I Didn't Know, I Just Didn't Know

My grandmother used to say that. And I'm feeling it right now. I didn't know how hard Christmas would be this year. My mama is in the grocery store in the stacks of canned tart cherries, she's in the fudge I will make tomorrow, and she's in Walgreens in the candy and gum aisle. And then there's my dad who I could  knock things around with.  And he's no longer a phone call away. I know having parents into their 90s is a blessing, but I just miss them. And I suspect that the other big losses I had this year in two close friends dying and the loss of sweet Ellie have compounded my somber attitude. And then there's other stuff that is just too pitiful to mention. Heck, yeah, I have a million things to be thankful for.  And my kids and grandkids are the best. Then there's Clark who is really special.  But I can still be a little bummed out at this time of year, right? And did I mention that I miss mom? When Hattie was with us two weeks ago, we talked about her "Mamaw".  She said, " Mimi, heaven is far far away."  Yes it is, Hattie. Yes it is.  

"And hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been
poured out within our hearts through the Holy spirit who was given to us"
Romans 5:5

One of a Kind

Ellie, you're killing me.Your first road trip with us when we picked you up from your foster family was a foreshadow of life with you, our new baby. You never poked your head out of the window like other dogs. You were two years old. What Golden Retriever doesn't like the wind in her face? You stayed in the floorboard from Chattanooga to Montgomery. And you made the car smelly all the way home.  
You wouldn't get near us when we brought you home but stayed in our closet only to come out when we coaxed you with pieces of steak we kept in our pockets. When our neighbors came to welcome you to the street, you were not in the greeting mood. 
You would run off when you could and when we called you, you would look over your shoulder and keep going with that over the top donkey kick of yours. 
 You refused to get into your crate no matter what kind of food we threw in there.  You even convinced me to get in there first to show you it wasn't so bad, but you didn't hold up your end of the bargain. I ended up giving it to our neighbors whose dog knew how to follow commands. 
 I had to literally drag you into obedience school because you would not get out of the car.  We had to have help to get you in the door every time. You did not enjoy school like the other dogs seemed to. But we finished the course and you were at the top of the class. Your only break was when a man with a booming voice interrupted our final exam.  All of our practice paid off even though you didn't seem to want to go like the other dogs. 
When Jetta and Ford would come to get you for a walk with their mom, Kathy, you would run off with them and not pay attention when we pleaded with you to come home.   We hunted you down in the country more times than I can count. You didn't come when Clark whistled or called like the other two dogs.  
You were a Golden Retriever!!  But you would slink into the other room if we threw a ball. You refused to fetch a ball even when I put it in my mouth to show you how retrieving works. And when we went to the huge dog park at Shelby Farms, you would not go in the water after a stick. You would wallow like crazy in the hot and sticky mud on the edge of the lake until you got ear fungus from all the gook in your ears.  You never learned to swim like the other dogs. You just sat on the edge and watched the others frolicking in the water.  
After your first year with us, you began to approach people with a waggy tail and you followed me around like a shadow attached to my heels.You busted into the bathroom while I sat on the toilet. You would peek into the closet to make sure I was in there when I was getting dressed. You alarmed us of oncoming storms long before they arrived by helping yourself to our shower floor. You loved your walks, chasing squirrels, and wallowing---always the wallowing.  Every few feet you would throw yourself onto the ground, kick your feet skyward, and begin to writhe on the grass. I would tell you to wait and hold the leash tight so that you wouldn't wallow in the dirt before we made it to a better place to scratch your back.  Our walks were not like the other dogs'. 
And you know what?  I loved that you were not like other dogs. You made our lives interesting and funny and memorable.  I would not have traded you for any of the other dogs that were predictable and obedient and compliant.  I will always  remember your sweet disposition, your quiet demeanor, your stubborn streak, and your constant attentiveness to me, down to your kisses for me this morning. You were not like the other dogs.  You were perfect.  

The Deepest Privilege

My cute little mama passed away at 91 earlier this week.  And I am crushed. She was not really ill until a week or two before her death, but I could see it coming.  She was tired and lonely and when she would forget an event, a visit with someone or talking with someone on the phone, of course it made her sad. My Mama was a "doer".  I don't think I have ever known anyone who was in constant motion like her. She was a pioneer of multitasking. And when she could no longer "do", she felt like she had no purpose. And it was impossible to pretend with her.  She was on to you in a minute. So I began in the last months to make my visits at the assisted living longer. I spent most afternoons just hanging out and talking.  We discussed everything from mothers-in-law and ex-husbands ( we had that in common) to her days during the Depression.  She would always tell me at the end of the visit how appreciative she was of the time I had spent with her and say her usual " thank you thank you thank you I love you love you love you." She would say she knew I had things to do rather than visit her, and she would thank me over and over---and want to buy me something or do something for me. I bet I will be the same way with my girls if I am ever in that position. You just want to do something and you no longer have the means. And it hurt me to watch. 
My mom was a cute little clown. She would kick up her legs, dance a jig and stop and pat the other residents when we would walk down the hall to get her mail or to go to an activity. The staff loved being around her because she was feisty and complimentary. She was fun to be around . You never knew what she was going to come out with or ask, so sometimes she would catch you off guard or even create an awkward moment.    
When I was a child, I thought she was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen.  She had a flair for fashion and knew how to rock those 50s clothes. I would beg her to let me brush her hair in the evenings, just wanting to get at those silky dark curls. Surely she knew how cute she was.  
And she was also one of the most complicated and frustrating people I have ever known.  She had an unpredictable temper and at the same time was a champion for the underdog. I have gotten phone calls, emails and texts from people she had touched by her just listening to them during a hard time. She had such a mixture of sweetness and vinegar. She loved to do things for everybody putting herself last most of the time. She was a longtime caregiver to her husband for eight years, and also nursed her mother and father, her aunt, and her mother-in-law. She loved attention but shunned it at times.  She was cooperative unless she thought you were not on her side..... then she became impossible. And you just had to keep reassuring her that she was OK just like she was.  
  He strong will served her well most of the time and those of us watching would sometimes just shake our heads, because things were going to be done her way.  Sometimes her strong will was not working for her and intervention was necessary. Then there was trouble. But there was usually a way around her---it just took creativity!
One of my sweetest memories will be when she was in the hospital about three weeks ago and was about to be discharged. This just sums up the kind of impact my mom had on people. We opened the shade to the window in the hall and she would wave and speak to every single person who walked down the hall. When it was time to leave, the nurses came in and told us how they were going to miss her after a week's visit....that she was so much fun and such a joy to treat.  Even the lady who cleaned the room came back to give her a hug.  And my Mama's standard reply was "Bless your heart, honey...bless your heart." 
I will not have the same life I have been leading now that she is gone. These last events were life changing.  I will have more time for myself--something she was always worried about but something that I was fine to give up. She was in my every day. And I was in her leaving this world. She was strong and feisty even in the end.  I told her not to hang on for me but when she was ready she should go.  I didn't want her to continue to struggle because she was worried about leaving me--something she had told me lots of times before. The room was quiet and dark--just the way she liked it--I told her I loved her and she told me she loved me.  
And a few minutes later she was gone. Even though I knew she was dying I was still shocked in a way. Death is hard to acknowledge even when it is right smack in front of you and you know it is coming.  But being there in such a personal moment is worth that terrible final realization of what just happened.  Because loving your mother to the end is the deepest privilege of all.

                                          Loving her granddaughters

Another Man's Treasure

I have been washing dishes and pots and pans for the bulk of the morning.  It was not a chore, but a time travel experience. My mother's house is being sold in the next few days and the appraiser said that there was nothing valuable in the kitchen, but that did not hold true for me. After building that house and living in it for 50 years, my mother is in every room in that house.  I put some kitchen gadgets, pots and pans, and other odd items from the kitchen in a box. The cake pans still had some crusted cake along the edges as Mom could not see as well toward the end of her baking career. Believe me, she would have had that pan sparkling had she known there was even a crumb left. 

 I grabbed a couple of those cake pans that  also doubled for her rolls.  Mom's rolls were infamous--for a lot of reasons. She would take them to friends, doctors, her CPA, families who had experienced a death, and of course, us. She served them often when we were growing up, and then later when we would visit.  She would sprinkle them with brown sugar and cinnamon for breakfast when my girls would come to visit. Sometimes she would use the same recipe for doughnuts and stick them in hot oil. YUM. And they were delicious--most of the time. But sometimes the yeast would have fermented just a bit in the process of rising and they would taste a bit alcoholic--what you want in a drink but not really in bread.  And she would, of course, not know it  (she rarely ate any) and when we refused the second or third helping, it would hurt her feelings. I don't remember anyone ever telling her that they weren't the same wonderful rolls when that happened.  She always had a package or two in her freezer for us to take back home after we had visited her, and I almost always had a package in my freezer ready to pull out for a special occasion. If you tried to turn her down and tell her that you were on a diet, or you weren't eating bread at that time, she would still insist, and you could see the hurt in her eyes if you didn't take a package or two. After all, they were a lot of trouble to make, and she was proud she was able to make them.  And when my mom insisted......well........
I also found the muffin tin in which she baked popovers.  I can still remember looking forward to those on the rare occasion she baked them before school.  When we lived on Ash Street, Don Langley would stop by our breakfast room which faced the sidewalk, and Mom would hand him a popover through the window. I wonder what happened to Don. He made it quite a habit to stop by on his bike on his way to school, and Mom always shared whatever we had with him.  
Mom no longer cooks, but we still talk about her pies, cakes, breads and candy.  She was a Home Economics major (is that even offered anymore?) and was happiest in the kitchen and at the sewing machine. For me, Sister Schubert's will have to do, but I may have to find that popover recipe soon. I want to get it right for my grandkids.

A Labor Day Revisited

 Some people have a hard time with certain holidays,and one of my not-so-great memories happens to fall on Labor Day weekend.

Sixteen years ago on this weekend, my husband of 28 years and I moved our younger daughter to Texas A&M for her freshman year. I was sad knowing that our last chick had left the roost, but little did I know that my life would change a lot more.  I was about to have an empty nest.  In a big way.  

I knew my marriage was not special, nor was it particularly good.  And I knew I was not cherished or even enjoyed as a spouse.  I was also suspicious of my husband's fidelity and had confronted him, but he would blow me off and would not engage in a conversation.  So I plodded along, running interference for him with parenting two teenagers and in his absence for high school end of the year activities. 
Anyway, after we returned home from the college move-in, he told me we needed to talk, and proceeded to tell me that I was going in one direction and he was going in another ....what exactly does that mean?? He said he did not want a divorce but he needed to go live somewhere else for a while to sort things out. That makes perfect sense, right?  And here's the kicker: he gave me no phone number or address where I could contact him. Twenty eight years and I get a pager number.  And when he walked out, of course, I knew it was over. So, after throwing up several times because that is what I do when I am extremely upset and/or frightened, I got to work on what I thought I needed to do to prepare for a divorce--something I never ever thought I would do.  And something I was afraid to do especially with my family history.  If I hadn't had my close friends and family supporting me, feeding me, praying for me, and putting me to bed after pity parties involving alcohol, I would not have gotten through it.  It seemed that in the midst of one of the worst times of my life, I was the beneficiary of some of the best love and benevolence ever.  But outside of your really close friends, people just don't know what to do with you when your marriage fails.  Divorce is like a death without the casseroles and the funeral.  My family as I knew it had dissolved, and I was humiliated and embarrassed.  And very sad.  I think we have an idea as to what our later years will look like when our kids leave, and this was not what I had pictured at all.  I was so self conscious, I would hide in the grocery store when I saw someone I knew.  Most people just did not know what to say or do because  they were uncomfortable with hearing gossip and then seeing me.   And I was feeling judged because I was judging myself-- if I was the right kind of person and had been a good wife, my marriage would not have been falling apart. That's what I thought, and that's what I carried with me. And I infused resentment, hurt, discouragement and confusion along with the feelings of inferiority. So basically I was a mess. And I stayed a mess for a while. 
Coming out of the dark, I learned a lot of things about myself which explained some of the choices I made when I was younger.  And I learned that letting go of something that is not healthy is hard but it allows you to develop and nurture a better you. So, when Labor Day arrives every year, I am reminded of another life, one that was not all bad, but one that needed change--for the better.

In Praise of Forgiveness

In 1963 in my small town, nobody I knew had parents who divorced.  Mine did. It was messy, public, and humiliating to a 13 year old who had no idea about family dynamics, personalities in a marriage, and changes of heart.  I just knew that my dad left. I felt abandoned and I felt shame.  It was a tough time, and in those days, nobody talked about it---there were no divorce seminars for parents and no counseling for kids.  I cried. A lot.  And it affected me in ways I didn't even realize until much later.  Visitation with my dad became more and more awkward, and in the end, I just didn't want to see him. He was busy and had a new life, and I didn't really fit into that scene.

For many years, I barely spoke to him. And he didn't seem to mind.  He missed my wedding, the birth of my two daughters, and I missed lots of life with him. I thought I moved on, and I figured he had moved on-----because if you don't communicate, you truly do not know what the other person has in his heart.

Then I had a similar experience in my own marriage which required forgiveness, and I realized I needed to reach out to my dad as well. It didn't happen overnight, because when you foster that much resentment, it takes a lot of work to unravel the web of bitterness that you have been weaving.

So I decided to write my dad a letter asking for forgiveness and to tell him that I forgave him too.  It was hard to write because my pride wanted to change every sentence to "It's all your fault". And I had talked myself into believing that for so many years, because I kept waiting for him to jump in first.  I remember how I felt when I put it into the mail.  I was self-righteous and proud of myself.  I had done the "right thing".  So I went on with my busy life thinking I would not hear from him but at least I had done what I could.  But that's not what happened at all.  He wrote back and said he would love a relationship with me and that we should meet soon.  Not what I was expecting!  Now the ball was in my court again and I really felt that I had to follow through.  My kids were watching, and I felt that God was compelling me to respond.

We met in Memphis, with all of the family in tow, and if you know my dad, you know he will put you at ease in any situation.  For the next 20 years, we did not dwell on the past, but enjoyed each other in the present.  I am so blessed to have taken the step to reconcile with my dad and to have had him for the bumps in my road when he could be the cheerleader I needed, and I hope I was the same for him. Sometimes people say that they "lost" their loved one when they pass away, but I can't say I lost my dad. Because even in his death yesterday, as I was kneeling beside him, I knew I had found him.

The Results are In!!!

For 4 weeks, I have stayed the course on what I said I would do except for two lemonades and a handful of chocolate chips at Leah's.  The first week was a little hard, but I stayed on the diet (my GI tract was in shock). The second and third weeks, I was at Leah and Paul's but I stayed on the diet.  When I came home, we ate out several times but I stayed on the diet. After four weeks, I don't think I can go back now.  I feel too good, I have more energy than I have in a long time, I have dropped 9 pounds........and ..........wait for it..........My total cholesterol has dropped 100 points!!! That's right, folks, from 320 to a not so scary 220.  My LDL dropped from 235 to 148!!  YAY!! I am super excited and really committed to following this nutrient rich program that is making my arteries smile.  I am going to give a shout-out for Dr. Joel Fuhrman, whose book, EAT TO LIVE, was recommended to me by my son-in-law, Paul, and my daughter, Leah.  The book basically says that if you eat fruits, vegetables, whole grains and beans for 90% of your diet, you can eat other stuff for 10% and you should be good to go.  Well, I decided to skip the 10% and go for it.  And it paid off.  And now that it worked, am I going to go back and eat cheeseburgers now?  NOPE.  I am a believer that you are what you eat.  And it is a life decision, not a "diet".  And anyone can do it.  In the last month I have learned so much about our American diet and how we are so sadly malnourished and how our arteries are sick because of the way we eat. And now that I have lived it and experienced feeling better, I will not go back. I still have some numbers to crunch, my LDL goal is  to get to 100 or less, but I feel that I can do that in the next months ahead, and I love a challenge!  So there you have it folks, a testament to eating healthy and gaining huge benefits with no meds!!! Didn't see this one coming either!!  Anybody want to raise a cup of green tea with me?????

PS I do not find it necessary to use psyllium husk.  The fiber I get from fresh fruits and vegetables and oatmeal is more than enough for a healthy digestive tract.  I guess if you were not eating  a large amount of fruits and veggies,you would need it.