young ladies of today could use some of that advice!

He continued to remind both Roger and I that the way we conducted ourselves among our neighbors and in town reflected on our father's name. I know we were always conscious of that fact. Of course, the time that Roger played the Halloween prank with his buddies on a not-too-popular sheriff, certainly emphasized the fact that EVERYBODY knows how it reflected on our father. Though, in this case, Dad privately upheld Roger for being honest and "fessing up" to it, while not implicating his buddies.

I am reminded that how we conduct ourselves also reflects upon our spiritual father--and Dad tried to teach us that lesson too.

Of course,we can remember Grandpa (my father) and all he stood for. However, you wouldn't remember much about our mother and your grandmother (Mary Dotson). She was a true helpmate to Dad, and a courageous woman in her own right. To face the long years of Alzheimer's took a special courage and faith in God that I am not sure I could have faced. But, I remember how she used to love the beauty of the farm and working in the garden, and preserving the fruit and vegetables. How she used to sing as she

worked--both inside and outside the house. One time a city lady asked her "How can you stand it to be out here in the country--it must be so boring!" My quiet, little mother, lifted her chest and her head and her blue Irish eyes snapped and she said "I am NEVER BORED!" She said it with such conviction that the lady said no more. She loved her grandchildren and helped to care for you when you were babies, coming out to Colorado for each of my children's births (also all of Roger and Gerry's babies)-- quietly, firmly, but lovingly, caring for you all when either Gerry or I was too ill (or tired) to do much except breast feed the newest one (whichever of you it might be)!

Since Roger has covered the patriotic part and lessons of hard, honest work, I will say "Amen" to all he has said on this Memorial Day and Dad's official birthday May 30, 2008. With my deep love and respect, Dad and Mom--thanks for our heritage--Thelma

From Roger on Memorial Day 2008

It’s hard to believe you have been gone for 3 years now, Dad. Memorial Day always reminds me of you. I’m attaching a few comments I sent to our family today. I think you would have enjoyed them too.

Your generation is known as the “Greatest Generation” They have lived up to the name. So many sacrificed so much to keep America and the rest of the free world free. They were astute in business, creating the most prosperous nation ever. The most creative moving from the horse & buggy to the Moon and beyond! What changes they saw, what an effect they had on the nation & the world.

We are seeing change too. Some good, some bad and some we don’t know what affect they will have for the future of our grandchildren. One thing seems pretty certain. The Burgess name should continue for another generation or so. Your 4 Burgess grandsons now have 6 Burgess great grandsons. We hope they share some of your character, work ethic and good judgment.

Roger

Today is a day to remember and honor all those, past & present, who have served our country in the Armed Forces. Because of their dedication and sacrifice we live in a free and prosperous country. A country people are still striving hard to get into…not out of! In this country we have more freedom, more wealth, more stability and security than most of the other nations of the world. We have our problems, certainly, and there are problems, of course. But where else would we want to live? Thousands, even hundreds of thousands of our soldiers have died over the years to assure our freedom. Many more were injured and most of the survivors forgotten except for this special day of the year.

In 1915 Lt John McCrae, M. D. wrote the following poem after witnessing the death of a friend at Ypres, Belgium. In 1918 McCrea died in France of pneumonia, a common battlefield ailment in those days. You have undoubtedly heard the poem before. It bears repeating.

“In Flanders Fields”

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Beneath the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Integrity

I've had grandpa on my mind a lot during this time also. Especially during the week we were at York Convention. The previous year after this convention we stopped by grandpa's room to bring a chair and other items. That was the last goodbye for me and I'm satisfied with it. Somehow I felt that my last gesture being a simple task to lend a hand was fitting and he would have approved. Nothing spectacular, no drawn out elaborations, just doing what needed done.

Duane Hopkins mentioned at this convention that our service to the Lord isn't just something that's necessarily separate and apart from the business of life. Rather, it's manifest in how we conduct our business and our life. It really struck me that this seemed to be grandpa's spiritual philosophy. He was much more interested in keeping true and upright in all of his dealings than in the formality and ritual associated with man-influenced religion. We all have our strengths and weaknesses but I can't think of a better example of keeping our sheaf upright in the world of business.

More Memories from daughter Thelma

For the first thirteen days of September, 2006, Dad has been very much on my mind and heart, leading up to memories of his death on September 13, 2005 in the morning. As has been in mentioned in my earlier Memorial Day memories, I still think of many of his helpful "daily living" sayings and actual living example to help prove those homilies true.
Of course, a few outstanding ones come to mind that we all have quoted
many times: "When the going gets tough, the tough get going"--"It’ll
feel better when it quits hurting". Gentry’s famous quote "Grandpa, no use worryin’, cause it’s just going to get worse!"
I remember vividly some of the last fall trips to Trenton, when he shared his vast harvest of tomatoes--and always gave me some canned green beans which we always savored far into the winter. Then, when he moved to York, I still remember the fall trips there and observing the harvest decorations on the front porch of the Mahoney House. Dad used to kind of make fun of them--but he was more than glad to sit in one of the rocking chairs on the porch right next to the pumpkins and scarecrows to have a picture taken in his bib overalls!
Also, how he loved to go out for "biscuits and gravy" where they didn’t "plop" the gravy on top of the biscuits. I never did figure out why this was so frustrating to him when he couldn’t put the gravy on himself. And none of those "cheese" biscuits, either! How he loved a good steak! And, the size of the ones he used to serve all the menfolk when he was at Unionville and Trenton!
The days and hours Dad and I spent going over the suitcases of pictures, hearing him tell the history of them, and categorizing them by activities or years. I remember the Alaska pictures, the Tornado pictures, the Willow Springs and National Western Stock Show pictures, the grandchildren pictures doing fun activities on the ranch at Unionville with Dad--on the tractor--on Kate, or Jewel, or one pony or other.
Then I remembered Lincoln--the hospital--Marie and I sharing a room at the Motel, coming in late in the evening to eat supper at the homey little restaurant there, then falling into bed exhausted after long hours at the hospital. But, those hours were nothing to us as they must have been to Dad trying so hard to be a good patient throughout all the painful procedures.
I remember, just before they were to transport him back to York, him calling me over to the bedside and saying very clearly "Are YOU all right?". It was like he was concerned how I was holding up. I assured him that I was getting rest, eating regularly, and Marie was a comfort.
And, I thanked him for making it possible for us to have a comfortable place to stay. That seemed to satisfy him at that time, though I really feel he was wanting to find out something deeper about how we were all holding up. However, since it wasn’t a time to get emotional, the answer about our physical needs seemed to satisfy him at that time.
The trip to York in the back of the ambulance was a blur. Dad and I did talk some to calm him. Roger was following in the car, but the ambulance took a "back way" to York, so Rog and I talked via cell phone. The Hearthstone was a welcome sight and Dad had good care there. As usual, Dad was concerned about the man that was his roommate, hoping we weren’t bothering him. The man was very gracious and understanding. I’m going to stop here, because the last couple of days are best put farther back in the memory (but they are still there). In memory of the first Anniversary of Dad’s death. Love, daughter, Thelma

Thelma's Memorial Day Thoughts on Grandpa 5/28/06

May 30, 2006: This is the the first Memorial Day in my memory that Dad will not be here to celebrate his birthday. He is now among those many remembered for their sacrifices to make our great country free.

I am reminded of the hymn No. 337 �It may not be my part in the front ranks of battle to fight, but unhonored, unknown .... I will stand at my post where he needeth me most.� I believe we can all say that Dad (Grandpa) stood at his post. The constancy and consistency of his service has been emphasized by all who remember him. The revised hymn words this a bit differently, but the older version seems to say this thought best.

He, too, did his part in World War II, in those cold regions of Alaska, building shelters and bridges for our american servicemen--and he volunteered to do it--with a wife and two small children at home! He had many good excuses to not perform that service!

A popular song in the early 1960�s has been on my mind (sung by Eddie Fisher): �Oh, My PaPa�. The words best express my thoughts at this time:

Oh, my PaPa, to me you are so wonderful.
To me he was so good.
No one could be so gentle and so lovable.
Oh, my PaPa, he always understood.
So funny, so adorable, always the clown, so funny in his way.
Gone are the days when he would take me on his knee and with a smile, he�d change my tears to laughter.
Oh, my PaPa, deep in my heart I miss you so today.

We all know Grandpa had difficult parts of his personality, also; but this song best sums up the good thoughts I remember about him on this Memorial Day. Lovingly, his daughter, Thelma Burgess Hennen (also see memorial to Grandma Mary Burgess)

Honor

Honor. Duty. Respect. Sacrifice. Everybody likes the books and movies that portray these things. But few people today live them. We've become a nation of softies, hypocrites, and entitlement thinkers.
Grandpa lived and taught us to live in a way that honors God, country, and our family name. He helped me understand that duty is more important than serving yourself. Respect is to be given without cynicism and we're all responsible to sacrifice for the greater good. Whether to make a better home life or a stronger nation, the principals remain.
When raising my song of thanksgiving to my maker I appreciate these foundational principals. I'm glad that every time I see our flag honored, hear our national anthem, or reach out to thank a soldier returning from war, the emotions well up inside of me. I appreciate that I've learned to love the feeling of fatigue when it's the result of giving your all in worthwhile efforts. And I am thankful for all who have gone before and fought the battles that allow me the liberties I enjoy. These battles have been fought by those in military uniform, those on their knees in prayer, and those who make choices to keep our family name good.
I wish for you a Memorial Day filled with humility and thankfulness.

Work Boots

Andrea's parents brought a thoughtful keepsake the last time they were down. It's a hand carved wooden boot that doubles as a picture frame. And, of course they put a picture of grandpa Burgess in it. But the most appropriate thing about it is that it's a work boot. It's not a fancy, dressy dude ranch (or yuppy country music fan) type of boot. As I sit here in my office and look at it I think of all the times grandpa used to have me pull off his boots after a long day on the ranch. They'd always be scraped off and cleaned off at the end of the day but with the dust and wear of life still very evident.
In my recollection, one of the most visual representations of his life were his tools, his horses, his equipment and even his clothing. All were picked carefully for quality, function, and durability. Status and "show" weren't a consideration. My earliest memories are of him teaching me how to care for things, how to organize them, and how to get the most out of them when working. I can't say that I've kept those lessons as well as I should but they come back to me more and more as time goes on.