Happy Day on February 6, 1935

1935 wasn’t exactly happy times for many people, but for my parents, Carus and Geneva Wade, it was a monumental day.  My brother, their first child, was born in Republic, Missouri. He was named  Grover Harrison Wade after both his grandfathers.   My parents were very poor, living with friends and relatives, and working at any job they could find. 

Grover grew up moving a lot!  My dad who had almost always worked in the oil fields and as a mechanic, finally secured a job with an oil company that kept them moving all along the Texas and Lousiana coast. They were moving when Grover was school age, so he changed schools many times. 

Then came the war and more moving, but they always seemed to end up back in the Tulsa area or, at least, back in Oklahoma.

Even after the war and living in Michigan for several years and I came along in 1950, they came back to Tulsa. 

So, he finished his schooling here and only went to a college briefly in Canyon, Texas, after he got out of the Army. 

College and Army were hard for me.  He was my guardian angel and always there making me feel good about myself. And I missed him so much.    He bought me my first poetry book when I started school!  A book of Mother Goose Rhymes that I sadly had to throw away because it was disintegrating.  Then he gave me the first grown-up poetry book when I was 11.  He eventually became one of my teachers in high school and was disappointed when I chose not to be a teacher.

But, as always, supported me, protected me, encouraged me, and never criticized me.  No matter how stupid I was being or how bad my choices were (and that happened on many occasions).

He was more than my brother he was my hero.  I know he wasn’t perfect, but he was perfect for me. 

We never argued, he teased me a lot, but we never got angry at each other.  Maybe it was the fifteen years age difference I don’t know, but it never happened.  Bubbie, you were and always will be my constant. 

 Thank you for being my brother!  I was blessed and I continue to be because of all the beautiful, funny memories and the confidence you instilled in me.

The Constant

You held me on a pillow

So tiny and frail.

You held me up as

I tried to walk.

You held me on your shoulders

So I could see the view.

You held my hand

When I was in pain.

You held me as I sobbed.

You held me as we

Watched our parents decline.

You held my heart gently

As my love lay dying.

My rock, my hero,

My brother,

My constant.