Today, 6 August, would have been the 102nd birthday of my beloved Dad, Marion Edward Spiller (obit. 1995), who became my Father after the death of my real Father. He was the only Father I knew from age nine. He has been gone now for almost thirty years and I still miss him. I think of him every year, as I watch the Czech Days parade with its tractors. There's always a Poppin' Johnny, Dad, a John Deere Model A, just like the one you taught me to drive.
And it would have been the 146th birthday of my equally beloved Grandmother, Pitronella Frederika (Nellie) Weismiller, nee Peterson. Born in Sweden in 1876, she came to Kansas at 11 in 1887. She survived my Grandfather by 57 years until the house burned down and killed her in 1973 when she was 97. I think of you, too, Grandma, almost every day.They are gone but never forgotten. May they rest in peace. Memory Eternal!
Amen, to your prayer. It's great to see real love and gratitude for the man who was your father, and your love for your grandmother.
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