Taggart

(Blessing Day, with Willene Wise)

(M.T.C. antics)

(With girl scout troop at the Jensen Historical Farm, Logan, UT)

(he's home...breathe...)

(Bloomington, IN, 1980)

(with the neighborhood lab, Taffy, Logan)

(Homecoming, Philadelphia International Airport)

(just plain worn out, at the sitter's in Austin when I went to girls' camp, 1983)

(summer reading program, West Caldwell, NJ 1999)

(Baby Bear in Goldilocks production--1st grade, Sugar City, Idaho)

(Eagle scout project)

(apparently the only one "feelin' it"!)

(Finland)

Taggart got the best name. He has always worn it well.  His birthday fell on the 24th of July.  He spent his first night on earth out on the street watching the neighbors set off fireworks in Provo.  Not a bad way to start a life.  HIs other claim to fame was that Donny Osmond's wife delivered a baby in the same hospital on the same day, so if you meet any Osmonds ask them when they were born.  Taggart was the greatest baby.  When he was one month old, his father and I took him back to the doctor to be circumsized.  I didn't have the nerves for that, so I took a long walk around the parking lot.  Unfortunately, I didn't stay gone long enough, and when I came back there was my baby boy stretched out on a board screaming.  That haunted me for a long time.   The next day we left for Indiana University in Bloomington, and Taggart bellered most of the way because he was just uncomfortable due to his procedure.  He quieted down in Iowa somewhere. He turned cute very quickly and jaw-dropping-stranger-stop-in the street-and-goggle-at-him adorable when he was about six months old.  I remember that his immunization shot must not have been as sanitary as prescribed because it festered all up, and his leg swelled.   Pus!  I had to have it treated.  He had a dimple scar there for a long time. 

  In Bloomington we lived at the end of a long long hall on the top (ninth) floor of a high rise student housing complex.  I had to carry baby and groceries and sometimes an uncooperative toddler from the parking lot.  When the elevator wasn't working, it was just plain awful.  I bought an old English perambulator at a yard sale that I could dump both kids into, and that made getting around easier.  We could then get out and enjoy the spectacular Indiana autumn colors around the building. Taggart loved to fall asleep cozied down in that.  Shelly insisted  on rolling him around our apartment floor.  He giggled so hard that he'd stop breathing momentarily!  He made the most unusual baby sounds by drawing his breath in while he made noises.

When we moved to Texas, Taggart (age 4) said something that has become family lore and actually pretty good words to live by:  A large roach (common there) was crawling up our white wall.  Chris smashed it with a shoe, and Taggart wryly commented, "Such is life as a roach..."  Another time (also in Texas), one of Thomas' dirty cloth diapers had been temporarily placed in the toilet.  A mystery person accidentally flushed it causing a minor catastrophe flood.  Taggart walked in on this and casually asked, "Who peed???"

Taggart has always been a classic middle child.  He jockied for position to be the oldest (a physically impossible feat) but then would fall back and vie to get the attention as the youngest.  He sometimes picked on the others too much.  But for the most part, everyone played well and skipped through childhood.  Taggart had a firm grasp on the value of making money.  The first word he learned how to spell was 'entrepreneur'.  He excelled at spelling and won a spelling bee at Sugar City Elementary as a first grader--beating out kids in higher grades.  Ironically at another championship bee, the word 'school' brought him down!

I remember waking up with just Taggart in the middle of the night as our AMTRAK train passed through Pittsburgh.  The lights made it magical, and we shared the moment.  And my saddest Taggart story--a true mothering low--we were shopping in Ogden.  Taggart was about 11 or 12.  He took me over to a jewelry case and asked me what I thought of a certain clown pin.  I blurted out, "That's the ugliest thing I've ever seen!"  He teared up.  And yes, that pin had already been purchased.  It went under the Christmas tree.  I wear it EVERY Mother's Day now as a silent testament.  (When I went to take its picture I searched and searched and couldn't find it!  True panic!!!  But then I found it tucked carefully away in a special bag I had taken to China...I guess I've grown attached to it.)

Taggart had a special bond with his grandpa Taggart.  It must have been the name to a degree.  One can only pause and wonder if our family history would have been different had that grandpa been allowed to live longer.  Taggart has a special place in my heart. He has lifted my mother soul many times with his sweet expressions of appreciation to me.  I am so so happy he is part of my story.