Three score and 10

It used to be that people would live to be "three score and 10".  That's 70.

Rich Suhey was 21 years shy of that when he died.

Some of the things that Rich and I "acquired" during our life together mean so much to me. I especially loved the wind chimes we purchased on our trip to Myrtle Beach the summer before he passed.  I will always remember how long it took Rich to decide which ones to buy.  He was such a perfectionist.

I'm not that careful.  I brought the wind chimes to this house, but I left them on the deck.  They got wet.  When my brother hung them, they dropped to the floor and broke. I left the broken pieces on the deck.  I didn't realize that someone found them and ....

I wrote this 20 years ago this morning.

Daddy,

  

It is early morning.  The sky is gray.  No TU is yet on the driveway. I have enjoyed my first cup of coffee and am at my desk.  Today would have been Rich's 50th birthday. We had thought we might go to Hawaii to celebrate it.  Well, as we all know only too well - no Rich, no Hawaii, and no celebration - except...

I know there are many reasons to be grateful.  The wind chimes reminded me of that.

   

When they broke, I compared them to my heart, which had been broken into jillion pieces. I know that I could either have the wood replaced - and rehang them or I would buy some new ones, but that I would have wind chimes hanging outside my bedroom window - someday.  And I said that the music they would make might be different but they would bring me joy.

And this week, those wind chimes suddenly appeared - hanging - by my bedroom window.

So that last night as the wind began to blow - ever so gently, I began to hear - the music of those wind chimes. And I was aware that time had passed and it had become - the fiftieth anniversary of Richard Peter Suhey's birth.

It seemed, to me, appropriate - that the first time I heard those chimes was on this day.  I am so glad Rich was born and I am so glad I had the opportunity to know him, to love him and to be loved by him.  Our life together was short, but it was good. 

Just as the wind is making those chimes sing, the circumstances of my life today, are giving me reason to sing.  And we do have reason to celebrate.  We can celebrate his life and the way his life - changed mine.

So this note is to thank you for repairing and hanging my wind chimes.  Just as you have always said, "Everything's gonna be all right" Thank you for what you've done in my life to help that become a reality.

I love you, daddy.

Now here it is 20 years later.  The wind chimes are still hanging.  There's not much wind this morning but I really think I heard them ring a few minutes ago.  Just a simple reminder of the thanksgiving I have in my heart for a daddy like Earl Huffingham and a sweetheart whose name was Rich.

May your life be filled with enough Sunshine 

to make you appreciate the Shadows

Turkey 'toup, spinach and a park somewhere off I95 in South Georgia

Everybody has one.

A best Thanksgiving memory.

You don't.  Let me share some of mine.

The Huffingham family was visiting good friends in South Carolina.  After a delicious dinner, daddy was resting in the room we were sharing.  Cindy and I were teenagers and the boys were probably 5 and 3.

In typical Earl Huffingham fashion, these words came out of his mouth.  "I sure hope she (our hostess) isn't making turkey soup".  Our daddy was a finicky eater.

When we made our way to the dinner table, you guessed it, it was set with soup bowls and sure enough...there it was.

It was Lester's turn to ask the blessing and his words are forever etched in my mind - "Thank you for the turkey toup",

Many years later, two days before Thanksgiving, the one that I was going to be bringing my family to Jacksonville for a Huffingham Thanksgiving, Tray was burned badly on the Monday before we would be traveling.

When I called home to say we would not be coming, there was no hesitation on mother and daddy's part.  They simply loaded up three cars with family, a turkey and all the trimmings and came to us.  Mother and Cindy prepared a delicious Thanksgiving dinner and Raymond and Margaret Parker (the other grandparents) stayed with Tray who was hospitalized so that I could be with my family.

In 1986, Margaret Parker was very ill and we know her time on earth was short.  So my parents, my children and I loaded up in the RV that belonged to Robert and Cindy and drove to Winston-Salem to say goodbye.  It was Thanksgiving Day.  My mother, in typical Iva fashion, had purchased a small turkey breast and we stopped at a park off  I95 and enjoyed a nice lunch.  She had even brought along a table cloth and some candles.

Rich Suhey passed away just before Thanksgiving in 1998.  We had planned to be in San Francisco so no one had included me in their Thanksgiving plans.  Not to worry - Wally, Renee, Tray and I just went to Cracker Barrel.

And about the spinach.

One of Ray Parker's traditional Thanksgiving sermons is called "thank you for the spinach".  In the sermon he describes so many of the things he liked to eat - fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy and chocolate cake.  He also said that in the middle of the table was something he didn't like - spinach.

However - his mother always made him eat what was good for him before he could enjoy what he really loved.

That's how life is -  Difficult times, distasteful though they may be, are a part of it. That's one thing our parents taught us -- As our mother would say - I Thessalonians 5:18 wasn't put in the scripture by accident.

Take some time this Thanksgiving - see if you can't remember some of those special days of food, family and friends.

And be thankful!

May your life be filled with enough Sunshine 

to make you appreciate the Shadows

My personal cornucopia

I loved the holidays when I was growing up

We didn't need a horse-drawn sleigh to get to our grandmother's house.

We didn't cross a river or go through any woods.

And yet - it was a special time.

One of my fondest memories is of the cornucopia that was always a part of Grandma Nesmith's Fall decorations.  I'm not sure what happened to that piece of pottery but the picture of it has remained in my mind.

So much that I always have a cornucopia somewhere in my home each November.

A cornucopia is also called a horn of plenty and it is used as a symbol of abundance.

In my mind, I like it to represent my life.

From the family I was born into, to the family that Ray Parker and I were privileged to parent and the families that those three children have created -- I am truly blessed.

Rebecca Lynn - 11/26/71

Paula Renee - 11/17/74

I am writing this on November 16.  On this day in 1974 our first child, Rebecca (who would turn three on November 26 of that year) and I enjoyed her last day as an only child.  We read, had her three-year-old picture taken at Olan Mills and made Rice Krispie treats.

Later that night I was headed to Erlanger Hospital in Chattanooga, Tennessee where her little sister, Renee was born.

To say that both of these girls have been a blessing in my life seems way too simple.  The song "I've been waiting for you" from Mama Mia 2 describes the way I felt when Becca was born.  I had no idea how much I wanted a little girl until I held her in my arms that first day.

And if I thought having one little girl was a blessing - having two has been huge!

Through the years, both of my daughters have continued to bring me such joy.  They have become strong women who love God, their husbands and their children.

They are independent and they allow me to be independent as well.  But you let something happen in my life, they are all over it.

Within hours on what can easily be the most difficult day of my life, November 17, 1998, the day I learned that Rich Suhey had "not survived"cardiac arrest, my daughters and their brother were at my side. For 21 years they have continued "to let me be" when they didn't see a need and to be right where they should when there's an issue that requires their assistance and encouragement.

Do I really like all of the fruits and vegetables that go into a horn of plenty?  And neither do I like the sad things that I have happened in my life.  However, I know that all of the ups and downs, good tasting fruit and nasty vegetables combine into my own personal horn of plenty.

I really am blessed abundantly!  And I thank God for my family and friends who have made that a reality.

May your life be filled with enough Sunshine 

to make you appreciate the Shadows

Thank you for your service

Veteran's Day, 2019. 

We'll probably have to remind our mother that today is Veteran's Day -- That would be important to our daddy.  I could have also named this - Our life with a Veteran!

My sister, Cindy nor I knew much about daddy's time in the Philippines.  We knew we never ate lamb or fruit cocktail because those things were served on the ship as he rocked across the Pacific in 1942.  That was the extent of what he remembered about the War.

Our parents endured almost four years of the first five of their marriage half a world apart.

In my mother's things, I have found photos and letters that they sent to each other when daddy was in the Philippines.  They had married a few months after daddy enlisted, something he did just weeks after the Japanese had bomb Pearl Harbor.  In December 1941, daddy gave mother an engagement ring,  He knew he was going to enlist and he knew she would wait for him.

He missed her high school graduation, but that was okay.  She had made a beautiful white dress that she knew would also serve as her wedding dress.  In mid-July, he called her from Shreveport, Louisiana where he was stationed.  He had made Sergeant.  There was enough money for them to be married.

Glendale Community Church canceled prayer meeting for their wedding on August 5, 1942.

They had seven weeks in Shreveport before he learned he was shipping out and she boarded a train to come home to Jacksonville.  They often told us about that time of wedded bliss.

Then 43 months later, he came home.  Somewhere there is a photo of them in the front yard of the Nesmith family home "kissing".  Her words in her scrapbook were: "Oh happy day, he's home to stay".  They were ALWAYS kissing.

74 years ago next month, daddy's service to Uncle Sam came to an end.  They were able to build a house and he took some college courses on the GI Bill.  Daddy never bragged about the help he got.  I think sometimes he was almost embarrassed.  He thought his service to our country was an honor.

Cindy and I never heard the stories.  Our brothers, Jonathan and Lester, heard some of them, but you let him have grandsons....all six of them have heard lots of stories.  I guess it was okay to talk about things like that with boys.  Three of them, Chad, Brad and Tray followed in his footsteps and are Veterans.

One of our family's greatest joys was when daddy reunited with some members of his squadron and they began to have reunions.  What a fun weekend in the early 90's when that group came to Jacksonville.  We had a blast

When Rich Suhey died in 1998, daddy insisted that his coffin be covered in an American Flag and my son, Tray, in his National Guard dress uniform handed me that folded flag following the service at the cemetery.

"We are thankful for his service".

I think that's the first time I heard those words.  It certainly wasn't the last.

One thing daddy always did when he saw any member of the armed forces was to thank them for their service.

Our mother carried on that habit.  We were sharing breakfast in a restaurant when she got up from the table.  She was already on a walker and I'll never forget her slowly making her way toward some soldiers who were sitting at a nearby table.  I listened as she said, "I just wanted to say thank you for your service."

Daddy had been gone a few months when we learned about a program for the Surviving Spouse of a Veteran.  Although it took a while, each month there's a deposit into mother's bank account from a program called Aid and Attendance. Sometimes I wonder how daddy would feel about this.

I'm pretty sure that since this is to help his honey, he'd be grateful.

As for my siblings and me.    Each month as I use these funds for our mother's care, I always think.

"Hey daddy, Thank you for your service!"

May your life be filled with enough Sunshine 

to make you appreciate the Shadows

In all kinds of weather. . .

"It was daddy's favorite day," my brother, Lester, noted.  He was talking about FL/GA.

I had asked my mother what her favorite FL/GA experience was and she said the year Lester brought his friends home for the game.

Our parents' home was always one that was very welcoming to our friends.  Lester's college experience is a wonderful example of that.  And both mother and daddy thoroughly enjoyed that time in their lives.  They loved going to games and seeing Lester and his friends and were very pleased when he brought them home.

We are not sure where they put all those friends that year.

Kind of like we are not sure where daddy always found enough money to take care of all of us. But he did.  You know that old saying about robbing Peter to pay Paul.  Earl Huffingham was the master at that.

And Iva Huffingham was a master at serving.


This photo was taken in 1980.  That was the year of the famous Buck Belue to Lindsay Scott pass and run that won the game for Georgia. It is obvious that it's a "before the game" shot.  They did all come back to our home for spaghetti that was prepared by daddy's friend, Mr. Nick.

Sometimes people ask us why we are such ardent Florida fans.  From the first game our daddy went to at what was then called Florida Field, he became a Gator.  I think I was maybe two years old and I know no time in my life when the Gators were not important to daddy.  He loved the sport, but he loved the tradition.

In the summer, he counted the days until "We are the Boys".

Which brings me to why it's important - "In all kinds of weather, we all stick together".

That would be one of the mantra's that covers our family.  Four children, three "in-laws", 11 grandchildren (8 are married), Five step-grandchildren (two are married) and 17 greats plus 2 step greats.  That's more than 50 individuals.

And all of us would say that we so highly value the love of the Gators that Earl instilled in us (even the ones who grew up to be Seminoles).

But of course, it's more than a college team that we appreciate.  What we appreciate is the passion that they had - for God and each other.  And the way they taught us to share that.

So this year's FL/GA didn't turn out the way we wanted.

The other thing our daddy taught us -- Wait until next year!

He was a very patient man.

I love to tell a story

During the Fall, most churches have pledge drives so they can set their next year's budget.  The theme for our church this year was based on an old hymn, " I love to tell the story."

If you have spent at least 10 minutes with me, you know it.

I love to tell a story!.

I'm a writer, right?

I have so many stories in my head and heart right now that I have difficulty deciding which to tell.

That's because it's Autumn and who doesn't have a lot of Holiday related stories? I have Halloween,  Thanksgiving, and Christmas stories.  I have Florida/Georgia weekend and those special days in both November and December when we celebrate the birth of some of my dearest family members and friends.

Which is my way of announcing a series of blogs "I love to tell A story"

October 31, 1997.

Rich Suhey had wanted a boat for a long time.  His mother passed in June of 1997 and with the sale of her house in New Jersey, Rich and his brother each received a small amount of money.   

He got serious about finding a boat. 

He scanned adds, we went to boat shows, and then one day he found what he was looking for.

And so it was that on Friday, October 31, 1997 we made our way to the Julington Creek Boat Sales and picked up the Manatee.

He was so excited.  Like a little boy.

Only thing was that he knew ALL THINGS ABOUT CARS and very little about boats.  And of course, you know that his first mate was much less knowledgeable than he was.

We made our way - under the Julington Creek bridge into the St Johns, under the Buckman and when we got the Fuller Warren, Rich said he thought we would stop and get gas.

That was an interesting time.  By now it was Happy Hour at River City Brewing and I was just sure everyone there was watching to see what we were doing.  

Rich never gave that one thought.  He clearly assumed that he was the Captain of his ship and in control

We had left Julington Creek at around 2:30; by now it was close to 6; darkness was setting in. And  I wasn't comfortable about docking the boat in Colonial Point where we both had condominiums.

There were no slips.

So we pulled up next to a boat we had seen docked there for weeks (never being moved).  Rich lowered the anchor and tied his boat to that one.

Oh, and did I mention that by now it was raining?

Eventually Rich would learn more about the boat, including the fact that he would have to get permission to dock it in a different place.  Our first time out, the boat's motor snagged a crab trap and that meant having it towed.  

I did learn to pilot it (who knew I could do that?) and, of course, my favorite day on the boat was on March 13 of the next year when I became Paula Huffingham Suhey.  And after he passed later than year, I sold the boat and shared the proceeds with our five children.

So the Manatee is just a memory.  And my story is not so much about the story of God's love and grace as the song our church's pledge campaign was based.

And yet - that time in my life was a gift from God.  Rich Suhey taught me so much about who I could be - and who I am in Christ.

And that's another story that I love to tell!

The best part

I love Downton Abbey.

I know.  I'm not alone!

Early on Sunday of this week, I set my table for a gathering of fellow Dowtonians. We were going to enjoy the Downton Abbey movie and then coming to my home for "high tea".  The table held some of the pieces that I had inherited because my mother lived with me - and she brought them having inherited them from her mother.

And from somewhere came a voice.

"You are just like Grandma Nesmith".

I remembered my maternal grandmother's love for entertaining and the many opportunities I had enjoyed helping her with a dinner party.

I loved it!

Later in the day as I enjoyed the movie, I so appreciated the conversation between the Countess Dowager and her granddaughter, Lady Mary.

"You have the best part of me".

My mind went quickly back to the morning experience.

Grandma was more than a good hostess.  She was a great cook (especially yeast rolls), was very caring for others (took in elderly persons and helped them so much in their dying days) and I believe was a very supportive wife to our granddaddy (although she never imagined he would become a minister almost 25 years into their marriage).

However, I did get her love of entertaining.

My paternal grandmother was a quick-witted little lady.  She had the uncanny ability to make each of her 8 grandchildren believe they were her favorite.  And she loved shoes!

And now I am wondering. Which part of me do my grandchildren have?

It could be my love of shoes, my appreciation for words, or yes - my love of the Florida Gators.  It could be my love for Scripture or music, and yes - for entertaining.

But what I'd want them to have - something I appreciate about me - is passion.  If I believe it - you know it!

That's also what Mary's granny believed to be her best part.

I think I'm in good company!

Daddy's last gift - almost

When I remember my words, I shudder.

So selfish was I!

My parents and I were enjoying dinner and somehow the conversation turned to what we knew was daddy's death.  In January 2009, daddy realized his days were numbered and he began making preparations.  He gave Lester the checkbook, added my name to the title of his 2003 Saturn, and in late August he made the decision to no longer be given blood transfusions.

He knew that meant his days on earth were soon over.

Back to the conversation, I think in May or June.

"I don't want to be here when you die".

I still can't believe I actually said that.  My reasoning is that I would be trying to console mother, get my siblings on the phone all the while surely sobbing my heart out.

And so it was that on the morning of September 16, 2009, my daddy  asked me - not once, but three times, "are you not going to work today?"  Later I learned that he had also asked my mother if there was anything left for them to talk about.

I did go to work.  Just after lunch my son, Tray, called me.  By this time, Tray had been coming three times a day to help care for his granddaddy.

"Mom, you need to come home. Granddaddy is not doing so hot".

Within the hour our Jacksonville family and two ministers and a Hospice nurse had gathered by his bedside.

In the late afternoon, daddy died.

In fact, I'm the one who whispered to the Hospice nurse - I think he's gone.

So what happened to the not wanting to be there when he died.  Our Hospice team had helped me understand what was going to happen.  I felt more prepared.

I never told daddy.

Which is why he wanted to know about my plans for that day.  He was making a valiant effort to give his firstborn child a gift.  He wanted to honor my request.

So although he tried, he wasn't able to give that final gift to me. At least not the one he thought he was giving.

But a wonderful gift - I will always be grateful to be in the room when my daddy went to Heaven!

It's like my mother always says  "Romans 8:28 is still in the Book".

May your life be filled with enough Sunshine 

to make you appreciate the Shadows

 

Iva Lou - Grandma Moses???

     When we were growing up, we knew our mother enjoyed art.  She often told us about her days at Landon High School when her teacher was Memphis Wood,  who would later be known as Jacksonville's "First Lady of Art".  She was thrilled when she learned that there is a special garden at the Mandarin Presbyterian Church that honors Ms. Wood and when I started to work at the Mandarin Museum, she enjoyed the Memphis Wood art she saw there.

     When our children were growing up she took some classes in oils.  We thought she did a pretty good job and all these years later, I love to go into a friend or family member's home and see one of the pieces that she did.

     After daddy passed, she saw a notice in her church bulletin about some art classes  That's when she began to draw.


 

    When it was time for her to move to an Assisted Living Facility, she asked for a coloring book.  One year she gave each of her children one of the books she completed  Now we have a reminder of the peace that she felt when she was coloring as well as the joy she felt when she gave something she had drawn or colored as a gift.
   This card hangs on my refrigerator.  It's a thank you for something I had done. (That would be another thing my mother is famous for).

      A few days ago, my brother in law, Robert Williams, suggested that we take her colored pencils and a couple of coloring books to the Activities Room at Westminster Woods on Julington Creek.  At first, that didn't seem to phase her.  I sat with her and colored a bird.  I wanted her to color a flower.  No response.

Our family loves this photo!

     AND then one day, I put a colored pencil in her hand and she started to color.  She completed a leaf.  I realized that she had asked me a question - "do you want me to color that?"

     We don't know if she'll ever want to color again but it is a great reminder to us of something she loved.

     We also never know who we'll find when we visit her.  This is so very difficult.  But again the faith that she and daddy instilled in us as children is the foundation that keeps us trusting.

     We don't know what the future holds...but we do know and appreciate who holds it.  And we thank our family and friends for your continued love, prayer, and support.  She would send you a thank you note if she could!

May your life be filled with enough Sunshine 

to make you appreciate the Shadows

They would say "thank you"

We have been in the process of going through some more of our mother's things.

I stumbled upon a box of note cards.  They included drawings that our mother did between 2011 and 2015 when she finally switched from being creative to coloring. Mother has been a note writer for as long as any of us can remember.  And many of our family members and friends have been the recipient of some of her sweet words of encouragement.

The timing of my discovery was perfect.

I have recently finished Love, Loss and Dementia by Lauren Austine and Holly Gershbein, two childhood friends who grew up to share the experience of their mothers suffering from dementia. The book has been so helpful.

Holly included some words entitled "If my mother could talk with me".  She says that she thinks her mother would say she had loved her from the day she was born; that her mother had a wonderful life because she was in it and that her mother thanked her for being her best friend and advocate."

On a personal note as I began to separate the note cards and put them with envelopes to use in the future I realized that I actually had taken her drawings and created those note cards.  It was really good for me to be reminded of something I did for my mother.

At this point, it is very difficult to find ways to help her.  She recognizes us but something that's a little different - she never asks for anything (I mean that with respect -we all now appreciate the fact that she always needed just one more "little thing" - and that daddy had always been able to do it -something we never quite succeeded at).

And then as if my mother were sitting at my dining room table I heard her repeat a story from her childhood.

Her great-grandma, Annie Rebecca Gamble lived with them when she was small.  Grandma Gamble loved flowers and when she watered them she always said: "Can't you just hear those flowers - they are saying thank you for the drink of water."

And then I "heard" mother say "And I thank you for all you do for me."

Somehow  - although my mother cannot take care of herself - she sent me a message that helps me take care of me!

May your life be filled with enough Sunshine 

to make you appreciate the Shadows

Does your mother like it?

Sunday, August 4 - I went to visit my mother in the Skilled Nursing Center at Westminster Woods.  She was asleep.  My attempts to waken her were not successful  I ran my fingers through her pretty silver har and kissed her on the cheek.  I took a deep breath and walked out of the door.

I had time before I was due to be at church so I stopped for a moment at the fountain.  I sat on a bench and listened as the water moved - splashing gently.

And somehow this question - that has been posed to me many times - was at the forefront of my thoughts:

Does your mother like her new home?

Truth be told - I don't have a clue.  The four weeks that she has spent there have continued to be times of confusion for her.

And yet - Truth be told

She loves it!

And how can I say that with such bold assurance?

We know our mother.

She loves her family.

If she could tell us, mother would say she is delighted to be close to three of her children, on the same property as one of her sisters and not too far from some of her grandchildren.   We have no doubt but that we are her favorite people.

Our mother loves beauty.  Westminster Woods is beautiful.

She often said she'd like to live there.  She thought it wasn't possible.  When we first took her to the Terrace, we told her that we hoped that was just a stopover.  By the time it became a reality her mind had began to fail and even then we were not sure she fully understood that we were moving her.

And probably the most important thing we know

Our mother trusts in the Lord.

If she could, we think she would tell us that all is well.    She has often repeated "Not my will but yours dear Lord - this is what my prayer will be."

The four of us and our families believe that the Lord made a way for her to be in a beautiful setting.  Now, her room is just a room.  There is no reason to glorify that part.  She has a roommate.  CNA's care for her.  Sometimes she is in a wheelchair in a room with others who are like her.  She sleeps a lot.  When she is awake she looks at us like she knows us but is just not sure how.  

I went back to see my mother around 4:30 that afternoon  She still slept  This time she tried to wake up but just couldn't.  When I left I said "I love you" and she said "I love you" back.

Again I walked by the pretty fountain.  And I thought of another reason my mother likes it.  

We like it.  

That's the kind of mother, Iva Louise Nesmith Huffingam has always been - if we liked something or someone - that's all she needed!  

We are blessed!

May your life be filled with enough Sunshine 

to make you appreciate the Shadows

Strong Sibling Support System

This is my mother's

Beth, Caroly, Ann and Iva

This is mine

Paula, Lester, Cindy and Jonatha

This is my children's

Becca, Tray and Renee 

Three generations all share something in common.  It's a title I dreamed up when my children were teenagers.  All of us have a strong sibling support system.

For years I have seen my aunts rally to each other's side when there was a need.  Recently I have become very aware of aunt Ann as she goes to see my mother almost every day.  When aunt Thelma was soon to pass, the four Florida sisters got on an airplane and went to be with her and her family. aunt Ann, aunt Carolyn, and my mother came back to Jacksonville before Aunt Thelma died.  Aunt Beth stayed.  And I'll always remember that Aunt Ann was with my mother shortly after they had heard the news of their sister's death.

Just prior to our losing daddy, Lester wrote to us that he was looking forward to sharing the grief we were about to experience.  At the funeral - all of us were physically touching each other!  Through our mother's aging, we are of one voice.  I do not have to be at all concerned that a decision that is made is just mine - or any of ours.  Each of us has the love and respect for each other that is necessary at a time like this.

And my children - when one of them is doing something big or has a need of our love, support and prayer, we all get a text.  They probably also text and don't include me.  I have always said that they can be miles apart but you let something happen and they are all together.  

All of the above is why I chose to do this at a recent girls night out at Board and Brush.

As to my children, I should add a disclaimer. I really don't like the fact that we have grown in different directions.  I miss being the captain of the team known as Parker.  They grew up to be what I hope they would - strong, independent, capable adults.  They love and serve Christ, their mates, and their children.  I am very proud of them.

I can tell you, however, that just as my aunts rally to help our mother and my siblings and I are co-workers in our mother's care, my children rise to the occasion when their mother has a need and I appreciate that so much.

Our roots really do keep us all together. 

May your life be filled with enough Sunshine 

to make you appreciate the Shadows

You're never fully dressed...

...Without a smile.

Except I've been having some trouble finding mine recently.  Now if you know me very well you know that I smile a lot and more than that I laugh a lot.

When I saw my dear friend, Keith Holland, recently I noticed that something didn't seem quite right with him.  I told him his eyes looked like my heart felt. He later told me a couple of sad things that had happened to him.

Watching my mother come to the end of her life on earth; fully understanding that she has a better life ahead because of the faith she has in Jesus Christ - has caused an empty feeling in my spirit.

I have said - we are losing her more mentally but she is fairly strong physically.  She is, after all 96 years and 4 months old.  She is fine spiritually - and we lost her emotionally some time ago.

An interesting part of our lives these days is that when we visit her all she seems to do is smile.

I'm sorry that she is missing a tooth and sometimes she has said that she knows Keith can fix it.  That doesn't seem like a viable option at this time.  However - this picture of them is one memory that makes me smile.  Although it's quite a serious conversation - they usually make each other smile! 

I heard she was happy to see a former Sunday school teacher and even asked about his wife.

A photo of a visit from her sisters Ann and Carolyn and her niece Ellie and Ellie's children Scott and Lucy showed her smiling.

When I go to visit her I am always hopeful that she will be happy to see me.  She was better at that on Friday.  She even asked me if I could spend the night.  Sometimes she makes me laugh.

I've remembered various songs "Smile when your heart is breaking"; "Give the World a Smile";  and after an hour of Googling:

 "Smile a while and give your face a rest;

  Raise your hand to the one who loves you best; 

 Then shake hands with one nearby; 

  Greet him with a smile".

If I close my eyes and think on these words I can almost hear my mother singing that song to us.

When we were sad, or nervous or something wasn't going our way - she always thought that if we just smiled, we would feel better. which I am telling you makes the fact that I don't feel very SMILEY Face these days - makes me feel even worse.

Does she know I am sad?  Who knows?

And what am I to do about this?  I cannot change the fact that our mother's time on earth is dwindling    The Days of Her Life are coming to an end.  It is most likely not tomorrow, but surely closer than we will be ready for.

I recently read a scripture verse that is helping me  It's from The Message:  Psalm 34:8

"Look at Him who gives you your warmest smile. Never hide your feelings from Him"

HUM - God knows what's in my heart and you know what I think He understands that I am sad.

SO I'm going to keep smiling - even when I don't really have a smile to share!

May your life be filled with enough Sunshine 

to make you appreciate the Shadows

This is blog worthy. . .

"I became a journalist because I wanted to tell people's stories".

I wish I could tell you who said that.  I heard it on Sports Radio as I rode home from the airport with my son.  I had just enjoyed a great trip and visit with my Mercer-Nesmith cousins. The trip itself had offered me many experiences that I kept saying were "blog-worthy".

Is being a journalist the same as writing a blog?  Well, sort of.

My mother always told me I should write about others instead of myself.  Typical mothering!

Thank goodness blogging came into vogue.  I can write about someone else.  I have even been published under the genre.  But it's good I can blog.  I have so many stories to share!

So here's what I believe to be "blog-worthy".

John Wakeman; Rick Weitzel, Carol Wakeman; Wally Wakeman, Ester Wakeman; Paula Huffingham; Rudy Nesmith

Seven of the 18 children who called Ellie and Pauline Nesmith Granddaddy (or grandpa) and        Grandma were together to honor the memory of Al Wakeman - husband of our Aunt Thelma (second daughter of five and third child after Rudolph and my mother).

What a treat it was for me to visit with some of my cousins and meet their children.  I chatted with Sophia, the recent high school graduate daughter of John Wakeman,  She made me think of my eldest granddaughter, Abbie.  I had already noticed how "alike" my cousins, Rick Weitzel and Rudy Nesmith, looked in a photograph and when I saw them in person I could see so many of the characteristics I loved in my Granddaddy Nesmith.

The trip up to Michigan had afforded me the opportunity to ride through Georgia and remember my asking my grandmother if Cordele was like it was when she was a little girl.  I forgot the fact that she moved from there when she was two - that would have been in 1903 and I had asked her in 1964.

The drive through Tennessee was also quite memorable.  All of my children were born in Chattanooga.  I taught school in McMinn County.  I had to cross the Tennessee River by ferry to do that when I was a young bride.  We spent the night in Athens, the county seat of McMinn.  While being on I75 didn't afford me the opportunity to see any of those places close up, I did so enjoy the beauty of the mountains!

My cousins, Rick and Cheryl, have a sailboat and I had told a couple of people that I hoped to have the opportunity to sail with them. You can imagine my thrill when Rick told me that Cheryl thought I might enjoy some time on the water.

Then when it was time to come home, I, who had not flown since 2005, was astonished at what I could do re the flight on my cell phone.  I would have been lost without Cheryl's assistance and now I am ready to plan my next adventure.

So do I blog or journal?

Three years ago I finally got into the habit of Journaling.  My friend, Virginia, gave me Rate your Day in July 2016,  There are three separations on each page - I started in 2016 and the last entry was this past week.  I cannot tell you the number of times I've looked back over my words and laughed or sighed or teared up a bit.  I can tell you that there are many answered prayers and suggestions that worked (or didn't)  since I started.

Well, I do both.  And both are helpful to me and I hope to those who read my words.  For me journaling, blogging, just jotting down a note or two - all of this is therapeutic.  Kinda like enjoying a lake on a sailboat!

If you aren't writing - you should start.  As my mother would say - It will help you and make you feel better too!

May your life be filled with enough Sunshine 

to make you appreciate the Shadows

Said no one ever. . .

I walk into a long-term nursing facility at least 5 times each week.

The scenario never changes.

People sit in wheelchairs and smile - or try to - when I smile first.  There are sounds of angst; smells, and signs of bewilderment and I make my way through the halls.

I reach my mother's room.  Sometimes her roommate sits in a wheelchair, quietly coloring,

"I love you," she says trying desperately to be understood,

The room is small and feels so much smaller as I open the chifforobe to add anything I've brought from home.  I used to do the laundry but now the facility does it.  I did it often.  That's something inbred in me.  My mother hates dirty clothes and trash in a waste can.

Sometimes my mother is not in the room.  It has become necessary for her to be wheeled to the nurses' station.  That's okay.  She always wanted to be a nurse and she keeps asking for a task. 

She still knows me - and my siblings and her sisters.  Sometimes she gets us a little confused.

This is early in our time at the Terrace.  We have just begun our third month,  I chatted with a woman recently who told me her mother - who was sleeping as we sat in the lobby of the facility - has been there for a year.

"I hate it", she said.

"Yep", I replied

I wanted my mother's life to go to the next stage - in eternity with Jesus - from a beautiful surrounding, the kind she has always been a part of.  A lovely home and Iva Lou have always been synonymous.  I didn't get what I wanted.

When Rich Suhey was suddenly taken more than twenty years ago, I thought I was being so strong and maybe spiritual when I said: "I'm not angry, I'm just disappointed".  One day I read a definition of disappointment - "not getting what one wants".

That's true.  I didn't get what I wanted.  I wanted a life with Rich Suhey and opportunities to experience all the dreams we shared.

So how am I handling this disappointment - this "not getting what I wanted" because my mother is in "a nursing HOME"?  Oh, help.  I hate it.

And what does no one ever say?  I love visiting my loved one in a nursing facility

And how does one deal with it?  Accept what I can't change; Change what I can - and pray for wisdom in the process.

For several weeks I've felt overcome with grief and sadness.  I had this ache in my chest.  I could not seem to find my smile.  I know I cannot change the fact that my mother needs more care!  When I am feeling so burdened, I can take a walk; talk with a friend, listen to music.  And as far as having the wisdom - I just have to trust!

For us, three months have been an eternity.  But I know that someday - no matter how long my mother must be in this place - it will seem shorter.  MUCH shorter because her eternity with Jesus will be FOREVER! She has faith and so do I

May your life be filled with enough Sunshine 

to make you appreciate the Shadows

So many clothes

I really didn't have time to be sitting at my desk writing a blog.  And I actually wrote this three weeks ago.  I must include a disclaimer.  My mother's mental health has declined significantly over the past three weeks.  It could be a UTI - or it could be the results of vascular dementia.  Our family is in a state of trusting God and her physicians and caregivers.  At any rate, these are my words from Sunday, June 2.

My mother's winter clothes are piled on the bed in the guest room; her summer clothes are on my bed.

When we were getting her settled in the skilled nursing center she asked me a question:

"Am I going back to Brookdale?"

Of course, I had to say No - probably not.

And so she surprised me.

"Well, I think you should give away my winter clothes".

I was not impressed with that suggestion.

I told her we would just put them away until she needs them.

After a month of doing other things, it's now the time I've etched out to get all those clothes organized.

I told my children, "It's no wonder everyone compliments her on the way she dresses.  She has so many clothes to choose from".

They wasted no response in their reply

"Who bought them?"

Touche.

As I have been sorting I've had a few special moments.

Our mother loved Autumn.  While she never was a huge Halloween person, she loved the clothes that Bonnie gave her that included jack o lanterns.  She loved Thanksgiving and has sweaters for that Holiday and of course, she loved Christmas - one thing I remembered though was that she was often guilty of taking the decorations down almost before we finished dessert that was a part of our Christmas celebration.

Pine Castle Gala 2006

She loved to "dress".  I remember that she always wanted something called "kolinskies", a fur collar that includes the feet of the slain animal - YUK.  She did have a couple of like fur jackets.  There are lots of jackets in her winter clothes including this one that she had carefully kept in a plastic cover. 

Now I can tell you I know that many have had to go through your mother's things after her passing and that must be so difficult.  I know that I am fortunate to finish this task and then go and visit my mother.

And I know that the best thing I can tell you is that our mother is a great representation of the Provers 31 Woman.

25 She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come.

No, she's not really laughing but she is accepting - that strong faith that she has practiced for many years is the mantra that hangs over her life.

Yes, I can still visit my mother; I can still attend to her needs, although that's very difficult because we can't figure out exactly what her needs are.

So I'd say that my siblings are endeavoring to practice what she's taught us:

"In all thy ways acknowledge Him and He shall direct thy path."  Proverbs 3:6

May your life be filled with enough Sunshine 

to make you appreciate the Shadows

In the cereal

My sister, Cindy, and I were remembering our mother's wealth of knowledge regarding Scripture verses.

We began with Philippians 3:10 that she often said was her life verse -

 "That I may know him, and the power of his resurrection, and the fellowship of his sufferings, being made conformable unto his death;"

We also shared I Thessalonians 5:18

"In everything give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you".

We remembered the oval-shaped wall hanging that had been a gift from her dear friend Mary when we were San Souci neighbors in the 50's.  We don't know what happened to that plate.

When I called out Romans 8:28, Cindy said: "that was in our cereal".

Her husband, Robert, had been listening to our conversation and asked,

"In your cereal?"

Well no, not really in our cereal but it was something she oft repeated.

"There's always a reason", she would say, following it with God's plan is far greater than ours.

At 96 and a quarter (3/12/23) our mother still believes what she lived and taught.

A group of friends recently shared a few hours with her - Ron Allen and John Nill led us in some singing and there was one song mother wanted to sing - that we didn't know.   Ron's wife, Bonnie who is my lifelong friend and I could remember a little of it but not the whole song.

Not to be undone, I recently Googled the first line and I understood why this song is one my mother wanted to sing

Every promise, in the book, is mine

  Every chapter, every verse, every line. 

All are blessings, of his love, divine
Every promise, in the book, is mine

Of course, that's what my mother wanted to sing...That's what she believes -- 

Every promise in the book!

Now for a disclaimer.  You might have noticed that I can't seem to stop writing about my mother.  You might think I think she is about to pass.  Only the Lord knows when that will happen.  What I do know is that one way I process things is through words - and one never knows - perhaps the words I put on your computer screen will help you process something.  I can tell you that all four of my mother's children, her 11 grandchildren, 17 great grands, 5 Steps and all of those wonderful people who have married into our family know and understand the value of what we learned from our childhood.

May your life be filled with enough Sunshine 

to make you appreciate the Shadows

Glad not Sad

So I asked my mother -

"Do you know where you are?"

Yes

"Do you know what it is?"

A skilled nursing center

"And why are you here?"

Because I need more care than they could offer at Brookdale Mandarin

"And do you know how sad it made me to bring you here?"

No - you should be GLAD not SAD.

You should be relieved that I am getting good care.

And just like that my mother proved what I have always thought to be true.

She really knows how to adapt to her circumstances.  She is still a wonderful example of the verse she has long practiced.

"In everything give thanks" (I Thessalonians 5:18

So I am going to accept her words.  She's right...I should be glad and I am.  

Accepting it, however, does not take away our responsibility to oversee her care.  It is our intent to visit and ensure that the care she is receiving is as good a possible  Nor does it negate my disappointment that she is no longer in a beautiful apartment with lovely furniture or our desire to someday have her in a facility on the river!  We can trust the same Lord she has loved and served with those dreams!

May your life be filled with enough Sunshine 

to make you appreciate the Shadows

She was a good daughter

I used to say "I'll never be as good a mother as mine is - and I'm a good mother".

On this Mother's Day, I have been reminded that she was a good daughter.

Our mother is the eldest daughter of Iva Pauline Mercer and Ellie Wallace Nesmith.  She was born less than two years after her brother, Ellie Rudolph and in two years succession before Thelma, Carolyn and Ann.  Eight years after Ann, their youngest sister Beth was born.

From what I've read and observed, the family was always very close. Sadly they lost their sister, Thelma in 2011, but the four remaining sisters all live in Northeast Florida and they still stay in touch, love to visit with each other and keep up with their nieces and nephews.

Granddaddy Nesmith's birthday was May 12.  That being the case, when I was a child we often celebrated his birthday on Mother's Day.  In 1971, Grandma was very ill.  They had celebrated their 50th anniversary on January 1.  It was a wonderful time in our family,  However, the illness that had wracked her body for many years had taken a toll. Just 8 days later, grandma would go from "here to there" which was granddaddy's favorite expression of the time when a person left this world for Heaven.

But grandma didn't forget that it was his birthday. After her death, he told my children's dad that grandma had made sure he had a present.

I relayed that story to my aunts recently and I got this response from Aunt Ann.

"I smiled as I can imagine her turning to Iva Louise and telling her to go get a gift! She was to "go to" person for Mama for many years and I really appreciate all she did for Mama"

I remember that too.  My mother was always doing something for grandma.  We even moved there in 1959 to help when she had to be in bed for six hours each day. And she did things for our daddy's mother, and his brother and his aunt and the list could go on and on.

In reality - she has been a wonderful caregiver - 

And now, of course, the tables are turned.  It's Iva Lou who needs to be cared for. I'm not really sure why it is that I am her caregiver.  The eldest? the available? The "called to be a caregiver" because helps is first on my list when I take a spiritual gifts tests. 

It doesn't matter why it is.  What's important is that it is.

My mother was a wonderful daughter -- and caregiver and that made her an excellent role model for all of us!

May your life be filled with enough Sunshine 

to make you appreciate the Shadows