Long Hollow

The Home of the Brave

I was lucky to be a child of the late '70's, which means none of my contemporaries had to serve during time of war or in a war zone. While many of them volunteered, and there is never any guarantee that a war won't break out on any given day, their service was focused on preserving peace. On protecting us.

My oldest brother volunteered for Viet Nam twice, but I was too young to understand the danger or the effect it had on him. 

I'm older now, and while still experiencing it mostly second-hand, I understand a little better about the sacrifice and the effects of deployment in war zones through my son-in-law's service in the Air Force, as well as clients of mine who have served. It makes me marvel even more at the apparent ease of that many war-time veterans experienced when stepping back into civilian life after witnessing death and destruction. 

In gratitude to all of you who have served, or who continue to serve, here's my annual tribute about my own favorite veterans. All too often we take your service and sacrifices for granted. Thanks for serving anyway. 

 

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

~St. Martin of Tours

 

.

 

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 that 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, plus numerous cousins, nieces, and nephews who serve. 

 

 

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...

...like so many before him did, and many after him continue to do... like my son-in-law. He followed in the footsteps of his parents, who were both in the military. I know it's tough, living with so many unknowns, but it's a calling. 

 

To him and all of the Veterans - and their families -  I give thanks... for their determination,  their sacrifice, and their bravery.

 

 

 

 

 

"This nation will remain the land of the free only so long as it is the home of the brave."

 ~Elmer Davis

Happy Thanksgiving, Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and a bunch of sweet!s

 

 

The sky put on a grand finale sunset outside my window as I started reflecting on this past year.  However, it doesn't take a lot of reflection to know that 2018 will go down in history as one of my favorite years.

It's the year I became a grandmother! 

 

Watching Little C grow month to month has been an absolute joy.

I gave birth myself in 2018, in a sense. I formed a real estate team!  The Shallue Property Group. It's still in its infancy right now... just me and one other agent, Amanda, who is very sharp. Stepping out into this unknown territory was less scary knowing she would be by my side. 

In 2018 I also experienced my first trip to California, met and helped many new clients, and had some great visits and memories made with friends and family. I began my "60 by 60" list and made a lot of progress on it, although I need to become really intentional to hit #60 by my 60th birthday in April.  

Just more to look forward to in this new year!

Before I get too far ahead of myself, there are some sweet!s  since my last post that I want to remember...

 

 My daughter-in-law knows how to celebrate her birthday. She hosts a birthday fiesta every year... 

 

She knows how to throw a great party, while remaining very practical about the realities of parenthood!

 

 We celebrated Thanksgiving in Florida...

 

 

So many sweet! moments in one short week. ... Little C meeting his great-grandma Shallue for the first time ... numerous cribbage battles and games of 3-13 ... Little C 's first trip to the beach and to McGuires (where I had my first taste of shepherd's pie!) ... finding exactly what I needed while exploring  junk and antique shops with my sister-in-law ... and lots of down time, just hanging out and playing with the baby. 

Speaking of babies... my oldest turned 33 in December...

I was already proud of the man he has grown into, but watching him in his role as father just makes my heart soar. 

 

(But seriously ... wasn't this just yesterday?)

 

Babysitting this precious baby boy is a joy I can't explain ... 

 

 

We read good books and have some great conversations!

The real estate business is still hot in the Austin area and I'm grateful for all of my clients. I had several closings since my last post, including the first unit to close in the new 5th & West hi-rise complex.

Closings always land on the sweet! list...

 

Mozart's Christmas Light Show has become an Austin tradition and I finally experienced it. Having my son go with me made it extra sweet! (So did the coffee and the hot chocolate! It was a cold night!)

 

 

My word for 2019 is Joy, so I need to find a headband like my friend Ellie wore to this fun party...

 

 

It finally hit me that my aching back was probably related to my old, worn-out running shoes, so I treated myself to a new pair. I continue to find at least one heart rock almost every day, and I'm so pleased by how many of my friends are spotting hearts everywhere now, too, and sharing them with me ...

 

 

Little C celebrated Christmas in Colorado with his parents and his other grandmother, but we were lucky to have his sister with us. She's around 12, but thanks to special food and medicine, she is so energetic and puppy-like again. She and Belle had a great time running, hunting, and just being good country guard dogs.

Cold mornings like this one where the mist from Lake Travis pools in the hollows of the hills and the light is golden are my favorites. I was grateful she could run up the hill again so we didn't miss it. 

 

 

The passing of one of my favorite high school teachers, who had become a lifelong friend, was bittersweet. I'm grateful I stopped by to visit him last April on a visit to Houston. 

I couldn't go to the service, but a friend who did shared this with me. I think it's worth remembering and sharing...

 

Celebrating a friend's 60th birthday included a chance to catch up with these beautiful friends I've known since high school. I find it odd and wonderful that we are so close now, and seem to grow closer every year, when in high school we barely knew each other. I regret that it took us so long!

 

 

I've made a couple of quick trips to Houston in the past month to spend the night with my sister. It's been fun just watching movies and reminiscing. Her memory is so much better than mine!

Over the Christmas season I watched "Elf" three times!  First while decorating my tree, then on one of the visits with my sister, and again at an Alamo Drafthouse movie party with the rest of our market center's Agent Leadership Council (my first movie party!) 

My accountability group got together one Friday night with glue, scissors, poster board, a stack of magazines, and a couple of bottles of wine to create our 2019 Vision Boards. That's the way to do it! It's the first vision board I've ever completed. Have you ever created one?

I just happened to glance out the window one morning in time to spot a flock of Cedar Waxwings fly in formation into the hollow and settle in our willow trees. Belle and I ventured closer and I snapped photos with my Nikon... but alas, they are still in my camera. But it was the experience that was sweetest... stepping out of my morning routine to stand there in the quiet with Belle, admiring God's handiwork. 

My hours of driving feel much more productive since I discovered Audible. I loved listening to Napoleon Hill's Think and Grow Rich, and its more modern, funny version, You Are a Badass at Making Money, by Jen Sincero.

December brought me one last reminder of my awesome Italy Trip of 2017 with dear high school friends. I'll miss it in 2019! 

 

 

The sun has long set as I finish this. Fireworks boom from the hills around our house, making Belle nervous. I'm sure when Little C gets a little older, Tom will once again put on a fireworks show, but tonight we're happy to stay inside, watching television, reminiscing over the past year, and waiting for the ball to drop so we can call it a night... and a year.

I wish for all of you a blessed 2019, full of love, laughter, and joy. Happy New Year!

 

Lord, as the New Year dawns today,
      Help me to put my faults away.
      Let me be big in little things;
      Grant me the joy which friendship brings;
      Keep me from selfishness and spite,
      Let me be wise to what is right.
A Happy New Year! grant that I
      May cause no tear to any eye.
      When this new year in time shall end,
      Let it be said: "I've played the friend,
      Have lived and loved and labored here
      And made of it a happy year."

~Edgar Guest (1881–1959), "Prayer for the New Year"

And the lessons continue... (Happy birthday, Mama!)

 

It didn't hit me until today, but I'm sure my mom must have been a bit nervous as the birth of my first child drew close. After all...

1. I had been the baby of our family... and relished the role
2. As a little girl, I preferred stuffed animals to baby dolls.
3. My only two babysitting gigs were with older children.
4. I had never even changed a diaper!

Despite all of that, she bit her tongue and only offered advice, or shared experience, when asked. She was there with us in the hospital when he was born, but once home, she left us alone to figure out our new roles and relationships. 

It went beyond just trusting me not to inadvertently kill him. I felt she truly believed in my ability to be a good mother, and that gave me the confidence I needed  to trust my own instincts, and even to ask for her advice when necessary. 

I'm sure I did things differently than she did, but if she ever gave advice, it was offered in such a way that I didn't feel the need to defend my decisions or methods. I read all of the baby books I could get my hands on and subscribed to Parents magazine, but it helped knowing she was there as a major resource, or at least a sounding board. 

When my grandson was born a few months ago, my mind naturally traveled back to those days.  As usual, I turned to my mom; I started channeling her to help me in my new, unfamiliar role as grandmother. After all, it had been years since I held a newborn or changed a diaper!

His birth triggered so many memories, and I felt myself wanting to talk about my own experience, but I bit my tongue (or tried to), realizing my chatting may be taken as criticism.

Because despite the fact that this is their first, I knew beyond doubt they would be wonderful parents, even if they did some things differently than I did. Every child is different, with different needs, so there is no one "right" way, anyway. 

And obviously, they are doing an awesome job.

 

 

(My Mama would just eat him up, I know.)

I'll continue channeling her as he grows to help me stay close, but on the sidelines, ready and willing to help with whatever is needed, and always strictly adhering to their guidelines. I hope to at least come close to being the grandmother she was... 

 

 

On Mama's 77th birthday, I listed the things she had taught me, and then added to it every year. After her death, I expected Lesson #84 to be the last one.

It turns out she is still teaching me, so the list continues, and I imagine it will as I continue on into all the new territory that comes with growing older. Thank you for being such a great teacher, Mama, without ever utttering one lecture. (That's one lesson of hers I didn't learn, unfortunately! Sorry kids!)

Without further ado, here's the complete list with links to her previous birthday posts....

 

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. persistence 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 - yours or someone else's
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.
83. smile and show appreciation to those who are willing to help you - they may have it tougher than you in many ways
84. Appreciate every second you're given, because life is beautiful.
85. Treasure the people in your life; take advantage of every chance you have to be with them, or to help them, even on days you don't like them.
86. Don't wait for things to be perfect to travel. Just GO!
87. How to be a good grandmother

 

Happy birthday, Mama, and thank you. I miss you. 

 

"My mom is a neverending song in my heart of comfort, happiness, and being. I may sometimes forget the words, but I always remember the tune." ~Terri Guillemets

"Freedom is never free." ~ Anonymous

 

In gratitude to all of you who have served, or who continue to serve, here's my annual tribute about my own favorite veterans. All too often we take your service and sacrifices for granted. Thanks for serving anyway. 

 

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

~St. Martin of Tours

 

.

 

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 that 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, plus numerous cousins, nieces, and nephews. 

 

 

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...

...like so many before him did, and many after him continue to do. 

 

 

 

 

"This nation will remain the land of the free only so long as it is the home of the brave."

 ~Elmer Davis

A Daughter...a Gift of Love

 

A daughter is a gift of love.

~Author unknown

My daughter had a birthday recently. When pressed, she allowed me to have a small family gathering, for my benefit. She told me it should be my celebration, since I'm the one who did all the work that day. 

That's a perfect example of the woman she has become. When I think back over the past several years... all I've been through with my parents and starting a new career... I can see her right there beside me, ready and willing to do whatever I needed. She's independent and self-confident, as well as fiercely loving and thoughtful. 

She was there on multiple one-day trips to Houston, helping me clean out my mom's house and work the estate sale. She's always willing to help me out at open houses if I really need her,  setting up signs and keeping me company. When I'm traveling or have long days with clients or in classes, she and her brother rearrange their schedules to be home with Belle, even using their own vacation at times to cover for me.

In Mama's last few months, it was her suggestion that we accompany Mama every Sunday to the worship service at the nursing home. I sat on one side of the wheelchair and she sat on the other, either holding up the hymnal so Mama could see it or just holding her hand.

Those Sunday mornings are treasured memories now. Such a priceless gift, added to the many others she's given me all of her life. 

She hasn't always been a perfect child, but then, I have never been a perfect mom.  She's very private - if you've read my blog very long, you already know that. Our roles are often reversed, with her cautioning me on internet safety, rather than the other way around. She can be very wise. 

More and more I'm realizing she isn't just a gift from God for the help and support she gives me, but also for the ways she makes me question what I think I know and things I take for granted. I'm a better person because of her. She helps me continue to grow and learn. 

She challenges me to be a better friend. I hope I'm half the friend to her that she is to me.  

Happy birthday to you, and thank you, my sweet daughter. 

 

 

 

A daughter is a little girl who grows up to be a friend. 

~Author Unknown

 

What does a father do? He leaves a legacy.

 

 

"It’s hard to describe the choked up teary eyed swell of love and shaky adrenaline you experience witnessing your first child transform from a stomach bump into a little being. You’re mesmerized by their little sounds and movements for hours. Its like staring at the northern lights, lightning storms, ocean waves smashing cliffs, the most epic sunrise/sunset you’ve ever seen, or a yard full of puppies." ~ Tommy Shallue

My son wrote those words after experiencing the birth of his own baby boy earlier this week, just in time to celebrate Father's Day today.  I felt he described the magic of becoming a parent so well that I asked permission to share his thoughts on here.  

I remember as if it were yesterday the overwhelming sense of awe and love I felt holding him for the first time (my son), falling into the infinite depths of his eyes and knowing for certain there was a God.

And now our son is a father. Our firstborn, who transformed me into a mom and Tom into a dad 32 years ago, has transformed us once again, into grandparents.

Witnessing my first child cradle his own first child on that first day of his birth, gazing at him with wonder and love, filled me with joyous pride and peace. I sensed that something had clicked into place. A baton had been passed and I knew it was in good, steady, strong hands.  

He's going to be an awesome Daddy. No. Correction. He already is an awesome Daddy.

But then, he comes from a long line of awesome Daddies. In honor of Father's Day, here's a repeat of an old post, featuring his dad and two granddads, who showed him the answer to this question...

 

What does a father do?

 

A father gives advice 

A father nourishes the body 

and the soul 

 

A father encourages

A father is joyful

A father reads

 

A father lends a hand 

 

A father plays 

 

A father offers support 

 

A father sticks close by your side

 

A father makes memories

A father teaches 

A father laughs 

 

A father is gallant

 

A father proves age is just a number

 

A father reaches out 

A father hangs on tight

 

A father dances

 

A father helps you aim high

A father shows pride 

A father sets a good example to follow

A father relaxes

A father listens

 

A father teaches you how to play fair

 

A father helps out

 

A father loves

 

A father experiences awe

 

 

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

~Clarence Budington Kelland

 

Happy Father's Day! 

What is Love? (A Rerun for Valentine's Day)

Love talked about can be easily turned aside, but love demonstrated is irresistible.~

W. Stanley Mooneyham
American minister and speaker, 20th century

 

One of my favorite Valentines from Tom one year ... our little pond shaped into a heart

In honor of Valentine's Day, I thought I'd go back into the archives and find one of my favorite posts to share again. It was prompted years ago by a friend/blogger who challenged us to answer the question, "What is love?" Please share your own answer in the comments!

 

...Love is the sound of drums coming from my house...fulfilling a wish I had tossed aside, believing it couldn't come true because there wasn't a spot for them in our new house. Tom surprised me with a set (thank you, Craig's List) on our anniversary a few years ago. It proved to me he pays attention. At least sometimes.

(Love is throwing him not one, but two surprise birthday parties...plus a huge family reunion/50th birthday party that lasted two weeks and involved having people sleeping on every square inch of the house, including on a mattress in the downstairs shower stall. Poor Kirby)

...Love is coming in the house from a long weekend, relieved to discover your coffee grounds from four days before have (thank the Lord!) been dumped and all the pieces are clean and dry, ready to go...despite the fact that your spouse doesn't drink coffee. (If he hadn't cleaned it for me...ooh, gross!)

(Love is picking up empty Dr. Pepper cans from all over the house...and outside...and biting my tongue. Pretty much.)

...Love is finding the coupon section of the Sunday newspaper separated for me, without asking.

(Love is gathering up the Sunday newspaper, at times from different rooms in the house, and putting it in the wicker basket where it goes.)

...Love is not minding that I plant myself in front of the computer every evening after dinner to write...and biting his tongue when he sees I'm on Facebook instead.

(Love is not minding that some nights he just crawls in bed and flips channels, instead of working on whatever project is in progress at the time, because he's physically and mentally worn out. He leaves the house at 5:30 am, for goodness sake!)

...Love is not being jealous about phone calls from old boyfriends, or emails from old boyfriends, or birthday lunches with old boyfriends.

(Love is not being jealous about his women friends and co-workers...even when he pinches Lisa's rear-end.)

...Love is always dancing the Cotton-Eyed Joe and the Schottische even though his hips and ankles still hurt from that accident in 1998.

(Love is sitting by his side in the hospital for a week, afraid to leave him...holding the urinal in place for an hour because he thinks he can go on his own...feeding him ice chips, sleeping on a fold-out chair, grateful for the sound of his snoring because it means he's alive.)

...Love is piecing together sections of workshop floor matting for me to lie on when I do sit-ups, so my tailbone doesn't get bruised anymore.

(Love is subscribing to Men's World e-newsletters and forwarding the good ones to him to keep him healthy.)

...Love is not nagging each other because the bathroom he/she is in charge of cleaning is a borderline health problem.

...Love is hanging on to and supporting each other through the illness and death of a parent, financial worries, and the never-ending ups and downs of having children.

...Love is saying to hell with everything that needs to be done around here to play ping-pong...or go for long walks along the creek...or travel virtually to Ireland or Istanbul or Italy with Rick Steves...

...Love is still joking around, still having fun, still laughing at each other and at ourselves after more than 36 years together...and hoping we have at least another 36 together.

The proof of love is in the works. Where love exists, it works great things. But when it ceases to act, it ceases to exist.

~Pope St. Gregory the Great

 

Happy Valentine's Day to you!

Happy birthday, Belle! (and other sweet!s)

 

 

Eight years ago, while we were mourning the loss of our sweet Charly, a litter of puppies was born in east Texas.  Whether the mom was a pure-bred who had a wild fling with a stray, or she was a mixed breed stray herself, we'll never know. 

We do know that a few weeks later a little black and brown bundle of cuteness wandered up to a home near Tyler, Texas. Unfortunately, the home belonged to a single mom living on a teacher's salary who could barely afford the horses and handful of stray dogs and cats she already owned.

Fortunately, she was determined to find a home for the cute puppy. Otherwise she would have to send it to a shelter... and there were no 'no-kill' shelters in Tyler, Texas. 

Her son posted its photo on a Facebook page for University of Texas students. Our daughter spotted it and sent it to me. It wasn't the first photo she had sent me, but by then, our resolve against getting another dog had been cracked by our German Shepherd/Great Dane Max's obvious despondency over Charly's absence.

He was so lonely! He just dragged his feet on our morning walks, ignoring Frankie the guinea fowl, and spent most of his time sleeping.

Seeing him like that just broke my heart!

We gave in, deciding Max needed a puppy, and after several phone calls with the puppy's foster mother, Tom and I arranged to meet her at a Dairy Queen in a little town outside of Waco. 

She called the puppy 'Thibodeaux'.

Um, no. To me, that just wasn't a fit. So as we drove down the highway, I ran name after name through my mind, trying to find just the right one.

At the Bell County line, it came to me  - "Belle". My Belle of Long Hollow.

Max gave his full approval, to the name and the puppy.

 

 

We'll be celebrating Belle's birthday on Sunday, probably with an extra walk and maybe some popcorn. She loves popcorn.

Somehow eight years have passed, as well as Max and Frankie. Once again, we've decided we won't get another dog.

I think Belle's okay with that; she's an inside dog now and very content. Besides, I don't think our allergies or our iRobot could handle a second dog in the house!

But "never say never", right? I know each one of our critters has been a gift from God, delivered just when we needed it.  Who knows who we'll meet up the road?

 

 

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

~Agnes Sligh Turnbull

 

And now for a few more sweet!s I've collected since Christmas...

A motivating all-day leadership mastermind in Houston for all of the Keller Williams Realty Agent Leadership Councils in our region

Spotting a "sun-heart" in my sunlight photo taken on the trip home from Houston afterward (this is cropped quite a bit so you can see it) 

 

(Yes, I know it also looks a bit like a lima bean)

 

All of the "Friend-versary" videos popping up on Facebook 

Allergy medicines that keep my cedar fever under control

Belle snuggling in her puppy beds all over the house

 

 

Walks with Belle on gorgeous, frosty, golden mornings, and the view of mist rising from Lake Travis 

Getting a contract on one of my listings in 9 days

 

Seeing the latest Star Wars movie, "The Last Jedi", with my son... flashing back to seeing the very first one 40+ years ago ... feeling I had come full circle.

Spending a day helping a friend celebrate her birthday in one of her favorite places... Magnolia Market in Waco ... and seeing another longtime friend for the first time in years. 

 

A friend's new home almost complete on the lot I helped her buy a year ago

Audible, so I can "read" books in my car when I have no time at home

My oldest decorating his Christmas tree with his childhood ornaments that used to hang on mine

 

My photo book of my Italy trip delivered to my doorstep

Friends recommending me, bringing me new buyer and seller clients

Warm temperatures returning after three days below freezing

A warm bowl of Hoppin' John on a cold New Year's Day

 

Spotting a huge owl on my morning walk and hearing it whistle

A successful surgery for someone I love (but please keep them in your prayers as they recover) 

And of course, plenty of heart rocks... 

 

(Can you think of any sweet!s in your own life? Share them in the comments!)

 We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures.

~Thornton Wilder

 

Lesson #86 (Still teaching me! Happy birthday, Mama!)

A tiny box in the upper righthand corner of my computer reminds me that today is my mom's 86th birthday. (As if I could forget!)

However, my heart reminds me that she is so much more than those earthly years. She is free from their bonds. I feel her love around me all the time, see her in my face and my actions at times, and still hear her voice... sometimes soothing me or giving me advice ... sometimes teasing me and a tad sarcastic ... but always, always full of love. 

  

On Mama's 77th birthday, I listed the things she had taught me, and then added to it every year. After her death, I expected Lesson #84 to be the last one. It turns out she is still teaching me, so the list continues. 

When my friend Byron first mentioned a bunch of us traveling to Italy to spend a week with him and his wife after our high school reunion, I balked. First, there was the issue of time away from my business. It's not just a matter of not being around for my clients, but a good portion of my day is spent trying to find new clients to help keep my business alive ...because of issue #2: finances. We still have some debt to pay off and a house to finish!

There were just so many other things calling out for the money I would spend on a trip to Italy. 

 But... my mama's lessons came to mind, particularly #41, #58, #70, and #84.

I decided to #30 and just go for it.

 

 

The thing is (Mama's favorite phrase), she and Daddy traveled a lot after we were grown up. They drove the west coast from California to Washington, went on a cruise around the Hawaiian Islands, and visited Canada. They went to Disneyworld, Las Vegas, New York City and a bunch of other cities I don't even remember.

 

 

But Mama always dreamed of going to Switzerland and she never made it there. I'm not sure what kept them from going - probably finances or health concerns - but by NOT going, she gave me Lesson #86: Don't wait for things to be perfect to travel. Just GO!

Thank you, Mama! You were right, once again! It was a fabulous, once-in-a-lifetime trip that I will treasure forever. 

 

 

Thank you for all the lessons you gave me, whether intentional or not. You taught more by example than words... just another clue to what a wise woman I was blessed to have as my mother. 

 

 

Without further ado, here's the complete list with links to her previous birthday posts....

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 - yours or someone else's
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.
83. smile and show appreciation to those who are willing to help you - they may have it tougher than you in many ways
84. Appreciate every second you're given, because life is beautiful.
85. Treasure the people in your life; take advantage of every chance you have to be with them, or to help them, even on days you don't like them.
86. Don't wait for things to be perfect to travel. Just GO!

   

"All that I am or ever hope to be, I owe to my angel Mother." ~Abraham Lincoln

Love you, Mama. Happy birthday, and God bless you!  

Thirty-Six Years Ago Tonight...

Thirty-six years ago tonight, I had no idea my life was about to veer onto a drastically different course when I decided to go out dancing alone.

That's when I first met Tom.

Looking back, it's easy to see God's hand in the whole thing, but I was just going on 'gut' feelings. Being an agnostic at the time, I didn't realize I was actually stepping out in faith. 

God works in mysterious ways, doesn't he?

Re-reading this blog post always reminds me that God has a plan for me. So, without further ado, here's yet another repost of "The Beginning of Us"... because I love this story! Happy anniversary to us!

 

Tom asked me to dance on Sept. 25, 1981. I was at Kenny Stabler's Diamondback Saloon on a rare Friday night off, in a bad mood because my boyfriend of five years "had other plans" that night. That wasn't unusual - he wasn't a very good boyfriend. To top it off, none of my friends I expected to see were there that night. I felt very alone.

I guess that's how it is with a miracle - when you least expect it, when you feel like nothing is going right, it pops up out of the blue, or, in this case, steps up and asks you to dance.

This is my version of that night: It was some Michael Jackson song that I didn't like - Tom knows which one - and I wouldn't normally dance to it, not even in a good mood. I had the "no" on my lips, but "yes" came out instead. What could I do but follow him onto the dance floor, waiting for the song to end so I could go back in my corner and brood some more?

But when the song ended, a country-western tune started right up and he asked me to dance again. I hesitated - I had talked to him enough to notice he had a funny accent, which meant he was probably a Yankee and wouldn't know how to two-step. But before I could answer, he took me in his arms and started dancing. Two-stepping, no less!

While we danced, we talked. I learned his name was Tom, that he was from Maryland, and that he was twenty-four even though he looked younger than me. By the time the song was over, I had agreed to sit at his table.

He was with an interesting mix of people...including a friend's Welsh wife (the friend was a Pasadena cop who was working nights), her New York friends, and Chris, a redhead from Maryland who preferred punk rock to country-western.

I was the only Texan.

When it was time to leave, he walked me outside, asked what I was doing the next night (going to Gilley's to see Alabama perform) and could he meet me there? Sure. My boyfriend had already told me he didn't want to go. Then, with a peck of a kiss, Tom walked away to join his friends, leaving me to wonder what the heck had just happened.

I told my boyfriend, Chris, I was meeting someone at Gilley's. He didn't care. He obviously wasn't worried. 

I was worried, though. Worried I wouldn't recognize Tom. I stood at the bar where I could see customers coming through the door. Was that him? "Tom," I called. He glanced up in the direction of my voice. I smiled and waved. He smiled and made his way to me. Whew!

I don't know if I believe in "love at first sight," or if there's such a thing as "someone for everyone," soul mates destined to meet and live happily ever after. But I do know that something changed in me that night at Gilley's. Tom and I talked, laughed, and danced. Later, he walked me to my car, and we really kissed. He asked for my phone number and I gave it to him. I didn't know if this was something that would last forever, but I knew I wanted to spend more time with him. I knew I would be telling my boyfriend good-bye, no matter what happened between me and Tom.

The next two weeks were a blur of emotions and firsts...

• Our first movie: Continental Divide with John Belushi.
• Our first dinner out: Mario's Pizza in Galveston, followed by stargazing in a sleeping bag on the beach. (He brought stemmed glasses and wine in an ice chest. Lying there in the sleeping bag, he gave me his dog-tags; in my pre-Tom life, I would have thought it was a corny gesture, but that night it put butterflies in my stomach and melted my heart.)
• Our first rock concert: Pat Benatar.
• Our first trip to the Renaissance Festival.

Cute cards saying he missed me rested on my condo doorstep when I stumbled home after working the night shift. Was this guy for real? I dragged him to meet my friends and family, to get their opinion. Maybe there was something I wasn't seeing. But they all liked him...I liked his friends...they liked me. Where was the glitch? I couldn't find one.

It was an emotional high with an undercurrent of deep sadness. Chris had been a terrible boyfriend most of the time, but I loved him. We just weren't good for each other. However, I really didn't think I could fall for anyone else until I met Tom.

As jealous as he'd always been, I guess Chris didn't think I would fall for anyone else, either, and it hit him hard. One morning soon after meeting Tom, I had just gotten to sleep after working the night shift, when a banging on my door woke me up.

It was Chris. He went straight into my kitchen and grabbed a butcher knife. Before I had time to be scared, he jerked a small Norfolk pine he had given me out of its planter, scattering dirt all over the carpet, and started hacking away at the trunk, saying it was a symbol of our love. (To his credit, a few months later he called and apologized for how badly he had treated me and wished me well. We had just been kids, after all.)

Two weeks after that first dance, Tom and I spent a perfect day at the Renaissance Festival outside of Houston with my parents, my brother, his girlfriend, and Tom's best friend. That evening, it happened: "Will you marry me?"

"Yes."

Wait! Was I crazy? "But don't tell anyone," I added. "Ask me again in a couple of months, and do it right, with a ring, even if it's a Cracker Jack ring."

Two weeks was just too soon. I had to find out what was wrong with him. There had to be something - he was just too good to be true. Two months should be plenty of time.

But he called all of his brothers and friends, anyway. "I'm getting married!"

They couldn't believe it. At his older brother's wedding just two months before, everyone had teased him he'd be next in line. "No way! I'm too young. I'm not getting married until I'm thirty-five."

Two months later landed on Thanksgiving. We went to my parents, after I had worked all night and only squeezed in a couple of hours of sleep. He dumped a dozen boxes of Cracker Jacks on my lap and told me to start looking for a ring. "What? You're nuts. They don't put rings in Cracker Jacks boxes anymore."

"Okay, you open these two and I'll open these," he said, somehow still smiling at me.

Grumbling, I opened the first box and dug out the prize envelope. I felt it before I opened it - a ring.

My mouth dropped open. "Is it real?" But I knew it was. "How did you do that?" I might have been a little foggy from lack of sleep, but I swear the box and envelope had both been sealed.

He took the ring from me. "Will you marry me?"

Of course I said yes - again - and the rest is history.

Postcards from Greece, Dragonflies, and other sweet!s

 Deep in the sun-searched growths the dragonfly
Hangs like a blue thread loosened from the sky.

~Dante Gabriel Rossetti, Silent Noon

 

This morning as Belle and I finished our walk, a dragonfly buzzed close, circling and circling. It even hovered about a foot from me for a few seconds, providing me a good look at its glimmering green and turquoise body,before finally flying off and disappearing into the trees.

What a sweet moment!

I've noticed a lot dragonflies zipping around the hollow lately. They never seem to land, just zip, zip, zip, but in 2010 dragonflies of every color posed for me.

The friendly one this morning reminded me of those old photos, so I went searching through my files so I could share this with you.

 

 Dragonflies are just amazing, aren't they?

 

I wish I could say I took the next photo.  My son and his wife are finishing up an idyllic week in Greece, which followed an idyllic week on the Amalfi coast of Italy. It's an early birthday celebration for my daughter-in-law.

Those kids know how to celebrate, that's for sure!

They are both awesome photographers, too, capturing amazing views, architecture, and slices of life, besides making sure they get some photos of themselves experiencing all of it. 

I've enjoyed following along on their adventures and have added all of the places they've visited to my bucket list. I'm so grateful for Instagram and Facebook!

 

 

And now for a few other sweet!s from the past two (or so) weeks, working backward ...

Celebrating a client/friend's 60th birthday party while watching the sun set over Lake Travis

Celebrating another friend's 55th birthday by dancing for hours

 

 

A blog/photographer friend providing authentic recipes for Spanish tapas for me for a Wine & Tapas meeting I'm going to this week. (Sidenote: I met Juana through her food-story blog years ago. Although I've never met her in person, I consider her a dear friend. She has an amazing story, which she has had published. Unfortunately for me, it hasn't been translated into English yet, but if you read Spanish, you should buy it and read it. I know it's good. "Por Una Sonrisa")

Enjoying a second cup of coffee on my deck with Belle on a relatively cool morning in time to watch a great blue heron fly over and two red hawks fight for custody of a tree near our creek 

Our hollow at night... the smell of the cedars and the creek, the sound of night insects, and the stars scattered across the sky

Finally adding posts to the real estate blog I started last year... "Your Austin Sweet Austin Home". (Please check it out and share it with friends! Thank you! )

Having the flexibility to cover for our church secretary at the last minute when she needs to go to the doctor....

... and seeing this on our priest's desk...

 

 

How Belle can sense when Tom or the kids are about to arrive home when they are still at least a mile away

An executed contract for a buyer who is looking forward to moving his family back to Texas from California

Friends and clients who don't even live in Texas purchasing raffle tickets that benefit my church and small town

Our family and friends in Florida being spared damage from Hurricane Irma 

Lunch with my cousin

Finding a heart rock in my path almost every day

 

 

Helping a friend's dad find a home

Connecting an aging neighbor with someone who can help her take care of her yard

A visit with my nephew who was in town helping to coordinate hurricane relief 

My listing in Kyle, Texas going live! (Help me find a buyer!)

 

 

The full moon waiting for me to get up before it disappeared below the horizon

Driving on country roads at night with the full moon keeping me company and the windows open... the wind carrying smells of the lake and campfire smoke and the promise of autumn

Thinking of my dad on the anniversary of his passing and my father-in-law on his birthday, and giving thanks I was blessed to have both in my life

Enjoying sunrises over the hill country with Belle

 

 

Dinner with friends at a floating restaurant on Lake Travis

Tom home safe from a hunting weekend with friends (and bringing home lots of pork from the wild hog he shot)

Being able to check on friends and family in Houston via Facebook during the hurricane, and knowing most of them were high and dry

Dinner with a friend/client and giving her a sign made by another friend/client who has started a business making them

 

 

Dusk on my back deck, when the frogs begin to croon, harmonizing with the cicadas and evening birds

Family and friends checking to be sure we weren't affected by the hurricane

The sight of blue sky peeking out of dark clouds after torrential rains

 

 

Autozone employees, who in less than 15 minutes had diagnosed and replaced my dying car battery

Watching the Game of Thrones finale with my kids

A walk in the rain to check on the pond and discovering the American Beautyberry bush in full color 

 

 

The great attitudes of those friends and family who did get water in their homes. They have reminded me that...

 

Happiness is an attitude. We either make ourselves miserable, or happy and strong. The amount of work is the same.

~Francesca Reigler

 

A Truly Rich Man...

I dreamed of Daddy two nights ago. He stood at a distance from me, like at the end of a hallway, a big smile on his face. And then he was beside me, giving me a hug. We talked, but I don't remember what was said. 

It was Daddy, circa 1980's or 1990's, strong and healthy, and then Mama was there, too, only I didn't recognize her at first because it was her 13-year-old self. 

Dreams can be very strange, can't they? But also very comforting. I miss my mom and dad, but I woke with a sense that they are doing just fine. 

I recently returned from a long visit with my mother-in-law, where I bumped into memories of Pop everywhere, from the carafe of chilled red wine in the refrigerator to games of cribbage and 3-13, and especially in the faces of his sons as they approach the age he was when I met him. 

How blessed I've been to have such wonderful fathers in my life, including the father of my children. None were perfect, but parenthood is a "learn-as-you-go" adventure. They did the best they could. The important thing is that they let love guide them through the uncharted waters (because each child is a new and unique territory!)

You can't go wrong with real honest-to-goodness unconditional love. 

In honor of Father's Day, here's a repeat of an old post, just because it's one of my favorites, along with this one and this one.  I hope you like it, too, and I hope all of you fathers have had a wonderful day, with the love you've given repaid back to you. 

 

What does a father do?

 

A father gives advice 

A father nourishes the body 

and soul 

A father encourages

A father is joyful

A father reads

A father lends a hand 

 

A father plays 

 

A father offers support 

 

A father sticks close by your side

 

A father makes memories

A father teaches 

A father laughs 

A father is gallant

 

A father proves age is just a number

 

A father reaches out 

A father hangs on tight

A father helps you aim high

A father shows pride 

A father sets a good example to follow

A father relaxes

A father listens

 

A father keeps you honest

 

A father helps out

 

A father loves

 

A truly rich man is one whose children run into his arms when his hands are empty.

~Author Unknown

He's still here... and other sweet!s

Tom and I once spent a week in a downtown Austin high-rise which had fabulous views of the city. It was especially beautiful at night, with the Texas State Capitol and other downtown buildings all lit up.

Unfortunately, that high-rise was Brackenridge Hospital, and Tom wasn't in any shape to appreciate those gorgeous views. He was recovering from a head-on collision that gashed his face and broke a LOT of bones. A morphine drip was his best friend that week.

Friends and family rallied around us, but one of my best friends was a spiral notebook, where I chronicled our visitors, his treatments, and my thoughts, which I gathered for my essay "In the Aftermath of a Car Wreck", eventually published in the State Lines column of the Houston Chronicle's Texas Magazine. 

I've been thinking about that experience more than ever lately, mostly because today is the 19th anniversary of his wreck, but also because Brackenridge Hospital is now empty, scheduled for demolition. All of the patients have been moved to the new Dell Seton Medical Center.

That makes me sad for some reason. I realize it was the amazing staff who saved him, not the building ... the EMTs, the surgeons, the nurses ... and I'm so grateful for them, and that they will still be around, always ready to save another life. 

But even though my memories may not seem like good ones, they are infused with gratitude for our friends and family who were there for us, who stepped in to help and encourage us; for the nurses who cared for him and allowed me to stay in his room; for the plastic surgeon's skill (the scar was barely noticeable after just one week!)

Mostly, I was simply grateful to sit there and watch him sleep, his chest lifting with every breath of life.

He's still here... and that is much more than sweet!

If you have lived, take thankfully the past.

~John Dryden

And now for a few sweet!s from this past week (I'm trying to get back on track with posting these!):

Sunday: not receiving dirty looks when all you contribute to the Women's Guild soup & salad luncheon/meeting is a bag of potato chips because you didn't have time to go to the grocery store after your husband and sons stock up for their fishing weekend out of your refrigerator; your sons and husband having an awesome time together on their boys' weekend, hiking and watching a lightning storm approach on the horizon (and then being safe in their cabin when the actual storm hit); helping a neighbor/friend celebrate his 70th birthday; his awesome birthday cake...

 

Monday: watching a duck fly through your hollow above the creek; meeting with a client and learning about her coaching business; a verbal offer on one of your listings; finally eating at County Line BBQ

 

Tuesday: writing an offer for a cute young couple; being part of a Mastermind Group, committed to helping each other grow; the culture of Keller Williams Realty... supportive rather than competitive ... where agents share their success tips with others, just to be helpful; making it to Beall's with a 40% off Clearance coupon before it expires; everyone making it home safe in a blinding rainstorm; finally noticing a rock-heart embedded in the road where you walk every morning...

 

Wednesday: A clear, cool fall-like morning in May; Belle flushing a cottontail out of the woods and across the road in front of you, with Belle oblivious to its escape; towering yuccas blooming everywhere...

 

Shopping for books for a "summer reading" basket for the Lago Vista ISD Education Foundation fundraiser and managing to resist buying every one you like; starting Italian lessons via a CD series you listen to while driving, in preparation for your trip to Italy; referrals from friends; spotting a walking stick on your back stoop...

 

Thursday: commission checks; being able to pay your bills; dinner with a long-time friend that lasts 3 hours; margaritas made with Deep Eddy's Ruby Red Vodka; an owl swooping low out of the night on your country road

Friday: meeting your son and your daughter's boyfriend for coffee; scratching a lot off of your to-do list; looking forward to celebrating your mother-in-law's birthday with her; Mountain Pinks making their appearance...

 

I hope all of you had a sweet!-filled week, with more waiting for you around the corner. Have a safe and fun Memorial Day weekend, remembering, and giving thanks for, those who believed in our freedom enough to give their lives for it. 

 

 

Just Call Me Ironmom

 

Be proud to wear you.

~Dodinsky

 

Last Saturday my oldest completed an Ironman Triathlon in the Woodlands, Texas.

He was up around 3 am to eat breakfast, left for the competition site at 5 am, and started the swimming portion at 7 am. 

Around 14 hours later, he sprinted across the finish line.

In case you're not familiar with Ironman Triathlons, here's a description, courtesy of Wikipedia...

An Ironman Triathlon is one of a series of long-distance triathlon races organized by the World Triathlon Corporation (WTC), consisting of a 2.4-mile (3.86 km) swim, a 112-mile (180.25 km) bicycle ride and a marathon 26.22-mile (42.20 km) run, raced in that order and without a break.

Ugh! Can you imagine?

And yes, he sprinted across the finish line, racing another participant. 

Crazy! I was exhausted by that point, just moving from spot to spot to catch a glimpse of him!

Sure enough, there were so many people gathered around the finish line that I couldn't see him. But a friend whose wife is an Ironman (yes- it's gender neutral!) sent me this photo from the finish line video...

 Success comes in cans, not cant's.

~Author Unknown

Just watching the Ironman was such a an inspiring experience! 

There were thousands participating, as you can see from all the bikes.

You have to expect things of yourself before you can do them.

~Michael Jordan

While Tommy is young (31) and the image of fitness (you would never know he battled severe asthma when he was young), it was clear from watching one participant after another pass in front of us that an Ironman isn't defined by age, shape, size, or gender.

I would guess the average age is around 50; one of my high school classmates was participating, although I never spotted him, and there were quite a few participants who were obviously older than I am.

Several who were finishing ahead of Tommy would probably be considered overweight, and assumed to be out of shape. We even spotted two blind participants accompanied by guides. They rode tandem bikes. 

While there are some who do this professionally, for most, it's not a race, just a personal goal. What they obviously have in common is something inside that compels them to challenge themselves in this way. 

I admit I don't understand it. I'm not even tempted to run a 5K. I'm happy just running/walking with Belle each morning along our dirt road, and will only do another 30 minutes or so on the treadmill or with my weights to keep my heart, lungs, bones, and muscles in shape for however many more years I'm blessed to be here. 

But that doesn't stop me from being so proud of Tommy, and so amazed and impressed by his accomplishment.

He made it look so easy, with a smile on his face every time we saw him. I think he was happy the day had finally arrived - he had spent months training for it - and also happy that he was getting closer and closer to having it behind him. 

It is not the mountain we conquer but ourselves.

~Edmund Hillary

 

Confidence is preparation. Everything else is beyond your control.

~Richard Kline

 

What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.

~Henry Stanley Haskins

 

If we all did the things we are capable of doing, we would literally astound ourselves.

~Thomas Edison

 

I will live the free-hand life — I will rise up at dawn, and with sure, unfaltering faith, create the day. I will come at noon, and with the assurance of a master, paint the heavens. I will come at night, and with the confidence of one who cannot fail, hang a million stars in the sky.

~Muriel Strode (1875–1964), "A Soul's Faring: XLI," A Soul's Faring, 1921

 

The day started out warm, but ended unseasonably cool. That's probably perfect for a triathlon, where you start out swimming and end up running.

It reminded me of watching him at middle school track meets on spring afternoon/evenings almost two decades ago, first sweating in the bleachers then shivering under blankets by the time the meet was over, long after sunset.

In high school, he switched to running cross country. He rarely placed at the meets, but he earned the spirit award for never giving up. 

He told us he started out the swim portion of the Ironman doing the backstroke for 1 1/2 miles. That was his event the one summer he was on the Lago Vista swim team, right after 4th grade. 

Oh my gosh, that was a long summer, having to have him (and his two younger siblings, of course) up early and at the pool every morning by 7 am. (Maybe it wasn't every morning, but it seemed like it!) And then every Saturday - every Saturday! - we had to be up and out with the whole gang before sunrise for swim meets that lasted most of the day. 

Of course, looking back now I cherish those days, but at the time... whew! 

After the first swim meet, Tommy wanted to quit. We told him he couldn't, that he needed to finish the season, but then he would never have to do it again if he didn't want to. 

So he finished the season - and never did it again.

I can't say I was sorry at the time, but now I'm grateful for those memories. We bonded with a lot of families who are still our friends today. 

Life is weird, isn't it?

Anyway, we didn't always do everything right as parents, but I like to think this is one thing we did do right... impressing on our kids that if they started something, they needed to finish it. 

Even so,  I know we really can't take credit for the drive and determination it took for Tommy to become an Ironman.  To follow through with his training after he signed up and to cross that finish line.

I do know it's pretty awesome when your kids become your inspiration and role models. (P.S. He's the best insurance agent you'll ever find!)

Don't live down to expectations. Go out there and do something remarkable.

~Wendy Wasserstein

 

Marilyn

A friend of mine died yesterday, my Aunt Becky died the day before (the last of that generation on my side of the family) and within the past couple of weeks, four high school friends have lost a parent. 

On top of that, today is my birthday, the first one since my mom died.

Naturally, I'm writing a blog post. I need to get my thoughts sorted out, and this is where I do it. It's my therapy. 

Marilyn, my friend who died yesterday morning, checked herself into the hospital a couple of weeks ago. According to her post on Facebook - from the hospital - she had googled her symptoms and thought she was just dehydrated.

It turned out she had sepsis, plus a few other issues. They put her right into ICU and sedated her so she wouldn't fight the ventilator they put in place to keep her airway open. 

So that was her last post. 

In it she mentioned being a little worried because she was the sole breadwinner (her husband is disabled) and she had already used up all of her sick days at her new job by having the flu the week before. But as usual, the post ended on a positive note, putting her trust in God to sort things out. She hoped to be back at work in a few days. 

I hope my last Facebook post ends on a positive note. 

I first met Marilyn in the summer after 4th grade at a summer school creative writing workshop. I'm not sure if we ever actually spoke... I was really shy ... but she made an impression on me. We went to junior high and high school together, but I still really didn't know her back then.

Fast forward a few decades when, thanks to the miracle of Facebook, we reconnected and discovered we had both escaped to the Texas Hill Country. She only lived a couple of hours away.

Still, we only saw each other a handful of times after that. First, at one of our Shake Russell house concerts, then at another classmates' house who lived just a few miles away. It turned out they went to the same church and didn't even realize it. 

She made it back out to my house for a surprise birthday party for another classmate. It was an official Deer Park Diva gathering.

Then we met up at the Keller Williams Mega Camp in Austin in 2014. We were both new agents. In fact, she made the decision right before I did and was a huge influence on my own decision. 

We helped each other through the tough times of starting our own businesses. Well, I think she helped me more than I helped her. She was great at listings, and was always there if I needed an ear or some advice. I was surprised when she made the decision to leave real estate a few months ago, but she felt, for her family's sake, she needed a regular paycheck and regular hours. 

It seems surreal to me that she's gone. Granted, she had some medical issues I wasn't aware of, but that's because she was always so positive and energetic. So full of life. She never complained about anything and was always quick to help anyone in need. 

I regret I didn't know her better when we were younger, but I'm grateful I had a chance to get to know her before it was too late. I also regret we didn't follow through on our many intentions of getting together again, but I'm grateful that we did see each other a few times, and I'm very grateful for the ease of communication these days, despite distances, via Facebook or email or text messaging or phone calls. 

Please keep her family in your prayers. From what I understand, Marilyn took care of everything. Her husband will be lost for quite awhile. And Marilyn, the youngest of three sisters, was still mourning the death of the middle sister from cancer. Now within a few months, the eldest has lost both of her younger sisters. I can't imagine that heartbreak.  

Because I knew that Marilyn worked so hard for her family, I started a Go Fund Me page. I felt it was the best way to help her, and now I feel it's the best way to honor her memory. If you'd like to contribute, just click on the link.  

But now back to my birthday tomorrow. While I still think of it as a gift that I've somehow made it to 58, especially when so many of my classmates have already passed away, I'm starting to think of it as more than that. It's an assignment. We are here for a reason, to somehow make this world better, even if it's just day by day. 

Marilyn did. Not in a big production, but in the way she lived, the way she loved, the way she gave. She straddled each hurdle with a smile on her face and kept going, full of faith in God and others. We may not always see the big picture, but I think if we just focus on the little picture, of being as kind, positive, and helpful as possible, the big picture falls into place.

Do small things with great love. ~

St. Theresa of Calcutta

 

Shallue Go Bragh! (revisited)

 

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

Happy St. Patrick's Day! This is mostly a repost, slightly updated, but when you can trace your husband's family back to Ireland in just a handful of generations, what else is there to blog about on St. Paddy's Day? I hope you enjoy it, even if you've read it before!

 

 

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. 

It would be extra fun to travel there with my son and daughter-in-law, Kirby, whose Irish-born grandmother left for the United States when just a teenager. She still has semi-close relatives living there. Even now, decades later, her grandmother hasn't lost her beautiful Irish accent!  

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's final resting place because every Shallue is related. There just aren't that many!

Even these very names...James, Margaret and Denis Shallue...are echoed on tombstones on both sides of the ocean.

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! But even though the American and Australian Shallues have connected on Facebook and Instagram, I still haven't gotten any clear answers about how they ended up there.

Tonight we'll be celebrating St. Paddy's Day with dear friends... the very Irish Monahans. There will be Guiness and Irish music and way too much corned beef, cabbage, potatoes, Irish soda bread, and no telling what else to eat. I can't wait!

Here's wishing all of you a happy St. Patrick's Day, too! And may God give you...

For every storm, a rainbow,
For every tear, a smile,
For every care, a promise,
And a blessing in each trial.
For every problem life sends,
A faithful friend to share,
For every sigh, a sweet song,
And an answer for each prayer.

 

One of life's sweet surprises...

 

It's hard for me to believe it now, but there was a time in my life when I wasn't sure I wanted to be a mother. I mean, kids can be so annoying and demanding! (I know I was!)

 

 

I thank God every single day that he changed my mind and blessed me with my three amazing kids, beginning with the one who turns 31 today.

Long gone are the days when I was in charge of his celebrations. He now plans his own, and with his wife's help, does a much better job than I ever did. Today he is exploring Cuba!

He promised we could celebrate together when he returns, because today is special for me, too - my 31st anniversary of becoming a mother. Truly the most life-changing, gratifying, challenging, and amazing job I could ever have imagined, even now that they are grown.

 

 

 

They continue to make me laugh, and continually amaze, challenge, encourage, inspire, motivate, support, and teach me. 

 

 

...And yes, sometimes worry me, but that's because I'm a mom, and I wouldn't have it any other way. 

So happy birthday, Tommy. May you continue to embrace and enjoy this life, and receive as much joy as you give to me and others. I hope today you are having fun adventures and collecting tons of priceless memories in Cuba, and they are just the beginning of another awesome year.

Love and thanks,

Mom

"The first fact about the celebration of birthdays is that it is a good way of affirming defiantly, and even flamboyantly, that it is a good thing to be alive." ~G.K. Chesterton

 

Where Do I Begin?

My dear, dear blog,

I have had so many good intentions of writing to you over the past few weeks, but alas, they got lost in the dust stirred up by time racing by. And now here it is, the first of December, and all I've written you since August are two little birthday posts. 

Enough is enough. It's time to catch you up on all that's been happening around here....so many things worthy of their own blog post - in my opinion, at least - but a condensed version will have to suffice.

First of all, you may remember that last year at this time my eldest was in New Zealand, celebrating his 30th birthday.

Well, guess where he is tonight? Cuba! He'll be celebrating his 31st birthday there in a couple of days, traveling to some of the smaller towns, meeting the locals, and soaking it all up. 

For him and his adventurous wife, it was a pretty spur-of-the-moment trip, although they've gotten really good at researching and planning their vacations.

For example, they explored Iceland in August via a camper van. I hadn't even gotten around to telling you about that! 

That is just not like me. 

I'm so grateful for their photos, Facebook, and their adventurous spirits. 

 

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

Tom and I took a road trip to Florida to celebrate Thanksgiving with his mom. Although I call her a couple of times a month, somehow a year and a half had passed without me seeing her in person. Tom traveled there for her birthday in May, but I just couldn't get away. (My business exploded after my mom passed away. I think she stirred things up. Thank you, Mama!)

My mother-in-law is an amazing lady, so sharp and energetic, with such a positive outlook on life. I'm determined to help her celebrate her next birthday in May. 

On this trip there was a lot of card-playing, television-watching, and sleeping. In other words, it was a true vacation! Plus, my sweet sister- and brother-in-law took me to my favorite antique/thrift store where you can still find bargains. 

And then they hosted Thanksgiving, with another brother- and sister-in-law driving up from central Florida who I hadn't seen since Pop's funeral in 2012. 

Overall it was an awesome trip. No beach...nothing exciting or fancy....but absolutely wonderful. 

The week flew by for me - and then I had to fly home. By May I plan to have systems in place that allow me to stay the whole time. 

 

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

On our way to Florida, we stopped in Houston to help one of our oldest friends celebrate his 60th birthday. Bob was in the Coast Guard with Tom, and except for Tom's roommate David (who was also at the party), Bob and his wife Lisa were the first of Tom's friends I met.

They always hosted the best New Year's Eve parties, which included silly interactive games which ensured everyone got to know each other fast... sometimes pretty intimately. 

(No, not that intimately. Totally innocent. Just sort of embarrassing, in a junior high kind of way.)

Anyway, we played them again at Bob's birthday party. It's a great way to peel away 30+ years!

No photos of the games, though, just us and our dear friends...

 

There are no friends like old friends, right? I'm very grateful for these!

 

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

My daughter-in-law turned 29 a few weeks ago. For her 30th birthday next year, they are already planning a trip to Italy, so she has been taking Italian lessons, and to celebrate her birthday, we joined her at an awesome Italian restaurant in Austin, Vespaio. 

Afterwards, we went to Cedar Street Courtyard and enjoyed a Spazmatics concert. It had nothing to do with Italy, but it was a lot of fun and worth staying up late on a Wednesday night!

 

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

 

This is a terrible photo of a photo from my 16th birthday. That's my grandmother on my right, my sister on my left, and my brother-in-law Boyce behind me. 

I was 10 when my sister went on a blind date with Boyce. Five years later they were married, and they stayed that way for a very long time. He was absolutely the funniest person I've every met, very loyal, smart, helpful... but a very complicated person. 

He loved to embarrass me, but was one of my most ardent cheerleaders, too, keeping me humble and building me up at the same time. He was one of my best friends. 

Boyce and my sister were second parents to me when my parents divorced, giving me valuable guidance, financial advice, and stability. 

But he was also bi-polar (we later realized) and it got worse as he got older. They eventually divorced, but remained friends, and he always remained my big brother, a dear friend, and one of the funniest people I've ever known. My parents adored him. 

So it broke my heart when he passed away several weeks ago after almost a year of severe illness. 

May you rest in peace, Boyce. I love you, and thank you for being such an awesome big brother. 

 

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

If you're a fan of the HGTV show Fixer-Upper, then you are familiar with Magnolia Market.

I finally got to visit it in person!

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

 

I always love helping my clients, whether buyers or sellers, realize their real estate goal or dream. But I recently had the joy of helping my son's best friend and his wife (who is also one of my son's long time friends I've watched grow up) move back to Austin from Washington D.C. and buy their first home - a really cool modern home in east Austin. 

They were so much fun to work with - they had thought it out thoroughly and knew their priorities. There was one house they kept coming back to... and they got it. I'm so grateful they let me help them in their adventure. And I'm so happy they are back in Austin!

 

I had a little adventure of my own on the way to their closing... a flat on a major highway!

I made the mistake of pulling off on the left shoulder, but fortunately an awesome Austin policeman came to my rescue. With his car, he blocked traffic on the highway so I could get across to the exit, then blocked traffic on the feeder so I could pull into an Academy parking lot. Then he proceeded to change my tire until the highway assistance truck arrived and took over. 

His name is Office Wally and he's my hero. 

 

I still made it to the closing, though, because my awesome son met me at the tire store, gave me his car, and waited there while mine was repaired. Later, he met us for brunch to celebrate the closing and we traded back.

What might have been a horrible day turned out to be wonderful, thanks to Officer Wally and Tommy. 

 

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

 

 

 

For something like 15 years, I've been retreating to the beach in Port Aransas each fall with friends. I've truly lost count of the number of years.

A few of the faces have remained the same, but every year there are some changes. 

This year was extra special because one of the ladies - who happens to be the daughter of one of the originals, but who has been joining us since she turned 21 ten years ago when we picked her up at the Corpus Christi airport and now she essentially keeps the whole thing organized... um, where was I?

Oh, yes, Lauren is expecting her first baby, so we gave her a surprise baby shower. 

That was definitely a first. 

A lot of us also went out dancing one night and witnessed some fights (and subsequently knew it was time to leave) so it all balanced out and was yet another memorable weekend that will blur together with all of the others into a blissful montage that I remember distinctly but can't keep straight from year to year. 

 

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

And that's it for now. Those are just the highlights of the past couple of months. In between these big blessings are so many small ones that are easily overlooked, and I feel guilty for not sharing those.

But I do hope you have been keeping an eye open for them. To me, they are the most powerful... the quiet reminders of hope and God's love. 

Until next time... whenever that may be. 

Love,

Barbara

 

"Let a joy keep you. Reach out your hands and take it when it runs by"

~Carl Sandburg

 

Lesson #85 (Happy Birthday in Heaven, Mama!)

 


When I asked my mom what she wanted for her birthday last year, she thought for a minute, then said "More time." 

I had a feeling it would be the last birthday we celebrated with her on earth; I think she knew it would be. And who knows... maybe she got her birthday wish. Maybe we were blessed with more time with her, and she with us, than was originally scheduled.

Even so, it doesn't feel like enough.

 

 

This morning, when I was wishing I could celebrate her birthday with her again, with Tom and the kids and my siblings and cousin Pat, it hit me that she now had more family gathered around to sing "Happy Birthday" to her in heaven than she does here on earth. 

She has Daddy, her mom and dad, all of her siblings, all of her in-laws, most of her cousins, many of her best friends, nieces, and nephews, and my father-in-law. She also has my older brother, Buster, my sister-in-law Haila, and my ex-brother-in-law, Boyce, who just passed away a few weeks ago.

(Boyce always sent the best birthday cards, anyway - I'm saving all of them I come across. I bet he has her giggling today.)

It was a wonderful image in my mind, of all of them gathered around her, and despite the ache in my heart from missing her, I smiled. 

 

 

After going through Mama and Daddy's things over the past few months, especially letters and cards from friends and family, I've learned something that goes beyond Lesson #84 ("Appreciate every second you're given, because life is beautiful.") 

We need to take advantage of every chance to spend time with family and friends, and be sure they know they can count on us if they need us. 

Because, like most of us, Mama was often irritated with one person or another. She could give Daddy the silent treatment for days if he stepped out of line... a talent I truly envy. I just can't stay mad long enough to get a point across.  

Yet, you never had to doubt her devotion or love, and I really doubt if anyone except Daddy (or her children) ever knew she was irritated at them. If you needed anything, she was there in a heartbeat.  

In fact, reading through all of the cards, flipping back through memories, you could say she was the heartbeat of the family. Everyone depended on her, and she was always there for them. 

 

 

It's a lesson that she's been teaching me my entire lifetime, but it has truly been driven home for me in the last four years, after losing so many people who are precious to me in such a short time... my father-in-law, my dad, my mom, a childhood friend, and my ex-brother-in-law (who was essentially another brother.)

Life is just too short, period. Spend time with your friends and family when you get the chance, even if you're tired and don't really feel like it. Give them a call and let them know you care. Let them know you're there if they need you.

That's really all we're here for, anyway. 

"...and you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength. The second is this: "Love your neighbor as yourself". No other commandment is greater than these. "

Mama, thank you for all the lessons you gave me, whether intentional or not. You taught more by example than words... just another clue to what a wise woman I was blessed to have as my mother. 

 

 

On her 77th birthday, I listed the things she had taught me, and I've added to it every year. So without further ado, here's the list...

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 - yours or someone else's
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.
83. smile and show appreciation to those who are willing to help you - they may have it tougher than you in many ways
84. Appreciate every second you're given, because life is beautiful.
85. Treasure the people in your life; take advantage of every chance you have to be with them, or to help them, even on days you don't like them.

    "At the end of the day, a loving family should find everything forgivable."

~Mark V. Olsen and Will Sheffer, Big Love, "Easter"

 

"All that I am or ever hope to be, I owe to my angel Mother." ~Abraham Lincoln

Love you, Mama. Happy birthday, and God bless you!  

And another year makes... 28?

 

Despite my best efforts to slow down - to catch and savor the sweet surprises of each day - the hours, the minutes, the days, and even the years are beginning to blur.

I'm actually having a tough time remembering how old my kids are!

I swear Daniel just turned 27, but I blinked, and now somehow he's 28. He didn't want a celebration and treated the day as any other, getting up and going to work and declining my suggestion that we all go somewhere for dinner in Austin because it would mean a late night and he had to get up early for work. 

Yes, my kids have grown up. 

I'm glad he at least took his big brother up on an offer for a late lunch/early dinner. Moms always hope and pray their kids will not only get along, but actually enjoy each other's company, so it made me happy to see this photo on Facebook ... even though they didn't invite me to join them. Ahem. 

 

 

I was busy making Cyclops Cookies, anyway. After the year we've had, I couldn't let the day go by without doing something special to acknowledge it. So I made an appointment with myself in the kitchen, ignored calls and emails, and made way too many cookies for just the four of us. 

Tomorrow I'll shove healthy eating in the closet again when I fry up his favorite meal - Jim Linton's Chicken Tenders. (The recipe is from a friend of ours, so the name stuck.) It's a huge flour-y, greasy ordeal, so I only make them for special occasions, and when I have enough time to scrub the whole kitchen afterwards.

It's worth it though, if it helps me express how much I appreciate him just being alive, and his thoughtful, caring soul that led him to stop and visit Mama on his way home from work at least once a week, even though that meant he wouldn't get home or eat dinner until close to 9 pm.

It meant so much to her for him to visit, and it helped ease my mind on the rare days I wasn't able to stop and check on her to know he would fill in for me.

 

 

 

 

And then to have him and TG stick beside me for hours as Mama made her way home to heaven and Daddy... it made me proud and humble and grateful, all at the same time. 

I feel honored and so truly blessed for the privilege of watching him and all of my kids grow up. They aren't perfect, thank goodness (what fun would that be?) ... but somehow, despite all the mistakes I made as their mom (and still make!) they are really, really, really good human beings. 

Celebrating the day they were born - the day I became their mom - well, that is truly a chance I can't pass up. 

 

 

Happy 28th birthday, Daniel! I hope the coming year is the best ever for you, that all of the blessings and care and thoughtfulness you bestow on others comes back to you a hundredfold!

 You don't raise heroes, you raise sons.  And if you treat them like sons, they'll turn out to be heroes, even if it's just in your own eyes. 

~Walter M. Schirra, Sr.

 

 

Memories, and other sweet!s

 

"...remember someone said that God gave us memory so that we might have roses in December...."

~J.M. Barrie, "Courage" (The Rectorial Address Delivered at St. Andrews University, 1922 May 3rd)

 

There are some days when the not-so-sweet! seems to overshadow the sweet! Yesterday was one of those days.

First, I heard of the passing of a high school classmate from a form of brain cancer. I didn't know her well in high school, but at our last reunion I had the chance to visit with her. She was an opera singer and graciously agreed to sing for a few of us at an after-reunion gathering.

Her voice was simply amazing; I can't help but think God called her home to sing with his angels. 

I don't count her death as a sweet!, of course, but the chance to finally connect with her decades beyond high school, her impromptu performance, and the magic of her voice, will remain sweet memories.

Rest in peace, Melinda, and let your voice join those of the angels...

 

 

Later in the day, I got word that one of my favorite human-beings had also passed away unexpectedly. Bill was my cousin's husband, but Sheryl is one of the oldest cousins and I am the youngest, so he had been a part of my life for as long as I could remember. His daughters are just a few years younger than I am. 

He was a hardworking, gentle giant, devoted to family and friends, especially his wife, daughters, and their families, who are truly heartbroken now, especially since Sheryl's father recently passed away, as well. 

From all accounts Bill was a reluctant Texan, always hoping to return to his beloved Colorado, but providing for his family was top priority.

I'm glad he stayed put in Texas, so that he was a frequent part of my life, but I like to think God made sure Bill's heaven looks a lot like the Rocky Mountains, like in this old photo I found in my grandmother's slides of him, Sheryl, and their firstborn. 

May you rest in peace, Bill...

 

 

An easy thing, O power divine, to thank Thee for these gifts of Thine,

For summer's sunshine, winter's snow, for hearts that kindle, thoughts that glow;

But when shall I attain to this - to thank Thee for the things I miss?

~ Thomas Wentworth Higginson

 

In every day there are going to be dark clouds that distract you from the sweet!s left in your path as a gift. Don't forget to keep your eyes open for them... and remember to say thank you!

Here are some I jotted in my journal or captured in a photo since my last post...

Hummingbirds buzzing close and hovering; feeling rested even though you woke up at 3 a.m. and couldn't go back to sleep; reconnecting with old friends on Facebook

Gorgeous, cooler summer days, after weeks of rain and/or double digit temperatures; news that someone dear to you is improved enough to move from ICU into a regular room, and that there's still hope his cancer can be beaten; Facebook reminding you of sweet mornings spent on your back deck with three of your favorite guys, who you truly miss ...

 

 

A "catch-up" email from a friend; a call from a potential buyer for one of your listings; torrential rain holding off until after your morning walk with your puppy.

A long visit with a friend after church; yummy breakfast burritos sold by the Knights of Columbus to raise money for the victims of the floods in Louisiana; a referral from a friend; rain holding off while you get to and from the grocery store; finally getting to play and snuggle with your foster-grandpuppies before they are adopted; babies who will soon be baptized being introduced to the parish

 

 

Making progress on sorting through the boxes from your parents' home that are piled in the middle of your living room, without getting emotionally overwhelmed; a referral for an out-of-town buyer from an agent/friend; dinner with friends at Stubbs Barbecue; enjoying Finite Fidelity's performance at Stubbs afterward, featuring your friend's son on the drums

 

 

 

Following through on promises; a good check-up at the dentist; memories of experiencing Hurricane Alicia in League City with your husband shortly after celebrating your first anniversary, and being grateful you suffered very little damage; a blossom finally appearing on one of your crape myrtles, thanks to all of the rain

 

 

Your friends home safe from their adventure to Rio de Janeiro to watch the Olympics; finally being able to walk your puppy after three solid days of rain; great customer service at ATT when your iPhone decides to shatter on its millionth drop; getting a listing lead from another customer while you're there

 

 

Making plans for your annual girls' weekend at the coast; your church holding a clothing drive for the Louisiana flood victims; viewing several gorgeous homes with a buyer-client, including one that made you feel you had somehow stepped through the door into Italy

 

 

Whataburger, for the first time in months; watching "Community" with your son from the beginning; finding a card your best friend sent to your parents when your grandmother passed away twenty years ago; stepping out of a meeting just in time to see this sunset...

 

 

And last but not least, the things your grandmother kept in her purse...

 

 

I hope you are always able to spot the sweet!s in your path, and that your good memories never fade...

Thirty-Four Years... wait, thirty-four years?

 

One thing you learn in a long marriage is how many sneezes to wait before saying, "Bless you."

~Robert Brault

 

 

Aren't we cute? It's hard to believe that was 34 years ago.

Well, actually what's hard for me to believe is we're 34 years older than we were in that photo! We were newly pronounced man and wife, and eager to move forward together as one, beginning with a honeymoon in the Bahamas. 

And that's how I still picture us in my mind.

 

One of the good things that come of a true marriage is, that there is one face on which changes come without your seeing them; or rather there is one face which you can still see the same, through all the shadows which years have gathered upon it.

~George MacDonald

 

Thirty-four years  have passed in a blur of laughter, tears, frustration, relief, adventure, illness, challenge, excitement, celebration, perseverance, love, forgiveness, and blessings too numerous to count. 

 

Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

~ 1 Corinthians 13:7

 

I didn't realize it at the time, of course, but looking back it's easy to see that God directed our footsteps to each other. As I mentioned in my last post, I believe God gives us what we need to get over the bumps he knows we will encounter in our lives. I also believe he provides what we need to challenge us and make us the best 'us' we can be, if we let him. 

And while I don't always see it or appreciate it enough, Tom has definitely done both for me, supporting and indulging me in my dreams ... encouraging, challenging, and believing in me when my self-confidence wavers. 

Through him, because of him, I rediscovered my faith and God's great love. And I wouldn't have survived the past few years without that. 

I can only hope Tom feels I've been more of a blessing than a curse in his life, too. I think too often he believes I have this philosophy...

I love being married. It's so great to find that one special person you want to annoy for the rest of your life.

~Rita Rudner

 

For all of you youngsters just starting out, wondering what the secret is to a long marriage, I'll confess that I'm still not sure. But I do have three tips:

1. Ask God to help you love your spouse with His love (because yours won't be enough sometimes!)

2. Procrastination can be your friend. 

3. I didn't think of this one, but it's a good one: "To keep the fire burning brightly there's one easy rule: Keep the two logs together, near enough to keep each other warm and far enough apart — about a finger's breadth — for breathing room. Good fire, good marriage, same rule." ~Marnie Reed Crowell

 

Happy 34th anniversary to my amazing, crazy, gifted, stubborn, generous Tom. I give thanks every single day for you, and for all of the beautiful, tiny threads of our life that bind us together.

 

Chains do not hold a marriage together. It is threads, hundreds of tiny threads which sew people together through the years.

~Simone Signoret

 

Getting Unstuck, and other sweet!s...

 

 

At the time of my last 'sweet' post, I mentioned going through one of the boxes of my mom's things and crying when I came across her uneaten Easter candy. In all honesty, I fell into a funk that day that I just couldn't shake... like a perpetual gray cloud was hovering above my head.

Usually those gray clouds only stick around a day. I'm pretty good at focusing on the positive out of habit. I listen mostly to Christian stations in my car (upbeat and positive, nothing depressing or sad ... music is powerful!)  and have learned to silence those negative voices in my head before they really get going.

After all, I've spent the last few years stepping forward in faith and dealing with a lot of transition - I wouldn't have survived otherwise. But even though this was a relatively thin gray cloud, it lingered for days.

And then the phrase "stuck in a moment" popped in my head. I realized that's exactly where I was - stuck in a moment that I couldn't get out of. 

I dug out a U2 CD and popped it in. The first song that played was "It's a Beautiful Day"... and it was like someone jerked aside the curtains and let sunshine into a room. Yes, it really was a beautiful day, or at least it was going to be. I was determined not to let another one get away without seeing some beauty in it.

I could sense the gray cloud thinning even more. 

"Stuck in a Moment" came on a few songs later...

You've got to get yourself together
You've got stuck in a moment and now you can't get out of it
Don't say that later will be better, now
You're stuck in a moment and you can't get out of it.

By the end of the song, that gray cloud was gone. 

I still have a mountain of my parents' things piled in the middle of my living room waiting for me to sort through. I know that gray cloud will drift in again - sometimes I can sense it there on the edge - but it's good to know U2 has my back. And it's good to feel the sunshine with no clouds blocking it. Definitely sweet!

 

 

 

I met up with two dear friends for lunch a couple of days ago in a funky little part of south Austin. While munching on Torchy's Tacos (I recommend the "Crossroads"!), we tried to cram as much conversation and cover as many subjects as possible in the short time we had. The more history you have with someone, the more ground you have to cover in a 'catch-up' session, and we all have a lot of history with each other, spanning decades.

Exactly three weeks ago I was doing the same thing, only on a grander scale and spanning a weekend, in a lake house at Lake Livingston with 16 other women I've known since at least high school, but some since elementary school. We call ourselves the Deer Park Divas, and try to get together at least once a year, but that doesn't always happen. This was the first one in a couple of years and was only possible because two of the women opened up their lake houses to us. And of course, there are many who couldn't make it.

I've hosted a couple and it's a lot of work, so I truly appreciate them putting together this therapy session... 

... because when you get together with friends who have known you for decades, you can't help but be yourself. You can pretty much talk about anything without fear of judgement because they know you... the all of you... and because everyone has been through something by now, and survived.

They remind you you will survive whatever it is you're going through at the moment. Or, you'll be able to assure someone else they will survive whatever they are experiencing, because you've been through it. 

That's the key.

No matter what it is, we're assured we can survive it, because of our friends. Divorce, cancer, death of a sibling, a husband, a child... and almost all of us have experienced the death of at least one parent. In fact, one friend lost her mother right before the weekend, and another lost her dad two weeks after, both from cancer. She couldn't stay the night because she needed to take him for a treatment early the next morning.

Yet, look... there are smiles on everyone's faces!

I have some tough, awesome, wonderful, amazing friends, don't I? I'm grateful for the history we share. 

 

 

 (This was a magnet I gave my mom years ago. She was the toughest woman I know!)

 

Another sweet!... air conditioning. Our outside temperature has been in the triple digits for days. Maybe weeks! It's just a blur of heat, sunshine, and sweat!

I can remember when my childhood home had no air conditioning. Instead, there was a huge fan in our attic (hence, we called it "the attic fan") which somehow pulled enough air through the screens of our open windows to keep us cool during those hot, humid summers in Houston.

At least it must have, because I don't remember feeling miserably, vaporously overheated like I did earlier this week when our air conditioner decided to stop working.

I'm grateful for our air-conditioner repairman who, for the third year in a row, has been able to patch up our old system to get us through the rest of summer. We will definitely get a new system this fall. I think our repairman is as relieved as we are!

 

Those are the three major sweet!s of the past few weeks. Here are a few others ...

 

 

Visiting your mom's aides and noticing her rose bush is surviving the hot, dry summer outside the nursing home where she lived.

A friend passing her real estate exam!

A cooler-than-normal morning when your air conditioner breaks

 

Driving around a funky south Austin neighborhood with one of your forever friends, admiring the eclectic architecture

Sitting on your back porch with your puppy watching the sun splash over your hollow, letting the busy birds entertain you

Receiving wonderful reviews from past clients

A client offering a cool room for the night at their home when your air conditioning is out

 

Noticing gorgeous sunsets before they disappear

Playing a part in helping a friend in Greece sell their property

Your puppy playing a joke on you by stealing your shoes while you're in the shower

Helping out with a memorial service at your church for the family of a parishioner who passed away

 

The arrival of  your Cheesy Sauce from The Honest Stand, a company that a dear friend's son helped create

Phone calls with your sister, mother-in-law, sister-in-law, and dear friends

Reconnecting with a friend from your childhood neighborhood on Facebook

A cardinal nest in a tree right outside your front door

 

 

Getting to visit with a sweet friend from high school while showing property to her and her husband

Spending a day showing property to a new out-of-state client

Finding out a "neighbor" was caught stealing electricity through an illegal wire and stopped before he "accidentally" set fire to your neighborhood

Having other neighbors who help keep an eye on your neighborhood

 

A chance to visit with another dear high school friend while she's in town visiting her sister

Rain, even if it's just lasts a day

New listings

A stranger in the grocery store noticing, and taking the time to warn you, that a man is showing a lot of interest in you before he has a chance to steal your purse

 

Morning walks with your daughter, your puppy, and the neighbor's dogs while the neighbors are away on vacation

Kittens... their playfulness, purring, and sandpaper kisses

Paychecks

A former client referring you to someone he sees buying a For Sale By Owner sign in your local Ace Hardware store. 

 

Finding a blue feather from a Mexican Jay

Celebrating your baby girl's 25th birthday

A hummingbird discovering your hibiscus bud

Publishing an article about your little town

Finally finishing a blog post you've worked on little by little for three days!

 

If you stuck with this until the end, thank you!!

I hope this coming week overflows with sweet! moments, memories, and music that lifts you up!

 

"And I am glad to see, that you have also put to flight the gloomy thoughts which used to haunt you. I like to see people cheerful and happy. What is the use of giving way to sadness in this beautiful world?"

~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Hyperion, A Romance, "The Evening and the Morning Star," 1839

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Last First 25 Years...

 

"The first fact about the celebration of birthdays is that it is a good way of affirming defiantly, and even flamboyantly, that it is a good thing to be alive."

~G.K. Chesterton, "Our Birthday," 1935

 

 

TG turned 25 two weeks ago. She spent it floating the San Marcos River with her boyfriend, brothers, sister-in-law, and other friends, while I snuck away for a weekend with my Divas  at Lake Livingston.

But she let us celebrate it when I returned with her favorites: pizza, chocolate cake (courtesy of my daughter-in-law) and a surprise bottle of champagne, because she really never asks for anything.

Only fitting for a first quarter century birthday, right?

 

 

However, I've felt like a terrible mom and blogger that I haven't wished her a happy birthday here yet, as I always do. But I've been trying to sort out my thoughts about my baby - my youngest baby - turning 25. It's a true milestone for both of us!

I can't put it off any longer, though. I'll just try my best to sort them out now...

 

 

She was my last baby. But from the time a baby draws its first breath, it begins growing up, a steady progression from infant to toddler to pre-teen to college student to grown-up. There's nothing you can do to stop it, even if you wanted to.

But why would you want to? Each age of your child is an amazing thing to behold, even when they get so grown it makes you realize how old you are and how fast your life is flying by. 

 

This past year has been one of transition and clarity. When I realized my mom was going downhill... when I  sensed that my time with her on earth was limited... my focus shifted to just being there for her, making sure she knew she wasn't alone. 

Looking back, I can see that TG shifted her focus at the same time, whether she knew it or not... except it was to be there for me, to be sure I knew I wasn't alone as my mother drifted further away from me.

So instead of sad memories filling those last few months, I remember a lot of bantering and teasing and my mother's eyes lit with joy at the sight of her beautiful, funny, smart granddaughter. There are memories of us laughing at corny Hallmark movies, Walker-Texas Ranger, and the Golden Girls, and of getting up earlier than normal on Sunday mornings to maneuver Mama's wheelchair into the chapel for Baptist services.

I'll never forget TG passing out hymnals, charming the other residents, and holding up her hymnal where Mama could see it. 

It had been TG's idea to attend the services with Mama, so it's to her that I'm eternally grateful for my last "truly alive" memories of Mama: the feel of her hand clinging to mine while three generations sang the hymns of my childhood together. 

And then, of course, TG and Daniel were both there beside me during that long night in the hospital as I said my last goodbye to Mama. They were no longer children needing my attention,  just there for me and their grandmother ... friends supporting us and helping me have strength to be there for my own mom as she traveled past the pain of this life. 

The thing is (as my mother loved to say)... somewhere along the way, when I wasn't looking, my babies grew up.

And it's an amazing thing to behold. 

 

Happy 25th birthday, TG!

I hope the next quarter century is filled with love, laughter, and wonderful memories.

Your sweet soul deserves it.

I love you, precious girl. 

"A daughter is a little girl who grows up to be a friend." ~Author Unknown

  

Slide Projectors and other sweets

 

 

Last Saturday night I pulled out my grandmother's slide projector, propped it on my kitchen table, and went back in time through the images splashed on the wall above our stairs. 

Most I had never seen before, like the one above of my grandmother standing in a field of bluebonnets. What you are seeing is actually an iPhone capture of the projection on my wall. I felt the need to share these with my siblings and cousins, and that was the fastest way.

The quality was greatly diminished, of course, but I felt it gave them the same dreamy quality I was feeling as they carried me back to my childhood.  To me, this one looks more like a painting than a photograph. Don't you think so?

One of my cousins (the one on the left in the image below) has offered to scan all of these. She is also the one who regularly visited my mom, always bringing new clothes and treats, so her generous offer doesn't surprise me. I am blessed to have her!

(The beauty on the right is my big sister. The little brat in the middle is me, of course.)

 

 

In my opinion, that was definitely a sweet way to spend a Saturday night, and the gratitude and reactions from my family even sweeter.

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

 

A tiny hummingbird appears to have taken up residence off of our back deck.

Since I no longer keep a hummingbird feeder, this seems strange to me.

(I read several years ago that the sugar-water can turn rancid really fast in the extreme heat of our Texas summers, potentially poisoning the little birds. It's necessary to change out the water often, and I don't trust my memory to do so.) 

So the semi-regular sightings of this busy little bird is such a joy. Several times it has flown close to me as I stand saying my prayers near the railing, and this morning it flew up to my library window, just a couple of feet away from me at my desk. 

My mother was partial to hummingbirds. I like to think she somehow has a hand in sending this one to say hello... and make me smile.

(How can you not smile when you see a hummingbird?)

 

I have no photos of it, but I do have this one of Lake Austin taken from a home an agent friend was holding open this afternoon.

I was on my way home from showing properties to a high school friend's son, so I decided to stop and say hi to my agent friend, and check out the listing. Three sweet!s in one trip!

 

 

I'm still working my way through the mountain of my mom's things in my living room. Yesterday's box was full of some items from her room at the nursing home.

Overall, I'm at peace with her passing. But for some reason emptying this box made me acutely aware of the physical absence of her from my life, especially seeing her Bible bag, which contained both her and Daddy's Bibles, along with several notes tucked in the pages, and also a cardboard Easter egg box I gave her full of Hershey's miniatures this past Easter. There were still several pieces of candy left. 

Now, I believe in heaven, and I know it is much better than chocolate. And I truly am happy that Mama is at peace and with Daddy now. But the tears came anyway, and I let them. 

I still count this as a sweet!, because to miss someone, they first had to be a part of you. To feel sorrow or sadness, you must have also felt joy and happiness and love.  

They were and I did. Amen. 

 

 

I had a second article published in TexasHillCountry.com called "Beyond the Bluebonnets - 5 Other Things You Should Know About Willow City", about a small town near Enchanted Rock, one of my favorite places. Yay!

Going to my office to pick up a commission check and discovering another one I hadn't expected!

Another University of Texas mom calling me for help, based on referrals from other parents.

 

One of my clients had specific requirements and a busy work-travel schedule. After working with her off and on for about a year, we finally closed on a property last week that turned out to be just what she was needing.  

We won in a multiple offer situation, so that was doubly sweet! To celebrate, we had lunch at the Shady Grove, one of my favorite restaurants. 

(This photo is of the back of the restaurant - taking a photo was an afterthought! But look at that tree!)

Summer nights... refreshing, soft breezes, stars speckling the sky, cicadas and frogs singing in the background. 

 

As usual, there were a few lakefront properties on the Lago Vista property tour this past week. I never get tired of seeing a full Lake Travis! 

Giving another agent a ride on the tour and getting to know her better.

Some friends from my church warning me they are trying to convince some friends in California it's time to move to Austin and want me to help them when the time comes. 

 

 

I spent the 4th of July outside, but not out on the lake or even in a park eating hot dogs and hamburgers. I took advantage of a holiday (and the sudden motivation) to mow our small front yard, organize my yard signs, and just generally clean up around the outside of our house.

Most importantly, I discovered the joy of a power blower! I had so much fun clearing the clippings and dead leaves off the porch floor... and then the small insect webs off the ceiling!

I didn't know it could do that! Much better than using a broom. 

Afterward, I rewarded myself with a Shiner Ruby Redbird beer on the porch swing. I don't normally drink beer, but it just seemed like the patriotic thing to do. 

(It was awesome!)

 

Despite the national tragedies of this past week, I hope all of you had plenty of sweet! moments. But more importantly, I hope you rededicated yourself to love and forgiveness, including forgiving the inexcusable. I believe it will take each of us doing that to attain true peace in our country and the world.

The only people with whom you should try to get even are those who have helped you. 

~John E. Southard

 

 

A few truly rich men I have known ...

 

A truly rich man is one whose children run into his arms when his hands are empty. ~Author Unknown

 

 

On one of the last visits I had with my Daddy before he passed - maybe even the last one - his face lit up in a smile at the sight of me and he hugged me tighter than I've ever been hugged before or since. 

If I close my eyes, I can still see that smile and feel his arms around me, holding on as if he never wanted to let me go. Just another gift from my sweet Daddy to add to my treasured memories. A gift that soothes me on days like today and triggers gratitude from every pore of my body that God blessed me with that man as my father. 

 

He didn’t tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it. ~Clarence Budington Kelland

 

 

God also blessed me with an amazing father-in-law. I didn't get to see him as much as my own father, but we were blessed to spend a lot of time with him and Mom, visiting at their home in Maryland and then Florida, traveling with them through Wisconsin, Yellowstone National Park, and Mexico, or having them visit us in Texas. 

After raising 9 boys, he loved each one of us daughters as his own, showing a softer side to us than he ever showed to his sons, I'm sure.

A month before his passing, we joined most of Tom's brothers and their families to celebrate Mom and Pop's 60th wedding anniversary. Pop hadn't been feeling well, but I managed to tease a bit of a smile out of him for the photo above. I had no idea it would be the last one I would ever take of him - or that the goodbye hug I received a day or so later would be the last.  That smile was a gift from him that I cherish, along with all of the others.

 

 

If your father is still around, available to hug or tease or photograph, don't pass up those opportunities. It may not be your last chance, but you'll be grateful for every single one you are able to stash away for later.

Believe me, "later" eventually shows up. 

 

On Father's Day, I also give thanks that God brought Tom into my life to be the father of my children, the three best gifts he's ever given me, even including the drums. 

They were all here today to celebrate him, not with store-bought gifts or cards (he thinks they are a waste of money) but with their cooking skills (a bacon and egg breakfast, followed by grilled hamburgers for lunch), their voiced appreciation, and their time, which is about the best gift a child can give their parent... or themselves.

I didn't snap any photos today, but here's a blast from the past...

 

 

For more Father's Day reflections, please read, "Dear Daddy" and "What a Father Does..." I hope you enjoy them! Be sure to share a favorite dad memory with me in the comments. 

If you are a dad, then I hope you have had a wonderful Father's Day!

Dad, your guiding hand on my shoulder will remain with me forever. ~Author Unknown

 

 

A Triple Celebration Day... and other sweet!s

 

 

Starting a sweet! journal was a great idea! For once, I've remembered to record them every day.

(At least for three weeks. But I think that's a record.)

I keep the journal open on my bathroom counter. Every evening I'm reminded to reflect on the day and the blessings I've received. It's funny how I might have to dig deep to think of the first one, but once it's out in the open, others start popping up with little effort. 

This past Saturday was sweet! all day long, because I spent the day celebrating happy occasions with friends.  It started with the wedding of a beautiful woman at our church... someone who is energetic and passionate and always giving of herself. I'm so glad she found someone who can obviously see and appreciate how beautiful she truly is.

 

 

I had time to witness the very moving ceremony (I don't usually cry at weddings, but when the groom choked up at this one, my eyes welled up along with his!) and visit with a few friends at the reception before heading down the road to a bridal brunch. 

 

 

You probably don't remember this, but back in September I attended the 30th birthday surprise party for a dear friend's daughter who I've watched grow up, and who has herself become a friend through a decade of sharing Port Aransas adventures.

Well, 30 turned out to be her best birthday ever! Her boyfriend, who was supposed to be in Iraq, showed up, dropped to his knee, and proposed to her. 

I get goosebumps just thinking about it again!

Instead of waiting for him to return again in a few months to have a big, fancy wedding, those two snuck off alone to the courthouse to get married before he headed back to finish up his tour. 

She missed out on all of those fun pre-wedding bridal showers, so a few of her friends decided to host a bridal brunch for her.  It was mermaid themed, and overflowed with adorable decorations and goodies to eat.  Plus, she got a lot of great gifts!

 

I was able to stay until the very end before hitting the road again, this time headed for Houston to attend a retirement party for Gene, a wonderful friend who started at DuPont a year after I did. He and another friend who attended, Larry, were like big brothers to me, and sweet! really doesn't describe how awesome it was to see them again and have a chance to share memories and laughs with them. It's amazing how forty years can just peel away in a heartbeat. 

 

There was an extra sweet! surprise during the party I hadn't anticipated. So serendipitous it still amazes me! Gene and his wife had several tables set up under a tent outside, each themed with places they want to visit. I was at the Texas table with a lot of people I didn't know. I introduced myself and asked how everyone knew Gene.

One of the women told me I looked familiar. I asked for her name. She told me, then introduced her husband. While her name didn't sound familiar, his triggered a memory. I leaned to get a good look at him around the centerpiece made of boots and a hat. 

"Were you a welder for H.B. Zachry years ago at the USI plant?"

He nodded. 

"I was your welder's helper. For two months in 1978, anyway. I remember you because you were such a nice guy. Thank you!"

It seems kind of amazing to me now that I've remembered his name, and even his face, all of these years. I only worked there two months, and I wasn't actually his dedicated welder's helper. I mostly roamed around at the end of the day gathering the 'weld count'. During the day my supervisors had me sit in the welding shack, checking out tools. In reality, they had me there to guard against theft. There were a lot of unscrupulous people working there, a lot of 'edgy' characters. 

I don't remember any of their names, but I remember Bobby. He was a good guy, plain and simple. He stood out from the rest without doing anything at all, except being nice and polite and normal. Maybe we had some conversations, but I've forgotten them now. Just knowing he and one or two other nice guys were out there made me feel safe.

But I was still grateful to leave that construction site behind!

Anyway, it felt like I had come full circle in some way. 

 

There's another sweet! surrounding this whole weekend.  For years, I stayed with my parents when I came back to Houston for reunions or other events. I never had to think twice about it.

That's no longer an option.

However, I have a sweet friend who always opens her door to me, as long as they are in town themselves. I get my own room in their beautiful home. On this trip I was grateful to have time before and after Gene's party to relax and visit with her... and with her puppies, Millie, Maybe, and the magnificent Maverick.

Isn't he gorgeous?

He loves me. 

Well, he loves anyone who pays him attention.

 

I made a quick stop at my childhood home to retrieve a small chest that fit in my car that  I realized I could use. This time, as many times before, I knew there was a very good chance it was my last visit.

Each time gets a little easier. This was the third time in two weeks I've been there, but I'll save that for another post, along with quite a few other sweet!s. 

Because it's now after midnight and time for bed.

And it's also my birthday. Sweet! Have a wonderful Wednesday!

 

"The first fact about the celebration of birthdays is that it is a good way of affirming defiantly, and even flamboyantly, that it is a good thing to be alive."

~G.K. Chesterton

 

First Came Love...

First came love...

 

 

Then came marriage...

 

 Then came Tommy in a baby carriage!

(After a few years of pre-children fun, of course. And a new perm.)

 

 

Okay, you can't really see Tommy in that one, but trust me, he's in there.

Here's a better one.

 

 

Oh my gosh, isn't he precious?

 

He's come a long way... from slides on his first birthday...

 

 

...to bungee-jumping in New Zealand on his 30th.

This is afterward. I appreciate them letting everyone know they survived!

(He's the one in front on the right.)

 

 

Happy 30th anniversary of Tom and me becoming parents, and happy 30th birthday to my oldest baby! 

 

Lesson #84 (Happy birthday, happy Friday the 13th, and thank you, Mama!

 

 "You must have been a beautiful baby..." ~Johnny Mercer

 

 

Last week I asked my mom what she wanted for her birthday. She stared off for a few seconds, then looked at me and said "More time."

But there was a twinkle in her eye, and her mouth turned up in a grin as she added, "Can you tell I live in the present?"

What a wise woman. 

Even now, anchored to an oxygen machine, rarely leaving the small room she shares with another woman, and having to rely on others for even the simplest things, like having a glass of water near enough to drink, Mama finds enough joy in life to want to stick around awhile longer.

I know it isn't because she's afraid of death. My mom is a Christian. She has taught me all my life - and I know she believes it most of the time - that there is life after death, much more beautiful than this one, free of pain and sorrow. Most of her loved ones have gone before her...her parents, siblings, her firstborn, and her beloved husband.  

Despite what her life appears to be to us, she is still loving it. Her smile is always close to the surface, and she laughs often, finding joy in the simplest things. She loves her aides and nurses, her cups of coffee, her cookies, and the photos of Daddy, her kids, grandkids, and great-granddaughter hanging on the walls.

She does NOT like being told what to do, but that's understandable after years of being such an independent woman and caregiver to others.

For her sake - actually, for mine - I hope she gets her birthday wish, and that she finds joy in every extra second she is given. I believe she will. I know I will.

And in her honor, I will try my best not to waste a single second of the time I'm given with remorse or regrets of the past, or with wishing away my today for some future moment that may never come.

And I will continue to keep my eyes open for even the simplest sweet!s. Today they will include picking up some fried shrimp for her birthday dinner, then gathering with family to celebrate her and give thanks that she's in our lives.

 

 

On her 77th birthday, I listed the things she had taught me, and I've added to it every year. So without further ado, here's the list...

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 - yours or someone else's
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.
83. smile and show appreciation to those who are willing to help you - they may have it tougher than you in many ways
84. Appreciate every second you're given, because life is beautiful.

 

(from last year's celebration) 

They're not gray hairs. They're wisdom highlights.

~Author Unknown

 P.S. Happy Friday the 13th anniversary to my husband!

Reflections on Veteran's Day

They are all around you, disguised as ordinary people. They may be generous or grouchy, quiet or boisterous, socialites or loners.  They come in all colors, sizes, and ages. They are our veterans... those who gave anywhere from three to thirty years of their lives, doing whatever our country needed them to do, wherever they were told to go. 

Tonight our church held a special dinner in their honor; at the end, each veteran was asked to give their name and tell a little about their service. I felt very humbled and grateful. My mind naturally drifted to those veterans I hold most dear, and I realized I hadn't yet published my annual tribute to them...

 

 

"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 that 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, plus numerous cousins, nieces, and nephews. 

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, James...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.

"Freedom is never free."  ~Author Unknown

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

Many at tonight's dinner brought up, with much pride, the current service of their sons and daughters, which reminded me of TG's boyfriend's Air Force graduation back in September. He's from a military family himself - his parents met while they were both in the Army. He's well aware of the commitment he's made.

So I'd like to thank TG's B and all of the others who are continuing to step up to fill those ranks for our country. I hope we all continue to show them the support they deserve. 

 

"This nation will remain the land of the free only so long as it is the home of the brave."

 ~Elmer Davis

 

Oh, October...

 

 

 

Yes, I realize we're already a third of the way through November, but I'm still recovering from October. Was it just me, or did October take more than it's fair share of the year? It seemed much longer than 31 days. 

Granted, my October dance card was not just full, but taking backups. But still... "busy" usually makes time pass faster, as in "Gosh, where did October go?" (That's the way November is for me right now, just flying by. Slow it down!)

 

 

But this year, even though it's one of my favorite months - if not THE favorite - by the end of it I was saying "It's still October??" 

 

 

I mean, really, who can resist October? The weather is usually perfect - warm days, cool evenings, low humidity. (At least here in the Texas hill country.)

There's a golden glow over everything, including the purple and yellow wildflowers that flourish along the roadsides. It's like spring sprinkled with fairy dust.

 

 

And this October couldn't have started any better, with that gorgeous weather and my annual women's weekend in Port Aransas.

 

 

The beautiful weather held on for our church's annual Oktoberfest the next weekend. 

As if that wasn't enough, less than a week later, I boarded a plane for the first time in more than a decade, headed for Chicago to help celebrate a friend's daughter's wedding. Again...beautiful weather, albeit quite a few degrees cooler.

 

 

 

I experienced my first real deep-dish Chicago-style pizza. YUM!

Then just a few days after my return home, three dear friends visited Austin. Gray clouds and drizzle had replaced the blue skies, but it didn't stop us from getting together at some yummy restaurants for plenty of catching up. 

 

 

However, by the time Sunday rolled around, the rain had not only continued to fall, but it had broken records! My excitement over finally seeing Elton John perform live waned in direct proportion to the number of inches that fell.

I had imagined his concert under a gorgeous, star-filled Texas-in-autumn sky, not under an umbrella, shivering, stomping around in mud. 

So when my compadres changed their minds about going, I wasn't that upset about staying home. I needed to write up an offer for clients, anyway, which probably doesn't seem like much fun to you, but is pretty dang exciting for me!

I'm sure exhaustion and age played a huge part in our decisions, and the terrible weather just pushed us over the edge. My friends were both in Chicago with me (one was the mother of the bride!)

Plus business went bonkers for me in October - yay! No complaints there! New clients, new contracts, closings... all answers to many prayers, and despite falling splat into the middle of such a crazy-busy month, I was - and still am - very grateful.

 

 

October was as full of emotional extremes as it was weather extremes. There were all of these good times with friends, but I also gathered with friends to grieve.

There was Father Joe's death. He had helped guide me into the Catholic Church. I could talk to him about anything.

Then my ex-brother-in-law became seriously ill and spent days in ICU. Despite his flaws, he remains one of my favorite people and probably the funniest person I know, and I've been really worried about him. He's home now, but I'm not sure he's getting better.

Before October took its final bow, a dear friend's mom passed away unexpectedly. She was one of our childhood moms, who had watched us grow from elementary school slumber parties to proms to being moms ourselves, hosting slumber parties for our own kids. I made an overnight trip to Houston for the funeral, stopping by my own childhood home before heading back to Austin. 

 

 

I'm still trying to pay attention to the sweet!s in my life, and since my phone (essentially, my office!) rarely leaves my hand, I've been doing it more and more through photos, posting to Instagram and Facebook, and sometimes through words on a list on my phone. 

So here are a few more from the end of October...

Letting your puppy talk you into walking before the sun is up so you catch the first glow of sunrise ... a glimpse of zebras in the Texas Hill Country ... a roadrunner crossing in front of you ... a full moon waiting up for you ... clouds painting the sky...

 

 

Pink clouds...

 

 

A surprise in the mail from Jennifer at Ripplespeak... 

 

 

And the welcoming glow of home.

 

 

May your November already be overflowing in sweet!s!

Then summer fades and passes, and October comes. Will smell smoke then, and feel an unsuspected sharpness, a thrill of nervous, swift elation, a sense of sadness and departure.

~Thomas Wolfe

Happy birthday, Daddy!

 

My Daddy's been gone two years now, so it's truly a blessing that I can still see him in my mind, alive and well, with eyes twinkling. Even now, I turn to him in tough times and hear his voice encouraging me.

Photographs and blog posts help keep his memory fresh. I've spent the past twenty minutes reading over some old ones. My favorites are "Dear Daddy" and "When Wishes Come True", but "A Blessed Birthday" is bittersweet. It was the last birthday he celebrated on earth. 

I suspected it might be when I wrote it. 

My daddy was a great man. Of course, I didn't realize it for most of my life, because he wasn't great in the worldly way, and not even in the obviously spiritual way. He was humble. He didn't like a lot of attention aimed at him. But he was funny and generous and hardworking.

Most importantly, he loved with all of his heart, fiercely and unconditionally, hanging on despite the inevitable pain that love like that brings. That's true strength, I believe, and I want to live and love like that.

 

 

Thank you, Daddy. I love you and miss you and give thanks for you every day. May you be celebrating every day in heaven!

 

There’s something like a line of gold thread running through a man’s words when he talks to his daughter, and gradually over the years it gets to be long enough for you to pick up in your hands and weave into a cloth that feels like love itself.

~John Gregory Brown, Decorations in a Ruined Cemetery, 1994

 

Tonight, please keep another Father of mine in your prayers. Twenty years ago, when I knew it was time to make up my mind about becoming Catholic, Monsignor Joseph Schmitt, the pastor of our small church, agreed to meet with me one-on-one every Tuesday to answer my questions.

After a few months, I was confirmed a Catholic... and was quickly recruited by him to teach CCD. I often covered for the church secretary, so I spent many days working alongside him, having lively discussions over lunch, and then serving beside him on our church planning committee. He offered blessings on our vacations, comfort when we were in pain, and advice when we felt lost. 

 

Just a few months younger than my dad, Father Joe's health has been steadily declining. He's been in the hospital several days now and isn't expected to recover. I'm grateful I was able to stop and see him yesterday... to tell him thank you and let him know how grateful I am that he was a part of our lives. 

Please pray for peace and comfort, for him and his family. Thank you!

Blessed indeed is the man who hears many gentle voices call him father!

~Lydia M. Child, Philothea: A Romance, 1836

How do you hug a house?

 

So, house, we love thee, as we could not love
A palace wherein no pulse of love had struck,
Where farewells had not been—and where
No busy memories haunt the vacant rooms.
~J.J. Britton (1832–1913), "A Home"

 

 

 

I'm nearing the end of this summer's journey of clearing out my parents' home.

My childhood home. 

 

 

What began as a heavy weight upon my heart turned into a mission of love. I admit that when I began this project I was irritated they my parents hadn't taken me up on my many offers to help them sort through closets and boxes. 

I vowed I wouldn't leave a task like this for my kids. 

 

 

 

But it turned out to be a cathartic experience, after all...  the sorting, the remembering (thanks to my sister!) ... it all awakened a flood of happy memories centered in that simple house.

 

 

 

 Plus, I felt I was repaying my parents, doing something for them that they couldn't do for themselves. It had usually been the other way around. 

Although, it turns out Daddy had been doing a little sorting. The attic, a place I had feared all of my life and dreaded peering into during this process, turned out to be totally empty.

Thank you, Daddy!

 

Now I'm not so worried about leaving a project like this for my kids. (Sorry, kids! Blame your grandparents!)

But don't worry... I definitely plan to weed through and toss (I have way more stuff than my parents!) but I can see how the process can be a healing one.

As a good parent, how can I begrudge my children a healing experience?  

 

 

My kids were awesome, though, all three coming with me when they could, and even TG's boyfriend one Saturday, cleaning and sorting, and helping to carry furniture. Daniel is the one who actually braved the attic and saw that the coast was clear.  Whew!

And Tom is the one who truly helped lift the weight off my heart and helped me  begin to move forward; he whirled from room to room like the Tasmanian Devil, cleaning out pantries and drawers, making more progress in one day than I had in a week's worth of Saturdays.

None of us looked forward to the four-hour drive there and back every Saturday this summer, much less the three to four hours spent there sweating in an un-air-conditioned home in the Houston suburbs, in the hottest part of the day, in the hottest part of a Texas summer.

Ugh.

It was exhausting.

 

 

But my parents were extraordinary in so many ways, and again, I'm grateful we could do this for them. I'm glad their last days in the house were spent as if they would go on there forever, not spent sorting and preparing for the day they would no longer be there. 

 

 

It helped that most of the large pieces of furniture went to friends... or friends of friends. Who became new friends.

I took photos as we said goodbye, which in some weird way helped me let go.

I've already written about my grandmother's piano... 

 

 

Daddy's chair went to a young dad-to-be. I think Daddy would like it that it would be used to rock a baby. He loved babies.

 

 

The kitchen table was another tough one. So many holiday meals, school projects, and breakfasts by Daddy with my kids. 

So many hours reading Tarzan or Nancy Drew, and so many gallons of coffee consumed while just talking, talking, talking...

Oh, the stories that table could tell!

But... I didn't need the table. Honestly, it was stained with so much newspaper ink I knew it would need a good refinishing, and the last thing I needed was another project.

I'm satisfied to have my memories and hundreds of photos of holiday meals, breakfasts with Daddy, and birthday celebrations around it.

 

 So I said goodbye.

It's going to a new friend's mom's house, where I hope it will be the center of many happy memories-in-the-making.

 

 

But to answer my own question: "How do you hug a house?"

One way is to turn an estate sale into a celebration, where friends buy your furniture, keep you company, and bring wine to toast the awesomeness of growing up in a home that overflowed with love, where the good memories overpowered the bad ones by far.

 

 

Thank you, Rae, for making sure we celebrated instead of mourned. And thank you to all of the other friends who bought furniture, helped with the estate sale, or just stopped by to say hello on one of those Saturdays. It truly carried us through this. 

 

 

 

If you're faced with this journey, my advice to you is to embrace it. See it as the mission of love that it is, a last gift to your parents. Dive into the memories and embrace them, the good and the bad, because they are what made you distinctly you. 

Don't be afraid to hang on to too many photos or knick knacks. If there's any hesitation whether to keep it or toss it, just keep it. You can toss it later. It doesn't matter when you do it. It can be a process. 

But also realize that goodbyes are okay. Those objects did their job. They were part of your parents' lives - or your grandparents' lives or your brother's life, as in my case. They already served a purpose or brought joy.

They don't necessarily have to be a part of your life.

But I'm grateful for the memories I have, and the ones my sister can share with me, since she's older. I'm also so grateful I had her right beside me on this journey.

 

 

And I'm extremely grateful for all of the photographs I've inherited, along with the ones I've taken. They will keep that sweet old house alive even after we say our final goodbye.

 

 

You can never go home again, but the truth is you can never leave home, so it’s all right.

~Maya Angelou

On a Friday the 13th...

 

Thirty-three years. That's officially how long Tom and I have been married as of this evening, around 6 or 7 pm.

And they said you couldn't find lasting love in a bar...

 

...No more looking for love in all the wrong places
Looking for love in too many faces
Searching your eyes, looking for traces
Of what.. I'm dreaming of...
Now that I found a friend and a lover
God bless the day I discover 
You, oh you, lookin' for love.

~Wanda Mallette and Patti Ryan

 

(For our first dance as a married couple, we chose "Looking for Love in All the Wrong Places."  Yes, really! And I still love that song!)

They also said getting married on a Friday the 13th was bad luck...that once Tom graduated from college with his degree he'd dump me...that building a house together was suicide for a marriage...

We proved them all wrong.

At least for thirty-three years, now, anyway. If I've learned one thing since my wedding day, it's to not take your love or marriage for granted. To say we've had our ups and downs is putting it mildly...and it can turn in a heartbeat.

But if it ended tomorrow, I'd have no regrets. Meeting Tom that fortuitous night in the Diamondback Saloon was a blessing...a seed that continued sprouting and blooming into a garden of blessings.

I'm so grateful for each and every one of these thirty-three years...even the bad ones, because they helped me appreciate the good ones.

 

photo by bloom photography

 

(I've also learned that thirty-three years can go by really fast!)

Happy 33rd anniversary to the love of my life!

...But the greatest of these is love.

~1 Corinthians 13:13

(This is a slightly edited re-post from another anniversary a few years ago, if it sounds familiar, but it's all still true!)

 

Sharing delights. And sorrows, too.

 

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

 ~Pam Brown

For a few years, my sister and I shared the small room above.  It was painted a pale purple at the time.

It was in this room that I remember watching "The Wizard of Oz" on a tiny television during one of the many times I was sick with asthma, and I remember lying in bed struggling to go to sleep on a Christmas Eve because my brother and sister swore they heard jingle bells outside the window and I was afraid Santa would pass us by because I was still awake. 

Later my sons shared this room when we came to visit. A friend recently bought the twin beds my boys slept in for her own grandkids. My sister took the small table that sat between them and I brought my mom's cedar chest home with me. 

Now it's empty, except for that lamp.

Except... it's not empty. I still see our full size bed with its spread and matching shams of purple roses. I see our twin beds made into trundles, with a little play space under one, filled with my stuffed animals. I see my boys snuggled under their blankets in their twin beds, a lamp on and books open, reading into the night and sleeping late the next day. 

For the past few months, I've spent every Saturday at my parents' home, sorting through drawers and boxes and cabinets, trying to decide what to keep, what to toss, and what to sell. 

But I haven't been alone. Through it all, my big sister has been by my side, as she always has when I've gone through something tough, helping to make a job I dreaded turn into a mission of love. A catharsis. I couldn't have done all of this without her help and support. Because of her I'm able to see that the love that was borne in that house will never fail.  It's still there, but it's also in us. It's eternal. 

I'm so grateful for her and for the hours I've been able to spend with her this summer, one Saturday at a time. She is truly proof that God loves me. 

Today is her birthday. I hope it overflowed in blessings because she deserves to get back at least some of what she's given over the years.

Happy birthday, Brenda! I love you!

Please go here and here to read more about my beautiful sister. 

 

 

New Beginnings

 "Every goodbye is a new beginning."

~ me (and probably a bunch of other people)

This afternoon I said goodbye to an old friend: my grandmother's piano. A friend from high school bought it for her granddaughter. She met me at my parents' home today and I helped her load it onto a trailer. 

(A neighbor, Jack, and Kevin, a stranger Shelia met down the street who drove a medical equipment delivery truck so Shelia offered him some money to help, also helped. We couldn't have done it without them, although Shelia is obviously very resourceful!)

 

 

I'm so relieved it will be played again. Loved again. I pray it continues making music for many years to come, and that another granddaughter loves it as much as I loved it. 

It's not the most beautiful piano in the world, obviously, but that piano was played by many fingers and loved by many hearts. What else matters?

In its honor, I'm re-posting something I wrote several years ago, when I first accepted this inevitable goodbye. I hope you enjoy it. It's a good reminder to me as I sort through my parents' home that memories are the true treasure.

 

The Piano

 

I sit in a corner of Mam-ma's bedroom in front of the piano, fingers splayed in position, tapping out the notes I'm reading from my Lesson Book.

Or my sister's lesson book.  I liked her music more than mine.

The piano is an upright, with old family photos displayed on top that distract me. 

There's one of Mam-ma's four children. My mother was the baby. 

 

 

And there's one of Mam-ma at thirteen (shortly before she was married) with her best friend. I can't remember her friend's name, but I can hear the tremble in Mam-ma's voice telling me how she died soon after the photo was taken. Mam-ma learned of her friend's death in a letter.

 

It's hard for me to imagine my mother as a baby. And with that dark hair, Mam-ma looks just like my mother.

Big things for a kid to wrap their heads around and try to play the piano at the same time.

 

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

 

I'm draped on the couch, watching television. Probably eating a Fudge-sicle. Mam-ma's warbly voice drifts out to me from her bedroom, dancing with the notes she coaxes from her piano with aged fingers...

...I come to the garden alone, while the dew is still on the roses...

Music I've grown up with. Part of the soundtrack of my life.

Blessed Assurance ... The Old Rugged Cross ... Rock of Ages ... What a Friend We Have in Jesus ...

I get up and close her bedroom door so I can hear the television.

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

 

But I can still hear her voice; it drifts to me even now where I sit tapping away at my computer, hundreds of miles from the piano, and seventeen years or so from her last day on earth.

I can see her sitting at the piano, fingers playing across the keys, hear her voice filling the house with melody, one hymn after another, just as she did all the days of my youth and more ... day after day, year after year.

...And he walks with me and he talks with me and he tells me I am his own ...

 

That's why I've wanted that piano. I wanted my kids to grow up with its song in their ears, just as I did. Wanted them to take lessons, just like I did and sit before it, plunking out the boring songs from my latest lesson, or play around on it with Chopsticks and other fun tunes, just like I did.

But time is so slippery. Somehow my kids grew up and out before I could make the piano a part of our family. 

Why didn't we move it sooner? I'm sure we had good reasons, but the exact ones evade me now.

Perhaps I didn't want to rush my mother. It's tough parting with things that belonged to loved ones, and Mam-ma's death hit her pretty hard. Nothing budged from Mam-ma's room for years.

More likely I was too focused on building this home and getting out of our tiny rent house - a process that took ten years - to worry about the piano. 

I didn't realize my mom was ready to part with it until recently. It takes up a lot of space, after all, and she's ready to have her living room back. The piano was moved there after Tropical Storm Alicia flooded the house and the wood floors needed to be redone. It was just too much work to move the piano back into Mam-ma's room.

I've begged my mom for time, racking my brain trying to figure out how to get the piano up here, making one promise ("Soon! Soon!") after another.

But we traded Tom's truck for my new car ($4900 for a truck we only paid $2500 for to begin with - we couldn't pass up that deal!) and even if we found a way to transport the piano without destroying it, there's the matter of getting it into the house. Our driveway leading to the back door is nothing more than an eroded dry creek bed right now, full of deep ruts. It would challenge a 4-wheel drive monster truck! We (as in Tom) have gathered rocks to pave it, but who knows how long it will be before it's vehicle-worthy.

This past weekend I had a grown-up moment: I realized how selfish and silly it is for me to ask my mom to hold on to the piano any longer. I don't need it; it's too late for my kids to grow up with it, and whatever I learned from my lessons flew away from my brain long ago.

I believe Mam-ma learned to play in her fifties (that's when she got the piano), but I'm not about to take more lessons now; I'd rather play my drums.

More than all of that, I realized I don't need it to keep memories of Mam-ma alive. She's singing to me right now, in my heart, without the piano.

So I'm going to tell my mom it's okay to get rid of it. It's time for me to let this dream go - or to realize it has already left. A much better tribute to Mam-ma's music will be to let it go where it will be played again, rather than be a museum piece, gathering dust.

... And the melody that He gave to me

 within my heart is ringing.

 

 Amen.

Silent Love and Friendship

 

I was headed to Houston last Saturday ... dreading the drive, the task ahead of me, and a whole day away from my business which I really can't afford at this time ... when I spotted a Panda Express.  I decided to cheer myself up with an early lunch. 

It was delicious, of course, but the best part was this message tucked into my fortune cookie...

 

 

Have you ever received a big hug from a friend just when you needed it? That's how I felt when I read that tiny little piece of paper.

Those words lifted me above the sadness of the task and helped me see it instead as a chance to revisit a lifetime of happy memories. The long drive, the physical labor, the sweat and tears all became acts of love,  a way to give back to my parents and grandmother and siblings and children... all of us who knew the abundance of love and laughter in that house. 

Words can be so powerful, can't they? 

These words will ride with me again tomorrow, and the next Saturday, and the next... however many it takes to sort through sixty years ... trying to decide what to keep, what to give, what to sell, and what to toss. 

I'm grateful for my sister who will be beside me in the process, adding more precious memories to tuck away in my heart as we prepare to say goodbye and thank you to the humble home that sheltered our childhood. 

 

My son, at not quite 30...

 

He doesn't take himself too seriously.

For instance, this is his latest post on Facebook...

"I jogged through the seven levels of the Candy Cane forest, through the sea of swirly twirly gum drops, and then I walked through the Lincoln Tunnel... To Bangers for a beer."

 

It makes me so happy to know he's secure enough, and fun-loving enough, to dress as an elf and run through the streets of Austin on an Elf Pub Run. Also, that he can quote Will Ferrell in "Elf".

Of course I'm also proud that he's an awesome insurance agent who was smart enough to fall in love with that gorgeous redhead beside him.

 

He volunteers to host Thanksgiving for 20 people.

Including roasting the turkey. Yum.

 

 

He doesn't let things shake him up.

After an 8 hour drive, which included hitting a huge deer on a dark highway 30 minutes outside of Lubbock, and then only 4 hours of sleep, he ran 14 miles in freezing weather with his wife because it was important to her to keep up with her marathon training. 

Plus , it was her birthday weekend.

"Ninja training: 8 hour road trip, 4 hours sleep, 14 mile run. Now endurance tailgating with Tx Tech girls."

 

Can I brag some more? He's an Eagle Scout, he visits his grandmother regularly, runs marathons despite having struggled with asthma all through his childhood, has the before-mentioned successful insurance business...

 

All in all, he lives life to the fullest.

 

 

 

But it's still hard to believe it's been 29 years since this...

 

 

Who knew then that he would be my hero? 

Yes, I'm a proud, extremely grateful mom.

Happy 29th birthday to my Sunshine Boy. 

 

You don't raise heroes, you raise sons.  And if you treat them like sons, they'll turn out to be heroes, even if it's just in your own eyes.  ~Walter M. Schirra, Sr.

 

Don't worry. I got this.

"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 that 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.

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, my Uncle Bobby, and Pop in recent years, and my brother Buster years ago, this day feels especially poignant. I don't want their service to be forgotten.)

 

 

Good boy, Max.

 

"Dogs’ lives are too short. Their only fault, really."

~ Agnes Sligh Turnbull

 

 

He wandered up to our house from the woods almost 11 years ago, a not-so-small puppy with crooked ears and a face so black you could barely see his eyes. We never found out where he came from, but within days, we didn't care. We knew he belonged with us.

 

His timing was just right; he brought Charly-dog back to life after the death of his brother, Chewy, and distracted me as my eldest prepared to head off to college.

 

 

Max was an angel, straight from heaven. I truly believe that.

 

 

But I guess angels can't live forever on earth, at least not when they take on mortal bodies. Max's finally wore out, and his beautiful spirit took flight yesterday as we whispered See-you-later and Thank-you and I-love-you-Max.

I spent the last few hours of his life beside him in the laundry room, working on my laptop, reading, and at times just sitting silently on the floor, watching him, petting him, remembering...

He would have tried to hang on, no telling how long - his devotion was so strong. But any doubts about our decision were squelched with one glance at him. He was nothing but fur and bones. He wouldn't eat and could no longer stand, much less walk.

He went downhill fast and I knew there wouldn't be another rally.

I'm grateful to our wonderful veterinarian and her assistant who braved the rough road to our house to ease my sweet Max into the next world, where I'm certain Charly welcomed him and he's no longer limited by that old, lame, beloved body, but able to run and pounce and play like he used to. 

 

 

When my legs grew too weak to carry me, And my tired eyes could no longer see,

When it pained me to struggle for each new breath,

When my heart beat weaker, and I drew closer to death,

You did me the kindness of letting me go.

You didn't make me hang on when I was suffering so.

I promise I don't think that you loved me any less,

And I love you all the more for your selflessness.

You freed my spirit from its body so wracked with pain,

And let me run the fields of Heaven, where I'm sure we'll meet again.

 

 

 

…Grieve not,

 

   nor speak of me with tears,

 

but laugh and talk of me

 

   as if I were beside you…

 

I loved you so –

 

   ‘twas Heaven here with you.

 

 

 

                                        Isla Paschal Richardson

 

 

 

 

"You think dogs will not be in heaven?

I tell you, they will be there long before any of us."

~ Robert Louis Stevenson

 

 

 

 

“It came to me that every time I lose a dog they take a piece of my heart with them.  And every new dog that comes into my life gifts me with a piece of their heart.  If I live long enough, all the components of my heart will be a dog, and I will become as generous and loving as they.”

 

~Anonymous 

  

The Story of Us

 

Tom asked me to dance for the very first time 33 years ago tonight. 

I was at Kenny Stabler's Diamondback Saloon in Houston on a rare Friday night off, in a bad mood because my boyfriend of five years "had other plans" that night.

That wasn't unusual - he wasn't a very good boyfriend. But to top it off, none of my friends I expected to see were there that night, either.

I felt very alone.

I guess that's how it is with miracles, though. When you least expect it, when you feel like nothing is going right, one pops up out of the blue, or, in this case, a blue-eyed miracle steps up and asks you to dance.

This is what happened that night. At least, this is my version...

 

A Michael Jackson song was playing. I can't remember which one, but it was one I didn't care for and wouldn't normally dance to, even in a good mood.

I saw the guy coming toward me and had the "no" ready on my lips, but to my surprise, I said "yes" when he asked me to dance.  I had no choice then, but to follow him onto the dance floor and wait for the song to end so I could go back to my spot at the railing and brood some more.

But when the song ended, a country-western tune started right up and he asked me to dance again. I hesitated - we had conversed enough for me to know he talked funny, which meant he was probably a Yankee and wouldn't know how to two-step.

And I hated teaching guys how to two-step.

However, he didn't wait for my answer. He just took me in his arms and started dancing. Two-stepping, no less!

While we danced, we talked. I learned his name, that he was from Maryland, and he was twenty-four even though he looked about eighteen.

By the time the song was over, I had agreed to sit at his table.

He was with an interesting mix of people...  a friend's Welsh wife (the friend was a Pasadena cop who was working nights), her New York friends, and Chris, a redhead from Maryland who preferred punk rock to country-western music.

When it was time to leave, Tom walked me outside, asked what I was doing the next night (going to Gilley's to see Alabama perform) and could he meet me there?

Sure. (Why not? My boyfriend had already told me he didn't want to go.) Then, with a peck of a kiss, Tom walked away to join his friends, leaving me to wonder what the heck had just happened.

I told my boyfriend I was meeting someone at Gilley's. He didn't care - he wasn't worried. We had a pretty loose relationship by then, you can tell.

I was worried, though... that I wouldn't recognize Tom. I couldn't remember what he looked like!

That night I stood at the bar where I could see customers streaming in the door to pay. Wait... was that him?

"Tom," I called, testing. He glanced in the direction of my voice. I smiled and waved. He smiled and made his way to me. Whew!

Now, I don't know if I believe in "love at first sight," or if there's such a thing as "someone for everyone," soul mates destined to meet and live happily ever after. But I do know that something changed in me that night at Gilley's.

Tom and I talked, laughed, and danced. Later, he walked me to my car, and we really kissed. He asked for my phone number and I gave it to him.

I didn't know at the time if this was something that would last forever, but I knew I wanted to see him again and spend more time with him. I knew I would be telling my boyfriend good-bye, no matter what happened between me and Tom.

But I didn't dwell on it, just started taking things a day at a time. The next two weeks were a blur of emotions and fun and firsts...

• Our first movie -  Continental Divide with John Belushi.
• Our first rock concert - Pat Benatar.
• Our first trip to the Renaissance Festival. 
• Our first dinner out - Mario's Pizza on the seawall in Galveston, followed by stargazing on the beach in a sleeping bag. He brought stemmed glasses and wine in an ice chest. And he gave me his dog-tags, which in my pre-Tom life I would have considered a corny gesture from anyone else. But it put butterflies in my stomach and melted my heart that night.

After working the night shift that week, I would find cute cards resting on my doorstep that said he missed me. Was this guy for real?

I dragged him to meet my friends and family, to get their opinion. Maybe there was something I wasn't seeing. But they all liked him. I liked his friends. They liked me.

Where was the glitch? I couldn't find one.

It was an emotional happy high with an undercurrent of deep sadness. Admittedly, my now ex-boyfriend had been a pretty bad boyfriend most of the time, but I loved him. We just weren't good for each other. I hadn't thought I could fall for anyone else until I met Tom.

As jealous as he'd always been, I guess my ex thought I would never fall for anyone else, either, and it hit him hard. One morning soon after meeting Tom, sound asleep after working the night shift, a banging on my door woke me up.

It was my ex. He went straight into my kitchen and grabbed a butcher knife. Before I had time to be scared, he marched across the living room to a small Norfolk pine he had given me. Jerking it out of its planter, scattering dirt all over the carpet, he lifted the knife and began hacking away at the trunk, telling me the tree was a symbol of our love. 

(To his credit, a few months later he called and apologized for how badly he had treated me and wished me well. I had already forgiven him. We were just kids, after all.)

Two short weeks after that first dance, Tom and I spent a perfect day at the Renaissance Festival outside of Houston with my parents, my brother, his girlfriend, and Tom's best friend. That evening, it happened:

"Will you marry me?"

"Yes."

Wait! What? Was I crazy? 

"But don't tell anyone," I added. "Ask me again in a couple of months, and do it right, with a ring, even if it's a Cracker Jacks ring."

Two weeks was just too soon. I had to find out what was wrong with him. There had to be something - he was just too good to be true. Two months should be plenty of time.

But he called all of his brothers and friends, anyway and told them, "I'm getting married!"

They couldn't believe it. At his older brother's wedding just two months before we met, everyone had teased him he'd be next in line.

"No way! I'm too young. I'm not getting married until I'm thirty-five."

The two months later I had ordered landed on Thanksgiving Day. We celebrated at my parents' house, after I had worked all night and only squeezed in a couple of hours of sleep. 

I was sitting on the couch in the living room when he dumped a dozen boxes of Cracker Jacks on my lap and told me to start looking for a ring. 

"What? You're nuts. They don't put rings in Cracker Jacks boxes anymore."

"Okay, you open these two and I'll open these," he said, somehow still smiling at me, despite my crankiness.

Grumbling, I opened the first box and dug out the prize envelope. I felt it before I opened it... a ring!

My mouth dropped open. "Is it real?" But I knew it was. "How did you do that?"

I might have been a little foggy from lack of sleep, but I swear the box and envelope had both been sealed.

He took the ring from me, then offered it back. "Will you marry me?"

Of course I said yes - again.  The rest is history.

 

Aren't we cute? I first posted this in 2008, but the story remains the same, and will always be one of my favorites.

 

"I knew the second I met you that there was something about you I needed. Turns out it wasn't something about you at all. It was just you."

~ Jamie McGuire

 

Lucky in Love

 

 

Thirty-two years ago today, Tom and I dismissed superstition by getting married on a Friday the 13th. We were so sure of our decision, so confident of our love and our future together, that we challenged those centuries-old superstitions to a duel.

Well, of course they just turned tail and ran, because they could see for themselves what we already knew - Tom and I were meant to be together. Love trumps superstition any day.

But being meant for each other doesn't mean you can just join hands and skip into the future through a field of daisies. It's more like joining hands and jumping off a ledge together into the unknown. You have no idea what's ahead of you but you decide to take that leap together, trusting the other one to be there with you whatever happens.

It doesn't mean you're always going to like each other, much less see eye-to-eye on everything. All it means is you have someone to share your joys and your sorrows, someone that is going to love you at your worst, physically and mentally, someone that believes in you and wants the best for you, and who, with one look, can ignite a warm tingly feeling inside of you that sets your heart to beating fast and makes you smile for no apparent reason.

And you can see without being told that you have the same affect on them.

But how did we know this was IT? Now that our own kids are reaching the age we were when we got married, how do we explain it to them when they ask us how they'll know when they've found "the One"?

I've scrambled around for the words, but I realize I can't tell them how they'll know. That's something between them, God and their hearts. All I can do is pray that they'll know.

And I can repeat the Story of Us, how after just a week of seeing Tom I got a feeling inside that this relationship was more than just the two of us having fun.

For me, it was a scary feeling, not a warm bubbly one. What was going on?  I knew Tom was going to ask me to marry him, and I knew I would say yes, and that scared the hell out of me.

But once I said yes, I shooed all those tiny doubts out of my mind. They served no purpose except to block the giving and receiving going on between us. And that's why I was so sure of us that I was able to turn Friday the 13th into a day to look forward to, rather than fear. From that point forward, it has been our lucky day.

You can have many loves in your life, but there are some loves that lift you up above yourself, that make you believe in yourself and want to be a better person. The best person possible. For a marriage to work, both of you have to feel that way. It could happen when you're a teenager, but it might not happen until you're in your fifties.

But whenever it happens, both of you have to treasure that feeling, not take it for granted. Don't just show the best part of yourself to the world, and the worst to this person because you know they love you anyway. They deserve the best of you, not the worst, because they love you.

I admit that hasn't always happened with me and Tom; I'm glad we're both stubborn enough to have held on to each other over the years despite ourselves.

So I think what I would tell my kids is this: Concentrate on living your life, on being the best possible "you" you can be, on searching for and following the path that has been laid before you.

But keep your eyes and heart open, because when you least expect it, you'll realize someone else's path has connected with your own, blending with it. If they make you better than you were before, or maybe just more "you" than you were before, chances are that's the One.

At least, that's how it happened to me. But then, I got lucky.

 

Happy 32nd Anniversary, Tom!

I'm so glad that when you crossed my path, I had my eyes and my heart open.

I love you!

 

(This is a slightly edited re-post from another anniversary a few years ago, if it sounds familiar, but it's all still true!)

In Homage to Robin and El Capitan

I was 19, living alone in my first apartment, relishing the solitude and the freedom of having my own space. Many nights I sat on a second-hand loveseat watching my very own television, bought via the Sears Easy Payment Plan.

Thanks to my sister, who worked in the Sears credit department, I was building my credit, $13 at a time, each and every month.

"Mork and Mindy" was one of my favorite shows. That's how long Robin Williams has been making me laugh. So hearing that he gave in to his demons today brought me great sadness.

Years and years and years ago, I almost gave into those same demons who steal the reality of hope away. Afterward, I could see what a selfish act suicide truly is. 

When you're eighteen, it's sometimes tough to believe things can get better. When you're 63, you've already survived so much, you should know better. 

However, lest I start becoming too judgemental, I remember "There, but for the grace of God..." I remember to be grateful for the chance to see it that way. Grateful for a second chance to live and love life.

But dang it. Robin Williams.

My kids know him through Mrs. Doubtfire and Disney cartoons and Hook. He's been making them laugh their entire lives. At 63, he still had so much living and giving yet to do. 

With a heart already missing the craziness of Robin Williams in this world, I also learned this evening that a treasure of my childhood may be destroyed.

The old Capitan Theater, built in 1949, has been languishing for years, waiting for an investor to restore it to its previous glory. I remember elegant velvet loveseats, carpeted stairways, ornate murals and decorations.

I can still see a young Elvis Presley dancing on the screen ... can still hear him singing "Viva Las Vegas" straight to the five-year-old me.

But peeking through the glass front doors in recent years revealed years of neglect. It once sat in the center of town, close to the newspaper office and the post office and City Hall, but now gathers dust on the outskirts of a town that continually boards up building in favor of bigger, better, and newer, rather than trying to preserve its history. The ornate old post office was left behind years ago.

And yet I still held on to hope that someone would come along and fix up the old theater. Instead, according to a story in the local newspaper, it's been sold to a chemical company and expected to be destroyed.

However, despite what Robin Williams obviously felt in his last minutes or hours, because of my own experience I believe there's always hope as long as there's breath. It's too late for Robin, but I'm holding out hope for El Capitan. 

Holding out hope that the city realizes its history is a treasure and starts to treat it as such.

But may you rest in peace, Robin. Thank you for decades of belly-aching laughter and heart-aching movies.

Perhaps you were just afraid you'd become a dusty relic, and decided to make your exit while the neon lights still shone.

 

 

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

 

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.

 

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

 

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.

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.