Tim

I was seven years old when my brother Tim was born in Clovis, New Mexico. I thought that momma had him just for me. She let me pick the name Tim. I chose it after Sally's toy bear from my Dick and Jane reader. Be careful where you get your baby names because I can tell you now he is not thrilled about being named after a stuffed animal. I told him it could be worse, he could have been named Spot or Puff. Tim came during the heyday of my doll playing days and he was much more fun than Tiny Tears. I wasn't actually big enough to carry him around when he was born. I don't know how big I was then but I distinctly remember the year before being carried around during recess by the older kids at Alabama Christian College. I started first grade when I was 5, weighed 30 pounds, and wore a size three dress. Tim's first sentence was "Eat Linda" so I guess we always looked out for each other.

Tim was two by the time we got back to Montgomery. Momma soon learned to keep his shoes off so he wouldn't slip off to see Uncle Bill down the street. Do not take these excursions all the way down the block as evidence of his bravery, he just loved Uncle Bill and Aunt Lee. The first time Tim really got scared, he scared himself. Momma made him the cutest clown costume for Halloween. The first stop on the Trick or Treat route was our next door neighbor, Ruth Parker. As it turned out, it was also his last stop. She took Tim to see himself in a floor length mirror. He was so frightened by the clown we had to go home. I don't think this actually led to psychological problems but I can tell you this, he never enjoyed the circus.

Our older brother, Bob, liked to use Tim as a date magnet. He would cart him everywhere so the teen aged girls would come by to talk to the cute little boy. He worked the crowd much better than our dog Rover.

Through some poor personal choices of mine, Tim and I ended up one quarter apart in college. Those were the days. Clayton Jr. College only had one building at the time but it did have an enormous parking lot. When I drove my 68 Cougar we parked close to the building, when Tim drove his car we parked in the most remote section where no one in their right mind parked. I was off to chiropractic college one quarter before him. Every quarter we discussed what system of note taking we were going to use. This was important to him because not only did he use my books, he used my notes. The quarter I deiced to use some shorthand was not his favorite. I redeemed myself by purchasing an IBM Selectric Typewriter. It was the bomb. I might not have been so proud of my purchase if I had know the future technology of delete, cut, paste, and spell check. Going to college in the B.C. days, before computers, was not all it was cracked up to be.

I had two young children when I headed off to chiropractic college. Tim gained a wife and a daughter before he graduated. It is a wonder we didn't all starve to death. Momma would come up with some interesting food items for us. Once she gave us a case of Spanish Rice. We donated Spanish Rice to every food drive they had at school. I still hate Spanish Rice. Then there was the little meat fingers made from some mystery meat. I tried every way I could to disguise the taste. Tim would laugh when momma would say, "Linda just loves those little meat fingers". I think he was responsible to me getting so many. We went to college not only prior to computers, we went prior to student loans. The best paying job I could find was as a cocktail waitress at Dobbins AFB. The job paid $5 and hour plus tips. The only problem was I had never even been to a bar much less worked in one. I didn't even know what color different liqueurs were. Tim had a friend whose father had owned a bar that was closed. I used him as a reference because they couldn't check it. Some how I got the job that I needed so badly. Lee, the bartender, took me under his wing and soon I was a top notch waitress. It was like working with your family, the same people there every day. Well, maybe not like working with my family but some one's drunk family. They had an opening at the package store so I got Tim a job. I would go in there to purchase cigarettes for customers and had to look through the entire stock before finding what I was looking for because I didn't know what color packages they were. in. I learned a lot working there. Like for instance, I didn't want that to be my permanent job. I kept my tacky short red cocktail uniform to keep me humble. One day I found it after years of being packed away my husband said, "I bet you can't still wear that." I put that baby right on. It was much shorter than I remember. All Tim had to remember from his package store days was an umbrella left by one of his most frequent customers. I borrowed it, and I use that term loosely, and quickly lost that memento for him.

I graduated and moved to north Georgia and Tim went to practice with our dad. Our oldest brother practices in Alabama, God's country. The baby, who is no longer qualified to be called "our little brother" lives next door to our parents. I have seen so many families not share in the responsibilities of Raising Their Parents, but I am proud to say my brothers are the best. We talk frequently, often starting the conversation by saying, "Your mother....".