Long Hollow

With Angels Nearby

It's a scary feeling...your kids going out the door on their own. It doesn't help knowing parents have been doing it since time began. You know...you KNOW...things can happen to your kids. You know it just takes a second...a blink of an eye...a tire on a wet road...

But you also know they can't grow up if you don't let them go when it's time. So you pray.

It's a scary feeling when you get that phone call..."Mom, I just had an accident." Your heart jumps, but right away you give thanks that you hear their voice...that it's them making the call - not someone else. If someone else makes the call...that's when you really start praying.

And when they get behind the wheel of a car for the first time...well, when my oldest got behind the wheel of a car for the first time...my prayers went up a few notches. It helps that I believe in angels. I believe there are more angels than we can imagine...enough that I don't feel guilty at all asking God for a squadron to escort my kids, especially if they are driving somewhere. I envision those angels surrounding the vehicle, prepared to cushion and protect it and my babies if necessary.

I believe they were there on a rainy day years ago when Tommy's car didn't make a curve, flew off the road into the trees, missed every one and landed on a pile of mulch, unharmed except for the car's flat tire. I believe they were there a year or so later when he was almost T-boned coming out of a parking lot by a speeding car. Tommy saw it just in time and accelerated; the car hit just behind the driver's seat. Again, no injuries, but the car was totaled.

I believe they were there a few years ago when a truck plowed head-on into Daniel's little Mazda. A friend had to deliver the news - I had left the house without my cell phone - but she was able to tell me Daniel was okay. Still, pulling up to that intersection...seeing the ambulance, the crunched Mazda, the smashed truck...that was tough. Daniel was sitting in the back of the ambulance, getting checked out. No injuries except a scratch on the nose from the airbag. Not even any burns.

And I believe they were there this morning when Kendall turned left on the wet road, the tires lost traction, the Suzuki Samurai spun, hit the curb and flipped, landing on the driver's side. No other vehicle hit her. Several pulled off to check on her; one man helped her out.

"Mom, I just had an accident..." She must have made the call while lying there on her side.

I was so grateful to hear her voice...so grateful for those angels.

The Season Continues...

"Over the next day hug your spouse, kiss your child, call your relatives, watch the sunset, watch the sunrise, thank your God and relish your life." - David Rohde, American reporter

Every so often, I need a day at home with no expectations...a day where I can sleep late...ignore to-do lists...bounce along from one thing to the next. Today was almost one of those day...I still had a little laundry to move around and dishes to wash...but it was as close as I've come in a very long time. We slept until we woke up, the sun already shining mid-morning bright into the bedroom. Max was forgiving about the late breakfast - he really didn't even seem that hungry, and took his time about eating. And I didn't mind...it gave me more time to just relax on the porch swing, admiring the clear blue sky and the sunlight streaking through the smoke drifting down from the chimney into the trees.

There was no cooking today whatsoever. The refrigerator is crammed with leftovers and everyone was on their own about meals and eating. Myself...I tried to cut back. I even managed three miles on the treadmill and it made me feel a lot better about the cyclops cookies I enjoyed with my morning coffee. And the peppermint bark. And the pumpkin pie.

Tom and I took the critters for a walk after lunch. Watching Max with Josie made us feel a little guilty about not getting him a puppy - it's been years since he's had someone to play with like this. But then Josie took off after Frankie (just for fun, but Frankie didn't know that - he was freaking out!)...

I'll stick with my original plan of seeing what wanders up next.

Tommy's longtime friend Graham stopped by soon after lunch. They spent a few hours watching episodes of "Arrested Development" and then we played ping-pong until it was impossible to see the ball and our hands were frozen on the paddles.

Now more of their friends have arrived...there are four Eagle Scouts in one kitchen. Does that happen very often?

I treasure my long-time friendships and it makes me glad to see my kids keeping their connections strong as well, despite addresses changing from our small town to Chicago, New York City and other dots on the world map.

Tomorrow we'll continue to celebrate this Christmas season, carrying it to my childhood home for a few days. I'm grateful I have the opportunity. It wouldn't seem like Christmas, otherwise.

Max's favorite present...a few days with Josie...

Tommy and Graham playing ping-pong, with Max and Frankie the referee close by...

On Christmas Day

Christmas is different when your kids get older...instead of staying up late wrapping presents on Christmas Eve, you tell them goodnight and hope you wake up early enough to make sure Santa has done his job before they wake up. Even after they're older, you still want to play the game.

We shared Mass with a church-full of people last night - many I didn't recognize. Were they all visiting? Or were they the kind who only attend church on Christmas and Easter? It doesn't matter - I know from experience that even a visit here and there can touch your heart.

We watched movies with the kids after Mass and stayed up late...therefore we slept late...but not as late as our kids. Tommy got up relatively early because he's puppy-sitting his girlfriend's dog Josie - I don't mind...I couldn't ask for a sweeter "grandpuppy". So he, Tom and I ate breakfast together...a huge breakfast of eggs, bacon and toast we only have three times a year...on Christmas, Mother's Day and Father's Day.

Daniel and Kendall finally woke up (with a little help from Tommy and Josie) but no one was in a hurry to open presents. Tom, Tommy, Josie, Max and I went for a walk - Max doesn't know what to think of Josie, a Rottwieler/terrier mix...she's a little tornado, running and spinning in circles around him. He's smitten.

It has been a beautiful day...full of sunshine and blue skies. We didn't buy many presents, so I spent the day in the kitchen, trying to fulfill wishes...baking a turkey, dressing, pumpkin pie, broccoli cheese casserole...all the things they asked for, but so out of character for me. I have cooked more in the last month than I have in two years! The boys were wonderful...Tommy chopped veggies for me, Daniel hung around ready to do whatever I needed, from sauteing celery and onion to playing a quick game of ping-pong before it got too dark...one of the things I'd hoped for for Christmas.

Dinner was traditional turkey and dressing, on my rarely used wedding china and crystal, followed by pumpkin pie and everyone crowded on a couch downstairs to watch the new Star Trek movie.

Tommy slipped out early to visit with his longtime friend Graham...we took over watching Josie for him, so she ended up on the couch with us for a little while. We figured it was our job to spoil her just a little more.

It's time for bed, but I glanced at Facebook just to check up on all my "people" and came across this note by my cousin Joanna, which I thought was a wonderful reminder for all of us about what Christmas is all about; we are all angels if we choose to be...

"Now I don't claim to be a writer but I am a thinker. I have family members who are writers, my daughter Ashley and my very talented cousin Barbara.
But I do want to share an interesting thing that happened yesterday on the way home from my parents. We stopped at a new little country store in Buna, Tx. I am recovering from bronchitis and not feeling a 100 % and truth be known, blue from having to leave my parents home on christmas eve to go back to work. Anyways the family went in the store, I stayed in the van with the grandson. I guess I must have looked sad, sick or something because I looked up to catch a man's eye. He mouthed Merry Christmas, I smiled and mouthed back Merry Christmas. He smiled and mouthed Its going to be okay, and pointed to the sky and smiled the most perfect smile that lit his whole face up. Well I smiled backed and thanked him. That perfect stranger made my day so much brighter and reminded me that Jesus is the reason for this season. Not presents, nor not getting to spend the day of Christmas with my parents, but because of his birth and everything his life became. I get so bogged down in silly things that I forget that reason ALOT!! Well I never claim to be perfect.
I hope everyone had a Merry Christmas and I hope this new year brings happiness and healing to all those who need it. This past year has been really hard and trying on alot of friends and family members. I will continue to write down my thoughts, so bear with me, because I am a thinker not a writer... " 

I beg to differ on the "writer" part...and to think I used to babysit this girl...! Her note reminded me of this quote I read in Catholic Digest magazine...

"I am not alone at all, I thought. I was never alone at all. And that, of course, is the message of Christmas. We are never alone. Not when the night is darkest, the wind coldest, the world seemingly most indifferent. For this is still the time God chooses." - Taylor Caldwell, American writer

We are not alone because Jesus is God but he was also a man...he experienced what we experience...friendship, family, love...loss, disappointment, loneliness...there is nothing we can feel that he hasn't already experienced himself.

No matter what we feel, he understands. That's almost the best Christmas gift ever. Merry Christmas, everyone!

It's Christmas Eve...

Last night Tom and I fell asleep with the sound of voices in our ears...the rare sound of young voices just outside our bedroom door fighting to be heard in their eagerness to share stories, peppered with shouts, gasps and laughs. It's been months since we've had anything but silence in our ears as we drift off, and in the not-so-distant past, I would have been up shushing those voices and shooing them downstairs so I could get some sleep.

But last night the voices brought a smile to my face, and despite the ruckus, I was out within minutes.

I loved having these kids back in my house...I say "kids" even though technically they're all adults now, ranging in age from 18 to 21, recently returned from Egypt, New York City, China and various cities in Texas...but to me they'll always be kids, and when I look at them, I'll see them as they were in elementary school...junior high...high school. As students...actors...band members...scouts...soccer, basketball and football players.

I didn't have a lot of books of my own when I was growing up, but book-addict that I am, you can bet that I still have every single one of them. For some reason having all those kids here, listening to their stories about experiences far from our small town, reminded me of one of my favorites...The Seven Wonderful Cats...just a little children's book about an old lady that adopts seven kittens. In one part she lets them go away to school. She misses them terribly, but soon they return and entertain her with stories about their adventures away from home. Last night I felt like Dame Wiggins of Lee (the old lady in the book), amazed at and proud of the experiences and accomplishments of these kids that have grown up before my eyes.

Today I can hear the wind roaring through the trees outside. A cold front blew in last night, dropping temperatures 30 degrees to a more Christmas-y level. Tom is cleaning out the wood-burning stove, preparing to start a fire. What little shopping I had to do is done and now my Christmas Eve day will be spent baking cookies, wrapping a few gifts, hanging out with the kids, praying for Tommy's safe arrival this afternoon and sharing Christmas Eve Mass with my whole gang.

I hope all of you have a blessed Christmas as well...

My idea of Christmas, whether old-fashioned or modern, is very simple: loving others. Come to think of it, why do we have to wait for Christmas to do that? - Bob Hope American comedian  and actor, 20th century

 

The Christmas Story Luke 2:1-20

1 In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world. 2 (This was the first census that took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria.) 3 And everyone went to his own town to register. 4 So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. 5 He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child.

6 While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, 7 and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn. 8 And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. 9 An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. 10 But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. 11 Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ [a] the Lord. 12 This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger." 13 Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, 14 Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests." 15 When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, "Let's go to Bethlehem ad see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about." 16 So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. 17 When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, 18 and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. 19 But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. 20 The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told.

 

 

Those Little Things

This will not be a 'big' Christmas for us, as in piles of wrapped gifts under the tree. We're already buried under college loans and (yes, I hate to admit it) credit card debt....all those family trips and Fiftieth Birthday get-togethers are catching up with us, I guess. No need to bury ourselves any further with gifts we don't need.

And the key word is need. Sure...maybe I dream of new towels that aren't stained and frayed...and I admit I slow down near the jewelry, shoe and purse departments...and wouldn't it be nice to have a real leather coat...?

But I don't need any of those things (perhaps the towels, but even those can wait a little while longer. And who wants towels for Christmas, anyway??)

Fortunately, our kids are old enough to understand this, and that if they really need something, we'll help them get it. More fortunately, they are great kids who haven't asked for anything...in fact, they won't give me any ideas at all to pass on to Santa. Maybe they feel paying half of their college costs is enough. 

(Here's some advice for new parents...think carefully about the traditions you begin. When ours were small, we had this brilliant idea...we explained that Santa only delivered one present apiece to each child in the world because he had so many to take care of! Anything else came from us, and if they didn't get much, it was because we didn't have much money. That way Santa's reputation was never tarnished, my kids didn't get complexes thinking Santa liked their friends more than them, we didn't feel we had to buy them everything they asked for, and they knew they weren't getting everything they wanted, so they needed to think hard about it.)

My problem is I still want to give...I want to hit the malls and buy all of my friends and family at least one gift. I want to hide in the library with wrapping paper, tape, bows and tags and disguise all of the gifts...imagining the delighted expressions on my loved ones' faces when they rip into the wrapping and see what I bought them.

I'm trying to flip my brain around...think of ways to give without spending (much) money. After all, some of the things I've been given that mean the most to me haven't cost a dime.

For instance, Daniel is sitting behind me as I write, watching a program on PBS about Christianity in ancient Rome...he's telling me about papers and things he translated in his Latin class this semester that are mentioned on the program...stories about saints and other historical figures he learned about. For a while Kendall lounged next to him on the couch and in between talking to me, they talked about kids from school...laughing, teasing, sharing.

Now they're heading out the door together...she has talked him into going with her into town to hang out with friends....

What more could they give me than to enjoy each other's company?

The only thing my family has asked me for is food: I will be cooking and cooking over the holidays...Daniel requested Cyclops cookies and King Ranch casserole...Tom requested turkey and dressing...Kendall requested broccoli cheese casserole...Tommy just requested "food" in general. (My gift...all three kids will be here again!)

Yesterday morning Kendall and I stopped by the veterinarian's office on our way to work. They had made an imprint of Charly's pawprint and it was ready to be picked up. I didn't take it out of the blue satin bag until after work - I had to prepare myself. But what a precious gift. I'd rather have Charly, of course, but it was such a compassionate gesture and a keepsake I'll cherish. 

Today I mentioned on Facebook that I've strained my rotator cuff. Right away I had plenty of advice and sympathy, wrapped in expressions of concern and topped with offers of prayer. A beautiful Christmas present.

A friend reminded me the other day about the importance of a phone call. It hit home with me because I'm terrible about making phone calls. Anyway, he explained how a friend's wife had died, and even though he'd had good intentions of calling him once a week, the weeks had become months. But something made him call his friend the other day; it turned out to be the anniversary of the wife's death. He said...

"...As we said good-bye Big Ted said these words: 'Thanks for calling. I love you.' I was taken aback and said 'Me too.' Big Ted has never said he loved me. I truly felt that he needed that call and I am so thankful for a loving, merciful and patient God. Coincidence? Maybe so, but I would like to think that little voice I heard on Friday was the Holy Spirit. Yes...I have been putting off calling and should have, but God knew Big Ted needed that call and I am so thankful that I did not crush or put off that small little voice..."

The best gifts don't cost money. The best gift we can give is our time...our prayer...our concern...our love.  After all, look at the example we've been given...the one that begins on Christmas Day.

West Texas weekend - Kirby, windmills, and Merkel cousins

The first thought in my mind and the first words out of my mouth this morning..."I'm tired..." even before my feet hit the floor. Probably not the best way to start a Monday, but I wouldn't trade this past whirlwind West Texas weekend for anything. It was totally worth the exhaustion, and not just because I had all three of my kids together again. (There will be plenty of time to sleep in January...right?)

The weekend started Friday morning...my crew headed west to Lubbock for Tommy's girlfriend Kirby's graduation from Texas Tech University. We were driving through Abilene before I realized we would be passing within single digit miles of my cousin Sherlyn's house (this is one of my problems - sometimes I focus on the big picture in an abstract way...in this case, the graduation...and forget about the details...like the journey out there.)

"Hey, Sherlyn...what're you doing?"

"Having lunch with a friend. What are you doing?"

"Driving through Abilene..."

"What???"

She was at a restaurant right next to the highway, so we met her there and followed her back to her house for a quick visit with her and some of her kids. We promised to stop on our way back home for lunch and a longer visit on Sunday.

I love driving through West Texas...but that always always catches me by surprise. In my mind, it's flat and empty...in reality, it's full of surprise drop-offs, canyons and plateaus...vistas that go for miles and miles. Beautiful! How can I forget them?

My only prior experience with Lubbock was passing through on my way to Colorado, and I have to admit, it had never really impressed me before...it seemed a little, um, drab. But by the time Sunday rolled around and it was time to leave, I was hoping we could come back some day - we never even made it to the Buddy Holly museum or the Llano winery, much less Palo Duro Canyon, only a couple of hours away. (Bucket list #44..."Return to Lubbock")

However, we still had a packed weekend...besides the graduation itself early Saturday morning, we got a taste of Kirby's college life outside of class (drinks at Crickets Grill and Draft House on Friday night and margaritas at Chimy's on Saturday afternoon). Also on Saturday, we celebrated with her family at a luncheon at her sorority house and a dinner at Lisa West's Double Nickel Steakhouse (melt-in-your-mouth steaks!), and even slipped in one side trip of our own...a visit to the Windmill Museum!

We were happy we could help Kirby celebrate her graduation - despite transferring from another college and switching majors, and being treasurer of her sorority, she still graduated in only 3 1/2 years with a degree in finance! That is something to celebrate!

Just seeing the university was special for me for another reason, though. After World War II, my dad attended Texas Tech for one or two semesters (it might have been more - I never can remember) before leaving to follow his dream of becoming a Texas Highway Patrolman.

We made it to Sherlyn's by lunchtime on Sunday. I'm ashamed to admit it, but even though they live less than four hours away, until this weekend it had been almost eighteen years since we'd been to their house. (Thank goodness she had made trips to Houston and Austin to see us!) We vowed to be back soon.

I was eager to get home, though. I worried about Max being left there without Charly. (Frankie is company, but he's not Charly.) I needn't have worried; Max was fine. Frankie actually seemed the most relieved that we were home...he hovered near the door and snuck inside when it opened, taking advantage of us being loaded down with luggage. He made a quick inspection of the livingroom, then, satisfied it was safe, I guess, headed out the French doors when Tom went out to get some firewood. Good guard guinea.

Scenes from Kirby's graduation...

Windmills...a Dandy like ours...old next to new...

 
Tom, me, Sherlyn, Scott...cousins by birth, friends by choice...distance has never been able to keep us apart...

A Two-Candle Week

There are some weeks when lighting one candle just isn't enough. This has been one of them. So many of my friends and family - and my friends' families - are in need of prayer right now...from sickness, emergency hospitalizations or kids in trouble...they need our prayers for healing.

And then there are so many who are feeling the loss of loved ones during these holidays...they need our prayers for strength and peace.

It is also the week of finals for my kids and others...a week of stress and headaches and frustration, most likely...they need our prayers for determination, focus and confidence.

Today was a Holy Day of Obligation in the Catholic Church - the Feast of the Immaculate Conception. Despite deadlines and to-do lists, I was grateful for a chance to slip into the church tonight, to remember all of those needing extra prayer. And before I left, I lit another vigil candle. It just feels like that kind of week.

Please join me in offering up these prayers...

Post-Thanksgiving...Pre-Christmas

The turkey soup landed in the garbage can tonight. I was sad to see it go...it was the first Leftover-Turkey Soup I've ever made, and it was good! But Tom and I can only eat so much...and then only so much of the same thing for just so many days in a row.

That's one of the problems with an Empty Nest - too much food goes in the garbage. Right now we still have leftover pork chops AND chili, and way more oranges, apples, grapes and lunchmeat than Tom and I can eat by ourselves. More Thanksgiving turkey and ham would have gone in the garbage, but it's the only thing Charly would eat. Now it's all gone and he's working on the lunchmeat and white bread.

It seems just about the time I adjust my cooking and shopping to the number of mouths expecting to be fed, the number of kids in the house changes again...either coming home or heading back to school. It takes awhile to adjust my buying and cooking appropriately.

Even though we had the pork chops, I had to make chili Friday night. That's what you make on snow days...even if the snow only falls for 5 minutes and doesn't stick to anything.

We also made it because we had guests that left Houston, where a rare snowfall actually accumulated a few inches, to visit us for the weekend...my niece Christin and her friend Ashley. We couldn't just serve them leftover pork chops, for goodness sakes...not if they left snow to see us!

Christin came bearing movies I hadn't yet seen - we had a Double Feature Movie Night - "August Rush" (what a sweet story - a combination fantasy, musical and love story, rolled into one) AND "Australia" which was good, but long...I admit I took a short nap in the middle of it. I should have known better than to try to watch two movies in a row after a long, emotional week. I'll give it another try later, with a big bowl of popcorn handy!

Saturday was absolutely gorgeous - brilliant sunshine and perfect temperatures. We took the girls and the critters for a walk to the corner. While we searched for fossils, Charly headed off toward some nearby property where there's a dead dog (Daniel had told us about it - he said someone had shot it, which you can imagine made me a little nervous.) I called and called, but the stubborn old dog wouldn't come back, so we had to follow him. When Frankie realized there was a dead dog there, he started squawking and squawking. It took a while for him to calm down, poor bird.

I finally got Charly away from the dead dog; he headed toward the creek and we just let him lead the way. He didn't have a problem going downhill to the creekbed, but going back up on the other side was a different story: I had to carry him up the steep bank, about ten feet. I had to carry him again a little while later when he was determined to continue our walk along the creek across our "dam" neighbor's property - he doesn't understand why we can't walk there anymore, after so many years. I pleaded, begged and tugged on his collar, but finally gave up and just lifted him up - he wagged his tail as I huffed and puffed up to the road.

Next, Christin, Ashley and I jumped in the car and headed downtown to grab Kendall and go shopping. Ah, the mall at Christmas...crazy! But I got my Panda Express Orange Chicken fix and found some good deals on the clearance racks at Macy's.

After dropping Kendall off at her dorm, I took a detour through downtown Austin to show Christin and Ashley the Capitol Building and Congress Avenue all lit up for Christmas. Then I drove down 6th Street so she could say she'd been there...technically speaking...and then zoomed home in time to watch the University of Texas vs. Nebraska game...a real nail-biter but UT pulled it off at the end to win the Big 12 Championship. Whew!

It doesn't seem possible that December is already 1/4 of the way over, does it? This week's agenda: Christmas shopping...Christmas cards...Christmas parties...

And hanging over it all...Charly.

Separations and Connections

Twenty-four years ago today I became a new person...a mother. Becoming a mother revealed qualities within me that I never dreamed existed. "Self-centered" and "self-indulgent" were stripped away the moment I set eyes on the little life we named Tommy...the miracle combination of me and Tom that God created and presented back to us. From that moment on, I felt the weight of responsibility for someone other than myself. I think it even surprised Tom that motherhood would have such an effect on me.

It's kind of ironic, isn't it? From the moment your baby is born, you both start preparing for the day of separation. Of course, I guess birth is the first step on that journey.

I remember looking at Tommy...this tiny newborn...and just sobbing my eyes out, worrying about a day that he might go off to war. Soon asthma became a greater, more immediate source of fear...I spent many sleepless days and nights watching him struggle to breathe. Then he became a teenager, opening the door to all of the fears I could imagine...drugs, alcohol, car wrecks...

I learned to pray for his protection and my strength...I learned to hand my worries over to God...I learned to let go. And along the way, Tommy became an adult, separate and independent. 

It amazes me when I see him now, so grown up. Not that I'm surprised - when he was a little boy, I caught glimpses of the man he would become. And now, I catch glimpses of the little boy still inside of him, and I'm grateful for that even when the little boy annoys me, but I'm mostly proud of him...so sensible, hard-working, responsible, compassionate, creative, funny...I could go on and on, because I'm still his mother.

We were all together this past weekend - the whole family including Kirby. I remember having this fleeting thought a few weeks ago..."we should celebrate Tommy's birthday while we're in San Antonio"...but then it disappeared, squeezed out by preparations for Thanksgiving, company and our nephew's wedding. I didn't even get a picture of all of us together!

When he turned one, we threw him a party with cake, ice cream, presents...the works. Today he turned 24 and I texted him... "Happy Birthday!"...then I called him to make sure he was celebrating somehow (yes, going out for sushi with some friends, and he got to see Kirby yesterday.) There was no gift to wrap - we just let him skip paying us for his phone this month so he could use the money for a cruise he's taking. I just dropped his card in the mail yesterday - it won't even reach him until tomorrow. 

"I'm such a bad mother."

"No, you're not,"  and that warms my heart because I know he's not just telling me that to make me feel good. I can tell he knows that, even if I don't get a card in the mail to him on time every once in a while, I'm there for him in the things that matter. He knows that if he needs me, I'll drop what I'm doing to take care of whatever he needs. He knows that this separation thing only goes so far, and I'll never really be very far away.

24 years ago, I became a member of the Motherhood Club...Mama, Mam-ma, Tommy and me (four generations)

 

Going all out for a first birthday...cake and presents....

 

A dance is a celebration, isn't it? Except I think this was more for me than him...

To read my birthday tribute to Tommy from last year, click here

December 1st

I'm playing hooky from work today (with permission)...maybe not the wisest decision in many ways, considering the holidays last week (I don't get paid when I'm not there), the expenses of this past weekend, bills that will need to be paid and Christmas just around the corner.

But last year I had boxes piled around the house longer than the house was fully decorated; this year I didn't want it to feel like just another chore on my to-do list.

So I'm listening to Christmas carols, decorating the house and tree with snowmen, Santas, and memories of years past, watching the cold rain fall outside...and hanging out with Charly.

He appeared at the back door about an hour ago and I let him in. (Don't tell Max or Frankie!) It was actually the other reason I wanted to stay home today...to keep an eye on him. He's a walking skeleton, not interested in any food except leftovers from Thanksgiving, which he subsequently throws up. Right now he's stretched out on the rug behind me.

I haven't made much progress on the decorations, actually. He's an outside dog and has had a tough time trying to decide if he wants to be in or out. I've spent a lot of time opening and closing doors, circling the house and just sitting on the floor beside him, rubbing his ears, and, I'll admit it, crying and telling him what a great dog he is and how much I'm going to miss him.

I know his days are numbered. I've been saying that for awhile, I know, but he's going downhill drastically. Tom and I have talked about whether we should take matters into our own hands, so to speak. But how do you know? If he seemed in pain, or totally uninterested in anything, it would be clear. But he's not. He enjoys being near us, getting his ears rubbed. He still wags his tail a lot, and this morning he was scrambling to stand up and step out of his bed before I could get "Let's go for a walk" out of my mouth. He made it down to the bend and back just fine - slow, but just fine.

I guess we'll just take it a day at a time, and for this day, I'm enjoying having him near me as I decorate the house for this blessed, and still joyful, season.

Introducing (the other) Mr. and Mrs. Tom Shallue

I had a flash of deja vu this weekend when the priest announced to the wedding guests, "May I introduce Mr. and Mrs. Tom Shallue"...

It helped that I was sitting in the pews, one of the wedding guests, instead of standing near the altar dressed in white. But still...it was a strange sensation.

It was a beautiful wedding, held inside the historic San Fernando Cathedral in downtown San Antonio. There's nothing like a wedding to remind you of those days when you first met and all the reasons why you decided to spend the rest of your life together (even if you have to sneak out to change a diaper like I did for my precious but stinky great-nephew...reminding me that I'm closer to my "Grandma" days than my "bride" days!)

The reception was in the Hyatt Regency hotel, fifteen minutes away by foot via the River Walk, all lit up for Christmas. Carolers serenaded us from passing boats, and even though it was crowded, it was still magical.

I'm grateful that all of my kids (including Kirby, Tommy's girlfriend) could go with us. It was fun getting out on the dancefloor with them, seeing them get to know cousins they haven't seen in almost a decade, watching them horse around with each other (and hearing Tom tell them to knock it off.)

One thing hasn't changed though...it seems no matter how old your kids get, they still manage to keep you up all night. Between talking, people coming in and out, phones ringing, worrying...I don't think I slept more than 4 hours and that was in thirty minute increments! (I have bags under my eyes so big I could pack enough for a week in Hawaii in them! Sleep is my priority this week!)

But I'm glad the latest Mr. and Mrs. Tom Shallue decided to get married in San Antonio so we could be a part of the celebration. It's hard to believe it's been 27 years since our priest turned to our wedding guests and said, "May I introduce Mr. and Mrs. Tom Shallue". That's been a pretty lucky label for us. For this new pair, I pray the years ahead of them are just as blessed. From what I've seen so far, I think they'll be just fine.

San Fernando Cathedral...the 'new' Mr. and Mrs. Tom Shallue...the 'old' Mr. and Mrs. Tom Shallue showing everyone how to 'Schottische'...glimpses of the River Walk

I'm Thankful For...

...a houseful of family, including all three of my kids...blue skies and mild temperatures perfect for opening windows, walking through the woods and up to the top of the hill, and playing ping-pong...my mother's cornbread dressing recipe and Thanksgiving Day dinner instructions...double ovens and Chinette plates...in-laws who chip in and help out...

I'm grateful for friends and family...for the internet and telephones that allow Happy Thanksgiving wishes to travel back and forth, erasing the miles in-between us, especially those between my parents and me.

I'm thankful the University of Texas pulled off a win against the Aggies last night. Whew! What a nail-biter! (Oh, yeah...I'm grateful for friends who let us crash their party to watch the game. We don't have cable television!)

I'm thankful for this day, the one I'm sitting in right now...an empty square on the calendar in between two busy ones...a day for catching up on laundry, setting up the Christmas tree, watching funny you-tube videos or movies, and just spending time with Tom and the kids ...

I'm grateful for this chance to catch my breath before the next race begins...the coming season should be filled with self-reflection, celebration, and joy rather than stress and headaches, but it's a tough balancing act for me.

Maybe it will help to think of every day as Thanksgiving Day, listing my blessings alongside my 'things-to-do'...maybe it will help me remember why I'm doing what I do each day...

Happy Thanksgiving...Many Blessings to Everyone!

 

A Not-Quite-Treasure Hunt and My Favorite Color, Gruene...

I have a million things to do before company arrives this afternoon, but I have done a wonderful job ignoring them so far...I slept in, and then it was such a gorgeous morning that Tom and I had to take the critters for a walk (these days, with Charly, there's no way to rush that.) And now, here I am blogging...

Do I qualify for Procrastinator of the Year yet?

Tom took Max and Charly to the vet yesterday for their shots and check-ups...Max passed with flying colors, and except for being old, skinny and lumpy, Charly did, too.

There was one thing they didn't check on Max, though, because he goes berserk if you go near his rear-end. Yep...the stool sample. So it fell to us to take some in a ziplock for them to test. Easier said than done; in the six years we've had him, I've never seen Max go poop. I knew he must - I see the food go in, so I knew it had to go out! But he is the most private dog I've ever known...Charly just finds a grassless spot next to the road, but Max always slips quietly out to the woods and then reappears a few minutes later, grinning.  

So this morning, we kept our eyes on him. He tried his best to slip away unseen, but I noticed, and when he reappeared from the woods, Tom went searching in that area for the "treasure". It took a few minutes...both of us scanning the ground, sniffing the air (oh, the things you do for your "kids"!) but he found it! So he's off in the Suzuki right now to deliver the goods and then take Pop four-wheeling on some back roads.

Last night we headed to Gruene (pronounced "Green"), one of my favorite little towns, to meet Tom's nephew, Tom, and his fiance, Lynn, before the craziness of the wedding on Saturday. We ate at the Grist Mill. We've eaten there dozens of times, but this was the first time I've ever sat in the original building. It was very cozy and quaint, surrounded by tall walls of century-old brick. The town was spruced up for the holidays...music drifted out of the Gruene Hall...it was a crisp, cool, star-filled night...I wished we didn't have to leave!

Okay, company arrives in two hours...I've procrastinated long enough. It's time to get busy and start scratching things off of my list...

A Happy Thanksgiving to everyone!

Glimpses of Gruene...

Just Me and Stoney, Dusting and Thinking

I think Kendall's graduation cap and braided ropes hadn't been touched since she placed them on that chest right after the ceremony last June. I untangled the cords, hung them on a hook, and propped her cap up on her dresser. Stoney LaRue's voice floated in from the livingroom speakers..."May God bless you and keep you always, may your wishes all come true. May you always do for others and let others do for you. May you build a ladder to the stars and climb on every rung. May you stay forever young, forever young, forever young..."

I dusted the wooden souvenir box from our trip to Colorado...the colorful bottles collected at so many garage sales...Gumby and Pokey...whole sanddollars...dried flowers...jewelry boxes...stuffed animals...candles...photos...

"...may you stay forever young, forever young, forever young..."

I was grateful for the rain today - not just because we needed it, but because it kept me focused inside, where I needed to be, tackling my to-do lists. I didn't accomplish as much as I wanted to (does anyone ever?) but I made a pretty big dent...getting Kendall's room ready for Tom's parents, who arrive tomorrow for Thanksgiving at our house and a grandson's wedding in San Antonio. 

It'll only be the second time since I met Tom that he has spent Thanksgiving with his parents. It'll be the first that I haven't been with mine. That's tough. I know I'll be "homesick" that day, but happy for Tom that he gets to be with his family. Mine live so close that I often take it for granted how often I get to see them.

Anyway...I spent the morning in Kendall's room surrounded by the wide pastel stripes I helped her paint...colors of other years gone by. That was when a day, a week, a year was forever to her...she couldn't imagine how quickly these years would fly. But I knew, even as I helped tape straight lines to keep the blues, greens and pinks separate, that this day was just around the corner...this day when that room wasn't where she lived - it was just a place to store stuff she no longer needed every day but wasn't ready to get rid of or box up. Not yet.

But I know even that day is coming...I know from experience with Tommy and Daniel, that gradually the room will seem larger...posters, dressers, clothes, and even furniture will disappear.

 "...may you stay forever young, forever young, forever young..."

It was a nice way to spend a morning...a reflective one...picking up a jewelry box, a candle, a framed picture, a souvenir...gently wiping the dust off of it as I remember the age, the occasion, the moods surrounding each one. I tried to keep most of it the way she had it, with a few little changes on the bedside table, just to leave space for Tom's parents' things. I want her to feel it's still her room (even though we're not letting her sleep in there Thanksgiving weekend!)...I don't want to rush her out of the house or take it upon myself to decide what she needs to keep and what she needs to get rid of. As long as she wants it, it will be her room, filled with her stuff. I'll leave the stripes and posters on the wall, the parade of mini-rubber duckies on the shelf in her shower. I'll leave it this way until the walls are bare and the closet is empty...until she has moved on. But even then...even after the stripes are gone and her things don't fill the room...in my mind it will always be Kendall's room.

"...May you stay forever young.

May you grow up to be righteous
May you grow up to be true
May you always know the truth
And see the lights surrounding you
May you always be courageous
Stand upright and be strong
May you stay forever young
Forever young, forever young
May you stay forever young.

May your hands always be busy
May your feet always be swift
May you have a strong foundation
When the winds of changes shift
May your heart always be joyful
And may your song always be sung
May you stay forever young
Forever young, forever young
May you stay forever young..."

Listen to Stoney himself singing it here.

 

 

Updates from a Week with Wings

It's almost too much for me to fathom that Thanksgiving is only a week away. Why does time speed up so much as you get older? Is it because you start to realize how precious each minute is and you know you've wasted zillions of them already that you can't get back? Do we then try to cram so much into each minute, afraid to waste a single more, that they burst, propelling us into the future even faster?

Oh, man...too much thinking this early in the morning! And what's the sense in even wondering about it? Isn't that just another waste of a minute?

Here are a few updates of our week with wings...

...Good new first...for two meals in a row, Charly has cleaned his plate! We went back to the same old routine and he's eating again, without any begging, pleading or bribery from us. That's a blessing for sure.

...Tom has been on jury duty this week. All I know is it's a child abuse case - he can't discuss it outside of the courtroom - but it's got to be a pretty depressing way to spend the day. Nevertheless, he's happy to be doing his part as a citizen.

(On the first day he was so frustrated - they were told to report at 9am. He got there at 8:15, not knowing how much of a problem traffic or parking would be, but wanting to be sure he was on time. At 11:15 he called me - they were still waiting on other potential jurors to show up! They couldn't even start interviewing until they all arrived. One (a school teacher, for goodness sake!) rolled in around 11:45. But there was still one missing; by phone, they promised to be there by 1pm, so the bailiff told the rest of them to break for lunch...but be back by ONE! Period! Everyone did...except the schoolteacher who had just gotten there before the break. She strolled back in at 1:15. Such a lack of consideration for others...such a lack of civic responsibility and respect...that just drives me crazy.)

...besides getting my library cleaned up and relatively organized (I call it a library, but it's really just a catch-all/guest room with books filling the window sills and one metal bookshelf), I finally closed up Chapter 6 to my satisfaction. This morning I traveled a pretty good distance into Chapter 7. Little by little, it's coming along.

...yesterday morning, Charly had another adventure. He and Max headed into the woods on the trail of something, so I decided to follow them. The owners of this property  used to come out pretty frequently...they fixed it up with picnic tables, grill...even an outhouse and cistern! (We call it "The Campground".) They don't mind us walking on it - it was vandalized once, so they appreciate us keeping an eye on it for them.

Anyway, I noticed Charly meandering off a bit into the woods, but Max and Frankie were busy and I was drawn to the pond...to the reflections of the trees on the mirror surface. I had my camera and took some pictures, just kind of hanging out while the 'kids' played, getting lost in memories of the days years ago when I'd hang around on the playgrounds while Tommy, Daniel and Kendall played.

Then it hit me that Charly hadn't come back! I started calling and calling, finally diving into the woods with Max and Frankie in the direction he went, a little worried that he'd worked himself down a hill into a ravine or the edge of the pond and not be able to get out. On a walk this past Saturday I had to lift him up to the next level of rock on the creekbed. His short little legs just don't have much 'oomph' left in them. And then there are the coyotes...

We emerged onto the road and there he was, heading toward us from the bend, safe and sound. Kids!

A few pictures from our detour yesterday morning...reflections (I've always loved that tree on the other side - such a unique shape)...you can barely see Max in the prairie grass...on Charly's trail through the woods...

 
 

A Short Walk in the Shadows

On clear days, the morning sunshine spills and splashes into the hollow, but there are places it doesn't reach...spots where the road hugs tight to a steep side of a hill and down along the creek and other places in the woods where the sunlight can't pass through the leaves on the oak trees.

There are days when I feel like I'm standing in one of those spots...standing in a shadow, unable to feel the warmth of the sun. Today is one of those days.

I'm not worried. It hasn't happened in a while, but it happens and I know it will pass. I know even if can't feel the light in my heart, it's close and it will return. I read somewhere that even Mother Teresa experienced days like this.

Shadows are cast by objects blocking the light, and I'm trying to figure out what it is that's blocking the light and casting this shadow around me. I have no reason to be sad or depressed. Not directly. My family is relatively healthy; we are blessed with jobs, food, shelter, clothes; we get to live in this beautiful place that I love. I have family and friends who love me. It makes me ashamed to feel this way! Lord, how would I deal with a real problem?

Perhaps it's because the holidays are coming up...I have big plans of being organized and on time this year with my decorating, shopping and cards...I really want to go see the Trail of Lights in Zilker Park (or whatever they're calling it this year) and experience the Armadillo Christmas Bazaar (I've never been!)...but without forfeiting time for reflection and activities focusing on Christ's birth...the "reason for the season."

How am I going to do that?  We're preparing for Thanksgiving right now...only the second time in my home and the first time with Tom's family (part of his family, anyway...there will only be about 15 of us, altogether, not 50 or 60!) There's so much to do and so little time left in the day to do it...in a whole weekend and and one evening, we've barely made a dent in it and my to-do lists are multiplying like rabbits. I can't even think about Christmas yet. But I realize to get it done, something (most likely my writing and work-outs...my sanity-savers) will have to go by the wayside for a while.

But it will be a fabulous weekend, even if we don't get everything done...first Thanksgiving, then a wedding in San Antonio. But now it looks like there might also be one of my "classmates get-togethers" being planned in Austin that weekend on the same day as the wedding. I'll have to miss it. Perhaps that's part of the shadow...

Or maybe it's because Charly is skin and bones but we can't get him to eat. Well, we can't get him to eat his food, anyway. If Max drops some of his on the deck, Charly's there in a heartbeat to snatch it up. We thought maybe his food was too hard and crunchy (ignoring the fact that he has no problem eating his milkbone treats!) so I changed the ratio of canned food and kibble; 1/3 canned became 1/3 kibble. Ah, that did it...for one feeding or two. Then he turned his nose up at it again. Tom broke down and just fed him Max's food (the special food that costs and arm and a leg!) because, hey, he's old and skinny! Give him what he likes! It worked...until this morning. He ate about a third of his then went scavenging around Max's bowl. ("Charly! It's the same stuff!!")

Maybe I just need a kid fix. It's been several weeks since I've seen any of them, hasn't it? And then it wasn't for very long. Not long enough. Thank the Lord for cell phones and email...I've talked to all of them in snatches within the last few days...but it's just not the same as seeing their faces, hearing their voices, feeling their hugs. 

Yes, maybe that's it. At the thought of my kids, my heart is swelling up and tears are peeking out of my eyes. They will all be here for Thanksgiving, hallelujah! In just a couple of weeks, it will be loud and crazy and I will love it...even as I long to slip off somewhere quiet.

Perhaps it's all of these things. Perhaps it's something I just haven't recognized yet. Perhaps it's hormones and I just need a good cry.

Whatever it is, I know it will pass. I know soon I'll step back into the sunlight...I know it's there, just around the corner...

In times of dryness and desolation, we must be patient, and wait with resignation the return of consolation, putting our trust in the goodness of God. We must animate ourselves by the thought that God is always with us, that he only allows this trial for our greater good, and that we have not necessarily lost his grace because we have lost the taste and feelings of it. - St. Ignatius of Loyola

How'd they know?

I started dumping my thoughts and memories on paper when I was 8 years old and continued for years, on through high school, mostly in those little 5 year diaries with the flimsy locks. I ignored the boundary lines that were supposed to separate yearly entries...I sometimes used up several pages for one day. Sadly, when I moved out of my parents' home, I threw them away. Why? Why? Why?

I would love to go back and read the thoughts and perspectives of my younger self. But I was too honest - I wrote totally for myself with no intentions of anyone else ever reading what I scribbled. When I started packing up my belongings, preparing to move into my first apartment, I feared my boyfriend at the time would see them and read them. It seems crazy to me now that I worried about it...or that, if I was that worried, I couldn't come up with a creative solution. Geez!

I stopped writing for years. But when I met Tom, I felt compelled to write my feelings down again, and have continued to do so for the past twenty-eight years...first in pretty hard-backed journals, later in the kids left-over spiral notebooks. I started journals for each of the kids, too. Yes...for awhile I was keeping up with four journals. (Let me tell you...it's great therapy for a parent... "You were such a little fart today! What got into you?"..."One day you'll understand why we were upset when you didn't call and let us know where you were. We were so worried!"..."Today you gave me the sweetest hug and kiss...")

Anyway, as the kids got older, it got harder and harder to keep up with the journals. Writing had become a stress-reliever for me, and when I don't write...well, I get stressed. I can feel something building up inside of me. I get grumpy (Tom might call it something else...)

And then there were the letters. I used to write dozens of letters every week - cousins, grandmothers, friends. I was so good about making copies of pictures for everyone. What happened?

Blogging has been a way to take care of all of these things...sharing our current events and my feelings about them, all at the same time! But it was scary at first - what would people think? Would anyone read it?

I write for myself, but at the same time, I feel, when I'm blogging, that I'm talking to a friend, sharing what's on my mind. When I don't get any reactions at all, I start to wonder if what I'm writing is any good...does anyone understand it? Does anyone connect with what I'm saying? Is anyone even reading it?

And then someone will send me a message...like this one yesterday:"...I just wanted to tell you that you write beautifully and really need to think about doing it for a living..." or today: "Barb, I really enjoy your writing..." and "Your blog is indeed very inspiring Barb...keep up the great work." Just when my determination drops, just when I need it the most, it never fails that someone tells me they are reading my words...they enjoy my words.

Who knows if I'll ever make any significant money with my writing? I would love to, of course, but the main reason I write is to get my thoughts down on paper...to play with words...and perhaps inspire, entertain, or just connect with other people. When I get comments like these, it makes me feel like I'm not totally wasting my time...I'm not just talking to a wall (or a computer screen)...that someone out there was actually inspired, entertained, or somehow felt a connection to me, enough to let me know it. That's enough to get through a few more days, weeks, pages...

Thank you for taking the time to let me know.

"If storytelling has a positive function it's to put us in touch with other people's lives, to help us connect and draw strength or knowledge from people we'll never meet, to help us see beyond our own experience." - John Sayles Thinking in Pictures

My List

I just stumbled through the door, home after an afternoon of shopping with Kendall...after breakfast and lunch with precious friends...after a night of just 5 hours of sleep because I wanted to enjoy every minute I had with these 'girls' of my youth who gathered at my house for the weekend to celebrate Ann's birthday.

My eyes were getting very, very heavy and I was chewing gum, singing with the radio, and praying fervently that I'd make it home without falling asleep at the wheel. Flipping through the stations, I came across "My List" by Toby Keith. (It might be an old song, but it's new to me.) The lyrics really hit me - if you switch the genders, the message seems so appropriate for me, the "To-Do List Maker."

If it's new to you, too, I recommend it (click here for the video.) Now I'm going to ignore everything that I should do around here and, upon my friends' advice, go soak in the neglected jacuzzi tub for awhile before bed. I'll think about the wonderful weekend and give thanks for these lifelong friendships...

Under an old brass paperweight is my list of things to do today
Go to the bank and the hardware store, put a new lock on the cellar door
I cross 'em off as I get 'em done but when the sun is set
There's still more than a few things left I haven't got to yet

Go for a walk, say a little prayer
Take a deep breath of mountain air
Put on my glove and play some catch
It's time that I make time for that
Wade the shore and cast a line
Look up a long lost friend of mine
Sit on the porch and give my girl a kiss
Start livin', that's the next thing on my list

Wouldn't change the course of fate but cuttin' the grass just had to wait
'Cause I've got more important things like pushin' my kid on the backyard swing
I won't break my back for a million bucks I can't take to my grave
So why put off for tomorrow what I could get done today

Like go for a walk, say a little prayer
Take a deep breath of mountain air
Put on my glove and play some catch
It's time that I make time for that
Wade the shore and cast a line
Look up a long lost friend of mine
Sit on the porch and give my girl a kiss
Start livin', that's the next thing on my list

Raise a little hell, laugh 'til it hurts
Put an extra five in the plate at church
Call up my folks just to chat
It's time that I make time for that
Stay up late, then oversleep
Show her what she means to me
Catch up on all the things I've always missed
Just start livin', that's the next thing on my list

Under an old brass paperweight
Is my list of things to do today

Procrastinator's Creed

I just hung up from talking to Tommy, my oldest that lives and works near Dallas. I rarely get to see him or talk to him. He's never been much of a phone-talker, but now, as a transportation broker, he has to spend hours on the phone at work. So I hesitate to call him - I know the last thing he wants to do when he gets home is talk on the phone...to his mother...but I had a question for him about an upcoming family wedding. He ended up talking quite a bit, telling me about work...his weekend...his upcoming plans.

I had other things I planned to do before heading to bed, but cleared them from my mind, reminding myself that a phone conversation with Tommy doesn't come around very often.

This little verse I first heard when he was a baby keeps running through my head. I think it still applies...

Cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow, for...<insert one of the following or make up your own>

 

...<babies grow up>
 ...<grown sons don't talk on the phone very often>
 ...<college kids don't like to come home>
 ...<parents grow older>
 ...<friends/family live out of town and we hardly get to see them>
 ...<we've gotten too busy and haven't seen our local friends in a long time>

 

...we've learned to our sorrow. So settle down cobwebs, dust go to sleep. I'm...

 

...<rocking my baby>
...<talking to my grown son>
...<spending time with my college kids>
...<visiting my parents>
...<getting together with out-of-town friends/family>
...<getting together with local friends>

 

and babies...grown sons...college kids...parents...friends...family don't keep.

 

 

 

Feeling Wild...

It is an absolutely gorgeous day in Texas, the end of an absolutely gorgeous weekend. Perfect temperatures, clear blue skies, flowers blooming, dragonflies buzzing....

I've spent a weekend surrounded by friends, experiencing new places, food and drink...cheering, laughing, hugging. And it hasn't stopped yet...

We snagged Daniel from his apartment late last night - he came home to do his laundry and just hang out at the house with us. I planned to spend this day trying to get caught up on my to-do list and enjoy the sunshine.

But something is calling me and I have to answer - the call of the wild..."Where the Wild Things Are" is playing nearby - one of my all-time favorite children's books. Who better to see it with than one of my own "Max"s (Daniel). We've thoroughly justified the shirking of responsibility in our own minds. I'm not sure if Tom will buy our excuses, but that usually doesn't stop us.

Off to the wild rumpus...

A Week of My Favorite Things...

...birthdays, seeing my kids (2 out of 3, anyway), beautiful sunsets, yellow and purple flowers, sunshine, ping-pong, Dirty Dancing and sore muscles...

Yes, sore muscles. I've been wanting to rev up my work-out, but couldn't afford a personal trainer. Thanks to Self.com, I started a new, more intense, work-out this week, and for the first time in two years, I'm SORE! I'm even thinking about climbing into our jacuzzi tub tonight - we've had it four years but I've never even been in it! I've never had the time. But I think I'm going to make the time tonight!

Birthdays...Of course, Daniel turned 21 on Tuesday. But October 13 is a very popular day for birthdays. I also sent out wishes to my beautiful Montana sister-in-law Kim and two young cousins, Ashley and Kayce, and my blogging friend Pete, a minister in South Africa (I recommend his blog, Rock in the Grass  - he writes very interesting, thought-provoking posts.) 

Today is my precious niece/goddaughter Nicole's 5th birthday. I'm a terrible aunt/godmother, though - her card isn't getting in the mail until tomorrow and I didn't even call. Obviously, I need to slow down. (Happy Birthday, Nicole!)

Tomorrow would have been my oldest brother Buster's 62nd birthday. I have started to write so much about that, but my words get jumbled up and I just delete them...It's just hard for me to imagine I'm now almost the same age my mother was when he died.

Wednesday morning I stepped out of my house into a summer morning in Houston...well, not really, but the humidity was thick and steamy and the mosquitoes attacked so fiercely that if I had closed my eyes, I could have imagined I was back in LaPorte.

This morning had all the appearances of a crisp Central Texas fall...the sky was crystal blue, no clouds...but it was still hot, humid, and the mosquitoes were worse than yesterday! They didn't ruin my walk, though - I let the sunshine wash over my skin while I admired the flowers blooming all along the road. There are mostly yellow patches, but I'm happy to report my purple flowers are popping up at the bend in the road...lots and lots of little colonies. I'm not surprised they held on through the drought.

Frankie even joined us again this morning. True, my walks are much more peaceful without him and his chattering, but I enjoy his company. I wonder why he's been reluctant to join us and what changed? Funny little bird.

This morning was my Saturday - it's going to be a busy weekend, so I took advantage of Tom being home and slept in until 8am! It felt so good!

The down side of sleeping that late was I didn't have time for my new work-out before leaving the house, so I had to fit it in tonight, which put me in a quandary - I'm such a creature of routine, and in the mornings I just watch the Today Show - no thinking required. Tonight I had to decide what to watch while I exercised. My choice? Dirty Dancing. I had been intending to watch it ever since the death of Patrick Swayze but, of course, never had time. I tell you what...it's a pretty good movie to watch when you're working out. I had that elliptical moving during the scene of Baby and Johnny after their first dance...sigh...

But...before that, Tom challenged me to a "game" of ping-pong. I use the word game lightly, because we don't keep score and our main incentive is to keep the ball in play so that we don't have to go chase it down and pick it up. We're getting old and have to take care of our backs! But it's so much fun playing out on the porch...Stoney LaRue singing to us through the speakers...playing off the house and cedar posts or whatever...dodging dogs and guineas that want attention until you step on them.

Yes, it's been a good week that will continue into a good weekend. I get to meet up with some wonderful friends...another mini-high school reunion on Friday and Saturday nights with Brad and Byron, plus some, and a gathering at our house Saturday to watch the University of Texas kick some Oklahoma University butt...good thing I rested up this morning!

Now, exuse me...I'm off to get acquainted with my jacuzzi tub and ease these aching old muscles...

More favorites...a beautiful sunset...me and my baby boy...

Lucky 21 (I Hope)

I've been traveling back in time via memories today, helped along by dusty baby books and photo albums. It's Daniel's 21st birthday.

I'll see him in person tomorrow night. Tom and I will head downtown and take him out to eat. I'll also surprise him with the not-so-healthy "fruit" of last night's labor - hours of my labor - one of his favorite treats...Cyclops Cookies. (He doesn't read my blog very often, so I'm not worried about spoiling the surprise. And he'll enjoy them just as much even if they aren't a surprise!)

Tonight I'm flipping through pages, seeing him change before my eyes in minutes - changes a mother doesn't really notice until it's time to shop for new shoes and you realize their body has grown with their feet, and that somehow, suddenly, they're looking down at you instead of up.

I wonder if I'll notice any changes tomorrow night?  It's been a couple of weeks since I've seen him.

Probably not. Changes at this age are mostly inside, not easily noticed by parents who continue to see their children with "parent" eyes. I'm guilty of this, I know. "Daniel, don't forget to go to church....Daniel, don't forget to exercise...Daniel, STUDY!"

But, that being said, now that I'm thinking about it, there have been changes in Daniel...in his voice, his choice of words, his attitude...I realize that somehow, suddenly, he has grown out of childhood and slipped into adulthood.

I'm aware of Melancholy peeking over my shoulder as I glance through the photographs of Daniel at birth...crawling...on his first birthday...

Don't get me wrong...I'm glad Daniel's growing up - after all, I'm his mother and I want what's best for him...if you never grow up, your chances of having a relatively happy, successful, rewarding life get pretty slim. But still...Daniel is funny. He's sweet. He's honest. He's goofy. He's thoughtful. He's creative. I pray he doesn't think these are childhood things to be put away. 

I think tomorrow night I'll remind him of Madeleine L'Engle's words..."The great thing about getting older is you don't lose all the other ages you've been."  

A year ago today..."My Lucky 13 Baby"

Twenty-one years ago today...preparing to meet Daniel and holding him for the very first time...

A blink of an eye and a year later (and tonight, just a few pages later...) he's off and running, ready to discover the world. He hasn't stopped yet and I hope he never does...

 Happy, happy 21st birthday, Daniel!! I can't wait to see what happens next!

 
 

Running in Circles

A father's birthday celebration. A sick child. I was in limbo.

The critters were fed, bills were paid, I was showered and dressed, ready to hit the road to Pasadena, but I just couldn't go out the door. Although the child is technically an adult, not living at home and there was really nothing I could do, for some reason I just couldn't move a step farther away from her. Just in case she needed me.

My parents supported my decision not to come for the celebration. They probably would have even chastised me if I showed up there: they've always been the same kind of parents...on stand-by for us, 24-7.

The good news is my baby's fever broke - her cough, sore throat and asthma are all much better. Tamiflu and Prednisone - wonder drugs!

I've been craving a day at home to make a dent in this  mess, and one had been handed to me. But I took a look around and immediately felt stressed - where do I start? There was no way I could get it all done - cleaning AND organizing - so in the end I chose organizing. Dirt I can overlook (up to a certain point), but having things out of place, piled up, waiting to be returned to their proper spot, or, worse yet, still waiting for a proper spot...oh, someone hand me a paper bag! I'm hyperventilating again!

It was still a matter of focusing in one area and I chose my desk. After several hours of work, I'm happy to report that most of the piles are gone, files are returned to the file cabinet and others are shredded. It feels pretty good. Someone walking in my house wouldn't notice a damn thing different, but I feel like a teeny bit of weight is lifted off my shoulders.

Besides swimming through paperwork today, Tom and I took the dogs for a walk (Frankie still won't come with us. What's going on?) We climbed to the top of the hill near the curve, where a gazillionaire had started preparing to build his underground house, then just stopped. We haven't been up there in months - since before the triple digit temperatures - but nothing has changed. Such a mystery! It was a gray day, but the temperatures are down in the 50's - perfect for a walk on a country road to the top of a hill with a wonderful view of the hollow.

Charly climbed the hill with us. I'm starting to think he's got a few more years left!

Besides checking on my baby's condition via cell phone (wonderful inventions - how did parents survive long-distance relationships before?) and celebrating my dad's birthday vicariously over the phone, I  worked on my book, moved the laundry around, and practiced folding fitted sheets (thanks to a how-to video my friend Kim posted on Facebook. I'm hoping one day I'll be able to fold them without having to watch the video!)

That still doesn't seem like much for a whole day at home, though, does it?

Oh, I also caught up on some of my emails and came across this cartoon from my high school yearbook teacher - it's perfect for forgetful, always-running-in-circles-and-never-getting-anywhere procrastinators like me (thanks, Bob!) Happy Saturday!

No degree, but plenty of lessons

As a welder's helper for H.B. Zachry back in 1978, I learned alligator cooked in a welding rod hot box tastes a lot like chicken and that it's important to know who you are and have a tight grip on your values when submerged in a world of loose rules and questionable ethics. I was introduced to and outraged by the reality of extreme racism and, when the women in the tag shack wouldn't let me use the restroom in their trailer rather than the stomach-turning port-a-potties because I was one of the "workers", I experienced the disdain of discrimination. (I also learned how to go 10 hours straight without using the restroom.) 

As a plant technician (chemical plant operator) for DuPont, USI, and Quantum Chemicals from 1978 through 1991, I realized I could learn anything if I put my mind to it. I discovered true friendship isn't restricted or limited by gender, age, race or religion. I learned public speaking from giving first aid classes. I learned the importance of going to the source of information rather than just taking someone's word on a procedure, especially when there was hydrogen, carbon monoxide or propylene involved.

When my body went into automatic at the sound of a fire alarm, I realized the value of preparation and practice, practice, practice. I witnessed male chauvinism, but learned to speak up for myself, maintain a good sense of humor, and to do my best even if no one acknowledged it. I learned it was possible to change others' attitudes. I memorized the words to almost every pop song recorded between 1950 and 1970, thanks to long nights in the lab listening to the oldies station, as well as snippets of the Cherokee language and Viet Nam culture and history, thanks to co-workers.

As a new mom working 12 hour shifts, I learned I could manage on little or no sleep. I learned that my most important job of all is being a mom, but that I might have to fight others to do the job well. I learned to trust God to watch over my babies because I couldn't always be there.

As a stay-at-home mom, I learned what loneliness means and the sanity-saving value of a call from a friend, a few hours away from home with the girls or volunteering at the school. I learned it's never too late to go back to school, but it's a lot harder once you're married and have kids.

As a substitute teacher, volunteer, and elementary school librarian, I learned that not all teachers are created equal, and that the inside politics of a school district can get pretty ugly. The children are often forgotten and common sense is sometimes only a term in a book.

But as a librarian, having to teach myself from scratch (because the district refused to pay the previous librarian to train me), I remembered that I could learn anything if I had the desire to do so and put my mind to it. Degree be damned! I learned the joy of passing on a love of reading and respect of books to children, of watching the wonder in their faces as I read to them, of seeing the tears in their eyes that matched my own when we came to the good parts.

As an almost full-time writer, I learned the importance of saving or printing out what I wrote when, after months of working on my children's book, the beginning of another book, and several essays and short stories, my computer crashed, taking my words and motivation with it.

There were a few years when I was a juggler - three or four part-time jobs, building the house, raising the kids, volunteering for everything. I learned there was such a thing as too much.

At Juggled Job 1, a part-time whatever-was-needed, didn't-even-have-my-own-cubicle-or-computer for seven years office worker, I learned humility and compromise, and felt again the acute regret of dropping out of college.

It surprised me that I found Juggled Job 2, newspaper reporting, mostly tedious and boring. Maybe that's because I covered the evening school board meetings after working all day, and then sat at the kitchen table, listening to the voices drone on and on and on from my tape recorder while I scribbled furiously well past midnight. I wanted to make sure I got the facts right, especially in this small town and during that conflictual time in its history. However, I also witnessed the power of written words, how they can shine a light on obscured facts and sometimes spark change. I felt the satisfaction of having my words make a difference.

At Juggled Job 3, substitute church secretary in our small church, I learned what multi-tasking really means. I learned more about the Catholic faith, more about humanity, more about invisible heroes, more about true compassion and service. I treasure memories of interesting discussions with Father Joe, the peace and sustaining silence of the sanctuary in the middle of the day, the heartbreaking stories of the St. Vincent de Paul calls - much needed wake-up calls for me, reminders of my many blessings and how quickly circumstances can change.

Juggled Job 4, substitute teaching, was the first I picked up and the last I let go.

Now here I am at 50, a year into yet another new job - just one job for the first time in a long time -  learning about marketing and product naming, search engine optimization, videography, and even autism...things I never dreamed I'd be learning.

All of these jobs were blessings...doors that opened to me when I needed them... interesting jobs, for the most part, that have allowed me to continue learning, whether skills or life lessons.

However, one door remains closed - the one I shut on myself years ago when I decided to "postpone" getting my degree. Even though it's getting harder and harder the closer I get to retirement age for others to understand (and some days for me to believe), I'm still determined to re-open that door and step through it. Someday. Until then, I'll just keep learning any way I can.

On your mark, get set, GO!

It's a soft morning...muted sunshine, a sky swirling in faded blues, pinks and grays, a whispering breeze that's not too warm, not too cold. My walk was quiet - just light birdsong, puppies panting and our mingled footsteps padding along the wet sand of our road. (Frankie has opted out of our morning walks lately - he skitters up to the road with us, but then just parades around the parked cars, guarding the house until we return.) 

The softness and quiet are deceiving - this day is going to bust loose like a bronco out of the gate in just a few minutes. First, there's work. I'll be out for a few days and there is a lot that needs to be done. But I leave early to head downtown to Michael's house - a respite from the busy day - then on to "Mom" duties with Kendall and Daniel.

Home again this evening, I'll turn my focus to packing for a weekend that shines like a beacon the rest of the year - my annual girls' trip to the coast.

So...I have to take this minute to wish one of my dearest friends a happy birthday, because I know the day will get away from me and my mind will soon be running in a million different directions. Happy birthday, Patti! I'm so grateful for the circle our friendship has taken, for paths that led us back to one another. I'm grateful for our memories and look forward to making many more. I hope you have a wonderful day!

I am a Mom

Plans for the weekend:

Friday night - celebrate anniversary with Tom
Saturday - UT vs. UTEP game with Mary Kay and Joe; write; clean off desk; attend Lagopalooza fundraiser and, if time, catch Linton Mancilla at True Grits
Sunday - early Mass; grocery store; work-out; write

Reality of the weekend:

Friday night: celebrated anniversary with Tom
Saturday -UT vs. UTEP game with Mary Kay and Joe; pick-up Kendall from dorm; dinner with Mary Kay and Joe (only way they'll let us repay them for taking us to the game!); tried to write and tried to read but everything was blurry...
Sunday - early Mass; six hour shopping trip with Kendall; dinner at home (thank you for cooking the roast, Tom!); laundry (mostly Kendall's); mad dash just before closing time to Target for little black dress that Kendall just found out she needs tomorrow; up late trying to download new version of Adobe to print out Kendall's Austin City Limits festival ticket that I can't afford myself...

Summer Returns as Longhorns Trample Miners

"I cannot endure to waste anything as precious as autumn sunshine by staying in the house." ~ Nathaniel Hawthorne

My thoughts echoed Nathaniel's when I first woke up this morning and saw the brilliant autumn sunshine beckoning and felt the brisk breeze coming through my windows. It was a gorgeous, perfect autumn morning.

Unfortunately, summer wasn't ready to give up the stage - it returned for an encore a few hours later just as we took our seats in the Darrell K. Royal - Texas Memorial Stadium, so we baked and sweated in the stands for four hours as the Longhorns whooped the UT-El Paso Miners. (Final score 64-7... ouch!)

We were guests of our friends Mary Kay and Joe, avid Longhorn fans, no matter what the sport. Their son is on the Big Bertha team this year.

In return, we treated them to dinner at Waterloo Ice House after the game, and after picking Kendall up from her dorm (it's time for another shopping trip!)

It's funny...I said all week, "oh, I'll just take care of that this weekend..." about all of the tasks piling up around here. But now the weekend is halfway over, tomorrow seems to be spoken for between Mass and shopping, and I haven't done a damn thing on my list! Also, I'm still struggling with Chapter 3 on my book (although I think once this one is complete, the next few will flow quickly.) Next weekend is my girls' weekend on the coast, so I can't even tell myself "next weekend" with a straight face. I know I'd be lying.

It's really tough to get things done when you're never at home to do them. But I'm not complaining...I've been having a blast and the things that really need to get done somehow get done. The rest will just have to wait. Maybe weekend after next...

Am I the only one who feels like they never get anything accomplished?

Scenes from the day...

Hitting the Jackpot!

Aside from holidays, it's a rare day when I get to see all three of my kids. That's one of the down sides of this Empty Nest thing. And even holidays aren't a given anymore.

But today is one of those rare, treasured days! I spent the whole day with Kendall, battling early morning Austin traffic to snatch her from her dorm and hop from one doctor's office to another. First the talkative Nose doctor (I'm too lazy to look up the official term - we've just been calling him the Nose doctor) who entertained us with exciting stories of his Alaskan moose-hunting trips while inspecting Kendall's deviated septum with a long scope. He even let me take a look!

Next, we dashed down the highway to the Allergy doctor's office for our flu shots, shared veggie enchiladas and jalapeno ranch dip at Chuey's, and stocked up on healthy food for her at HEB.  We had just enough time to drop the goods off at her dorm (I finally got to meet her roommate) and make it to her cardiologist appointment. She's a pediatric cardiologist - a few years ago when Kendall was playing soccer and running cross-country and there were so many news reports of teenage athletes dropping dead from undiagnosed heart problems, I remembered Kendall's heart murmur diagnosis from her toddler days. (My mother helped me remember!) We had been told it wasn't something to be concerned about, but nevertheless, I knew my mother and I would both rest a lot easier if we had it checked out. The doctor noticed some "abnormalities" but nothing serious - not enough to restrict her activities. Yet...she wanted to see Kendall again. So back we went today to an examining room filled with children's books and Tonka trucks and walls lapped with painted blue waves and chicks and bunnies dotting the examining table. We watched her heart beating strongly on a monitor, (thank you, Lord - what an amazing miracle of machinery!), blood pumping in electric red and blue. Brandon, the technician, gave her a souvenir photograph of it to pin on her wall. The doctor says there has been no change from three years ago...but wants to see her again in three more years. She gets to lay on the bunny and chick table again when she's twenty-one! I hope she lets me go with her so once again I can watch her heart pulsing on the screen, listen to the 'swoosh-swoosh' and remember the first time I heard that wonderful sound of her heart beating, back when it was still housed within my body.

Before heading home, we stopped by Daniel's apartment, delivering goodies from the grocery store and some "mom advice" (nagging) which he takes very sweetly and patiently. Kendall was coming home for the night - it's our high school Homecoming game - but Daniel decided to stay on campus. He'll get to see Tommy tomorrow. So I got my Daniel hug and kiss and headed home with Kendall.

Now Tommy is less than thirty minutes away. Soon he'll be walking through the door, a sight for my sore Mama eyes. I can't even remember the last time I saw him! Seeing the kids head off to college is pretty tough, but at least you still have those long breaks when they're back home and you can fall back into the rut of irritating each other. But once they graduate and have their own place...that's really tough. You're happy for them, of course, and you don't really want them to move back home, but still...you can't help thinking back to when they were around all the time.

We take so much for granted...noses and hearts, kids and days spent together...

Looking Back on a Good Day

Wednesday started out just copying Tuesday...coffee, toast, fresh air and critter-care, work-out, shower and on to work (computer, computer, computer - trademark screenings, emails, blog posts.) No originality at all!  But sometime after lunch, I felt a change. Not in the routine, but in my attitude, where all real change takes place.

After work, I chased the clouds from my brain, determined to make the best of the few short hours of Wednesday that were left to me, rather than fall victim to the overwhelmed blahs of the day before.

I called my mom - that's always a good use of time. I stopped at our tiny grocery store for bananas and tomatoes, and donated a $1 to the Leukemia Society...or some other worthy cause. I'm not really sure which one - I was still talking to my mom and just nodded agreement to the teenage cashier's question (how could I resist, even if I wanted to? I remembered him as a kindergartner in my librarian days.)

Frankie met me in the driveway and escorted me to the house, where he performed his daily inspection of the front bathroom (he peeks in, tiptoes a little farther, stretches his neck and looks all around, then, once satisfied, he turns and heads back out the front door.) Tom had beat me home and already had chicken on the grill (that helped with the attitude) so, after I gave Frankie and the puppies their treats, I washed the green leaf lettuce and gathered the rest of the salad fixin's.

Tom and I make a good team, dancing around each other, seeing what needs to be done and just doing it. We've divided up some chores, now that there are no children at home to boss around, but mostly we just fill in where needed.

I had a mission for the evening - a list of goals - but before I could move beyond the first load of laundry, we decided to take a walk to check on the pond. (I wish I had thought to grab my camera on the way out the door.) The recent rain didn't fill the pond by any means - there's only about a foot of water in the lowest end, but that was enough to make Max happy. He waded in and promptly laid down. Charly followed Tom down the hill to the pond, but despite the Lab in him, he's not a water-lover. He tiptoed around, but he's not fond of a wet belly. Frankie and I stayed up on the road - I already have one pair of muddy tennis shoes, and didn't want another, and Frankie was singing up a storm about all of the bugs he was finding. Lots of big black beetles. He was back in Frankie-Lee mode.

Next, we crossed the earthen dam under the cypress tress to the other side of the pond - it used to be such a pretty view, standing there, looking out across the pond. But now there's a big wall of dirt splotchily draped in fake Easter-grass green, instead of a pretty marsh. I turned away. 

We followed the trail down to the little pond, where the water is actually up to Charly's belly and it's so clear we could see orange crawdads swimming around. It's a little grotto, and green fern usually drips around the edges, but the drought has left it's mark - the fern still hangs in places, but it's brown and lifeless. Yet, I'm optimistic it will return. It's a native - tough and resilient.

Back on the porch, my agenda briefly popped into my head, but skittered away at Tom's suggestion of ping-pong. It was almost too dark, but we don't keep score anyway. We played off the house, the porch ceiling, the ground, and once, almost off of Frankie - he was standing near me on the rock ledge, getting drinks of water from the natural recesses in the stone surface. He's quick, though, and skittered away just before the ball hit him, wings spread wide and squawking his protest. 

Finally, when we were playing by sound as much as sight, we laid down our paddles, came back inside, and I finally turned to the computer. But not to work on my book, unfortunately. Not yet. My mission today was more practical: I consolidated our college loans...the ones for our kids. Why didn't I do this sooner? We have been drowning and..okay, it's not necessarily a lifesaver, but it'll cut our payments in half and help us stay afloat until I can write my bestseller and make a million dollars (how's that for a financial plan?)

And now it's done. Work, walking, ping-pong, and a grabbing a lifesaver. All in all, it's been a pretty good day.

Shopping with a Side of Basterds

Saturday was getting pretty tight, but with some determination and a little creative packing, Kendall and I managed to squeeze the Basterds in between Target and HEB. It meant some of my Saturday spilled over into Sunday - it was 1 a.m. before I got home from all the shopping and shuttling - but it was worth it getting to spend time with Kendall, grab a hug and kiss from Daniel, and get my movie and popcorn fix. 

Now, I'm not a passionate Tarantino fan, but I do recognize his talent and creativity, and I've seen most of his movies. I've enjoyed quite a few of them to a certain extent. But there are two things about his movies that always distract me from the brilliant screenplay and acting:  for me, he just goes too far with the violence and blood (I know, I know...it's meant to be over the top, blah, blah, blah...it's a long-running discussion with my kids) and his characters, while being very detailed and interesting...well, I just don't really like a lot of them. As in...I just don't care one way or another about them. They don't have any redeeming values. I like to "feel" during a movie - happy, sad, mad - and if you can't sympathize with something about the character, you're not going to feel very much.

But...I'd heard good things about "Inglourious Basterds," and wanted to see for myself. My verdict? I think it's Tarantino's best movie (of the ones I've seen, anyway.) It's a gutsy, creative story.  The screenplay is tight, and the acting is fantastic (all of the actors...not just Brad Pitt.) During the course of the 153 minutes (it sure didn't seem that long) I laughed, cheered, gasped with fear and surprise, and got mad. I didn't cry, but I did feel sad. Tarantino is an expert at using camera angles, lighting, music and flashbacks.

I expected the high level of violence (after all, the whole story is about killing Nazis! It's a war story!), but I still felt there was more gore than necessary (about the same level as "Saving Private Ryan".) 

The rest of us have imaginations, too, Quentin. Let us use them!

Celebrating Rae with the Grateful Geezers (or Oh, My Aching Feet!)

I believe the last big Fifty party has come and gone - and it was a Grand Finale, just like at the end of a fabulous 4th of July fireworks show.

Of course, I have to make it clear that Rae is not 50. Yet. She is hanging on tight to 49 for three more days. But that didn't stop us from celebrating, because we're celebrating her and our friendship, as much as a date on the calendar.

In typical Rae-fashion, this party felt like a gift from her to all of us. There was Mexican food, frozen margaritas, the Grateful Geezers, and a dance floor. There were people at this party that haven't even been to a class reunion - people from other classes that I haven't seen in over thirty years - interesting people I'd never met before - and even one of my elementary school teachers who was barely old enough to teach back then and doesn't look like she's aged a day in forty years.

I regret that I didn't spend more time visiting, but once the Grateful Geezers started playing, I couldn't leave the dance floor. They are fantastic! It was like they cast a spell on me - one great dance song after another - and I couldn't resist. Thank goodness they had the same effect on many of the others - I was never alone on the dance floor, that's for sure. I even somehow persuaded Tom to polka with me (there must have been magic in the air!)

Between the heat, humidity, and dancing, I was soaking wet with sweat; my hair was plastered to my head, and I had blisters on my feet, but I didn't care (well...I admit that in the group picture, I stood on the ledge in the back with the other members of the Thinning Hair Club...all guys of course.)

Knowing how much it means to Rae to give to others, for her birthday several of us surprised her by pitching in and donating $600 to a scholarship fund set up in her brother Milton's name at the local college. Milton was killed in a hunting accident several years ago, and the scholarship fund is just one of many ways they keep his memory alive. We also set aside a little for a gift card to a nursery - Rae is addicted to planting beautiful things in her yard. Not a bad vice, really.

After we planned our gift, a Pasadena policeman was killed in the line of duty. Again, in typical Rae-fashion she requested donations on behalf of his wife and small children in lieu of gifts to herself. By the end of the night she had over $1800 to present to them.

The night ended way too soon, despite what my feet were telling me. Tom and I were among the last to straggle out the door.

The next morning, after relaxing with Mama and Daddy, and enjoying lunch at Chili's with my siblings, we headed back to Austin...but not straight home.

First, we went downtown to pick up a few things at the grocery store for Kendall (and Daniel since we were going), making the mistake of going to Central Market, which we discovered just masquerades as a grocery store - it's really a serpentine, tunnel-like maze lined with expensive, imported things you can't find anywhere else, and that take the place of the simple (and cheap) things we needed for the kids. I wish I'd taken my camera in, though, for a shot of the woman in front of us with the pink hair and matching pink tail pinned to the rear of her jacket. Yep, we were back in Austin.

Entertained, but empty-handed, we headed to a nearby Randall's - still too expensive but at least they had lunchmeat - made our deliveries to my babies (collected my hugs and kisses), then still had to stop at my HEB for our groceries (pretty good variety, cheaper prices, and good music playing in the background) before we could finally roll down our dirt road to the house.

What a weekend...but totally worth the bags under my eyes and the blisters on my feet. Thank you, Rae! Now, when do the Fifty-One parties start?

Barbara (otherwise known as "Ms. Haygood" in our previous lives), with me and former classmates, Mike and David...

Presenting Rae with her representative "check" made out to the scholarship fund (Leslie did such a great job making the check!)

 

The Grateful Geezers singing to Rae...

Our group of Deer Park High School class of '77 - including Dave, our newly adopted "foreign exchange student" from New Zealand (really Rae and her husband's guide from their trip this year, but we just couldn't exclude him!)

Mama and Daddy at lunch on Sunday...

 

"...as it should be."

Kendall is really and truly a college student now, surrounded with college and all things college-related. By the time I got home from work yesterday, she had her things packed and ready to go. She had even tidied up her bedroom!

Daniel and his friend Austin met us at her dorm and helped us get her moved in, showed her the right way to swipe her ID card to get into the building, gave her bits of advice and answered questions her dad and I couldn't.

As evening settled in, we took a break to treat the kids to pizza and hoagies at the Mellow Mushroom on the Drag. Before finally heading back home in the empty van, leaving my baby girl behind, alone because her roommate hadn't yet shown up, we unpacked a few boxes, made her bed, and stocked up on hugs and kisses.

It was a long, quiet ride home, heat lightning flashing silently around us...home to a house now empty in a totally different, weird way.

So what the heck was I thinking today?

I decided to watch a movie while I worked out - I've been a slug for a week now and didn't feel quite up to Trainer Ted's standards yet. I chose something no one except Tommy would agree to watch with me lately, and he was just being sweet: "Mary Poppins." (Tommy even agreed it's really a good movie, or at least better than he remembered - he caught all of the adult humor this time. If you think it's just a kids' movie, you need to take another look! It's really very funny, has great acting and timing...it's one of only a handful of movies that I think is better than the book.)

But, really, what was I thinking? It's tells the story of someone who becomes very attached to the children she is taking care of, only to have them stop needing her. The ending scene shows how they have totally forgotten all about her! You don't have to be a psychologist to see the significance of my choice!

I realized all of this as I was clicking through the previews, but I decided to watch it anyway. At least the first thirty minutes or so, when they clean up the nursery, one of my favorite scenes - wishful thinking, probably. ("Just a teaspoon of sugar helps the medicine go down..." is actually a bit of sound advice for my present situation, I think.)

And then I fast forwarded to the end scene...the one where the kids are happily flying kites and singing "Let's Go Fly a Kite" (that song always made me cry even when I was little for some reason - a premonition, perhaps?) and Mary watches them wistfully and shushes her umbrella when he talks about how ungrateful they are because they've totally forgotten her, and she just smiles that little smile and says "That's as it should be."

She's right, of course. And I know it. This is how it should be and what I've worked for since the day they were born. So I ended up not crying, even during "Let's Go Fly a Kite," because I realized I'm actually happy and excited for Kendall as she starts this new adventure of her life.

Besides, I know from my own experience, and with Tommy and Daniel, that she's not really "gone". She hasn't forgotten us, and as time goes on, she'll appreciate us even more than she does now.

Wise woman, that Mary Poppins. 

The van, loaded and ready to roll...UT tower...kissing my baby goodnight, not goodbye...Tom, happy...Austin, Daniel, Kendall on the Drag, as it should be. For now, anyway.

 

Those little things you take for granted...

Charly's face, hopeful and questioning, peered at me through the French doors, his white fur glowing in the soft light of dawn. He hadn't done that in ages - obviously, he took our morning walks for granted as much as I did. But this was going on three days! Please, Mom?

"Don't worry - we're going this morning. Just give me a few minutes..."

That was yesterday morning, when I was thinking, "Is this what a bear feels like, crawling from his cave after months of hibernation, blinking in the sunlight and thinking, perhaps, one more day in the cave would be nice?"

 But, no...maybe I was a little wobbly (I lagged behind Charly when we finally hit the road) but I'd had enough of lying around. It was nice being able to just shut a door in my mind to all of the things that needed to be done while I was sick, but once that door opened, I couldn't make it close again, couldn't make the images go away - the empty refrigerator, piles of laundry, piles of paperwork, lists of phone calls, the meager paycheck-yet-to-come from missing two days...

Tom did a great job keeping up with dishes, cooking, taking care of the critters and me, but, bless his heart, between work and his daily commute to the other side of Austin, he only has a few hours of free time in the evening to get anything done.

Besides...SURPRISE! Kendall realized she moves into her dorm TONIGHT, not Saturday! So yesterday was very, very full - work, shopping, packing, laundry, phone calls...and today will be the same - more shopping, more laundry, work (to help pay for all of this), more packing, and then...MOVE-IN! I'm grateful I started feeling more like a human than a slug.

Being sick is the pits - it always reminds me what a wimp I am! I don't know how other people manage it...I know there are people out there that deal with illness every day, knowing it's not just going to go away with some antibiotics, and that the strongest meds out there don't even dull the knife of pain some people live with all the time.

I missed out on a lot growing up with my asthma...picture days, slumber parties, real Christmas trees (I spent Christmas Day night in the emergency room the one year my parents gave in to my pleas.) And my first experience on an airplane was flying home after a long bus ride to St. Louis on an 8th grade church choir trip - long because we stopped at emergency rooms along the way to keep me breathing. Sorry Don, Patti, Denise, David, and every one else on that bus...

Because of my experience I don't take my lungs or even breathing for granted...most of the time, anyway - I remember too well that suffocating feeling. It still comes around to remind me every so often, but now there are preventative medicines available, which I'm sure I DO take for granted.

Just like my bladder - one of those workers you just expect to do their job without as much as a "nice job" or a "thank-you." Instead of giving them breaks, you give them more to do, make their jobs tougher. Not anymore. A cranberry pill will be joining my morning arsenal - calcium supplements, Vitamin D, etc.

Of course, nothing is certain in life, right? Sometimes, things happen beyond our control and despite our best efforts.  My asthma...some types of cancer...it seems our parts can have flaws and weaknesses, just like our personalities.

Josh, one of my son Daniel's friends since childhood, had just returned from spring break last year, ready to finish his spring semester of college. Next thing he knew, he was in the emergency room hearing that his kidneys had shut down. It turns out kidney disease had been lurking quietly in his body, deciding to make a surprise appearance without knocking first...like a home invader robbing Josh of his health, that I'm sure (being a kid) he had taken for granted. He had to withdraw from school (which he obviously DIDN'T take for granted - he was doing great) and return home.

It's tough enough hearing about someone my age dealing with a major health problem - I still feel we are way too young, and it always surprises me to find out we're not! But to hear that this kid that I've watched grow up, from the hyper little scout in my Wolf Cub den to a talented, award-winning actor and trombone player in high school, is now on dialysis three times a week, keeping his fingers crossed, PRAYING for a kidney transplant this fall so he can return to school for the 2010 spring semester ...well, it just breaks my heart.

Now he's facing another battle...all the issues involved with a transplant. Like money. He hasn't had insurance for years. Medicare and Medicaid will cover the cost of the transplant itself, but there are many other costs involved. His family has teamed up with the Children's Organ Transplant Association  in the hopes of raising another $40,000 that will be needed (to read more about Josh or to donate, check out his COTA website here.)

The good news is Josh's mom recently found out she's a blood type and tissue match - if she passes the other health screenings, she'll be able to donate a kidney to save her son's life.

That's just another reason not to take my health or any of the parts, thereof, for granted. I might need them someday to help one of my own kids - three things I don't ever want to take for granted even when they're driving me crazy, not doing what I think they should be doing.

Speaking of...I better get moving on the rest of my day...shopping, work, laundry, packing, moving...

Betrayal! (or...This isn't What I Ordered!)

It was supposed to be a taste of the next course in our life - Empty Nest. But if this is what it tastes like, can I send it back?

Not really, but...COME ON! Kendall was gone for the past few days - which means ALL the kids were gone...Tom and I had the house all to ourselves...and wouldn't you know? We both felt like crap-ola! His was a headache that wouldn't go away. Mine was the first bladder infection I've had in close to thirty years - and only the second in my life. That first one is why I switched from soda to water. I NEVER wanted to go through that again.

This one hit me out of the blue Sunday evening...seemed to back away yesterday morning... then hit me again yesterday afternoon with all guns blazing.  I think I'm on the "up" side now - I just returned from the doctor and my first antibiotic is in my tummy, hopefully waging war on that nasty infection...just in time for Kendall to be home in a few hours.

I have to admit, it was kind of cozy just cuddling (and groaning) in bed, watching crime dramas together - not my first pick, but there wasn't a big selection. I dozed as much as possible anyway.

But it wouldn't have been my first pick of an evening home alone with my sweetie. And I'm wondering what the heck is going on with my body! I rarely get sick, yet I've had to make two non-checkup trips like this to a doctor's office just since I turned fifty! I'm guessing there will be more surprises coming my way.

I just hope I start feeling better fast so I can enjoy the next few days with Kendall before we drop her at her dorm and our plate of Empty Nest really arrives. I hope the real thing tastes better than this sample.

Taggin' Along and Catchin' Up

My friend Darla's daughter finished up two weeks of summer camp in East Texas today. Another friend, Patti, offered to let her spend last night at her lakehouse near the camp so she wouldn't have to make such a long drive first thing this morning. Darla invited me to go along just for fun.

Heck, yes! Road trip!

Never mind that I'm always complaining about not having enough time in the day to get everything done and that I'm quick to use "no time" as an excuse that the laundry is piling up or the refrigerator is empty or my book isn't written.  Life's just too short to pass up a chance for a change of scenery...hours yakking with dear friends...sipping margaritas as the sun sets on a beautiful lake...witnessing first hand the reunion between a mother and daughter who have been separated for two weeks...and, to be honest, catching a glimpse of what a real "Parent Trap" camp looks like.

So what if I'm sitting at the end of another "not much accomplished" weekend - I have no regrets at all. For one thing, at the end of last week I zoomed around getting things done just so I could go without too much guilt - I was whooped! I needed a break!

 Here's a quick update of the end of last week... 

Thursday...our anniversary. We had a wonderful dinner at Outback Steakhouse (free, thanks to a gift card someone special gave us.) And even though my car was supposed to be my our anniversary gift, he surprised me with a Windberg print of an old barn he discovered on Craig's List (I've been a fan for thirty years) and a beautiful, sweet card - a good thing, because of the video he sent me via email earlier in the week, entitled "The Perfect Marriage" (see it below.)

 My gift to him? I settled on only one card instead of buying three like I usually do and I'm not taking a class this semester. (I know...pretty lame...but he really is impossible to shop for! And these things really do make him happy!)

Friday...Kendall's last day at work. Our bosses took us both to lunch at a new place in town (new for all of us, anyway.) I'm going to miss having her nearby all day long.

After dinner we shopped - I think we scoured every clearance rack in Kohl's and finished up just before the lights went out - and laughed till we cried listening to comedy channels on my free-for-now XM Radio. It's hard to believe that this time next week she'll be settling into life as a college freshman, and Tom and I will really and truly be empty-nesters!

Below...a taste of lake life with dear friends...a sign from the camp (I want one for my house!)...the "funny" email Tom sent me...

 

Sidetracked

Tom stood in the doorway, bent over, hands on his knees.

"Did you almost faint or something?"

He shook his head, smiling. Or was it a grimace? "My back. Here...help me." He put a hand on my shoulder and pushed until (groaning the whole way) he was standing up straight. He hobbled back over to the bed and, groaning loudly again, stretched out flat. (Sigh of relief.)

Well, so much for our Friday night plans - a birthday party and music in the woods. And all it took was working a screwdriver in just the right "wrong" position a little too long to weaken some important muscle (or disc? Hope not!), and then just the right "wrong" movement a few hours later to throw it into a tizzy.

Poor Tom...this was going to be a weekend to get things done. He always has several projects going at once, plus all the surprise attacks that pop up...the most recent is a search for the least-expensive new carburetor he can find for the Suzuki Samurai so it can pass the emissions inspection. Despite his aching back, he set his alarm to wake him up early this morning, determined to "get things done" (I kept snoozing)...but a few hours sitting at the computer already did him in: he's back in bed. I keep asking what I can do to help - I've even offered to clean the jacuzzi tub for him to soak in for a while to soothe those muscles. He just says leave him alone and quit bothering him. Such a sweetheart. So I'm biting my tongue and leaving him alone to groan in peace and solitude (although I still think soaking in the tub would help.)

I'm having a great weekend so far, though! I've been tackling to-do lists...sticking to my work-outs...catching up with laundry and Facebook. What a surprise to sign on there last night and discover a video of myself as a baby, being held, bounced and kissed by my grandmother and mother (and a glimpse of my thirty-three-year-old dad in the background.) My cousin digitalized her parents' old family movies and is generously sharing clips of them...such priceless memories and images, frozen in time in a way that photographs just can't deliver. Thank you Aunt Mavis and Uncle Charles for recording them, and Charlene for preserving and sharing them! It's given me new incentive to dig out our old VHS tapes and finally transfer them to DVD - a summer project I planned to tackle two summers ago that somehow slipped off of my to-do list (well, more likely got pushed off by more urgent duties!)  

   Last night I also took advantage of having Daniel home to get my funny movie fix - we watched "Bowfinger" with Steve Martin and Eddie Murphy. It's full of talented people and lots of laughs and has probably the funniest movie ending I've ever seen. I've lost count of how many times I've seen it, but it still makes me cry with laughter. Of course, I love silly movies. Keep that in mind...

But now break-time is over...Kendall and I are headed into town to shop for dorm things. Summer is almost over, once again...

Ch...Ch...Ch...Changes (Yesterday In Pictures)

A new stage in life for Daniel as of yesterday...no more dorms. We loaded up the black truck and the van with most of his bedroom and delivered it to a quiet apartment complex several blocks from the university. I have to give him and his roommate Austin credit for doing their homework and settling for one that isn't fancy and isn't close, but is within peddling distance (and on a bus route for rainy days.) They even had the forethought to get one on the ground floor to save on electricity during these 100+ days. We were sure grateful for that point when we were unloading beds, couches and heavy boxes from Austin's stuffed U-Haul trailer. (The loaded-down black truck...Daniel and Austin carrying in couch after couch...Austin's a great scavenger!)

Now we only hope they focus on their OTHER homework...

That was the last tour of duty for the black truck. Tom and I used it as our "clunker" in the government's "Cash for Clunker" program. Now there's a pretty little "apple red pearl" Hyundai Elantra sitting in its place out front. I never thought I'd own a new car again. Life is full of surprises! (our wonderful salesman Sean - what a great kid!...my new little Elantra...can you tell it's been a long, long day?)

Uncertain Skies...Reminders of a Year in the Life

"Barbara Inez...just what have you been up to? I mean I've already been gone a week and I'm sure a lot has happened..."  "...Barb, I hope you get your tail in gear and get up here to see me. It's just beautiful..."  "I've always loved that song "You've got a friend" by Carol King and it fits us perfectly..." 

I found these words last week in a yellow and orange scrapbook filled with ticket stubs, letters, newspaper clippings and other relics of 1977. They're from Ann to me, from Utah to Texas, 32 years ago. 

So much has happened recently that reminds me of those years. There was Kendall's high school graduation and eighteenth birthday, and then this morning Daniel moved into his first apartment. I didn't move into mine until 1978, but events in 1977 pushed me in that direction.

This morning's sky held gray clouds that hinted at rain, but also patches of sunshine-filled blue...just the right balance of uncertainty and hopefulness for Daniel's move-in day and the beginning of a new chapter in his life...living off campus with his own bedroom and a roommate who's future also hinges on how this semester goes. 

 Sunshine prevailed - no rain fell to ruin his furniture and clothes packed tight in the back of the truck. We need the rain, but I was grateful for sunshine today. I hope it portends a semester with a happy, sunshine-y ending. I keep hoping my kids learn from my college mistakes - I want them to hang on, bounce back, keep trying.

As if moving Daniel into an apartment wasn't enough, today we bought a brand new car!! Specifically an apple red Hyundai Elantra. It's the first new car I've owned in almost twenty years...the first compact car in more than twenty. I admit - it's scary. But we couldn't afford to NOT take advantage of the government's Cash for Clunkers program. We doubled our money on our old black truck after abusing it for five years...AND we have a full warranty. It was our early anniversary gift to each other - for me, a new car...for Tom, freedom from working on my car.

But it also reminded me of 1977...the year of my first new car - a Toyota Celica GT Liftback - and Bad Company's "Burning Sky" on 8-Track.

1977 was my first real 8 to 5 job...Stephen King books...Star Wars...Ted Nugent...Bad Company...Kiss...Eagles...South Padre on the 4th of July with Ann, Jena and Carey...a week with Ann at Utah State when I found out my parents were getting divorced...a feeling that I was lost, falling, drowning.

1977 was University of Houston... scholarships and chemical engineering...and days driving to Galveston, sitting on the seawall , too overwhelmed by the thoughts swirling in my head to worry about school...

1977 was an intense year  - one of more highs and lows than any other in my life. It was almost my last...

It seems ironically appropriate...almost too coincidental, as if it was written this way for a movie...that the autumn night I returned my Homecoming Queen crown was a night I decided there was nothing in my life worth living for. It wasn't a conscious, premeditated thought...the idea had never even crossed my mind before! Rather, it was an impulsive, depression-fueled-by-alcohol action, followed by "Oh, my gosh, what have I done?" In that instant when it was almost too late, I realized that no matter how bad I thought things were, I wanted to live.

I guess that's all God needed - I had turned my back on him a year or two before, but he hadn't forgotten me. He sent angels to watch over me and rescue me that night, and later, my sister's tears washed the remaining dark clouds from my brain - the ones I had let slip in to distort reality. It broke my heart to know I had hurt her and the rest of my family. I'm ashamed now to admit I let such piddly little obstacles break my spirit. I'd like to say I was much stronger than that. But I had forgotten the source of my strength, and when my other moorings were broken, I floundered.

Looking through the scrapbook reminds me how weak I really am, by myself. I shared my experience with my kids years ago, hoping it would be a reminder to them that no matter how bad things get, as long as you're breathing you have hope...you have a chance to change things...and that no matter how badly you screw up, God is standing by, ready to pick you back up if you just ask.

On the practical side, I've also warned them not to drink when they're depressed. I think everyone has up days and down days - that's just normal. It's human. But alcohol magnifies those dark clouds - it keeps you from seeing that there is still blue sky peeking from behind, and that soon the clouds will pass on by. I still have those days myself, but instead of trying to drink my sorrows away, I write my sorrows...pray my sorrows...love my sorrows away.

Back in 1977 I felt like all my friends had scattered and I was all alone. But looking through the scrapbook I see nothing but familiar faces and names...faces and names that for the most part are still a part of my life.

Ann, of course...we still write each other (only it's in e-mails or Facebook messages), talk on the phone, dance, even wrap houses. Mark, my boyfriend's little brother, who I felt was MY little brother. Tamara...another constant friend who had a birthday this week. My sister Brenda, whose tears woke me up. My parents, who taught me about unconditional love. They worked things out and remarried after four years - another example that you should never give up. Randy, who has popped in and out of my life over the years...a friend who helped me remember there were good things about my 1977 self...things worth dusting off and protecting. I have him to thank for encouraging me to stubbornly stay in school and turn back to writing.

   They have all faced much, MUCH bigger challenges, setbacks, obstacles, disappointments, sorrows than I ever have ...yet they haven't been broken. Every day they inspire me.

I shared my story just in case it helps someone else who feels like they have screwed up too bad or too often to ever make it right, or that they don't have anyone who cares about them so "it doesn't really matter..." I thank God every day that I'm still here...I look at all the blessings I've been given - my husband, my kids, my family and friends...and today, a new car! We may never realize what our lives mean in the whole grand scheme of things - we can only trust that they do mean something, and try to do our best with what we are given... We have to make sure our lives make a difference somehow.  Never, ever think it's too late. Never, ever take them for granted.

Whew! What a Weekend! I Need a Break!

    A new week starts tomorrow - a week that is going to keep me running from 5 am Monday morning until 4:30 Friday afternoon. Not only do I have the normal weekly challenges, but we're going to go computer shopping (Kendall) and car shopping (me!) And on top of that, I've got the weekend's overflow to contend with...things I should have gotten done this weekend, but didn't because I was too busy having fun.

    It was a weekend of reunions...Friday night Tom's old boss Al had an open house at his office. For Tom it was comparable to a high school reunion. Al was one of three owners of a small engineering company - Tom's first job in Austin. It was a tight-knit bunch. For reasons I won't go into here, the group has for the most part moved on to new jobs, but thanks to Al, every six months or so they come together. One of the old bunch is a member of a band - Relentless Jones - that has performed at the last two open houses. And they rock! We stayed WAY too late - another late Friday that got me off to a late start Saturday.

 

 

    But Saturday night we had another reunion - with my high school friends...a 50th birthday celebration for our friend Leslie (it was actually in June, but we couldn't pin her down to celebrate with her until now!) at the Steiner Ranch Steakhouse - a perfect place to be on a hot Texas night...first a fabulous dinner in a cold dining room, watching the sunset, and then listening to live music under the stars on a hill overlooking the Texas hill country, soothed by a constant breeze at just the right temperature. It was hard to leave, but I was determined to get enough sleep before my alarm went off for church this morning.

 

 

    This afternoon we had another reunion...with Tommy! He had swooped in from Dallas Friday night while we were gone and snatched his little sister up for a weekend of fun in Austin and San Antonio. He's such a great big brother! (He asked Daniel, too, but he couldn't take off work.) He brought her back home early this afternoon and stuck around long enough to watch a movie with me and Tom (the Ed Norton version of "The Hulk" - actually a good movie!) and walk down to see the latest devastation at the dam with Tom: the "erosion control" blanket of grass is sliding down the hill, along with a lot of the dirt. I guess I'll be contacting authorities again this week...just another item for my "to-do" list!

 

    But right now I still feel too "up" from the weekend to feel down about it. I'll deal with that later...

Thinking back... a Decade of Port A

    For several nights I've been scanning and scanning pictures...dozens of pictures depicting a rite of friendship that is celebrating its 10th anniversary this year - my annual Lago Women's Trip to Port Aransas.

    My friend Nancy asked for the photos months ago - she wants to compile a scrapbook. I jotted it on my list..."photos to Nancy"...and had very good intentions...but the months flew by and suddenly, we're down to the wire once again.

    The problem with 'film' photos is...they're film! They have to be pulled from an album, scanned and saved, one by one. But I discovered an 'up' side to this - I was forced to slow down, really look at the photos for the first time in ages...think about the years that have come and gone in between...the things we've survived, the things that we just couldn't overcome or control.

    Ten years doesn't seem that long ago - until I take a closer look at our faces. I had just turned 40 the first year we went! I don't think I'd ever realized that before...never made the connection. No wonder I had the overwhelming urge to pack up my things and escape my life...my kids, my husband, my house and all that comes with it...not forever, of course...just for a few days. 

    I just wanted to step into a void - which I envisioned as the beach. I could see myself on a lounge chair facing the waves, reading a book (this is before I needed my readers!) and sipping on a tall, cold margarita. I could feel the sun warming me...the surf and the gulls singing to me. There would be no meals to cook, no dishes to wash. I'd just eat dry roasted peanuts. Maybe some salsa and chips. No one would be calling "Mom! I need..." or "Mom! Can you...?" I would just be me. I felt "I" and "me" needed to get re-acquainted.

    It wasn't TOO hard finding some women to go with me...but it wasn't as easy as I expected. But those of us that went were lightheaded...downright GIDDY..from the sense of freedom. Mary Kay, Jacque, and I were piled into Conni's van. That first year, and for a few years afterward, we made a loop below San Antonio on the way to pick up Nancy, who had moved away but even to this day is considered a Lago Vista Woman. We picked Rachel up at the tiny Port Aransas airport - her pilot husband Carl dropped her off - the plane was full of her kids, waving goodbye. I can't remember where they had been. Tamara, one of my Deer Park friends, and Marla, her sweet sister who recently passed away, met us at the condos. I'm glad I had that weekend with Marla. Kim and Susan also met us there with their husbands (in another condo, of course!)   

    That first year we decided it was so much fun...such a great idea...that we had another girls' weekend in November (a fabulous B&B in Fredericksburg)...and another in April (another fabulous B&B in Salado) and were planning a trip to New York City! Tom pulled me back down to reality. Once a year was plenty...I guess.  

    Over the years, some faces stayed the same, some replaced others. - with moms, there are always going to be scheduling conflicts...Girl Scout camp or training, football games, band competitions...you-name-it. We have a tendency to put others first. Especially our kids. Or even other people's kids.

    I've been selfish enough to go every year. With no regrets, whatsoever. I never had to resort to eating just dry roasted peanuts - what a surprise to discover some women actually LIKE to cook! And some really like to clean up! Live and learn...

    But it caught on...one year there were about fifty women from Lago Vista overrunning Port Aransas! We were everywhere! Naturally, back home...being such a small town...rumors spread like wildfire: "Oh..." (wink,wink) "...you were at Port Aransas!" (another wink, wink.) A few of us originals, who just craved a quiet escape (and no rumors), decided to go on a different weekend from the masses. We also wanted a chance at the Absolute Best room - the one that had a wall of windows facing the ocean. Enter...Hurt and Misunderstood Feelings, Episode #1

    That's the problem. As I perused each picture, remembered what was going on before, during, and after each particular moment captured in time, I thought of all the misunderstandings...hurt feelings...separations that have occurred over the years...despite the happy, laughing faces frozen in the photographs. And it makes me really, really sad.

    I see women who at one time were best friends...closer than sisters...laughing and hugging in pictures, but who now refuse to speak to each other. I see women that I myself once considered close friends, but that I haven't seen or talked to in months and months, even though we live in the same little town. 

    So many changes over such a short period of time. Our children have grown up. Marriages have weathered huge storms...or fallen apart. Our children have graduated, gotten jobs, had babies. We've gone back to school, gotten new jobs, moved away.  We've shared...withheld...judged...hurt feelings.

    Driving home from Port Aransas after that first trip...or the second...or even the third, I would never have guessed that in this year, our tenth, best friends would no longer be talking...or that the women I once saw once a week... confiding, laughing, crying, supporting...would turn judgmental and distant with each other. What happened to unconditional friendship, to writing "the bad things that are done to you in sand" and "the good things that happen to you on a piece of marble"? (Arabic Proverb)

    But no matter how sad all of that makes me, in my mind I see the dolphins dancing around the ferry, picture the sunrise from our balcony, and hear the surf and the empty dancefloor at Sharkey's calling me (because we go before the crowds hit.) 

     Port Aransas, here I come... 

Over the years...

 

 

 

    

    

A Wish for Eighteen

    This day will come and go quickly, just like all the others this summer...this past year...the past eighteen years...but one thing is different: with the coming and going of this day, my baby will turn eighteen.

    I get to spend the day with her - we've spent more time together the last few weeks than we have in years, I think, because we're working together. It's given us a chance to relate to each other in a whole new way, from different perspectives...preparing us for roles that will continue to shift as she pulls further and further away, becomes more and more independent. It's given me a glimpse of the person she is apart from The Daughter...and I think she is seeing me as someone other than The Mom. I like what I see. I can only hope that she does. 

    "Cleaning and dusting can wait till tomorrow, for babies grow up, we've learned to our sorrow. So settle down cobwebs and dust go to sleep...I'm rocking my baby, and babies don't keep."

    Ain't it the truth! I could try to hold on to these days...to her...but I know it's futile. And I wouldn't want to, anyway. Time flies. Babies grow up. That's the way of the world and the way it should be. Once upon a time, I was a baby...then I was a eighteen...and now I'm fifty. Before I know it, Kendall will be turning fifty and I'll still be wondering, as I'm sure my mother is, "How did this happen so fast?"   

    I'll try to make this day special for her somehow. I haven't quite figured out how. Like last year, she's asked for nothing special, offered no ideas on how we can help her celebrate. So I settled on a menu of grilled steaks, baked potatoes, and cheesecake - foods I know she likes. Or at least she liked them yesterday...she's changing day by day, right before my eyes, from the little girl that wanted me to carry her to bed, read to her, and tuck her in...to this emerging woman who lets me share bits of her life...who laughs with me, rants with me, cries with me, calms me, debates with me, listens to me, learns from me, teaches me...

     Still, when I look at her, I see all the ages that she's passed through...I see all the Kendalls she's been up until this day. And I know one thing will never change, whether she likes it or not...she'll always be my baby girl.   

    

   

Beach Collections

    

    Day 1 and Day 2 at the beach, I collected seashells and photographs. On Day 3, I collected thoughts...

• Tom is really just a little boy in a man's body... We were walking on the beach and a ghost crab dashed in front of us and plunged into a hole, trying to hide. Tom couldn't resist - he had to poke and prod at it until it scurried out of the hole with Tom right beside it, mimicking its comic sideways style. (I wish I had a picture of that!)

• Again, Tom is such a little boy... Daniel wandered back from a walk on the beach, laden down with coconuts. Small lavender-colored barnacles dotted one of them, and while I was thinking how cool that was and how pretty they were, Tom reached over and picked one off.

• People are pigs... It's heartbreaking to see all the trash that is left behind or washed up on shore, tossed off of unseen ships. Do they really think it just magically disappears?

• I don't know how to walk... How can it be possible that after walking miles on the beach, in some places sinking down three inches, the only sore muscles on my body were my big toes?

• Change is constant...I watched waves wash up and onto the level part of the beach, leaving a small pool that evaporated in nanoseconds. The shape and impression of the wave was left behind, and I thought, that's what a moment of time is like - it's here, it's gone, but if you look closely, you can see its impression left behind. Nothing ever stays the same.

• Okay, maybe some things never change... Daniel jogged past us on the beach. Tommy and Kendall followed a few seconds later. I thought, wow, my kids are so grown-up and health conscious! And then Tommy caught up to Daniel, lunged and grabbed him in a headlock. Kendall stood by laughing. And suddenly, they were ten, seven, and four again. I guess there's a little boy or girl living inside all of us. And I'm glad.

 

 

Reading and Other Forgotten Pleasures

    Sunday, I sat down in my in-law's sunroom, put my feet up, and finished reading a magazine I started two months ago.  Four more are waiting their turn in my suitcase and I'm feeling really optimistic that I'll get through them this week, too.

    I'm also determined to read a book -or at least start one. The first one in months...maybe a year. I made a late night deal on the side of the highway Friday to snatch a copy of my friend Larry Waddle's new western, West to Trust. I bet two cars in a pull-off area after dark...with money trading hands and a square package passed over...looked suspicious. I'm sure no one would believe it was a "book" deal and not a "drug" deal, but I thought the long hours with no routine duties ahead of me would be the perfect time (and maybe only chance) to read his book. I'd meant to order my copy online and had just never gotten around to it, but thank goodness Larry and Conni had an extra copy in their car and were able to make the deal with me on their way back from town.

    Yesterday morning I stretched out on the nearby beach in Navarre, soaking up the sun (after applying tons of sunscreen, of course!), watching surfers and seagulls, and listening to the waves crashing on the beach. The sand here is like snow - not just because it's near-blinding white, but because it squeaks when you walk on it. The water is green-blue and the perfect temperature right now, and felt so refreshing I ignored the more-than-usual amount of seaweed all around me. 

    One thing I love about the beach is how it draws people together - small communities of towels, chairs, and ice chests, side by side, separated by just a few feet of sand. Just next door to us a mom about my age, her pretty blonde daughter and granddaughter played in the sand. There were retired couples and teenagers, tanned surfers and young families, all drawn to the same place for the same reason.

    I've spent hours and hours losing at 3-13, one of those card games that really depends on your last hand but takes a LONG time to get there, especially when there are six or seven playing with three decks of cards. But that's just more time for talking and catching up, in between the teasing and bickering back and forth, anyway. The Shallue's are a competitive bunch.

    Also this week I've gone "junking" with two of my sister-in-laws, swam in a real swimming pool, and watched a movie. I've gone over 24 hours without getting on the internet - a recent record for sure - and survived.  I've had to grocery shop, clean, and do some laundry, but you just can't get away from some things when you're a mother. Tom and I walked to a nearby track this morning to run - there are some parts of your routine you don't want to leave behind.

    This afternoon the youngest set of Shallue's arrive - youngest brother John from Arizona, with his wife and three kids, including my precious goddaughter Nicole. I haven't seen her since last year in Montana.  She's one pleasure I haven't forgotten. I just hope she remembers me!

   

Slowing Down for a Second Glance

Keeping an eye out for beauty at the University of Texas yesterday, while I wandered...and finding it, of course...

 

 

 

 

Focusing

"It is the familiar that usually eludes us in life. What is before our nose is what we see last." ~William Barrett, American philosopher and professor.

Relevant words, especially for these days...celebrating fathers, remembering a friend's son, and looking ahead to when I really take Kendall to college...in only a few short weeks.

These are hectic, heartbreaking, busy days and I can't write much tonight, but I spent the day with Kendall...sorta...trying to remember not to take this time and these opportunities for granted.

She went her way with the other incoming freshman for orientation and I went mine with the other parents who were facing an emptier nest come August. I felt like an old hand at this - I skipped most of the sessions - mostly I wandered around campus (but not too far from shade and air-conditioning!) taking pictures or just sitting and watching people. I also grabbed the opportunity to visit the Harry Ransom Center, home of a Gutenberg Bible and the very first photograph. An awesome photography exhibit of the works of Fritz Henle took up most of the first floor, inspiring me to hone my limited skills with my camera.

I crossed paths with Kendall three times during the day...once, to sign for her to get her new ID...once, purely by accident in the Student Union...and last, at the barbecue held in the shadow of the Texas Memorial Stadium. That's where I left her...she'll be spending the next few days getting acquainted with her future new home, and I returned to a house empty of kids - both of us getting a taste of what's waiting just around the corner.

 

The Unimaginable, and Praying

    The minute I set eyes on my firstborn, I felt that fear...that pain of imagined loss. Until I was a mother, I didn't have an inkling of the kind of fear a parent lives with every day - the death of your child. But it is born along with your baby and you carry it with you long after that baby grows and ventures away from the safety of your arms.

   A friend's son died this morning. It was supposed to be a happy day...a Father's Day spent together, celebrating the love between this father and his son. This was a father who was devoted to his kids, who would have given his own life in a heartbeat for any of them. In the end, there was nothing he could do. And that's another curse of parenthood - that helpless feeling when you realize there are limits to what you can do for your kids; there are just some things that are out of your control.

    The heartbreak I feel for this man is just a splinter of what he's feeling, I'm sure. I've been lifting him and his family in prayer all day, and I'll continue to do so - praying for peace, for acceptance, for strength...although just as the pain they feel is unimaginable to me, so is the idea that it would be a pain that could ever heal. But I also know that with God, all things are possible. Please join me in praying for them.

"My strength and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever." Psalm 73:26

Hoodrat?

Confession...I spanked my kids. And I don't regret it. Especially after watching this...

Whew! Too Close for Comfort...Again!

    If I had my druthers, I wouldn't be in a grocery store checking out at 8:15pm. But that's the only chance I had to go this week, and we were down to slim-pickin's in the pantry. So as soon as the pork tenderloin was done and I had eaten, I grabbed my list and headed to my Cedar Park HEB.

    It wasn't until half of my loot was scanned and bagged that the lights flickered and I overheard "tornado warning" from somewhere nearby. Huh? My cashier nodded, continued scanning, and told me "a tornado had been spotted heading our way, sirens had sounded, clouds were twirling directly overhead, it was pouring down rain...oh, now it was hailing..." and sure enough, I could hear it roaring down on the roof right above me.

    Immediately, I pictured the intersection of highways 183 and 1431, just outside of HEB, the way it looked on the afternoon of May 27, 1997, after a tornado passed through. Traffic lights dangled, signs were smashed, debris littered the roads, and the Albertson's across the street from HEB was demolished. The kids and I had been to the movies, stopped by a pet store (cheap entertainment for little kids), and I planned to stop at HEB on my way home. We heard there was a tornado warning, but I wasn't very worried. I mean, it's not like we live in Kansas or anything. 

    Back on 183, the black sky dropped low, the rain started and suddenly we were in a traffic jam. "I want to see a tornado!" Tommy said, searching the sky through the window. Be careful what you wish for, right? A tornado appeared on our left, swirling through a neighborhood - we could see the debris twisting and twirling as it got sucked up into the clouds. Tommy said "cool" but I reminded him that what we were seeing were bits and pieces of people's houses and belongings. I hoped that was all, anyway.

    It seemed to angle closer and closer to us, but there was no where to go! I was stuck in traffic, just inching along - no where looked like a safe place to take cover. I still had it in my mind to stop by the grocery store - I didn't want to have to come back to town the next day! And HEB seemed a lot safer than any of the places we were passing.

    But one look at the intersection and Albertson's convinced me to head home. Wind, rain and lightning followed us the whole way - at one point the sky turned green and hail peppered us - but we made it home safely. I flipped on the television and a gigantic tornado filled the screen - it had just crossed through Jarrell, a small town just up highway 183 from Cedar Park where it's so wide open and flat it's easy to believe you're in Kansas, wiping out a good portion of the town. It just scraped some areas clear, as if the homes had never even existed.

    So last night, driving home in the wind and rain, with the light show flashing all around me, I had an eerie feeling of deja vu. But I thanked God that this time the television screen didn't fill with an image of a huge tornado and a destroyed town. It was just another wild night in Central Texas.

    I wonder if Tom will get me another "Tornado Chasin' Barb" bumper sticker?

Chapter 13...Saying Goodbye to LVHS

    

    Wasn't it just yesterday I stood in this colorful classroom serving cookies and punch and celebrating Kendall's graduation from kindergarten? She was so ready for 1st grade - for sitting at real desks, for skipping naps, for moving one chapter closer to this past Friday, when she and her classmates accepted the final diploma the Lago Vista school system has to offer.

    And just like back then, she is so ready for this new chapter - for moving into a dorm, for navigating the huge campus, for moving through another exciting chapter of her life.

    Even though I'm excited for her, and relieved we're through with these school days, I expected to choke up a little at the ceremony, watching her cross that stage looking so grownup and confident. But I surprised myself - I didn't feel even a teeny bit weepy! How could I cry when she's radiating relief, happiness, excitement, anticipation? This has been one of my goals for the past 17 years, and I've succeeded! I know there's so much more waiting for her out in the big world, and I know she's ready to take it on. That makes me feel so good.

    Now come August...and I've dropped her and her junk off in her dorm and Tom and I are heading home to a REALLY empty house...well, there might be some tears shed then, because I know I'm going to miss her. But I'm not going to think about that now - we have the whole summer together ahead of us, to prepare for that day and the next chapter. And that feels good, too.

Leaving the house for the last day of high school...recognized for graduating on the Distinguished Plan...diploma in hand...three up, three down...celebrating with cake (thanks, Mary Kay!)

 

 

 

 

Slow Harley Rides and the Perfect Prom Picture

    For the past six years these friends from high school have hit the road on Harleys (well, one Yamaha), just getting away from their regular lives, reconnecting and strengthening their friendship. I think it's great that they care enough about each other to make time for their friendship like this.

 

    This year they planned their route through the Texas Hill Country to be at our house at lunchtime today. My sweet husband grilled hamburgers and sausage, Darla, Leslie and Clive brought chips, dips, and cookies, and we feasted to friendship.

    As if that wasn't enough, Darla and I were able to scratch "ride on a Harley" off of our Bucket Lists! (No, I didn't have a helmet, so we just made a little loop through the parking lot. But it still counts, doesn't it?)

 

    While we were remembering and building on our "old" high school friendships, Kendall was working on her own to remember later. It's Prom night! It took two nights of diligent shopping, but we tracked down the Perfect dress, shoes, hairband, bracelets and clutch purse. The choker she's wearing is true vintage: my sister made it back in 1968 or so.

    The kids met at a house that looks over our hollow, making the pictures even more special, if that's possible. I must have taken 40 or 50 pictures, taking advantage of this rare opportunity of photographing Kendall. As I snapped away, images of many of these kids popped up in my head as they were in kindergarten, when I first met them. I've watched them grow over the years, snapping many pictures along the way, and here they are, a mere week away from their high school graduation.

    It's been a hectic week. I'm glad things are slowing down before the grand finale of graduation; I'm hoping to have some quiet time for reflection, and for remembering pudgy-faced kids learning their ABCs in kindergarten, listening with wide eyes as I, in my librarian role, read to them in 1st grade, and gradually growing taller and smarter into the teenagers smiling into my camera today.