Bitter and Sweet in the Hodgepodge

Once more, Joyce has given us seven questions to ponder and answer. Click the cute button above if you don't know what I'm talking about. And please join in; we love company. 

1. What's the first image that comes to mind when you hear the word 'spring'? Which phrase

 best describes the season of spring where you live right now (today)-sprung! almost there, 

or still waiting?

First image that comes to my mind when I hear the word "spring" would be robins, then crocuses, daffodils, and tulips, in that order.   But daffodils make my mind "spring back" (not forward!) to the day I gave birth to my first child.  In a couple weeks, he will be 27 years old.

Where we live, I do believe that spring sprang yesterday. Even though there are still patches of snow everywhere, the birds are declaring that spring has arrived. 

2. Bed, couch, stapler, garage door, computer mouse, recliner, flashlight, door knob...which

 household item containing springs most needs replacing in your home? Speaking of 

springs...did you ever own a Slinky?

Garage door needs replacing.  Yes, I owned a Slinky. I remember watching it 

crawl down our long, wooden staircase in the parsonage when I was 9 years 

old. Very cool toy. 

3. March is Women's History Month. Share a favorite quote by a woman.

This woman and I share a birthday: 

4. What's a question that looms large in your mind right now?

The question that looms largest is so close to my heart that I can't even write it in on paper, let alone here on the internet.  

So I'll give you the one that's looming large but doesn't choke me up.  "What can I be doing to love Jesus more?"

5. Are you a sugar freak? By that I mean how much do you love sugar? With all 

the bad press sugar gets these days, have you made any efforts to reduce the 

amount of sugar you consume?

I am definitely a sugar freak and have made no real efforts lately to reduce my intake. 



6. Would you rather have less work to do or more work you enjoy doing?

The latter.  Vocationally I would gladly take on more tutoring students.  I love teaching.  Avocationally, I have enough quilts in my head to keep me busy till I die. 

7. Ever been to Texas? Of the top ten Texas tourist attractions which would you most like to 

see-The Alamo, The San Antonio River Walk, The State Capital, Dallas World Aquarium,

 Padre Island National Seashore, Houston Space Center, Schlitterbahn Waterpark in New 

Braunfels, Six Flags Fiesta Texas,  Moody Gardens, or Galveston Island?

As a matter of fact, my older sister lives in New Braunfels, so I have been to Texas. Unfortunately, the week we were there in September of 1999, I was having my second miscarriage, so my memories are all bittersweet. I have been to most of those places, and all are associated with both beauty and loss. The Alamo--I couldn't concentrate on the placards; I was holding back tears. The River Walk? Beautiful, but I had to stop often to rest. Padre Island was good for my soul--to be near the God who loved me even though He was taking my baby back to Himself before I was ready.  Six Flags? Umm, I mostly sat while waiting for Paul and the kids to ride the rides. We went to Schlitterbahn and that was somewhat of a good distraction to me, but there were babies and strollers everywhere; that was hard.   To tell you how time flies, my nephew is now a lifeguard at Schlitterbahn in the summer. 

Sorry to get all melancholy on you, but this is where the Hodgepodge sometimes takes us when we least expect it, right? 

8.  Insert your own random thought here.

As I'm writing this, it's Tuesday, March 10th.  My first son, Ben,  and daughter-in-law, Deirdra,  have been married three years today.   Gosh, three years. Seems like three months ago that I was blogging about their wedding.   

 They have a sweet marriage; we are the richer for having Deirdra in our family. 

Monday Minutiae

Good morning. It's Monday, and I'm inundated by minutia.  I like that word--"minutia."

Here's what i found at Merriam-Webster about it:

Definition of MINUTIA

:  a minute or minor detail —usually used in plural

Origin of MINUTIA

Latin minutiae trifles, details, from plural of minutiasmallness, from minutus

First Known Use: 1782

Rhymes with MINUTIA

Saint Lucia, Yakutia

Rhymes with Yakutia? Really?  In case you're wondering who, where, or what Yakutia is, some am I, but I'm not going to look it up. I'll just add it to my list of minutiae. (That's not a typo; with the "e" on the end, the word is made plural in Latin.)

An-y-way:

1.  Did you see the chemo quilt I made for my friend Renee?  If not, here it is. She is holding it the day before treatment started. And yes, she colored her hair very bright pink

and got it cut short and sassy. She's a ball of personality. 

2.   Our oldest son (26)  broke his leg on Saturday at a bachelor party weekend. He was playing paintball. He was about to jump from one bunker to another, when his foot planted in a ditch and he heard a pop.    This happened two hours away in Delaware, and he didn't call his wife for several hours. He texted her when he was en route to the hospital like it was no big deal.  (His Aunt Linda is a nurse and he was in good hands.) Thankfully, it was a clean break of the fibula near the ankle and he isn't in much pain.  And he isn't in the wedding; he was just invited to the party for the fun of it. 

3.   I've lost 13 pounds since Easter, and finally feel that I'm in control of food rather than the other way around.  I attribute the success to God for freeing me of the stronghold of eating for comfort. If you don't understand that concept of emotional eating, it's okay. Thank Him that you don't. I also believe that Weight Watchers is an excellent program once a person has determined to lose weight for the right reasons. Accountability is key, and there's something about attaching a dollar amount to the weigh-in that really helps me. I am also a big proponent of walking for exercise--both physical and mental. My goal is to lose 15 by my birthday (two weeks away).  Can I do it? 

Hodgepodge: Spring, Sun, and Sneak Peek at Son's Wedding

Before I plunge into the Hodgepodge Q & A, I want to announce that today is our eldest child's 24th birthday. This year his gift came early, eleven days ago. The gift of a beautiful wife, who said to him in her vows, "I hope to grow really, really, REALLY old with you!"

Happy birthday, Ben, and God bless your marriage. We love you and Dee very much.

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Now, on to the HP.

1. The first day of spring is here...do you enjoy working in the yard? Weeding, raking, mowing, planting-your favorite springtime garden chore? How about your least favorite?

I enjoy yardwork initially, when spring is still a novelty. My favorite chore is planting annuals in borders and baskets. I also enjoy watching my hubby and sons spread a truckload of mulch around and my daughter taking joy in her herbs and veggie garden. I really love to sit back and swing on the porch swing at 5 in the afternoon with a tall glass of lemonade and just admire the beauty of all the new color, inhale the smell of new bark mulch, and think about putting the hose away when I'm good and rested.

My least favorite springtime garden chore is weeding. Apparently God doesn't enjoy it, either. He likes to plant and water as do I, but delegates the weeding to me, which I,following His example, delegate to my children.

2. What puts a spring in your step?

Anticipating any kind of pampering--and relishing the results. Before the wedding I had many springs in my step. A pedicure with polish that matched my dress. A manicure with French tips (or is that tips with a French manicure?) The tips were something I'd never had, but I like them a lot). I also got a makeover at Nordstrum and the gal who did my makeup told me that pink looks great on me because my skin has pink undertones. Now I am rethinking what I've been living by since 1987--when a "Color Me Beautiful" consultant told me I'm an autumn. I've been wearing fall colors on body and face. I am now suffering PSID (Personal Seasonal Identity Disorder). Help! What do YOU think? Am I a spring or an autumn?

3. Describe a time when you had to spring into action.

En route to my sister's college graduation in Baltimore City, about 12 years ago, I saw a little boy step off the curb on a busy street and a second later heard a "thud!" He'd been hit by an SUV that was next to us. I told my dad to pull over and I sprang out of the car to help the child. He was flat on his back but conscious. I stood over his skinny little black body and wiped the gravel off his pink hands. He was scared, and his friends who had dared him to step off, stood back, equally scared and apologizing and crying.

It was a bright sunny May day at high noon, and while I was nervous as all get-out on the inside, I was calm on the outside and began delegating action (see a theme here?) . I got the boy's mom's number and called her with pertinent info. Someone had called the ambulance already. I knelt down and asked if I could pray for him. (I'll call him Tyrone.) He asked, "Are you an angel?" That scared me because I thought it meant he was seeing the bright lights of heaven. I calmly said, "No, Tyrone, I'm not an angel, but I love Jesus and want to help you." He screamed, "I can't see anything!" I thought for sure that meant he'd hit his head so hard that his optic nerves had been damaged. But in the next second, I was told by another bystander, "He's just looking at the sun." So I moved a bit to the left and instantly there was shade on him. He smiled, "Oh, that's better! I can see! I can see!" and I was happy that being fat enough to eclipse the sun maybe isn't the worst thing in the world.

4. We're having carrots for dinner...would you prefer yours raw or cooked?

Let me answer that by asking you this: Are you serving them in salad or in stew? I like them raw in my salad and cooked in my stew.

Sorry for being a smart-mouth today. Can't help myself sometimes. Even with a delete button at my disposal.

5. Do you take the shampoos and other sundries from your hotel room when its time to check out?

Yes, ma'am. I figured we paid for them. Why not? I take the coffee and creamers, too. Sometimes when I run out of my regular supply, you will find me digging through the pantry like a drug addict in my pj's, muttering "Where's that hotel coffee? I need coffee so bad, where is that HOTEL coffee???!!!"

6. What's the most enjoyable team or club you've belonged to and what was it that made it so?

The Varsity Cheerleading Squad in high school. Actually I was chosen in 7th grade for the JV, but in 8th grade made Varsity. I enjoyed the camaraderie we shared . It was a Christian school, and we had devotions and prayer before every practice. I was in really good shape and had a petite frame, coordination, and flexibility which have all long since vanished. The school spirit, the getting out early for away games, the kissing my basketball player boyfriend in clandestine encounters in the dark history classroom. Well, you asked what made it enjoyable! I cannot tell a lie.

7. Is cloning a sign of progress?

It might be scientific progress, but I think it's dangerous to messing around in God's territory with DNA.

That's all I will say about it.

No, actually, I will add one more thing (of course): The day they decide to clone me will be the day the world declares that science has REgressed. "All of me is more than enough for all of you..." Woops, I think I just butchered some lyrics there.

8. Insert your own random thought here.

Here's Ben being made perfectly presentable by his dad. Ben's face is getting pink from nerves. Paul's lips are pursed in his signature "Mr. Fix-it" face. This is real stuff, not just "pretend for the camera" nonsense.






Here's Dee, being primped for the last time before Ben sees her. Her mama is holding her train and veil. This is the start of the photo session behind the Historical Society building in Haddonfield, NJ. It was a private courtyard where the bridal party and parents met to witness the "first look" .

















I will reveal more pageantry very soon and blog about various segments of the big event so that I can re-savor the moments.

The Man You've Become

I spent some time this weekend trying to find the perfect song to dance to with my son at his wedding . Let me tell you, moms, if you need a good, cathartic, two-Kleenex-box cry, this is the exercise for you. Make sure you are not wearing mascara, and if you need a shoulder to cry on, don't be alone.

I listened and then told my husband to come here, I needed a hug. "I need a moment," I told him. He put his arms around me, not knowing what I had just been doing. Poor guy, this woman of his just starts crying out of nowhere?

He patted my back and stroked my hair once, and then said, "Okay, that's been more than a moment. It's been like six moments." Somehow I managed to tell him briefly what was on my heart, something about letting Ben go that's really hitting me right now.

He said, "That's what we raise to kids to do--leave home and be independent." I said, "I know, but..."

"I know" is not what I meant in the moment. (Or in my six moments.) What I really meant in my heart was, "We raise them to leave us? Are you kidding? That's a lot of blood, sweat, and tears, to just have a kid after 23 years "up and leave ya!" That's what I was really thinking.

That, plus, "I'm so proud of him and I'm so happy for him." There's always a plus.

Anyway, here is the song I believe I want to dance with him. It expresses my heart in a way I wish I could have written. Grab a Kleenex, or two, or the whole box. You're gonna need it if you're a mom, especially the mom of a son on the verge of getting married! Get ready to have

" a moment." Or six.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tsLlUnUICQM

Snow. Shower.

What do you get when you cross a thin layer of snow and ice,

icky rain and old windshield wipers, too little sleep the night before, followed by too much coffee the morning of, fur-lined snow boots and daringly high heels, pink
carnations and baby's breath, toll booths that could bankrupt a Rockefeller, fifty women dressed in pink and black, one really tall dimple-faced guy in a Ravens polo, a lot of prayer and Kleenex,


darling shoe-shaped white chocolates, a show-stopping leopard print chair and a tiara, delicious food, thick gloves and thin stemware, a heavy microwave and a light Christmas ornament,

with a petite dimple-faced sweetheart of a girl who thought she was just going to breakfast at Chick Fil-A before an 11:15 premarital counseling appointment at her church?



You get a surprise bridal shower in New Jersey, that's what!



Ben did a super job of getting Dee there without her suspecting anything. She expected to see our daughter later in the afternoon at her wedding dress fitting with bridesmaids, but she was clueless about the shower.


She dressed in casual pink and black (her signature colors) and looked adorable, as usual. But her twin sister had brought her a leopard print jumper and black high heels and black sweater to change into.










He stuck around just long enough to eat lunch and publicly honor her with a few words.

I had the distinct privilege of hearing so many good things about my son from ladies in that church who have gotten to know him over the past year.

I heard the following.

1. "So you're Ben's mom! He is
such a mature guy. Really a great match for Deirdra."

2. "Ben is a real man's man. A strong leader. I can't imagine him saying, 'Whatever you say, dear. Whatever you want, honey.'' I chuckled, "No, not at all. On the small things he'll compromise, like wearing pink in the wedding, but on the big stuff he sticks to his convictions."


3. "Deirdra used to babysit my girls and we all just love her. When she told me she'd met this great guy and fallen in love, I had to meet him. Had to see if he was good enough for our DeeDee. Don't worry, he is!"

4. (From Dee's mom) " I could not have picked a better man for Deirdra if I'd tried. He treats her so well. When you're a single mom, that's just extra important to know your girls are being taken of. Ben is an answer to many years of prayers." Dee's mom knew he was special when he helped pack, carry, and load up boxes and stuff into her car after her other daughter's wedding. "He is so helpful and such a gentleman. I don't know how we could've done it without him. I knew at that moment he was a keeper."

Dee's twin sister, Siobhan (pronounced "Shuh-vahn") knows her better than anyone. The shower was perfectly decorated in a very Dee way. Check out this chair, but first the story behind it.

As you know, twins have this mysterious "thing" between them --a sixth sense, I guess--that they are really in sync with each other when they're miles (or states) apart. Siobhan was looking at Craigslist for furniture for her own place when she spotted (no pun intended, truly) this leopard print spiked-heel shoe chair. She emailed her mom the link. "We've got to get this for Dee. It would be great for her shower and her house!" Of course this was all hush-hush. Siobhan bought it for $30 really fast. A few hours later, she got a text link from Dee. "Check out this chair. I love it! Ben would kill me if it came in the house, but isn't it great?!"


















photo credit:
Ambrey Zaun

(The shoe chair and all the ones with brighter lighting are her pictures. The others are mine.)









Cupcakes courtesy of her friend,
Katie, who has her own cupcake
business. One word for these:
Wow.









The prayers of blessing meant so much
to us. Marriage will be a big adjustment, but maybe moreso for Dee since she will be leaving all her friends, her mom, and her church in NJ. Thankfully her sister lives ten minutes from their new apartment.





















One woman asked if I was embarrassed as Ben's mom to see Dee opening
lingerie. I jumped up with my camera and said, "No way! If it leads to grandkids, I'm all for it!" (I'm all for it anyway, but I can hardly wait to have grands of my own.)




























Hugs and kisses for the soon-to-be Mrs.

A Moving Weekend

Call it grace or else I'm just getting crusty in middle age, but I didn't cry.

I didn't cry when he was packing. I didn't cry when we were loading the truck. I didn't cry when we unloading the truck. I didn't cry when, with permission from his bride-to-be, I was arranging things in their new kitchen. I didn't cry as we drove away, nor when I came home and walked into his empty room .

What is wrong with me? I wondered a few times. I thought I'd be a blubbering mass of protoplasm on this day. I wasn't.

I call it grace, and I will call it grace when I do cry, if that happens, which is perfectly normal behavior for a mother when one of her babes leaves the nest to build his or her own elsewhere.

Not gonna lie, my oldest and I? We've had our share of arguments, disagreements, fights, and whatever other synonyms for altercations you can think of. The boy--the young man--is so much like me. Stubborn at times. Strong-willed. Tough to reason with when he gets his mind made up. I would be lying if I said I never wanted to kick him out of the house. I'd be lying if I said he wanted to live here indefinitely. Hard.ly.the.case.


But his stubborness, strong will, and toughness are also traits of determination and focus on a goal. That's the upside when channeled properly.

He is more mature than I when it comes to quick repentance, however. It takes me much longer to admit my faults and failures. He will duke it out and then calm down, apologize, and get on with the business of living peaceably. Me? I let things fester and ferment. I am seldom inclined to be the first to apologize. I'm so glad God gave me Ben as a role model for repentance. I have told the story about how he was in breech position when it was time for him to be born. Fifteen minutes, the doctor had said. If he doesn't turn in fifteen minutes on his own, I will have to turn him or take him C-section.

My husband and I told the OB doctor that we were Christian and wanted to pray that Jesus would turn our baby. Could we have fifteen minutes alone? Yes, she agreed, but sounded doubtful. Babies don't usually do a 180 on their own when they're full-term. She left the room. We prayed a simple prayer. "Father, please cause this baby to turn even though it seems like there's not a cubic inch left in there for that to happen." I had faith and was determined to deliver him naturally, with no drugs, regardless the pain to me. About ten minutes later, I felt a "flip" in my womb and there was no mistake. This baby had turned from "feet first" to "head first," which astounded the Muslim doctor. We gave all the credit to Jesus. In that delivery room, God demonstrated His power to turn lives around in an instant when we call on His Name in faith.

That son who left my womb nearly 24 years ago has now left my home. Our home. He has grown up wise and wonderful, if I do say so myself. I don't think he could be better prepared to live on his own. I have no doubts that he is ready. He is a man, strong and skilled, healthy in mind and body, with a work ethic akin to his dad's and a social ethic akin to his mom's. He'll be fine.

This moment came without a breakdown for me. Although, I will say something took my breath away for an instant. When I got home and needed something out of the garage, I saw a lot of empty space where his couch, love seat, chair, dining table, and end tables had been stored.

But I didn't cry. I felt a small pain in my heart, but what overtook that pain was a peace that this transition had come seamlessly.


And maybe I know why.

This past summer Ben and I had come to a place of forgiveness and healing and understanding that had never been there before. It took a breakdown on my part, a humbling that was more like an emotional crash. God has given Ben (and Steve also) a combination of spiritual fortitude and compassion for people bound up. I had been bound up in bitterness and couldn't unbind myself. They were there. Ben fought many a spiritual battle on my behalf, many times being up half the night rebuking Satan and his minions, calling on God to help us in our time of great distress and pain. Steve and Sarah did as well, but Ben is definitely a warrior and a counselor. We have hugged and said "I love you" more times in the past seven months than in the past two decades.

I got a hint of the warrior he'd become when he was a little boy. He turned everything into a gun when I was going through my anti-guns-in-this-house phase as a new mom. We didn't buy toy guns nor let family members give him guns. We took away any guns he "inherited" from friends. But he would use his thumb and forefinger because Mom couldn't take those away! I just didn't understand boys back then. I had grown up with all sisters and we just weren't the gun-slinging types. Our thumbs and fingers were for braiding hair and holding baby bottles. I'm grateful that God has given boys that innate desire to protect and defend; I have always felt safe because of it.

Ben has always had a way of drawing out the real reasons we do what we do. At times I hated it; I preferred the neatness of status quo as opposed to the messiness required in repentance and restoration. I thought he was just stirring trouble for the fun of it. No, he wasn't. He was wanting authentic relationships. . I think he and I finally one of those.

This past weekend of literally moving was nothing short of a merciful moving of God's Spirit in our lives. I can let go of my son with peace and confidence in the grace of God.

Ben's Boards

Our firstborn is about to be married, and of course as a mom, I've spent a lot of time trying to remember the past 23--almost 24--years of his life which have sped by. Ben was
born with a passion to succeed, to get ahead, to accomplish more than the average Joe. (No offense intended if you're Joe or love a Joe.) In fact, he was even born "ahead of the game." The day after my baby shower, three weeks ahead of his due date, it was like he said, "Okay, Mom, I'm 7 and 1/2 pounds, very long and strong. I gotta get outta here. You've got the clothes, diapers, crib, and car seat for me. You've got the milk. I'm good to go." The contractions started up at 9 a.m, lasted all day, and then he "clocked out" of the womb at 5:00 pm on the dot. It's the time of day that he is now ready to leave the office after a productive eight hours. Boom. Planned. Executed. Done!

When it comes to sports, he's always been good at them--baseball, soccer, and lacrosse especially. In fantasy football leagues he has won several times, even as a high schooler up against grown men. He won again this year in one of his three leagues. By one point!

He's logical, methodical, and can build a case for almost anything. He can reason like a trial lawyer, and wear me down like one, too. I remember when we were going to get a new dog after our border collie died in 2002, I made the kids write a persuasive essay about which kind they wanted. Stephen just wanted "a good dog." Sarah wanted a puppy because she loves babies, and puppies are so cute and you can train them the way you want them. They don't come with bad habits. (Hahahahaha.) But Ben had multiple reasons for an adult Golden Retriever from the shelter. He was specific that way, and substantiated "why an adult dog," "why a Golden," and "why from the shelter." (Three main points with strong supports under each one. Way to go. Gotta love that.) Guess what we ended up with?


The very first "real" job at age 16, he wanted to work as a bus boy at our local Italian restaurant. (Well, he really wanted to wait tables because of the bigger tips and interaction with people--including girls--but he wasn't old enough to serve alcohol.) He marched in there, head held high and looking sharp. He interviewed with the manager while I waited in the car. An hour later, he came out with a contract.

This Christmas when I went shopping for him, the list included mostly things off his wedding registry that he will need in the apartment before the wedding. (He is moving in on January 14th, and his bride will join him when he carries her over the threshhold in March. Sniff, sniff. )

The shopping trip made me recall Ben's boards--the ones he has asked for as he's grown up.

When he was 12, he asked for a skateboard.

When he was 17, he asked for a boogie board.

When he was 19, he asked for a snowboard.

And now he is 23.

Here's the board he asked for this Christmas.
























Son, may you spend a lot of time in prayer as you "iron out the wrinkles" in your new life as a married man. I love you.

Mom

This 'n That

Happy belated anniversary to my baby sister. She's been married for 8 years.
She was my flowergirl when she was 7, and dreamed of her own Christmas wedding ever after. So she went with the last day of November when the church was decked out much like mine, but chose not to do the stress of the week of Christmas like I did. She is smarter than I am, by a long shot.


Today is the Parents' Luncheon for graduates at our daughter's university. I am taking another mom who doesn't know her way around too well, and meeting up with Sarah and her friend, Kelly. We are stopping by my hubby's office near the school so that he can drive the five of us. He is the guy you want at the wheel when you need to get from here to there, with a path that includes one-way streets, four-way stops, metered parking, parking garages, high heels, cold temperatures, and a big campus.



He left the house wearing a suit and Sarah asked, "Why a suit, Dad?" He answered dryly, "Somebody's gotta look good." Well, he does. I just love a sharp-dressed man. My daddy always made a suit look good, so I guess I'm partial to the "professional uniform" that includes a starched shirt and silk tie. And cufflinks for the finest occasions!

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Speaking of my daddy, I had one of those flashbacks today of a Christmas past. I was remembering when I was about 10 or 11, and had not a dime to my name, but wanted so badly to be able to buy presents for my parents. Daddy gave each of us girls $10 to shop with, and we bought him what he always asked for and raved about with "gush overkill" such as I've never been able to duplicate. What was the gift? Socks. Boot socks to wear with his cowboy boots. He wore cowboy boots with his suit because they supported him better than regular shoes. What I think of, looking back, is how his gesture of giving money to us so that we could have the joy of giving back, was such a picture of how our Heavenly Father operates. We have nothing without Him, not even one breath. But He gives to us, and it's His joy to receive back from us our piddly offerings of love, and I do believe he "gushes" over our mortal attempts to bless Him.

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My husband came home from work on Friday, changed his clothes, and then--without announcing it and without even so much as eating first, he began moving all the furniture out of the family room and then steam-cleaned the carpets. I don't know where he gets his drive. "Friday night" and "carpet cleaning" don't belong in the same sentence. At least not in my book. But he writes a different book, which is why he is so successful, I guess ."Work before play" is his motto, and I usually get it reversed. You know, to balance him? He decided while he was at it, to run the machine through the living and dining rooms also, so his sidekick rearranged her schedule and chairs to accomodate his ambition. I like the results. The dog doesn't. The Man declared, "No more tennis balls in the house! Look at this dirty water!" :(

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My sister Andrea had to put her dog to sleep a couple weeks ago. Wyatt was part yellow lab, part German Shepherd, and part greyhound.Three days before her birthday they let him go. He'd had bone cancer that was making his right front leg useless and extremely painful. They took him to the vet to see about amputating it, but the vet looked at the x-rays and saw that the cancer had spread to Wyatt's lungs and liver. They sedated him for the x-rays, and while he was calm and peaceful, Andrea and her hubby made the gut-wrenching decision to go ahead and put him down. Making him take another trip home would be agonizing for him. Making that awful ride back to the vet when it "was time" would be agonizing for them. So sad. Wyatt was the dog that her hubby got as a puppy when he returned from his deployment. He was very much a part of the healing process, and he was a heck of a watchdog, which is what every law enforcement officer wants as a sidekick.

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I decorated the tree all by my lonesome this year. No one wanted to help.

My parents are not celebrating Christmas for the second year in a row because "it's pagan." But unlike last year, I am not letting it "get to me." I have grown in the area of accepting what is, and respecting that other people don't owe it to me to keep traditions that I value. Am I sad and hurt? Yes. Do I still whine about it? Sure. But I'm not letting it zap my joy like it did last year. That was miserable.

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I have seen everything. My oldest son came home from a weekend in New Jersey where he'd gone clothes shopping at Syms in Philly. Syms is one of our all-time favorite stores. It's going out of business, so he seized the opportunity to buy some pants and shirts for work. And get this: a pink silk tie and pink shirt. People, can I tell you that my men have been anti-pink for as long as they've been alive, but now, NOW that one of them is taking a bride who LOVES pink, and is having him wear PINK in the wedding, well, he was rather sportin' it last night. "Mom, do you think this is too much pink?" And since he already had it on, I kept my mouth shut. No matter what I said, he would stick with his own opinion. He's like me that way. He really just wanted me to say, "No, it's not too much. You look great." And he did. Pink washes him out, but what mother can't see the handsome in any color?

That's it for now. I think my vehicle needs a vacuuming before I chauffeur anyone around in it.
I've had my "play before work" motto fulfilled at this point, so off I go. Have a happy Monday! I plan to.

50th Anniversary Party, Part 3: Before the Big Moment

A close-up of the floral arrangement we put at my parents' table. I could hardly take my eyes off it. (Note to self: it was made by Dee's Florist in Aberdeen.)











My parents met while at KU, and have been avid Jayhawks fans ever since. Mama set up this vignette next to the Welcome table. Love it! (I think I've mentioned a time or two that my dad tutored the late great basketball star, Wilt Chamberlain, at KU. (Wilt wasn't as good at algebra as he was at hoops.)
I always loved when my daddy tutored me in algebra, too. No one was too great or too small for his attention and brains, least of all his non-mathematically inclined second daughter.


Waiting for guests to arrive, my youngest was a bit on the bored side.
My oldest is standing there looking
suave and his fiancee' debonair.
Andrea is busy hauling water. Paul, AKA my Silver-haired Sweetie, well...I never get tired of looking at him from
any angle. Even (or especially?) at 50 he makes a suit look mighty fine.


There he is, beaming with his one and only daughter. They made a sweet greeting team. I made the floral arrangements in those vases. Love me some lilies. The basket contained little mints wrapped in gold "50" wrappers from Party City. The scrapbook paper in the front was for autographs as people entered. The gift bag held cards for the happy couple. My mom provided the gorgeous lace tablecloth,
a sentimental objet d'art if ever there was one.

Here's a close-up of one of our centerpieces.

In case you missed the how-to, it's a scooped-out pumpkin with a potted mum set down in it, some baby's breath, and silk florals poked in for added color. These were door prizes and thank-you gifts to people who helped us. Cost: approx $15 each.

We used two sheets of Faith paper from Hobby Lobby on each table, as well as silk leaves and two tealights for ambience.

A Beautiful Weekend up North

This past weekend my daughter and I drove to New Jersey to meet up with our son and his fiancee' and her mom for a multi-purpose weekend:

1. to taste-test the food at the restaurant where we will have our rehearsal dinner
2. to scope out the wedding and reception venue
3. to see Deirdra's dress (Be still my heart! Heart-stopping gorgeous!) and to get Sarah's bridesmaid's dress ordered
4. to go to church together


Our get-together dove-tailed with their engagement picture photo shoot (which I can't wait to see).

All the food was yummy, and we sat around like Food Network critics ordering six different entrees, two different salads, some appetizers, and desserts. Naturally we shared everything till we had zero tolerance for one more bite. We narrowed our selections and are working with the owner to come up with a sort of prix fix menu. Let me say for the record, our table agreed the burger we shared six ways was the absolute best we had ever tasted. In fact, another guest came over on her way to the ladies' room and said, "When I heard you all talking about the burger, I made my husband order it! Wow, was it ever good!" The pictures in the restaurant didn't turn out, but we will definitely be making a tradition of visiting that place. (I will tell you the name of it after the wedding!) My personal favorite was a pork and apple pasty. Dee described it as "Thanksgiving in your mouth."

We went to church Sunday morning, and I needed the message. A familiar passage about the
seed falling on four different types of soil, I initially wondered if the message was going to be
"Bible lite." But far from it. The pastor asked us to take out paper and identify which of the four our own heart soil is. He also asked us to make a list of our worries, because perhaps we don't realize that worries are choking the tender plants that are trying to grow up in our hearts. Then we were to pray our worries to God and surrender them. Wow. I didn't realize until they were on paper just how many I have. Somehow writing them down and praying about them made them smaller and less frightful.

Afterward in the lobby I had one of those moments that sort of "freeze frames" in the mind . Ben had walked off to get a drink at the fountain as one of Dee's old acquaintances approached her. She was 'catching up' and asked, "Is that your hubby?" "Hubby to be, "she beamed. I don't know. It made me gulp. Dee's mom said, "And here's the mother of the hubby-to-be." I reached out my hand and said, "He was my baby just a few months ago, wasn't he?" She understood; with her was a seven-year-old son and this woman also had a 20-year-old son. The mother and I locked teary eyes for a brief moment as we guarded our emotion with nervous laughter.

An hour later we were at the wedding venue, touring the beautiful historic site, previously a church. As all the details were being handled by the bride's mom, I took the liberty to explore solo. I glanced around the grand foyer with the din of chatter behind me and thought,
"This is really happening. My baby boy...born in March...a man now... taking a wife in March... starting his own new family." I can't explain the mix of joy and sadness that welled up in an instant. Our family unit as we've always known it, going from six down to five, yet simultaneously six to seven and eight and nine ...as we embrace his bride's family and then, who knows?, maybe ten, eleven, twelve...as those baby Ben-n-Dees come along??

And I found myself wanting to cling to him, my son, my tall and handsome and responsible and funny and intelligent and strong and precious son whose birth ushered me into the sorority of mothers past, present, and future. My heart rejoices in God for the treasure of this child, this man, this hubby-to-be.

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The glorious colors of fall, and the beauty of family. What a combination!

My girl, 22






















The future Mr. & Mrs.































































































And "The Moms," one of whom is dressed in red and having an electrostatic
hair day.













A really big leaf, whose length was greater than my shoe. I wonder if the Mama Tree
watched him flutter and release himself when he found a darling little leaf to complete him?