I think I can, I think I can

You remember him don't you...the little blue engine huffing and puffing as he pulled the train up that hill.


The Little Engine That Could has been a favorite of mine since I was a little girl.  I loved it and I loved reading it to my children.


Who knew that I would think of that book so many years later.


After eight years of sharing my home, it was now going to be "just me" and I started dreaming about what changes I might like to see.


And so I called my friend, Konnie, who is an interior decorator.  The name of her company fit my dreams perfectly - Upscale by Konnie. 


Some people are downsizing.  I wanted to upscale.


And so we began the process of making some changes.


One change requires painting three rooms and two bathrooms.  At first I was going to hire a painter...and then I thought ...I've painted before...I can do this.


I thought that until it was time to paint.


The pre-painting activities went very well.  First trip to the paint department - check; wall accessories down, furniture moved away from the walls or out of the room, spackling done, taping, sanding; drop cloths on the floor - check them all off the list.


It was time to start.


You won't believe all the things I found to do before I actually opened that can of paint and poured it into the tray.


I've painted before. I can do this. And then it hit me.  When I've done this before -- on my own I mean - that sweet man I called daddy was here to help.  He loved to paint.


And - despite his frail body - he always found a way to help me.  I'll never forget when I was painting a bathroom that he climbed up on the toilet seat to reach the top of the wall because it was hard for me to maneuver the ladder.  I remember standing there, holding my breath and his legs...but he was so determined.


So determined.


Two hours into this part of the project, I stood back and looked at a wall.  The pale green was now more of a smokey blue green - looks like the ocean - that's what I wanted...That was three days ago.


I've taken my time, painted one wall at a time and today it's ready for Konnie to come and start doing what she does best -


Because - like my daddy, I was so determined and like that little engine who could - I found out that I can!

Did Daddy tell you?

I've been searching for some lamps for the soon to be newly decorated master suite in my home.

As I walk through store after store (from Dillards to the Hospice Thrift Store) I find that no pair of lamps want to jump off the shelf and into my arms.  You might say I'm being just a tad particular about this.

However, as often is the case, my shopping trips also take me down memory lane.

Like the time my mother took me into an antique store and remembers that the proprietor was so nervous that I was going to pick something up and alas - break it.

I've been in many antique stores and I have never broken anything.


Okay I've never broken anything in an antique store...

I was six and my sister Cindy was two when we lived in a small apartment behind my grandparents home.  If my memory serves me correctly, the house my parents had owned in Bridgewater had sold faster than they ever dreamed and we lived in the apartment while they were determining our next move.

At any rate, mother was gone to church one Sunday night and daddy kept us at home.  No doubt he made us a chocolate milkshake and the three of us had a grand time.  At some point, Cindy and I decided it would be great fun to play a little game of chase - up and over a chair in the living room.

Cindy found this cartoon and we thought it fit

A lamp on a table was next to the chair and on one of our up and overs -

You guessed it ... one of us (and I really think it was Cindy) hit the table and the lamp came crashing to the floor.  I am not sure but I think that lamp might have come from that antique store my mother had taken me to.

Daddy cleaned up the mess and put Cindy and me to bed.


I was still snubbing when my mother took me to the bathroom at some point in the night.


"Did daddy tell you what Cindy did?"


"Daddy told me what you and Cindy did," my mother said.


But see I always thought she did it - she's the one the hit the table.


That's kind of the way life is, don't you think?  It's always easier to blame someone else - rather than accept responsibility for our own actions - or at least a part of the responsibility.


Cindy and I have always remembered that night and the many Sunday nights that daddy stayed home with us while mother went to church.  We were not punished for our carelessness - but to this day I am always a little nervous when I walk through the section of a store that sells lamps. . .


See - I'm still blaming it on something (not just someone) else/

Bah Cupid

I have been wrestling with this thought all day long.


If you have known me for more than five minutes, you know that I am a romantic.


However, if you have known me for more than 10 minutes, you know that I am also a realist.


Somewhere down the road I finally learned that life is not just about hearts, flowers, candy and other special gifts that are symbolically given on the 14th day of February. . .even though my house is decorated with hearts, flowers and some of the special gifts that I have received on this day - and kept for the sake of sentimentality.


I have learned that while loving someone (and being loved) is wonderful, it is of extreme importance that we love ourselves - because we really cannot love others until we love ourselves.  We pray a prayer of contrition and ask for mercy -- we have not loved others as we love ourselves -- so we better get the loving ourselves taken care of or we aren't going to do a very good job or loving someone else.


And yet this is contradicting to what I have been taught and what I believe.  Jesus first, others second, you last...that's how one has JOY.


How do I reconcile this?


It's a constant struggle.


Except as I just read in one of my encouragement books that I read every day - Simple Abundance A Daybook of Comfort and Joy by Sarah Ban Breathneck - "Love yourself first and everything else will fall into place" or as comedienne Lucille Ball said "You really have to love yourself to get anything done is this world".


And besides that -  even Jesus took time for himself - we read more than once that he went aside...


I think that's where I am on this Valentine's Day 2014. 


 
 

Part of the reason...is the 'raisin'

I have a friend,  the mother of two darling little girls, who is in the throes of disappointment as her marriage is ending.


I'm fairly familiar with that situation.


Nah.  I am very familiar with that situation.


I've watched her as she bravely moves through her life, the care of her children and her vocation with a sense of dedication and the realization that everything is going to be all right.


When I am met with this scenario I can't help but go back to my own life, at a time that I felt so lost and alone and unsure about the future.


And as I look back over the more than 30 years now, I can see God's hand again and again in my life and in the lives of my children.


So it's easy for me to tell my friend - it really is going to be all right.


But wait, what was it that helped me the most?


For me, it was the fact that I had been taught, as long as I could remember, to trust God with all things.  I have often recounted more than one time in my life that I prayed feeling like my prayers were bouncing off the ceiling only to rely on the "faith that had been instilled in me as a child" and to just keep trusting.


Which brings me back to my friend.


Her mother, whom I have met only once, sent me a nice note to tell me that she enjoys my blog.  I was happy to have an opportunity to respond to my new friend (I know I make friends so easily) and tell her how proud I am of her daughter. 


And then I told her - part of the reason is in the 'raisin'.  There is little doubt in my mind but that from a child my friend has known that God has a plan...and she is trusting in the Lord with all her heart (Proverbs 3:5).  And as we all know - you can't get a peach from a persimmon tree.


Something else that helped me was remembering an experience I had in college with my children's dad.  One day I was in a snit over something and he suggested that we should go to church that evening.  As I sat in the congregation a sense of calm came over me and I heard "Be still and know that I am God...".   I also knew that verse from my youth. 


I suppose that if there is anything I would like to hear about my children is that part of the reason that they are where they are today - is because -- you guessed it "of their raisin'."

Coffee time

It's one of my fondest memories of my growing up years.   

     My parents were major tee-totalers (meaning they didn't care if it was 5 o'clock ANYWHERE).   Daddy was known to enjoy a beer every now and then and mother will often say that she would like a thimble full of wine (which it's been a rare person who knew what in the world she was talking about).

      So obviously, the cocktail hour meant nothing to them. 

     The time of the day did however.  For them it was coffee time.  And every day (in the cold of the winter and the heat of the summer) at around 4:00, they shared a cup of coffee.  This was similar to the coffee they shared the first thing every morning. 

     The operative here is probably that they shared.  And for me - I have found that coffee sometimes brings back warm memories...of my parents (and their coffee time - a time that I often participated in) and of my freshman and sophomore year of college when Ray Parker and I often went to a little café called Mansfield's in Dayton, Tennessee before we went to church on Sunday morning.

     That restaurant had the very best coffee I've ever had. Until last Wednesday when after some routine blood work that required fasting, I went to Famous Amos for breakfast and had coffee that tasted almost most the same.

     At a Caring for the Caregiver Workshop this past weekend I heard one of the speakers say that it's good that the senses bring us to a memory. 

     It wasn't just the sense of smell that did it for me last week.  It was the sense of hearing. I heard a name - "Doug Dickey"

     Doug Dickey was a graduate of the University of Florida who went on to become the coach at Tennessee then at Florida and then became the AD at Tennessee. 

     And my daddy always liked him.

     So when I heard Doug Dickey (I know he lives in this area and actually is a member at Mandarin United Methodist Church - years ago my parents and I went to hear him speak), I thought... 

     Oh wow - I need to tell daddy.  And I promise you I thought that more than once over the next couple of days,

     Some other little irritants popped into my life on Tuesday and Wednesday - and finally in choir when we were singing Fairest Lord Jesus, I started to weep... 

     I finally realized I was weeping because I miss my daddy. 

     One thing is certain about my personality.  It most always takes a long time for me to really get out the emotions that I have inside of me.  Why did it take four and a half years - who knows?  Other than the fact that I've been rather preoccupied with the care of our mother and if I got "upset" that would make her upset - so I just buried my sadness. 

     To be honest, I continue to be a bit sad.  My friend, the Reverend Ronnie Willerer would say that I am unpacking my emotions - kind of like the idea of peeling back the layers of an onion - which brings me to smell - and tears - oh well you know what my grandma Lonnie used to say about tears....