Strawberry Ice Cream

What do you do when you are stressed?  Do you have a de-stressing tactic?  Or are you a person who never gets stressed? 

There has been more than one time in my life when I have snapped at someone - just because I was stressed and I absolutely hate for that to happen.  Unfortunately the older I get the less tolerance I have so that happens much more than I am comfortable with.

I am always looking for a solution.

My friend, Tamra offered me one.  Tamra and I met when we were both working in Corporate America.  We were in an Administrative Professionals Group.  We meet for supper about every six weeks. 

This past week was one of those times.  Our chats usually include what's going on with her job, one that she has loved for many years.  Like most "jobs", this one has good and bad days.  And it always carries a certain amount of - stress.

She talked and I listened.  I endeavored to be sympathetic.  I even started to give her some words of wisdom - including Scripture.

And then Tamra said - "well, this is what I do."

"I have a little pad in my lower desk drawer," she said, "Whenever I read something that is encouraging, whether it is Scripture or someone's words, I write those words on that pad.  Then when I am feeling discouraged or even a little frightened, I will pull that pad out and be reminded that life probably isn't as bad as it feels at that moment - and be encouraged to keep on going. It really helps me when I feel stressed."

Sounds like a good plan to me.

As we continued our chat, Tamra talked about a recent visit with her daddy in a little town not too far from Atlanta.  Her mom passed away a few months ago and she's been going up occasionally to clean out closets and help her dad as much as possible.

She talked about a recent visit with him.  She said they got into his little truck and drove out to a farm where they picked strawberries.  When their baskets were full, they each got a strawberry ice cream cone.  She said they had a super time - sitting in the cab of the truck - continuing to visit and enjoying the ice cream.

I told her that sounded like a good story for her little note pad. 

At this time in my life the things that stress me most are related to what my next step should be, would be, could be, and of course because my 89 year old mother lives with me - there is some stress involved there and most of the time it is my mother whose ears are the receptacle for my pontifcation that is related to my stress!

Tamra's plan should work for me - I might not have a little note pad in my desk - but I can reach into my memory bank and pull out a time that made me smile.

The world offers stress relievers - pills, Yoga, a glass or two of wine - and what about that old Calgon advertisement  - - Calgon, take me away?  Remembering a happy time will do the same thing.  Just ask Tamra.

I love a man in a uniform

Sunday, May 13, 2012 - Time to head on home.

Surely there would be no adventure today.  All we needed to do was travel the two hours back to Jacksonville.

The dining area was filled with young men and a couple of women in field uniforms.  Some of those marines the desk clerk had told us about.

Bagels and hard boiled eggs, instant oatmeal, juice... We had finished our breakfast and as we were leaving, I realized mother wasn't walking out with me.  I turned around --

"Thank you for what you are doing," she said to first one and then another.

I thought daddy would be so proud of her (as would my veteran son, Tray and nephews, Chad and Brad Williams). 

Brad Williams, Earl Huffingham Tray Parker, Chad Williams - WWII Memorial, May 2008

And I thought I bet some of these soldiers will always remember when the pretty white-haired grandma on a walker went out of her way to say "thanks".

Interstate 95 was in my view as I suddenly saw some blue lights begin to flash on a car in the median.

"I'm getting a ticket," I said to my mother as I slowed down, pulled off the highway and took out my drivers license and registration (at least I knew exactly where it was).

The nice Georgia trooper thanked me for being ready and told me how fast I was going.  I was shocked.  I must have thought I was already on the Interstate.

He left and when he returned with the ticket and my instructions about the next steps - i.e. where and when to pay the fine, he had another word for me.

"Ma'am," he said, "I'm not going to ticket you for this, but in Georgia, you aren't allowed to have anything impede the name of the county where your tag is registered."

I, of course, have a University of Florida frame around mine.

Actually in Florida, all license tags do not have a county inscribed.  I've been checking that one out.

This nice man in a uniform must be a Georgia fan.

The Florida state line, the Jacksonville city limit, Mandarin and Paddle Boat Lane ....

We arrived home to the laughter of grandchildren, Happy Mother's Day wishes and presents, and the hydrangea in the front yard bursting into color.

It was good to be home.  I was glad I had done this.  And then of course my mother said -

"So, when's our next adventure?"

Sad and Glad

Saturday, May 12th  - I was a little sad that the trip was soon going to end.  I wanted to go to Charleston and Savannah even though both of those towns hold special memories for me and I thought that might make me sad.

A line from an old song came to mind - "even be glad just to be sad - thinking of you".  And I heard a little voice in my head - "you are making NEW memories and in just a few hours your house will be filled with the laughter of your grandchildren". . . Sunday would be Mother's Day.  I had a lot to be glad about.

Our last visit would be with Doris Johnson Brockington in Goose Creek, South Carolina.

Doris's mother, Martha Louise, was  granddaddy Nesmith's sister. Aunt Mattie Lou was a favorite of my grandma Nesmith, so much that she named her first daughter, Iva Louise.  My mother was also very fond of Aunt Mattie Lou and I grew up knowing that Doris is one of my mother's favorite cousins. 

The two cousins enjoyed visiting as at her invitation, I enjoyed meandering around her beautiful home.

I took note of a familiar photograph.  I had seen a similar one many times.  Taken about 1930, it was Solon T. Nesmith who with Annie Rebecca Gamble had been the parents of Alva, Gertrude, Gerdette, Ellie, Mattie Lou and Solon.  There was also a little girl, Etta, who died in early childhood. 

Interesting note of the day was that it was the day that granddaddy Nesmith had been born - 115 years ago.  Doris told me that he had always called her chatterbox and I wondered why he never called me that - I guess it's because he was too busy calling me (and all the other females in our family) "sister".

After a delicious lunch, it was time for the short trip into Charleston.

I have wonderful memories of a day that Rich Suhey and I spent in Charleston in 1997 after Jennifer and Jeff Calabrese's wedding.  My living room remains the home of a beautiful print of a Charleston door which began a collection of similar prints that I still enjoy.

When we were planning this trip, I determined that we should not travel more than a couple hours at a time.  So rather than come on home, we were going to spend the night in Savannah.  I have "Rich" memories of Savannah also - and a print of a door to prove it.  Besides my mother had never been to The Lady and her Sons (AKA - Paula Deen's).

Thanks to my friend Sandy Harbison, we had a great rate at a Best Western.  We checked in and put our things away and were off into the city - where of course we could find no parking place.

We drove by The Lady a couple of  times and the line was not long.  So mother suggested that I put her out, she would get in line and hopefully I would be back before they had a table for us.(Don't stop reading here).

With a little hesitation, I decided that was our best option.  Now remember, my mother goes nowhere without the assistance of "Big Blue", her walker.

We had seen a parking garage.  It now alluded me. I seemed to be driving in a circle.  When I realized that I had driven past The Lady and Her Sons at least twice, I knew I was driving in a circle.  Once when I rounded the corner where the restaurant is located, I put my window down and was able to speak to a hostess.  My mother was fine.  She was in the gift shop.

Finally - I made the proper turn and ended up at the entrance to the earlier observed parking garage.   I gave the attendant a $10 bill.  He told me to turn left at the arrow.  As I turned, I saw the way the pavement was going - DOWN.  Before I found a parking place I was on level four.  Maybe it should have been called minus four.   Me, whose least favorite thing in the world is a tunnel of any kind!

For someone who is really good at remembering, I often lose my car once I've taken my leave of it.

So, I took out my little notepad and wrote down exactly where I was.

I found the elevator, the doors that opened to the street and walked back to The Lady and Her Sons (by this time I was well familiar with its location).  My mother was still in the Gift Shop.  She told me that they now accept reservations - no wonder the line was so short - and that we were to be seated at 9:00 PM.  It was 7:45.  I knew that there was no way that my diabetic mother could wait that long to eat.  And I knew that if we ate at 9, then I would be walking back to the parking garage and into that abyss  - well after 10 - so we decided to forgo the Southern culinary experience this time.  My mother had purchased two items so she can say "I've been to Paula Deen's" now.

The Best Western's desk clerk had told us that there were 100 Marines staying in the hotel for the night and that we might hear them.  I was worried about that - for about a minute. Time to bed down - tomorrow we would head home - the adventure was over - but wait...there was one more surprise...that comes in the next blog.

He calls me Paula Raye

We were on the sixth day of our journey.  MapQuest had led us through Andrews and to Georgetown and we were heading south, on the way to Moncks Corner, South Carolina.

I remembered listening to a voice mail in April.

"Aunt Iva, this is Ken.  We got your letter and we would love for you and Paula Raye to visit us".

Paula Raye?  It has been a long time since we've seen each other...we being my cousin Kenneth Huffingham and me.

Mother had written Ken to see if our trip to South Carolina might include a visit with him and his wife, Laura.  It had been more than 10 years since I had seen him. He joined the navy right out of high school and although we have seen him occasionally, he has lived away from Florida since that time.  Both of Ken's parents (his dad was my dad's older brother, Ted) are deceased.

Ken's message invited us to spend a night with them and we accepted.

And now we were on our way to their home in Moncks Corner.

I was excited to see my older cousin.  Like many people, the older I get, the more my extended family means to me.  I have fun memories of our childhood and looked forward to the visit. 

A telephone call assured me that we were on the right track in our quest to get to Ken and Laura's home but when we found the address I was a bit taken aback.

There were several cars in the drive.  I thought I might have the wrong place.  I knocked on the door and heard. "come in".  I was not about to "come in".  The door opened and Laura, on a cane, greeted me.  Her daughter Amber was going to help us get our things.

"We've had a few things going on around here", Amber said.

"Mom had knee surgery four weeks ago and on Tuesday, dad had a mountain bike accident and he has a bad break to his elbow, upper arm and shoulder".

By this time we had mother in tow and were walking into the house.  There was an immobilized Ken.

Oh me.  We should go to a hotel  I thought.

Oh no.  They seemed genuinely pleased to have us in their home and set about to make us welcome.

The cars belonged to Amber and her husband who was helping them.  Laura's dad was also there.  He had wanted to meet some of Ken's family.
Pretty neat right?

Within moments, they were listening as mother told first one and then another story of what's been happening in our family.  I had heard the same stories all week and by this time I was about done.  I teased my mother and told her I was going to call one of the stories I am including in this recap of our adventures - The Queen of Detail - Give me grace.

However as I think back on that time what I remember most is the way Ken sat and listened.   And I remember Laura's words to my mother.

"We just love these stories, I think you should write them all down".

We talked about Ken's dad, Theodore James Huffingham, Jr.   I told him that our cousin, Diane, and I have decided we inherited Uncle Ted's keen interest in the news.  We remember he always knew everything that was going on everywhere because he read every word in the Florida Times Union - every day and watched the evening news religiously.  We also talked of our granddaddy - the man we called Papa and we mentioned briefly the pain we all experienced because of the alcohol and substance abuse that had taken a  toll on our family.

I shared a childhood experience from a time when I stayed with them and Aunt Frankie, who was his mother, insisted that I eat cooked carrots (something that I love today).  I wondered if he and his older brother Reggie were bothered at all when the four Huffingham granddaughters (me, Debbie, Cindy and Diane) came along. Did we steal their thunder? Were they glad when Jonathan and Lester came along so that there was an even number of each sex?

Ken also told us about Reggie who is now being cared for in an assisted living facility in Virginia.  Although it made us a little sad, we were also glad to know that he is safe.

As we left Ken and Laura to be on our way to visit another of my mother's cousins, I felt a deep sense of satisfaction - first of all for my mother, who had really looked forward to seeing one of daddy's nephews, second for Ken, who seemed so eager to know about all of us and finally for me -

It's been a long time since anyone has called me Paula Raye -

Kenneth Charles Huffingham - surrounded by Mother, Laura's daughter, Amber and Laura

  

 .

Cousins and those who wish they were

When we were thinking about this trip,  I knew my mother would enjoy seeing two of her cousins who live in South Carolina.  We contacted Katherine Tisdale Shaffer and Doris Johnson Brockington who both responded that they would really enjoy our visit.

I remembered being in Katherine and her husband, Vern's home in about 1980.  They had not lived in the Kingstree area very long, having come there from Washington, D.C. where he worked in the print press area of the Smithsonian Institution.  I found him fascinating and looked forward to another visit. 

Vern met us on the driveway and ushered us in to where Katherine was putting the finishing touches on a lovely lunch - BBQ and all the trimmings and a lovely blueberry dessert.  Mother visited with her at the stove while I went on the porch and listened as Vern told me stories of his work at the Smithsonian, about the way Hugo took several of their trees and about how much he misses teaching his Sunday School class.  He has had several operations for cancerous lesions on his face, near his eyes and he doesn't see as well as he used to.

He does see well enough that he has continued to print various scripture verses and gives them as a gift.  When we left we had two little plaques that included John 3:16 and I had two versions of Jeremiah 29:11.  He had asked me what my favorite scripture was.

To be honest, I never can remember the reference but I can always say "For I know the plans I have for you...". 

He just happened to have two prints of the verse.

Our next stop would be Andrews.

My plan was to just "ride through there".  My mother was born in Andrews and I thought it enough that we just say "we went to Andrews".

However, my mother had another idea.

A dear friend of our family, Cathy Skipper, works and lives in Andrews.  We could just pop in where she is a dental hygienist and say hello and then be on our merry way.

I think it's good to tell how we met Cathy here.  Many years ago, my grandma Lonnie was sitting on the front porch of Aunt Gloria and Uncle Leon's house in Florence.  Cathy was riding her bicycle and had an accident.  Grandma Lonnie called for help and the next thing anyone knew Cathy was in the house being taken care of.  She's been in our family ever since that day. 

We contacted her and she was not working.  We could come to see her at her home.

Hum.  I hadn't MapQuested that.

Not to worry.  She gave me the directions - including the landmarks to look for.  Have you ever driven in the country.  A mile seems like about 5 miles.  I would think - oh me...we've missed a turn and suddenly there would be the landmark. 

We arrived at the address she had given me.  It was actually her parents home.  I think my mother had met them, but I had not.  They were just as delightful as Cathy and we had a wonderful visit.

Paula, Mother, Cathy

My childhood friend, Linda Peppers Gurganious always tells people she is my cousin.  I refute her statement but always follow it with "well, we might as well be".  That's how we feel about Cathy Skipper.  She is not our "kin" but she might as well be!

The cousins visit was turning out to be right fun.

A quick drive into Georgetown so that my mother could see how it has been restored and we were off to Monck's Corner, South Carolina.  My mother had seen her cousin that day.  Now it was time for me to see mine!

Country Road, Take me Home...

We left Darlington around 9:00 AM on Friday, May 11.  We were headed to the country.

Actually we were going to have lunch with my mother's cousin, Katherine Shaffer and her husband, Vern who live in Kingstree.  Katherine's mother, Gerdette, was my granddaddy Nesmith's sister. I have wonderful memories of visiting Aunt Gerdette as a teenager (along with my sister, Cindy, and our cousins, Ellie and Jimmy Capp) and in about 1980 my children and I spent a delightful evening in the Shaffer home.  I was excited about seeing them.

I do not have a GPS.  I do use MapQuest.  I know that sometimes when making that choice, one might end up driving the scenic route.

When we started planning this trip, my mother wanted me to look at her Atlas.

Oh no.  I didn't need an Atlas.

I should have remembered.  Last year when my friend, Deborah Hansen and I went to Baltimore and I put the routes together (via MapQuest and AAA), she still kept saying that she wished she had her Atlas so she could see the "whole picture".

At any rate.  I had not looked at an Atlas, nor any other maps.  I was good to go.

We were on Highway 52 on the way to Kingstree.  I've been to Kingstree before.  I knew the way. 

But wait, MapQuest told me to turn left on Cade, right on Hemingway (there's a familiar name), left on Nesmith (very familiar, since my mother is a Nesmith by birth); right on Turkey Creek (my mother remembered that area very well).

This is not the road we traveled but it's not that far from the way it was!

Now what MapQuest didn't tell me was that some of those turns were onto roads that were NOT PAVED.  And that they were right down the middle of crops  - corn and tobacco to be exact. I promise you we could have reached out the window and "pulled tobacco" something my mother did as a child.

I kept telling her that she should be glad I got the directions from MapQuest rather than her or she might be in "big trouble".   

                                            

We arrived at Vern and Katherine's and had a lovely lunch (that story next).  Next stop, Andrews, South Carolina.  I looked at MapQuest.  The directions told me to turn left our of the Shaffer's drive. I did and realized what lay ahead of me was - you guessed it -a dirt road.

We had gone a very short distance when to the left I saw Aunt Gerdette's house.

This photo of the corner of Aunt Gerdette's house was taken in 1998

I remembered the day Jimmy dropped the platter of friend chicken on the floor and Aunt Gerdette told us not to worry because she had just mopped the floor that morning.  I remembered when our family visited the house (now owned by her granddaughter, Rebecca) in 1998 and what a fun time that was. 

We turned into the drive - it was a great place to turn around. 

We never made it to Kingstree.  Later mother told me that if I had turned LEFT instead of RIGHT at one juncture it would have taken us right back to 52 - and Kingstree.

But remember - I was depending on MapQuest!

Standing on the corner, watching all the trucks go by

"This Saturday is the Darlington 500", my cousin, Diane told me.

I remembered driving by the track in 1997 as my parents, Rich and I were on the way to New Jersey. Most of my family and friends know that Rich loved NASCAR. In fact on that same trip we went to a racetrack in the Poconos and he actually participated in a class for driving racecars.

I knew a little about NASCAR.

Diane continued.

"And they are having a festival in Florence as a part of the hoopla that goes along with the race. The cars are at the Florence Convention Center."

She went on to say that a group of her friends would be meeting at a Huddle House on the Florence/Darlington highway to watch the parade of trucks as they took the cars to the track

I assumed the drivers would be in that parade.

No - just the trucks.

At the appointed time (7:00 P.M.) the group we were sharing supper with, left our tables and walked out to the street. We held flags and waived them as more than 50 colorful trucks slowly rolled past us.

I kept thinking - we are standing here watching trucks.

Diane's grandchildren, Tripp and Madison joined us. Madison thought the noise was too loud but Tripp thoroughly enjoyed waiving his flag and pulling his arm bidding the truck drivers to blow their horns.

The parade of trucks ended and we finished our supper. We headed back to the farm in Darlington.

Diane's dad, Leon, was known for having some little special activity "up his sleeve" for us when we visited.  That same personality trait was so evident in Diane as she just couldn't resist offering us some more excitement. Would we like to follow the parade?

Sure.

So we got in line. And that's when it really got interesting.

Groups of people lined both sides of the highway. There seemed to be no age, gender, or race barrier. There were grills, tents, lawn chairs. They were tail-gaiting.

It was amazing. Who could count the people? I thought of the pictures I have seen of funeral trains slowly making their way through the country side - trains that carrying the bodies of presidents - these trucks were carrying cars.

One of my reactions was that this was really sad - these people had nothing else to do?

One of my reactions was curious - why in the world would people come to see a truck?

And then I thought it's really kind of cool that people want to come together for something rather than just sit in their homes and watch television. This was an example of community - so it's a good thing.

Some people would call those who came to watch the trucks, "red necks". In fact I started to name this blog - "You might be a red neck if...". But then I thought that's a disparaging term and I did some research to see what it means.

One source said the term red neck is used to described the uneducated and many times racist.

Well, I happen to know many very educated engineers who love NASCAR and who might enjoy watching the trucks that carry the cars - and many of the people I saw lining the highway that night were black. They would certainly be far from racist.

So I've decided not to categorized the people who enjoyed that interesting event.

Let's just chalk it up to a really fun evening.

Fun on the Farm

May 8 - following lunch with Dr. McQuilkin, author A Promise Kept, we were on our way to spend a couple of days on K-D Farm, where my father's sister, Gloria Capp, lives with her daughter, Diane - the D in the name of the 100 acres just outside of Darlington, South Carolina.

Diane and her husband, Scott Creveling share this lovely piece of property with another couple - wife's name is Karen and that's where the K comes from.

The Jacksonville family (my parents, siblings and our children) have enjoyed visiting the farm for more than 10 years now.  What a great place for respite.   

Respite?  Actually we had been there less than an hour when Diane announced that it was time for our walk - which consisted of 2 miles through the woods. That night she told me to be sure I checked really good for ticks.

For ticks?  I was in the country.

Which also proved true when Aunt Gloria served a delicious meal of roast beef, rice and gravy, fresh squash, corn on the cob and sliced tomato.
And at dinner we were joined by Scott's mother, Florence, who is always a delight.

Aunt Gloria has always been a favorite aunt (okay - I have five aunts and they are all my favorite in one way or another).  She was my father's only sister, they were very close and she always doted on me a bit.  No matter when I go there, she's always got a few clothes for me to see if I like or can wear.  Never seems to matter what size I am currently wearing; there is always something.  And she's a pretty snazzy dresser so I always come home anxious to wear what she's given me.

On Day five, we were treated to a delicious country cookin lunch at a restaurant between Florence and Hartsville.  Mr. B's was delightful.  Diane's sister, Debbie, her husband, Curry and their eldest daughter, Jennifer joined us. 

When Debbie, Diane and I are together, we really miss my sister Cindy so we have to laugh harder to make up for her absence.  We also enjoy trying to figure out who looks (or acts) the most like our grandma Lonnie.  I'm the shortest, so I've got that one there.  My ears are the smallest so I'm lost in that one.  All four of us absolutely adore being a grandmother which is certainly something grandma Lonnie was known for.

Later that day, Jamie (Debbie's second daughter) joined us for leftovers and more laughter.

Day six included a wonderful morning sitting on the dock - actually more like a deck that Scott built and watching the fish jump and a mother osprey guarding her nest high above the lake.

Later that day - another two mile walk...on the rail trail in Florence.

And that evening - well I'm saving that evening for another time - you know that Jeff Foxworthy monologue - "You might be a red neck if...".  Just wait.

Our time of respite on the farm, visiting and sharing, laughing and praying would soon come to an end - but not without an invitation from the South Carolina family to the Florida cousins --

"Y'all come back now...ya hear?"

A promise kept

"I am not sure if Dr. McQuilkin will remember me," I wrote to an address I found on the Columbia International University website, "however I think he will remember my family. My mother is Iva Nesmith Huffingham. We were members at Glendale Community Church in Jacksonville when the McQuilkin family were missionaries to Japan and several of my aunts - Thelma, Ann and Beth attended Columbia Bible College."

I went on to say that my mother is 89, that I would be taking her on a trip that would take us through Columbia and although it might be a long shot I wondered about the possibility of our visiting with Dr. McQuilkin - who had retired from the presidency of Columbia some years ago to care for his wife, Muriel after she had been diagnosed with Alzheimer's.

I also mentioned that not only did my mother really valued him in her younger years, she often refers to  Finishing Well as an excellent guide in the aging process.  (Note the prior sentence played a huge part in this story).

What a thrill to hear back  - from none other than Robertson McQuilkin.  He would be absolutely thrilled to see us.  In fact he said "I have always admired your mother."  Pretty cool, right?

We knew that Muriel had died and that some years ago, Dr. McQuilkin had remarried.  I hoped I could meet his second wife.  Although I was very excited about this, I decided to keep the anticipated visit a secret, and it was only the night before we were to be in Columbia that I told mother about the surprise.

Dr. McQuilkin met us in a Japanese garden that he has created in honor of Muriel with whom he had shared 12 years in missionary service, prior to his becoming the president of Columbia International University and then her illness.

He was eager to learn about my mother and her sisters, knew about our Aunt Thelma's death last Fall and told us about his children.  I remembered their prayer card that hung in my grandparents kitchen and my mother reminded me that it was Dr. McQuilkin who preached my grandma Nesmith's 1971 funeral.

I did get to meet Deb McQuilkin who has recently received her doctorate in nursing. I was disappointed that she could not join us for lunch, but I thoroughly enjoyed the time listening to my mother and Dr. McQuilkin chat. My mother reminded him that it was his father's preaching that was instrumental in her grandfather's conversion in 1946 or 47.

It was almost time for us to leave when I told him about an incident when mother's pastor had shared Dr. McQuilkin's story of commitment to his wife with the congregation at Mandarin Presbyterian Church and how a friend of hers pointed out a man in the MPC congregation who had done much the same thing.  That man is now one of my mother's dear friends.

I thought it was pretty neat that Dr. McQuilkin's story had been a part of my mother's life even today and I again said something about Finishing Well.  It was then that Dr. McQuilkin quietly told me about a letter he had received from a woman in California whose lived had been influenced by that little pink book A Promise Kept.

Two days later it dawned on me.  Dr. McQuilkin did not write Finishing Well.  Oh me.  What a faux pas.

But what a class act.  He never said "you have the wrong book".  He just found a way to tell me what he actually had written.  By the way, he's written countless other books and still takes occasional speaking engagements.

This day will certainly be one that both my mother and I remember.  If there is anything I have learned from my mother, it's to act on an idea when it comes to mind more than once.  I am so glad that I sent that email to Columbia International University and that the author of A Promise Kept took my mother and me to lunch.

Quite an experience!

Tomorrow "my cousins Debbie and Diane"

The Kitchen Band

Day One ends/Day Two begins

The afternoon ride took us to Augusta, Georgia where we visited my niece Leslie Williams Beck, her husband, Jason and their adorable little girls Taylor and Blakelie.  It was great to visit in their home and see where they work and play. 

After a good night's rest and some visiting time with Leslie, who is the daughter of my sister, Cindy, and her husband, Robert, we were on our way to Greenwood, South Carolina.

I was excited to drive across the Savannah River into North Augusta because as I mentioned on Day One, that little town holds special memories for me.  Leslie had told me to be sure to look over to my right as we crossed the river because that's where the Irish Travelers were making their home.  I wished I had time to investigate that (curious soul that I am) but have since done a little googling and found this an interesting group of people whom some would refer to as gypsies. 

No time for that...Must move on.

Our next stop was Wesley Commons in Greenwood, South Carolina.  That would be the home of Barbara Darrow, mother of the man I thought was the pastor of the church we visited on May 6.

"Aunt" Barbara has been our mother's dear friend since the mid fifties when our daddy became a Gideon.  The Gideons are the men who placed Bibles in hotels, motels, schools, hospitals, prisons...and my parents loved that ministry.  Mother was a member of the Auxiliary and in fact became an international officer and traveled all over the United States and to Canada as a speaker when a Gideon state convention was held.  Each year for about 10 years, we went to the international convention as our vacation and my sister, Cindy and I got to experience many fun and interesting adventures.

We met "Uncle" Dwayne and "Aunt" Barbara in about 1956 and spent many happy times with them.  "Uncle" Dwayne passed away some time ago and this was actually the second time that my mother visited "Aunt" Barbara at Wesley Commons.

That afternoon, I visited with Kathy Darrow Constant, sister of Rick who we had seen the day before while our mothers chatted.  That evening after supper, my mother and I joined Aunt Barbara when she went to her "Kitchen Band" Practice.

What a hoot.  Here were about 20 people who are residents at Wesley Common who get together to sing and play various instruments that are normally used in a kitchen.  Aunt Barbara had a cast iron skillet and a spoon, but there were various other pieces - a grater, spoons, a washboard, even a hand held beater.  We were there for a dress rehearsal for their next performance.  Their program consists of a trip around the world - including a jolly "Happy Wanderer" and "Waltzing Matilda"; Chopsticks", "Edleweiss" and "The Mexican Hat Dance" for starters.  It was such fun.  At the end of the evening when one of the gentleman ( a very young looking 78 year old fellow with a  beautiful voice) told the group that they had DVD's of a prior performance for sale for $5, I decided that was too good a deal to miss.

When I am "old", I thought as we walked back to Aunt Barbara's spacious apartment, I think I will come to Wesley Commons.  My children would like that:)

The second day of our trip came to an end.  Time to rest up.  Just before bedtime I shared a surprise with my mother.  Tomorrow we were going to have lunch with our family friend, Robertson McQuilkin in Columbia.  I thought she was going to float right out of the room.

Tomorrow was going to be good - It would be all about "A Promise Kept".

My childhood friend is your pastor

May 6, 2012

Departure time - 7:00 AM; Destination - a church in Savannah, Georgia; estimated time of arrival 10:30 AM which allowed for a breakfast stop in Brunswick.

The Cracker Barrel server was a nice Southern gal who cheerfully offered coffee as she took our order.

We of course had on our "Sunday clothes", so I was not surprised when I heard these words -

"You all on the way to church?"

When I responded yes, she said "would you pray for me?"

My mind went back to an experience I shared recently when I visited Renee and Wally.  As the server at a Carraba's was about to take our order, Renee said,

"In a few minutes we are going to ask the blessing and I was wondering - would you like for us to pray for you?"

The server that night was taken aback, but this server had no qualms answering me when I said "anything special you'd like us to pray about" and she told us that there is a Carraba's coming to Brunswick and she really needs a second job.

Good breakfast!

We arrived in Savannah well ahead of the appointed time and as we walked into the restroom, a lovely lady introduced herself to us and I told her that the pastor of the church was a childhood friend.

I didn't say Pastor Rick, even though my friend, the Reverend Rick Darrow and his wife, Patricia, were expecting us.  I hadn't seen him, however, since we were 13 and 15 years old.  I knew I was looking for a medium framed man whose red hair was now doused with silver.  Actually his sister, Kathy, had described him as "the same except for a few wrinkles".

As we walked into the sanctuary, a tall man with silver hair and a moustache approached us and said "Hello, I'm Pastor Bob".

Pastor Bob?

Oh me.  Were we in the wrong church?

"I'm a friend of Rick Darrow", I timidly said.

"He's teaching Sunday School," was Pastor Bob's response.

We chatted and in time a lovely woman approached us. 

"Are you Paula?"

The woman was Patricia Darrow.  We had never met.  After some explanation we learned that Rick had been the pastor at one time but that he is now an elder in the church.

When the service was over, Pastor Bob told me that the lady we had seen in the restroom had come "running" to him to tell him his childhood friend, Paula, was here and he had been perplexed trying to figure out who in the world had come to visit.

Moral of the story?  I don't think there is a moral.  I do think it was great to see my friend.  As we traveled on our way I had a question for my mother.

"Wonder why I didn't grow up and marry Rick Darrow?"  I remembered how kind and. protective he had always been when our families visited, going to the North Augusta A&W with "Ricky" and  Kathy and the fun we always shared.  And I remembered that once Rick had accidentally come into the room where I was dressing and I was "mortified".  To Rick it was probably not that big a deal, him having a sister and everything.  To me, however, I had no brothers and I felt so embarrassed.

Funny, how that innoucous experience has remained a part of my memory bank - something that still makes me blush a little.

As we drove across the state of Georgia and began to see signs - "Georgia Southern University",  I remembered how much my son, Tray, wanted to go to college there and I imagined him saying to me -
"Wonder what my life would be like if I had been able go to Georgia Southern?"

And my answer would be the same that my mother's was to me when I asked about marrying Rick Darrow

Oh my - just look what you would have missed!

(Note to Rick - this does not mean that I do not think you would have been a "good catch")

Next stop - Augusta

Were the shadows worth it?

My mother and I just returned from a seven day, 1,135 miles trip through Georgia and South Carolina.

The idea came about when mother and I were returning from a 24-four hour "turn around" to Tampa where we visited my daughter, Renee, and her family (husband, Wally and two girls, Abbie and Allie).

"Now don't be putting this on Facebook," I told her, "but I was thinking we might take a trip to see our South Carolina family and friends".

My participation in the Duval County Medical Society project was almost done.  I was going to spend the month of May thinking, praying, asking questions, writing -  hoping to determine what at might be going to unfold for the next phase of my life.  My mother had weathered the Tampa trip well.  So I put out a few feelers to see what our potential hosts would think of our coming to see them.

The response was positive and I began to plan the trip - an adventure that is  now history.

May 6  - Our first stop was Savannah when we worshipped with one of my special childhood friends, Rick Darrow and his lovely wife, Patricia. 

May 12 - Our last stop was Savannah where we spent the night at a Best Western and my mother got to go to The Lady and Her Sons. 

With Savannah as the books ends - I have many stories to tell.

Lots of sunshine with just a few shadows.

My plan was to blog about this trip every day, but the conversation was just too good to miss, besides one of my best assets is my "rememberer".  I knew I could recount almost every chat and experience when I got home.  So I left my laptop zippered in its canvas cover.

What a compliment when I arrived at my cousin, Ken's to hear  - "I thought you were going to blog every day".  Well I was, but you know what they say "the best laid plans...".

And still "the best laid plans...".

We have been home for three days - 72 hours that have been filled with washing, ironing, trying on some of the fabulous hand me downs I got from my aunt and cousin and putting everything away when right in the middle of those little interruptions.

A HUGE interruption.

Tuesday, May 15 - Lunch time - and suddenly - the lightening flashed and the thunder clapped.  It was a millisecond I'm sure.  When I returned to the computer, no Internet connection.  The next 24 hours included my scouring over the AT&T U-verse manual and several telephone conversations with my AT&T U-verse-brilliant brother in law - no solution.

Talk about a SHADOW.

But a nice man named Terry came and now the SUN SHINES (at least in my heart) as I am finally getting down to business to share some of our adventures.  Starting tomorrow (May 17) we'll take a trip through time (first installment acutally happened on May 6) and I'll share some stories.  You can decide for yourself -

Was our 1,135 mile trip - filled with sunshine or were there shadows? And were the shadows worth it?

This is really how life is - don't you think

This image tells me that perhaps I should have named this blog SHADOWS and SUNSHINE rather than Sunshine and Shadows.  Sometime this is exactly how life "feels" don't you think.  Fortunately the man is walking from the clouds and rains to the sunlight.  And I think most of us experience that.  Nothing ever stays as bad as we think it is.

A few weeks ago I purchased an inexpensive digital camera - especially to use on a trip I have planned for mother and me and for the garden that I have worked on this Spring (a different experience for me).

Bad choice.  Nothing but trouble.  Going back to the manufacturer.

But wait - how will I take photos on this trip?  We are going to see friends from the past and many family members.  I need to record the trip, in words but pictures are so much better.

Made me a little grumpy I admit.

Fortunately digitals have not totally wiped out Kodak and  today I purchased two 27 exposure throw aways for $10.

As a part of the trip-connected errands I have seen some excellent examples of sunshine.  When I took a special earring (my mother's) to be repaired, it cost me $1.  Pretty cool, I thought.  As the shop's owner walked me out, she showed me a nice sign that some friends of the shop had surprised her with.  It's a beads shop on St. Augustine Road and the letters B E A D S direct potential customers to her shop.  She was a little taken aback with their generosity.

My response - God blesses those who are a blessing.    We could have paid more than a dollar to have that earring fixed but it was a nice blessing not to have to. Besides I was able to apply the money I thought I was going to use to repair the jewelry to the cost of the throw away cameras.

That's a shadow that turned to sunshine!

Watch this blog for reports of our trip.  I think it's going to make for an interesting read!