Remember the Banana Seat?

We drive by a location on our way to church or the girl's school several times a week. The owner often has things for sale in the yard near the road. A few months ago, we were driving by and he had some older bikes for sale-old enough that they reminded me of the style of the first bike that I learned to ride. That launched my brain into sharing a story with Tony and any of the girls who might have been listening.

I had been handed down a turquoise metallic finish bike from my sister, Barb. It bore a glittery turquoise seat which was a bit beat up having been through two of us. One day, I carelessly vacated the bike and left it to rest in the part of the yard where my dad and brothers often backed their vehicles. That evening, my brother-in-law, Dan, backed up into the yard, and you guessed it, over my bike! He felt terrible even though it was my fault. My parents did NOT feel sorry for me because they felt like I had been careless.

Not many days passed until the next time I saw Dan and when he arrived, he presented me with a new bike seat...a white banana seat with bright colored flowers all over it. I LOVED it!

End of memory. Back to the present. A few days later, we were passing by again and low and behold, would you believe, out by the road for sale was a turquoise bike. I quickly pointed it out noting that it was very similar to bike I had as a child. And then we got closer and I couldn't believe my eyes...it had the EXACT same kind of seat that my brother-in-law had bought me! I wanted a picture so bad but we were running late and though Tony was willing to turn around, it seemed silly to me for him to make that sacrifice. I figured we would get a picture later. But later it was dark. The next time we drove by, it was gone. I was so bummed and watched and watched. Then one day, I was on my way to pick up the girls from school and there it was. But this time I had no camera. I was delighted to find out when I got to the school that Britnee had her camera with her. So we made a stop on the way home and got these. How cool is it that I now have photos to scrap this memory?!

The Good, The Bad, The Ugly

When I started contemplating this post, I couldn’t figure out the moral to the story. So I figured I’d forgo the memory altogether. But just as I finished cleaning off the counters and putting the leftovers in the fridge it hit me, so here it is…

…as I was cleaning up after Sunday dinner, I loaded the dishwasher and scrubbed out the sinks. When I picked up the drain stopper, I saw that there was soggy food in the drain that the stopper hadn’t caught. Yuck! And then she came to mind – a girl from my childhood/teenage years that shall remain nameless. Mainly because other than this one memory, I don’t have a lot of good things to say about her. She teased me unmercifully and though I didn’t let too much teasing get to me, the digs that she got in smarted. I often tell my girls that the reason kids tease is because they don’t feel good about themselves and they have to make you look bad in order to make themselves look better – and I do believe that was the case with this girl and I even realized it at the time. But I still remember the cutting remarks.

Then there was the day I happened to be on kitchen detail at church camp. I had brought the last clean load from the back of the dining hall and was putting them in their proper places then checking to make sure we were indeed finished. She had been washing pans at the sink up front. The pans were done and she had drained the water to find food in the drain. I remember standing there thinking, “Ewww! Gross!” and then I watched in amazement while she matter-of-factly scooped out the crud and transferred it to the trash. That one action in that fleeting moment suddenly made her my hero. I totally remember thinking, “I wished I was THAT kind of person. One who would do a task like that without gagging or worse, leave it in the sink for the next person to deal with.”

I dare say every time I clean food crud out of my sink now that I have a home of my own, that girl and that incident comes to mind and I remember feeling such awe.

And that leads me to the moral…we should ALL be able to find ONE thing that is good in EVERYONE!

Last of the "Firsts"

Today is the anniversary of my father's death. And hopefully one of the lasts of all the firsts we've all had to face this year. I will post more on Dad later but right now, I wanted to leave you with a quote that I found and has been my favorite for the last several months.

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!

RE: Friends and Mother's Day

A friend gave me a REALLY, REALLY nice card today. My favorite one yet.

Front:
“As You Honor Your Mother”

Inside:
You’ll never forget
your mother’s face, the sound of her voice, the gentleness of her touch…they let you know you were loved.

You’ll never forget
the traditions she handed down, the things she stood for…they are her gift and your legacy.

You’ll never forget,
and you’ll always know that you honor her every day in how you live and who you are.

With Deepest Sympathy

She included a note stating that she was sure this weekend would be a difficult one for me, and that she was praying for me, etc. It was so nice. She felt really bad Sunday because she hadn’t had a chance to get a card in the mail but this one was worth the wait.