Tara’s Hydrangeas

I remember hydrangeas from my childhood and I love them. Today we see them all over our local flower markets and in many of our brave neighbor’s yards. There are large ones that blossom into large bushes and smaller ones used for borders. Their colors are enchanting; pure white, ivory and blue are prominent although we are seeing more deep colors as well.

My lovely white and blue hydrangeas were a gift from my dear daughter in law, Tara. She went to an event last night and was given one of the centerpieces to take home. Knowing how much I love flowers, she saved them for me! I feel both honored and blessed. Her affectionate gift went straight to my dining room table where they sit guarded by my two wicker hurricane candle holders. What a lovely combination!

Thank you Tara for thinking of me! It is so like you to keep others in mind rather than yourself. You are so generous and I love you with all of my heart!

Colors of my Closet

One of my most amazing, young friends, Kelley, came to help me organize my closet last Saturday. It was not only too full but I had a suitcase and a wardrobe box full of clothes and shoes sitting in the garage and everything needed a home. I was utterly overwhelmed! Matter of fact, I was paralyzed! I have not been feeling well lately which has prevented my tackling this job on my own, so her help and support were invaluable.

Kelley arrived looking adorable. She was a vision of loveliness as she whisked in the front door ready to work. Because she was aware of my poor well-being, she insisted I sit while she lifted each piece for either my approval or disapproval. One by one she lifted the articles of clothing to be kept or discarded.  If several seconds went by with an empty response from me she usually encouraged me with a “no” and we moved on to the next item. We took several water breaks and sat outside to enjoy a chilly spring day while solving several world problems and by the time two hours had passed we had four large plastic bags ready for the Goodwill!

Now that there was a closet full of good quality clothing, Kelley made certain I was comfortable and she organized everything into colors! It took her only an hour to coordinate everything. Oh to be young again!

I can’t tell you how beautiful my closet looks not to mention how grateful I am. Not many people would spend their Saturday assisting a friend like Kelley did. She is to be commended! Thank you my dear friend for your spirited helpfulness and for all of your love and attention! 

My Own Chef

My home is a modest two bedroom down, one bedroom up with a loft. It has a 1980’s living room/dining room combo with an eat in kitchen. It’s nothing fancy but comfortable for the two of us! It sits on a corner lot and its large yard houses a big pool. I am very fortunate in many respects in that my children all live close by in Dallas and I see five of my seven grandchildren quite often. These fortunes are all undoubtedly gifts which I cherish each and every day. But there is one thing that makes all of this just a little bit of heaven. You see, I have my very own personal chef!

I am blessed to have a dear husband, Guy, who prepares all of our meals. They are not usually ordinary meals, oh no! The food he sets before me has been given great thought and was prepared with sugar and spice, everything nice and two very dear, loving hands!

The meal above was served just this morning! Homemade crepes deliciously topped with his classic chunky apple syrup and a side of Canadian bacon! You just have to imagine how wonderful they were. There was a sprinkling of cinnamon sugar inside the folded crepe and with a cup of coffee on the side it made a perfect Sunday morning meal!

I know how lucky I am and my thank yous shoot out rapidly with every meal. He is a true chef and master of cuisine and I am more grateful than anyone will ever know.

Thank you Guy….I love you dearly! 

Forlorn and Lonely Garden

My forlorn and lonely garden sits midway between our home and the pool. In as much as we moved here in the late summer nothing was done to the garden last year so it patiently rests waiting for loving hands and sore backs to come to its aid and rescue.

I can only imagine what my pitiful, lonesome garden dreams about for its future; fragrant bushes of rosemary and sweet stems of bright green basil, tall multicolored snap dragons lifting your eyes to the abundant purple butterfly bushes and long flowing stems of a single yellow forsythia set in the background. Dark red bark replaces the ugly black that is there now and grape vines crawl up the wrought iron fence and spread their arms wide. Rows of pink and white petunias line up like toy soldiers along the borders and cinnamon colored begonias encircle the tree. Old bricks define the many herbs and bits of moss and ferns peep out from behind the barren rocks. Pots are set randomly around chocked full of spiky plants, ivies and vibrant red geraniums. A newly purchased red umbrella will shade that which the sun hits too harshly and chairs with soft yellow cushions call for company.

The garden knows how much work this will take but thankfully it is patient, calm and composed. It will wait for the spring days to warm a bit. I, on the other hand, am impatient so I have drawn a map of gorgeous days to come. I have detailed on paper what my garden sees as its future. Together, we will make a great team. I can't wait!

My Savior

Sometimes I don’t feel very well acquainted with myself. I feel somewhat like a lost soul. I’m not sure whether it has anything to do with depression or if it is born from dreams I've had during the night. Maybe it is the quiet life I lead due to poor health and late middle age.

None the less, this disparaging sensation saddens me and makes me want to just get into bed and search my mind for what my life was before now. Very little stops me from doing this. It is almost like an addiction to crawl under the covers when I feel lost. The question I ask myself is “Who am I and where am I going?” The answers are few and far between and my responses are hazy. Although the act of doing this crawling in to bed thing is essential to my well being, it helps little. There is, however, a solution to this giant and uncomfortable feeling. It is a visit from my brother, Richard.

Guy, my husband, says he loves to hear me laugh when Richard is here. I think those chuckles are me finding myself again! I begin to remember where I came from and who I have become. Just being in the same room with Richard can ease my empty ache. It’s not that we talk about the past so much as we talk about things that matter. He keeps my mind busy and I hang onto his every comical word. He has a brilliant sense of humor enjoyed by all who meet him. I lighten up when I am with him. He’s like a gigantic shot of fast acting antidepressant. Richard makes me feel needed and important. He shares his new utube finds, tells me his latest jokes and he recites his most recent antics. He hugs me and he holds me.

Richard is coming today and his timing is excellent. My hollow heart needs his companionship. I know I still have a lot to offer. I just need Richard here to remind me.

Thanks so much for coming, Richard. Thank you for being my savior. 

An Angel Tulip

From a book I once read called The Angel Book by Karen Goldman, I found a 

short, concise phrase I have always particularly liked.

“Angels are reminders of what we’re really here for.”

Because my dear kind Father so loved tulips, I see in them angels reminding me of why I am here. Their charming petals flow from the stem like lovely wings of many colors. They have a soft sheerness and an everlasting calmness that put me immediately at ease. They flop and play, as angels do in my mind, and they bring upon my often sad face a gentle smile of remembrance.

We always took tulips to my Dad when he was in his last days at the hospital. He would light up and for just a moment I would think he was well. They made him childlike as he would laugh and speak of them as friends.

I never knew why he so loved them. That has remained one of those questions I wish I had asked of him. Isn't it strange how something so important to me now was so unimportant then?

I know he is looking down upon our orange tulips on the dining room table. I look at them and they most certainly remind me why I am here; to attempt to set the same exemplary example he set for all of us. He was loving, kind, intelligent, funny, well read but most of all his love for his fellow man was bar none. 

I’m trying Dad, but you’re a tough act to follow!

I miss you, Poppy! 

iPad Babies Vs. Crocodile and Shark

When was the last time you watched a 2 year old baby operate an iPad? Well, if your answer is never you would be in for the most amazing sight ever. I don’t know about the majority of 63 year olds, but the new iPad we just bought intimidates the living daylights out of me! It reminds me of the first smart phone I ever owned; I don’t trust it. In my mind, it’s smarter than I am!

This all comes to mind because my dear Grandchildren were visiting last night and Owen, who is 2, entertained himself for at least an hour using the iPad. I watched in utter amazement as he instinctively pressed the right buttons to get where he wanted to be. When he tired of a game he knew exactly what to do to get to another one. He was fast, too. His fingers flew over the screen like lightening. A mistake never bothered him and his attention span was utterly unbelievable.

His Mom told me he learned how to do this from watching Samuel who is 5! Imagine a 5 year old teaching a 2 year old how to operate an iPad! It blows me away!

I eventually tried to play the Lego game and failed miserably. How humiliating! A huge part of me makes me very proud and grateful. I am glad they are so astute. The competition in the world is going to be rough for them and their computer skills will be mandatory even in kindergarten. I was happy though to see them put the iPad down and begin to play cars and super heroes and crocodile and shark with their Peepaw Guy! I guess considering the three generations involved it was a well rounded evening with entertainment from all levels. But, my favorite was the crocodile and shark tussle!! That was just plain fun!  

My Gentle Handyman

When things go wrong at my house

There comes a kind and gentle Handyman.

His work is quiet and he’s stealth as a mouse

And things get fixed with his accurate, caring hand.

His name is Guy and he loves me!

The disposal breaks and he runs for the part.

Never do I agonize or feel worried.

His expertise and wisdom come straight from his heart.

I married this man, not for money, fame or fortune,

But for love and honesty trust and emotion.

You see, his style is soft yet thorough

And he fixed my heart and enhanced my morals.

 The Good, The Bad and The Ugly

It doesn't matter if the sun is shining or if it is pouring down rain. It can be a good day outside a bad day or an ugly day…makes no difference. Depression and anxiety are a part of my life and I fight it with claws each and every day.

There seems to be neither rhyme nor reason as to when depression rears its ugly head. Today is ugly! It is standing face to face with me and its shadow lingers when I try to walk away.

Depression makes you tired. Too tired to do the laundry or empty the dishwasher. It impedes reading or sensible thinking. If only someone would call. No one calls anymore because text messaging has incarcerated the human race.

Last night I was better so I was reading and I found out something very interesting from the book I am reading called Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell. He writes about a town in Pennsylvania where very few residents have any of the modern day killer diseases. After much research it is decided the townsfolk have so few illnesses because they actually socialize with one another on a daily basis. They talk to one another face to face and live in close knit family groups. I found this both interesting and not at all surprising.

I miss my family. I miss my children. Growing old is tough. It occurred to me…No wonder I’m depressed!

Then I realized…I guess it’s up to me! So, I sent a text to my son and his wife and invited them for dinner. Instant medicine! Beats any pill I've ever taken. They accepted my invite and will be here tomorrow night! A little more energy is creeping in to fill the stagnant void of loss and sadness. I just needed to reach out. Oh, I hope I remember this when it gets bad next time! 

THE OLD LADY WHO LIVED IN A SHOE

My dear daughter in law stopped by with the kiddos yesterday and, per usual, we all had fun. We had no plans but to sit and chatter and watch the boys play so we enjoyed the time to sip coffee, compare notes and allow our stress levels to diminish!

She mentioned they needed an idea for Mother Goose Day at school. Without much thought I envisioned one of my son’s size 16 boots and “The Old Lady Who Lived in a Shoe” jumped into my mind. It’s strange how sometimes you fight an idea and other times it claims you immediately! Well, this idea practically assaulted me and I could see Samuel standing with a scarf around his head, holding a huge boot with toy figures oozing out its sides!

I guess you can see the inspiration came to fruition by that afternoon! Tara added the apron…great idea, Tara…and the boot had lots of laces on which to tie the figures and more importantly Samuel was a hit at school!

I was pleased my idea worked. It was the best kind of fun as it cost not a penny and it gave both Samuel and Tara a fun project to work on together!

Bash Complaining!

Bash Complaining!

Lent has never been an engaging event in my life. By that I mean I have never really entertained the idea of giving up something to honor the life and death of Our Savior, Jesus Christ. Selfish, ugh? Yeah, I know!

This year things are a bit different. Guy and I have been attending worship services at a lovely, quaint, Lebanese Catholic church in Lewisville, TX with our dear friends Kelley and Roroc. Although not Catholic, I enjoy the peacefulness and the amity the church provides. The incense and chanting music calm me. For several weeks now the discussions concerning lent have seeped in to my brain the sacrificial seeds of Lent has been planted in my being and I think I may finally be ready to make a small sacrifice.

My surrender may sound rather pitiful to some of you out there who are giving up candy and sweets and drink, but as I am the beholder of the forfeit my idea feels extremely worthwhile and meaningful. This is it….. I have decided to let go of my incessant complaining and opt for a more positive approach to living in my undersized home. I am going to bash complaining!

Guy and I moved to a much smaller home last summer. It is modest by comparison to what we did own. Its tiny 1900 square feet has been a thorn in my side since we moved in and I have been quite obnoxious in exclaiming my childish behavior. I wanted all to know how miserable I was to be crammed in to the little rooms with minimal storage. The feeling of claustrophobia has haunted me daily and my continued moaning must be, by now, a retched sound to Guy’s nightly arrivals home from work.

I plan to be grateful for a lovely home in which to share my blessed life with Guy and our puppies. No more whining and crying about what use to be. That was then and now is now. Our expenses are more attune to what we bring in and there is plenty of room for us to enjoy each other’s company.  It’s clean and decorated with lots of lovely pieces of furniture and accessories. Why, there is even a pool in the back and the yard is begging for a new garden. What more could a girl ask for, for heaven’s sake?

I also plan to continue to pray for the strength to stay on board with my plan. I hope our dear Lord spares just a half a second helping me to lift my spirits! I think he will…what do you think?

That’s It!

I always sit in the same chair whenever we visit Mike and Tara’s home. I guess it’s a bit rude of me since it is undoubtedly the most comfortable recliner known to mankind! It’s just that the children sit on my lap and there is always so much more room to snuggle, read and look at their newest artistic creations. What can I say? It’s a Grandmother’s chair!

Well, the story was no different last night when we stopped by to pick up the new iPad Mike had so kindly picked up for us. I meandered over to the chair, fell in comfortably and was immediately surrounded by my two precious grandsons, Samuel and Owen. The events of the day began to spill out of Samuel’s mouth as he told me about his new helicopter he had drawn. Even though it somewhat resembled the pirate ship from the weekend I was delighted with his creativity and excitement. Such fun I was having as they began to tumble in front of me with remnants of the Olympics lingering in their limbs! Samuel sat on my lap and received his traditional Lulu back scratch and I warmed in the moment just touching him and feeling the weight lift from his slight shoulders.

Before long I was being covered with tiny baby blankets used years before and the smallest of small baby stuffed animals were surrounding my neck and shoulders. I was cozy warm and melting with love for these precious boys.

It was then I realized something I had been reading about had happened. I thought to myself, “that’s it!” In other words, there are no magical happenings that beget oohs and ahhhs all the time. Instead there are gentle moments, just like last night that were “it”; this was the magic we all dream about and it was happening to me right then!

How happy I was! Thanks boys!

God and Mary Doth Provide

God and Mary Doth Provide

My dear Mother always said how strange it was how life unfolds! She was right and I have known it for quite some time. Unfortunately, I often forget her presentiment.

But, it happened to me today, you see. Life unfolded exactly when and how it was supposed to; I received a text from my friend Mary.

Guy was telling me how important it would be for me to spend my time volunteering. He knows I have too much time on my hands and it often gobbles me up and swallows me whole and I land upside down in the state of unwelcome depression. This is a place I can easily spend much hated time and I tire of it quickly but how does one go about regurgitating sad thoughts? I knew he was right, but tired, poor health still keep me weary of venturing out 

for long periods of time. I was just plain frightened to reach out.

But God and Mary doth provide!

As Guy and I spoke and I cried, a text came in on my phone. It was from my dear friend Mary Yates. Her church group is crocheting tiny blankets for impoverished families to use for their newborns and did I know how to crochet? Well, I don’t crochet well but the thought of my being involved in this much needed project was immediately apparent to me! Someone needs me! What an empowering thought. There is actually something I can do that will help a small, defenseless human being.

I sent an excited text back and will chat with Mary this afternoon. A group of woman who call themselves the “Knit Wits” command the project so I will drive to Mary’s home in Dallas which is, unto itself, a difficult task for me, but the push to go is compelling! I can’t wait to get started!

Thank you Mary for helping my life unfold. I am confident it will make me and a small baby very, very happy and cozy warm inside our hearts!

Bedtime Baseball

Bedtime Baseball

Our latest family photo greeted me on Facebook before I went to sleep last night.  My husband suggested I take a quick look before slumber hit so I flicked on my phone and there it was. A photo of my youngest grandson Judson who is 18 months old, sound asleep on his tummy, holding a baseball. I was expecting to see a teddy or a blankie or maybe even a pacifier, but certainly not a well used baseball! He had it tucked under his arm as though ready for the next day’s play!

The dear photo caused me to immediately crawl inside his dreams. I could see him holding the over sized ball in his tiny hand and throwing it quite accurately to his Daddy. It had to be accurate because he is his Daddy’s son! You see, Sam, his Daddy, my son, played baseball day and night while growing up. He followed his older brother’s footsteps and they played hour upon hour together and with their neighborhood friends.

All of my memories flooded back to me and I imagined myself sitting proudly on the bleachers watching both of my dear boys as they played themselves to popularity and success. I know this will be Judson’s future and I am just a bit jealous that I will play the part of Grandparent and not Mother. I loved those days and I miss them.

Batter up Juddy boy!