It’s been a roller coaster of emotions with my daughter being sick with cancer, but it is a great relaxation to blog about someone in our family who reached a  milestone that no one else on Mom’s or Dad’s side of the family has ever met. My sister Brenda and her husband Ronald celebrated 50 years of marriage last year September 25, 2015. Their children surprised them with a 50th Wedding Anniversary banquet. It was just beautiful. And just this past Sunday they celebrated 51 years of marriage! Let’s all stand up and applaud. She was 19 years old and he was 24 when they married.  She just turned 70 and he’ll be 75 in December.

No one else in our entire family has ever reached that milestone, due to death of a spouse or divorce of a spouse. My grandparents, parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, in-laws, and siblings.  Mr. and Mrs. Wilbert Ronald Evans have the distinction of being married 51 years this past Sunday, September 25, 2016. That record gives one hope in this non-committed society where anything like a shoe size is cause for divorce. It’s an honor to know anyone who has weathered the storm and came out wiser for it.

If you remember, my sister Brenda was named after one of my dad’s sisters, and she has the distinction of being the oldest of all the grandchildren on my Mom’s side, too.



Cutting Anniversary cake
Mr. and Mrs. Wilbert and Brenda Evans Golden Anniversary Banquet







              Aunt Ella age 87
Infant Aunt Ella in 1929 with her older brother

What can I say about my Aunt Ella? So much. She was always so animated to me. She was a person I looked forward to seeing. We all loved to go to her house and stay overnight. If we couldn’t stay overnight, we’d stay just for a visit. No matter, we love her to this moment. Now she was not without her own set of idiosyncrasies:

When a child is 5 or 6 years old and Aunt Ella comes over making you smile and laugh  you warm up to her. So, as a child you ask, “Aunt Ella, how old are you?” She would answer, “I’m 19.” Whenever she said that, we would believe her. We were 5 and 6 years old, so 19 seemed a BIG age. Plus, no one ever refuted her statement. But when you are about 10-12 years of age and ask Aunt Ella, how old she is and her rely is, “I’m 19,” you begin to wonder whether that statement is true or not. When you turn 18 or 19 and ask that same question of Aunt Ella and she replies, “I’m 19,” you know that for many years she had been pulling your leg.  Check this out:

  1. Whenever she came over she made all of us kids stand in line as she gave us all a big spoonful of COD LIVER OIL! Yuck.cod-liver-oil
  2. Whenever you stayed with her your breakfast was Ralston Purina Hot Wheat Cereal, there was never an exceptionoldbox-ralston
  3. She always made you work, but never called it work. She said, “take this into the basement, while you’re resting.”
  4. She always taught us to marry for money: “Looks can’t feed ya.”
  5. She called my daddy “Son.” All the time. He was her brother-in-law.
  6. She was color struck: “Only marry ‘white meat’.” One great niece did that. No one else.
  7. You have never been disciplined until she used a switch on your legs.
  8. She is royalty: She calls herself the Queen of Spain!
  9. After all these years, when asked how old she is, she says, “I’m almost 20.”

There’s no one like her. Love you Auntie. More tomorrow.




Thank you all for traveling Jonathan’s Way with me. There’s so much more that I can share, but it’s not necessary right now. Suffice it to say that Jonathan is a true gift from God! He is such a unique individual and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

As I write this post, he is next to me with his phone (His Aunt Jennifer gave it to him) and his ear buds in and laughing about something he is watching on YouTube. I had no idea that YouTube had things like contests for kids to guess which fries or nuggets or ice creams are the best. Traveling Jonathan’s way, I now know that.

The last video game I played before Facebook was Pac-Man on an old Nintendo. Jonathan introduced me to Pokemon Go! He laughs and laughs watching people on YouTube play it. I am just not interested in it at all. Right now he is watching bowling on it and commenting, “Seriously?”

He is reaching out for me now just touching my arm, nothing else, no requests. He feels at ease and comfortable with me. He feels safe. I am glad for that feeling he has. The world we live in isn’t safe all the time for our children.


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In September he begins middle school and the journey starts over. It’s a new beginning for him and for me and for all of our family, as we travel Jonathan’s way. One of the best bloggers I know is David Snape, and  when I asked him a few days ago what advice he had for me about Jonathan going into middle school, he simply said that he is going to learn a lot in these next five years. He also said that Jonathan would be alright. Thanks David. I appreciate you.

Hey guys, don’t be a stranger. I am a book editor, but I also love reading your blogs. If you have some tips or  even advice for me as I travel Jonathan’s way, feel free to share it!

Don’t forget, I’m here for you.





Preschool Jonathan
Preschool Jonathan

Home from School

Grandma stands in the window of the front door of her apartment complex.
A sunless sky and darkening clouds meet her. Grandma buttons up her coat and
stuffs her hands in the pockets and leans on the window. Jonathan’s bus will pull up
any minute now. He has been in school since he was 2 ½ years old. School has been
so good for him. Jonathan’s teachers are excellent and best of all they understand
how to reach him. They give Grandma progress reports and daily notes to inform
her of what went on during classes so she can keep it going. They give her tips on
communicating with him. Their suggestions work and have been beneficial to
Grandma and her little grandson, Jonathan.
The bus pulls up in front of the apartment complex. The doors to the bus
open. The bus driver unbuckles Jonathan’s safety belt and the four-year old darts
off the bus. The sound of the engine at rest makes Jonathan nervous and he runs
away from it, fleeing to his ever constant retreat – Grandma.
“Bye bus,” Jonathan waves. Grandma joins him in his wave, both watching the
bus drive away. The bus stops at the end of the driveway to wait for traffic to
pass. Jonathan waits, too. He has to see the bus leave before he can begin his walk
down the long walk way to the front door of the apartment complex. It’s his way.
The bus begins to pull out onto the road. Jonathan waves again at the small
yellow bus taking Grandma’s hand with the other.
“Bye bus.”
With that, Jonathan and Grandma walk down the sidewalk towards the front
door. Grandma opens the door and walks in but it’s Jonathan who has to be the one
to close it behind them.
Permission lovingly given to share this excerpt from Jonathan’s Way by Lynnette Roman


I want to begin today a series on my autistic grandson. There are many who are challenged with ASD and my grandson is one of them. The journey has been difficult for him and for me, but the rewards have been just as numerous. Please, join me as I travel Jonathan’s Way.


Circumstances lead to my husband and I raising our only grandchild. We had already raised six children – four girls and two boys. They were all grown or a year from it, and we found ourselves as empty nesters. I was so happy about it. I would joke with some of our friends that since we were alone in our home, that we’d get a motorcycle and travel the country. (That sounds good right now). Well, when one day we found we were going to be grandparents, it was novel. At the ripe age of two weeks old we saw our grandson and the feeling went from novel to wonderful. We were truly transformed into grandparents, and I vowed to spoil him. That wasn’t to be. 

Without going into a long story, we wound up with him just for his protection when he was two months old and officially since he was seven months old. So, I put the motorcycle trip on the back burner and said, “Oh Well” and began raising another child when I was 52 years old.

At 12 months old, exactly 1-year-old, he walked. He began walking the day he turned a year old. I noticed at that time that he started walking on his tip toes. I didn’t think anything of it at that time. “A dysfunctional vestibular system, a common problem in autism, may be responsible for toe walking.”  

As far as I knew, it was cute. In fact I never knew anything was wrong with his toe walking until he was 2-1/2 years old. That’s when I began to travel Jonathan’s Way.

More tomorrow, but please share with me the way you have taken with any special needs person you know and love.

(Online reference:



Let me know if you think I am right.  

We are kindred, all of us because we are all human beings.  We are men and women. That’s a given.  But I see today everyone wanting to make sure that they are in line with what’s popular or God forbid – regular.  Don’t get me wrong I believe that there are some things that must be absolute for people to remain people (love, kindness, compassion, respect, non-violence, fairness, etc.)  But come on, must every writer be the same and write about the same things; say the same words, use the same current topics, the same jargon, the same usual, regular, boring genres in the same usual way…… drawing of man sleeping

I think you get my drift.  Even if you have the same topic must it always be just like everyone else’s?  For instance, many people with great writing skills they’ve not yet tapped into write about sex.  Why? Because it sells. 

yawn sign


Please, stop and think about it.  You are a writer.  There’s a vast universe of topics and subject matter to choose to write about and all that comes to mind is sex. Wow, how boring.  (Yes, I said ‘boring’). You are unique and have unique experiences that make  your writing specific to you. Don’t limit yourself to what is ‘popular’ and heaven forbid, to what sells.  That talent you have is more than you know.  Don’t suppress it, don’t ignore it, don’t limit it.  The world and the universe is at your disposal.  Put it on paper and bring it to the masses who truly love to read a unique and good book.  When it’s finished send it to me.  I’ll get it ready for your publisher. You know that I’m here for you.

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