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