I had 2 brother's and 1 sister.  Daddy always made us mind him.  We were afraid not too.  Mom we would run off from her or hide or whatever.  Daddy was strick on my brother's.  We lost my one brother Stanley in a car wreck when he was 17 years old.  A drunk driver hit him and he was brain dead.  My other brother was killed in 1976 by my son's father who shot him 4 times which was murder anyway you look at it.  I left home at an early age just to get away from things.  A lot of bad memories and a lot of baggage I carried around with me for a lot time.  Daddy loved his children greatly and when he lost my brother's it just about killed him.  His nerves got bad and he would jump when the phone would ring and I know it broke something inside of him.  But when he got saved he got "saved".  He was a changed man.  He loved his grandchildren dearly and would do things with them.  He would make them Indian tents, ride them on the 4 wheeler, ride them on the lawn mower and whatever.  He loved children so good.  After he got sick when Dakota who was about 3 at that time would visit his eyes would light up and he would hold him in his lap.  I wish he was here to see his sister Brooklyn.  She is something else.  He thought Dakota was such a smart kid.  Brooklyn is too.  

Grandma Lula always told me as a little girl that when daddy was born that he was so small they fixed a shoe box and that was his bed and he fit in it for quite a while.  He grew up to be about 5'7" and weighed about 140 lbs just before he died.  To be a man, daddy really worried about his weight.  Mom said if he had to go up a size in pants he would say he had to start watching what he ate.  He wore size 30 waist for most of my life and when he went to a 32 he was broken hearted for a while but he got over it and he looked more healthy at that size anyway.  I guess that is where I get my worrisome over my weight from him.  I can't stand to gain a pound or two........

Dad's mother was Lula Gilbert Chat and Ance Gilbert Senior in 1924.