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