Advent Four - Christmas and Hallmark???

Today is the fourth Sunday of Advent.

We light the candle of love

     If you know me, you know that I love romance.  I'm a huge romantic.  I loved being in love - more than once and every now and then I think maybe I would like to someday be in love again.

     And I love the Hallmark and Lifetime Christmas movies that are oft-repeated and still really good.

     However, I can't figure out what romance has to do with Christmas.

     Unless the stories focus on family, helping others, traditions, music, children wishing for that special gift or the magic of the Christmas season.

     Well, I really know how it all connects.  I took the PR classes required for my degree in Communications.  I get marketing.

     And as a person who believes strongly in what we celebrate at Christmas, the birth of a baby would grow up and give his life so that we can receive forgiveness for our sins, I get it.  I think the first time I was ever in a Christmas program when I was about 4, I recited John 3:16 -- For God so LOVED the world. . .".

     And I also get it (and appreciate and love) that at Christmas we give gifts.  I still have some of my best gifts.    I've had this snowgirl since Becca was a baby.  That's almost 50 years.  Tray gave me a train in 1997 (something I wanted but never could afford when my children were growing up.  Rich gave me a cross in 1996,

 

     And I still love to give gifts.  By now my grandchidren want gift cards. That's fine except the girls are getting something small so that they feel it's a personal gift.  The boys asked for "THINGS" rather than money.

     When I was doing the research for the last Advent study for our Wonder Women Bible Study I found some examples of sharing God's love. Our first year as a single-family, some dear friends learned that Renee and Tray were praying for a bicycle (unbeknownst to me).  What a joy when they arrived at my door with a bike for each of them.  Becca dreamed of going to the Gator Bowl when her beloved Gators were playing Iowa.  I'll never forget her joy when she opened the tickets for her and her granddaddy. And the year I had totaled my car and needed to buy a new one (not new but still good), my children  handed me back their monetary Christmas gifts to help me with the down payment.

To me, that's the love in Christmas.

     And it's really about loving one another which we do by sharing a gift, something good to eat, a card that says we appreciate and wish someone peace, joy, hope, love.

     That love that was born at Christmas taught us to "Love one another".

     So now that I've given it more thought, I have determined that's what Christmas and Hallmark share.  When we watch those movies, we hopefully see examples of people who love one another.  Predictable??? Yes, but reliable and that's what makes them so good!

.One more special gift - I chose and purchased with a Stein Mart gift card  from the Wonder Women  

May your life be filled with enough Sunshine 

to make you appreciate the Shadow

 

Advent Three - When "life" gives you lemons

GRRRR

I'm in quarantine.

I'm concerned about the person whose positive test has landed her in a hospital.

And I'm a little disgusted that I've had to curtail my activities for the next few days.

I get tested twice a week so that I can visit my mother.  I have tested negative again and again.  However, I'm erring on the side of caution.  I'll get tested tomorrow and that should free me up for visits next week.  This week I'm pretty sure the plan will be Facetime visits.

To be honest, I have been vacillating between "all is well" and grrrr.  However, today is the third Sunday of Advent.  I lit the pink candle this morning. Pink to represent JOY.  

Hum.  JOY???  

I gave it some thought?  Yes, JOY.

Joy in my family - my eldest grandson expressed some concern that I should not crawl around on the floor putting the Christmas Train track together.  "I'll come do it", he said.  And while he was here, he also helped changed the windshield wipers on my car and chided me that I really need to do something about a noise that my front end is making.  I feel so very blessed by my family - he's just one of 13 (three children, three spice, and seven grands).  

Joy in my friends - I have had many sympathy cards (and one of them included 20 first-class stamps) sharing my sorrow at the loss of our brother  When I texted those I had been with this week to say that I had been exposed, I immediately got prayers of peace and healing.

Joy in my faith - As I prepared for the Bible study on Joy I found a couple of great resources.

I learned that the pink candle is also known as the shepherd's candle.  The angels told the shepherds the good news of a Saviour born in Bethlehem and it gave them great joy.  Pink is a JOYFUL color.

This quote was also meaningful to me:  "Joy is an attitude that we should adopt not because of circumstances but because we believe that God is in charge".

And that made me look for ways to find joy in my circumstances.

Over the next few days I have time to complete some projects - write thank you notes for those wonderful expressions of sympathy and address greeting cards from me to my wonderful Mandarin Museum volunteers.  I can watch all the Hallmark and Lifestyle movies that I have DVR'd and create a gift for my mother.

I'd have been looking for time to do that - if I hadn't had to quarantine.

So maybe my first expression should have been "GREAT!" 

May your life be filled with enough Sunshine 

to make you appreciate the Shadow

Advent Two - Peace be with you

I'm my worst critic.

I wrote a blog last Sunday about Hope.  And in the blog, I said that this week's candle is JOY.

I worked on my Bible study for November 30.  Because of scheduling for the month of December, we are focusing on two "candles" per study rather than one. I prepared for JOY.

At the end of the afternoon, I realized -- the second candle is PEACE.

I had no PEACE about that for a few hours.  I was really giving myself a lot of grief.

The women in the Bible study that night were very kind and forgiving.

Tuesday morning I listened to a Monday night voice mail that had come in after I was asleep.

"I'm going to Heaven", the voice said, "and I wanted to tell you I love you and Grace be with you"

One hour later, my brother, Lester telephoned - "Jonathan is with Jesus". 

That voice mail had been from my brother Jonathan at about 9:30 Texas time.  In about three hours, Jonathan passed away.  I'm pretty sure that when he said Grace, he meant to be saying PEACE.

For many reasons, life has not always been peaceful for Jonathan - and there have been times that there was no peace in the relationship that I shared with my Golf and Gator focused and some times very difficult brother.

But somehow, through God's grace the last couple of years we have worked our way into a much better place.

He has visited me a few times; we have talked about that faith that was instilled in us as children.  Since March of this year, I have talked with him each Sunday.  Last Sunday I sent a text to his wife, Tammie, with the words - "Tell Jonathan, I'll always think of our Sunday chats" and in a few minutes he called me to tell me "I've enjoyed our Sunday chats".  

And now it's Sunday.  There will be no Sunday chat with Jonathan.  However, it is the second Sunday of Advent and the candle of Peace will join the candle of Hope.

That's good because I'm having a hard time finding my smile - so I might not be Joyful.  

I smiled as I wrote those last words.  And then I thought of these words from Scripture:

"weeping may endure for the night, but Joy comes in the morning" 

Psalm 30:5

I'm not sure when this photo was taken, but I think his smile says it best -

Jonathan is at peace!

May your life be filled with enough Sunshine 

to make you appreciate the Shadow

Advent One - I hope so

You already know this about me.

I'm a romantic.

I have loved the music and words from The Sound of Music since I was in the 11th grade.  I absolutely swoon when the Captain asks Maria if she is interested in a life with him and her response is I hope so - and then I know so.

And this has something to do with Advent?

Although our family had Christ-centered Christmases, we did not go to a church that celebrated Advent.  Today I think that is rather strange because the roots of Glendale Community Church were in the Methodist Church.  However, I first came to appreciate Advent - with wreaths and candles and families lighting a candle and reading scripture when we were at the Nazarene Church,  Since that time, as an Episcopalian, each year I have an Advent wreath that is displayed in my home from the first Sunday of Advent and throughout the weeks that lead to Christmas when we celebrate the birth of  Jesus.

This year has been no exception -  I've been studying "Advent"  I even asked for some reactions to what people think when they hear the word Advent.

It's basically the four weeks preceding the day that we celebrate the birth of Jesus.

But it is a time of reflection as well.  There are four Sundays, each week focusing on some aspect of what a Christ-follower's life should reflect.  Hope, Joy, Peace, Love.  Anticipation, Celebration, Reconciliation, and Admiration.  (I know I'm not a preacher, I just like words to have some sort of commonality).

This week is Hope.

I love this definition of Hope -"anticipating the future that's better than the present".  That is a perfect definition for the way most of us are feeling during the 9th month of this Pandemic.  

I was reminded recently of a Jerry Clower skit.  It seems that there was a coon-dog after a rabbit and the rabbit went up the tree and the hunter climbed up that tree chasing the rabbit.  The dog just kept barking and barking and finally, the hunter said to his friends - just shoot up here amongst us, one of us has got to get some relief.

I think that's how we feel about the Pandemic.

One of the carols we sing during the Christmas Season, O Holy Night proclaims the wonder of the night that Jesus was born saying  " . . .a weary world rejoices"

That describes us this year, don't you think?  We are certainly a weary world. Do you think my current Advent wreath says that?

It looks pretty sad, don't you think?  Is there any hope that life will get better?

I certainly hope so.

No, I know so.  I believe that waiting and watching will eventually bring a solution. And I believe it will bring  Joy to the World!

Because I believe in another definition of Hope - that's a Biblically-based one - Hope is different from Optimism.  Hope is based on a Person - that very Baby Whose birth we celebrate soon.  He's what Advent is really all about.

And as for the Advent wreath, I promise to spiff it up a bit -- no need for it to look as sad as we all sometimes feel.  Where's the Joy?

Next week.

They work better when they are new

School supplies.

This is what I equate the first day back to school with.  I still love "back to school" shopping although it's been more than 25 years since I had to do that - at least for my children.

My youngest grandchildren start the 7th grade today.  They have already spent their first year in Middle School - like their parents but different from their grandma.

Seventh grade was, for me, my entrance into the world of High School.

It was 1959.  We had a new baby in our family.  Life had already gotten quite different for my sister, Cindy, and me. For six years I had walked to school or been taken by car. And Cindy and I went to the same school.  This year she would be a third-grader.  And she would be the chosen one for our mother to take to school.  So, I guess, mother and Jonathan (who was then five months old) took Cindy for her first day of school,

And I got on the bus and went to Englewood.

I'll never forget that morning.  I felt so strange.  A little bit alone I'm sure.

And then I saw a friend - and her mother - looking into a window in one of the wings at Englewood.  And I felt so grown up.  My mother sent me to school - she didn't go with me.

I always remember that morning now more than 60 years ago.  I especially remembered it this weekend as I read Mark Woods' column in the Florida Times Union.  "Boo Hoo's and Yahoos" -  what a great title.  His eldest child is starting college.  There's sadness and gladness all wrapped up into the same emotional state.  

My friend, Angela Boyd posted this photo of her son, Wilson, the day Angela and her husband, Steven, left their firstborn at the Univesity of Florida.

This photo is similar to Mark Woods' words as he described Mia walking away from them. 

We raise our children to be independent and seeing that happen brings joy and a question - now that they are growing up - what's the parent to do? Some yahoos, some boohoos, lots of praying.

In addition to having two 7th grade grands, I have a freshman, a junior and two seniors - not to mention a junior in college.  I am so glad I didn't have to make the decision about their return to "brick and mortar".  I am also glad I'm not the at-home teacher of any who are at home.  That's one of the benefits of being the grandmother.   I so appreciate those of you who had to make that "keep your children safe" decision and more than that grandparents I know who are the teachers. 

And now I'm going to grab a mask and take a walk - through the "Back to School" aisles.  I really need some pencils. No, I'm not taking a class - it's just that pencils work better when they are new.

May your life be filled with enough Sunshine 

to make you appreciate the Shadow

"You're not pretty when you cry"

 55 years ago.

I said goodbye to my siblings and my parents and I climbed into the family car and headed for Dayton, Tennessee.

After an overnight stop at daddy's sister, Gloria's lovely Atlanta home where I enjoyed a quick visit with my grandma Lonnie, we were off to Dayton.

Somewhere between that stop and lunch at the now-famous Daytona Cafeteria, my mother had a few words for me.

"Don't call too often.  Just once a day".  I can still see daddy cringe.

"Be sure you write to your sister and brothers and your grandparents".

"Don't fall for the first boy you meet" to which daddy chimed in "You are going to college to get an education, not a husband."

And in turn, I had a few words for my mother.

"Whatever you do, please do not cry when we are on the campus.  You are not pretty when you cry".

I'm not sure if anyone is ever pretty when they cry.

Well, she did cry.  And I cried.  And no doubt, daddy cried.

And the reason the Daytona Cafeteria is famous?  That's the first place I saw the young man who I would eventually marry.  It took 37 years before I would actually finish my education, but that's another story.

I've been remembering that time a lot as I see Facebook postings of some of my friends who are taking their first child to college.  It's a big deal.  

I've written before about the door size poster that my mother sent me.  It said, "Our Paula - ten days by foot, 10 hours by car, 10 seconds by phone and immediately by Prayer".  I was touched recently when my friend Lisa Handel Gray sent me this photo.  It went to Alabama with her daughter, Ginny.

I cried with each of my children.  And I cried when they came home and went back. After my son, Tray's first visit home, as he left to go back to school in Tennessee through my tears I said "Please don't go". I still get choked up saying goodbye. 

So this message is for all of you who are leaving a child at college  

First of all - it's okay to cry - Tears are good for you.  Even if you are not pretty when you cry.

Everyone is going to survive.  And just when you think you are used to them being gone - guess what - they will be back.

This is dedicated to those many friends I have whose children are off to college - and especially to my favorite cry baby - Angela Gallimore Boyd.  Just remember - Wilson can feel your prayers!  

Besides "tears are a language that God understands".  

 

May your life be filled with enough Sunshine 

to make you appreciate the Shadow

When the daughter becomes the mother

I thought it wouldn't happen until I was in my 70's.

Hello!

I have promised my children that when it is time for them to become my parent I want them to remind me that I have said I will listen.

For me, one of the most difficult parts of having an aging mother is that sometimes I've had to say "mother you really shouldn't do that".  Like the time she thought she could walk to her church and deliver something that she wanted there before Sunday.  Or the time she used her walker, but still moved plants that were hanging outside our kitchen window.  Or when she went through the line at Michaels without knowing how much money was in her checking account.

Just little things.

First - let me begin with a disclaimer.  I have been tested and I do not have COVID19.  At least I didn't on Saturday, August 8 when I made a trip to my nearby Carespot.

However, I was with a friend for dinner in late July. A few days later, my friend learned that she had been exposed just four days before our time together.   My friend quickly quarantined herself and went for the test.

She told me and to be truthful I almost forgot about it.

But when she became ill on her 12th day (since she had been with the other friend), I became a little more concerned.

I was mostly concerned about her.

I had a cavalier attitude as far as my personal health

"Yes", I told my daughter. " I will tell the friends I am supposed to have lunch with on Saturday, but no I'm not going to cancel my scheduled early voting responsibilities.  I'm not doing anything that drastic until my friend's results are back".

"Mom, it's time for me to be the mother".

Renee - you could have not said anything that I would hear louder.

So I made that call.  I prepared to stay home through this Thursday (14 days after my dinner with my friend).  I ordered groceries.  I started some creative projects.  But I was just sure that my friend was going to get negative results.

Until she texted me - Positive.

I took myself to Carespot for the test.  It was a piece of cake.  No worse than having one's finger pricked for a quick blood test.  I heard it could be as long as 18 days.  YIPES

I made the difficult calls to friends I had been with since I had been exposed to someone who tested positive. This was no one's fault.  We wear masks.  We social distance. The restaurant where we were is well covered - the only thing any of us could have done is stay home.  

Maybe I am in my 70's - but staying home is not on my current agenda.

My results came back quickly.  I had tested negatively.  I happily shared my good news.  Even my friend (who is recuperating at home) was delighted.

Now, will I always be able to hear one of my children when they think I'm about to make an unwise decision? That day years from now when I become the child and one of them is the parent?

To borrow from one of Renee's favorite growing-up words -

"Hopefully"

May your life be filled with enough Sunshine 

to make you appreciate the Shadow

She may not remember...but I do!

My siblings, our children and grandchildren can tell you that we have no doubt but it was the love they shared that most influenced us.  It was love for God and each other that made them the Christian soulmates, parents, and grandparents.  They did so many things for us and for everyone.

 Today would have been their 78th wedding anniversary.  I wrote this just one month shy of daddy's going to heaven almost 11 years ago.  Today mother is in a Care Center - and we cannot visit her.  She did ask me if I could get my lawyer to find a way to let me see her.  However, I'm not sure that she knows it's August 5.

I often write to help me deal with what's happening in my life - August 5, 2009 was one of those times - as is August 5, 2020.

He was a native of Jacksonville, a Landon High School graduate, and a soldier.  She was also a Landon High School graduate (in fact had graduated just a few months before), a girl born in South Carolina who had lived in Jacksonville since she was a child.  It was wartime - just a little more than seven months into World War II.  He was stationed in Louisiana; made sergeant and wrote her a letter.

                "I am going to make enough money...we can get married", he said.

There was a flurry of activity and Glendale Community Church canceled the midweek prayer meeting.  She had made her graduation dress with the idea that it might be a good wedding gown.  She had the dress, he thought they would have enough money and they knew they were going to be happy.

That was 67 years ago TODAY - August 5, 1942.

They spend their time now taking care of each other (actually she helps some wonderful nurses from Hospice take care of him) and sharing memories of their lives together. 

I know them well.  I am the first of their four children.

I valued their marriage so much that I chose to marry my college sweetheart on their 25th wedding anniversary.  That marriage did not survive.  The children from that union not only survived,  they thrived, but they don't like me to brag about them.

                I can tell you that one of the reasons those children grew up to be the people they are today is that 27 years ago when my marriage ended, my parents invited us to share their home.  I thought my life was over.  But mother and daddy encouraged me and helped me pick up some very shattered pieces.   Today I am more in the encouragement corner for although who they are is just as strong as ever - their minds sharp, their faith intense - their bodies - well let's just say, I needed them - and now they need me. 

Turnabout is fair play!

On my desk is a calendar that includes words of wisdom.  When I turned the page this morning I found a quote that is perfect for my parents' anniversary - one that even today holds a bit of a mixed bag of emotions for me.

"One word frees us of all the weight and pain of life. That word is LOVE." (Sophocles) 

My parents' love has been the underlying strength in all of our lives for many years.  Especially through the weight and pain!

Happy Anniversary, mother and daddy! (Oh and to that fella I married 42 years ago today - thanks for giving me three wonderful children - you're not such a bad guy after all).

August 5, 2009

May your life be filled with enough Sunshine 

to make you appreciate the Shadow

Just like daddy

Lester surprised me - big time.

We were having a discussion about caring for our mother.  Sometimes that is a very difficult thing for me to do.

"It's because you are just like daddy," Lester said.

No one had ever said that to me.  EVER

Like daddy's side of the family -- short like grandma Lonnie and aunt Gloria.  That's really about the only thing I'd ever heard.

"Well," Lester continued.  "Mother was a submissive wife.  What daddy said - although she sometimes bucked it a little (or a lot), always was the end of the story",

"You have taken daddy's place - you have to be the heavy.  She chose not to argue with daddy.  You are her child.  That's a totally different relationship".

I've thought about that a lot.  It makes sense now.

I've also started thinking about the other ways I am like daddy.

I have his hands.

I can be a wisecrack - easily.  Everyone who ever knew our daddy also knew he always had some little cute response.  Like the time, his pastor, Kevin Pound, teased him from the pulpit saying."Earl, wake Iva up" and daddy's response was "you put her to sleep, you wake her up".

Okay, I could have used a different way to say wisecrack.

However, daddy taught me to be a lady.

And there are ways I hope I am like him.

He lived by faith.  One of his most endearing responses was "Everything's gonna be all right".

He loved his children and their children and their children.  He loved his nieces and nephews.  And everyone loved him.

He sometimes said no and then said yes.

And he left a wonderful legacy for us all.

Yep - it's okay by me

I hope I am "just like daddy"!

May your life be filled with enough Sunshine 

to make you appreciate the Shadow

He stood up

Memorial Day is a pretty special day

My father was very patriotic. He was the first young man from their community to enlist after Pearl Harbor and was in the Pacific for 43 months. He was in the Army Air Corps. That meant he was a little bit army and a little bit air force. He never lost that keen spirit of patriotism and our family and friends have agreed that he really was a part of what Tom Brokaw said was "The Greatest Generation".

Even at the end of his life, daddy always wanted to be sure that mother or I had put the flag out - especially on a day like Memorial Day.

I went to the World War II Memorial in Washington DC in 2005 and when I returned home, daddy was really filled with questions. I remember that he said if he ever got a chance to go, he was going.

So, when he read about the Orange Park Rotary-sponsored trip for World War II veterans, he wasted no time at all checking it out. His trip would be paid for. He just needed to have a "chaperone".

My son, Tray, who is daddy's #3 grandson, was all over that. He would love to go. He has inherited a lot of that same patriotic spirit that was a big part of daddy's life. Chad and Brad (grandsons #1 and 2 respectively) also share that spirit and all three of them have spent time serving our country.

Daddy was so excited as they planned their trip. He supposed he might be the oldest person traveling (he wasn't) and was peeved as he waited for Tray to arrive for the ride to the Orange Park High School. My mother and I rode over for the pre-trip meeting and were there as they boarded the busses headed to JIA.

When they arrived in DC, they were surprised when Chad and Brad arrived. Daddy was thrilled. All of his "soldier boys" were with him to honor him and his comrades. It truly was a day that none of them would forget.

Tray called me several times during the day to give me a report. He would start to tell me something and get choked up. He would say, "I'll have to tell you that in a minute, mom." It would be when they got home that night, daddy a whipped puppy, but with a beaming smile, before Tray could tell me what he had been trying to say all day.

"Here granddaddy was in a wheelchair," he said. "And every time a band would strike up that song - you know the one that features all the branches of the service...when they got to granddaddy's part, he stood up."

I didn't see this happen and yet I know exactly how it must have been. I can just see him. I know about the effort involved and the importance of this experience.

So, on this Memorial Day, our first without our patriotic patriarch, I am remembering that experience shared between my daddy and my son - and I am thankful all the more for our heritage. The music is playing over and over (I googled it) and if you listen, maybe you can hear it too! (The US Armed Forces Salute)

Precious Hands

My hands are a mess.

Wait let me be more specific.  My nails are a mess.

I'm one of many women who have become accustomed to manicured nails  It's now been more than two months since I have seen Lisa, my nail tech.  The word I've heard is that she won't be back at work until the first of June.

Of course, that's not the end of the world.  Nothing has prevented me from using my hands to wash dishes, fix a meal, do the laundry, and most of all type.  I would really miss my fingers.

I've been thinking a lot about hands lately.

I wasn't there, but I have heard that on this day 49 years ago, my sister, Cindy, sat by my grandma Nesmith's bedside, held her hands and told her what a blessing she had been to so many for so long - caring for the sick, arranging flowers and making yeast rolls - all with her hands.

I was there when this photo was taken of my daughter Renee holding my mother's hands.  An interesting note is that Renee's hands are very much like her other grandmother's hands. However, Renee is like my mother in that she is very caring.


We have learned that when we have something we need to tell our mother, someone holds her hands.  We held her hands when we told her that her dear friend, Merle had passed and when our sweet aunt Gloria had gone to  Heaven.

No bad news in this photo, just love.

May 20, 1971, will be a day that always gives me pause.  And this year I've thought so much about my grandma Nesmith's hands.  Many lives were touched because of her hands.  And the number of lives has grown exponentially.

These are the hands that first knew the love and care of her touch.

They are the hands of my mother and her sisters.  I believe they are in order counterclockwise, beginning top right: Iva, Thelma, Carolyn, Ann, and Beth.  The photo was taken just a few days before Thelma passed away.  The caption says "Life is a balance between holding on and letting go".

I'm sure that as my mother and her sisters and their sweet daddy stood around grandma Nesmith's bed early on that May morning, they knew that it was time to let go.  And yet I have no doubt but they have all continued to appreciate her hands - and what they meant to so many!

And as far as the exponential thought.  If you multiply the hands of five sisters times their 18 children and keep multiplying - well I believe you'll get it.

This makes me just one of many who really appreciate the fact that these five sisters grew up to have the same sense of using their hands to help others.

They are, like their mother, a great example of Precious Hands.

                                                                                               May your life be filled with enough Sunshine 

to make you appreciate the Shadow

Glad to be your child

She probably doesn't remember this.  But something that I did just this week reminded me of the day.

First-born Rebecca was six years old.  We lived in Chattanooga and she had a friend whose name was Ed.

It was a cold, but sunny January afternoon.  Becca and Ed were playing in our backyard.  She knew the boundaries, but when I went to check on her - you guessed it - they had ventured a little farther to the iced-over puddles at the bottom of the hill.

I watched as they ran and slid on the little patches of ice. 

To say that I was not amused is just scratching the surface of my emotion.  I could make an excuse and say the reason I got so upset was that I had a newborn and a three-year-old as well as the independent Becca.

Later that night she sat by my side at a church service.   On a broad ruled tablet and with some crayons, she wrote something:

"Dear Mommy, I love you and I am glad to be your child".

Still makes me smile.

Fast forward more than 40 years.

I participated in a webinar that focused on how we as caregivers are handling not being able to see our loved ones.  I've said many times that this is one of my most difficult experiences.  Twice a week Facetime visits of about 15 minutes with my mother have replaced the three or four visits of a couple of hours.  When I am with her, I write on a whiteboard.  When we are trying to have a conversation she has to repeat again and again - "What's she saying?".

It's emotionally draining to say the least.

However, the facilitator of the webinar suggested that we do things to make us feel "closer" to our loved ones.  I've already been using the moisturizer that she had used for years.  I have a cup of tea in a china cup. A day or so ago I even had a Wendy's Frosty.

And I write her letters.  Just letters about life on the "outside".  I'm "isolated" but not as much as my mother is.

And here's what reminded me of Becca's note:

I love you, mother and I am glad to be your daughter.

That's the way I closed the letter.

This is Iva Louise Nesmith Huffingham's 73rd Mother's Day.  It surely will not be as special as some of those we have celebrated together.  This is my 49th Mother's Day.  It surely will be a bit different.

Life is just not the same/

But one thing remains - I love my mother and I am glad to be her daughter - and I'm pretty sure that my three bundles of joy would say the same.

May your life be filled with enough Sunshine 

to make you appreciate the Shadow

Pieces of the puzzle

Sometimes I am asked - where do you get the inspiration for what you write?

Well, first a disclaimer.  Because I am a Christian, I truly believe that my inspiration comes from the Spirit of God Who dwells within me (Colossians 3:16).  Anyone who knows me well (especially my children, my siblings, and my closest friends) are more than aware that I don't always "act" like any Spirit of Any Higher Power dwells within me.  That said.

Sometimes it's nature.   This morning I'm listening to the quacking of the geese in the nearby streams and waterways and every now and then I see one neighborhood cats run across my backyard.  Note: Cats are not my favorite animal.

Sometimes it's what someone says or a devotional I read.  On this the 49th day of being safe at home, here are two offerings from different writers who had no way of knowing what we would be experiencing when they wrote and their words were published.

Heidi Gaul talked about how much she likes to read and if the story is suspenseful, she finds her pulse racing and often turns the page to the end of the book.  She likens that to her own life -- "Now as I face battles common to everyone, I've found peace in the knowledge that He has everything under control..." Psalm 139:16.  (Mornings With Jesus, April 27, 2020, published by Guideposts).

In a similar devotional (Strength with Grace, April 27, 2020, also published by Guideposts) the author not identified, I read "There is no quick solution, but let's commit to work toward the goal of relishing the simple things".

Amazing - to me anyway.  And of course, sometimes it's something that's happening with my family.

My son, Tray sent the photo on the left as his family put together a jigsaw puzzle. 

Barely a minute later, the one on the right arrived from daughter, Renee  

And not to be undone, I quickly opened a jigsaw puzzle, tossed the pieces on my dining room table and sent them a photo.

No words needed to come from them.  I knew - (and they knew)  I had hurriedly put my offering of a puzzle together - just to be a part of the fun!

This morning I took a look at the photo I sent them.  If I was going to put together this puzzle of one of my favorite places in Mandarin, I needed to be more organized.

I needed a board, not a tablecloth.  Hum.  No boards in my garage, maybe some poster board in the office.  No.

And then I had a thought.  I could make a "board" with some of those manila folders that are now empty since I reorganized files. 

So now I'm prepared to sit at my dining room table and work on the puzzle. And watch as I make it all fit.

Which brings me to my life right now -- Over the last few days as I have thought and prayed about the next part of my life - a part that will require less caregiving.  My mother is certainly not about to die, but I know she needs me less and less.  I've been wondering what am I going to do?  Shall I write more?  Is there something else I can do that is a service to others.

I think the parts of the puzzle of my life are going to come together.  Mainly because I am not putting them together, but I am hopefully allowing that Spirit of God that dwells within me to make it fit!

May your life be filled with enough Sunshine 

to make you appreciate the Shadow

Acceptance

If there's anything our mother endeavored to teach us it was to practice acceptance.

I googled the word and found these definitions:

" Acceptance means to be in the embrace of what is without resistance and true acceptance is one of the most powerful and life-changing practices you can choose for your life journey".  

Until the middle of 2019 when our mother moved to a skilled nursing center, she often googled.  One of the things she hated most was that the move meant giving up her beloved laptop and access to the Internet.  

She would not, however, have found it necessary to google the word acceptance.  She knew what it meant, practiced it and made sure we did the same!

When I read some of the Facebook posts of my friends with dismay, no matter which side a person takes in the issue, I truly endeavor to practice what she taught us.

And that goes in many directions -- those who are more liberal or conservative, younger or older, a different color or do not share my faith -- 

Just because someone thinks, feels, believes or even looks different than me doesn't make them unworthy of my friendship.

Besides....those friends who are different from me - still value our friendship. 

I don't think any of them try to change me -- and I don't want to change them -

The key to true friendship is acceptance.  And on Valentine's Day, 2020 when we are thinking about LOVE -- I think a definition of that might also be ACCEPTANCE.

May your life be filled with enough Sunshine 

to make you appreciate the Shadow

"Sorry for your loss"

I addressed three Sympathy cards today.

One to the daughter of a lovely woman who sat at the table with our mother at Westminster Woods at Julington Creek.  My sister, Cindy, and I have enjoyed watching the tender love and care she gave a baby doll.  We will miss her sweet smile.

One to the wife of a man who has been undergoing pain and suffering for many years.  She will miss him, even though she is surely grateful that he is no longer in pain.

One to the parents-in-law of a young husband and father whose little girl will soon be a year old.  This death seems to us quite senseless.

No matter the reason, death is a difficult pill to swallow. Each of the people who receive my card is experiencing great grief.

My words of comfort probably seem trite.  "I feel your pain" I might say.  I think I can say that because I've known a little about personal grief.

In 1973 a very unexpected pregnancy ended in a miscarriage.  I remember the shock I experienced when I read that someone had requested prayer for me - because my baby had died.   The pregnancy was not planned - however, I still think of that little boy and wonder what he would have been like.

In 1998 just a few months into our marriage, Rich Suhey did not survive a heart attack.  Those were the doctor's words - "he did not survive".

I've lost grandparents, my daddy, and a great-niece.  Recently I lost a dear aunt.

I've walked through the death of someone close with many friends and loved ones.

In a few words, "I've had my share of grief".

Timing is everything and this week I have been reading Traveling Light by Max Lucado.  He has used the 23rd Psalm as his platform and written some very helpful words.  At least very helpful to me.

In the book, Lucado tells about a young couple in Brazil who were so excited to be expecting their first child.  When that baby died "In utero" the young mother's had these words:  "It's more than that a baby died. A dream died".

When Rich died, I said again and again that I was not angry with God - just disappointed.  Finally, I realized that disappointment is a form of anger.  I didn't get what I wanted - a lifetime of sharing joys and happiness as well as the difficulties that life brings.  I lost my partner.  My dream died.  That was 21 years ago, even now sometimes . . .

However, the faith that has been instilled in me from my childhood has stayed strong in my heart.  I believe that God is good.  We don't understand His actions - we can, however, "TRUST HIS HEART" I believe He allows only what is good for me in my life.  I also believe He wants me to take my grief and let the love I feel for others show.

So I have addressed three Sympathy cards...I cannot really feel their pain.  I can, however, be truly "sorry for their loss".

PS Traveling Light by Max Lucado is a great read - no matter where you are in life!

May your life be filled with enough Sunshine 

to make you appreciate the Shadow