Hi World, John Thomas Bush here! I’m still a little sleepy…it is hard work getting born!

They’ve had me all wrapped up in this hat and blanket ever since this morning! I’m ready to stretch out a little!

Daddy, can you help get these blankets off of me.

Whew! That’s better! Now, hurry! Look, there’s that nice lady.

I don’t know who that old man is…but he looks nice too!

Come on, nice lady…I’m ready. I want you to hold me now.

Now, what did you say your name was? That’s right…GiGi. That’s a nice name.
I think I like you.

Now, I KNOW I do! I like snuggling with you!

Now, who is that old man over there watching me?

Oh, he’s your Daddy…so he’s my Pop! Hi, Pop! You look pretty nice, too!

It’s OK, you can touch me…I won’t bite…yet!

Ohhh! I like your hands! They are big and strong! I bet you can teach me to shake hands one day!

Hey Adam! That tickles! Aren’t you supposed to be taking pictures?

Look! Here’s a good pose for you! Now how about passing me off to the Pop. I think he and I have got some talking to do!

Yep, me and the old man are going to be big buddies…I can just tell.

While sitting at the hospital this morning, before and after the birth…I needed something to do since the doctors and nurses obviously didn’t want or need my expert advice. I decided to tell the story of my sweet grand-nephew with the newspaper and a magazine I had brought to read. Yes, some of the pics are a little fuzzy. Chalk it up to my excitement. Here, then, is the story of the day…told in words and pictures.

JOHN THOMAS BUSH
6 pounds 10 ounces
20 inches

Have a fun-filled, happy, and thankful weekend!

Today is the birthday of my middle son, Alex. I have no words to say what I feel for this beautiful gift from God. He has the most gentle spirit, and quiet wisdom. He is a source of courage and inspiration to many. He knows me, and encourages me. He is a joy. He is my sunshine.

…with brothers at Disney World…

…on the beach…

…with Mom at home…

…with cousin, Lori…

…with Don in Boston…

…with big brother Adam…

…with little brother Ian…

…with Granny and Pop at the lake…

Happy Birthday, my sweet son! My prayer is that God will bless you above all that we could ever imagine. Mom

After Joy and I finished our work on Pop’s den, we decided to go through some more of her things that needed to be discarded. Things like make-up, and lotions, and other personal items.

This is not a fun thing to do…but it is necessary. It feels almost intrusive, though. These are the things that she touched everyday. Just little things like 48 lipsticks, and 13 compacts, and foundation…10 or 12, lotions, Oil of Olay and Nivea, and 7 curling irons with teeth and without, buttons, old fashioned hair rollers, hair clips, toothpaste, toothbrushes,combs and brushes. Nothing great and wonderful…just the normal grooming things we all use to get us through the day. I wish I had taken a pic of just how organized she had it all. She could put her hand right on whatever she needed. Everything was in its place…she always put it back in the area she created for it. (It is obvious to those who know me that this trait did not pass on to me. Oh, I can organize it, and find a perfect home for it…it’s the ‘putting back’ I have trouble with!) She also had a drawer full of beautiful handkerchiefs, and hand towels. Some were embroidered with Granny, or Mother or some other sentiment.Here were some gifts from the grandchildren and notes from Joy and I. And, this scarf was among them.

I remember buying this for her for Mother’s Day one year. It was in an April Cornell store…do you remember those? I think they have all moved overseas now…but there was such a beautiful array of ‘fancy’ things there that she loved.
I thought this scarf was so beautiful and pink and prissy…all the things she liked.
And the verse that was woven into the fabric was so perfect, it would not have mattered how much it cost…because it was already hers.

HOME IT IS MY MOTHER

My Home it is my Mother,
Within her heart I live.
Her love is like no other;
The sunshine it does give.
And like the spreading branches
Of a truly fragrant tree,
My Mother?