Family – Long walks and dark chocolate

Love you mother!

May 10, 2013 2 Comments

I was blessed with one of those Moms like the one from Leave It to Beaver, only better. Hers was the shoulder I cried on, and it was her hand that I held. She was strength when I needed it and a resounding voice of wisdom during my trials and troubles.

In my early years, she was my fiercest protector, my biggest encourager, my most invested teacher and an abundant source of love and gentleness.

As I grew, she cheered me on, she poured positivity into me, and she taught me forgiveness and reminded me to turn to God for all things.

In my teenage years, she cried with me as she stroked my back, bringing hope to a broken heart. She defended me like a lioness, when she thought I’d been wronged. She never lost faith in me or what I could become. She was my mentor, my solace, my sole confidante.

When I became a mother myself, I learned to appreciate her more than ever for it was then that I recognized her sacrifices and identified with them myself.

Now, after almost 17 years, I can still remember the sound of her voice, the strength of her touch and thankfully, all the things that she taught me about love and life.

I will miss her until the day the good Lord calls me home and I am reunited with her.

For those of you who didn’t have the greatest mom, I am truly sorry and I know there are many situations out there that are heartbreaking. The good thing is, you can be that yourself, whether you are a mom or a mentor, you can give someone hope. You never know how you can be used to pour into a life until you do it.

Filed Under: Family and Home, Inspirational Tagged With: Family, God, hope, Mom, Mother's Day

Easter morning reminiscing

March 31, 2013 4 Comments

Me and my mom’s version of the Easter Bunny cake around 69′

On Holidays, we always think about the ones we loved so much who are no longer with us, and this Easter Sunday, is no exception for me. I think about my Mom, who died almost 17 years ago, while I was pregnant with my youngest.

My mom loved holidays and to me, she was a combination of all the best in Martha Stewart, Betty Crocker and June Cleaver (for those of you too young to know who this is, google “Leave it to Beaver”).

She made all holidays special and I think Easter was one of her favorites. She made the “bunny cake”, and let us help sprinkle the coconut or place the whiskers. It wasn’t only pretty, but also tasty enough to make even Julia Childs stand up and take notice.

She dyed eggs with us, and let us hunt them until they were crushed, rotten or eaten. She was a bona fide pro, though and had fresh ones in the fridge. She laid out a delightful, delicious Easter dinner and usually invited family over to share.

Mom, Dee and I

Our outfits were adorable and immaculate and we changed out of them immediately after church. I sometimes think about her in church with us at ages 1, 2 and 3 (yes, we were little stair steps) and this makes me all the more in awe of her. We will be 45, 46, and 47, as soon as my brother catches up with the program, turning 45 on April 22nd.

She made sure we visited both sets of grandparents and she took pictures to document it all for days like this, when I’m reminiscing and want to remember their faces more clearly.

Most of all I am blessed that mom taught us the true meaning of Easter; that is wasn’t all about colorful eggs and dressing up and bunnies, that the true message was in the Resurrection and the hope we all share because of it.

So today, on this beautiful Sunday morning, I am grateful for my Christian heritage. I’m picturing Mom in heaven this morning singing and praising with the angels, as this must be a joyful day there as well.

Blessings and Happy Easter!!!

Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: Betty Crocker, cake, Easter, Easter Sunday, Family, God, Holiday, Julia Childs, June Cleaver, love, Martha Stewart, Mom, Mother, Sunday

The day I became a Nana

February 27, 2013 7 Comments

Stop and smell the flowers

Yesterday I was mom, aunt, daughter

A friend, cousin and wife.

Today I became a Nana

I never could have guessed the way I would feel

You changed my life on February 28th, 2010

The day I became a Nana

Those other grandparents tried to warn me

They spoke of a new and different kind of love

About how hearts turn to mush

But I just didn’t get it

Until the day I became a Nana

Happy 3rd Birthday to my baby girl 🙂

Filed Under: Poetry, Uncategorized Tagged With: Facebook, Family, God, grandparent, Home, Mother, Nana, Parenting

Weekly photo challenge: Home

February 9, 2013 4 Comments

The weekly photo challenge was to depict home – to me, THEY are home….My husband, my daughters and my granddaughter…wherever we are together, living, loving, eating, playing….This applies to extended family members as well of course!

Filed Under: Photography Tagged With: Family, food, Home, love, photography, postaday, sisters

Flashbacks of watermelon and nausea

January 25, 2013 2 Comments

My brother, Ronnie and I in 79′ at picnic area in Iowa.

It was the summer of 1979 at a roadside stop in Iowa. The day my hatred for all things watermelon began. I ate WAY too much of it; haven’t been able to stand it since. Something about the gluttony and the heat mixed together and let’s just say I had to empty my stomach of all of it before we could resume our trip.

The rest of that trip was a good one though; it was my mom, dad, brother, sister and I. I don’t remember what our vehicle was at the time, but I’m sure the three of us kids were sliding around in the back seat without the restraint of seat belts. One of us would make a loud slap noise on our own leg and then yell, “Mom, so and so hit me”; so and so was whoever we felt like getting into trouble.

I remember that quite often I got to ride in the front because I got carsick. This wasn’t one of my sneaky little games either although my brother and sister always thought it was. Mom and Dad would usually attempt to make me sit in the backseat, but after enough pleas to, “pull over, I think I’m going to puke!” I would soon find myself comfortably lodged right between them up front nearer the air conditioner. Okay, I admit, I wasn’t always really sick, but most of the time I was.

This was especially necessary in the summer when it was hot or if we traveled mountainous or curvy terrain. I went on a trip once with my grandparents and aunt and uncle and threw up in the Catskills. I told people about that for months. To this day, when someone mentions the Catskill Mountains, it’s always the first thing I think of.

After my move to the front seat, Dad would cajole me into singing along with whatever country song was on the radio or 8 track tape. One of his favorites for me to sing was Jessie Colter’s, “I’m not Lisa”, or Crystal Gayle’s “Don’t it make my brown eyes blue”. With my eyes being brown and my name being Lisa, this was always funny to me.

I loved traveling as a child and still do. Some things about it haven’t changed. There is something about heading out in the morning with coffee in hand, watching the sunrise as you countdown the miles to your destination. Then there is the quality family time spent in the car together, arguing over the radio and temperature. What about trying to get dad/hubby to stop for potty breaks and having him wait so long and pass so many possibilities that finally the only choice you have left is a nasty truck stop with no toilet paper or the other even less favorite option, the side of the road.

All in all, traveling with my family throughout the years holds more pleasant memories than bad ones. Besides, looking back now, even the bad ones don’t seem so bad anymore. I think it’s because we were together.

Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: Catskill Mountains, Crystal Gayle, Don't It Make My Brown Eyes Blue, Family, I'm Not Lisa, Iowa, Jessi Colter, Mom and Dad, Travel, Watermelon

Weekly Photo Challenge: Love

January 25, 2013 2 Comments

My paternal grandparents before I was even though of

My paternal grandparents before I was even thought of

This picture represents love to me, because I know that they survived every storm together. They honored the commitment that they made before God, and gave us an example of true love and devotion. Things weren’t always easy, and I’m sure they had days when they would have liked to give up. But they didn’t.

In these days we live in, where love comes and goes like the wind and people would rather run than fight for their marriage, their example shows that love can survive, in the midst of trials and tribulations and circumstances that come against every couple.

This picture isn’t the greatest quality and photo credits go to my Uncle if I’m not mistaken, but this photo moves me. I can sense the love between them.

Filed Under: Photography Tagged With: committment, Family, love, marriage, photography

Your cousin’s sister’s husbands nephew

January 22, 2013 8 Comments

Cherish your human connections, your relationships with friends and family- Barbara Bush

Family Reunion (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Granny, how am I related to him? “Well, let’s see, you’re double kin because between Pop and me, you’re cousins on both sides”. This was my life story, growing up in a small town. It’s a wonder I ever found anyone to “like”. Thankfully, by the time I was in for serious dating, we had moved away and there was a smorgasbord of available young men who I had no familial ties to whatsoever.

I originally had mixed emotions this past weekend about attending a family reunion. When I was younger, it had seemed that being related was more trouble than anything. The fact that I am a notorious introvert probably contributed to my angst. The plus was that my husband would be with me and he is the opposite and usually fills in the gaps for me.

In the past, the mere thought of chatting it up all day with a large gathering of people would have sent me hunting an excuse to retreat. This time though, I made reservations as soon as I heard about it and for the most part, looked forward to it. Do we crave this type of interaction more as we age because we’re afraid of being old and lonely so we are trying to add to our list of go to friends? Or, are my forties just going to continue being full of surprises for me?

We arrived at the beautiful park where it was being held and I was anxious to hear some of the almost forgotten stories, figure out who was who and get reacquainted with old friends and family. I also wanted to get a look at that family tree and try to figure out this double-kin stuff for once and for all.

I enjoyed watching the children running around, sounds of their laughter mixed with the lighthearted banter of the adults. I took pleasure in the grandparents proudly displaying pictures of the most brilliant grandchild ever to be born and some of the “elder” cousins harmlessly arguing in the same way they probably did in their younger days. The food was plentiful and delicious and I hoarded some of my Aunts delectable fudge for later in the hotel room.

I was honestly surprised at how much I enjoyed myself as in the past I ran from this type of event. But on this beautiful Saturday, I found myself hoping for another one next year, making silent vows to see some of these people more often. Some are old and we don’t know how much time we have left, to hear their stories and learn about them as well as from them. So I ask myself again….Have I really changed that much or do I now just finally possess the wisdom to appreciate them more?

Whatever the answer, I am blessed to have so many wonderful and interesting relatives. There are a lot of similarities and also some differences, but when all is said and done, we are blood. We should get to know each other, be there for each other and love one another regardless of differences.

Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: Christmas, Cousin, Family, Granny, humor, love, reunion, Saturday

I wish it were me

January 21, 2013 4 Comments

My girls

I wish it were me instead of you. If I could take your pain upon myself, I would.

How many mothers have said that over the course of your child’s life?

Whether soothing a feverish infant, watching your toddler get their shots with tears rolling down your face, waiting for that daredevil adolescent to have the cast put on or holding back the pony tail of a puking teenager, we’ve all been there.

This pain doesn’t have to be physical either; it can also be emotional. Those cruel words spoken by a classmate, that first break-up, insensitive teachers and all the other situations they face as they grow. We know these are life circumstances they have to bear alone, with our tender guidance.

I’ve often wondered what what my girls think when I utter the words, “I wish it were me instead”. They might find them comforting or maybe even hard to believe. The truth is; they will never understand the sincerity or truthfulness in them, until they have a child of their own. One of mine does understand completely now as she has already experienced this very thing with my granddaughter.

Another thing I know is that our feelings never change, no matter how old they are. I’m still fairly young myself but I’m firmly convicted that “mother-love” is undying. It’s too strong to die this side of heaven.

I can imagine being 90 and one of my girls suffering physical or emotional pain. I know what will come to my mind and the words that will flow from my mouth. “I wish it were me instead of you” and I will still mean them from the bottom of my old heart.

Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: Adolescence, daughter, Family, love, Mother, teenager

One of those days

January 16, 2013 1 Comment

Okay, time to humiliate myself again in front of all my blog followers.

Do you ever have those days? You know….the ones where you wonder where you left your brain? I prefer to think that mine is just so full of great information, that it can’t possibly process anything more.

We won’t even go into work today and how wonderful that went. We’ll just begin this little story right after I got off. We also will not discuss the interminable phone call with Verizon or the barking dogs.

First, although I am loathe to admit it, I had to take down the Christmas tree today (yes, it is artificial) and pack up the decorations that have been sitting on a table for two weeks now. This is so unlike me. Usually that stuff disappears by January 2^nd at the latest. I will blame it on the traveling, and the strep and all the other little things that got in the way.

So today was the day. I meant it would get done today or else (or else what, I don’t know? Don’t you find that expression strange?). I got started and was immediately on a roll. I was packing up the decorations while my daughter cooked dinner. She made a meatloaf and was peeling potatoes and we were listening to music and enjoying our conversation.

In my haste to complete this detestable task, I was snatching ornaments off right and left and dropped one of the most expensive ones and it broke into a million (well, more like 5) pieces. This irritated me, but was grateful that I didn’t even cut myself.

About that time I go into the kitchen to check on things with Morgan and she is mixing the potatoes with the blender and she asked me to check on the meatloaf. I pulled it out of the oven, poured some ketchup on top, and intended to put it right back in the oven. My husband had also walked in and was watching and waiting, in anticipation of a tasty dinner. I went to open the oven door and I have no idea what happened next except that the meatloaf pan went flying out of my hands, the hot grease in the bottom of the double layer pan flew in Morgan’s direction. She was hit with some of the grease and frightened at the same time and the blenders went flying slinging mashed potatoes everywhere.

I did have the sense to reach up and snatch the plug out of the blender. Then, I checked on Morgan, and made her go rinse her foot where she sustained the worst of it. I salvaged enough meatloaf for dinner (barely) as there was some that didn’t hit the floor. Then, I had to mop the floor, clean the cabinets and wash the rugs.

Finally we ended up eating a delicious dinner of meatloaf, mashed potatoes and peas. I’m very thankful that Morgan is okay and I realize that this could have been much worse. And, I am earnestly ready to call it a night and not touch anything else breakable or potentially injurious to anyone. I think my brain needs a break and so does everyone around me!

Oh, and this was supposed to be posted last night, but my internet quit working about the time I was ready to post…whew, what a day!

Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: Christmas tree, Cooking, Dinner, Family, Mashed potato, Meatloaf, Oven, Potato

The day fingernails won me over

January 9, 2013 6 Comments

I was a jealous little girl and I couldn’t bear the idea of not getting the lion’s share of the attention from any adults I might spend time with. This was such a problem with me that I would plot and plan evasive little schemes to get to have my granny all to myself. If my brother and sister wanted to go stay with her I would remind them that granny didn’t have television and they would miss their favorite programs. Or, I would pretend that I wasn’t going after all and tell them what fun we would have, only to sneak out and go to her house before they had time to realize I was going. I was often a sneaky, deceitful child in my dealings with them.

I remember one time granny seriously considered adopting a young girl and I was absolutely devastated and I let her know it. Looking back, I realize how incredibly selfish and self-centered I was, but at the time I guess I didn’t realize that granny had enough love to go around. There is no justification for my feeling this way; I was surrounded by people who loved me and let me know it daily. However, I strive to be transparent here, and this is just the way it was for a long time.

You can just imagine my dismay when I learned that my uncle, who at the time was away at college, was bringing his girlfriend home. A girlfriend?!? Are you kidding me? This just couldn’t be. I could not allow this to happen. My uncle had been one of my babysitters when I was young and he held a special place in my heart. There just wasn’t room for another woman in the picture.

Somehow, in spite of my objections to her very presence on earth, much less with MY uncle, I managed to ride to the airport to pick them up on her first trip home to meet the family. My little heart was pounding, and my mind was whirling with ideas of how dreadful she would be. I don’t remember the exact details but I do remember that I ended up sitting next to her in the car on the ride home. She was tiny and had quite the southern accent. She had beautiful bouncy brown hair, a tiny splash of freckles and the most beautiful naturally long fingernails I had ever seen. She let me play with her nails all the way home and looking back, I wonder if that drove her crazy at the time, if she hated it that I sat there pulling, probing and picking at her nails.

Needless to say, before we even completed the hour drive home, she had won my heart and has been carving out her own private place in it ever since. Not long after that (I don’t think they were married when we first met, but my memory may fail me on that point) she became my aunt. She has always shown me unconditional love and taught me a lot about marriage and family and my life is richer because she has been a part of it. I know everyone in my family would agree.

It’s funny because her son and his family were visiting me this past weekend and during church one of his girls sat in my lap and begin to play with my fingernails and it brought back such a flood of fond memories. And you know what? I didn’t hate it at all; it was precious.