As we were packing the van three weeks ago, early in the morning, for our trip to Idaho and Montana Phil came into the garage with a legal-size yellow notepad with a stiff cardboard back. I looked at his pad of paper with each family member’s name written on it and told him what a good job he had done. We finished packing, piled in the van and then it was time for roll call. With no silliness in his voice he called out each name and waited for each us to answer “here” when our name was called. That set the precedence for the rest of our trip. Each time we got back in the van Phil got out the notepad and took roll. I remember a couple of times when we had a few more kids living at home when we did forget someone somewhere. A roll call would have come in handy back then.
I'm all caught up. I just read about two special olympics, how Clark broke the rake, Phil's declaration of love, their gentle treatment of their nieces and nephews, and that hilarious transcript of Clark's that you typed up one day this past spring. Why do I feel such love for their souls after only living in their ward for two years? I'm so glad I get to check in with you on this blog. Please keep posting.
ReplyDeleteAnd have a nice trip. May Phil's roll calls continue without blemish.
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ReplyDeleteThanks for your encouraging words. Since I started blogging about Clark and Phil I've noticed I see more and understand more.
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