I wanted to honor the life and memory of my mother- and father-in-law, Selma Elizabeth and Walter Clyde Sloan, who died 10 and 9 yrs ago Feb 8th and 9th respectively. I am glad I had some good chances to know you and love you both ... that I continue to be part of your family ... that I am married to a most wonderful, kind, respectful and loving man, your son, Jeffrey. I feel fortunate that I have grown to love my sisters-in-law and their children, all those beautiful people I insist that I am their aunt ;o) ... the out-laws, I call us, those of us who are married to your children. I was told by Mom Sloan that, "Kyle, you're the best thing that ever happened to this family," and, of course, I repeat that on a regular basis to my husband. I don't want him to forget it. I remember the annual visits to Virginia on top of the "hill" which, to me, was a mountain for sure. Jeff and I would go on our late night walks to look at the stars (and some of you know what we were really up to, but stargazing WAS one of them!) and I even taught them something: there were glow worms out there, glowing for no one, because no one stayed up late enough to see them. One night we talked Mom and Dad into staying up past dark and showed them a glow worm. The next day Mom was on the "hot-line" telling all her friends in the neighborhood, and I'm not sure if anyone knew they had glow worms amidst them. Glad to be of service! I was there when Dad went to a restaurant, pretty much for the first time, right inside! He'd been so petrified to do so, anxiety, claustrophobic or fear of crowds, ?? but I talked him into it and, after that, he and Mom went out to eat so much they were like connoiseurs of the neighboring towns' vittles. It was peaceful there to me, except early in the morning when the damned banty roosters would start in. Dad got up around 4 a.m. and started watching TV, too. He was stoned deaf and blasted that baby loud. Around 7 a.m. Mom would get up and start that long process of preparing a breakfast where not one square inch of kitchen table space was left uncovered. Rattling the pots and pans and yelling at Dad, since he could never hear her and probably kept his hearing aids turned off, we'd be trying to squeeze out a tiny bit more sleep time, but the curtains on the room were sheer and white ... and the sun was beaming in ... and the banty roosters sounded like "real" roosters with croup. Then it was, "bam bam bam!" Jeff, come on and get up, breakfast is ready! And we probably had, oh, maybe 5-6 fitful hrs of sleep, but we'd get up to this breakfast fit for royalty, and they didn't even kill me when sometimes I'd say, "Do you have any cereal?" But seriously, Mom and Dad Sloan, I honor you and hold your love and memories of us laughing and crying and sitting on the front porch and riding around those God-awful roads shopping and going to flea mkts ... sitting on the tree swing ... watching the bluebirds and hummingbirds, the absolutely most gorgeous flowers I ever saw in my life, and the moon and stars in such deep darkness that it took my breath away. I wish all your children could see you in the same light that I do ... there aren't any shadows there for me, so I am truly the lucky one. God bless your Souls. We visited your 15' tall burial mausoleums last October in the Chapel of Love at Castlewood in Virginia, first time in 9 yrs. It was a beautiful autumn day with panoramic views of rich fall colors everywhere. Rest easy ... I'll see you in my dreams.
This photo is only a small part of your family, Jeff's birthday party one year, but it's the only one I have on my computer right now. There's also a few friends in the background and I'm taking the picture. See how everyone smiles at me? The best thing that ever happened to your family!