My grandfather on my fathers side is named Milo Bracken. He was born in Star Valley Wyoming. He was a quiet man, in fact I can not remember even one quote from him. I do remember his smile, his work ethic and his patience. almost every week we would spend Sunday evening at grandpa's house. I remember him sitting in his chair smiling and laughing as everyone visited. I don't think I ever heard a cross word from him. I simply remember his great patience with me in every circumstance.
One year grandpa, dad, my brother Steve and I went deer hunting west of Nephi. We were in grandpa's old green Chevy truck that he had painted by hand. We hiked up and down the hills and were ready to leave. Upon Steve's pleading that we just go around this one more hill we saw what looked like a deer on the side of the mountain. They sent Steve and I to investigate. I was armed with my trusty BB gun (great for deer hunting). As we got closer we could see that it was indeed a deer. It jumped up and ran down the hill into a field. It stopped to look back at us and dad shot it. Grandpa drove the truck out in the field next to the deer and dad talked him into cleaning it. They then simply tossed it into the back of the truck and we were on our way home.
The greatest example of grandpa's patience was when they took Bonnie and me with them to Green River. I got sick and grandpa wanted to give me some "white lightning" cough syrup. Being the "medical expert" that I was at 12 or so, I refused. I was told him in no uncertain terms that I needed an "expectorant" and would take nothing else. He didn't say a word, but returned shortly for the local drug store with some over the counter cough syrup clearly labeled "expectorant". Between my being sick and Bonnie being home sick, I am sure that this was a miserable time for him, but not a word of complaint or impatience with us.
His example makes me proud to carry the name Bracken.
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2 comments:
Ok John. you inspired me.
I started my own blog. After reading your entries, i thought maybe somebody else would be interested in my life.
I think I'm one of the only great-grandkids that remembers Grandpa Bracken, as we called him. I remember him sitting in that rocking chair/recliner with his hands folded across his stomach and a sweet smile that spread throughout his whole countenance. Thanks for all your memories, uncle J!
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