That DNA Thing

I'm a little blogging challenged today in that I could not seem to get three pictures into one post. I'd go to move one around and then lose it. When you get past 45 it happens.

Anyway, the point I was going to make in one post is this: That DNA thing sure is something, isn't it? I was looking at these pictures and was suddenly shocked to see the face that kept repeating itself.

I never knew my great-grandfather, and I was four when my grandfather died. I do remember him. He sat in what seemed like a big comfy chair by the door of grandma's living room. Grandma kept magazines inside the footstool that went with the chair. We called him Pop! Whenever I would run in the door and try to run past his chair, he would always grab me and kiss my face. He'd turn me upside down, and I remember laughing and screaming.

Uncle Buddy was a wonderful uncle. He would always talk politics or history with me, and he never ever made feel bad if I disagreed with him, unlike a couple of his kids. I always knew he cared deeply for my mom and her family. Our families always spent Thanksgiving and Christmas together, and when I was younger, we would always try to get together several times during the summer. I always felt close to his children; his daughter, Rhonda, was the matron of honor at my wedding. I would post a picture of Steve, Buddy's oldest son, but I haven't asked him for permission yet. That Webb face continues to repeat itself.

That DNA thing surely is amazing.