SMILING BUD

It is one degree, with the windchill at seventeen below. That dear friends is very cold. It is 4:30 am and "I" has made her front yard run. It is hard to bark non-stop with cold frigid air pumping into your lungs. She was back inside with no frantic plea's from me this morning, for which I am grateful. "H" is up but has not ventured out as yet,

I wrote about my sister Geri yesterday morning. So I thought it only fair to introduce you to my brother. I call him Smiling Bud. Yes you're right because he always smiles. You can just say the name Bud to me and it conjures up pictures of this tanned skinny little boy, a nervous little smile on his face. He never said many words but he always smiled.

Bud was the only boy in a family of four children, second born. He is quiet, neat, oh yes another neat one. Very talented, easy going. He has many good quailties. But one of his best I have always thought was his ability to stick to whatever he started. Bud worked at the same job forty years, has lived in the same house for over forty years, was married to the same woman for almost forty years, until her death in 2000. He has always been dependable. You can count on Bud. He has always suited up and faced life no matter was thrown at him. I find that awesome. I have always been a dreamer, and not always the most dependable. Bud on the other hand has always did what he knew he should do, no matter what his dreams were.

I am sure he had them. As I have written in this blog, Bud taught himself to play the guitar at age of twelve. He never had a lesson. He just wanted to play. We had a neighbor woman who taught him a few cords. He would faithfully take his guitar across the street to the little church we attended and sit on the front pew. When the two players on the platform changed their fingers on the neck, he changed his. He praticed constantely. I have always loved to hear him play and sing. And he has always played over all the years. But after his wife Dixie passed away he has sang very little. He gives many excuses, but I believe when Dixie died it was as if she took his music with him.

He met Dixie when he was not quite eighteen, she fifteen. He was in the airforce, home on leave, getting ready to go overseas for eighteen months. They fell in love. Bud went overseas, before he came back home they had drifted apart. But there was this love between them that was always there. It was almost three years before they seen each other again. Then another year before they were able to marry. I believe theirs was a true love story. Not a perfect one. But a love story.

There will probably never be a book written about Bud. He will never grace the stage of the Grand Ole Opry. But in my mind he is a hero. There had to be days he just did not want to get up and go to work,and work long hours. In the early years with little pay. But he just kept going. Did he dream years ago of making it in the music world. I don't know, I never asked him. But he had five children to feed and clothe. So he never let that thought linger for long if he did. He just kept going, day after day. What a legacy I believe.

So Bud this blog is for you. Probaby not more than one or two will read it. But you Bud are my hero You have made your life count. You live alone now. Listening to your beloved music on the radio. Watching a movie once in awhile. You are still quiet. I always use to believe your singing was your way of talking to the world. Now you very seldom sing. But over the years the smile is still there. I am proud to be your sister.