In Memory of Mom

Yesterday was the 2nd anniversary of my mother’s death. Last year, I had cried so much throughout the year that when it came to this day, I didn't want to schedule a day to mourn. I just wanted to relive the good memories. So we chose to do something happy in her memory. Tony took me to town and we picked out two hanging baskets of flowers for our front porch. Every time I looked at those throughout the spring and summer, I smiled.

This year, again, I wanted to celebrate her life rather than mourn her death. So I decided to splurge and shop at a store in the town where the girls attend school. The Jack ‘n’ Jill Shoppe reminds me very much of the New Yorker in her town where Mom loved to buy baby clothes for all the grand kids.

It was fun looking at all the beautiful clothes and trying to see them through Mom's eyes. There were two or three outfits that were definitely her style but this one just stood out to me. When I finally took it to the counter, the sales clerk told me she thought I was right in going with it. She said that it was the one I reacted most strongly too of all of them. I cannot wait until G4 is big enough to wear it.

Just Want to Tell You I'm Thankful

I'll never forget the day that this song was introduced to me. We were adding new songs to our chorus book at church. There was a couple who'd started attending after relocating from out of state. They had a few songs that they particularly loved from their former church. I knew a couple of them but this one I was unfamiliar with. Sis. Monroe offered to teach it to me but the catch? She was tone deaf. She would try to sing a phrase and I would play it back. She would tell me whether I needed to go up or down on particular words/notes.

My shirt was soaked with perspiration by the time we got to the end. But the result was this beautiful song that fast became a favorite. We might have re-written part of it because I have never found these exact verses or the tune anywhere. But it has blessed me many times over the years and God's presence would certainly come and hover over a particular little chapel in Mt. Pleasant, Michigan, whenever we sang it. I can still hear my parent's voices with Dad raspily belting out the melody and Mom's loud but steady alto joining in.

Just want to tell You I'm thankful for all that You have done;
For the stars and the moonlight and the setting sun;
And when my work on earth is through, I'm coming home to be with You;
Just want to tell you I'm thankful, that's all.

I'm even thankful for the trials that You send from day to day;
For they mellow my spirit and teach me how to pray;
Let me cling a little closer to Thee lest I fall;
Just want to tell you I'm thankful, that's all.

Just want to tell You I'm thankful each moment of the day;
For You never cease to love me or hear me when I pray;
And when I find it hard to stand, You're there to lend a helping hand;
Just want to tell you I'm thankful, that's all.

I'm even thankful for the times when Your Word has pierced my heart;
Showing all those imperfections from which I must depart;
And if I love you first and always, You won't let me fall;
Just want to tell you I'm thankful, that's all.
Just want to tell you I'm thankful, that's all.

Thinkin' 'bout Laundry

I was mulling over the fact this morning that I want to teach my girls some basic laundry skills (some of you are thinking I'm a little behind and others are gasping at the thought of child labor). I came up with a brilliant plan of taking photos of the position of the dials on the washer and dryer and incorporating them into a chart that I can post on the wall in the laundry "room" (which is really a hole in the bathroom :)

Anyway, in all this thought and contemplation, I was trying to remember when I learned to do laundry. I must have learned by trial and error and maybe a few phone calls to my mother after I got married because I do not remember doing any laundry when I was still at home. For those of you about ready to have a coronary at this thought...keep in mind that my mother had 4 children in 5 years then a nice space of 5 years before the next and 8 years after that before I came along. By the time she got to me, life was a breeze. I DID learn to clean the bathroom including toilets at a very early age and I dusted and vacuumed, did dishes and even helped with yardwork and kept the car clean, so it's not like I didn't do any chores. Looking back, I wonder if my mom felt about her laundry room like I feel about baking...my territory. She was awesome at getting stains out (a trait I did NOT inherit) so maybe that was something she wanted to do on her own and not trust me to take care of.

So, my question for you: when did YOU learn to do laundry?

Thanks for the Memories

What can I say, Mom? Words fail me at this moment. And yet I want to, need to mark this day as something significant to me and those who shared my love for you. I don’t want to sort through photos nor do I want to read the words that so many friends and family left on the website Tony did for you. What I really want to do is visit the cemetery, place some pretty flowers near the grave marker and just sit a while and remember. But I’m too far away to do that. So instead, maybe I’ll go pick up a pretty flower or two in town and in the mean time I’ll remember. Not sad thoughts of this day one year ago, but happy thoughts of years gone by.

Thoughts of you singing “How Much is that Doggie in the Window” to your little straggler – one who no doubt wore you to a frazzle day in and day out.

Thoughts of you giggling while working in the yard with Dad and watching me try to ride my much bigger, much older sister’s bike. I couldn’t sit on the seat and reach the pedals so I sat on the bar and my knees reached way out to the side like a frog.

Thoughts of you fixing fudge and popcorn for a snack on Sunday afternoon.

Thoughts of you and I shopping for a sailor dress for the newest granddaughter.

Thoughts of you sinking down on the piano bench next to me, putting your arm on the piano and your head on your arm and laughing yourself silly when Dad sang, "the load was oh so heavy upon my hairy back", then finished the song having absolutely no clue what he'd done wrong

Thoughts of you and I playing Skip-Bo on the bed in the middle of the night in Pennsylvania when Dad was away working and neither of us could sleep.

Thoughts of you craftily getting Dad to take you out for supper the night of my first date with Tony so he wouldn’t be at the house to intimidate him.

Thoughts of you laughing with my mother-in-law-to-be when you both realized that you’d chosen the same suit for our wedding – purple for you, teal for Betty.

Thoughts of you gasping in sheer horror when I turned from just having eaten a dill pickle to popping a piece of your fabulous fudge in my mouth (I was pregnant for Britnee and we decided it must be the sweet/sour combo).

Thoughts of you acting like you didn’t want Dad to kiss you in public, but secretly delighting in it, I think.

Thoughts of you taking care of me and my little girl when I was so terribly sick with another baby incognito.

Thoughts of you instructing Dad to, “Pray, Art, pray!” when Janae did her color show for us and turned all shades of purple that infamous night in 1998.

Thoughts of you bringing down a huge bag of MORE pink clothes the night before I was to be induced for our third daughter and then beaming with love and admiration when the labor and delivery was over and I’d survived it even with the administration of Pitocin that you so adamantly hated any of us girls to have to endure.

And the last and final thoughts of you being able to recognize Dad during the times you were awake in your final week on this earth. Patting his cheek and telling us all, “This is my husband and I love him.”

I love you, Mom, and as I sit here with tears pouring down like rain, I think Kahlil Gibran said it best with this statement, “When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.”

Thanks for the memories!

Dessert for One, Please

I was contemplating the pan of magic cookie bars I made the other day. They disappeared in such a short time! (maybe that’s the magic in them :) I was trying to decide when exactly I made them and how many days they lasted. I’m thinking less than forty-eight hours. Then I decided that maybe I should start making two pans at a time. And THEN I thought, “Maybe I should throw some butterscotch chips in one pan. That way I would be assured that the kids definitely wouldn’t be dipping into the second pan.” And then my mind went back to all those desserts that MY mother used to make with nuts - “to take away the richness”. Hmmmm…I’m thinking…

April Showers Bring May Flowers

That is what my sister said when Mom left us April 21, 2007. Her namesake, Zoe Violet, was due to arrive around May 28th. We had known for some time that Paul and Beki were having a girl and what the baby's name was to be. Mom was so excited to have a great-granddaughter named after her. Several of us girls (including Beki :) were hoping that Beki wouldn't go over her due date into June. In fact, we thought it would be especially neat if Zoe was born on May 21st, exactly a month after Mom's passing.

But we heard Mom say it before and we would have heard her say it this time, "this baby wanted her own date." Zoe Violet made her debut around 9:30 pm on Tuesday, May 22nd! She weighed 7 lbx 5 oz and was 19 inches long. Zoe means "life". So incredibly fitting, don't you think?