Remembering Daddy...

As I opened the door late last night, to let the dog out, I realized that it was a lot cooler outside than it was in the house…

I followed the dog outside and sat down in a rocking chair on the patio.  Of course, I immediately looked up at the stars.  I cannot look at the stars without thinking about my daddy.  We used to lay on his USMC green, wool blanket on the back lawn and look at the stars.  He would tell us the names of the constellations and how sailors used the stars to navigate.

I’ve told the story many times before, along with a lot of other memories about my daddy, on my blogs.  I guess the star-gazing memory is special to me…

As I sat there, looking up at the stars, I realized that my memories are tangible to me; perhaps because I think about them—and Daddy—often.  Something else occurred to me as I sat there: all those memories from so long ago happened right here in this same backyard.

Tangible memories….

I can sit where he sat, eat where he ate, look at pictures from our house back then….that is still my house now, and remember him.  And when I do, I feel surrounded and comforted by those same memories.

Life ends, eventually, for all of us.  I am so glad that my daddy lives on in my memories…

Happy Father’s Day, Daddy!

Celebrating Life...

Well, it’s my birthday.  I have had a lot of birthdays in my time.  A few parties, gifts, and their memories linger for many of them. 

 I remember turning eighteen: I had been up all night finishing a paper for my Contemporary History class.  I slept in, and then went to school in the afternoon. When I got home, there were eighteen pink roses waiting for me, a gift from my boyfriend.

Most of my birthday celebrations were family affairs.  As a child, I was allowed to choose what I wanted for supper on my birthday: I always chose barbequed spare ribs.  And mostly got them…

As a mother with small children, my birthday became less of an occasion as my children’s birthdays took center stage.  My youngest was born on May 27^th, so I stopped having my own birthday cake.  It was just too much to have two birthday cakes in two days.

I remember my fortieth birthday.  I spent the day alone, moping.  When it was finally over, I was ready to carry on with my life.  Just that day bothered me….

That’s sort of where I am right now, without the moping.  I celebrate the day with family and then just carry on…. I have reached the age where many of my friends and acquaintances have died.  Any thoughts of immortality or invulnerability are gone…

Each day is like a birthday: waking up and being grateful for the day I have been given.  By making every day special, a birthday is less of a celebration and more of a normal occurrence. I like it that way: celebrating the everyday and appreciating what each day brings. 

And yes, celebrating birthdays is still fun.  My kids will be here later today for a BBQ, not spare ribs but hamburgers.  And the cake is left over from John’s birthday in March.  It’s a little munched after being in the freezer but, I’m sure, it will still be delicious.

Happy Today!  This is my present….

Remember Me...

Today is a difficult day for many of us.  It is hard to be devoid of expectations on a day filled with commercial hype…. 

For those of us who have lost our own mother, it is a sad day, too.  And if, like me, you had a difficult relationship with your mother, it can be even harder.  Sometimes, I just wish I could show her that I have “turned out all right” and that I am not a failure… Other times, I feel guilty for thinking how much better off I am without her guilt trips.

As for my own children, I don’t harbor much in the way of expectations.  I am lucky enough to know that they love me, and that’s enough.  I can’t deny that I would love the special brunch, or dinner, or a barbeque in my honor, but it isn’t really necessary.

I look back on the years when my children were young, and I see things I did, or didn’t do, that I would like to change. Of course, that’s not possible.  I have to remind myself that I did the best I could at the time and that I did better than my own mother did for me. 

That’s what it’s about really: doing things better than the last generation.  Doing or undoing things that we remember from childhood.  There are many things from my childhood that I didn’t do to my children and I am grateful for that.  It means that lessons were learned, albeit the hard way.  I am also sure that my mother did better than her strict, Germanic mother did.  It’s a progression, a journey, toward perfection as a mother….

My mother has been gone for thirty-two years, nearly half my life.  I have reviewed and relived many things from the past in my mind, second-guessing her motives and chastising myself for not being different, or “better” than I was….

But it all comes to naught.  The past is the past.  The future isn’t here yet, and today is all we have.  So today, I am grateful to have three beautiful children who have grown into loving, responsible adults.  I am glad that I taught them to be independent and that they mastered it. 

  

I guess what I’m trying to say is that I love my children and I know they love me.  I don’t need anything special on Mother’s Day, just what I hope they do every day: remember me.

And to my children: please know how much you mean to me and how proud I am of you.  I pray for you every day and think about you always.  I see you in your own children and I delight in the memories they evoke for me.  I know you love me and that you appreciate what I did for you, and you are most welcome!

Just please, remember me….

Farewell....

What can I say?  My heart hurts right now.  A beautiful lady who was a huge part of my life for nearly forty years has died….

  

She has had Alzheimer’s disease for more than a decade and didn’t even recognize her own sons when they came to see her.  I know it was hard on them because my ex-husband (her first-born son) and I have talked about it.

My daughter told me today that she is saddened, too.  She thought she “shouldn’t be” because Grandma has been gone from all of us for a long, long time.  As I told her, the fact is that we are never prepared to lose a loved one, no matter how imminent the death might be.

She’s gone.  How can that be?  It isn’t fair, that’s for sure.  She was more to me than a mother-in-law; she was my Other Mother.   She was my shelter from the storm of my relationship with my own mother.  She was everything I wished my mother had been: kind, caring, gentle, loving and approachable.  As odd as it might sound, my mother was never approachable……  Yet my Other Mother was always there for me, as I tried to be for her.

Walking in the orange groves, after supper, so many years ago when I was pregnant with my first child, we would talk.  My husband worked evenings and my in-laws invited me out to their ranch for supper at least one night a week.  So, we talked.  We walked along a row of orange trees highlighted by the setting sun and she answered my questions about my pregnancy.

Over and over again, I asked her to tell me about “labor” and what I would be going through.  I asked her what things I needed to have on hand before the baby came home from the hospital.  And I listened in amazement as she described how I would feel when I saw my baby for the first time.

And she nailed it…

I remember after Steve and I separated that  she hoped we would reconcile.  She even “set us up” by asking each of us to come out to the ranch and help her on a Saturday afternoon.  I hadn’t seen Steve in a while as he was dating someone else and so was I….

It was hard to see her so desperate to fix something that was irretrievably broken, and neither of us could get mad at her for trying so hard.  And neither of us was in a place to try to fix it.  It was over, but NOT my relationship with my Other Mother.

She continued to be my friend and called me frequently to see how I was doing.  After her husband died, she called me and asked me to come by and see her.  She had a gift for me: a beautiful, dark red flower vase.   She wanted me to have something of hers to remember her by.

As if I needed an object to remind me of her…..

And now she’s gone.  Gone to a place where she is whole again and not suffering.  We are left with our memories—wonderful memories—of a beautiful woman, a beautiful person.  We will talk about her often, sharing stories and remembering her with much love and affection.

 

And shed some tears, too….

Cali

From Podunk to Windsor Castle, Oh My!

How many presidents have served our country since Elizabeth II was crowned Queen of England?  Can you remember all of them?  Dwight D. Eisenhower, John F. Kennedy, Lyndon B. Johnson, Richard M. Nixon, Gerald R. Ford, Jimmy Carter, Ronald Reagan,  George H. W. Bush, William J. Clinton, George W. Bush, and Barack Obama…..to be exact.

Eleven presidents, a lot of history, and sixty years have come and gone since a young Elizabeth II was crowned Queen in 1952.  Amazing, isn’t it?

I suppose I am distantly related to Elizabeth II, considering that Matilda of Flanders, wife of William the Conqueror, is a relative of mine….  It’s a connection too far-removed to even consider, really…

Ah, but a there is another connection between the Queen and me.  Well, not me, but my hometown, Podunk.  You see, the Queen wants REAL cowboys to participate in the celebration of her Diamond Jubilee.  Real horse-riding, trick-roping, standing in the saddle cowboys.  Actually, cowgirls.  Or, as their group is known: The Riata Ranch Cowboy Girls.

I remember Riata Ranch from my teenage years.  Several of my friends and acquaintances from school were members of their riding group.  They used to “barrel race” at the annual rodeo.  I remember that they even appeared at Madison Square Garden a couple of times…

And now, they are getting their six minutes’ of fame, appearing at Windsor Castle, along with a stage coach and all the accoutrements of cowboy life, in jolly old England.  For the Queen….on her Jubilee.

Is that cool, or what?

Cali

Taking Things For Granted....

Not a good idea, if you ask me. There are no guarantees in life.

Special moments can be fleeting, with lots of time in between. They must be savored when they happened, and remembered for as long as possible.

I went back to work on Thursday. It's been more than seven months since I was able to see patients and give them nursing care. I cannot believe how much I missed it. Perhaps because I have been doing it for thirty-five years, it was an integral part of my life that was missing.

And the time off was not a “practice” session for retirement. When I no longer need to work, and cannot continue doing the difficult work I do, it will be a celebration for me. Conclusion of a time in my life. And an end to the daily drudgery of having a job.

For seven months, I had no purpose, other than to get well. I had no direction, other than to try to get back to work. Just as I could not do the tasks I needed to do at work, I couldn't do those things I wanted to do at home.

Retirement will be different. It will be my choice. My logical next step. On my terms. And, instead of going out with back pain, I will go out with a sense of accomplishment. I will complete the job I started, so many years ago. And I will start my next job: enjoying my life and my love in a relaxed, retired setting.

Somewhere....

I will watch the sunset, and maybe a sunrise or two. I will relish life's little joys, and somehow, get through its sorrows. I will be me, I will be free, and I will enjoy what life brings.....

Every day.

Cali

V - I - C - T - O - R - Y...

It's funny how much it means to us sometimes. And is nearly meaningless other times.

Today, I really, really wanted the Packers to win. They haven't been in a Super Bowl since 1998. And they haven't played the Chicago Bears in a championship game in sixty years.

Moreover, after several years in Bret Favre's shadow, Aaron Rogers had a chance to shine. And he didn't, really. But, after the game, he graciously gave credit to the Packers' defense for the win. And admitted that he hadn't played his best game.

My favorite moment in the game? When 338-pound BJ Raji intercepted the ball and ran 18 yards for the third touchdown for the Packers. It was his first, ever. And the Packers needed it, too.

So, have I turned into a sports “nut”? No, I just enjoy watching football and eating pizza on a Sunday afternoon. And winning the game?

Priceless.....

Cali

Moving On....

Indeed, it is time to move on.....

The holidays are over now. Noelle goes back to school tomorrow. And she turns eleven tomorrow, too.

So, today, we are packing her things in the car, getting ready for the trip north to her home. We have had a lovely time for two weeks and now, it is over.

Tomorrow, I will take down the Christmas trees and put the decorations away. Another holiday celebration is just a memory. And that's fine with me: memories are what make each day bearable. Memories, and the hope of more memories.

Life goes on, and so do we....

Cali

A New Year....

It's a new dawn. It's a new day. It's even a new decade: the second one in a new millennium!

Such an auspicious day and date should not be taken lightly. I need to have plans. Hopes. Dreams. Goals. Resolutions? I don't think so....

What I wish for myself, I wish for you, too: Happiness, Peace, Contentment with your place in life, Love, Honor and Joy in the little things. It's the little things that comprise the big things, I think.

May you find just enough peanut butter to make yourself a sandwich, just enough sunshine to plant a garden full of flowers, just enough rain to nourish your soul, and abundant laughter to make everything it touches worthwhile.

Happy New Year, All!

Cali

A Perfect Christmas...

It's a beautiful day today. The grandkids from next door are out on their razor scooters and bicycles, enjoying the sunshine. It's a perfect day after Christmas....

And it was a perfect Christmas. Perhaps not perfect, but very close. The kids and grandkids were all here. The ones who couldn't be here called yesterday morning. From Italy.

It never ceases to amaze me: a house full of love and laughter, every Christmas. Without fail. The grandkids are growing, and their interests are changing, but the commitment to family and time together is as strong as ever.

No one left early. And no one turned down a meal. Or two.

It was a first, of sorts: the oldest grandchild couldn't be here: he had to work today. Early. And so, he stayed home for Christmas. He's in college now, and having a job is very important. Later on, after college, he'll be back. For Christmas at Grandma's.

And someday, he'll bring his wife and their children.....

Cali

It's Time....

The shopping's done. The gifts are wrapped and under the tree. The meals are planned and the cookies are almost ready.


The house looks beautiful in its holiday wardrobe. The lights, the sounds and the smells just add to the excitement. And company will start arriving tomorrow afternoon.


The rush is over and the work is mostly done. What didn't get done doesn't matter. It's time to let go of the to-do list.


It's too late to worry about what could have been. Or should have been. What's done is done. And what didn't get done? Well, there's always next year.


The time is here to savor the moments, make the memories, and enjoy the holiday.


Merry Christmas, All!


Cali

Christmas Cookies....

I baked cookies today. In a little while, my granddaughter and I will decorate them. And then, it will really be Christmas.


I haven't made sugar cookies for the past three or four years. I guess I was too busy. And, as silly as it sounds, Christmas wasn't the same without them. I guess it's true: when you do something for fifty years, it becomes a habit....


I only have one of my mother's cookie cutters left: a star with scalloped edges. The rest of mine are at least thirty or more years old. I have stars and hearts and a gingerbread boy and girl, an angel, a Christmas tree, a hand, and a reindeer.


The way to “share” sugar cookies is to fill the cookie container with the easy cookies, then put a few sugar cookies on top, for show. They are way too labor-intensive to just hand them out, willy-nilly! What it means is, if you get a sugar cookie or two from me, you are special!


I don't know which is more fun, helping my grandchildren decorate the cookies, or watching people enjoy them.


Every year, on Christmas morning, Dylan's Grandpa Jim comes to pick him up to go celebrate with his family. And every year, Jim looks around furtively.....for the sugar cookies. I've had to apologize to him for the last several years, for not making cookies.

He's in for a pleasant surprise this year!


Merry Christmas, All!


Cali