Hello, Mum?

I want to pick up the phone and talk to my mother.  I have so many questions, now that I'm at an age I can look back and see myself as a young mother and she the loving grandmother who eagerly awaited our visits.  Not that I ever didn't love my mother, but yes there were times I was annoyed by her and even rolled my eyes behind her back. I said things that I know must have hurt her at the time, but her love was unconditional and she forgave me.  I hate that I ever treated her that way.  I hope she understood.  I'm thankful I grew up enough that I loved being with her as often as I could be and when I was laying next to her those last few days of her life, she knew how very much I loved her.  I'm lucky I had those days. Still, I wish I could say "remember that time ..  I'm so sorry".  Knowing my mother, she would say: "I don't remember that at all, you must have dreamed it."

I wish I could ask her if she still felt like she was 23 when she was actually 54, if she ever really felt like an adult and what about that time ... things only she could answer, things my Dad doesn't even know.  And oh yes, what ever happened to that weird little bear that made the fart noise that I loved so much.  Or how old was I when .. and who was that old lady .. and did that really happen or did I imagine it?

Now here I am, my children are all married and 2 of them "with children"  Three entirely different people who need me in different ways.  They have spouses who are their best friends, and children they shower their love on, but every now and then, they still need me, their Mom.  I need to remember that, and just be here when they do, like my Mom did for me. 

A Wunnderful Sunnderful Day

Even still as I sit here in my "big" chair in the kitchen, back door open, fan blowing on me and the crickets chirping loudly just outside, it feels like summer again and I am happy.  I should be in bed, but I want to hang onto these moments, soak them up and enjoy them to the fullest. Look at the crickets, for example, they are so happy it's summer they stay up all night long chirping their hearts out.  I love their music and love that it's warm enough to leave the windows open all night long so I can listen to them until I fall asleep. 

Hydrangea Juice!

Mmmmm!

No, I'm kidding.  Maybe it's possible,

 but I did not make my juice out of Hydrangeas this morning.

Isn't it a beautiful color though?

Celebrating 6 months of being COLA FREE!!

This delicious concoction is made up of:

1 grapefruit, 1 orange, 2 carrots, 

a 1/4 beet and a 1/2 inch piece of ginger

a good 20 oz and I poured it over ice.

 Are you loving it yet?

 

I'm afraid I didn't get to the grocery store today.  Dad and I played outside with the grand pups and I swam and floated in my pool. We really aren't getting very many hot sunny days this summer, so I am determined to enjoy every last one. So, no juice with the evening meal. I will replenish our supply of fruits and veggies in the morning!

 

More about JUICE!

A friend asked me if Diabetics could "juice"  and my reply to her was ask your doc first!  Pineapple is high in sugar, maybe beets?  I don't know these things, so it's best to just make sure what you put in your juicer is on your diet.  I would think there must be recipes that would be great for diabetics.

Last night while Brad and my Dad enjoyed another half hour on the pool deck; most likely Dad filling Brad in on his last few days, I made juice with:

2 green apples

1 small lemon

4 carrots

3 stalks of celery

1/2 of a medium sized beet

about an inch of ginger

YUM!

It's crazy but I love the aroma as I tip it up for a drink.

A bit woodsy, a little ginger tickling my nose.  I could have used

more ginger and more beet.

I love it when they turn out so good.  I sample before I decide it's done.  This made two 12 oz servings and we had it with the chicken Brad grilled for us. 

I Love JUICING!

First of all I have to say I would be a lot better at this if I had someone else hand me the glass of juice or at least bottle it up and leave it in the fridge for me.  NOT that it's a HUGE deal to make, it really isn't, and once it's part of my daily routine, I actually enjoy the whole process.

Second there are 100s if not 1000s of websites, blogs, 'what have yous' online that can give you all this information and more, but I know it helps to have someone you know tell you what they use, how it works, do they REALLY like it, is it a pain to clean up and does it really make a difference.

To see what we use go here .  Omega seems to be top of the line right now, but we are very satisfied with our Champion.  It's solid and does what we need it to, and it was a gift from Dad Graves who insisted we had to have a Champion because that's what he and Mom used.

Holly is the one who really got me started when she told me about Drew Canole and that I could get a free book of his for my Kindle called:

 Train your Taste to Trim your Waist

 I also have these two:

40 Recipes for Weight Loss and Healthy Living

Drew Canole's Juicing Recipes for Vitality and Health

BEETS!  I hate beets.  But I can juice them along with pineapple, carrots a little ginger and voila I love them!  If you really get into juicing, you'll be buying things you may have never heard of.  I still need to try a few.  Brad isn't real big into spinach and kale, but I can slip that into a smoothie and he doesn't even know. Ok, Smoothies are another thing.  I use the Ninja Blender.

You have to start slow with the beets if you're like me.  Baby steps!  It doesn't take a whole beet to make your juice a healthy drink. Plus if you over do it, your first (slightly red) BM afterwards might alarm you. If you aren't going to use recipes, you'll be experimenting and may combine a couple things that really don't go so well together.  I use recipe's as a guide.  When I didn't I got a very heavy, filling juice that didn't feel so good after it went down. 

LEMONS!  I love lemons and love adding it to my juices.  ZING!

Clean up is a breeze.  Seriously.  I had everything out, cut into sizes that would fit the juicer, made the juice, taste tested, added an orange and another apple, poured the juice into the bottles, took photos (because I'm a photo nut) washed and dried juicer parts, cleaned area thoroughly in under an hour.  I make enough for 2 bottles, so if you're juicing for one it wouldn't take as long.

TIP:  If you want the effectiveness of the juice to last longer, fill to the top of the bottle and seal tightly.  Keeps the oxygen out and oxidation doesn't start as soon.  (thank you Holly!)  I think she said it stays good for up to 2 weeks.

YES, I love my juice!  YES, I feel a difference. I definitely have more energy.  But then you are asking someone who practically lived on Pepsi or Coke as her fluid intake.  Tomorrow will be 6 months off the nasty stuff. Now I need to back off my Coffee intake and double the water I drink.

Have I lost weight?  I had when we were being faithful about having a bottle in the morning and with our evening meal.  Starting last night, I'm back at it, and will keep you posted.  I intend to juice along with some form of protein for breakfast and dinner.  Lunch will be a healthy smoothie.  Snacks will be nuts, fruit and cheese.

Think I can lose 15 pounds before the wedding?  If not, I know I will at least feel GREAT!  Here goes.  Yes, I know I should have started sooner, but I'm the world's biggest procrastinator.  And by biggest I'm not talking size here.

My own recipe:
1 grapefruit, 1 orange, 2 apples (1 green 1 red)
3 carrots and 3 celery stalks 

Have FUN!! 

one Sunday in July
 "do these stripes make me look too thin?"

I know it's all about being happy, not about being thin. 
That being said, I would be really really happy if I was 50 pounds "lighter" ..
but for now, I'll go for 15.

HAPPY JUICING!

I'M COLA FREE

I was going to wait until it had been 6 months but "5 months or 150 days" just goes so well together.  

I'M COLA FREE!!!  

That's right.  Not a drop since February 14th, Valentine's day.  I don't know if I will ever drink it again.  It is truly an addiction with me.  I could go a week or even up to 5 weeks without it, take one drink of it and I was back at it.  Sometimes 4 cans in a day.  I was becoming a "closet Pepsi drinker" trying to keep Brad from knowing how much I was drinking.  Like he was stupid and didn't notice the 12 pack he'd gotten with the groceries was empty already.  

When I was a child I remember soda was a special treat.  I always had milk with my meal.  Mama would get groceries and buy a 6 pack of soda for us kids.  Pammy correct me if I'm wrong.  We got to pick what flavor soda we wanted and we each got 2 bottles for the week.  I remember loving grape soda, but I don't remember ever drinking it at meal time.

Then I became a teenager and it seems like pepsi became part of the meal.  We didn't always have it in the house, but if it was we drank it.  Usually 2 liter bottles of it.  Occasionally we'd have Coke because someone was visiting who preferred it.  I wasn't too picky, but Pepsi was my cola of choice for a long time.  Evenings with popcorn, birthdays, holidays, playing a game .. any excuse to have pepsi with the ice clinking against the edges of the glass.

I got married and our grocery list always had Pepsi on it.  We had it with our meal every night.  Brad swears that's why he gained 10 pounds that first year.  (he's probably right)  I don't remember when I became so addicted to it, but part of my addiction was the cold can in my hand and the sound when you "popped the top".  Ahhhhhhhhh.  I preferred my Coke in a bottle, but an ice cold can of Pepsi in my hand was bliss. 

I was convinced if I was stressing about something, Pepsi calmed my nerves and helped me cope.  Brad would run to Mic Mac to get me "just one to get me through".  I would often run through McDee's just to have an ice cold Coke. The cup filled with ice and the cola poured over it was like balm to me.  Of course, cola always tasted better if I had something sugary to eat with it, or if I ate something sugary it would make me want cola to go with it.  Or anything salty, or Chinese food, or a Roast Dinner on Sunday, or ... ok, I drank it with anything and everything or nothing.  Addicted. To cola.  Pepsi is worse than Coke.  I weaned myself from Pepsi by switching entirely to Coke and then finally just stopped the Coke.  

One day at a time .. I don't know what made me flip the switch, but I'm so glad I did.  I really think I feel happier and just knowing I'm not putting that stuff into my system is reward enough for me.  I love water with fresh lemon squeezed into it and lots of ice.  I drink too much coffee now, and I'm working on that!  I am VERY thankful my addiction didn't spill over onto my kids.  There's an awareness now that we didn't have when I was growing up.  It just tasted good and we knew it was fattening, but what's a few pounds?  (more like 50)

Next step is exercise ... I've done it, I've proved it makes me happier, makes me feel better physically and mentally so why am I not doing it?  Same reason I kept drinking Cola even though I knew the stuff is nasty and terrible for you.  I haven't flipped the switch yet.  I have to flip it sooner than later.  I'm going on 54 and I want to feel young again.  Exercise will do that for me. I know it will. 

So color me Cola Free!  No it's not a cigarette or alcohol addiction, but it's a very real one just the same, and I beat it.  I admire and am proud of anyone who beats an addiction no matter what it is. So proud of my friends who have given up cigarettes after years of smoking.  I know in a small way how hard that was to do.  So GO YOU!

A flood of memories

Maybe it's the 3rd day of rain that is making my heart just a little sad this morning, or the creak of the floor overhead as my Dad gets his few belongings together to head back to Clinton today, the image of him, just a little stooped over, gathering up what still belongs to him.  Making sure the photos I printed and framed for him are going with him "I'll bring them back when I come";  "they are yours, Daddy". 

85 years old, he grows weary and weak.  He's not the strong able man I knew growing up.  How proud I was of him, and still am.  Mr. Sanders, the floor sander and builder of beautiful homes.  "My Dad built that house".  He would drive his Wheel Horse with the snow blower attachment and a cab with doors on it down to the frozen bog and clear it so we could skate for hours on end.  The neighbor kids loved my Dad too and called him "Uncle Don".  Years later, they still do.

I hear him come down the stairs with a little "phew" when he reaches the bottom.  Carrying his bible bag and shaving kit and the sheets off his bed he walks into kitchen with a little grin on his face.  "Throw the sheets down the stairs" I say.  He throws them down then he stops and asks, "what is that hymn, Cleanse me oh lamb of God, I can't find those words to look it up .. that's a good one"  and he sings a verse of it to me.  Of course I know it, but can't find it so I send Brad a text and he responds with "WASH" (not cleanse) #8, no #17.  #8 was the old book.  Yes that's it, and I get my hymn book and sing a couple verses.  This happens nearly every morning. 

He pours Total into the bowl I have ready for him, crunching it down "so the pieces aren't so big".  I asked him once if he needed a bigger bowl so they'd fit and he said no, he just liked them crunched down.  A bite of banana in between bites of Total, sometimes he'll tell me how he's eaten this for years and then tells me he has Burger King for lunch "A Junior Whopper with Cheese and a Sprite, it costs me $2.98, then I have a peanut butter and fluff sandwich at night" 

Now, as he sits there munching, he tells me again about his cousin, Teddy, and Aunt Rita, known as "Aunt Tootie" by us kids because that's what Mammie called her.  She called Mammie (Francis) "Kittie".  Brad almost fell off his chair the first time he heard me say her name.  Well, maybe it was the way in which I said it "Aunt TOOTIE DIED?!"  She laughed a lot, like Mammie did, especially when they were together.  I'm thankful my Dad got those genes and had Mammie for a mother, the lady I was named after.  Francis Kelley.  As Mama would tell it, she was going to name me Francis and Mammie said "don't you dare, if you have to name her after me use my maiden name" (another thing I'm thankful for!) I don't know .. would I have turned out differently if everyone called me Francis?

He's all packed and ready to go but has an hour to kill.  He wants to leave his sprite and his oatmeal cream pies with us, but I assure him we don't drink Sprite and if he leaves the cookies I will eat them all in two days.  He heads into the living room for the "big chair" and I will close now so I can play a few tunes for him on the piano.

It helps, you know, my heart isn't near as heavy.  I will have to do this more often.  Yes, Dad is thankful for his good memories and so am I.

Spring morning in Maine

My almost favorite time of year is here.  The scent of apple blossoms drifts through the open window and the birds are singing, chirping, twittering and whistling back and forth from the trees around our home.  A car drives by and the sound carries for a few seconds and from where I sit, I can see out the back patio doors to green. White birch, green leaves and green grass.  We won't talk about the dead dandelions that defiantly stand tall challenging any lawn mower or weed digger to best them.  They'll soon be gone.  A breeze blows across my face and the sun rests gently on the leaves of the plant I don't have a name for.  Given to us by friends when my father in law passed away, it has tripled in size.  I turn my chair to face the window.  I can feel the heat as the rays hit my shins and bare toes and nestle there, no where else to go.

A neighbor walks by with her black dog.  They could be Nellie and I.  The puppy pulling at the leash heading for the ditch, sniffing out all the scents that entice him/her, the "master" tugging, "c'mon".  I remember how worn out I would be after a 2 to 3 mile walk with Nellie just trying to keep her on the straight and narrow.  We'd start out, her pulling on the leash "let's go let's go let's go!"  Ok, so LET'S go.  Soon her nose was to the ground and there was no rushing her now.  I use to think I'd leave her home next time so I could get my walk in at a faster pace.  But then I could never leave her behind, her black nose pressed against the window, her brown eyes looking sorrowfully at me.  I miss her, I miss THAT, and suddenly I want a warm furry body pressed against my legs or curled up in my lap assuring me that I am the most important person in it's world. 

The flag lifts slightly in the breeze then falls lazily back down, curled around itself and the pole.  How proud I am to be an American, how sad I am to see what is happening in this great country.  But for right now I will  enjoy the perfection of a warm and sunny spring morning in Maine

Tavia and Hospital Stays

Got the okay to share with all of you who love my niece, Tavia.  She spent Monday afternoon 'til late this morning at the hospital in Augusta.Maine General Medical Center  I must say if you have to be IN a hospital that is one very nice one.  She has been discharged but still waiting on results.  In the meantime she'll be set up with a Rheumatologist and a new PCP to get to the bottom of this once and for all.  Those of you who know her best, picture her sitting there on the hospital bed with 3 docs and 6 residents around her. One young nice looking doc which made it a bit more bearable I'm sure. They find her case quite interesting.  Monday, when asked how she would describe herself she said "easy going"  The staff had to agree as she never pushed the nurses button unless her IV was beeping incessantly (and only because Pammy and I begged her to) Sitting there 'til 11:00 Monday evening and then through the day yesterday we couldn't help but think of those of you who have sat day after day in a hospital room or the waiting room down the hall .. eating hospital food and hoping the doc will be back soon with a report, a good one.  We've gone through days like that with others we've loved and know just how wearying it can be.  Thankful Tavia is back home now and hoping her new doctors will figure this all out. 

My Talented Niece

Tavia Betts, is one talented little lady.  She has been busy sewing and knitting up a storm of American Girl clothes for her little cousin, Isabelle Marie.

Here's a look at some of her great designs for Izze's new Isabelle doll .. she has also made a clothes mannequin for "Isabelle" because one of the doll's hobbies is sewing.  Her stitching is impeccable.  Doll, Isabelle, is also a ballerina, so of course she needed a tutu and tank.  Unfortunately for anyone who would love to buy Tavia's designs, they aren't for sale.  Sewing is something she does for her own enjoyment and there are a few little girls in Tavia's life who are very lucky indeed

 

Yes, proud I am, and always excited to see what she has created next!

                             

Hush

The house has been quiet for long enough now .. my mornings are routine, my day stretches out and evening finally arrives along with the one who keeps me smiling.  It's too quiet which makes me think too much, mulling over, rehashing, regretting ... and then it occurs to me what a waste this is because it is too late now for a do over.  I can only move forward with a purpose in my heart to be better, gentler, kinder, more forgiving, more tolerant, more loving .. more gracious.  And always always remember that I am so far from perfect I have no right to pass judgement on any other human.

My heart holds a lot of love.  Some days that love overflows, splashing out on creatures big and small, on people around me who step back a little annoyed and try to brush it off or wring it out.  Ew, what IS that you just touched me with?  Embarrassed, now it is I who steps back, blushing a little and feeling silly that I'd thought they wanted some of that overflow.  Keep it to yourself, hold it in, don't let them know! I try to pretend it didn't happen and chasten myself silently.  "there you go again!"

Some people are not huggers, I have found out in what can be kindly called "awkward moments"   So, now that I know that, I'm fine without the hugs, so don't pretend you want a hug from me when a firm friendly handshake does just as well, if not better than that odd stiff armed hug you give me holding yourself away from me.   I can't accuse them of being "cold", they just don't want other people touching them.  It doesn't mean they don't "love" me ... I'm too much like a puppy or even a dog that sits at your feet, tongue hanging out with a silly grin on her face just waiting for approval and yes, love.

Just pat my head, smile at me and say "good girl" and I'll try not to trip you by laying at your feet.

How do I explain

How do I explain the nervous excitement of anticipation .. wondering "is this going to be good?  Is it going to be awkward? Will just being who we are be enough?"  Meeting Thy's parents for the very first time as George's car pulls into our drive, the snow coming down, the lights from our doorway casting a glow into the dark and shadows on the now white lawn, my stomach clenches just a little and my heart pounds a bit harder as I open the front door.  I wave, smiling big, because I really AM looking forward to this new development in our already topsy turvy, upside down, unorganized but very happy life and I want them to know how welcome they are. We love Thy, surely we will love her parents.

They climb out of the car, exhausted after driving up route 1 in a snow storm, in the back of an old Volvo with two dogs occasionally breathing down their necks, bags of clothing, food and four bottles of wine packed around them.  Thy with a gorgeous arrangement of flowers, greenery and persimmons in her hands.  They are smiling and we meet, look into each others eyes and hug. 

Thuy, called Becky by her American friends, is tiny.  I have to lean way down to hug her and I'm sure she was on tip toes and she smells wonderful.  Cuong has a huge grin and a big hug for me and I have to lean a little bit down for him too, but the hug is strong and real.

How do I explain the immediate camaraderie shared and felt by all four of us.  Two cultures melding swiftly, all differences disappear with each new thing we learn about each other. Becky and I are women, mothers, home makers, so much in common, but she has suffered things I can't even imagine.  Things that have made her the strong amazing woman that she is. I listen in awe and then she laughs and her face is transformed and I instantly fall in love with her.  The men are soon sharing their views and thoughts on deeper things, getting philosophical then laughing heartily over something one of them experienced in their past.  Two men so different, yet so alike.  Good hearts are joined.

George says there was a moment when he knew: "Mom's okay"  and it wasn't long in coming.  Both he and Thy had a bit of apprehension wondering how bringing their parents together for the holiday would go.  They knew they'd be there to help "break the ice" but soon found out no breaking was needed, there was no ice. 

We ate.  Seafood chowder prepared by Brad with crusty bread and later apple pie by the fireplace.  We talked.  We went to bed that first night marveling over a phenomenon we never expected.  Our hearts are lifted and we look forward to the following days with these two strangers who have become our good friends in just a matter of hours.

The holiday comes and goes in a blur of helping hands, happy faces, shared confidences, quiet moments, cozy fires and lots of laughter and the growing conviction that this is so good.  No clocks, no schedule (turkey took way longer than expected) simply fitting in, relaxing, enjoying .. don't remember who made the coffee that time, but the pot was almost always full, as well as our bellies.  Pastries, fruit, nuts, scones, pie .. there was cheese and a baguette and crackers that never got sampled.

A day of exploring, icy air, slippery sidewalks, hot coffee, cashmere gloves and blankets to "ooh" over, quick snapshots, no bags to carry, then home for more coffee, nibbles of this and that.  Evening out, dinner their treat, taking our time, more talking, sharing, laughing, and home again to enjoy the fire, dogs in our laps, a puzzle and sleepy eyelids.

How do I explain this feeling that we are family already and having just met Becky, I don't want her to leave and she with tears in her eyes doesn't want to say good bye.  So we don't.  Instead it's "see you soon" as we begin to plan our next visit together.  GA is beautiful in May they say, and there will most definitely be more trips north for them.

All because a boy went west and a girl went east and they met in Salt Lake City.  How do I explain this feeling of having wider eyes and a larger heart and so much thankfulness running over and out. This melding of Doans and Graves is surely a very good thing, and yes, just being who we are is enough.

 

Love Lines

Written for you, my very dear and very much loved
Aunt Darlydene and Unca Mahlon.

Love Lines

I look at your faces, the love in each line
and realize so clearly I want them in mine
I've worried too much what to me age has done
the expressions of life, the hours in the sun

I love every line, every curl of gray hair
the wisps of affection I see you two share
your lines have a meaning, moments through time
spent with your love, your partner in "crime"

Lines made by laughter, by worry and care
they're made by the love that has kept you both there
the wrinkles and "crows feet" I don't like on me
Look so endearing on you two, you see ..

His eyebrows so quirky, her brown eyes so dear
his grumbles of vowels and her chortles so clear
her table made ready with scrumptious delights
and his coffee made early and always just right

From the time I was little Unc, you've been solidly there
trustworthy and upright with that lovely thick hair
(I had to, it rhymes! Plus with all of your teasing it only seemed fair)
You're a man full of wisdom, both in action and word
of an uncle more humble, more kind I've not heard

And you, my dear aunt, always found by his side
you've loved him completely since you were his bride
I'm thankful for memories of a home full of love
of warmth and a goodness that came from above

I pause as I write this ... it's surely not so
my heart hurts just thinking of the one who must go
I can't stop the tears that are blurring my sight
and wonder how you, aunt, can get through the night

and then I remember, am reminded with shame
you both have a Father you can cry for by name
a God who will hold you safe through each day
and a Comforter to heal us when you, unc, slip away.

Uncle I love you much more than you know
I'll miss you tremendously when you're called to go
but oh what is waiting just 'round the bend
is but the beginning for you, not the end.

And those lines that I've hated to see growing deep
are now lines I'm loving and wanting to keep
I only see beauty when I look at you two
and know with a certainty they're worth it, I do.

Thank you for your faithful example of love
both for each other and your Father above.


your loving niece,
Kelly 

Dad is here for a few days.  He doesn't like to swim, in fact he nearly drown this summer leaning over to get his cell phone that had fallen into the pond.  Head first into the water he went.  No one saw him and thankfully his head didn't hit one of the many large rocks that border the shore there, or this could be a very sad summer indeed.  He managed to get himself back up, and it was then that someone looked out one of camp's windows and saw him sitting on the dock soaking wet, pretty shaken up.  He hasn't been a great lover of water for years now, so this wasn't one of his best moments I'm sure.

I did manage to get him to remove socks and shoes, roll his jeans up and sit down on the edge of the pool deck and stick his feet into the water.  While I floated on my air mattress we talked about old days, old friends and old shoes.  Mostly he talked, and if I did, his part of the conversation would be many "what?"s with me repeating what I'd said.  Still .. I've tucked that memory safely into a compartment in my brain (and heart) that I can pull out when I especially need to and be glad we had that day.

When he's here he goes through his old photos and papers that he keeps here .. again.  He comes downstairs and hands me things, or asks me if I "remember this" and passes me a photo of years ago.  This morning he brought the album of he and Mum's 50th anniversary the year before she left us, 2002, and shows me a picture "was I really that bald?"  Yup, you were Dad, and Mum had you comb those hairs over your head for years.  I love that he's stopped doing that and has soft white fuzz on top of his head now.  I'm afraid if Mama was still with us, he'd still be "combing over".  Sorry Mum, the only GOOD thing about you not being here.

I miss her.  Sometimes so longingly it hurts, but mostly with a dull ache in my heart that I can ignore because of all the joy I have in my life.  It's when I want to ask her something, or share something or think about how much she would love her great grandchildren.  Then it isn't so easy to ignore.  She would so totally enter into my joy.  Daddy tends to forget what I just told him 10 minutes ago .. or less.

Two things Dad brought down and left on my desk.  A poem that dear Murhl Howland gave him years and years ago.  Written on the back it says "some verses to put in your bible to read at times"   Murhl is blind now and near the end of his long full life.  Loved by more people than we know.  He was in his prime when he gave Dad that poem, and Dad was most likely in the early years of being a husband and father.

The other item is a poem I wrote in October of 1992.  I think back .. I was 31.  Still so young with no idea what lay ahead of me in the next 22 years.  Briana was 10 and 1/2, Ashley just 8 and George only 4.  Babies.  That was yesterday wasn't it?   I write poems when something touches my heart and soul.  So I wonder what it was that made this poem come to me.  Perhaps I'd reached an age with my three children that I realized just how important parenting is and how much my parents did for me.  Perhaps I got a glimpse that the day would come when I could give back a little bit of what I'd gotten. I hope Daddy can tell I do remember and love him so much for all he did as I was growing up.

So here they are.  I will share them both with you.


"When I was Young"
To Mama and Daddy
10/28/92

You were there, a solid pair to comfort and protect,
I took from you so easily and you gave as I'd expect.
A mother first, my friend indeed; a chore became a game.
A father, true, you made me proud; you never sought for fame.

You led me through those tender years and taught me all that's good.
I took for granted love like yours, but now it's understood.
The little things that meant so much, you did them all with ease ..
I never knew the sacrifice, the time spent on your knees.

The tears you shed, the fears you felt, you hid them from young eyes.
I only knew the warmth of love, support in all my "tries".

My Dad, you'd do most anything to make our play more fun.
And Mom, you filled the rainy days with rainbows one by one.
The kitchen warm with baking the ice all cleared of snow.
Picnics and adventures on a road we didn't know.

"Going through the porthole" taking off my Daddy's boots,
stories told by firelight, all these make up my roots.
Volleyball on summer eves, those days I can't forget.
Parents who will enter in, the lucky few will get.

 Now I'm a mother learning still of what it takes to be
unselfish, kind and honest; these things you taught to me.

You were there, a solid pair who held the standard high.
The path you chose, each step was clear you didn't "just get by".
You were there a solid pair, the need was always mine.
Now I want to give to YOU my heart, my home, my time.

I love you,
Kelly


Poem shared by Murhl Howland and kept in Dad's bible for years now.
("some verses to put in your bible and read at times")

"I Understand"

Hast thou been hungry, child of mine?  I too have needed bread.
For forty days I tasted naught till by the angels fed.
Hast thou been thirsty?  On the cross I suffered thirst for thee.
I've promised to supply the need.  My child, come unto Me.

Perhaps thy way is weary oft, thy feet grow tired and lame.
I wearied when I reached the well.  I suffered just the same.
And when I bore the heavy cross, I fainted 'neath the load
and so I've promised rest for all who walk the weary road.

Does Satan sometimes buffet thee, and tempt thy soul to sin?
Doth faith and hope and love grow weak?  Are doubts and fears within?
Remember I was tempted there by this same foe of thine,
but he could not resist the word nor conquer power divine.

When thou art sad, and tears fall fast, My heart goes out to thee.
For I wept over Jerusalem, that place so dear to Me.
And when I came to Lazarus' tomb, I wept; my heart was sore.
I'll comfort thee when thou dost weep, when sorrows are all o'er.

Do hearts prove false when thine is true?  I know the bitter dart;
I was betrayed by one I loved.  I died of a broken heart.
I loved My own; they loved Me not.  My heart was lonely too.
I'll never leave thee, child of Mine.  My loving heart is true.

Art thou discouraged in thy work?  Doth ministry seem vain?
I ministered midst unbelief with them, midst greed and gain.
They would not hearken to my voice but scoffed with one accord.
Your labor is not in vain if done unto the Lord.

Have courage, then, My faithful friend.  I suffered all the way.
Thy sensitive and loving heart I understand today.
Whate'er thy grief, whate'er thy care, just bring it unto Me.
Yes, in thy day of trouble, call.  I'll remember thee.

The sun is bright, the air is cold
my eyes are tired, my bones grow old

It's looking like a beautiful day .. I have to squint to look out at the (still) snow covered lawn.  Which reminds me I need to go open the front door and let the heat that is trapped between it and the glass storm door free so I can enjoy it, feet curled up beneath me, one foot falling asleep, one knee starting to protest "we're too old for this".

I hobble to the front door, because my foot did fall asleep and is sending needles up my ankle, open it and feel the heat hit me, close my eyes and can almost imagine summer when I will go sit on the front steps with my coffee until I'm so hot I have to come back inside.

I'm content.  I look around me and see what nearly 25 years in one house has brought about .. one huge stuffed elephant slumped against the newest chair in the room, newest but not most favorite.   My favorite chair is the retro orange (upholstered by my mother in law years ago) chair that inspired all the other spots of orange in the room.  Who knew 20 years ago I would have orange in my living room?  Oldest daughter Briana is delighted.  I let her paint the bathroom, she and her siblings used, whatever color she wanted and found out years later that she hated it once it was done, but didn't dare admit it.  Not a great shade of orange, but we lived with it for 8 years.

Looking beyond this room into the kitchen I see the tulips hubby brought home to me.  Yellow tulips, the color of sunshine.

I think I will bundle up and take a walk in that wonderful sunshine.

I love Elephants.  I really do.  I love their enormousness, their voluminous ears and those incredibly large brown eyes.  And, they have an amazing capacity for love in that big elephant heart of theirs.

That being said, the "elephant in the room" ? .. not so much.  It takes up a LOT of space (air) and good grief let's just acknowledge it already.  My tongue hurts from biting it and I lose control now and then, forget that I'd promised myself I'd keep my mouth shut, and ask a question about said elephant, only to be met with silence.  It's not like it's a bad elephant either.

Then again, it's not like I have to be in the same room with it.   I think I'll just keep that door closed.  Maybe I'll lock it so I never go there again.  Yeah .. "that's the ticket". 

Just when you think

Just when you think you have it all figured out ..

You're feeling comfortable in your skin and things seem perfectly aligned, in their nooks and crannies where they belong ... or where you think they belong because you like it that way, and you're walking along feeling good about the world ..

something shifts.  You can almost hear the tumblers ..

It's not that it really affects you all that much. It's like a little rowboat floating peacefully alongside all the others tied up at the dock.  Then something bumps it (ever so slightly) and it turns just a little bit, enough to set all the other boats rocking .. which in turn, causes the inevitable ripples.

Now your skin doesn't feel so comfortable anymore.  It has nothing to do with you, but things are just a little skewed and off balance and your head feels a little odd and your stomach a little knotted, and you know you just have to put your deck shoes on, walk upright and hope no one can tell you're feeling seasick.

Because, before you know it, things will realign, you'll be stuffing new nooks and crannies and thinking you have it all figured out again .. for a season.

"Good Bye"

I stood there .. watching him breath .. in .. out .. in .. out, and wiped the foam that had formed at the corner of his mouth away.  His son, before leaving, had told him it was okay .. if he had to go somewhere while he was away.

I thought we had more time, perhaps another day, a night .. but his breathing suddenly changed and there was a long pause .. I told him he could go, it was his turn, his time, he'd served well and filled his place .. finished the race.

Another breath, another pause ... and then "he's gone now" from the nurse.  I sobbed.  With relief?  Sorrow ... joy that it was over for him, sadness for those who loved him most.  And then I thanked God.  How perfectly he'd gone.  Home to rest.  How we are blessed.

This wasn't my first "death" but  this one was one I had prayed for, not just for him, but for his son who was so weary it broke my heart to watch him.  And now it is done.  I can't believe there is no longer a need for me to wipe his face gently, smooth his blankets, tuck his feet in, kiss his forehead .. but I do, one more time.

His grand daughter arrives not knowing her beloved grandfather is gone, this man who was one of her best friends, who had opened his home and heart to her during a time when she expected it least .. this man she took into her home for weeks at a time and loved and cared for him the way not many grand daughters would.   I have to tell her.  This being more difficult for me than the death.  I have to place those words into her ear as I hug her  .. "he's gone".  She collapses, this tall niece of mine, and I hold onto her and gently lower her to the ground.  We sit on the driveway while she sobs and my heart splinters into little pieces for her, wishing so much I could take her pain away.   No, it can't be.  Don't let it be.  Let me say good bye.

Not long before his best friend arrives, someone else to tell who loved him so, a woman who helped us so much during those last weeks, someone who would miss him more than I ... and lastly his son, the man I love, the one who cared so lovingly for his Dad the last 2 months of his life.  It is done. It is done!  He races up the stairs and sees him lying peacefully on his pillow the way nurse Betsy and I had arranged him, so he looked as though he was just sleeping .. still.   He's thankful, so very thankful it's on this bed in this house that this great man, his father, took his last breaths.

Old man, I loved you .. you lived in our house and took away our privacy, our oneness and I was not happy at first, at the thought of sharing my husband, my home with you.  But a hand laid something on my heart, thank you God, and I could not bear to have you finish anywhere but home.  Our home, your home now.  It was just a few short weeks that we had you here.  Weeks I'm so thankful for now.  And thankful for a oneness that is stronger than ever because you were here.

Yes, I loved you more than I ever thought I would, and you loved me.  Your silly, unorganized, unladylike daughter in law, so not like her mother in law, and yet .. you loved me . and I thank you for that.  I'm so glad we got to say those words before medicine took away your ability to.  But then the squeeze of your hand told me so and the look in your eyes.  You asked me once "how do you know?"  when you couldn't get all the words out.  That is how I knew .. I hope, dear old man, that I helped make your last days the best they could be so you knew too how much I loved you.

Funny the things that come to mind as you're driving along .. words that pop out of no where, or maybe it's the wind blowing out all the cobwebs that have collected between your ears in the past couple weeks.  And oh does that wind feel good.  Tossing my hair every which way, windows down, sun roof open in my Trail Blazer as I head into Rockland to do a "chucks and wipes" run.

I took 2 semesters of Creative Writing.  I loved it and the first semester we learned LOTS of vocabulary words.  Words that I imagine I've forgotten but were drilled into my brain, their spelling and their meaning.  I was good at memorizing back then and always got 100% on vocabulary tests.  I know I wouldn't do so good if tested today.

I'll be writing something, or talking to someone and a word pops out of my mouth or onto the paper and if I'm asked what it means, I'll feel a little timid about answering because I'm really not sure where it came from or if I'm certain I know the meaning.  99% of the time, when I look it up, I'm relieved to discover I had used it correctly in the sentence. 

I'm sorry I can't remember my Creative Writing teacher's name, it must be in there somewhere, along with all those other words drilled into me.  I would thank her, wherever she may be, these 35 years later.

Moments

Feeling a little frazzled I'm thinking of my pillow and the man who will be laying next to me lightly snoring. The past few days have been a whirlwind of kids and grand kids and I almost want to hold my breath so I can stop time and capture it all and relive each amazing moment.    Each. Moment.  I think of the years of moments I've had.  Even the not so amazing ones because there are so many more of those.  Moments suspended in time.  Moments that if possible I would take down from a shelf and hold them next to my heart and relive how I felt .. eagerness, tenderness, giddiness, sheer joy or even desperate sorrow.  Moments that have made me who I am.  I'm 51 now and there are moments I wish I could do over and do differently but it's too late and it's okay.  I'm tired and it's time to go climb the stairs to that lightly snoring man .. he will stir and roll over and wrap an arm around me and tell me he loves me and I will feel so very thankful for moments that are mine to treasure, hold onto tightly or to let go ..