Halloween of Years Gone By

I borrowed parts of this writing from Mary Maxwell, a popular speaker at events throughout Nebraska and across the country.  It reminded me so much of my childhood that I wanted to share it with you.

For those of us who grew up in the '40s, '50s, and '60s, Halloween was a fun time for children and for adults who made cookies, popcorn balls and gumdrop people for the goblins and ghosts who would come to their doors.  When our kids were young we sent them on their way on Halloween night with older kids in charge of the younger ones.  The little ones carried little sacks or plastic pumpkins and "trick or treat" and "thank you" was the norm when they came to the door and received their treats.  

There was always at least one house where they would be asked to do a trick, sing or a little dance before getting anything in their sacks.  That was part of the fun even if the older kids grumbled about it.  And, one house which was avoided by the older kids who had been there the year before.... the owner would hand out Bartlet pears, green and as hard-as-a-rock as their treat.  Unfortunately many of them did not make it very far....the kids generally pitched them away to make room in their sacks for goodies.

It was so much fun...the older kids would bring the little ones back after a tour around the block, examine  their loot (the big kids used pillow cases as bags) then would travel three or four blocks away packing more and more candy into their bags till they finally reached the house where they knew that cans of soda pop were being given (in the early 70's and 80', a can of pop was considered a REAL TREAT! )  A few houses away was the little Granny sitting on her porch giving her homemade caramel popcorn balls carefully wrapped in wax paper.  The kids wouldn't ever consider not going there, even if it was snowy and the blowing winds made them shiver.

Their pillow cases would bulge with various kinds of loot....at our house, the bags were dumped out on the kitchen table or a clean sheet laid on the floor and the kids would go through it...trading one piece of candy for another.."I'll give you 3 pieces of gum for a Tootsie pop"...."I don't like gumdrops, anyone want to trade?".  Even Dad got into the act ..if he found a piece of candy he liked, usually chocolate, it was HIS...no argument from the kids, they knew when they had a good thing going.

Then years later things changed.  On Halloween night vans and cars started to arrive on our street to drop-off 4 or 5 or more kids to go trick or treating in our neighborhood.  They would race from one house to another, ring the doorbell and hold out their sacks....once they got their loot, they'd turn around and race to the next.  Once in a while one would say "thank you" or "have a nice Halloween" ....that made up for the many who didn't.

Then the next thing we knew, people became very concerned about candy being laced with dangerous and harmful stuff.  Hospitals and medical emergency rooms volunteered to x-ray the candies in case someone had inserted a pin or other dangerous item in them.  The friendly folks who once treated with homemade cookies and popcorn balls were told "mama said to only take things that are bought at the grocery store".

The old tradition of trick-or-treating has nearly been abandoned in favor of home or school parties, malls and stores giving candies and gifts for the best costumes and for just being there.  Many children will never have the fun and thrill of dressing up and being in their neighborhood long after "the street lights came on" and being almost scared by a ghost, vampire, Darth Vader or even Frankenstein himself as they went from place to place was part of the fun.

How sad that is........

Our Descendents

My husband and I have 7 grandchildren.....aging from age 6 years to age 22. Four of them live in Omaha, NE and the other three live in Naperville, IL. 

Jennifer, Austin, Rebecca and Andrew are wonderful, active kids.......we all live within a mile or so of each other so I see them often. Mason, Connor and Hayden now live in Illinois. When the kids were younger, our daughters, would occasionally call us, usually early in the morning, saying "mom, what are you doing today?" That meant that I would be babysitting for one or the other. Luckily we are retired and have no or at least not too many commitments and am available.

Several years ago, we went on a family cruise.......What a fun time! On Aruba we stopped at a small zoo and the kids played with the baby monkeys.........of course, Jenny fell in love with them and would have liked to take one home.  Its a good thing we were 1,000's of miles from home and on a cruise ship, or she would have talked her Dad into getting one for her! 

The Craftsman pliers walleye!

Our son-in-law, J. P. Jones was a semi-professional walleye fisherman, was on the TRACKER fishing team, former President of the Nebraska Walleye Association and a really good fisherman. He frequently appears at sports, boats and vacation shows in the midwest giving demonstrations, showing off the TRACKER boats, etc.

ESPN had already taken shots of John fishing and catching walleyes, but after viewing the tapes, the producers of the show wanted more footage of John casting and "setting the hook" etc. So, he and our daughter, Lisa, went to a nearby lake to tape. John, figuring this would be a quickie, put a weight and lure on the line, cast out and promptly gave the rod a good pull - setting the hook.

Unfortunately, what he set the hook into was a sunken tree limb - snap went the line and the only "lure" that John had taken onto the boat. He hadn't planned to actually fish so didn't have his tackle box on this "trip" - result--no other lures.

But our John is a resourceful young man - he took a pair of Craftsman pliers from his back pocket and attached it to the line. Ok, so far, so good. He cast the pliers out and they made a nice ker-plunk as they hit the water. Then, John had his hands full!

The pliers opened up and gave him more of a fight than most walleye's do - they dove, swerved, bent the rod, went under the boat as the opened pliers were reeled in. All this time, John is laughing like crazy, not expecting this kind of action at all. Lisa is filming this from shore and is laughing so hard she was having trouble keeping the camera level.

John managed to land his Craftsman (pliers) and they presented the tape to ESPN (but didn't tell them about the big strike...they just let ESPN assume that they released the "fish")

The end of the story is that John has some of the best fishing action he has ever had on tape. The ESPN people will cut and splice shots of him casting and "setting" the hook, "fighting" the fish (pliers), and then show him bringing in and netting a nice walleye that he had caught when the ESPN guys were with him.

If you ever see John P. Jones from Nebraska on the sports network (ESPN) and he is casting out and battling the best fighting fish you ever saw, you'll know "the rest of the story".

John made me promise not to tell this story - but you guys won't say a word will you!!!!!

To My Children

To Lisa, Christine, Jeff and Nancy

I've made mistakes being a Mom, more than I'd like to admit. I am not perfect at all. But I'll always be there for you, to hear you, to cheer for you, to laugh or cry with you, to protect you with my life and tell you things you don't want to hear.  

I will love you even at those times when you don't love me. No matter how old you get, no one will ever love you more than I do, because I am and always will be your Mom.

Photo taken in 1975

Songs and Memories

You're listening to the radio when suddenly "that" song comes on. You know the one ....it was "your" song when you were dating that special person. You stop what you're doing and the memories come flooding back.

I am back in high school, walking down the halls of South High School in Omaha, Nebraska. I remember the joy of seeing my special guy and holding hands as we talked on the way to our next class. Somehow I knew that he was the "one". We dated throughout high school and spent many evenings in his car, parked in "lover's lane" (with about a dozen other cars) and listening to Johnny Mathis, Pat Boone and other crooners of our era.

We've been married for 54 years and that song can still bring tears to my eyes.

My special song is The Twelfth of Never  by Johnny Mathis.

The Twelfth of Never

You ask how much I need you
Must I explain
I need you oh my darling
Like roses need rain

You ask how long I'll love you
I'll tell you true
Until the twelfth of never
I'll still be loving you

Hold me close
Never let me go
Hold me close
Melt my heart like April snow

I'll love you 'till the blue bells forget to bloom
I'll love you 'till the clover has lost its perfume
I'll love you 'till the poets run out of rhyme

Until the twelfth of never
And that's a long long time
Until the twelfth of never
And that's a long long time

(I'm crying ... this song always does it)

What was yours?

Salmon and Musky fishing

Ah, to be young and have a father who both loves fishing and has a nice, big boat to fish from. Our grandson Austin and his Dad, John Paul love to fish.

These photos were taken while on a vacation several years ago with friends who live in Port Washington, Wisconsin, about 25 miles north of Milwaukee and fish Lake Michigan nearly every week.....I should mention that when fishing on Lake Michigan, it really gives you peace of mind to be in a BIG boat.

Port Washington pierhead light as seen from Lake Michigan


It may not be possible to get seasick in a land-locked lake, but from experience, it can! ....bouncing around plus swinging sideways as the big waves hit will scramble all but the hardiest of stomachs! Of course, John, Austin's father smugly says "I've never been seasick in my life".......we cross our fingers that his time doesn't come when he's captaining a boatload of fishermen. (on the other hand, we secretly hope that he will get really seasick and find himself barfing over the side for 10 minutes or so....would serve him right for bragging!)
Austin is 12 years old (2007) and has been a fisherman since he was old enough to hold a rod. I can remember fishing in Minnesota years ago with 3 year old Austin bundled up in a life jacket bigger than he was. He wasn't able to handle a rod and reel too well, but he was a pro when he fished with a bamboo pole. He put quite a dent in the perch and rock bass population of Ten Mile Lake!
This 12 pound salmon was caught by Austin on Lake Michigan. He hooked it himself and fought it to the boat, but needed help with landing it. John and Austin usually fish for fun, they believe in "catch and release" and photos are all that they keep. However, this salmon made it to the dinner table....yummmmm, grilled salmon!!


On another fishing trip earlier this year, this small musky (muskellunge) weighing about 15 lbs was also caught by Austin....no help from Dad this time. After a long and really fun battle, they boated it, took photos and then released it back into the lake. Musky's have a mouth full of lethal teeth and getting the lure out before releasing it can be a real challenge. Sometimes, the fisherman/fisherwoman has a shredded finger to remember the experience. John has the scars to prove it.

My first model train

Hey there, I'm Ken, the other member of the family!

Christmas morning, 1948 will always be one that I won't forget....under the Christmas tree was my first set of model trains.....a Lionel engine and 5 cars!

For an 11 year old boy, that was the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I loved trains but to really have a set of my own was too good to be true. Money was tight in our house. Although Dad had a good job in the office of the Armour Company in Omaha, NE, money was not something that was usually spent on toys! Especially something as EXPENSIVE as an honest-to-goodness set of Lionel trains!
Dad and I built a table out of scrap lumber and we set up the train layout in our basement. Both of us enjoyed running the Lionel and making scenery, mountains and anything else we could think of (and could afford the materials for).

Keeping my little brother out of the layout was a problem....once we found him sitting in the middle of the layout. He wasn't doing anything, just sitting there. I think he climbed up onto it and then was afraid to move. I was a lot more upset than Dad was....

The Lionel setup was my domain, I was the master of the controls, and my world was complete. UNTIL, I went high school (age 13 at that time) and discovered cars and GIRLS! My Lionel went into the box for nearly 40 years.

I have been retired for 8 years and 7 years ago joined a train club....the Nebraska-Iowa Railroaders. We meet monthly at either member's homes or at our club meeting place at Nebraska Crossing where we have some large permanent layouts set up.

The club is contacted frequently by shopping malls, train shows and other events that want to attract visitors. What little boy (or his father) can resist looking at model trains...they will stand for hours watching the ice loader push plastic ice cubes into a train car, a saw mill that cuts logs into wood slabs, and Mel's Diner where the car hops come out on roller skates, bringing food to the cars.

Our portable modules can be transported to the mall or wherever the display will be located. One of our favorite places is Lauritzen Gardens in Omaha, NE.

Lauritzen is a beautifully landscaped flower garden and is also the home of two huge retired Union Pacific engines. Big Boy 4023 along with Centennial 6900 are happily living out their lives in the garden spot of Omaha.

Big Boy 4023 - Omaha, NE .....................Centennial 6900 - Omaha, NE

Our model train club has a free exhibit at Nebraska-Iowa Railroaders Club

Lauritzen Gardens Train Exhibit - Omaha, NE

Costume Party

Only our friend JJ would want to host a costume party in the middle of January in Nebraska. Since she is a fairly new Nebraskan, she has no clue how quickly the weather can change from reasonably bad to really ugly!

JJ and husband have a home on a lake near the Platte River about 18 miles from Omaha....it's a nice drive and since its fairly "woodsy' we usually see a few animals....deer, pheasants, raccoons, and the occasional turkey. But, its somewhat isolated.... many of the owners only are there in the summer so most of the neighboring homes were closed for the winter.

The party was so much fun....bunch of old friends dressing up. I went as a 1960 hippie....I had made a wig out of dyed cotton balls glued on a cap made out of a piece of panty hose. Actually, it looked pretty good. My husband went as an organ grinder, complete with monkey.

It was lightly snowing when we left home but by the time the party was over.....we were in the midst of a blizzard. It must have been hiding somewhere in outstate Nebraska and arrived here faster than expected, because the local weather forecast didn't say anything about having a major snowstorm!

JJ didn't want any one to try to get back to Omaha, so we had a senior slumber party. 8 couples managed to sleep on couches, floors or whereever they could. I won't say that we were comfortable, but it was adventurous. Since we didn't plan on staying overnight, we all slept in our costumes.

I woke up to the sounds of what I thought was gunfire....."hey, this is a game preservation area...no hunting allowed".....but I was wrong. What I was hearing was the sound of tree sap freezing and breaking branches....the temp had really dropped, nearly two feet of snow had fallen AND no electricity.

B-U-M-M-E-R big time! no hot coffee, no bacon and eggs...just cold cereal, chips and dip and whatever was left over from the party.

Getting back to the main road was very tricky....one of the guys had a pickup truck and he blazed the way for us and we all followed each other....a caravan consisting of a hippie, organ grinder, Arab, little black monster, male nurse and surgical team, a couple of "ladies-of-the-street", an overage cheerleader, and members of the "Village People" (yes they did a great rendition of "YMCA").

We all arrived home safely only to find that our own homes were without electicity, downed trees littered the streets, and people were in their yards wondering "what in the heck happened!"

Menards, Lowes, K-Mart and another other stores that sold chain saws sold out within a day. We'd get calls from friends.."hey, I was just at Menards, they got in a new shipment of chain saws!"....or "don't bother going to Lowes, they're sold out".

An act of kindness

Winter is cold in Nebraska and today was typical – 4 degrees above zero at 9 am. The tail end of a sleet storm had hit Sunday night and the streets were covered with both snow and ice. It was windy, cold and spitting snow. The best place to be was at home.

But, here we were, attending the funeral of an old and loved friend.

As we were leaving the church, preparing for the long drive to the cemetery, I felt a tug on my arm. An old gentleman who had been sitting in front of us in church was standing there with his car keys in his hand.

He said “would you please go to the parking lot and bring my car to the door….I’m afraid that my wife will slip on the ice.” Now mind you, I did not know this man and he didn’t know me, but here he was giving me the keys to his car.

I took the keys, asked where he had parked and what kind of car it was…”white”…”Ok, but what model” “it’s a van”….

Because the departed was a dear friend, we had been asked to ride to church in the mortuary’s limo. The other occupants, her daughter and son-in-law, were starting to leave the church so I didn’t have time to quiz him about his van. I planned to push the horn button until a white van answered.

I told my husband to wait in the limo and I would find the van. The funeral was not large. Many of the older family members and friends did not attend due to the weather.

To make a long story short, I found the van, (using the honking horn as my guide) and drove it to the church door. The elderly gentleman and his wife were waiting for me. They did not go to the cemetery nor to the luncheon following the ceremony so to this day, I don't know who they were and I have never seen them again.

Although this wasn’t an outstanding act of kindness, in my heart I felt that I had done something very good.

Baby Andrew and sister Rebecca

Andrew Michael is growing up so fast. He is 3 weeks old now and is doing everything that a baby that size does.....eat, look around, sleep and of course, the ole diaper thing.

The newness of having a baby brother is wearing off a little..Rebecca is back to reading and practicing her flute instead of hovering over his bassinet watching him. But, she's still "johnny-on-the-spot: when her mom needs a "go-for", i.e. she goes for the bottle, goes for the spit-up towel, goes for a fresh diaper, etc. She hasn't had the diapering by herself experience yet, but says that she's ready! Obviously, she hasn't been around when Andrew does his "big job".....his father has been known to come out of the nursery gasping for breath.

Andrew's daddy is a great father....he does his share of diapering, feeding and cuddling with his little son. Years ago, when my children were tiny babies, Ken was scared to even touch them. We were cautioned "be careful of the "soft spot" on their heads", "support their heads when you pick them up" and "burp them over your shoulder" as opposed to sitting them up on your lap and patting their backs....Way too much for an father in 1960 to handle.

Rebecca and Andrew will be taking their first plane trip within the next week. Our daughter Christine and her family live in Naperville, Illinois and will be expecting us all there for Thanksgiving. Since the baby is so small, his parents decided that flying will be the quickest way to make the trip.

Ken and I will drive and will be carrying all the essentials that baby's need....bassinet, 249 disposable diapers, can of powdered baby formula, baby swing, clothing and everything else that would be troublesome to carry around an airline terminal. We can't take the car seat since they will be renting a car at the airport and will need it. Luckily, they are leaving the kitchen sink at home (grin).

Our New Grandson -- Andrew Michael

Our newest grandson arrived on Wednesday, October 17, 2007.......he is perfect....wide eyed and bushy tailed the moment he entered this world. He is now two weeks old (10/31/07) and the darling of the family. His ten year old sister, Rebecca, is overjoyed to have a baby brother.....at age 10, they are mothers-in-minature....willing and wanting to help mom with the new baby. I hope that continues!

Lets flash ahead about 5 years.....Rebecca is 15 and sweet little Drew is 5! He is in that tiresome stage of "she's looking at me!!" or "she's touching me!".....the "she's looking at me" usually occurs while having breakfast....Drew has circled his plate with cereal boxes and is hunkered down behind them. What?? is he afraid that Rebecca will watch him chew? Or is it just a way to aggravate his older sister and drive his mom up-the-wall????? Who knows!

Next comes the "she's touching me" stage.....normally occurring when they are seated in the back seat of the car (where by the way, Mom and Dad can't reach him). Both are next to a window, a big nice space between them.....but if you watch closely, you'll see Rebecca reach over and poke her 5 year old brother on the arm.....and then turn back to her window, the picture of innocence. Older sisters aren't above being a little ornery once in a while.

But, as the years pass, things get better. Becca is her little brother's hero.....the one he goes to when he's in trouble.....the one who takes him trick or treating on Halloween (she loves that holiday and taking Drew around the neighborhood is as much fun for her as it is for him), and the ONE who will eventually pass judgment on any girl who is brave enough to want to date HER "little brother" (he may b 6' 2" tall, but will always be her "little brother" and girls are notoriously protective of their "little brothers".)

Drew's uncle Jeff has great plans to turn him into a place kicker for the Miami Dolphins football team. "Place kickers seldom get hurt and make lots of money"......the rest of the family doesn't give a hoot about what Drew's future occupation will be, and are so thankful to God that he was born healthy and that his mom came through the birth just fine.

By the way, in case you have a potential new mother in your future, remember this! If she isn't going to breast feed, she is going to get mighty uncomfortable in the days after the little one's birth. Years ago when my children were born, we were given pills or a shot to help dry up one's milk supply....that obviously isn't done any more. Now, non-breast feeding mothers are supposed to "tough it out" with ice packs and tight binding.

This is an old fashioned remedy....don't know where it came from, but I laughed about it when I heard it years ago.

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Buy a large head of CABBAGE.....have the new mother put a few leaves in her bra...changing the leaves several times a day. Something in the cabbage will cause the milk to dry up. Also, have her drink Sage Tea, either hot or cold. She can add honey to the tea (actually Nancy said it tastes pretty good).

I imagine that the cabbage remedy originated with the pioneers. I don't know what they did if the baby was born in the winter months...... "toughed it out" I guess.

Christmas lights! Bah Humbug!

Its nearly Christmas and time to hang the Christmas lights, bring out the little white deer and green Christmas tree and start assembling the yearly display.

Its not that I don't enjoy the sparkling decorations of Christmas lights, its just such a job to put them up and later take them down.
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I don't actually hang the little devils, that's my husband's job. He gets so much enjoyment out of standing on a ladder and hooking the string of lights onto the cup hooks that we've got screwed into the porch railing and eaves of the house. (he's a retired electrician....to his way of thinking...this is FUN) Since we live in Nebraska, the time to hang decorations is shortly after Thanksgiving, when the temperature is in the 20's and there's usually a stiff wind blowing.
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Every year Ken sees something that catches his eye....this year it was an 11 foot long 3 foot high metal train that is outlined by tiny lights. He saw the beauty in it, I saw another hour of being out in the cold and then trying to straighten out the multitude of wires that kept the lighting system together.
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At this time of year, we visit Menards nearly every few days...fortunately (unfortunately?) its very close to our home. This train was displayed on the east wall, and it was love at first sight. Ken is a model train enthusiast, and anything remotely resembling a train catches his eye.
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I'm not keen on climbing ladders, so my job is straightening out last year's mess of lights and determining which ones no longer work. I thought last year we made an effort to neatly wrap the stringers around a big box to keep them from getting tangled. I was wrong....we didn't do it...must have been on my "to do" list.
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I could never understand why, after sitting quietly for a year, some of the lights decide to no longer light. They were just fine for Christmas last winter...what major event happened in their lives to cause them to quit working?
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Bad news! Looks like we'll be making another trip to Lowes or Menards today.....we don't have enough working lights! I'll have to check to see who has them on sale.

We store the Christmas decorations in our backyard shed....evidentally it has become the "mouse motel". Lots of evidence of that. All it takes is for one mouse to taste test a stringer of lights, and poof! that stringer is history.
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I think next year one stringer will be plugged in to the light socket in the shed.....then we'll see who goes "poof"..... the lights or the mouse!

Green Thumb - NOT

In plain ole every day terms, a person who has a “green thumb” is a skilled gardener. The seedlings that they plant with loving care…grow! They don’t wilt down two days after being planted, never to raise their heads again. Mr/Mrs.Green Thumb can buy (or be given) the worst looking plant in the nursery, the one that was on the "dead and dying" pile, and nurse it back to life. There’s magic in those fingers!

On the other hand, there are people who were born with a “brown thumb” and are not good at all at handling (or growing) plants. This person should NEVER buy or be given any living greenery; flowers, trees, or shrubs. They won’t grow! They will wilt, turn brown, mold, and end up where no plant wants to be….in the garbage can.

Well, meet Mrs. Brown Thumb!

I will sadly admit that when I bring a plant into my house, the first thing I do is make the “sign of the cross” over it and wish it good luck.

When I was first married, my dear, sweet mother-in-law would bring me tiny African violets, no bigger than my thumb, that she had carefully raised from a seedling or however they multiply. I would cringe when I saw her coming, little decorated flower pot in hand, smiling like I was about to get the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

SHE had the magical green thumb….she raised African violets by the dozen…pink ones, blue ones, double ones, single ones and they were all beautiful and healthy. They were in her front window, in the kitchen window, the bathroom window and on the porch…all blooming like crazy. Oh yes, she also grew Christmas cactus that actually bloomed every year. Another one of my disappointments.

My failure with the African Violets, I was told, was that I watered them too much and dripped water on their leaves. Well, excuse me! If the forebearers of those African violets lived outdoors anytime in their history, they would have gotten water on their leaves. It rains almost everywhere at one time or another. Unless Africa was one big dry greenhouse.

But no matter how many poor little defenseless violets I managed to either drown or caused to shrivel up, she always kept trying to turn me into a "green thumb by proxy".....never worked!

As for the Christmas cactus, I followed the instructions that I was given…."keep them in a dark place for several weeks and they would start to put on blooms."

Wrong again….I think I had the male variety because once it had bloomed, it decided that motherhood was not for it …"no more blooms for me honey....look for a lady cactus"

Time in a Bottle

Who wouldn't like to "save time in a bottle"....who wouldn't want to go back to a time when all you thought about was playing ball in the park, going to the 10 cent movie, or listening to your favorite stories on the radio.
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My time would be in 1948 when I was 10 years old. We lived near a park where we spent most of our time....playing "Tag" and chasing each other until we ran out of breath and tumbled onto the ground. No bad guys roamed the streets, parent's didn't worry about children's safety and we all knew that it was time to go home "when the streetlights came on".

My parents, brothers and sister were alive and I remember the fun we had together. We didn't have a television, computers were some big magical machines in a far away office, and we had a telephone that was attached to the wall by a cord. Dinner was at 5:00 in the evening.....and we were expected to be there.

We didn't belong to scheduled leagues of anything. If we played ball, it was in the corner lot, if we played soccar, it was just kicking a ball around in the park.

We grew up loving our country....respecting our flag.....an having no fear of police, just a good healthy respect for their authority.

We also respected our school teachers or feared them enough to behave in class. And if we didn't, if we were in trouble in school, we knew that we'd be in even more trouble when we got home. The only "time outs" we were familiar with were those spent in the school "cloak room".

We had many good friends. Sometimes you fought with them, but the next day you were best friends again. You were your own little community....and your life was good.

So my "time in a bottle" contains memories.....and I'll never forget them.

If I could save time in a bottle
The first thing that Id like to do
Is to save every day

Till eternity passes away
Just to spend them with you

If I could make days last forever
If words could make wishes come true
I'd save every day like a treasure and then,
Again, I would spend them with you

But there never seems to be enough time
To do the things you want to do
Once you find them
Ive looked around enough to know
That you're the one I want to go
Through time with

If I had a box just for wishes
And dreams that had never come true
The box would be empty
Except for the memory
Of how they were answered by you

But there never seems to be enough time
To do the things you want to do
Once you find them

Ive looked around enough to know
That you're the one I want to go
Through time with

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Jim Croce sang this song in his 1972 album

"You Don't Mess Around With Jim".