Long Hollow

Moving forward, but not forgetting...

 

Lord, take me where you want me to go;
Let me meet who you want me to meet;
Tell me what you want me to say; and
Keep me out of your way.

- Fr. Mychal Judge, FDNY (died 9/11/01)

 

 

Every year in late September, early October, I head to the coast with a group of friends for some beach therapy. Our annual adventure is coming up soon, in fact. We've gone every year since 1999 - except one. 

That September of 2001 we were counting down the days until we could wave goodbye to our families, ready for some alone time.... a few days not having to do anything for anyone but ourselves.

But on the afternoon of the 11th, we changed our minds. We no longer wanted to wave goodbye to our families - we wanted to wrap them around us, so close and tight we could feel their breath and smell their familiar sweetness.  

It wasn't a decision driven by fear. We knew the odds of some terrorist targeting our little Texas Hill Country town, or the little fishing town on the Gulf where we sought some peace and quiet, were slim to none.

But as that day progressed, we were reminded not to take our loved ones or the time we have with them for granted. Not to let a day go by without making sure they knew they were our whole world. Not to forget that every morning we may be opening our eyes to our very last day on this earth.

So that autumn we soaked up our families instead of the sunshine. We stayed close to home, pondered the changes in our country and our world. We prayed for peace.

But the next year we packed our swimsuits, sunscreen, magazines, Bloody Mary mix, and vodka, and headed for the beach. We've done so ever since. We continued our lives, relished our freedom, refusing to let fear mold our lives, for that would allow the terrorists to win. 

But we haven't forgotten the lessons we learned on September 11, 2001 and the days that followed, about the things that truly matter and the steel-strength of this nation. We haven't forgotten how we overcame our differences, although some days (especially around election time) it's hard to believe. We haven't forgotten those ordinary citizens who were called to be heroes - and accepted the call.

We haven't forgotten that by going about our lives, speaking our minds and sticking up for one another, we are fighting a war - and winning.

 

 

"This day and every day. Tear us down and we WILL rebuild. Knock us down and we WILL arise. We are people of diverse faith, ideologies, and color. We may be distracted or divided by internal matters, such as politics, but we are America and we will remain." 

~Johnny "Happy" Valentine, veteran and teacher

 

(A repost from 2012)

Surprises...

 

 

“God put us here, on this carnival ride.

We close our eyes never knowing where it'll take us next.” 

~Carrie Underwood

 

There are good surprises, and there are bad surprises.

Years ago I met a woman who impressed me with her beauty and bubbly personality. I didn't know her well, and haven't seen her in years, but back then we shared a lot of laughs at monthly PTA bunco games (not as innocent as they sound!)

Today I attended her memorial service. She was barely in her 40's. Learning of her death earlier this week was a bad surprise.

I spotted many friends at the service who I haven't seen or spoken to in years...not since our kids grew up. We all agreed we need to get together, under better circumstances.

I hope we do.

 

 

 

Yesterday I drove to a small town near San Antonio to help surprise my dear friend Nancy for her 50th birthday. I liked being part of a good surprise.

 

  

Nancy was my first friend in Lago Vista, then later agreed to be my Confirmation sponsor when I finally decided to convert to Catholicism after years of attending Mass with Tom and the kids, and months of discussing it with our priest.

Within a few years she had to move away from Lago, but we've somehow held onto our friendship, despite the distance (and age difference!)

 

 

Happy birthday tomorrow, Nancy!

 

"May your September be spacious like a long, slow bloom..." 

I've been reading Jennifer Richardson's beautiful, evocative, inspirational prose and photographs on her blog Ripplespeak for a few years now, so when she announced she was giving away a copy of her monthly zine, I crossed my fingers and tossed my comment into the bag. 

What a great surprise to hear I'd won! She sent two copies - one for me and one for my mom.

 Her words are like sunshine and fresh air, and I know I'll keep her zine close by to read often. You can get your own at her Etsy shop, Ripplesongs.

 

 

Another one of my favorite writers is Wolf Pascoe, author of the blog, Just Add Father.  We met in person when he came to Austin for a blog conference a few years ago.

Wolf is actually a pseudonym. Besides being a gifted writer, he's an anesthesiologist. He wrote about it in an e-book "Breathing for Two" last year. I immediately bought it, of course, but months turned into a year while it sat unread on my computer. (Who has time to read for pleasure when they're starting a business?)

So I finally broke down and bought the audio book last week. Wolf himself read it to me while I worked out and drove around Austin. (Why didn't I do this before?)

Here's my review on Amazon...

"In "Breathing for Two", Wolf Pascoe does a wonderful job weaving his story through the dry medical stuff, making even the history of anesthesiology come alive for the reader. He compels us to care about his patients and root for him when things go wrong. And he's very honest and upfront about his mistakes. I felt I was standing right beside him in anatomy class, and then later, as he watched over his patients. He relates the lessons he has learned in his decades as an anesthesiologist in such a way that they can be applied to everyone and to all areas of life. This is a book I could read over and over again, because I feel each time I'll get something new from it. I recommend the audio version - Wolf is a wonderful reader."

In short, go buy this book!

I wasn't surprised I loved the book, but I never thought I would like audio books, so that was a great surprise. I have two other e-books written by friends getting dusty on my computer. I'm going to see if there are audio versions for those, as well!

 

A week ago, Tom and I were discussing making that decision about Max. This morning, he made it to the top of the walkway before I did, and while we didn't go on a long walk, he did prance around and play with Belle. 

I believe in miracles. They are the best surprises, aren't they?

 

"I wish you hopeful eyes, fresh wings, and a second wind in the living."

~ Jennifer Richardson

 

A Rollercoaster Ride with Max

 

 

 

Two days ago I knelt beside Max and whispered in his ear that it was okay if he just let go. I told him he had trained Belle well, and she would take awesome care of us, and if Charly was close by, asking him to come play, that it was okay. Go play with Charly.

That's how weak he was, lying there on my laundry room floor. He hadn't eaten in a couple of days again.

We thought we'd discovered the secret: vienna sausages and potted meat. In his last weak spell, we'd tried everything, trying to get him to eat, and he had gobbled these right up.

But I guess even dogs can get too many vienna sausages. He was turning his nose up at them, and everything else we offered, including real beef Ballpark weiners. 

However, the next morning, instead of huddling in the dark of his huge doghouse, he was up on the hill in the woods in front of our house, taking care of business (which is always a good sign) and he's subsequently spent the last two days lounging on the front porch, seemingly loving the warm breeze and the sound of birds gossiping at the nearby feeder. 

It was Tom who suggested giving him some of Belle's dry food. Max has been eating expensive Science Diet food targeted at joint issues all of his life, while we give Belle a cheap-in-comparison Purina dry food targeting weight issues. 

We tried it... and Max loves it. (At least, for now. I'm worried he'll get sick of it, too, and then what will we do?)

For now, we're taking it a day at a time, watching him for signs of distress. So far, there have been none. If we see them, we'll know what to do.

But I'm earnestly praying it's taken out of our hands, that when the time comes... before there's any pain or distress... this sweet old boy of ours closes his eyes and drifts off to some woods very similar to ours to go exploring with his Charly dog.

Maybe Frankie, the guinea hen, will tag along, too, like he used to. I like to think so.

 

 

Dogs' lives are too short. Their only fault, really.

~Agnes Sligh Turnbull

 

Sisters (and other sweet!s)

 

It would have been intimidating growing up with such a beautiful big sister if she had been the type to criticize or belittle.

But I was blessed with Brenda. 

 

 

Sure, she liked to tease me sometimes, and even lost her temper with me once or twice, but given that I was a brat for at least the first ten years of my life...okay, twenty... the way she treated me could qualify her for sainthood.

 

 

How many teenage girls let their baby sisters tag along on dates? (Did I mention I was a brat?) How many volunteer to go on school field trips? How many take their little sisters and her friends to the beach, or Astroworld, or on crazy fast spins through the neighborhood in their Volkwagon Bugs? (Don't tell anyone about that one!)

How many buy their family a green artificial Christmas tree and new ornaments to hang on it without being asked because their little sister ended up in the emergency room the year before with asthma triggered by a real tree?

When their parents are overwhelmed with worry and care over their recently paralyzed son, how many big sisters go overboard with gifts for their baby sister to make sure she still has a Merry Christmas?

When their nineteen-year-old sister finishes a stupidly scary book (Amityville Horror!), how many big sisters not only allow her to spend the night, but agree to sleep in the same room with her, as well, despite her husband's grumbling?

Yes, growing up with a big sister who is your best friend is one of the sweetest sweet!s ever. And since today is her birthday, I hope the coming year is jam-packed and overflowing with sweetness for her, because she has given everyone around her so much sweetness all of her life.

 

 

And here are a few more sweet!s from the past two weeks (how did I get so far behind?)...

Friday: lunch with a dear long-time friend, and then surprising your mom with a visit from her

Saturday: sleeping in, when you're exhausted; a visit with your mom and son and grandpuppy, all at the same time

Sunday: Garden of Eatin' inspiration

 

Monday: your old puppy waiting for you on the porch, stronger and eager for a morning walk; the miracle of arriving on time when you've left late and hit lots of traffic; finding just the right place for two of your clients after a long search

 

Tuesday: watching your old puppy swim again; a friend reminding you to stay positive; seeing your coach on television during her mission trip to help the children on the border; exploring east Austin with your son, including free food and drinks, courtesy of Google; learning how to be a DJ

 

Wednesday: singing along to the Cowboy and the Princess with your mom; making it to your belly-dancing class after missing two weeks; the neighbor to your lot listing helping you hammer your sign back in when some other useless being has pulled it up and tossed it onto your lot

Thursday: your old puppy's appetite returning, slowly but surely; a friend taking the time to teach your mom how to create newborn knitted caps

Friday: an offer on one of your residential listings and a call on one of your lot listings; issues with Russia calming down as your son and daughter-in-law prepare to leave for a vacation in Moscow, St. Petersburg, and Amsterdam

Saturday: negotiations; two more calls on your listings; getting together with long-time friends you've known since high school or beyond

 

Sunday: catching a young fox in your headlights; Facebook, so you can enjoy photos of your son's trip to Russia

Monday: saving a wolf spider; a closing for one of your buyers!; just the inspiration you need waiting for you in your mailbox, thanks to a dear friend

 

Tuesday: hiking around two Texas Hill Country acres with a client; Chinese food with friends and great fortune-cookie fortunes

 

Wednesday: meeting Leon at HEB who give you a free car wash because your car really needs it; finally getting the hang of some of your belly-dancing moves

 

Thursday: joining forces with other parishioners to make your church Oktoberfest a success

 

Friday: learning more about the Circuit of the Americas racetrack at a local Chamber of Commerce meeting; getting a tour of the wedding venue that happens to be your neighbor

 

 

Saturday: getting to drive your own car after two days, thanks to your husband fixing your flat tire (yes, another one!); a gorgeous sunset and then moonrise over your hollow

 

Sunday: being able to wish your sister a happy birthday, and let her know how grateful you are for her

 

 

An older sister is a friend and defender - a listener, conspirator, a counsellor and a sharer of delights.  And sorrows too. 

 ~Pam Brown

 

Old puppies, morning walks, and other sweet!s

 

Whether it's the heat or just old age catching up to him, Max has gone down a pretty steep hill lately.

Just last week we took the long walk, around the curve and down into the creekbed. But now he can't walk far before having to stop and rest. Our walks have gotten shorter and shorter. This morning we barely made it past the next property before he was ready to head back home.

I'm not sure if that's due to his congestive heart failure, or because he hasn't eaten much of anything in several days, despite our coaxing. TG even tries to feed him by hand, a trick that has always worked in the past. (He's a little spoiled.)

He's still drinking and "marking his territory", if you get my drift, so that's a good thing, but I sure wish he'd start eating again.

I'm hoping it's just the heat. We're keeping him and Belle inside all day and half the night. It hasn't made a difference in his appetite, but it obviously makes him happy, and I'm grateful for the chance to repay some of the happiness he's provided me in his short life.

It's only been about ten years since he wandered up to our house and adopted us. Sure, he's a big dog - a German Shepherd/Great Dane mix, our vet guessed - and typically they don't live long lives, and yeah, the orthopedic doctor who diagnosed his elbow dysplasia when he was 18 months old said he could be lame by the time he was 7 years old even if we fed him the right food and gave him all the supplements.

But still ... ten years just isn't enough time with that old puppy.

However, this is a sweet! post, so I'll focus on the sweet moments with him over the past week...how happy he is to see me first thing in the morning ... how eager he is to get started on our morning walks ... the joy in his eyes when Belle kisses his whole face ... the pride in his eyes when he watches her run circles around us ... the way he snuggles against me, almost knocking me down ... his "Look how cute I am" pose, with one paw looped over his nose ...

It's amazing how they fit right into places in your heart you didn't realize were empty, isn't it?

 

I talk to him when I'm lonesome like; and I'm sure he understands. When he looks at me so attentively, and gently licks my hands; then he rubs his nose on my tailored clothes, but I never say naught thereat.

For the good Lord knows I can buy more clothes, but never a friend like that.

~W. Dayton Wedgefarth

 

 

 

Here are a few other sweet!s from the past week or so...

 

Wednesday: spending hours with your mom; celebrating your baby girl's birthday with pizza and chocolate cake; laughing and reciting lines while watching "Goonies" with your son and daughter

 

 

Thursday: discovering your aloe plant survived the winter after all

Friday: your mom winning in dominoes; an evening with all of your kids, your husband, and your brother-in-law from Arizona; a message from a longtime friend; a beautiful bracelet from your goddaughter

 

 

Saturday: showing houses in the morning and again in the evening; bridal showers; your brother-in-law wanting to visit your mom; playing 3-13 with family

 

 

Sunday: when everything falls into place, despite some disappointments along the way; steady traffic at your open house; visiting a dear friend from church with your mom 

Monday: your husband noticing, and fixing, your flat tire, even though it made him hit traffic on his way to work 

Tuesday: getting to work early and accomplishing a lot before lunchtime; the flexibility to run home and let your puppies in the house on a hot day; sharing cookies and watching "Andy Griffith" with your mom

Wednesday: a morning walk with your puppies for the first time in five days; time with good friends you don't see often enough; coconut milk chocolate mint ice cream with pecans and hot fudge

Thursday: the feel of raindrops on your skin; cancelled meetings that allow you to work from home; lots of showings on your listings; social time with your colleague-friends; ping-pong, ping-pong, ping-pong (especially when you win!)

 

 

I hope you've had a week full of sweet!s (share them in the comments!) and this next week you find so many more your cup overflows!

 

Daughters (and other sweet!s)

 

 

 

They grow so fast, don't they? One minute they're crawling around on your stylish-at-the-time-rose-colored carpet, exploring and investigating... picking on their older brothers, trying to stir things up...cuddling in your arms because they're still shorter than you and easy to pick up...

...and then suddenly they're wanting to explore far beyond your carpeted floors. And while they may still be picking on their older brothers, and every once in awhile they'll snuggle their head on your shoulder, they're now several inches taller than you and impossible to pick up. 

Yes, one minute you're holding them in your arms, counting tiny toes and fingers and praising God for the miracle that is a baby girl, and then somehow in the next you're wishing them a happy 23rd birthday (but still praising God for the miracle that is a baby girl, all grown up.)

Gosh, they grow so fast. And what a sweet! it is to witness the jouney.

 

A daughter may outgrow your lap, but she will never outgrow your heart. 

 ~Author Unknown

  

Happy birthday to my baby girl, my hero these days, who does such an awesome job of taking up my slack around the house so I can focus on my real estate business. May she always believe in herself and her gifts, and see her own dreams come true.

 

 

 

Here are some other sweet!s from this past week. Despite my intentions of writing less more often, the week got totally crazy...but in a good way.  Be sure to add your sweet!s in the comments!

 

Wednesday: precious five-year-old boys who talk to you at Starbucks and tell you about their birthday parties; roadrunners

 

 

Thursday: moonlight glazing your hollow; authentic Indian food on a beautiful evening with friends and laughter after a long day; your client's offer accepted after ping-pong-ish negotiations; two new listings

Friday: helping your son's friends find a new home; watching a movie with your son when you've hardly seen him all week

 

 

Saturday: meeting the neighbor to one of your new listings and his dog, Otis; the neighbor putting the "For Sale" sign up on the lot while you visit with Otis; watching "Fiddler on the Roof" with your daughter

 

 

Sunday: a slow-paced morning; watching your old dog swim and dragonflies play tag from the bank of your pond before church; inspirational boosts from Joel Osteen and the Garden of Eatin'; Reuben sandwiches; brave friends who will spray wasp nests for you; hanging out with dear friends all afternoon

 

 

 

Monday: joining others on committees to make things better; taking time to work out on a crazy, busy day; completing things that have been weighing on you; sisters, for a million reasons

 

 

Tuesday: discovering a Deepwater/Deer Park girl in Spicewood, Texas (Debbie, DPHS Class of '71!); rain falling through sunshine; visits with your mom; potential offers on your listings

Wednesday: reflecting on all of the ages of your beautiful daughter, and giving thanks that she's yours

 

As you twirl through the coming week, I hope you find tons of sweet! moments to treasure!

 A truly happy person is one who can enjoy the scenery while on a detour.

~Author Unknown

 

Ky, my friend

 

“It was an odd friendship, but the oddnesses of friendships are a frequent guarantee of their lasting texture.”

~Ford Madox Ford

 

First thing this morning,  my heart was broken.

I was preparing to do my homework for a class, had barely started eating my cereal, when I checked my email and saw the message from my dear friend Ky's son, letting me know he passed away on Monday.

And thus began a day of tears. 

I just saw Ky in January at our second DuPont Old Farts Club reunion. Sure, his hair was all white, but otherwise, to me he hadn't aged a bit since we first met in 1982. He was energetic, all smiles, so happy to be there and reconnect with the rest of us.

 

 

I never, ever suspected that would be the last time I saw him. Maybe some of the others. But not Ky.

After all, I've actually seen him two other times since we both hung up our hardhats, at the weddings of two of his seven sons. 

 

 

 

He loved to talk about those sons and his wife on our long twelve-hour shifts. He would also tell stories about having to leave his home in China when the Communists took over, and then years later having to flee Viet Nam with his young family for the same reason. He told me he learned English from reading Reader's Digest magazines.

I loved his stories.

Ky never called me "Barbara". It was always "Barbie." And that was okay. I can hear him even now.

I don't remember how or when we became such good friends. It just happened. As odd as it seems, there was something inside each of us that transcended gender age, nationality, religion...even language.

There was something that was the same, allowing a forty-something Chinese Buddhist father of seven sons and the twenty-something Texan Baptist newlywed woman to form a friendship that would span decades.

Ky enriched my life. The tears that flowed today were in sorrow, of course, that his open and honest smile would no longer shine in this world, but they were also in gratitude for knowing him and relief that I didn't miss an opportunity to see him when it was given.

Ky knew how much our friendship meant to me, which gives me peace, and my memories bring me smiles. I guess I can't ask for more than that.

Thank you, and may you rest in peace, Ky, my dear, dear friend.

Ky's death wasn't just unexpected to me. It caught his family by surprise as well, so please keep them all in your prayers. He left an awesome legacy...as good men always do.

The first Father's Day...

 

Old as she was, she still missed her daddy sometimes.

~Gloria Naylor

 

 

For the first Father's Day in years and years, I don't have a phone call or road trip to make. Tom and I have both lost our dads, and, well, I have kind of a lost feeling today.

I'm glad I took the time the last few Father's Days to travel to Houston so I could spend the day with Daddy, and be sure he knew how grateful I am that God allowed me to be his daughter. The photo above was taken last year. In my heart I knew it was probably the last Father's Day I'd spend with him.

 

 

I didn't get to see Pop as often, but we talked a lot on the phone, especially the last year of his life. I'm sure he, too, knew how grateful I am that God allowed me to become his daughter through marriage. I didn't realize the photo above would be the last one I took of him.

 

This year I focused on Tom ... on getting a plan in place to celebrate him, so he knows how grateful I am that he's the father of my children. It was low-key, the way he wanted it. Just us, the kids, and my mom enjoying hamburgers fresh off the grill.

And all around us, the memory of two other very special fathers.

 

 

The greatest gift I ever had
Came from God; I call him Dad!
~Author Unknown

 

Happy birthday to the best mother-in-law in the world...

 

Tom and I were driving up to Maryland for the first time so I could meet his family and childhood friends before our wedding. It was my first time in Tennessee, the Carolinas and all of those other states between Texas and Maryland.

What a fabulous trip - seeing the sunrise just outside of Nashville, driving through the Smokies, the Blue Ridge, and the Shenandoah Mountains, seeing the lights of Washington D.C.

But I think it was soon after we crossed the Virginia state line that I started scavenging for food in the car - I was getting really nervous about meeting his family, and that's one thing I do when I'm nervous. Eat.

When I ran out of food, I pulled out my "practice" photo, the one of Tom and all of his eight brothers - yes, I said "eight" - taken at a recent wedding, and started testing myself on the names. Thank goodness I'd only be meeting five on this trip.

I was mostly nervous about meeting his mom. I would be the first non-Catholic daughter-in-law! We had written back and forth and she seemed to like me, but I couldn't keep those worries out of my head. 

Now I can't believe I was ever nervous. Mom welcomed me with open arms and her beautiful bright smile. She and Pop treated me like their own daughter from the very start.

Over the years, I've seen and heard tales of horrible mother-in-laws, and I realize how very lucky I am...not only did I snag the best husband ever, but he came wrapped in a package with this fabulous woman.

She raised nine boys into nine good men without losing her sense of humor, sense of self, and sense of fun.  She's the kind of mother-in-law who was quite willing to turn the care of her sons over to their wives, thank-you-very-much. There was never any kind of test to see if I was "good enough" for Tom - as long as he loved me and thought I was the right one, she did, too.

She's always been quick to help and quick with advice...when asked. I've learned by watching her and my own mother how to generously give of myself to my family and my community, but ensure I retain something for myself.

Today is Mom's birthday. Tom is with her. He's been there all week, along with Steve, the Arizona brother, alternating between painting and playing cards, depending on the rain. She raised good sons.

I wish I could have been with her, rather than just sending my happy birthday wishes over the phone... and in a slightly altered blog repost.  Maybe next year.

But the wishes are true whether given in person or over the phone, for showers of birthday blessings in the coming year.

I love you, Mom!

 

With mom and my Shallue sisters a few years ago - she made us all family.

  Dancing with son #2 at "The. Most. Beautiful. Wedding. Ever." last year.

 

 With the first seven. 

I really can't even imagine this, can you? Those two imps on the far right are the ones who have been busy painting this past week.

 

Memorial Day...memories and gratitude

 

Thanks to you...

...I slept in a little this morning, until the impatient sunlight pestered me awake.

...I walked with the dogs along a country road, safe and free.

...I'll spend time with my family, maybe play some ping-pong with my kids or watch a movie. 

Thanks to you...

...I grew up in a country where I (mostly) make my own choices.

...I live in a land where my dreams are limited only by my own lack of creativity, ambition and drive.

...my children face a future where almost anything is possible.

...I'm free to live my life because you gave your own.

 

I promise I won't forget. I promise I won't take it for granted.

I promise your sacrifice won't be wasted on me.

 

 

I wrote that post a few years ago, but it sums up my feelings so well, I wanted to share it again.

Memorial Day always triggers a little extra gratitude in me for a completely different reason, so here's another slightly-altered repost...

 

We spent that Memorial Day in 1998 with our kids and other families, swimming in a cold river, eating fresh pineapple, grilling burgers. That night we laughed and danced to Johnny Dee and the Rocket '88s.

Then a phone call early on Tuesday morning made me realize how much I had been taking for granted and how quickly life can change directions.

That Tuesday was sixteen years ago today, but at times it feels like yesterday. Tom left for work, expecting it to be like any other day, but it wasn't.  He didn't expect the other car to come into his lane, didn't expect to spend a week in the hospital or the summer trying to heal and recover instead of building our home. He didn't expect to live with pain for the next sixteen years.

But that's what happened, whether he expected it or not. And the thing is, we got through it. We built our home... not that summer, but there were other summers... and I'm grateful for that.

We've spent more days swimming in cold water with family and friends, and evenings laughing and dancing. I don't think a day goes by when Tom isn't in some degree of pain, but somehow he moves on and doesn't let it stop him from doing what he needs, or wants, to do.

It wasn't the last unexpected detour in our road we've encountered, and I'm sure there are more waiting for us. I can't say I'm grateful it happened. I'd love to tell you something positive that came from it, but honestly, I haven't been able to see that ray of light yet. Perhaps it's shining where I can't see it. I can only hope so.

But life is just too short for grudges and regrets that burn holes in your heart, for dwelling on the past or the future so long that you miss your today.

It's too short not to pursue your passion even if you only have a few seconds free each day to do it.

Too short to sit back and wait for things to happen, or for someone else to do it, or to make excuses.

Too short not to love with your whole heart, leaving no room for pride or selfishness, always trying to understand, listen, forgive, and ask forgiveness.

Too short not to take care of yourself and those you love.

Life is just too short, period, and too wonderful to take for granted.

Happy 16th anniversary of a second chance, Tom. I love you!

 

(I've spared you the most graphic images of Tom. His face was split open. You're welcome. I took notes during those long days and turned them into an essay... "In the Aftermath of a Car Crash" )

 

Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow.

~Gladys Bronwyn Stern

 

What are you grateful for?

Aim High, Act Bold, and Live Large! (Graduation Day!)

 

 

"...Life's battles don't always go

To the stronger or faster man.

But sooner or later, the man who wins

Is the man who thinks he can."

From "The Victor" by C.W. Longnecker

 

Yesterday, at long last, with "Pomp and Circumstance" playing in the background, my name was called.

I walked to the waiting dignitaries, shook hands, hugged, accepted my "diploma" and took my place with the other graduates.

It was BOLD graduation day! Whoo-hoo!!

 

These are just the graduates from my market center...only about half of the total graduates. 

I've spent every Thursday for the past seven weeks with an awesome group of people who shared a common goal of moving their real estate business to the next level. I was a proud member of the BOLD Avengers, competing against other teams in various Realtor events.

 

 

But Keller William's BOLD program ("Business Objective: Life by Design) turned out to be much more than just a real estate training class. Many of my classmates were taking BOLD for the third, fourth, or fifth time. For a few, this was their tenth time through the program, because each time it helps you to a new level of thinking and business.

It's Positive Thinking on steroids. It's learning to be responsible for the choices you make...and to make choices that direct you to the life you envision for yourself, rather than accepting the default version.

If you've read my blog for long, you know I'm a positive thinker, looking ahead instead of behind as I hit hurdles and have to put my other passions on a shelf... my books and screenplays, blogging, photography... 

You patiently tag along, offering encouragement and support. 

That's what BOLD is... a huge support system that moves you past your fears and self-doubts... only up-close and personal, with greater challenges, bigger goals, and practical tools.

So when, during the second week of the class, my mom was rushed to the hospital and ultimately had her gall bladder removed,  I still achieved my weekly goals by keeping my "attention" on my "intention". No excuses. This is my business.

It's true: You can have a life by design, or by default. It's your choice.

"Aim high, act bold, and live large."

 

 

 

And now it's on to more growth and knowledge:  I start a new weekly training on Tuesday...

Grateful for #57

This adorable, freckle-faced, blue-eyed boy turned 57 today. Can you believe it?

If you've read much of my blog, you know I never take birthdays for granted, but I'm especially grateful for each one of his we get to celebrate.

I've spent too many hours sitting in hospital waiting rooms praying for him ... come too close to losing him too many times. I know there are dozens of close calls I'm not even aware of, times I'm sure his angels kept him from falling off the roof or wrecking the backhoe, the motorcycle, the car ... 

And then there's his heart, the time bomb in his chest that he inherited from his grandpa. The grandpa who died of a heart attack at 56. The father of Tom's aunts who died from heart attacks before their 50th birthdays.

When we were in our twenties, 56 seemed so old. Not so much, anymore...

I'm grateful Tom listens to his body and doesn't hesitate in seeing a doctor when something is wrong. We wouldn't be celebrating his birthday today if he hadn't insisted more than a decade ago that the pain in his chest was more than just a pulled muscle, even though a stress test and EKG said otherwise.

Hallelujah! his wonderful cardiologist listened to him and ordered an arteriogram. She saved his life! An arterial blockage hid in the one spot a stress test couldn't find it. They popped in a stent and sent him on his way - with plenty of prescriptions and requirements for yearly blood work and check-ups, of course.

I support his efforts to take care of himself ... to eat right and exercise. I buy the things he should be eating, not ice cream or cookies. I make sure we have plenty of raw fruits and vegetables on hand.

What I wish I could do better is help him with stress. He worries, and not without reason, over finances, retirement, our kids, our cars, our land, our house.

Mostly over finances.

And that's why this post is mostly a repeat of one from a few years ago, because I didn't have time to write a new one. I'm working hard to build my real estate business ... to be so successful that Tom's able to stop worrying about finances, once and for all.  I knew he'd appreciate me using this time to get another closed transaction than write about him.

(But I couldn't just ignore this special day.)

Now, time to get back to work...

Happy 57th birthday, sweet Tom!

"If you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day so I never have to live without you."

~A. A. Milne

 

A Blog Stroll on a Rainy Night

I'm sitting here at my computer, relishing the sound of rain just outside my window, and even the occasional growl of thunder and flash of lightning.

Rain is a welcome guest when you've been in a drought as long as we have...when you begin to doubt if your pond was ever full, or if you just imagined it, along with the roar of the little waterfall below your house that seemed to echo the sound of waves on a shore. Music to the ears of this beach-loving girl.

I hope that music has returned to the Hollow by morning.

More than that, I hope this is just the first of a series of summer thunderstorms that will turn nearby rivers back into lakes, and dried-up canyons back into rivers.

And keep the wildflowers blooming...

 

 

Rain is also good for reflection, and that's a good thing right now because I was invited to participate in a little blog stroll by my best friend, Annie Lockhart, a soulful artist, writer, and photographer who has always been a source of inspiration to me ... a catalyst for my own creativity. 

It's because of Annie that I discovered the therapeutic, free-writing joy of blogging, and rediscovered my love of photography. She's also a gifted artist. You can see her beautiful work over at Annie Lockhart, soulful painting, and find out about her soulful painting workshops.

Now, let me pour a glass of wine and reflect upon these questions...

1. What am I working on?

That's actually a tough question for me. I'd like to say I'm working on my middle grade novel or my picture book or the historical fiction based on my great-great grandfather's memoir.

But the truth is, they are all gathering virtual dust inside my computer while I focus on building my real estate business and taking care of my family. I've even neglected my blog and photography lately, except for images from my morning walks that rarely get published, a few photography jobs for friends, and my weekly sweet! post.

But if life wasn't see-sawing, it would get awful boring, wouldn't it?

2. How does my work differ from others of its genre?

None of my work - my blog, my writing, my photography, and even my real estate business - conforms to any type of niche. I have no specific genre. I'm an eclectic, through and through.

3. Why do I write/create what I do? 

I have no idea. I joke that it's cheap therapy, but the truth is that the process is vital to me, like eating, sleeping, and breathing. It's something that begins as a seed inside of me, but grows and grows and grows until it has to be set free.

4. How does my writing/creating process work?

You'll probably say I'm crazy, but there's a constant voice inside my head, always narrating, experimenting with words, toying with ideas and thoughts. It can be pretty annoying. 

My stories come from "what if's", combined with a run-away imagination. I free-write my original ideas as fast as possible, trying not to edit until I've dumped them all out onto the page. Writing can be exhausting and agonizing for me, trying to hear my characters' voices and stay true to  their stories.

My photography simply comes from a desire to capture moments in time so I can remember them. I love to share the miracles of life I see around me with others, especially when seen up close and/or at different angles or light. 

With writing or photography, I could spend hours editing and tweaking and trying this or that. I'm learning to tell myself, that's enough.

 

 

I've met so many talented, creative artists and writers through blogging. I'm happy to introduce you to three of them right now. I met all three while traveling the wonderful world of Blogland, and while I haven't met any of them face-to-face, I call them all friends, just the same, and feel my life is richer for knowing them.

First...

Cyndee Starr is a mixed media artist and obsessive doodler. You can see her work at SheWhoDoodles.com or on Etsy at SheWhoDoodles.

(She turns anything into a work of art with her intricate doodles. Beautiful! I'm lucky to own one of her original doodled shirts.)

Next...

Carol Cassara is a writer, blogger and sometime college professor who lives out loud in Northern California with her crazy dog and very patient husband. She blogs daily at www.carolcassara.com

(I met Carol through a network of midlife writers. She's a gifted writer, but she earned my eternal loyalty when she sent a card to my mom, even though she's never met either one of us in person.)

And last, but certainly, not least, is Jim "Suldog" Sullivan, one of my favorite characters in Blogland. His writing can be irreverant, relevent, insulting, funny, and touching, all at the same time! Catch him at Suldog and the following....

Jim Sullivan is a freelance writer from Watertown, Massachusetts. His work has been published in Discover magazine, Funny Times, the Boston Globe and the Boston Herald, among others. His plan is to win a Pulitzer and a Nobel by 2017 and then spend the rest of his life being insufferably pompous about it.

His latest, in the Boston Herald - http://bostonherald.com/news_opinion/opinion/op_ed/2014/05/sullivan_mom_knew_what_was_best

He has a piece in this month's Discover, also, but you'll have to buy it to read it. Likewise, the upcoming issue of Funny Times will feature his stuff, but it will cost you. And rightly so. It's funny stuff.

Go read them all now, but be sure to catch their posts next Monday when they get to answer all of these questions!

Being a Mom...and sweet!s of the week

For most of this day, I sat at my kitchen table, close to all of my kids plus my mom, constantly giving thanks that I could do so.

I can't think of a better way to spend Mother's Day. I am blessed and I know it.

 

 "I got to grow up with a mother who taught me to believe in me." ~ Antonio Villaraigosa

 

There were so many things I wanted to write posts about this week. But because there were so many things, I didn't have a minute to spare, and those posts didn't get written. 

I've consolidated them a little bit here in my sweet!s. It's a great way to remember the good things that happen...and good practice for squeezing sweet! out of something that seemed totally sour at the time.

 

Tuesday: purple thistle; discovering catered food in the company break room when you're starving; touring the new high school and seeing old friends at the same time; strawberries and blackberries straight out of a friend's garden; a bag of onions to take home

 

 

Wednesday: a good morning text from a friend; cactus blossoms; a room filled with love and laughter, celebrating the 20th anniversary of your priest's ordination with friends

 

 

 

Thursday: being part of a company that completely shuts down one day a year to give back to its community by helping a nonprofit business in the area; helping to build a memorial garden in a local no-kill animal shelter (Texas Humane Heroes - so many precious animals waiting to adopted!)

Friday: getting to the other side of the mock listing presentation you've been dreading; puppy kisses; the soreness that comes from physical labor

 

 

Saturday: sleeping in, then taking a leisurely walk with your puppies; spotting a fox; clearing away the piles of paperwork that were growing in your office; joining your mom in a Mother's Day reception

 

 

Sunday: Mass with your kids and husband; a huge bacon and egg brunch, courtesy of your son; kids who are always willing to help out; spending Mother's Day with your mom and all of your kids; seeing your brother and his wife; a bouquet of yellow and purple flowers from your son and daughter-in-law

 

 

To all mothers, in all shapes and forms, I hope you had a wonderful Mother's Day weekend.

To those who couldn't be with their mothers this weekend, or with their sons or daughters, remember their love is always with you, inside and out.

 

“Being a mom has made me so tired. And so happy.” — Tina Fey 

April 27 - a very good day for Saints and Lovebirds

 

 

Somewhere in Seattle tonight, one of my favorite couples in the whole wide world are sipping champagne, gazing into each other's eyes, and thinking back to that magical evening exactly one year ago when they said "I do" under the limbs of the big oak tree at Barr Mansion.

It's hard for me to believe my son and his bride are already celebrating their first anniversary ... until I think of all that has happened in those 365 days since The. Most. Beautiful. Wedding. Ever.

If you look to the left of the preacher in the photo above, you'll see my mom in red and Daddy beside her. I'm so grateful they were able to share in the joy of that evening.

 

"Do not be afraid.
Do not be satisfied with mediocrity. 
Put out into the deep and let down your nets for a catch."

~St. John Paul II 

That is such a great quote for marriage, isn't it? Or really anything we feel called to do that requires a leap of faith.

I'm adopting it as a daily inspiration for my real estate career, where I have to overcome my natural shyness and remind myself that by helping others I'm helping my family.

Speaking of Saint Pope John Paul II....besides being my son and daughter-in-law's anniversary, today is also his canonization day, along with that of Pope John XXIII. I'm happy about that because each of them deserves some credit for my conversion to Catholicism. And I think everyone who has known me since at least my junior high days will know that my conversion might just qualify as a miracle.

Saint Pope John XXIII was responsible for Vatican II, which among other things, allowed Mass to be said in a country's native language, instead of Latin. He was Pope in 1959, when I was born, but since I was born into a Baptist family, that didn't mean a thing to me.

I really didn't pay any attention to Popes or Catholicism until 1978, when John Paul II became Pope. I was working shiftwork at a chemical plant, and one slow night, I discovered a Time magazine stashed in the boiler lab with a feature article about the new Pope. He fascinated me, and I read everything I could about him and the Catholic church.

I met Tom in 1981 and we married in the Catholic church, but I didn't officially join the church for another thirteen years. Once I did, I could see how my path to Catholicism began all those years ago on a slow night in the boiler lab.

Or maybe on the day I was born. Maybe before that. Who knows?

Whenever it was, I'm grateful to these two for the example they've given on how to live a life of faith and love.

 

 

"The future starts today, not tomorrow."

~Pope St. John Paul II

 

Surprise Blessings

Mama lies in a hospital bed beside me, still groggy from anesthesia. I listen to her breathing, every now and then glancing up from my laptop to the monitor above her bed to check her oxygen level.

For me, it started with a call yesterday morning at 4:30. Mama was having difficulty breathing and an ambulance was on its way to the nursing home to transport her to the hospital. Where did I want them to take her?

Just a few weeks ago an elderly couple from my church told me about a nearby hospital that had released the husband when the wife felt he was still very sick. Sure enough, later that evening she took him to another hospital where they found he was running a high fever and had a severe urinary tract infection.

I told them to take Mama to that second hospital.

It took several breathing treatments and steroids through an IV, but within a few hours her breathing was under control. That's when the internist examined her and discovered she had a tender spot on her right side. A few tests later, surgery was scheduled for today to say goodbye and good riddance to her gall bladder.

I never thought I'd be grateful for an asthma attack.

Please keep my mom in your thoughts and prayers as she begins the road to recovery. With 24/7 oxygen and limited mobility, she has a high risk of developing pneumonia.

Thank you!

P.S. Another blessing...she smiled at me before I left, despite the pain and lingering fog. 

 

 

 

"You're so happy," the technician told Mama as she wheeled her to pre-op. 

"Laughter is good for you," said Mama.

She's still teaching me: You can always find something to smile about.

Irish Blessings on St. Patrick's Day

 

 

Bridget Shallue was just 52, younger than I am now and already a widow, when she said goodbye to Ireland in 1852 with her grown children...chased away by the potato famine, I'm sure.

If she ever returned, it isn't mentioned in the family lore.

Accompanied by two daughters and two sons, Bridget first arrived in Quebec, traveled to New York, and finally settled in Wisconsin in 1856.

One daughter died on the passage from Ireland and was buried at sea. Two older sons chose Australia over America to begin their new life. I doubt if she ever saw them again; her goodbye to those sons was probably as final and heartbreaking as her goodbye to her home, her homeland and her husband Thomas's grave - he had died just a few years before, at age 45.

And then the added heartbreak of watching a daughter's lifeless body disappear into the ocean...heartbreak I just can't imagine.

My own Tom Shallue and I found all of this out shortly after we were married, by talking to relatives and researching in libraries. We traced his family back to Ennistyman, County Clare...to that first Tom's grave, but that was as far as we could go. There was no Internet twenty-five years ago, no Ancestry.com, and we couldn't afford a trip over to do our own research or to hire a professional to do it for us.

It hit me that I knew more about the Shallue history than my Wilson's, so the next few years I focused my genealogical fervor on that line and other branches of my family ... for example, my great-great grandfather George, memoir writer and protagonist of (one of) my book-in-progress.

But today is St. Patrick's Day and my thoughts are green...drawn toward the Shallue family and Ireland. Tom and I dream of traveling there one day, visiting the places that are only names on a map to us right now.

The photo above isn't the final resting place of a direct descendant - it was taken by an aunt or cousin on a visit to Ireland several years ago - but it's no doubt a relative because every Shallue is related. There just aren't that many!

Even these very names...James, Margaret and Denis Shallue...are echoed on tombstones across the ocean in America.

The Australian Shallues were always a mystery to the American branch. Rumor had it those brothers got on the wrong boat...they went to Australia totally by accident!

The funny thing is, the American and Australian Shallues have connected on Facebook, of all places, but I still haven't gotten any clear answers about how they ended up there.

I have no big celebrations planned today, unfortunately. If you do, have fun and be safe!

Here's wishing all of you a happy St. Patrick's Day!

 

May you always walk in sunshine.
May you never want for more.
May Irish angels rest their wings right beside your door.

 

 

 

 

 

If this sounds familiar, thank you for being a longtime reader! It is an old post, just updated a little.

Signs of Spring...and other sweet!s

Cedar Waxwings have returned to the Hollow! A huge flock of them graced the tall leafless willows near the pond most of the morning, just kind of hanging out. I ventured as near as I dared and snapped about a thousand photos with my zoom. 

I'm not sure if any of the pics will do them justice - it was a gray morning and I was still pretty far away, because I didn't want to spook them. But it doesn't matter. It was enough to just stand there and exist with them for a little while.

If any are worth sharing, I'll post them later over at Confessions. In the meantime, here are a few definite signs that Spring is moving back in..

I spotted this odd couple Saturday morning...a Cedar Waxwing and a Robin.

 

Rosemary is blooming in front of one of my listings. Bees were going crazy!

 

And here are a few other sweet!s from the past week...

Monday: getting to watch a portion of your company conference in Phoenix from the comfort of your Austin office with friends, while sipping on a cocktail and snacking; coupons for free Chik-Fil-A sandwiches; dining outside on a balmy Austin evening with your daughter

 

Tuesday: property tours; gorgeous Lake Travis scenery; a call from a neighbor you didn't know before, thanks to the neighborhood group you formed; a new haircut and re-blonding

 

 

Wednesday: your son's help in getting a copy of your mom's birth certificate easier and faster than it was going to be; your errant puppies heading home with just a single "Go home now!" command given through your car window

 

 

Thursday: the Flight Path coffee shop; a Turkey Reuben eaten outside at Avenue B Grocery; your adventuresome puppies (apparently) staying home without their shock collars; learning how to add emoticons to your text messages

Friday: classes with free lunches; a referral by a friend; picking up a lead at the grocery store; warm brownies, thanks to your daughter 

Saturday:  Robins and Cedar Waxwings returning to your hollow; meeting with potential buyer clients; watching and critiquing movies with your kids

 

 

Sunday: inspiration on an A-frame sign; Quiche Lorraine; encouragement for your writing; a visit with your mom, son, and daughter-in-law, all at the same time; writing critique group meetings; quesadillas for dinner, courtesy of your daughter

Monday: taking time to just watch a flock of Cedar Waxwings; a glimpse of bright yellow bird in the bushes; your mom just suffering a couple of bruises from a fall; taking 10 minutes from an over-busy day to play your neglected drums

I wish I could send our warm weather, bees, and blossoms up to those of you in the north still stuck in signs of winter! I hope you still find plenty of sweet!s in each day.

 

"Adopt the pace of nature:  her secret is patience."  

~Ralph Waldo Emerson

"Patience and perseverance have a magical effect before which difficulties disappear and obstacles vanish."  

~John Quincy Adams

Number 1: Laughing Hard Times into Wine

 

 

 

 

1. This is my new favorite quote:

“The woman had laughed the hard times into wine.”
-Ann Voskamp 

I'm not sure if it's possible to laugh hard times into wine, except theoretically, of course... but I love the imagery of it. Thanks to Jennifer at Ripplespeak for posting it. (And for all of her own beautiful words full of imagery and inspiration!)

 

 

 

2. I've had to spend a lot of time dealing with the Social Security Administration and other agencies lately, trying to get things straightened out for my mom. It can be pretty frustrating and confusing.

So when I was having trouble getting my mom's birth certificate last week at the Bureau of Vital Statistics, my son Daniel moved up to total Rock Star status with me when he provided the information and advice via text that I needed to help the Bureau employees figure out what to do in only one trip!

I forgave him any headaches he gave me when he was little.

 

 

3. Have you heard of Sundown Syndrome? I hadn't until my mom started showing signs of it. Sigh.

 

 

4. I just created a Nextdoor.com group for my neighborhood. It's kind of like Neighborhood Watch, only online.

"Nextdoor is the private social network for you, your neighbors and your community. It's the easiest way for you and your neighbors to talk online and make all of your lives better in the real world. And it's free." (from the website)

I heard about it in a real estate class and thought it would be perfect for my little area where walking next-door is a bit of a hike and the potential for wildfires is very, very real.

 

 

(photo from the Duluth Animal Hospital Facebook Page)

5.And last but not least, just in case I'm NOT the last person in the world to meet this adorable couple, I'm introducing you to Roo and Penny, best buddies who were both adopted by Alicia Williams of the Duluth Animal Hospital. Daniel introduced them to me. 

I have fallen totally head over heels, wanting to reach in and cuddle both of them, in love with them! 

If you're like me and can't get enough of their cuteness, go HERE to learn more about their stories.

God bless Alicia for saving them.

 

 

Joining with Nancy's...

 

Better Late Than Never! (and other sweet!s)

I'm sure we passed each other in the hallways of our junior high and high school. We might have even shared a class or two. Perhaps we even spoke once or twice.

But if we did, I don't remember.

So even though her face and name were familiar, I truly didn't know Debbie until Facebook revealed that she, too, lived in the Austin area and I invited her to a Shake Russell concert.

My first memory of speaking to her was at that concert in the Saxon Pub about five years ago. That's when I realized what a sweetheart she is...quiet, smart, and strong.

Since then we've shared many evenings dancing and listening to live music. She's always one of the first to give me encouragement and support, or offer prayers and a shoulder to cry on, even as she went through some heartbreaking times of her own. 

I could waste time lamenting all those years of my youth when I didn't make an effort to know her, but instead, I'll be grateful to Facebook for eventually bringing us together so that I could help this wonderful woman through tough times and celebrations...

...such as the one for her birthday this afternoon with other friends who walked those halls with us so many years ago.

Happy birthday, Debbie! I'm so very grateful for you and your friendship. Better late than never!

 

 

Monday: getting an issue resolved at the Social Security Administration even if you have to wait three hours to do it; meeting people in waiting rooms; a real estate referral on Facebook by someone you've watched grow up; seeing your mom twice in one day; dinner and dessert, courtesy of your son and daughter

Tuesday: puppy kisses; touring properties with friend-colleagues; fajitas and margaritas; the happiness in your mom's eyes at the sight of you

Wednesday: the return of birds to your hollow; time for a quick visit with your mom before heading to a meeting; grilled chicken, courtesy of your son

Thursday: Realtors who share their knowledge with associates and their lasagna with hungry colleagues; making new friends every day

Friday: a call from your mother-in-law; a day at home with your family; watching funny movies with your kids; heating your whole house with just your wood-burning stove, thanks to your husband's awesome design; the God made a Realtor video

 

 

Saturday: blue skies and balmy breezes after too many days of gray skies and freezing temperatures; French toast, courtesy of your husband; your mom feeling better after being hit with a stomach virus; two walks in one day with your puppies

Sunday: the morning sun kissing your Hollow and shining through the stained glass in your church; Mass with your husband; new church directories; the anticipation of helping a dear friend celebrate her birthday

 

Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive. 

~Anäis Nin

Simple Sweets

 

Steve and Lisa, a couple in my church, took it upon themselves to form what they call a "hospitality" ministry several months ago. Almost every Sunday they prepare and offer some special brunch item after each Mass. Just the two of them.

 

Today it was French toast. Yum!

They also offer fruit in waffle cones, muffins, chocolate-covered strawberries...with culinary presentation the best restaurants would envy. And they do it all through donations or personal funds. The church only paid for upgrades to the kitchen area.

Lisa has turned our once-drab Parish Activity Center into a delightful bistro, with cute wine bottle centerpieces on the table and whimsical artwork on the walls. Thanks to her and Steve, parishioners now linger over coffee, getting to know one another better, instead of rushing home after Mass.

But one of the things I love best about their ministry is the sign above, where Lisa writes a different inspirational, encouraging, motivational message each week. You don't see it until you're leaving the PAC.

A sweet! to send us back off into the world, well-fed and inspired.

A funny thing about this particular message... Before seeing it this morning, I had just thanked another parishioner who I don't know very well for sending a card years ago when Tom was in his serious head-on accident. That little gesture meant so much at the time, and still occupies a large part of my heart, reminding me how important those little things can be to others.

Here are some other sweet!s from the past week...

  

Monday: friendly, helpful people in the Social Security Administration office; having an iPhone so you can catch up on email when you have a two-hour wait

Tuesday: being able to work from home on icy mornings; finishing a project you've been working on for weeks; restoring email to your iPhone without having to visit the Apple store; earning $300 worth of free jewelry just by hosting a catalog party

Wednesday: a cardinal's morning serenade; your son visiting you at work so you can show him off to your colleagues; a glorious sunset after days of gray skies

 

 

Thursday: resolving your mom's banking issues; touring vintage homes; a happy hour at your office; Deep Eddy's Cranberry Vodka

Friday: Yellow Cab vans with wheelchair seating; news that your mom's knee doesn't need surgery, only time to heal; dancing for hours with friends to Disco Inferno (and other great dance songs) 

Saturday: sleeping in; enough free time for a leisurely walk with your puppies; peanut butter-chocolate chip muffins, courtesy of your son; your new jewelry waiting in your mailbox; getting to visit with your mom and oldest son at the same time

Sunday: the Garden of Eatin'...food, friends, and inspiration; warm brownies; helping a friend by posting a link to her Etsy shop, where her beautiful driftwood crosses are for sale

 

 (this is the one she gave me for Christmas)

 

The best way to cheer yourself up is to try to cheer somebody else up. 

~Mark Twain

 

P.S. Philip Seymour Hoffman,  thank you for sharing your talent with us.
I'm sorry we couldn't help you with your problems.
May you find peace now.

 

 

Frances Nail

 

Today I went to a friend's Facebook page to wish her a happy 90th birthday, and that's how I found out author/artist Frances Nail passed away, sometime before Christmas.

So she probably didn't see the note I scrawled on my Christmas card to her..."I hope to see you in the coming year!" If she did, she probably just laughed, way too familiar with my good intentions.

Once upon a time in Houston, a special magazine came with the Sunday Chronicle. It was just named "Texas", and included a column called "State Lines" where each week you could read stories about Texas (of course!) - personal essays written by a different writer each week, as wide and varied as the state.

I read them voraciously.

"State Lines" was my first paid publishing gig, way back in 1991, with "A View from a Catwalk". I went on to publish two more essays in "Texas" before the Chronicle stopped publishing the magazine. 

Soon after "Catwalk" was published, I read an essay by Frances about things she had lost, which included the words to one of my favorite poems from childhood - "Little Boy Blue", by Eugene Field. She could only remember a few lines. 

Immediately I typed out the poem and sent it to editor Ken Hammond, asking him to forward it to Frances. Within a few weeks, I received a letter from her, thanking me for the poem. And thus began our friendship. 

By that time several more of her essays had been published in "State Lines"...

...so many that I couldn't help feeling discouraged, comparing my words and stories to hers. Mine seemed flat and lifeless, hers rich and vibrant, but she was always full of support and encouragement for my writing. After all, she pointed out, she didn't even start writing until she was seventy.

(I admit, that's more consoling to me now that I'm in my fifties and still struggling on my writing path, than when I was in my thirties and had it all figured out.)

When we moved to Austin, she invited us to the publishing party for her first book, a collection of essays, of course, named "Crow in the House, Wolf at the Door". It was held in a fabulous old Victorian home downtown.

TG was barely 4, Daniel around 6, and Tommy no more than 9, but when Frances read from her book out on the screened-in porch, with her distinctive soft, soothing, Texas accent, they sat still and listened. She was that good. Austinites enjoyed listening to her read her stories on pubic radio station KUT for years.

I wish I could say we grew closer once I moved to Austin, but we didn't. We kept in touch with occasional Christmas cards and phone calls, and in 2005 she invited me to a play based on one of her books, "I'm Not the Woman I Was".

But we lived on opposite sides of Lake Travis...I was busy with my three kids and building our home and broke. 

I didn't go see the play, just as I didn't take her up on an invitation for lunch when we first moved here, or follow through with any other good intentions I had to see her, except attending the Texas Book Fair panel she was on years ago, along with authors Leon Hale and Liz Carpenter, two of her good friends.

I really wasn't half the friend she was to me.

Frances was truly a remarkable woman. I have wasted many opportunities in my life, but I think one of the biggest is not taking advantage of the chance I was given to know her better.

I still have her words and her stories, though, and thanks to Jim Swift, I can still hear her voice...

 

 

Godspeed, and thank you for leaving a part of yourself with us, Frances!

I know the angels are enjoying your stories as much as we always have.

I look forward to seeing you again... and I mean it.

 

 

 

A Cousin, a Mom, and Mexican Food. Sweet Sunday!

 

 

Tomorrow is my cousin Patricia's birthday.

She's always held a special place in my heart, beginning when she was a teenager. Unlike some of my other teenage cousins, she was consistently nice to me when we went to visit, even though I was a brat.

I haven't forgotten.

Her dad was one of my favorite uncles, too...a self-taught artist and musician who made me laugh and triggered my interest in antiques and family history.

However, even though Pat doesn't live far from me, we've only gotten together a few times over the past twenty years, for an occasional lunch or hike through a cemetery. (We're both into genealogy.)

But soon after Daddy died, she made a one-day trip to Houston, just to see Mama. Then she sent Mama a care package around Thanksgiving, full of cookies, snacks, and I don't know what else. And as soon as I brought Mama up to Austin, Pat was there...bearing gifts, of course. 

Love is, above all else, the gift of oneself.
~Jean Anouilh

So this afternoon, Mama and I took Pat out to dinner. It's just a drop in the bucket of repayment, and pales in comparison to her thoughtfulness (especially since she brought another basket full of goodies for Mama) but I hope it helps her understand how much we love and appreciate her.

She's a sweet! all by herself, for sure!

 

"I don't care how poor a man is; if he has family, he's rich."  

~Dan Wilcox and Thad Mumford

 

 

Here are a few others from the past week...

Monday: finally having your camera when you spot ducks on a pond; learning the tricks of real estate photography

 

 

Tuesday: time to walk with your puppies and pray before getting caught up in the busy-ness of your day; a friend saving you a seat at a meeting when you're running late; sponsored lunches; interest in a beautiful house you just posted on MLS

Wednesday: your first closing; a hug from your sister who travelled up to see your mom; finally getting all of your Christmas decorations boxed up; taking time to watch a gorgeous full moon rise from behind the hills

 

 

Thursday: safely spotting - and photographing - a gorgeous coyote; saving ducks from getting eaten by a coyote; obedient puppies

 

 

Friday: getting a lead while on phone duty; making progress on some to-do's; a movie with your son

Saturday: catching the end of a Shirley Temple movie and traveling to Wales with Rick Steves while eating breakfast, checking email, and sipping your morning coffee;  your tall son helping you hang portraits in your mom's room

Sunday: helping your cousin celebrate her birthday with your mom; Green Chili Tortilla Soup and spicy salsa that opens your sinuses when you're suffering from cedar fever; a quick phone visit with your eldest; selling one of your many "For Sale"s

 

What were some sweet! moments from your past week? I hope you've been paying attention!

Oops! I almost forgot one of the sweetest moments of the week. (My days blend together so much lately. That's one reason it's important for me to sit down here and count my sweet's! at the end of the week.)

Anyway, on Wednesday my sister and her husband took an overnight road trip to Austin so she could spend time with Mama. I didn't get much time with her, but enough for a sister-hug and a quick visit. 

Very, very sweet!

 

 

 

 

Five Things

 

 

1. Last year I took my kids to see The Hobbit  right before Christmas. We loved it so much, we decided to make it a Christmas tradition by seeing Part 2, "The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug", last night. 

Our consensus? It sucked...and I don't use that word often or lightly. I was so disappointed. I'll wait to see Part 3 on Netflix. Or I'll just skip it and read the book again.

On the up side, I spent an evening with my kids and got my movie popcorn fix!

 

2. Someone plugged my name and number into a zillion auto insurance online quote searches. We've been inundated with phone calls today.

Who would hate me that much?

 

3. I love that Pope Frances tweets, photo bombs, and was a bar bouncer once upon a time. Besides all the other stuff there is to love about him, of course.

 

4. Five of my high school classmates passed away in 2013. One would be too many, but five? We're only 54, for goodness sake. We've pinky-sworn to be careful and take care of ourselves and do all within our power to keep the number zero in 2014. 

 

5. Last week I wore two jackets, a hat, and gloves on my morning walks. Today I was in shorts and a tank top.

Crazy Texas weather.

 

 Joining Nancy at A Rural Journal

 

Twenty-Eight, and Wishes Come True

"May your coming year overflow with love and blessings and wishes come true!"

Last year I wrote that in my oldest child's birthday post, in honor of his 27th birthday. A few months later he married the love of his life, honeymooned in Italy, and bought a home in a city he loves. My wish for him came true.

 

Now I've blinked and he's somehow a year older, as of yesterday, around noon. He celebrated first thing in the morning by running 10 miles from his home to the state capitol building and back, stopping at the State Library long enough to say hi to his little brother, who works there.

Considering his struggle with asthma when he was younger - all those hours I spent giving him nebulizer treatments, waiting in doctors' offices, keeping up with medications - his ability to run long distances (his second marathon is coming up) is definitely a wish come true for me.

I'm not sure how he's going to top the highs of the past year, but my wish for him is the same, for overflowing love and blessings and wishes come true, because he deserves them. 

I would say that even if he wasn't my son. His thoughtfulness and compassion for friends and family - especially my parents over the past year - inspire me to be a better person. What more could a mother ask for?

I didn't get to see him yesterday, but that's okay. I saw him on Thanksgiving and on the weekend when we both visited my mom and I know I'll see him again soon, because for the first time in ten years, he lives in my city. 

Just another one of my wishes come true, although it doesn't top the one that came true the day he was born, making me a mother, the toughest and best job I've ever had.

So, Tommy, sweet son, may your coming year overflow with love and blessings and wishes come true! 

Love, 

Mom

Raindrops are falling on my head...

 

 

 

 

 

 

...and I'm glad of it! We've needed the rain! Ponds are filling up and I'm already envisioning the fields of wildflowers we'll have in the spring.

The rain brought other gifts, too. I've been trying to capture a tiny reflection in a raindrop for a long, long, long time. This week I finally did it! Can you see it up there? 

Here are a few more sweet!s from the past week...

 

Monday: a friend who will change her plans to go check on your mom for you; a growing collection of clients and potential clients; the full moon rising over the horizon; friends' prayers for your mom

Tuesday: your mom NOT having pneumonia; attending an event downtown with your son...and bumping into a friend there 

Wednesday: publishing your first listing on MLS...and friends helping to get the word out about it; the Knights of Columbus Silver Rose visiting your church

 

 

Thursday: working in your church for a week so the secretary can take a vacation; good news on a parishioner's surgery; Giving Trees; church volunteers

Friday: the first fire in your wood-burning stove; spicy chili; having a double-oven when one decides to break; sharing popcorn and silly movies with your kids

Saturday: a morning walk with no mosquitoes buzzing in your face; not having to leave the Hollow on a cold, wet day; referrals from friends

Sunday: raindrops falling on the surface of a pond that was recently a dry field covered in snow-on-the-prairies flowers; meeting long-distance clients in person for the first time and welcoming them to Austin; making it to your writing group meeting for the first time in weeks

Monday: ordering your Christmas cards in time to mail them before Christmas for the first time in a few years; colleagues who are willing to share what they've learned; homemade chicken soup on a cold night; submitting paperwork so you can get paid; your husband figuring out what's wrong with your oven and fixing it, without having to buy a single part, so you're ready for Thanksgiving...

 

What were some of your sweet! moments from the past week? Please share! And have a blessed Thanksgiving week!!

 

“As we express our gratitude, we must never forget that the highest appreciation is not to utter words, but to live by them. 

~John Fitzgerald Kennedy

 

 

Lesson #82 (Thank you, and Happy Birthday, Mama!)

Today is my beautiful Mama's birthday. Soon I'll be on my way to Houston to celebrate another year of having her in my life.

I hope the coming year will be full of laughter and happiness for her. She's been through so many changes this past year, the toughest being having to say goodbye to the love of her life, my Daddy, and I hope she gets a little break.

It hasn't been an easy goodbye or transition to life without him. Some days are easier than others. Even though there were many times in my life when I thought their marriage was over, their love for each other pulled them through. It was a fierce love, stronger than any differences between them.

I see that strength in all my mom does. Over the past few weeks since we lost Daddy, I've witnessed more laughter than tears, and a steely determination to continue on, even if she doesn't quite see the point. She trusts that God has his reasons, and more importantly, that He will give her whatever strength she needs for the road ahead.

I believe that's called Faith, and it's Lesson #82 on this list I began compiling several years ago in honor of her 77th birthday. It's easy to add to it every year with a mother like mine, and I'm so grateful it continues to grow. 

 

The mother's heart is the child's school-room. 

~Henry Ward Beecher

 

(With some of her kids, grandkids...and Daddy...on Mother's Day)

Happy birthday, Mama, with much love and gratitude!

 

Things Mama has taught me...

1. it's never too late to learn something new
2. if you have a choice between laughter and tears, choose laughter.
3. don't let anyone mess with your babies!
4. only give advice when asked for it (I'm still working on that one)
5. pray every day
6. pray some more
7. reading a good book might not solve your problems, but it's a nice escape from them
8. bend but never break
9. some people are just takers
10. be nice whenever possible, but sometimes nice doesn't cut it
11. take care of family
12. we're all individuals - let your kids blossom into themselves, not "mini-me's"
13. be there
14. Johnny Weismuller is the best movie Tarzan
15. don't be in a rush to be older than you are - you're only going to be this age once in your life
16. if you like something, and you'll use it, and you can afford it, then buy it, or you'll regret it later
17. quality over quantity
18. never think "can't"
19. people will stand in line for a dead skunk if it's free
20. roll with the punches
21. have fun
22. laugh often
23. believe in yourself
24. don't let others change who you are
25. be honest
26. don't steal
27. forgive yourself
28. God loves me
29. don't judge
30. just do it!
31. inside matters more than outside
32. don't use God's name in vain
33. you can learn anything if you put your mind to it
34. you're never too old to dance
35. it's okay to ask for help
36. show appreciation and express gratitude
37. use my manners
38. consider the source
39. an office or position of authority should be respected, but the individual in that position has to earn your respect
40. sleep is good
41. take advantage of opportunities
42. keep your eyes open and your wits about you
43. people aren't always nice
44. things can't make you happy
45. use your imagination
46. just get started and the rest will be easy
47. don't be intimidated by anyone - we're all the same, all human, we all have strengths and weaknesses
48. you can love someone even if you don't like them
49. forgive but don't forget
50. learn from others' mistakes
51. there are times for being patient, and time for putting your foot down
52. speak up
53. stand up for what you believe in
54. admit your mistakes and expect others to do the same
55. persistance pays off
56. let your kids be kids
57. love unconditionally
58. take lots of pictures
59. kids grow up fast
60. your kids need a mother, not another friend
61. pets are family
62. help others
63. a sense of humor is essential for sanity and survival
64. if you look close enough, you can find something to love about everyone
65. coffee is good anytime
66. messes can be cleaned up
67. prayer works
68. God is strong all the time - let him carry you
69. if you say you're going to do something, do it
70. be nice to yourself in case no one else is
71. you have to show respect to get respect
72. girls are tough
73. don't put up with temper tantrums
74. listen to your body - doctors don't know everything
75. don't say everything you're thinking
76. asking questions is the best way to learn something
77. your babies are always your babies (and their babies are your babies, too!)
78. God is. 
79. Just listen. 
80. people are more important than things
    
81. there is a time to help others, and a time to let others help you
82. God has his reasons, and He will give you whatever strength you need for the road ahead...and never leave you to walk it alone.

 

 

Today is Veterans Day...

"Lord, if your people need me, I will not refuse the work. Your will be done."

~St. Martin of Tours

 

 

My big brother Buster was headed to Viet Nam, saying his goodbyes, when I stood beside him in this photograph and smiled. I had no idea what was ahead of him. This was probably taken before his first tour of duty and so he had only a vague idea himself what to expect.

When he volunteered for his second tour, however, he knew full well what he was stepping into...but he did it anyway. 

 

 

My dad was in high school when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. He joined the Navy soon after high school graduation because his country was at war and "it was the thing to do." In the next twenty-two months he traveled a long way from Texas aboard the U.S.S. Geneva...to places like the Philippines, the Marshall Islands, China, Burma, Japan.

Before he turned twenty, he had seen cities that had been destroyed by war and piles of dead bodies waiting to be buried. 

A few years later, his little brother Bobby followed his lead and joined the Navy, and many years later, so did my brother Donnie and two nephews.

 

Pop, my wonderful father-in-law, missed out on World War II, but joined the Air Force in time for the Korean War. He worked base supply in Okinawa, supporting bombers flying missions to Korea...about 100 aircraft every day.

He re-enlisted, got married, and hopped around the globe...living in England, Germany, and over a year in Pakistan, separated from his family (the other heroes - Mom had 8 teenage and younger boys to deal with by herself!)...visiting a dozen other countries...eventually staying put for awhile in Maryland, working with NSA (and a second job at the bowling alley to make ends meet), until his retirement.

A lifetime of service and sacrifice for this country.

 

 

My husband Tom was raised in a military family. For him it was normal to move every few years to someplace completely different...by the time he was eight or nine years old, he had lived in three countries!

He grew up on a tight budget - hand-me-downs, powdered milk and only two cookies a day...period! And yet as soon as he could, he joined the service...the Coast Guard. Among other things, he helped rescue fisherman off the coast of Alaska.

Four of his brothers also joined the service (three career Air Force, just like their dad, and another Coast Guard) and the youngest joined the Army Reserves. Now the next generation is following in their footsteps: two Air Force and one Coast Guard...and even marrying other service members!

I think it's very fitting that Veterans Day shares November with Thanksgiving, a day when we slow down to remember and be grateful for things that we usually take for granted, because veterans, despite the sacrifices they make for all of us, probably don't even make it onto our Thanksgiving thank-you list.

That's how much most of us take them for granted - as well as the freedoms they protect for us. Even when our country isn't at war, they go where they are needed to unfamiliar places, away from extended family, often living on a minimum salary. To many, they are a symbol of war, not peace, and sadly become targets of derision, scorn, blame... and even violence, like the sad incident at Ft. Hood a few years ago.

They deserve to be thanked every day of the year. A friend of mine says that when he's in a restaurant and sees a man or woman in uniform, he secretly pays their bill. What a wonderful idea! I think more of us should go out of our way every day to show our appreciation, but I'm glad there is at least one special day where we shine a spotlight on them, remember their sacrifices and make clear our gratitude.

Thank you Daddy, Tom, Pop, Buster, Donnie, Uncle Bobby, Uncle Howard, Kenny, Steve, Joe, Robbie, John, Sheila, Michael, Tom, Lynn, Robbin, Evan...and all of the other Veterans, past and present, out there! Because of you, we're free to go about our daily lives, without a thought in the world to how much that freedom costs or how much you've given.

But let's hope we do remember the price, as well as those who, through their actions, say "Don't worry. I got this."

(If this sounds familiar, it's a re-post from last year and the year before and the year before, with just a few tweeks. With the passing of Daddy and his brother, Bobby, this past year, and Pop last year, this day feels especially poignant.)

Dodging Rain and Traffic Jams...and other sweet!s of the week

I made another overnight trip to the Houston area this weekend to visit my mom. Because of the weather forecast, I expected to be driving in rain coming and going.

And dreaded it something fierce!

So what a sweet! surprise to have sunshine to and from Houston, with the predicted rain passing through early this morning while I snuggled in bed.

Unfortunately, a section of the interstate we needed to travel was completely shut down for maintenance. Not so sweet!, but my son Daniel acted as navigator, directing me onto side roads where we avoided the worst of the traffic jams using the mapquest app. Absolutely sweet! 

But while we were at Mama's, Daniel spotted a baby gecko whose hind legs had gotten tangled in a spider web. Daniel rescued him and untangled his legs the best he could using some tiny scissors. He let him go in the front yard, hoping the little guy wouldn't get into any more trouble.

Witnessing the care and compassion that resides in my son's heart...the sweet!-est of all.

"The best portion of a good man's life:

 his little, nameless unremembered

 acts of kindness and love.”

 ~ William Wordsworth

 

Here are some other sweet!s from the past week....

Monday: new leads and listing appointments; a soul-cleansing night wind, starry sky, and bright clouds

Tuesday: being qualified for phone duty; Rudy's barbecue; touring homes with friends 

Wednesday: meeting the "Williams" of "Keller Williams";  grocery shopping with your daughter

Thursday: a day spent working from home, playing catchup; your first listing appointment

Friday: the golden morning light of autumn; being present in the moment; a new haircut; helping a friend celebrate the last day of her 20's; catching up with friends over Mexican martinis

Saturday: sunshine when you expected rain on a roadtrip; a quick visit with your grandpuppy, son and daughter-in-law; your other son riding shotgun, acting as navigator around traffic jams; a mother's hug and kiss, and the joy in her eyes when she sees you; your son's gentleness and care with your mother...and a baby gecko; staying up late, laughing with your mom at "Big Bang Theory"

Sunday: waking to the sound of rain; a too-quick visit with your nephew; driving into a beautiful sunset, instead of driving on a wet highway; home

 

I hope you are able to dodge things you are dreading in this coming week. Don't forget to share some of your sweet!s (or the link to a blogpost about them) in the comments!

Sunshine in My House

"A good laugh is sunshine in a house."

~William Makepeace Thackeray

 

We were already running late to church this morning when we spotted him, a little dirty-white fluff of a dog at the top of our dirt road near the highway.

I knew before he asked that Daniel would want to get out and check on him, so I bit my tongue about being late and gave thanks that my middle child, who turned 25 today, is such a caring, thoughtful, compassionate human being.

I've been lucky to spend a lot of time with him this past year, hanging out watching movies here at home, and hitting the road to visit my parents, where I watched him and his brother shave my daddy's grizzled face and clean his dentures and hold my mama's hand. 

This has been a tough year in many ways, and having Daniel here at the house these past few months has lightened my heart. Besides always being eager to help with dog-care, laundry, cooking, or whatever we need, he makes me laugh, listens to my rants, offers encouragement and support, gives wise advice and a shoulder to cry on.

He hasn't just become an adult...he's now a friend. His birthday is one of the best gifts I've ever received.

I could go on and on and on about his awesomeness, but I've written about it before more eloquently than I can today (here and here and here and here and here and here) and right now I need to go finish cleaning up the kitchen.

In honor of his birthday, I made some of his favorite foods: Cyclops Cookies and Jim's Chicken Tenders (from a recipe given to us by our friend Jim, of course.)

Consequently, every surface in my kitchen is covered in grease and flour. Daniel's totally worth it, though. 

Oh, by the way, the puppy was excited to see Daniel at first, but then got scared and ran to the house closest to the road. We're hoping that's where he lives. We went on to church (really, really late!) and then kept our eyes open as we drove back home afterward.

No sign of the little guy. I hope he's okay and we scared him from straying close to the highway again.

My prayer today is that today is the beginning of a wonderful year for you, Daniel...that all of your thoughtfulness is returned to you times ten.  May you have clear paths and bright skies, and no matter what this year brings, I hope you continue to 

 "Be silly. Be honest. Be kind."  

~Ralph Waldo Emerson

 

P.S. Happy birthday wishes to my sweet sister-in-law Kim, my young cousins Ashley, Kayce and Kayce's daughter, Tayvie, and my inspirational South African friend Pete! 

 

 

Bittersweet

 

 

 

I spotted it when I stepped out onto the front porch one morning this past week, in between trips to Houston. I noticed the fossil first, thinking it had fallen from its spot on the windowsill above the bench where it now rested.

Then I realized it had been placed there to hold down a handwritten note.

"...I wanted to drop you a note and let you know you and your family are in my prayers..." 

It was from my longtime friend George. He has been making multiple trips from Houston to San Angelo to see his mother-in-law, who they discovered had lung cancer earlier this summer, and tries to vary it by taking different routes.

He left the note on Sunday. On Monday, a few hours after I found the note, his mother-in-law passed away. On Tuesday, while I said my last goodbye to my Daddy, he was on his way to San Angelo again, to help his wife say goodbye to her mother.

Considering my house is a mile down a dirt road, off of a small highway that twists and turns and isn't a shortcut between San Angelo and Houston by any means, it's a huge honor that he took the time to go that way to ease my pain over losing my dad, especially when he knew I wasn't home.

A few years ago in a post about friendship, I spoke of it as a garden that needs to be watered. Ever since then, we've referred to our infrequent emails as 'watering the garden'. 

So on the back of the note he sketched a flower and added these words: "You are a daisy in my garden...May God continue to shine through you and give you Peace...Can you feel the water?"

All those years ago, when we worked on the high school yearbook together and planned to go sky-diving, we never imagined that one day our friendship would include these days of mourning each other's losses. And I'm glad we didn't.

However, I am so very grateful we're still friends, flowers in each other's gardens.

(Please keep George, his wife, and their family in your prayers!)

A good friend is a connection to life -

a tie to the past, a road to the future, the key to sanity in a totally insane world. 

~Lois Wyse

 

Here are a few other bittersweets from my past week...

 

Sunday: joining with your siblings to support your mom after your father's passing; a safe journey home after a heartbreaking weekend  

Monday: a day to immerse yourself in images from your father's life that will become a slideshow memorial; a safe journey back to your childhood home with two of your kids, and the safe arrival of two more

Tuesday: helping your mom prepare for your dad's funeral; an ice chest full of eggs, bacon, and biscuits waiting on your parents' doorstep, courtesy of a friend; a limo driver named Paul, who provides just the right amount of conversation on a tough day; friends who help you mourn your father; "Day is Done" by a solitary trumpet, in honor of your father's service to his country 

 

Wednesday: breakfast, courtesy of and the friend who left the ice chest full of food on the porch the day before, and your son, who took his Granddaddy's place at the stove; fitting the huge schefflera plant from your Divas and other plants from friends into your car trunk; a safe journey home; Whataburger in LaGrange at sunset with your kids

Thursday: winning a book you wanted in a contest in your lead generation class; love, in the form of cards, waiting for you in your mailbox

 

Friday: lunch with new friends/colleagues; your new business cards waiting for you on the front porch; a walk with your puppies at sunset

 

Saturday: a day at home to catch your breath; your cousin traveling to see your mom and take her to lunch; tiny purple flowers shaped like Easter lilies

 

Sunday: Mass with your kids and hugs from your friends; cleaning and organizing sprees, even if they only make a dent; your husband making it home, safe and sound, after his own long journey to support his brother during a sad time

I hope your week has been full of more sweet!s than bittersweets. Share them here! If nothing else, look around at those you call friends, and give thanks. 

“When life is sweet, say thank you and celebrate. And when life is bitter, say thank you and grow.” 

 ~ Shauna Niequist

 

 

Dear Daddy

Saturday morning my dad finally got an answer to his prayers: He went to be with the Lord.

In his honor, I'm reposting this letter I wrote to him here a few years ago...

 

 

Dear Daddy,

All of my life, you've been right here, holding my hand - loose when I needed loose, tight when I needed tight - but never letting go.

I disappointed you at times over the years (Oh, yes I did and you know it!) but you never stopped believing in me, never stopped wanting the best for me or wanting me to be the best I could be.

You believed in me even when I stopped believing in myself. 

You taught me what unconditional love really means. Even when I knew I had disappointed you...

(Remember when I hit that parked truck with my brand new Toyota Celica, my graduation present from you and Mama? Remember when I decided to flush my scholarship down the drain and drop out of college to work in a chemical plant?)

...I never once, not once, doubted your love.

You never said a word, never chewed me out for being stupid and irresponsible (even though I deserved it) but just kept holding my hand, offering whatever help and support I would accept.

 

Like you, I love reading, watching a good Western, history, traveling, kitschy tourist spots, pecans, rocks, and sweating in the sun. I inherited your silliness, impulsiveness, teasing/mean streak, and flash-fire temper.

I hope I also inherited your generosity, loyalty, and tenderness.

 

With Mama, you raised me to be confident, courageous and independent, willing to test myself, push myself, try new things, truly believing I could do anything I wanted to do because you believed it.

You raised me the same as you raised the boys, with no discernible difference related to gender. No matter what I did, or still do, your pride is palpable. It's a fuel that keeps me chasing my old dreams and discovering new ones.

 

Memories tied to you are the treasure of my life...

...Thank you for my sunflower garden, my orange and green painted bedroom, introducing me to ping-pong, Black Beauty, Leon Uris, James Michener and National Geographic.

Thank you for taking beginner square dance lessons with me and letting me chop down that tree when I was sixteen. 

Thanks for teaching me to drive, to play tennis, and for trying to teach me to bowl and play golf. Thanks for shuttling me and my friends to the movies and basketball tournaments, and for finding some of them jobs at your chemical plant.

 

You never thought you were special - you still don't - but let me assure you, you are, and I thank God every day for making you my Daddy and giving me (and now my kids) so much time here on Earth with you.

I look forward to the day I again feel your hug and see the twinkle in your eye, but for now, I carry them in my heart.

Rest in peace, dear Daddy. You deserve it.

I love you.

 

He didn't tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it. 

~Clarence Budington Kelland

 

Sometimes the poorest man leaves his children the richest inheritance. 

~Ruth E. Renkel

 

 

I love my father as the stars — he's a bright shining example and a happy twinkling in my heart.

~Terri Guillemets

Thank you all for the many prayers you've offered for him and my family this past year. Now please continue to keep my mom in your prayers as she faces life without him by her side after almost 64 years together.

I'm grateful I've been able to spend so much time with Daddy this past year, even if a lot of it was in ERs, hospital rooms, and doctor's offices.

I'm especially grateful that I was able to tell him I love him (and hear him say it back to me) on the telephone Friday.

Don't ever take the time you have with loved ones for granted or miss a chance to say "I love you!"

 Old as she was, she still missed her daddy sometimes.  ~Gloria Naylor

 

(The One and Only) Rae of Sunshine

 

Back then it was slumber parties...scary stories...dancing...eating junk food...wrapping houses...riding bikes...prank calls...boys...

Back then Rae was the life of the party...always on the move...full of ideas...as playful and mischievous as a puppy...

Fast forward forty-four years and things haven't changed very much, thank goodness!

We're still having slumber parties where we tell scary stories about menopause and loss. We're still dancing, eating junk food (but not as much!), and even occasionally wrapping houses.

The boys are still around...and Rae and I are still friends.

I admit...there was a long gap in there where we weren't a part of each other's lives, except for reunions every five years and occasional Deepwater/Deer Park girls dinners. But rather than drifting further and further apart, we grew closer and closer as time went on.

Now I hate to imagine not having her in my life.

Rae has seen enough dark times to recognize every blessing she receives, and she generously shares those blessings with everyone - even strangers if she sees there's a need. She keeps her eyes open for chances to help.

Rae has a way of bringing people together - people who have nothing in common except loving to be around her. She can be a ham, a clown, the center of attention...and yet make everyone around her feel special. She's comfortable in her own skin without ever being "full of herself" - in fact, she exudes so much confidence that it spreads to those around her.

Rae is classy and earthy - lipstick and tomboy. She embraces life, savors it, lives it passionately and adventurously, not taking one single second of it for granted...and she wants to make sure no one else does, either.

She is a vortex, pulling us into her whirlwind, taking us all along on the ride, not wanting any of us to miss a thing. Making us not want to miss a thing, either.

Yes, ten was a lot of fun, but fifty-four is even better, because of the friends I'm sharing it with...friends like Rae.

Happy, happy birthday, sweet Rae!

 

 

This is an updated re-post from a few years ago.

Rae is the kind of friend who always has a zillion things going on, who is always doing something for at least half a dozen people all the time. She has been there for me too often to count, checking on my parents, taking them food or just giving bringing them the sunshine of her smile. She sends me cards of encouragement and when she visits, always comes bearing gifts...even for my puppies!

And yet, I didn't even get a card in the mail in time for her birthday! 

Okay, there's really not even a card in the mail, yet, period, but I do hope to see her this weekend and help her continue her birthday celebration. There will be at least a card then!

In the meantime, my gifts to her are my words and assurances that I know I am blessed to call her friend, and that she can call on me anytime she needs me.

Happy birthday, Rae!

 

"Friendship is a promise made in the heart.
Silent.
Unwritten.
Unbreakable by distance.
Unchangeable by time."

~ unknown

A Letter in the Mailbox

 

 

 

I got a letter this past weekend. A real letter, written just to say hi, how are you, I'm thinking of you, and catch me up on the doings of my friend's life. What he's working on, what he's reading, what he's thinking about. It wasn't a required letter - a thank you or a filler around something he needed to send me.

It was just a letter.

Once upon a time, I wrote letters like that. And received them. Lots of them. It was how I kept in touch with my cousin, my grandmother, the teacher who left mid-year to move to the Dominican Republic, the boys I met at Garner State Park, the friends who went off to college...

I loved getting letters, so I wrote letters. Sometimes on pretty stationery, but more often on plain notepaper, because I could write pages and pages and pages!

Now, after just a few lines my hand and fingers are tired.

I never had great handwriting (I specifically remember getting a 'B' in 4th grade, Ms. Haygood!) but at least it was legible. Now, even before my hand gets tired, I have limited control of the pen or pencil; it'll go zigzagging off on its own wild adventure across the page.

The letter was from a writer friend. He has decided too much time on the internet has made him lose focus and it has affected his work. He's getting back to plain old paper, for his writing, communication (when possible), and for leisure, as in reading books with pages of paper.

Perhaps tonight I'll pull out some paper and re-train my fingers to hold a pen, to tame it to create legible words on a page once again.

What about you? Do you write letters the old-fashioned way? When was the last time you received one?

 

*******************************************************

Before I could publish this post, I received a phone call that required me to add a little bit here on the end.

My friend's letter mentioned a plan to get together with Joe, a classmate of ours from high school who was visiting Los Angeles. Joe, too, had sent me a Facebook message letting me know he'd be seeing my friend. I told him to tell him hi for me.

That evening Joe posted a photo of them on our class Facebook page, smiling, toasting their friendship and life.

The next morning, Joe died of a massive heart attack.

What's the moral of this story? I'm not sure.

I know I'm grateful for all of the ways I've been able to stay in touch with my longtime friends and get to know some of those faces from my past as adults. I'm grateful for letters, for email, for Facebook, and for phone calls that draw us together in times of joy and sorrow.

Perhaps the moral has something to do with living each day to the fullest, for not letting opportunities slip by to spend time with a friend or loved one.

Maybe it's to present a smile to the world at all times, like Joe did, no matter what's going on in your life, and in that way inspire others to find a way to smile, too.  

I don't know. But I do know I'll miss seeing that smile.

Rest in peace, Joe. 

“My friends have made the story of my life. In a thousand ways they have turned my limitations into beautiful privileges.”

~Helen Keller

...sisters are the chocolate chips.

One of the first and best gifts my parents ever gave me was my big sister, or "See-uh-stuh" as I called her for the first few years - I don't remember when I switched to Brenda.

How do people make it through life without a sister? 

 ~Sara Corpening

I've asked myself this question so many times and always felt a twinge of guilt that TG doesn't have a sister, even though she's got two great brothers.

Because I truly can't imagine how different, how empty and downright dull my life would have been without my big sister in it.

In the cookies of life, sisters are the chocolate chips. 

~Author Unknown

Brenda added drama and conflict to my life (fighting over the state of our bedroom)... enriched it with literature (sharing her books with me, like Swiss Family Robinson and Pollyanna and Jane Eyre)... expanded my world (taking me to museums, the zoo and movies I probably shouldn't be seeing)... and gave me a great soundtrack (exposing me to the best from the 60's and 70's.)

Sisters function as safety nets in a chaotic world simply by being there for each other. 

~Carol Saline

Well, she was certainly there for me. If I ever had a problem, I knew she'd be right by my side, no matter how much I'd irritated her seconds before.

The mildest, drowsiest sister has been known to turn tiger if her sibling is in trouble. 

~Clara Ortega

Oh, here's another good one that truly applies to Brenda and me...

When sisters stand shoulder to shoulder, who stands a chance against us? 

~Pam Brown

You don't want to test that, believe me. It could get ugly. We're formidable.

That being said, we're not just alike. Sure, we both like reciting Little Boy Blue and watching old movies. We share the same taste in books (just about anything) and enjoy visiting museums, no matter how small. 

But she's always been a 'dress' person. A girly-girl. I'm jeans or shorts, definitely a tom-boy. She knew all about coloring hair and curlers. I'm totally hair-inept.

I tend to make mountains out of mole hills while she refuses to even acknowledge mountains exist.

She truly has the most positive outlook of anyone I've ever known. 

Sisters are different flowers from the same garden. 

~Author Unknown

By example, Brenda taught me about love and acceptance, about appreciating the eccentricities that each of us on this earth has, about the importance of family connections, about looking on the bright side. We had our share of spats and arguments, but as I grew they dwindled, dried up and drifted away into childhood memories and stories.

An older sister is a friend and defender - a listener, conspirator, a counsellor and a sharer of delights.  And sorrows too. 

~Pam Brown

She doesn't hesitate to correct me if my facts are a little awry when I relate those memories and stories here on my blog, or I misspell a word. But as she's my biggest fan and cheerleader in whatever I attempt to do, I know not to take it as criticism. She's just burdened with a better memory and writing/spelling skills than I have!

A sister smiles when one tells one's stories - for she knows where the decoration has been added. 

~Chris Montaigne

She turned 62 today, a number that is hard for me to grasp because in my eyes and heart, she hasn't aged a day in my life.

Sister to sister we will always be,
A couple of nuts off the family tree.

~Author Unknown

And proud of it! I love you!

There is no better friend than a sister.  And there is no better sister than you. 

~Author Unknown

 

I've lived long enough, seen enough other sisters, to know that I was blessed with an extraordinary big sister. Thank you, Brenda...thank you, Mama and Daddy...and,of course, thank you, God.

This was an updated, conglomerate re-post in honor of my sister's birthday today (for fun memories we shared, go HERE)

Even though I'm in town to see my parents, I'm not sure if I'll get to wish her a happy birthday face-to-face. Tonight she'll be partying at her high school reunion, and since she's on the reunion committee, she'll probably be busy preparing for it today.

But I know she's been looking forward to this for months, and I think it's awesome she'll get to celebrate with all of her classmates. Have fun and happy birthday, sweet sister!

It's been a year. And what a year.

A year ago today, I whispered goodbye to this man and promised him I'd help keep an eye on his beloved wife.

 

 

It's hard to believe a whole year has gone by without him...until I stop and think of all that has happened in that time. So many changes.

Much happiness and laughter, but also much heartache, heartbreak, and many, many tears. 

So for today's Five Things on Friday, I'm sharing five things about Pop:

1. I can still hear his voice. I'm grateful for that.

2. When he picked me and Tom up from the airport years ago, he always had a couple of cold beers waiting in the car for us. Later, Pop and I both switched to wine about the same time, and he was quick to offer me a glass as soon as we arrived for a visit. Cheers, Pop.

3. His eyes twinkled more than anyone else's I've ever known. He was such a flirt!

4. Nothing got my husband moving on finishing projects around the house more than an impending visit from his dad. And if there was something he couldn't get to in time, Pop would take care of it.

5. He never let anything keep him from going to Mass each week. 

I love and miss you, Pop! I give thanks that you were in my life and honored to be among your daughters. 

He didn't tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it. 

~Clarence Budington Kelland

 

 

 

Breathing...and other sweet things in life

We've been on a rollercoaster ride with my parents the past two days...my sister, Brenda, on the front lines with them, dealing with EMS and emergency rooms...me on the receiving end of texts and phone updates from her.  

It started yesterday, when Daddy apparently had a mini-stroke. The sweet! of it is he made it home from the grocery store before it really hit, and by the time EMS arrived, he had recovered.

But during the excitement, my mom fell. She seemed okay at the time, and EMS helped her back into her wheelchair, but this morning when Brenda checked on her and Daddy after church, Mama couldn't put her weight on her left hip. EMS made another visit to the house, but this time whisked Mama off to the hospital, Brenda and Daddy in a car close behind them.

Thank God (literally!) Mama's hip isn't fractured. (I tell you what, that woman has bones of steel!)

But while there, a nurse noticed Daddy looking a little saggy and droopy on one side of his face and body. Sure enough, he was having another mini-stroke. They admitted him, too, and for a time the texts and calls I received today from my sister made me think I needed to head straight to Houston right after work if I wanted to tell my Daddy goodbye one last time.

But...another sweet!...his CAT scan showed no blood on the brain. Daddy perked up, talked to my sister, and asked for a glass of milk. The doctor was concerned about his blood sugar and blood pressure, but that's a broken record I've been listening to, and singing along with, the past ten months.

Seeing as how my Daddy doesn't think he needs his diabetes or heart medicine, the record is bound to start skipping more and more. We're thinking it's time to get firm with those two about moving out of their home of 50+ years into some kind of assisted living.

Please tell me...how do you practice tough love on your parents? 

I would appreciate your prayers, but the good thing is, we don't have to do anything about it tonight, so I'm just giving thanks that Mama doesn't have a fractured hip and I don't have to rush to Houston. 

Those are the sweet!est things I can imagine right now. But here are a few others from the past week...

 

 

Sunday: time between church and work to take your puppies for a swim in the backyard "pool"; a chance to meet with your writing group again after several missed meetings

Monday: working in your church again; watching rain pouring down outside of your window; starting your second real estate class, moving closer to your goal; a successful Silpada party, where you earn enough to pay 1/4 of your real estate class expense, plus get a beautiful silver bracelet for free; photos of your bff's brand-new grandson

Tuesday: people who volunteer for your church; church bells that play "How Great Thou Art" and other hymns; your son and daughter-in-law buying their first home

 

Wednesday: realizing the coral snake lying a few feet away is dead; visiting with retirees who hang around after communion services, drinking coffee; a gift of tomatoes, squash, and eggplant, fresh from a garden; your story about your dad published on savvydad.com

Thursday: a 95 on your second real estate final; a classmate with jumper cables when you discover your car battery is dead after class; a gorgeous sunset keeping you company on the way home

Friday: plants that smell like spearment; cardinals playing tag all around you; arriving at work early enough to receive communion; a long therapeutic girl-talk visit with a friend

Saturday: great customers all day long; an overnight visit with your son, daughter-in-law, and grandpuppy

Sunday: after a rollercoaster day of texts from your sister about your parents, by the end of it your mom does NOT have a fractured hip, your dad's CAT scan looks good, and you don't have to be torn about whether to take off work to see them; your husband making brownies while you're at work

 

This morning at church we had a visiting priest, originally from Nigeria - Father Justin Udomah. He told a great story about a pickpocket stealing his wallet, leaving him stranded in a small town...how he asked for help at a local church but was turned down.

He said he was tempted to get angry, but instead, decided then and there that he would never turn away anyone in need. He used the experience to illustrate the story of the Good Samaritan and how we should help each other, but he also stressed the importance of turning the negative in our lives into positive results. 

I really liked that.

If you find you have a hard time finding the sweet! moments in your day, or turning the negative into positive, I recommend a book that will help: Basket of Blessings: 31 Days to a More Grateful Heart , by Karen O'Connor. (Full disclosure: this is an Amazon Affiliate link, but I wouldn't offer it if I didn't really recommend it!)

I received it in a box of books Tom brought me from my mother-in-law. It was the first one I read, and now I'm re-reading it, even though I've already developed the habit of looking for those sweet! moments in my day. I'm always looking for inspiration. This book helps you learn to recognize the blessings all around you and make gratitude part of your every day life.

I hope your week overflows wth sweet! moments...a basket overflowing with blessings.

Gratitude is an art of painting an adversity into a lovely picture. 

~Kak Sri

 

 

 

Five Things on Friday

1.

I've captured Belle leaping three days in a row now. All I had to do was write about how I kept getting distracted at the last minute, and BOOM! now I stay focused.

It took about fifty years, but I've finally figured out how to manipulate myself. How do you trick, er, train yourself?

 

(I just said I've captured the photos...not that they were any good!)

 

2.

A scorpion stung Tom last night. In all the years we've lived here, through all of the rock moving and house construction, none of us has ever been stung until now, so all things considered, we've been pretty lucky...

...But I don't think Tom is feeling very lucky right now. 

 

3.

My son and his bride just bought their first house. It reminds me a lot of the first house Tom and I lived in as newlyweds...small, but just right. I'm so excited for them! And now my grandpuppy Josie will have her own yard!

 

4.

Last month I wrote a post about my dad for Generation Fabulous's Father's Day Bloghop. The writers behind SavvyDad.com spotted it on Huffington Post and approached me about using it on their website. Of course I said yes! The more I can brag about my awesome Daddy, the better, is my opinion!

If you hop over to SavvyDad to read it, be sure to stick around and read more stories about dads...or even offer your own. Their aim is to help promote good fatherhood practices.

 

5.

Have you heard of Malala Yousafzai? She's the 16-year-old who the Taliban shot in the head for speaking up about the educational rights of women. Of the moment she was shot, she says..."Weakness, fear, and hopelessness died; strength, power, and courage was born." She is an amazing young woman, a bright light shining in the darkness. I'd say she's destined for great things...but she's already achieved it.

I just listened to her speech to the UN Youth Assembly and urge you to listen to it HERE as well, if you haven't already. It's totally worth the sixteen minutes. 

 

Linking with Nancy's Random 5 Friday

 

 

Progress and Pre-Celebrations

Your present circumstances don’t determine where you can go; they merely determine where you start.

-Nido Qubein

 

Driving home along a near-empty toll road tonight, the horizon beside me suddenly came colorfully alive with beautiful fireworks.

Great timing, because inside I was celebrating the 100 I had just made on the final exam of my first real estate course. It was open book, and I was second to the last one to finish with only about 10 minutes on the clock...but I made 100! Whoo-hoo!

Our instructor was awesome, energetically packing four nights of material into three because of the 4th of July holiday. 

One down, five to go. My next class starts Monday evening, but I plan to start reading the book tomorrow... 

 

You can have anything you want – if you want it badly enough. You can be anything you want to be, have anything you desire, accomplish anything you set out to accomplish – if you will hold to that desire with singleness of purpose.

– Robert Collier

 

It was after ten when I arrived home, but Tom was still outside behind the house, piecing rock together to form a driveway within the beam of a huge floodlight. Almost every night when he gets home, and every spare minute he has on his days off, he's out there eyeing, chipping, tapping rocks. 

This is a bigger project than the terrace near the little pond, but he's made a lot of progress. I envy his focus and determination.

The Artist is alive and well.

 

 

What is the essence of America?  Finding and maintaining that perfect, delicate balance between freedom "to" and freedom "from." 

~Marilyn vos Savant

 

For the second year in a row, I'll be working on the Fourth of July. But isn't that part of being free, being able to work, to help your family?

My little town has a parade in the morning and fireworks near the lake at dusk every year on the Fourth. I faithfully attended both until a few years ago, when my kids grew up and away.

But I'm thinking tomorrow morning I might have time to watch a little of the parade before work...and perhaps I'll try to catch at least a few of the fireworks afterwards, just so it feels more like the Fourth. 

Whether I do or not, I'll give thanks that I'm an American, and wish my country a happy birthday!

 

 

I hope all of you have a fantastic Fourth of July, whether you celebrate with parades and fireworks, backyard cookouts, or quiet days at home!

The beauty of being an American is being able to choose. 

I prefer liberty with danger to peace with slavery. 

~Author Unknown

 

 

 

Five Things on Friday

1.

 

We stopped by the little pond on our walk this morning. I noticed that when the puppies waded in and drank from pond, drops of reflected sunshine splattered across the surface. It was magical!

 

2.

I did it. I registered for Real Estate School today. I scheduled the classes (which begin next week) around my work schedule. July is going to be tough.

My sister-in-law, who's been kicking real estate butt in Mesa, Arizona for the past couple of years, tried to get me to go into real estate last year, but it just didn't click with me at the time.

I think events over the past year helped prepare me for it, get my mind in the right spot, and now I'm really excited about this new career and grateful none of those doors I've been banging on have opened for me.

Dare I say it? I think I'll love it!

(I'm even more grateful I won't be filling out any more job applications....although I guess I better knock on wood about that.)

If I become scarce around here, it's because I'm studying! Wish me luck!

3.

For those who wanted to read the whole poem from my last post, here it is, from my grandmother to you...

(Just to clarify...she didn't write it, she just framed it and used it for reassurance, too.)

4.

Last night I attended a free screening of the new movie The Way Way Back through Gofobo. Have you heard of it? It's a promotion company for movies. I stumbled across it on another blog - I can't even remember which one - and signed up. All I had to do was complete a survey/review of the movie when I got home last night.

They warn you that they overbook and you need to get there early, so we did (I brought a friend)...but I didn't realize we'd have to wait in a line outside. You can tell the pros from the newbies like me - they bring chairs and books and food.

I'm not sure I would do it again, but it was still a fun evening, just spending time with my friend. On the way we stopped for Mexican food (and a Mexican martini)...they gave us free sunglasses in the theater...and while I expected more from the movie, considering the amazing cast, it was entertaining.

(And free.)

 

5.

I caught Phillip Phillips on the Today Show this morning. I don't watch American Idol, but now I wish I had watched the season he won. If I can find his CD on sale somewhere, I'm getting it, even though I don't normally buy CDs anymore, either.

I could listen to his songs over and over and over...

Not familiar with him? Listen to this...

 

 

{Remembering}

to link with

Random 5 Friday

Wild Turkey and other sweet!s

Belle and Max dashed off in the direction of a dry pond this morning on our walk, triggering a loud commotion as a mama wild turkey flew for the safety of a tree on the other end, squawking the whole way. Half a dozen small turkey-ettes followed her...squeaking, more than squawking.

Of course, it could have been a daddy Great Blue Heron, for all I know. Suffice it to say there was a lot of racket, then a big bird shot skyward followed by a bunch of little ones, and just seeing it was pretty cool, especially since everyone survived the encounter.

I didn't get a photo. The action was behind a screen of trees with just a tiny clear view before Mama/Daddy was out of my line of vision. Besides, I was busy calling to my puppies not to hurt the babies (in case there were stragglers) and also...I was just pretty much in awe, as I am any time I encounter one of God's not-so-ordinary-for-me creatures sharing the Hollow with us, usually sight unseen.

(So out of curiosity, how many of you thought I was going to talk about Wild Turkey bourbon?)

And now for some of the other sweet! moments of my past week:

Tuesday:  your puppy waiting patiently for a glimpse of you through the French doors; margherita pizza

 

Wednesday: morning sunlight kissing weeds, turning them into art; finding a Shabby Apple dress in your mailbox that you won on a blog giveaway at Over 50, Feeling 40; a pot-luck fajita dinner and margaritas with members of your committee

Thursday: long morning walks on soft summer mornings; puffy white clouds in a blue sky; watching your puppies cool off in a tiny spring-fed pond

Friday: the AT&T tech coming closer to the 8am projected time than the 8pm; a potentially cheaper telephone and internet bill; joining friends to celebrate the life of someone we were all blessed to know

Saturday: weddings; tiny flower girls and ringbearers; Mandolo's Italian food and carrot cake; capturing photos of the full (super?) moon

Sunday: lingering after church to visit with friends; dancing to the music of a Rolling Stones cover band (the Stone Rollers) on the shore of a lake; Rudy's BBQ and frozen sangria margaritas; helping friends celebrate their 40th wedding anniversary; support and tips from experienced friends for your latest idea to get a real estate license; Siamese cats; celebrating a dear friend's birthday

Monday: finally setting up your Etsy shop; more encouragement about real estate school from another friend; inspiration from your grandmother 

Tuesday: feeling rested despite not getting a lot of sleep; surprising a flock of wild turkeys...or herons...or somethings; a good preliminary report on your annual check-up; coming across a good blog post you wrote five years ago but forgot about; winning free passes to a new Steve Carell and Toni Collette movie screening

 

Okay, I have one more sweet! to share...

Last night I was feeling pretty discouraged about being broke and not being able to find a (substantial long-term career-type) job. So I finally set up an Etsy shop, where (fingers-crossed) I can sell pieces of my eclectic collection of books and junk odds and ends I've gathered over the years, as well as some of my photographs.

It felt good scratching that off of my list, but here's the sweet! part: on my way to bed after setting it up, I spotted a framed poem I inherited from my grandmother. It's a little cheesy, but I love it, so I guess that means I'm a little cheesy, too.

This is the part that resonated with me last night...

 

When things go wrong, as they sometimes will,
When the road you're trudging seems all uphill,
When the funds are low, and the debts are high,
And you want to smile, but you have to sigh,
When care is pressing you down a bit,
Rest if you must, but don't you quit.

 

It goes on like that for two more stanzas, but you get the gist of it. Sweet encouragement straight from my grandmother when I really needed it.

I hope all of you are finding plenty of sweet!s to lighten your load, too! 

Remembering Rena

Once upon a time, I was an elementary school librarian.

Well, technically an aide, barely making minimum wage and working 50+ hours a week ...but essentially I ran the library and absolutely loved it. If I had the time and money to go back to school, that's what I would be if I ever grow up.

The not-so-fun part of the job was cafeteria duty, walking up and down the aisles of screaming kids, opening milk boxes and ketchup packets, stopping food fights, and cleaning up...well, every once in awhile you got a sick kid, is all I'm saying.

But I was lucky: I had Jerry and Rena helping me.

I think at the time Jerry was the maintenance man for the school - maybe for the whole small district - but he was there to help Rena, his wife, who was the custodian. She had a special education teaching degree and I never understood why she preferred school custodial work to teaching, but she did, and she was awesome.  

We worked as a team which made it fun. I would help wipe tables...they would help open milk cartons and stop fights. 

I already knew them before that year, though. When we first moved to this little town, they ran an Italian restaurant serving great pizza. It was always packed. They helped us feel like this town was our home. We belonged.

They were smart, informed and active in the community. For years, Jerry and I sat until late at night at many school board meetings, staying on top of issues and decisions that were made.

Rena had an angel voice, using it to raise money and entertain the kids at school talent shows, and joining it with others in the local community singing group. She had a strong sense of right and wrong, and wasn't afraid to voice her opinion, but her smile rarely left her face.

What I didn't know until today was that they were childhood sweethearts, first getting together in junior high and marrying after college.

Rena passed away earlier this week at 63 of ovarian cancer; this afternoon I went to her funeral and told Jerry how much it meant to work side-by-side with the two of them. 

Mourners overflowed the small church onto the sidewalk outside. The doors were open to the Texas heat, and, despite the ceiling fans, it was hot. Really, really hot. But no one seemed to mind.

In the crowd I spotted many familiar faces. Some from my librarian days who I hadn't seen in years, or the parents of my kids' friends, and even several members of my church, because in a small town, friendships cross many lines, especially if you're someone like Rena.

I admit my mind wandered a little as the preacher spoke about Rena's gift of singing and how it touched so many lives. Friends and family spoke of her devoted friendship and encouragement, of the fun they'd shared. A cancer patient who met Rena in a support group shared Rena's vow to live every day she had left the best she could, to spend as much time with her friends and family as possible as long as she was able.

Rena had an angel voice, and even though she never became rich or famous from it (at least not in the worldly way)...never had a hit record... she developed and shared the gift, leaving the memory of it as her legacy.

For me, as I struggle to find a potential career instead of just another job, her legacy was something different - her attitude toward her custodial job. She was the best custodian you'd ever meet, always doing her best, and eventually losing her job because she stood up for the truth, defending one of her workers. She refused to keep silent and compromise her values.

I remembered today that what matters most is giving whatever you're doing your whole effort. Singing, cleaning, parenting, whatever. Stay true to your morals and values and ethics, and make the people in your life the most important thing.

Give it all you've got, no matter what 'it' is.

Because what you do doesn't define you. It's how you do it. How much of yourself you put into it. How many people you help or inspire or encourage along the way.

Rena, you nailed it as usual, honey. Thank you.

I'm blessed to have known you.

"Use what talents you possess:
the woods would be very silent if no birds sang there
except those that sang best."

– Henry Van Dyke

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Rich Inheritance (Happy Father's Day!)

Friday my mother thought Daddy was having a stroke. She's seen enough of them to recognize the symptoms in him.

He wouldn't let her call an ambulance, so she called my sister, who in turn called me en route to their house. 

The kids and I already had plans to leave early yesterday morning to celebrate Father's Day with Daddy. I hoped we wouldn't be visiting him in the hospital, instead.

With my sister's next call, the relief in her voice soothed my worries. Daddy's blood pressure had already dropped and he seemed okay. She would stick around a little while, but didn't see a need to call an ambulance. Thank you, Lord!

So yesterday we were able to celebrate Daddy with lunch at Applebee's, just as he requested, and then hang out with him and Mama in my childhood home, talking around the kitchen table, dozing in front of the television...

...and giving thanks every single second.

We'll head home early today so the kids can spend time with their dad, too.

I'm wishing Tom's Pop a happy Father's Day in my heart. I can still hear his voice echoing in my mind. I hope it never fades away.

My heart goes out to his sons who are missing him so much today, this first Father's Day without him, wishing they could give him a call and tell him "I love you".

So I'll give mine an extra hug and "I love you" for them, and for all of you who are missing your fathers today.

In honor of Father's Day, I gave Daddy a print-out of "Why I'm My Father's Daughter". I'm re-posting it here. I'm so honored that it was chosen for "Best Lessons from Dad" - a slideshow on Huffpost 50 of posts about fathers. Hop over there and see what other daughters had to say about their fathers.

 

If Daddy answers the phone when I call my parents, our conversation is a quick one.

"I can't talk," he'll complain. 

"You sound fine to me," I'll tell him. 

"What? I can't hear you. Here's your mother."

And that's that.

Strokes have taken their toll on his vocal chords. The effort to speak is too much for him and his voice gives out after just a few words. Perhaps his hearing loss can be blamed on strokes, too. (Although hearing aids could help with that. Sigh.)

But he was never one to talk much, anyway, and especially not on the phone. If I wanted or needed to talk, I went to my mother. I could talk to her about anything, and I'm very grateful for that.

 

Daddy and I communicated in other ways, though. We teased each other and toured old houses. We fought over who was going to mow the yard.

He chauffeured me and my friends to the movies and high school basketball games before I got my license. He taught me how to drive, and tried to teach me how to play golf and be a better bowler...without much luck.

Instead, I tagged along with him on the golf course, satisfied to watch him and admire the beauty of the courses. We took road trips to visit his mother, traveling along the back highways with the windows down, stopping often to visit historical sites or other interesting places that caught my eye or his.

We square-danced.

 

 

But words still formed our greatest connection. I was seven, maybe eight, when I uttered that inevitable childhood chant: "I'm bored." 

 "Bored? Here, read this," he said, handing me an old, mildewed copy ofBlack Beauty, "You'll never be bored again."

Well, I'm not sure if those were his exact words, but they should have been. I was hooked, and as long as I've had something handy to read (and I try to make sure I do), I've never been bored again. 

Besides Anna Sewell's Black Beauty - and hence, every horse book I could get my hands on - Daddy got me hooked on historical fiction via James Michener and Leon Uris. It's still my first love.

He also introduced me to Leon Hale and his Texas-flavored, rambling, memoirish columns in the Houston Post (and then the Chronicle)...the inspiration for my own personal essays and blog posts, I'm sure. I still read his columns online.

Because of Daddy, I surround myself with books, and I'm partial to old ones.

I read our ancient copies of Black Beauty, Call of the Wild, Daddy-Long-Legs, and A Girl of the Limberlost over and over and over, and to this day the smell of a musty book takes me miles away in my mind to those stories.

When I enter an antique store, I head straight for the book section. Not to buy, necessarily, but just to breathe, feel, and say Hello, you're not forgotten.

Our house overflowed in paperbacks, too, though. Daddy always had one in his metal lunchbox, usually a Louis L'Amour, and when I followed in his steel-toed-shoe footsteps years later, I always carried a paperback with me to work.

Today neither of us consumes books like we used to. Daddy reads the morning newspaper, but then turns his attention to the television when he's not doing laundry or other household chores.

I'm always somewhere in a just-for-fun book, but it takes me forever to finish them, only cracking them open to read while I eat lunch. When I'm at home. And don't have something else I have to read.

But all of those books and words and voices still bind us, and despite the miles between us, and the words we cannot say, I feel him with me every time I open a book. 

Thank you, Daddy.

 

 

Sometimes the poorest man leaves his children the richest inheritance. 

~Ruth E. Renkel

Tom and I don't have a lot of money, yet we are blessed with riches, thanks to our fathers.

Happy Father's Day to all of you who fills the role of father to someone!

 

Why I'm My Father's Daughter

 

If Daddy answers the phone when I call my parents, our conversation is a quick one.

"I can't talk," he'll complain. 

"You sound fine to me," I'll tell him. 

"What? I can't hear you. Here's your mother."

And that's that.

Strokes have taken their toll on his vocal chords. The effort to speak is too much for him and his voice gives out after just a few words. Perhaps his hearing loss can be blamed on strokes, too. (Although hearing aids could help with that. Sigh.)

But he was never one to talk much, anyway, and especially not on the phone. If I wanted or needed to talk, I went to my mother. I could talk to her about anything, and I'm very grateful for that.

 

Daddy and I communicated in other ways, though. We teased each other and toured old houses. We fought over who was going to mow the yard.

He chauffeured me and my friends to the movies and high school basketball games before I got my license. He taught me how to drive, and tried to teach me how to play golf and be a better bowler...without much luck.

Instead, I tagged along with him on the golf course, satisfied to watch him and admire the beauty of the courses. We took road trips to visit his mother, traveling along the back highways with the windows down, stopping often to visit historical sites or other interesting places that caught my eye or his.

We square-danced.

 

 

But words still formed our greatest connection. I was seven, maybe eight, when I uttered that inevitable childhood chant: "I'm bored." 

 "Bored? Here, read this," he said, handing me an old, mildewed copy of Black Beauty, "You'll never be bored again."

Well, I'm not sure if those were his exact words, but they should have been. I was hooked, and as long as I've had something handy to read (and I try to make sure I do), I've never been bored again. 

Besides Anna Sewell's Black Beauty - and hence, every horse book I could get my hands on - Daddy got me hooked on historical fiction via James Michener and Leon Uris. It's still my first love.

He also introduced me to Leon Hale and his Texas-flavored, rambling, memoirish columns in the Houston Post (and then the Chronicle)...the inspiration for my own personal essays and blog posts, I'm sure. I still read his columns online.

Because of Daddy, I surround myself with books, and I'm partial to old ones.

I read our ancient copies of Black Beauty, Call of the Wild, Daddy-Long-Legs, and A Girl of the Limberlost over and over and over, and to this day the smell of a musty book takes me miles away in my mind to those stories.

When I enter an antique store, I head straight for the book section. Not to buy, necessarily, but just to breathe, feel, and say Hello, you're not forgotten.

Our house overflowed in paperbacks, too, though. Daddy always had one in his metal lunchbox, usually a Louis L'Amour, and when I followed in his steel-toed-shoe footsteps years later, I always carried a paperback with me to work.

Today neither of us consumes books like we used to. Daddy reads the morning newspaper, but then turns his attention to the television when he's not doing laundry or other household chores.

I'm always somewhere in a just-for-fun book, but it takes me forever to finish them, only cracking them open to read while I eat lunch. When I'm at home. And don't have something else I have to read.

But all of those books and words and voices still bind us, and despite the miles between us, and the words we cannot say, I feel him with me every time I open a book. 

Thank you, Daddy.

 

Sometimes the poorest man leaves his children the richest inheritance. 

~Ruth E. Renkel

(This is my contribution to the Generation Fabulous Father's Day BlogHop. Click HERE to see the other wonderful posts about women and their fathers.)

The Sugar on Top, Part 2 - Happy 80th Birthday, Mom!

Today is my beautiful mother-in-law's 80th birthday. She didn't want a big celebration, although she deserves it after raising nine boys into nine wonderful men.

...Probably because that would tempt all nine boys plus their families to converge on her house (or nearby vicinity) all at once...and even for a wonderful mother, that's a lot of family to take all at once, especially after the year she's had.

She lost Pop in August, after a big reunion in July where almost all of the brothers overlapped in Florida for at least a day, celebrating Pop's 80th birthday and two brothers' 50th birthdays. Everyone converged again to celebrate his life at a beautiful wake and stayed as long as they could to help Mom get things settled. 

While she's always amazed me (can you imagine raising nine boys?) her grace and strength over the past year have been such an inpiration to me. But then, from the moment I met Tom almost thirty-two years ago, Mom has been teaching me about faith and hope. Thanks to her gentle guidance, I eventually converted to Catholicism, although I knew she would love and accept me whether I did or not.

Instead of one big celebration for her birthday, she's getting a few mini-celebrations over the month. One son visited last week and Tom is there now, along with two other sons (one lives nearby) and our son Daniel. I'm sure the days have been filled with plenty of cribbage and 3-13, and the requisite name-calling and cussing that goes along with the competition.

She may be joyful and quick with a hug, but watch out for her when you're playing cards!

I would love to be able to give her a big hug and let her stomp me as usual in 3-13 today, but I'm just grateful I was able to share Tommy's wedding with her last month, where she danced with her sons, grandsons, and even the bride.

Now here I am, a mother-in-law myself. If I'm only half as good at it as Mom has been, my daughter-in-law is a lucky woman. I learned from the best.

Happy 80th birthday, Mom. Thank you for embracing me as your daughter all those years ago...for all the hugs and help...and especially for your grace and strength that comes from your immense faith. I love you!

A mom's hug lasts long after she lets go.  ~Author Unknown

 

For more about Mom, read The Sugar on Top, Part 1.

Five Things from La-La Land

Linking with A Rural Journal's Random 5 Friday 

 

1. 

 

This card, full of words of love and encouragement and inspiration, waited for me in the mailbox earlier this week, a precious gift from my friend Rae. 

How could I not share them with you, because the words are true for all of us, aren't they? Take a minute to read them and believe them. You are very special.

Thank you again, sweet Rae!

 

2.

In a previous life, Jeannie was my kids' high school Spanish teacher. A few years ago she retired to follow her dream of becoming a missionary in Honduras through SAMSUSA.org.

I subscribe to her newsletters and in today's I found this note that made me really stop and think. I thought it was worth sharing with you, too...

 

Dear Mission Partners,

I’ve been thinking a lot about what we pray for. I hear so many people resolve their problems and say, Oh, if God would just.....let me pass the exam, give me the dream job I want.... everything would be good and I could handle it from there. We want Him to hand our desires to us and back off. We want the control back. We think we know what’s best for us. When he doesn’t answer our prayer we feel abandoned. God doesn’t care.

We often never consider that He has other plans for us, probably much better plans that we have concocted to solve our problems and make us happy. Usually he makes us wait for His plans and the waiting is very hard when we see our solution just within our grasp. The solution is so obvious! Why won’t He just give it to us?

His plans are so much more comprehensive than our solutions. We don’t see His huge map. Like Sara with Abraham, we tire of waiting and substitute our plans for His. But the true solution is His. What we have done in the meantime may only complicate things.

I’m pretty clear on what I want. I work toward it and pray I am in line with what He wants. But I am praying that His Will, not mine, be done. I am praying to be obedient. Because I know He’s in control. And I have found his plans to be much better than mine. For His Sake,

Jeannie 

Jeannie does amazing work there with the poverty-stricken, transporting children to doctor's visits, among tons of other things. If you're interested in donating to support her mission, send me an email and I'll send you hers.

 

3.

"If you're lost and alone...or you're sinking like a stone...carry on.
May your past be the sound of your feet upon the ground. Carry on."

~ Fun

Speaking of inspiring and energizing things, Fun. was on the Today Show this morning. This song has been in my head all day. (I'm not complaining!)

 

 

4.

It rained all day today, and I didn't mind a bit because I had no where to go. That's one of the good things about not having a real job beyond writing and a fledgling photography company. (The bad thing about it is the lack of a paycheck, of course.)

Anyway, rain makes me pensive, so I flipped through a few of the journals where I noted details of our lives for about twenty-five years. 

There were some tough times, I'll tell you, but one thing I noticed was how I always ended with a positive note...using words like 'faith' and 'prayer' and 'blessings'. I remember some of those times vividly, the ache and the worry and the fogginess of the road ahead of us.

I love seeing it from this perspective, how the paths opened up and the sun came out again. I was reminded again that God has a plan, that he's got our backs, which is a helpful reminder right now when the road ahead has gone all foggy again.

Tom says I live in La-La Land, where there's always a silver lining and everything is hunky-dory. He says it like it's a bad thing.

But if we've prayed for God's guidance and truly trust him, how can we not think everything is hunky-dory, even if we can't see it from where we're standing at the moment?

 

 

5.

The proof of that hit home when I read through my notes written during my oldest son's heartwrenching high school years...and compare them to the joy and love I see on his face in the short video below of The. Most. Beautiful. Wedding. Ever. Amen. by amazing videographer Adam Grumbo. (I can't wait for the full video!) 

My prayers of so long ago have been answered. My mother-tears were not in vain.

(It takes a minute to buffer, so take my advice -  go grab a tissue while it loads...)

 

God, Grant Me The Serenity...

Through the window, I see my brother-in-law's SUV pull up in front of the house. Several younger men gather to help maneuver my mother down from her seat and into the waiting wheelchair.

For a moment exhaustion pinches her face from the three-hour road trip and constant struggle to breathe, but then I see that familiar smile bloom wide, right to the edge of joyful laughter, so contagious that everyone around her smiles, too.

She said she wouldn't miss her grandson's wedding, and by golly, she made it.

I sigh in relief. Maybe she didn't have doubts about her attendance, but I sure did. Eight months ago, for reasons that still haven't been clearly diagnosed, her muscle strength and balance disappeared. Walking was already a challenge because of her asthma, but now she couldn't even stand without support.

At first she fought it, believing she just needed to push herself to build up her strength. She accepted the wheelchair as a temporary accessory, but if you turned your back for a second, she would jump up and try to walk. Upon waking in the morning, she would automatically head down the long hallway, alone and unassisted, to the bathroom.

Consequently, she fell. A lot. I witnessed a few of the falls myself, including one in the middle of the night when she took my dad down on top of her in the bathroom (he tried to stop her fall) and we subsequently spent the night in the emergency room.

I'm not sure how many other falls there were. She and Daddy tried to keep them secret.

"Mama, stop trying to walk without help. You don't want to miss the wedding, do you?" 

She didn't. But it still took a few reminders before she started behaving and playing it safe, using the wheelchair to go down the hall and letting Daddy hover nearby when she needed to stand.

It's been a tough transition for all of us. Mama has always been the caregiver, so strong she makes the Steel Magnolias look like a bunch of wilting lilies. She's the Serenity Prayer and "where there's a will, there's a way" all rolled up in one, put into action. When something needed to be done, she just did it, without any whining or woe-is-me-ing. 

She spent sleepless nights nursing us through the usual and not-so-usual childhood illnesses and injuries...encephalitis, whooping cough, dislocated hips. Later, in her forties, Mama maneuvered my quadriplegic brother's six-foot-frame in and out of his wheelchair, despite her petite size. And just a few years ago, in her late 70's, she took care of my older sister following her hip surgery. 

 

Mama was with me to welcome my firstborn into the world, watched him while I worked and his dad went to school, and attended every special event of his life. There was no way in hell she'd miss his wedding, even if it meant relying on others for a change and accepting life in a wheelchair...at least for a little while. 

God, grant me the serenity...

 

In honor of Mother's Day, Generation Fabulous asked us to talk about that other fabulous generation - our mothers. Whether we like it or not, and whether we knew them or not, our mothers helped shape us into the women we are today. I realize I'm blessed with an amazing mother and the chance to know her through the eyes of an adult, and I'm happy I got to share a little bit about her with you. To read more mom stories, go HERE.

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Five Things

1.

What a week full of tragedy, heartbreak, and heroism. First the bombing in Boston and subsequent acts of unselfishness and goodness that proved only light can conquer darkness...and that there's plenty of light in Boston. We witnessed it in the behavior of all of its citizens.

Next, the explosion in West, Texas, so close to home, where even more were killed and injured than in Boston. I've driven through that little town on my way somewhere else so many times, stopping for kolaches or to let the kids get rid of energy. In a tiny rural community like that a tragedy like this touches every resident and my heart goes out to them.

Now the earthquake in China. The numbers keep growing of those whose heartbreak is broadcast to all of us via the media...which means we can all pray for them. A universal prayer chain. An image glowing with light in yet another moment of darkness.

 

2.

I love sending cards to friends, but often don't have them on hand or the time to run out and buy one. So I decided to create my own...from my photographs and favorite quotes. I posted them on FineArtAmerica.com and placed my order. It arrived this week in a great box. 

I'm sending this one to all of those affected in #1, as well as anyone else reading this who is suffering loss right now.

 

 

"Oh heart, if one should say to you that the soul perishes like the body, answer that the flower withers, but the seed remains."

~ Kahlil Gibran

 

3.

Without excusing their behavior, I feel those two young men who planted the Boston bombs were merely pawns played by some greater evil who is sitting back, laughing at how they held us hostage for awhile and probably planning their next move. I pray I've raised my kids to be strong enough not to fall for false flattery, that they may never be manipulated in that way. 

4.

Just home from work yesterday evening, wondering where to get started on things I needed to do, one glance out the kitchen window put everything else on hold. A hawk perched in a tree overlooking our big pond ("big" only in comparison to our "little" pond; it's just a wide spot in a mostly dry creek right now, but it does have water!) I popped the 70-300mm lens on my camera and snapped a few through the window. Then I snuck out the front door, tiptoed around the corner, and managed to snap a few more before he swooped down to the pond. 

"Do you mind?"

They aren't great photos - he was pretty far away - but they're good enough to help me remember and be grateful that I stepped out of "to-do's" and just enjoyed the moment and this beautiful, amazing world around us.

 

5.

We're winding down to the Big Wedding of my son and his beautiful bride-to-be. For a long time the wedding was a year away, and now suddenly it's almost here! How does that happen?

So please don't forget me if I continue to be AWOL from your blogs for awhile, and negligent of emails and Facebook posts. But as my mom pointed out, Tommy's wedding is one of those once-in-a-lifetime things. A time to forget about the world and to-do lists and worries about the future, and focus, instead, on love and family and today.

"Once in awhile, right in the middle of an ordinary life, love gives us a fairy tale." 

 
--Anonymous 

Coach Christine, Queen of the Cosmos

We could hear her screaming from the other side of the soccer field, giving directions, shouting encouragement, and even growling disapproval at bad calls, voicing our own outrage so effectively we didn't have to. 

She was the epitome of a Mama Bear, fierce, loving, and protective of all of the girls on the Cosmos, TG's soccer team, equally. We were blessed to spend almost every weekend with her during soccer season for five years of our lives.

I knew her cancer wasn't responding to treatments. There was an open house a couple of weekends ago for friends to come and see her, but it was a long, tiring day at the winery and I decided I was too pooped and yucky to go that evening. 

Instead, I decided I would grab TG and we would pay Christine a quick visit one evening the next week. I knew she'd want to see TG more than me, anyway. But that week sped by, and the next, without "finding the time"...and now it's too late to see her again in person, give her a last hug, and tell her thank you in person.

Because Christine passed away on Monday.

My good intentions lie dried out, crumbled in a pile of ashes before me, so learn from my mistake and grab yours into a bouquet while they're fresh.  Carry them to the person you need to see again... the person you need to hug or kiss or say forgive me or thank you or whatever...because time doesn't bend to our convenience. It's on its own schedule and doesn't give a damn for ours.

Coach Christine was fierce, passionate, and all heart. I doubt her good intentions ever wilted even the teensiest bit.

I'm grateful she was a part of our lives, even though it was for a short time, and regretful that I didn't get to give her one last hug and thank you in person. She was an inspiration to me (and I'm sure to TG) and I'm better for knowing her.

 

Rest in peace, Coach...although I know you're really still there on the sidelines, pacing up and down, keeping an eye on those you love, giving support, encouragement, and protection. Your voice may have been silenced, but never your heart.

Five Things on (Good) Friday

1. Today is Good Friday, the day Christians around the world stop and consider the fact that an innocent person deliberately gave their life for them, out of love, even though they didn't ask him to and they did nothing to deserve it. Very sobering. 

But leave it to my friend Jim "Suldog" Sullivan to make me laugh about it. Go HERE to read his post about Good Friday.

2. I'm not sure how it happened, but earlier this week my computer and I somehow miscommunicated, resulting in a whole file of photos vanishing. I spent hours researching how to recover them, tried a few things with no luck, and finally spent $17 on a program called FileJuicer that managed to retrieve jpeg copies of my files.

I lamented the loss on Facebook, where a photographer friend/neighbor of mine told me he could retrieve the files from my card, even though I had already reformatted it. I tried not to get my hopes up, but hallelujah! he did it! All of the RAW photos were once again on my card, plus he gave me a copy of the program he used: Rescue Pro by Sandisk. And all it cost me was a 12-pack of Budweiser!

I call him Saint Bruce now. (Check out his beautiful photography at Bruce Coville Photography. The photo on the main page is the view of Lake Travis from his house.)

This is one of the files he saved. Every time I leave Houston I see this message and vow to capture it "next time". I finally remembered (eyes always on the road, don't worry!) and then promptly lost the file. Thanks again for rescuing it, Bruce!

3. My birthday is only a week and a day away. Last year my friends and family surprised me with the gorgeous iMac in front of me right now, telling me to use it to finish my book.

Well, I haven't, and I feel guilty.

4. Macy's put their Keurig coffeemakers on sale... almost half price, with a rebate! Since my old one kept bleeding all over my counter, I decided it was a sign I should get one. Happy birthday to me!

So far I'm loving it. I splurged and bought the little filter you can put your own coffee into. I drink way too much coffee to afford using those fancy k-cups all the time. They're only for company and emergencies!

5. I get to see 2/3 of my kids this weekend. 1/3 has tests next week and worried she wouldn't study if she came home. Sigh. But good decision. I guess.

Since half of the 2/3 is here already (plus my grandpuppy!) I'm finishing this up so I can go spend time with him. I hope you have a beautiful Easter weekend!

 

The outdoor Stations of the Cross at my church was finished enough for a group of us to make our way around this afternoon. Such a beautiful place. Easter blessings to all of you!