Wake Up and Smell the Coffee

When I hear the commercials about coffee like 'the best part of waking up is Folger's in your cup' and 'Maxwell House...good to the last drop,' I can really relate.  I do look forward to getting out of bed and having my coffee.  It is a great start to my day, and I honestly cannot imagine getting up and NOT having coffee! 

I am lucky.  Jim wakes up before me 90% of the time and he always makes the coffee.  I love walking into the kitchen and there it is....a pot of coffee waiting for me!  It is truly the best part of waking up.  Jim makes a large pot for just the two of us.  He is a creature of habit and has his 2 mugs of coffee (really one and a half because he usually pours out about half a cup).  I, on the other hand, will finish the pot no matter how much is in there.  I will also finish it even if it has been made for several hours.  I drink my coffee black and the stronger it is, the better.  Coffee that has been sitting in the pot for a long time doesn't scare me!  And I do always drink it to the last drop.

We have been through many coffee pots and coffee makers through 35 years of marriage.  I remember when we first got married we had a percolator.  This percolator wasn't electric, it was an old one that you put on the stove top. It served the purpose, but I remember when Jim's sister, Donna, visited us for the first time she bought us a drip pot. She was, and still is, very kind and thoughtful like that.  We thought we had really moved up in the world!  I remember it was sort of a rusty orange and white coffee maker.  The carafe was squatty and round.  After that coffee maker, we were hooked and we went through several Mr. Coffees, Black and Decker coffee makers, as well as Sunbeam and Melita ones.  Some we liked better than others, but one thing I know for sure...we were never without one!  If ours stopped working, we went to the store that day to get a replacement.

When we were packing Mom up to move to Florida, I got sort of tickled when I realized she had 3 coffee makers.  That is a lot of coffee options for one woman.  She had a traditional 12 cup Mr. Coffee that we had bought her several years ago when we realized it would be nice for her to have a new one.  

About a year ago, Madeline came to Shelby to pick me up.  I had flown in to visit Mom.  Madeline had spent the summer at Duke University for ADF (a dance program).  She had her car, Baxter, with her in Durham.  She drove to Shelby to visit with grandma and get me so that the two of us could drive back to Clearwater together.  She had her car full of all her things from the summer.  She had bought a small 4-cup Mr. Coffee to use in her dorm room at Duke (she has the same 'need' for morning coffee as her mother!)  She really didn't need the little pot any more.  She had a coffee maker at school in Philadelphia and I didn't need it in Clearwater.  Mom was happy to take it because she thought having a small pot made would be more practical for her since she lived alone.  That made pot number two.  

This past Christmas, Bob and Porter gave Mom a wonderful Keurig coffee maker.  This one makes the most sense of all since it makes just one cup at a time.  Mom loves it and it is the only pot she moved to Florida with her.  It is perfect in her kitchen at Stratford Court. I must say I have used it from time to time whenever I go visit Mom.  I love it and wouldn't mind to have one myself for those times when I crave JUST ONE cup of coffee in the middle of the afternoon....long after I have had the last drop from my morning pot of coffee.  

Mom's other two coffee makers were donated to Goodwill.

Stratford Court has coffee available at all time for the residents and their guests.  Mom gets a cup from time to time when she goes down to the lobby.  I know she is thankful for her Keurig coffee maker, though, because there are those times when she doesn't feel like going out of her apartment in search of a cup of coffee.

I always associate coffee with my visits to see Mom in Shelby.  We both agreed that our favorite part of my visits were our morning chats and deep discussions over coffee at her breakfast room table.  We sat there for hours many days.  It was so relaxing for me and it was nice for her to have someone in the house when she woke up.  Mom says she loved waking up to a freshly brewed pot of coffee just waiting for her!  I usually got up before her so I would have the coffee all made.  Now that Mom lives in Florida in her own place, we don't get to have these morning coffee moments any more.......that is, unless we plan a sleepover.  We have one of those coming up very soon while Jim is out of town on a golf trip.  Mom and I have plans to put on our pjs nice and early, pop some popcorn, and watch a good movie...preferably a nice romance or some other "chick flick."  She will sleep over at my house and we will have a morning coffee session the next day!  I look forward to it.

During our coffee time in the mornings, Mom and I talked about anything and everything.  Sometimes we sat in silence for a little while as she read the paper or did a word search puzzle and I worked on a crossword puzzle or read my email on my iPad.  The silence never lasted long, however.  It was such a great time to talk....after a good night's sleep and feeling rested and refreshed.  We would talk about the night or day before.  We talked about our plans for the day.  We talked about friends....old and new.  I think Mom got to 'know' my friends just by all the things I told her about them!  We talked about the past and I know Mom was always amazed at the things I remembered.  I do love to reminisce.  I love remembering the people, places and events of my past.  I have had a good life and talking about it makes me realize it more and more.  Mom and I have laughed and told jokes over coffee at the breakfast room table.  We have also cried and shared our deep feelings of sadness, grief or sorrow.  We talked about Jessie and Martha and Daddy and Aunt Madeline.  I think it is healthy to remember those who are no longer with us on this earth.  Talking and sharing stories about these people is a wonderful way to remember and pay tribute.  Mom and I have talked about my children and what all they are doing or have done or hope to do.  We talked about Porter and remembered funny things about him like his performing country music songs with a make-believe microphone when he was little.  We also talked about what a fine young man he is turning out to be.  Martha and Bob did a good job.  Mom and I have talked about Shelby and Clearwater.  We have talked about our marriages.  We talked about the weather.  We talked about church, religion and the Bible.  It's nice to have someone to talk openly with who shares your feelings about faith.  We talked about politics.  Since it is just the two of us, there are no boundaries about what we can talk about or say.  We never argue or disagree.  Sometimes we feel like we have solved the world's problems.  Or sometimes after our discussions, it seems like there are more problems in the world than we had really cared to think about.  

One time for Valentine's Day I sent Mom a special coffee mug with some other 'goodies.'  She loves this mug and it, too, made it to Florida as one of the chosen ones!  The mug has hearts on it and of course it is pink.  It says:  Take time out of your busy day to take a break with me today!  When you think of me know I'm thinking of you!

I thought it was appropriate since we both have such strong feelings about our morning coffee discussions.  I thought the mug would help her think of me during the times I wasn't there.  Of course, she still had to get up and make her own coffee!

Coffee pots may have been through quite an evolution throughout time, but the bonding created by a good 'coffee session' is changeless.

Wake up and smell the coffee.  Memories are made of this.

                                                                  

A coffee pot for any occasion!

Special coffee mug for special coffee sessions

Seashells

She sells seashells by the seashore.  That is a familiar tongue-twister we all learn as kids.  Although I don't sell seashells by the seashore, I do love shells and the shore.  When Jim sees me working on my shells or making a craft out of them, he walks by and says 'Mary's Shell Shop.'  I guess selling seashells by the seashore isn't all that far-fetched!

I go to the beach as often as I can and when I am there I love to go shelling.  My sister-in-law loves to go shelling even more than I do.  Between us, we have a massive collection of shells.  We have both learned to clean, organize and store our shells by types.  I bought a bunch of plastic boxes and I have mine sorted by type in each of the boxes.  Linda has her containers labeled, and if I am not mistaken, has them stored in alphabetical order!  I haven't gone quite that far.....yet....but my brother-in-law did put a shelf and some cabinets in my garage which is now my "official" Shell Station! 

Shells are great to simply display, as they are really beautiful to look at.  And for those of us who love the beach, it is like bringing a little bit of the shore inside our homes.  Locating just the perfect jar to display a certain type of shell is always a great "find".....almost, but not quite, as thrilling as finding the perfect shells on the beach to put in the jars.  Nice bowls are also a great way to display the shells.

In addition to the sheer enjoyment of looking for the shells on the beach, Linda and I love to make crafts out of our wonderful collections.  We have made everything from Christmas trees, to frames, mirrors, ornaments, boxes, and even bridge tallies!  Crafting with shells has endless possibilities.

My son, Joseph, lives in Tennessee and has always been more fond of the mountains than the beach.  However, the last time he came to visit I took him shelling with me on Honeymoon Island.  I think he got bit by the bug and he realized that is was just like a treasure hunt!  It tickled me to hear him call me over to show me something he had found.  It felt like he was an excited little boy again....not a 32 year old man!  He, being an artist himself, noticed the perfect markings, spirals, and truly the sheer beauty of the shells. 
Not only are the shells beautiful, but I was marveling to Linda, as we were busy making crafts out of our shells, about how amazing it is to realize that all of these different creatures live in the shells out in the ocean.  It really is impressive and just one more reminder of the vastness of God's creations.

Mom never has been one to make arts and crafts, but she spent the day watching Linda and I create lovely refrigerator magnets out of coquina shells.  The magnets look like delicate water lilies and if I must say so myself, they turned out quite nicely.  Mom wasn't interested in making any as she felt she didn't have the patience nor the nimble fingers, but I did give her two to take home.  I think she kept one and gave one to her neighbor.  Mom was fascinated by what we were doing, and it seemed she was genuinely interested in seeing how we spend our "craft days."

This particular craft day brought a lot of laughter to us.  I got out my hot glue gun to make the magnets and I was asking Mom if she could imagine whatever happened to the glue gun I gave Martha for Christmas one year.  I can still see Martha's face as she opened the gift.  At first, I'm not sure she even knew what it was, and then she asked me what in the world made me get that for her!  Obviously, she was not excited about that gift.  I told her that she now had a child who was busy in school and that no mother could get by without a hot glue gun.  I was sure she'd need it to make something Porter might need for school, a party, a play or some other activity he might be involved in.  Again, she laughed and told me I was crazy! 
Porter called me several months later to ask about how to use the glue gun because his mother didn't know how.  There was something he wanted to use it for and so he had to ask me for instructions.  He admitted then that it had never been opened.
I am wondering if that hot glue gun in still in the package....?

I was thinking about the different shells and how Linda and I call them by name all the time and we talk about what we are going to make out of what kind of shell.  I know we use common names for them and not the real scientific names, but I love that we are able to not only distinguish the different shells, but we know how to communicate and call them by name.  We have some "nicknames" for certain shells.  For instance, we call auger shells 'drills,' and we easily throw around names like slippers, jingles, scallops, whelks, conchs, and turbans. 
Coquinas are not very common at Honeymoon Island where I normally go to shell.  However, I remember finding lots of them at Myrtle Beach with Martha.  Linda found the ones we used to make our magnets at her Mom's place in Bradenton.  It sparked an interest in me about the different shells, their names, and how they seem to be indigenous to certain areas. 
Wikipedia says that the Donax species has various common names in different parts of the world.  It is known in Florida under the Spanish word 'coquina.'  It is the common and colorful Donax species of the southern Atlantic and Gulf Shores from Virginia to the Caribbean.  This species in locally abundant on beaches with fine sand.
Even though they aren't terribly common on Honeymoon Island, I am sure I will be keeping my eye out for them now that I have a craft use for them!  They will become another treasure that I can look for.

As I was packing up Mom's house getting ready for the move to Florida, one thing I left behind was a big bowl of seashells that she kept on her kitchen counter.  I am going to get it next time I go back.  I didn't pack it because I didn't know if we really needed to transport a big bowl of shells when I have a garage full!  Had I not forgotten that Martha had collected those shells and put them in the bowl for Mom many years ago, I certainly would have never left them behind.  I want to put that bowl of shells next to a similar big bowl of shells I have in my den on the coffee table.  They can serve as a reminder of Martha.  Martha loved the beach and shells too.  That is one more thing we had in common. 

I have many memories of Martha and the beach.  One of the not-so-pleasant memories was from many, many years ago.  I find it funny now, but at the time I am sure I wasn't laughing!  Our family occasionally vacationed in the Myrtle Beach area in the summer.  One year we rented a place and it had two bedrooms.  Mom and Dad had one bedroom and Martha and I had the other.  Unfortunately, there was only one big bed in the room.  Martha made a huge stink about having to share the bed with me.  She said I wiggled around too much and hogged the covers and she didn't want to sleep with me.  Of course, it hurt my feelings terribly because I idolized my big sister and I did not like that she felt that way.  I would have gladly shared the bed with her.  Well, since we couldn't magically make another bed appear and Martha was intent on making her point, she chose to sleep on the floor instead of sharing the bed with me!  Talk about adding insult to injury.
I am sure we quickly made up, as we never argued or stayed mad at one another.  The next day we had a great time on the beach....probably looking for shells together!

As adults, some of our great late night talks were in Martha's condo at North Myrtle Beach.  We would get the kids to bed and sit out on her balcony and listen to the surf and talk for hours.  One particular time I remember the entire night we discussed the various Broadway plays we had seen....together or on trips we had taken separately.  Theater.  That's one more thing we both loved.  Of course, that could be a whole other long story!
Other late night balcony discussions were about books we had read or wanted to read, the trials and tribulations of raising children, childhood memories of our own, our parents, our friends, recipes and entertaining.  One thing is for sure, we never ran out of things to talk about.  There is something about talking to your sister that is so different than talking to anyone else.  No one shares the same commonality as sisters.  There are things you can talk to your sister about that no one else could possibly understand. 

Martha and I used to love to sit on the beach and read, talk, or sometimes even snooze.  Of course, one of us had to stay awake to keep an eye on the kids!  We loved to go out to eat and shop at Barefoot Landing.  I can remember quite a few meals at Hamburger Joe's.....world's greatest burgers and world's greatest wings!  Good times.  I am going to miss them.  I feel blessed with the memories, though.  I like to remember Martha and me enjoying our moments.  We always did have fun when we were together.

It's interesting that Mom has no interest in the shore, the water, the sun or any of those "beachy" things that Martha and I loved so much.  I was thinking about that as I packed up her house and realized that the bowl of shells was the only thing that even resembled anything coastal!  But it was special that she kept the bowl of shells in her kitchen all those years.  I guess she cherished anything that Martha gave her and liked having them there as a reminder of who gave her the gift.  Mom might like to keep them in her kitchen at Stratford Court for awhile. Not only does Mom have a new appreciation for shells, she would love to have them because they are from Martha.  I have plenty of shells in my house, but not ones that my dear sister collected.  I don't ever want to lose sight of that bowl of shells once it is back in our presence. 

We learn as kids to pick up a conch shell and put it up to our ear so that we can "hear the ocean."  It's hard not to do that now whenever I find one of these shells.  I guess we not only hear the ocean in the shells, but the shells can be so many things to us.  They can be the source of inspiration for a craft project.  They can catch the eye of an artist. They can be the reward for a day of 'treasure hunting' on the beach.  They can serve as decoration for our homes.  They can be a reminder of some really great times spent with special people.  And they can be a symbol for someone who is near and dear to our hearts.

A bowl of shells.  A craft day.  A walk on the beach.  Refrigerator magnets. Shelling with your son.  Showing your mom how to make a craft.
Who would think that so many memories are made of this?




Mom's bowl of shells from Martha



Magnets made from coquina shells



Bowl of shells on my coffee table





Every Moment Counts

Even a stopped clock is right twice a day.  I remember reading that somewhere along the way and it makes me chuckle.  For some of us, being right twice a day might not be such a bad thing!

It is amazing how much our lives revolve around clocks.  We are forever checking our clocks, watches, the time on our smart phones and iPads.  Everything we do is based upon the time of day.  We have deadlines, schedules, appointments, and places to be.  We often base our eating, sleeping and waking upon a certain time of day.  We set alarms and schedule wake-up calls.  Some of our bodies have an amazing built-in alarm clock.  Some of us depend upon a pet who needs to go out or a hungry baby to serve as our alarm clock.

There are as many types of clocks as there are reasons for needing one.  Mom's house had a variety of clocks, but a few stand out as being special and unique for some reason or another.  I brought to my home a really unusual clock that Mom kept on her mantle.  It is an interesting clock and it has often been a conversation piece because of it's unique look.  I love the clock for reasons beyond its uniqueness and am still looking for a great "home" for it in my house.  I had thought of putting it on the center of my mantle like Mom had for so many years, but it just didn't work out logistically.  I am sure in time I will find a special place for this clock.

I asked Mom about this clock and she said it wasn't that old...at least not that old for her.  She had it about 30+ years.  She and Daddy purchased it at Bill Blanton's Jewelry Store on S. Lafayette Street in Shelby.  What I remember about the clock is that it did chime on the hour at one point in time.  It often quit chiming and it often lost time and it never did keep very good time.  More than once my Daddy took the clock in for repair.  I think he took it back to the place of purchase and when they failed to satisfy the repair, he took it to some 'special' clock repair person. It aggravated him to no end that something didn't work correctly. Not working correctly just wasn't part of his "vocabulary."  I can hear him mumbling something like "Dadburnit!  The clock's time isn't right."  I think the clock became a joke because it was simply just a decoration at this point and not a functional item.  I'm not sure Daddy ever accepted that, but as it goes....It is what it is!
The clock is still non-functional, but I don't care.  I could probably take it somewhere to be worked on, but I doubt I ever will.  If it worked perfectly, it might not have the same "feeling" for me.  I just want to be able to look at it and remember my Dad.

Another clock Mom has in her home is an electric wall clock.  It hangs in her laundry room.  It also serves as a real memory-jogger because it is the clock Jim and I bought to hang in the kitchen of our first apartment after we got married!  It was very inexpensive and it looks like an outdated, plastic "cheap" clock.....quite the contrast to the clock on the mantle.  The thing that is so interesting about this lessthantendollarclock is that it still works like a charm!  I guess Time doesn't care about price or beauty.  I left this clock in Mom's laundry room when she moved, but I feel I need to go back and get it.  I will be curious to see how many years this clock can endure....it has already been almost 36!  Perhaps it can be a symbol for things that endure.  It will forever be a reminder of my first home as Mrs. James Fitzpatrick.

Another clock Mom had in her house is now proudly in my living room (even though it doesn't 'match').  It is the ornate porcelain clock from Jessie (see 'Sisters Are Timeless' blog dated 10/25/11).  It, too, is a non-functional ornate clock!  Daddy didn't have to worry about it since it was still Jessie's when he lived on Lynhurst Lane.  The clock was given to me when Jessie sold her house on Peach Street and moved into Sterling House.  Sadly, my Dad had already passed away.  I guess it might be a good thing because two dadburn clocks might have been too much for Joe Porter.

William Faulkner is one of those authors I appreciate.  When I was at Elon I did my Freshman term paper on him and his works. Faulkner wrote:  "Clocks slay time....time is dead as long as it is being clicked off by little wheels;  only when the clock stops does time come to life."  I think a lot of us realize this when we get "lost" in a project or an activity with our friends or family.  Suddenly that clock isn't so important...rather we just savor the moments as they happen.  How often do we say "time flies when we are having fun?"  That really is the same principle.
Clocks are important, but perhaps their importance can simply be in their beauty rather than their functionality.

Clocks are symbolic of time.  Time is precious and what we need to remember about time is how we use it.  We do have a choice about our time and how it is spent.  It really does not matter if the clock is functioning properly.  What matters is that our brains are functioning properly enough to appreciate the time we are given and to use that time wisely.
Using time wisely doesn't necessarily mean that we have to be working or producing or "doing" something every minute.  Using time wisely means that we are not doing things that will cause harm or regret.  I have a wooden plaque hanging on the wall that says "Time you enjoyed wasting is not time wasted."  This quote is credited to T.S. Eliot and embraced by me!

Clocks really are just a unit of measure for us humans who live by statistics, measurements, deadlines and all things practical.  I feel that all we really need to remember about time is so poetically written in Ecclesiastes:  "To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven." 

I'll bet there aren't any clocks in heaven.

Dadburn Clock!

Still Ticking

Beautifully Non-Functional



Bunnies, Churches and Rebirth

Being a teenager in the late 60's and 70's makes me appreciate the phrase "Today is the first day of the rest of your life."  I had a poster with that saying hanging in my room, and I am pretty sure all of my friends either had it scribbled on a notebook, had a sticker with the phrase, put it on a collage, or sent a greeting card that said that at one point or another.  It is a simplistic phrase, yet the meaning rings true and sometimes we need to stop and think about today as being the first day of the rest of our lives.  

Tomorrow is Easter Sunday.  It is a time of rebirth and the feeling that today is the first day of the rest of our lives.  Jesus' Resurrection certainly gives hope for us as we live our lives. It is a chance to have a renewal in our lives; a rebirth.  Knowing that today is the first day of the rest of my life with that added hope for forgiveness and eternal life makes it a realization that life is indeed worth living.

I have had a year of challenges and changes.  I need to stop and remember to start my life again.  It is time to move forward.  It is time for a rebirth.  The dictionary says that rebirth is a noun meaning:  a renewed existence, activity, or growth.  This is not to say that the events of the year need to be forgotten, rather they need to be remembered and incorporated into the "me" who has to move forward and continue to live a life that is full of hope.  Someone once said "that which doesn't kill us makes us stronger."  I guess I should be feeling like Hercules right about now!

The life challenges have led to the changes.  I am forever changed as a person.  My life will never be the same.  But today is the first day of the rest of my life.  A time of rebirth.  One of the most positive changes as a result of the challenges is having Mom live here in Florida now.  I thank God for her every day and I hope the rest of her life will be filled with blessings.  I am trying to find as many ways as I can to enjoy having her here.  I need those memory-building experiences.

I am trying to record a lot of memories by taking the things from Mom's home and considering the memories they evoke.  It has been a great journey and a great way to relive my life.  Every item I touch or see moves me in some way.  These past couple months have really been a journey full of remembrances.  I have looked at things, made decisions about things, packed and unpacked things, decorated Mom's home, my home, and set things aside for each of my children, and some things were given to Porter.  The things have been looked at, touched and talked about more than ever.  I view this as one of the good aspects of moving.  I have learned new things about my family, and I have relived and recalled things about my family. I am happy to be able to share these things. 
Today Mom and I did a lot of talking and sharing and we both agreed that we love our things and we love our homes and always have.  It is not in a materialistic way, rather it is in a sentimental and loving way.  We both have strong feelings about Home Sweet Home.  The things in our homes are there not only as decorative items, but they are there as memory inducers.  Although Mom's home is now much smaller and 700 miles away from the home she remembers, she still has a lot of her things and has made her new home feel like home because of these things. I have also enjoyed the transition of some of Mom's things into my home and soon into my children's homes.  All these changes can really be viewed as simply passing the memories around and giving them a rebirth.

Thinking about Easter, changes, challenges, and moving forward makes me think about my church in Shelby and it makes me think of bunnies.  It's hard to think about Easter without thinking of the cute little bunnies that represent one part of the holiday.  A lot of people see bunnies and rabbits and think of Mom.  She had a collection of rabbits in her home.  Through the years this collection grew and changed.  She had a counter in her kitchen where these rabbits were displayed.  A lot of people gave her more rabbits to add to her collection.  One time Jessie was at Mom's house and made mention that there were too many bunnies in this particular spot.  The next time I visited, I noticed the quickly multiplying rabbits had noticeably been divided!  I found a bunny here and a rabbit there.  Mom moved a few to other spots throughout the house and packed up a couple of boxes of others.

When I was in Shelby helping Mom move, several people wanted something to serve as a remembrance of Mom.  They got to choose a rabbit or two to take home!  That was the only time we were UN-packing boxes.  Now there are rabbits all over Cleveland County (and in Florida) that will forever be a memory for someone of my sweet Mom.

As I move forward remembering that today is the first day of the rest of my life, I remember all the great occasions and events that brought me to this point.  There are more than can be recalled that took place at Central United Methodist Church in Shelby.  Although I attend a wonderful church here in Clearwater, I suppose I will always consider Central the most important church in my life.  Not only is the church beautiful and historic, it is filled with some very wonderful people and some very wonderful memories.  I know Mom feels the same way.  She had  replicas of the church in her home.  Truly the church has served its purpose in helping shape me and my family into the people we are today.  I have said it many times and I said it to my sister on her deathbed, I am so very thankful that I had wonderful parents who took me to a church that taught me about the love and grace of God.  Without that, I am sure I would not have been able to handle the challenges of this past year nor the challenges I have faced throughout my lifetime.

Mom had a decorative plate with a drawing of the church hanging in her kitchen.  I am thinking that perhaps we didn't pack it when we moved her to Florida, but if that is the case, it is still hanging on the wall in her kitchen.  I hope one day I can go back and get it as it is something that I would like to have and display in my home.  It is a lovely reminder of some truly memorable times.

Mom also had a painted cut-out of the church displayed on an easel.  I have one just like it that has been proudly displayed on my counter.  Whoever painted it did a marvelous job.  It is a lovely piece of artwork.  I took the one from Mom's house and wrapped it and packed it in a box for Madeline, along with a few other things I knew she would love and appreciate.  It won't have quite the same impact on her that it has on me, but I know she will understand the importance that it represents. 

Central United Methodist Church is the place where I learned all the wonderful Bible stories that were shared to me as a child.  It is where my parents had me baptized and I in turn had all three of my children baptized there.  It is where I attended MYF (Youth Group) as a teenager.  Not only did we discuss Christian values, we ate hot dogs, made crafts, laughed and sang, went on trips and made friendships that have lasted a lifetime.  It was where I met Steve and Rosa Linda, our leaders, and where I departed on my first motorcycle ride.  Steve had a motorcycle and gave me a ride home from youth group one night on the back of it!  That church is where I made my confirmation, understood the meaning of communion, and sang in both the youth and adult choirs.  I got married in that church and taught Sunday School to Kindergartners with my cousin, Ellen, in that church.  I attended Vacation Bible School every summer as a child and when I lived in Shelby as an adult, I taught Vacation Bible School there.  I attended the funerals of my dear Aunt Madeline, my Daddy, my Uncle Paul, and my sister in that church.  I served as Martha's Matron of Honor when she married Bob in that church.  I was a happy bridesmaid in my cousin, Ellen's wedding at Central.  I led the children out of "big church" before the sermon started and taught them a lesson in the Porter Activity Center.  I sent my daughter to pre-school at Central and my son, Joseph, there to youth group.
The memories of that church, both sad and joyous, are too many to re-count but they will be forever  ingrained in my heart.

Whether it be a porcelain bunny or a painted cut-out of a church, it is important to have some tangible items in a home to spark a memory of a joy, a loss, or a time in life that you don't ever want to forget.  Most importantly, it is inevitable that these items at some point will spark in us a rebirth and an opportunity to realize that today truly is 'the first day of the rest of your life'.




Beautiful Bunnies

Big Bunny
making memories in Sandy's home

Counter of diminishing
rabbit collection

Central United Methodist Church

Remembrances















Things Change

Sitting in an airport waiting to board a plane always provokes interesting thoughts. There are so many people around you who are also traveling. And there are so many reasons for travel. You can often tell what a person's reason for travel is just by looking at them.

"People watching" is a great pastime and the airport is the perfect place for this.  The young girl in her jeans  and sweatshirt with earphones in her ears, eyes glued to smart phone, texting a mile a minute and conveniently avoiding eye contact with anyone is speculatively a student traveling home to visit her family or going back to school after a visit at home.
The neatly dressed, perfectly groomed man with a black carry-on suitcase and a laptop bag is probably on his way to a business meeting.  His nonchalance and lack of interest tell me he has done this countless times before.
The young couple frantically checking diaper bags, strollers, and pulling fruit snacks and juice boxes out of backpacks are all smiles in between the constant, seemingly stressful activity as they look after their young ones....probably on their way to Disney World or to see Grandma and Grandpa in some state far away, sure to delight them as they greet the little ones with big squeezes and tears of joy.

So many people are at the airport, each with a completely different story to tell and reason for their travel.  Yes, "people watching" can entertain and intrigue for the long time between arriving at the airport and actually boarding the plane.

I am sure as I sit here in this airport today no one could guess what my reason for travel is. I am sitting here having a bit of an out of body experience myself. I cannot believe I am on my way to Shelby to help Mom get ready to move to Florida. It is amazing what changes can occur in a person 's life. My whole world changed on June 23, 2011. I know Mom's did too.  We will never be the same.  As the saying goes:  Everything changes and nothing stays the same.  All I can say to this is Amen!

Mom's decision to move to Florida was such a bold and brave decision.  It is just another reason why I admire and look up to her so much.  Not only is mom brave, she is unselfish.  I know that one of her ultimate reasons for this decision was ME.  She did not want to burden me with constant trips to Shelby which resulted in long absences from my husband, my activities, and my responsibilities at home.  I know Mom felt that she would be helping me out in the long run by being so close by.
Whatever prompted her decision is irrelevant at this point.  What is important is that she will be within arm's reach and I plan to not only be there for her when she needs me, but I intend to fill our days with activities and togetherness.  I want to enjoy my time with her and add to my inventory of wonderful memories!

          ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I began writing this at the airport on February 24th as I sat at the St. Pete/Clearwater Airport.  As I finish writing this tonight I am filled with so many thoughts.  Mom is here.  Her place is lovely.  She is settled in.  Her complaints are few and far between.  She is cooperative and pleasant, yet I know her heart aches for Shelby.  How could it not?  I hope I can be all things to her so that she is happy and relieved that she made this momentous decision.  I know that time will prove to us both that this was and is a wonderful thing!

I started this blog (at my friend Sally's prompting) several months ago talking about mom's home, her things and how weird it might be one day to dismantle her home.  It is very hard to believe that the dismantling has already taken place.  This happened much sooner than I ever would have expected.  It was hard work and lots of decisions had to be made, but I believe that Mom has to be smiling about the pleasure many people will have as they enjoy her things.  Not only is her new home lovely, but now my home has made some changes.....I have replaced some things of mine with some things of Mom's......and my things will be passed down to my children.  It's like the circle of life of possessions!  And possessions are not where the importance lies.  The importance is what these possessions represent.  As I see the Mom's coffee table sitting proudly in my den, I just sigh and remember how it looked in Mom's home and I remember when she and Daddy bought it in the Bahamas when I was 16.  I was so enamored with it that my parents promised me then that one day it would be mine.  Seeing the piano in my living room has my life flashing in front of my eyes.  I remember sitting at that very piano 50 years ago!  There is a lot of history in these pieces.

My blog can continue talking about the things in Mom's house and the memories they invoke.  It's just that the actual location of these things has changed.  Porter has Mom's Swarovski crystal proudly displayed in his home.  Madeline has a bedroom set stored in my garage for the time being.  She has often said she wants to re-create that bedroom in her own home one day.  And she'll be able to do that.....all the pictures and accessories, bed linens, etc. came to Clearwater from that bedroom.  Joseph has now proudly displayed the painting of the girl and the llama that Nancy Carter painted in 1963 after returning from Peru.  Joseph always admired that painting at Grandma's house....now it is hanging in his house.  The bronze frog-eating snake that Jimmy wanted is sitting right on top of his dresser!

I hope this generation of recipients will cherish and honor the importance of family heirlooms and what they represent.  The past few weeks have been bittersweet for me.  I have been through every single thing in Mom's home.  I literally left no stone unturned.  I handled each piece of paper and every picture.  My whole life was re-lived in these few weeks (no wonder I am so tired!).  I sorted things into groups for each of the 4 grandchildren.  Porter has all the photos of his mom when she was a cute  pony-tailed, buck-toothed girl.  Joseph, Jimmy and Madeline have a Ziploc bag of photos, old cards and letters they wrote to their grandparents awaiting them.  There will be plenty more stories to tell from all these things...perhaps now with different twists and perspectives.

Yes, everything changes and nothing stays the same.  And memories are made of this.



Looks like home to me!
(Mom's living room at Stratford Court)





Happiness is having a Daughter like you.

Daddy was always good at buying unique gifts for Martha and me.  I always felt that they were special because he thought of the idea, picked the gifts out himself, and surprised us all.  Usually Mom never even knew about them!  Daddy's gifts were extra special because he was also good at keeping secrets.  This is one way I am so much like my daddy.

This surprise gift-giving went way back.  I think Daddy liked to surprise us from the time we were little girls right up until he died.  I remember getting heart-shaped boxes of chocolates on Valentines from my Dad.  He always got us greeting cards for every occasion.  He was also famous for giving money...but not just giving  money.  The gift always had a certain amount and a certain meaning.  He would write a note with the money explaining what it was for!  It made it special that he thought of certain things that he knew we would need or want money for.  He would give us money for gas or stamps....I think that was a hint for us to visit and to write!  When I was in college, he often sent me booklets of stamps.  He loved receiving letters from us, and I think he kept them all.  He was very sentimental.  This is yet another way I am so much like my Dad!

Daddy occasionally bought us a stuffed bunny or chicken for Easter.  Once or twice he brought home Easter dibbies....these were LIVE baby chickens that were dyed in lovely pastel colors like pink or blue. I sometimes got an addition to my collection of little cat figurines.  He'd either buy one for me or give me money to pick one out when we went on a trip.  That was my favorite souvenir to buy for myself.  Truck stops or country restaurants with gift shops attached were great places to find these little cats!  We also got pecan log rolls at these places when we traveled.  Sometimes Daddy got us a piece of jewelry or some candy for various occasions and holidays.  He liked to bring us souvenirs when he returned from business trips.  I'll never forget the can of smog he brought us back from Los Angeles!  He thought that was so funny and unique.  I'll have to admit, he was right.  We got quite a kick out of that souvenir probably more than any I can remember.  The best part was the stories it evoked from my Dad.  Coming from Shelby, seeing LA (complete with its smog) made for some good tales from him!

Daddy also had "rules" about gift giving and receiving.  He was very adamant about not opening gifts before the actual occasion.  At Christmas time if he received a gift in the mail, (which he often did from clients), he insisted they go under the tree to be opened on Christmas morning.  Sometimes gifts had to opened in a certain order or at the same time as another person (this happened a lot when he got something alike for both Martha and me).  He drove us around to visit our friends that we had gifts for on December 23rd....none of this taking it to school or handing it to them any earlier than that!  My Dad was a creature of habit and he liked tradition.  There were just simply certain ways that you did certain things. 

I guess I loved those rules he set because you can ask my children, my husband or my nephew about my rules and instructions.  This proves that many traits and traditions are definitely passed down through the generations.

I still have the gold cross necklace my Daddy gave me on my 16th birthday.  This was another of those gifts that he picked out and no one knew about.  I suppose he felt that was a good time to remind me of my faith because he also gave me a book entitled "Pathways to Faith."  It sits on the table in my guest room/craft room, so I see it every day as a reminder.  It is a lovely book with illustrations of nature and it is printed on special paper.  From time to time I pick it up and open it just to read the inscription Daddy wrote (although I have it memorized, it's nice to see it in his handwriting).  It says:  With Love to 'Double M' on her 16th b'day-The lil' girl whose goodness puts a 'gleam in my eyes' and always makes me proud to be her Daddy.  4/22/72.

I have had that book for almost 40 years, and I intend to keep it for as long as I live.

Daughters are special creatures.  Sometimes people joke about teenage daughters and wanting to strangle them!  I never felt that way about my daughter nor do I think my parents felt that way about me.  I can say, however, that I can understand why SOME parents feel this way!  Regardless of those teenage years, most daughters are a special breed and God knows what He is doing when he blesses families with daughters.

I think daughters and fathers share something that is so special it is almost hard to put into words.  I feel it when I see my husband look at our daughter.  There is truly that gleam in his eye.  My daddy felt that way about his girls.  I don't think he ever regretted not having a son.  If ever I needed to feel loved and special, I just had to sit on my Daddy's lap, go with him to his office, watch tv with him, share a meal with him, or have him walk down the aisle with me at my wedding.  It didn't matter what we were doing, he always made me feel like a beautiful princess.  He was certainly a very happy father of two girls.....no question.

One particular Christmas (I was in high school or college), Daddy gave Martha and me each a porcelain bell with lavendar flowers painted on it.  It has the sentiment "Happiness is Having a Daughter Like You" painted on it.  It is also a music box.  It plays a lovely song, but I don't recognize the tune.  Someone with a better ear for music might know what it is.  I was very touched by this gift because it obviously meant soemthing to my Dad and he was so proud to give them to us.  It didn't really fit in with any of our decor and it might not have been something any of us would have picked out, but I cherished it just the same.  I cherish even more today.

However, this bell is now shared with Madeline.  I gave it to her when she was very little....she probably doesn't even remember getting it.  I am sure she just thinks it's always been somewhere in her room...which it has.  It is still in her bathroom.  It is another of those things that I plan to keep forever.  Who knows, maybe one day Madeline will have a daughter and she will want to put it in her room.  That would be fine with me...the sentiment of the happiness a daughter can bring lives on.  I'd like to think that Daddy chose this gift for me and for Martha because we really did bring happiness to his life.

He was a happy man, so it is nice to think that I played a part in this.  I know that his family meant the world to him.

I try to remember when I give gifts that the meaning behind the gift is so much more important than the gift itself.  This is a lesson well learned from my Dad.

I hope I have left the recipients of my gifts with some sort of special feeling or meaning that can enrich their lives, remind them of their importance, bring a smile to their face, or let them know that they have brought happiness into MY life.

Gifts can be a great way to make memories.

Happiness is having a Daughter like You.

Pathways to Faith

Inscription from Daddy

Bumps, Ditches and Leftovers

Some days you wonder why you even bother to get out of bed.  That is, unless you happen to FALL out of bed....literally.
That is precisely what happened to me recently while I was visiting Mom in Shelby.

I always love to visit Shelby and sleep in the twin bed that has been my bed since I graduated from a crib to a "big girl bed."  Even though I share a king size bed with my husband, I find that little bed to be very comfortable and comforting.  I feel like a little girl again when I am in that bed.  I always sleep well in Shelby.  I guess it's dark and quiet and I don't usually have a big agenda.  I tell Mom I come to Shelby to get caught up on my sleep!

Well, I guess I was slumbering quite hard.  What woke me up was the thud my body made as it hit the ground and my head hit the metal wastebasket!  Imagine how startling it was to be awakened by falling out of bed!  I seriously haven't done that in 50 years.  I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

In spite of my rude awakening, I truly had a lovely day.  Porter and I had a movie date to see "Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close."  It was a fantastic movie, and I love spending time with my nephew. 
Later that day, I went to visit my friend Kathy.  I love to go to her house as it is relaxing and comfortable.  She makes me feel welcomed and 'at home.'  She is a wonderful cook, and my diet never stands a chance at her house!  She invited me (or I might have invited myself) to have dinner with her and her husband.  We had lasagna, bread, salad and a pound cake warm from the oven.  All I can say about that is YUM!

We sat and chatted after dinner for a long time.  We filled each other in on our children, our spouses, jobs, parents, holidays, travels, hobbies, pets and all sorts of things.  We always end up talking about food, cooking and recipes.  That is the best part!
Realizing that I had probably over-stayed my welcome, I decided I'd better leave and go back to Mom's house to try to get a good night's sleep....without falling out of the bed!

I said my goodbyes and thank yous, and proceeded to get into my rental car.  I don't know why, but I have always hated navigating my way back down Kathy's driveway.  I had even considered parking on the road when I arrived and had it not been raining, I probably would have.  As I was leaving, it was quite dark.....I always notice how much darker it gets in Shelby than in Clearwater....seriously.  On top of it all, it was still drizzly and foggy.  I decided to back out VERY slowly and use my side view mirror to navigate.  I knew I couldn't see out any other way.  Upon nearing the bottom of the driveway, I noticed the mailbox looked much too close in the mirror, so I decided to pull forward and straighten up to avoid the mailbox.  Well, imagine my surprise when I smelled burning rubber!  I got out of the car (almost falling) and realized the back tire was hanging over a ditch and the front of the car was in the grass (now mud) and I was stuck!  Had it not been for the flower box built around the mailbox that the edge of the back tire was resting upon, my car would have really been IN the ditch. 
Oh law. 

Embarrassingly, I had to knock on Kathy's door.  Thankfully she was still in the kitchen just turning everything off.  She had to go wake her husband up and have him come out to rescue the damsel in distress. He had a tow rope and hooked my rental car to his truck and towed me out....and this not until the rope snapped and we had to do it a second time!  Fortunately Luke is a good sport and just laughed it off.  However, I'm not sure how excited he'll be to see me again! 

Again, I couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry when Kathy hugged me standing in the middle of the road at 11:15 p.m. on a cold rainy night in Shelby and said, "well, you started your day falling out of bed and ended it getting stuck in a ditch!"
It is amazing what wonderful memories I will have of the time I spent between those two incidences....quality time with my sweet nephew and an evening of conversation with an old friend.  Memories are made of this.

All of this is leading up to something in Mom's house.  This something isn't one of her beautiful antiques or unique pieces of art.  It's contained in Tupperware, foil, and Ziploc bags.  This something is leftovers.  Anyone knowing my mom knows how much leftovers are appreciated and are such an integral part of her home!

Mom swears that eating is one of her favorite past-times, but you'd never know it.  One, she's very thin and doesn't show signs of someone who loves cake, pie and candy.  And two, her kitchen has no food in it!  That's where the leftovers come in.

Everyone knows Mom doesn't enjoy grocery shopping or cooking any more.  I guess at her age she figures she's already done her share.  So, when people in Shelby cook, they happily package up some of the leftovers and take them over to Mom's house.  Safely getting out of the ditch at Kathy's house, I was able to get some leftover lasagna and pound cake as well as some chicken vegetable soup safely over to Mom's house.  Kathy, knowing my mom's love of leftovers (in particular homemade pound cake), loaded her up with some amazing food! 
If anyone in the family goes out to eat and can't finish their meal, we have them put it in one of those trusty Styrofoam containers and we take it to Mom's.  Sometimes we even decorate the tops of them.
It is sort of a standing joke we all use based off of that old commercial, "Give it to Mikey.  Mikey will eat it.  He'll eat anything!"  Substitute "Granny" for Mikey, and you've got it!

I am sure Mom would rather receive packages in Saran Wrap, Styrofoam carry-out boxes, Tupperware and Ziploc bags than those wrapped in shiny paper with fancy bows, in blue boxes from Tiffany's, or red boxes from Macy's.  She always tells us not to get her gifts......unless they are edible!

When we all worry about Mom and ask her what she is planning to eat that day, she always says she can find something in her house.......I guess that's because everyone is kind enough to keep her stocked with leftovers. 
And as Mom would surely say, "I never met a leftover I didn't like!"

Yummy Leftovers!



Soup for the freezer

Nothing better than homemade pound cake!

Leftover Lasagna



Decorated (by Madeline) take-out box