Jane Cecilia Born!

It's a girl! Jane Cecilia...she is beautiful. She looks a lot like Danny when he was born except for more delicate features. I just spent some time cuddling her so Carolyn could sleep and she found her thumb which she proceeded to suck violently. She's got very strong arms and hands--she likes to wale them around. Danny is adapting well to having a little sister. He piles up toys on top of her while mom nurses. He and I have been having lots of fun going for walks and playing at the playground. We discovered that we both really like popsicles!

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Having a great time in New Orleans waiting for the #3 grandchild to be born! Click the "Grandkids" album on the right to see some recent pictures of #1 and #2!

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Celebrating St. Pat's Jamaican Style

We had a wonderful time celebrating the High Holy Day here in the Bend. We had 2 men from the POP branch in Jamaica staying with us. Dan and they were at meetings all day starting on Thursday. They mentioned to me that they had special connections with the Irish. Locksley is an amazing musician! He accompanies groups to Lourdes as their music minister. After hours he hangs out with the musicians that accompany groups from Ireland and they jam together. He loves Irish music. Saturday night when they got home we gathered in our living room and the fun began. Locksley played and Noel sang and we had a "hooley"(Gaelic for awesome time!). We sang old Irish favorites and some rocking Reggae. Noel treated us to some Jamaican dancing and we all jumped up to join the fun. We rocked until 2:00 a.m.--in Jamaica they dance and sing all night so that was an early ending for our guests! They sang us some of their favorite praise and worship songs as well. Our hearts were lifted very high last night. Music is such a wonderful gift. Sheila had guests over for an Irish movie and snacks. They all joined us as well and a couple of them called their friends. Around midnight two young men from Africa joined in the fun. Music drew us together and gave us great joy!

Wanderers

From Marge:

When Anne and I were out visiting in California, I suggested to Anne we go over to the DeYoung Museum at Golden Gate because I hadn't seen the new design, and of course Mike was game. First we took a couple of buses and then we walked in the fog. Then we got to the museum and found out we had arrived on the day it was closed. Then we wandered through the museum garden for a while. Then we went over to the Japanese tea gardens (paying customers!) and wandered around there for a while. Then we had tea. Then we decided to walk home through the park. We got into the jungly part of the Rhododendron grove and got completely lost! Anne, Mike and I had three different ideas of which way was "home." So first we tried one way, then the second, then the third. After wandering around for what seemed like a couple of hours (discovering a deep, dank, lake and making several other wilderness sightings) we came back out at last to civilization. What I remember about that episode was the extreme good humor, even cheer, shown by your dad/grandpa. You would have thought we had planned the whole thing on purpose! He acted as though it was all a grand adventure. I was flagging and had had enough long before he was ready to call it quits. And THEN, after we finally found the way out, we hiked up to USF to pick up something for Dan from the giftshop. What a spirit of adventure he had! That's what I'll miss.

Grandpa Stories

This week Grandpa would be 88. In his honor I thought I'd start a blog with some of his stories.
We love you Dad. We're so proud of you!

Hard worker and a Gentleman

From Mike:

I was really missing Dad today. A tenant from 46th called at 6:30 this morning to say there was a flood of water in the garage. Usually Dad would go out with me and help me fix whatever problems the rentals had. The Saturday before he injured his finger we went out to 41st Ave. The tenant's kitchen sink was clogged and the toilet was also backing up. Dad plunged out the toilet and we worked on freeing the sink. We ran the snake down the sink but it didn't help so we had to remove a clean out plug outside. The plug wouldn't budge so I cut it open with the chisel. The plug's threads were still stuck. I went to the bathroom and when I came back Dad had chiseled and cut out the rest of the plug. He was amazing. We then got the pipes cleaned out by running the snake and a water hose down the pipe.

The St. Gabriel's St. Patrick's dinner dance was this past weekend. For the last few years Dad had been going out there. Last year a woman from St. Monica parish, Faye Willig, needed a ride to St. Gabe's, as her usual ride wasn't going. Dad drove by himself to her house at 46th near Anza and gave her a ride to the dinner dance. After we played last year, we drove home together and dropped her off. I remember Dad getting out of the car and walking her to the door of her house. Faye has been on the sick list in our parish bulletin so I don't think she'll be going this year either. Dad was such a gentleman.

I was coming home from work during the last year when at 21st and Geary I saw Dad carrying a bag and walking with an older Chinese woman. I asked him about it at dinner otherwise he probably wouldn't have told me. He said he was walking over to do some work at Clement St. when he saw this woman who was dealing with 2 bags of groceries. It was too much for her to carry at once so she would carry the one bag foward a distance then leave it down on the sidewalk and then go back and get the other bag. Dad offered to help and ended up carrying one of the bags for her (or maybe both I forget). I'm sure it must have taken all of a half hour because she was walking extremely slow and lived up at 21st and Anza.

I was also looking around the house for anything that Dad had written. Dad always took his time when he was writing - he had a very deliberate way of writing even his own signature.

My Dad

From Anne:

When Brian lived with us in household dad loved him and understood him better than anyone. A big part of Brian at that time was his Irishness. So one morning when dad was visiting our family went to mass. When we came home Brian was frying up bacon. He had started breakfast for us which was a very loving thing to think of. The house was filled with smoke and I jumped all over Brian about burning the bacon. I completely missed the kind act. Dad mentioned to me later how Brian was trying to do something nice for us and I needed to be easier on him. That was very unusual for dad to correct me in any way. I was really struck at the time how dad really knew and loved Brian the way he was. I was all about "fixing" Brian, and dad was all about love!

Last July I was out visiting and it was Saturday night so in the Bowler/McCabe tradition we went to the Parkside with the McCabes for dinner. Dad ordered his favorite turkey dinner which first they thought they were out of but they found they had one left. After dinner Mike suggested that we go to the Cultural Center because the Coeltis (sp) dancing group was out there. Everyone wanted to go so we headed out there. We found a table where we saw the dancing real well. When they invited anyone to come join them I asked Mike and Oliver but they declined. So I asked dad and he jumped right up! We had a great time dancing the Seige of Ennis. As usual I think I got more winded than dad. It is so special to think of that memory and our dance together!

Ironman

From Pat:

A couple of years ago when Dad was into his bike we were down in the basement changing a tire tube. We got the new tube in and we were attempting to put the tire back on the rim; my attempts failed miserably. As I was searching for a tool Dad started in to put the tire back on; I told Dad he shouldn't bother since it was an extremely difficult procedure without the tool. Of course Dad considered this a "nice" little challenge, and proceeded to install the tire inch by inch as I stood by in amazement. Dad finished up the tire as my jaw dropped with a thud on the basement floor; he never boasted or called me a weakling or anything negative. I just had witnessed a 83 or 84 year old do an amazing thing, which I'm sure only Jack LaLane could only replicate. Dad was an IRONMAN, yet he was totally unassuming; this, in my mind, summarizes Dad's character. A giant of a man stored inside a 5 foot 8 inch frame; he was my idol.