Planes, trains and automobiles

Went to a town near Bakewell today with The Mister. Model rail-road exhibition...of course it did have more than just trains (Thank you Jesus for your mercy on me!).

One thing I really liked was a model of a fun fair/carnival. It had lighted rides, even....the trailers/caravans the Roadies live in. Cracked me up. It was very bright and colourful as they should be and I liked it...different.

There was also a digital slot car set up. Quite a change from what my Uncle Ron has when I was growing up. He would have loved it, it monitored how much gas each car used and you have to go into the pit and re-fuel. You can change lanes with the control and pass your opponent. It brought tears to my eyes.

He was way too young to have died when he did. Fifty-two and full of muck from smoking two packs a day for probably 35 years. Wish he could have been there with me. He loved model trains too. The garage was full of slot cars, his bedroom full of model trains...Not sure what he did with them when he got married to Aunt Darla, and they started having kids....they'd be worth a fortune now. Priceless to me, just because he owned them. He was a very special guy...died shortly after birth. The nuns at the hospital got my grandmothers permission to baptise him and give him last rights. After my grandmother was informed, a sister went in to clean him and make him presentable for my grandmother to see. The still, blue infant she had left, was pink and kicking upon her return. I believe all the angels in heaven rejoiced as much as she did. Born with hydrocephlis, an arm broken in two places and weighing just over thirteen pounds...he was a big boy. The shunt drained the fluid from his brain, his arm healed but not perfectly due to the two breaks. This was a blessing in disguise, it kept him from being drafted and going to Viet Nam when he was seventeen. He quit school at that age and got a job in a factory. Working and giving his money to my grandmother to help with the bills, since Grandpa had hit the road.

Friday nights he always stopped and brought home a pizza. He ate all but two pieces, leaving them in the fridge for me, along with a bottle of Pepsi, he would take the top off and put it back on, tight enough for me to get it off in the morning to have with my pizza while I watched Saturday morning cartoons. After a car accident, he received a tidy sum of money (seemed enourmous at the time). He bought me a new bike! A Schwin Sting-ray, top of the line, gold metal flake, bananna seat and a sissy bar, to go with the butterfly handle bars. Who would want a better Uncle than that? I loved his three children as if they were my own. The life they had was hard, sometimes the best people make the dumbest choices and biggest mistakes, based on a spur of the moment decision. The effects, manifesting themselves for years to come. I've connected with his grandson, via Facebook. I hope we can continue to connect now and again. He looks so much like Ron. His father, Ron's son passed away two weeks before I moved to England. leaving another miracle...Andrew Jackson Lamoureaux. Weighing under two pounds, the family was told he wouldn't make it. Little Andy was running and playing at the funeral...A testament to the tenacity to live, to carry on and to the power of God to keep blessing for a reason. Who knows what that reason will be, only God of course, for now.

This is titled Planes, trains and automobiles....I've not mentioned planes, funny thing, is, whenever I fly I think if the plane should crash, I'll get to see Uncle Ron, Aunt Darla and John again.