I LOVE MY NEW HAIR-DO!
Girls are always smarter and when you have a daughter that is smart it feels like you as the Mom are smarter too.
Of course it works on the flip side of that too…but that is not the point today! My girl purchased me a new hair-do for Mother’s Day and I must say it was my favorite gift! Sorry to my three sons but let’s just be real….
Girls are always SMARTER!
No more just a fact…..thank you daughter dear! I love you BIG!
Honor our Elders
Though I start with the heading of Honor our Elders knowing that I am putting my life in jeopardy … considering I am speaking in reference to my sister … my OLDER sister (she says in a whisper!). I still have to say that to do this act of grace is a pure pleasure. What may seem to her as a chore for me is in all actuality an honor. This is a girl who carried me around on her hip when I was a baby … endlessly. This is a girl who looked after me day in and day out because that’s what the oldest girl did back then. This is the girl who took my turns at chore time, played with me, and became my best friend.
Best Friends
It seems reasonable that sisters would turn out to be best friends but in families it is a toss-up. It is Russian Roulette whether or not the siblings will even speak to one another after all the growing up is over. The family dynamic is a petri dish of emotions and added dramas that sometimes do not make for friends when all is said and done. I am fortunate that I am the youngest of three girls and both my sisters have been a strong influence in my life. They taught me how to survive as well as flourish. I have never known them to do one thing to harm me or keep me from success. I am very lucky.
Gift of Grace
Although I am lucky and I know it, I also know that this is a gift of grace. It ain’t easy being related. Look around, dysfunction abounds. We have our own measure of that dysfunction but my sister(s) have been a calming effect in the life of a latch key kid. This of course dates me since the 1970’s was the time when this phrase was coined. This was the era when everyone realized that the mothers were back at work and staying there and many, like my Mom, had to work three jobs. Women of divorce were everywhere and so when these older siblings gave of their lives to take care of us snot nosed brats it only can be a work of grace.
Still a girl
The cute thing about this sister ‘o mine is she is yet still a girl … down to her love of KED’S … the sneaker! She LOVES THEM! Always when she is in casual dress she will be wearing them.
Today was the last time for her, this good old girl (self-proclaimed name and great blog title www.goodoldgirl.wordpress.com) to be taken by me to get her last eye poked! She had eye surgery (ouch!) on both eyes to correct cataracts (I told you she was old! hee-hee) and it corrected her vision also. She now has bionic eye balls! (Insert bionic sounds — boingggg!) (Once again, ’70’s trivia … ugh!)
The second one took a bit longer than the first one and I did send a text to my preacherman husband to pray all was well. I got a little psyched out for a minute! When I was allowed to go in to see her, there she sat … totally messed up! (Sooo funny by the way.) Spacey and quizzical … with her ankles crossed, bee-bopping her KED’s like a little girl.
Home Free
Time to take her home, safe and sound but because of her lack of food and Dr. Pepper we ventured to our favorite spot. This place has been here in our home town for forever … at least since late sixties I would guess. Sir Pizza on Main Street was the quintessential hole in the)wall. In the ’70’s it was rehabbed into a lush garden, lattice and greenery with fake flowers stuck all around; porch swings at tables (two of those, good place to get carsick) and ugly carpet. If there is a Hippie in the area he has worked at Sir Pizza!
We all have our forbidden stories about the place, things we don’t tell or we would have to kill you. My first date with my husband was there, in the back booth. He wasn’t from here so I had to break him in right! My sister and I always sit in the same booth, order the same pizza every time, drink out of the BALL Mason jars and enjoy the memories. Today, I realized that if we had come there for the first time today, we wouldn’t have stayed. It is a bit grimy and disgusting but it is our place and it is Home.
Thank you sister, you are a good old girl! I am always honored to be there for you as you have always for me! Especially when pizza is involved!
Today I was on my way home from my Mom’s house, after enjoying the little time with her while she still remembers me, walking her yard and looking at all her many flowers. I have commented before how she is this amazing ‘flower-whisperer’ — and I do wish that was the gift that she had given me — but, NO! I do love them as much as her but the ability to stick a lone seed in the rough dirt and grow an abundance of beautiful flowers … well that gene must have skipped me! Try as I might I only have about a tenth of her success … probably because of the dirt and rain and sun, no help from me!
It is something that causes me to marvel at her ability to get up everyday and do her chores and at eighty-three it is a blessing she still can.
This brings me to the … on the way home part! I pulled up to a stop light in the rural part of two towns that are seemingly conjoined and I spied an old man, sitting in an old school wheel chair out near the road, pulling a pretty good size tree limb as best he could. Backing up, scooting his feet backwards, hauling that dead tree limb across his yard! With each little scoot of his heel in that kind-of-high grass, he pulled with his one good arm, the other looked paralyzed, but with all he could , he was clearing his yard of debris. It seemed impossible for the wheels to turn very well and it made me tired just watching him.
So as I sat there at this
traffic light, in my nice car with air conditioning, a body that is without any known conditions (I am usually holding out hope for a reason for my “out-of-shaped-ness”) (besides the obvious! which is my point) and I am humbled by him. I watched him and he watched me, or I felt like he was … guilt I am sure! He had on dark glasses and what appeared to be not so many teeth and it reminded me of my own dear grandfather.
He suffered a stroke several years before he died and he would not let that get him down. Papa Maxwell was a strong man, lived a hard life but took care of his wife and six (ugh!) kids the best he could. He was my Mom’s Daddy and she loved him more than anyone else, probably even more than us kids if the truth be known. When he suffered his stroke it took a bit for him to get his bearings but it wasn’t long before he was up and going. He had a riding lawnmower that he rode all over his yard and property. He even rode it up and down that old country road … everyone knew to watch for him. He was not going to be that old guy who sat in a chair and died. He was tough and he kept on keeping on until he couldn’t anymore.
Eventually he asked to be Baptized. If I remember correctly, Papa Maxwell never went to church very much .. .or ever. My Granny did, every time the doors were open but I don’t think he did (my family may correct me if needed). But at this point in his life he felt the need to do the thing he knew to do. Makes me wonder if my Granny had ever nagged him about it? Stupid question I guess, she was a wife!
My theology tells me that Baptism isn’t salvation, we must make a conscious decision in our hearts to accept Christ then be born again. Then, as a sign of what has happened on the inside we are baptized as a public confession of our faith.
I never knew if anything ever happened in that order with my papa. I wouldn’t have understood any of it back then anyway and, if he had spoken, it would have been (because of his stroke he couldn’t really speak real words) a cuss word, which he did speak, not one of the big ones, only the same one over and over.
This always cracked me up. Somewhere in my crazy mind I think if I couldn’t speak but a tiny bit, a cuss word would come in handy and I would worry about etiquette later! But, I do know one thing … GOD saw his heart and HE knew what my Papa wanted to do and say in the bowing in reverence through this baptism. And I believe HE honored him in that and my Papa is there with him now.
What does that do to my so-called theology? I don’t know but I believe it anyway!
My Papa worked hard his whole life and was good to every one. He was a fair and just man, not perfect but a good man all the same. SO, when I saw this poor old man today it reminded me first to pray for him, that if he needs help someone will come to his aid. Also, to get up off my keester and make something of my self.
Truth be known, even if someone had stopped to help that old man he probably would have said NO! That’s the way old people are. They don’t make them that way anymore. I am glad that I am old enough to know folks who are that way. I am still humbled by the older generation and the fortitude and character they have. If I could relay this to my own kids I would be a happy momma!
Lord, bless that old man and all senior citizens. They have a right to be crabby — they’ve been pulling us all along for generations!
Growing up in a large family can be at best, the most awesome time of ones life and at the worst, the most awesome time of ones life! I can speak of this first hand since I am the youngest child in a family of five kids. Yes the answer is clear now……the reason why I am what I am….I am the youngest child which makes me….the BABY! The last and bottom rung of the ladder….the bottom step in the stair steps of young uns’ in our family. But, someone had to be the first step…the jumping off point, if you will, to the beginnings of our clan which brings me to my thoughts for this day.
This is the special day that my big brother was born…nine years before me…the leader of the pack! I can not even describe the amount of adoration I have always had for my brother. It was borderline sheer worship at different times in my life…..who could blame me? He is the only son, my only brother and as old as he is in reference to me…that nine years was a huge gap. A gap that has always been more like a “grand canyon-esque” hole and I spent most of my teenage years yearning for his attention. Sadly he wasn’t there….at nineteen he volunteered and entered the Vietnam War.
Needless to say It was very hard to see him leave. Timing is everything. This exodus coincided with the season of change our family was in. My father had left us, high and dry, so to speak, they sold my beloved farm and my Mom, Me and two sisters moved “to town”. Since we lived in the country it was a big deal, at least to me. City schools and city kids and a world of adventure as well as fear.It’s tough on those mean streets!
My brother went through all his basic training and ended up becoming an ARMY helicopter pilot which no one was more prouder than me. But he gave up so much, he was in college, left his home and family but to him he probably chose the lesser of the two worlds. Life was hard for the oldest child back then, this beautiful boy who grew up fishing and hunting as well as being made to work like a mine mule. I think he was living the dream on one hand on our beloved farm but still having to “man up” to my father’s demands.
I was always intrigued by his bedroom and always wanted to sneak in there and see what secrets it held. I was reminded of his room many years later when I opened the door of my eldest sons room and there was an undeniable “boy scent!” It took me straight back to those days of standing at my brother’s door daring myself to enter in……chicken as I was I never did, but that scent of sweaty man boy was the same. Funny how things like that stick in your mind or should I say senses, just like the fact I can’t pick up a book without smelling it. Yep, I am weird! His kingdom was one that I had never trod but I desperately wanted in. The next few years were filled with anticipation and fear. I can not even bear to feel the pain our Mom must have felt knowing her baby was so far away in a War. This is one emotion I never want to feel. Breaks my heart for her but he seemed to take it in stride and had a big adventure….in case anyone ever wondered…he was the one who saved so many people as well as single-handed kept the bad guys at bay. He was/is an American HERO and there has never been any question about that.
When he came back from defending the American Way (Superman wasn’t the only one!) he went and met a girl and got married! About the time I thought he was coming back home…to ME! he gets married!!! Who does she think she is….. this hateful girl…I was not happy about this news and I was in a pout for a good while…even when I went to the wedding, I acted okay but I was mad on the inside. I had lost him for ever! I was never going to really get to know him. Probably a good thing because if I had ever learned of his frailties or human-ness I may have been crushed. In my world he is larger than life. Nobody had a greater big brother than me and if they ever tested that fact I would prove them wrong….I had my list of his bravery! I did get a few bonuses…the time he came home in his Shelby Cobra and he picked me up at high school….boy was that a thrill and I had to be the coolest Oakland High School girl ever! I eventually accepted this chick who stole my brother…..truthfully, I LOVED HER! She was kind and very sweet to me, I couldn’t keep from loving her. A few years later they made me an aunt and I was even more enamored with this beautiful little boy. Then they had another boy and these two were precious.
Later on they were transferred to a base closer to home which was great. I was able to go there to visit, stay the weekend and one time I was invited to go on base to a dance with them. Although I was a little disappointed because none of the guys gave me much attention…someone said it was because I was his sister and the word was…steer clear! So in that case, I wasn’t offended….even though I thought I was pretty cute back then…(ha-ha) it was even better that he was being protective. Ahhhh the best feeling ever! Though I think if my memory serves me I ended up figuring out how to bypass his protection….I was in college for Pete’s sake…a gal’s gotta flirt!
I have always been a little sister and have been blessed with great siblings who never really picked on me, they always nurtured me and looked out for me and my love for them all is BIG. My brother was always kind of mystery which probably was a preview to marrying a man…..seems like they all are a mystery to some extent. I always compared every guy I ever dated to my brother. Sadly my father wasn’t my role model, I loved him but he was absent enough to not be first and foremost. My brother was the perfect Man in my world. Oh the mocking I have endured because of my gushing about my brother. I just take it in stride and proudly laugh because I know he is amazing and I don’t care who I tell.
The years have kept us apart but he was there for me to walk me down the aisle on my most important day. The sweetest part was when I stated, as we were nearly walking in that…” I didn’t want to do all this!” meaning walking in and being stared at (the most embarrassing thing on earth) he quickly responded…”if this isn’t what you want we can go right out the back door!” AWEEE how sweet! “NO” I said, “I want to marry him I just don’t want to be stared at!” I really was bashful way back when!! So after I explained, we were good to go. he held my hand and I was so proud to have him by my side. It was just like I was a fairy princess. My favorite man was taking me to my new favorite man….it doesn’t get much sweeter than that. There have been other times in my life since then that he has been there for me…I have called him to pour out my heart, ask for help and counsel and sometimes just to shoot the breeze. Not that he is a big talker…but he is a good listener…not that he could get a word in edge wise with me anyways!
Distance and time has been the enemy of our relationship as it is for most siblings. We grow up and away, create new lives apart from our childhood, but I cant help but feel like the squirt kid sister when I am with them all at one time. I bow to their pecking order, keep my place and enjoy the placement of my step in this stair step world of brothers and sisters. We know each other in a unique way…we know each others history, real or like-real in our own minds. I know my fantasy life I built around my brother is mostly just that. But it is my memory and I can keep it in my heart just the way I want to.
Happy Birthday Big Brother! I love you and am proud to know you. You have enriched my life more than you will ever know.
Nothin’ better than sittin’ on the front porch watching three of your grown kids throwin’ a frisbee! These lazy peaceful Sundays are what make the other dreary days survivable… Even lessens stress and reminds you that the most simple of times are still the best.
These days when the sun isn’t so hot and the trees are budding leaves; birds are chirpin’ and our lil’ black…..thinks he’s a rotweiller! Dawg trips over his tongue from all the running. I have never seen a dog more interested in the chase than this one and would rather die than get a drink of water.
I am loving’ this tiny moment in time, it is what keeps a family strong. I will never be more thankful than to see my kids be best friends. They have learned the hard way that the four of them are the most trusted compadres and even when they are sworn enemies for the moment( usually boys against girl!)they would defend one another with the fierceness of warriors.
Of course this is usually when in opposition to us…the parents. Not much ever changes in the family dynamic which these days makes me even more thankful for my little piece of the pie. I am the luckiest momma in the world and I know it!
My prayer is they will always love/hate each other more than anyone else and remember no other people know what they all know collectively, the battles fought and the hearts broken; secrets kept as well as lives saved. Siblings are a unique group and it is still odd the differences in them even though the experiences were nearly the same. Ah birth order, you are a fickle fate!
But on this lazy afternoon of Scrabble, Sorry(a game of many screams and defeat!) and now frisbee, life couldn’t get much sweeter!
A beautiful sign of spring is the blooming of apple trees. I have never seen the blooming trees in Washington, D.C. (in person) but I would guess it is a sight to see. I will have to settle for the blooming apple trees at The Apple Barn in Pigeon Forge, TN.
This quaint but impressive orchard has been a family favorite with the “world of all things apple” — apple pie, caramel apples, apple cider, plus a candy kitchen with tons of different kinds, including: dark chocolate almond clusters (my personal favorite) and taffy (my daughters one-and-only want, peppermint!) so need I say more — apple Mecca!
Our visit today was short, our usual on the way out-of-town stop. We never go back home without our treats for the kids. No matter how old they get, it is still expected. But we spoiled them with that one! As a parent, it is comforting to know they still want that small treat. My boys love caramel apples the most, nuts and without or both, they are happy and easy to please.
As time ticks away the kids get older, mature, finally begin to show signs of what awesome people are to come. I knew they would tun out winners. We raised them right, no matter what propaganda they have tried to fabricate! It is their job to try every way in the world to defy us. Kids will be kids ya know. But I see the edge of the rainbow. I see a glimpse of what is to come and it is so much fun!
Just as the apple blossoms return every year, kids eventually get a clue, begin to evolve into the people we know they can be.
Whew!!!
Thanks Lord for allowing me to see the day it happens. Too sweet. Sweet as apple pie!
I am a writer. Yep, I said it. I am taking charge of it, owning it. I am a writer!
I don’t know if anyone wants to be a reader but I still will write. I have another blog also. I wanted to branch out a bit to let my freak out flag fly.
I used to believe all the press that was out there about being a mom … blah, blah, blah! Come visit me in the trenches and I will show you my heart cut open in a gazillion pieces. That is what being a mom is all about!
Of course it has its good days. Someone tell me when they will be. Okay, I know I am sounding pretty down in the dumps about it. Some days yes and some days no. It is what it is. About ME.
I am old and getting gray and overweight and unemployed and still I see hope. Go figure that! I am creative but only selectively, when I get in the mood and all the conditions are right, stars aligned etc, etc. I have a very southern accent, which even my southern kids get frustrated with. Oh well, I would be a failure if they thought I was cool I guess.
I am the wife of one husband and he is my best friend in this world even though I am sure he would question if I even like him most days … more on that later. I am a good friend in a world of friendlessness. It is hard on these mean streets to find a good friend. More on that later too!
I like to paint and read and make collages and doodle and sew all of which I do not do enough. Writing has captured my mind these days.
Ahhhh Grace!
After watching a movie today with son number two, one of his choosing, I was taken aback by the sensitiveness of my son. He is a man now and it is a gift to my soul to be his mom. I am overwhelmed by his great love for me and everyone else, with his awkward peace, patience and wisdom he is a calming influence on us all.
This movie was one about a family situation, a brother and sister and it was very sweet. Many parts of it reminded me of my brood and I would guess he had the same feeling. It’s funny how so many families go through common difficulties. The family dynamic is one that I believe a room full the best brains on earth couldn’t deduce. It is a cosmic cocktail of blood, sweat and tears that only can be sorted out after each person makes peace with the life they have been given.
As parents we try to do it all right yet we leave an unbearable trail of failures ….even the best parents, or so they think, are sure to scar their kids in some way. On the flip side these very kids seem to be taken over by aliens most days too. It’s like a puppy…….the coat isn’t the amount you pay to first get one, it is in the raising! We do a lot of paying or should I say praying to get them out alive! Our babies are beautiful and about the time you think …..“I am blessed by God to be a parent and it turns out I am really gifted at it, I am so joyful and now fulfilled…” WHAMO, right in the kisser! These once little princes and princesses have been taken over by demonic forces to the likes no one has ever seen before.
Now where did my precious angels go?
Nowhere! They are still there, trudging along trying to get it all figured out too. Poor kids, life ain’t easy and as the lady in this movie stated…”he(her eight year old son) is going to figure out people suck soon enough! I don’t need you (her brother) around to enlighten him! ……That is the truth. We all have to figure it out as it comes…the kids do and we parents do and as hard as it is to not protect them, we have to let go and let God, as corny as that is.
He loves them more than we do.
As I think about my own princes and princess I am reminded of all the stupid decisions I have made, that no doubt they wanted to climb under the bed and hide about. Kids are people too and it is just as hard for them to get their minds wrapped around life. This is why grace is so important, it is the glue that keeps families together and it is the most powerful ingredient in the faith, hope and love mixture…it is the glue! No matter what kids….you can count on me! Ahhhh Grace!
p.s.
this movie does have too much bad language…just saying!
Just now, I was given the best description for what I have been feeling — mom angst! This is why God gives us sisters to give us good ideas. I believe that perfectly says it all.
I read a fellow blogger this afternoon and was saddened by her story of the horrible loss of her baby within just a few short days of life and I commented to her to forgive my rants about my children. I would never want to be thought of as not being appreciative of my healthy children. I know how blessed I am and I could not ever know the heartbreak of such a loss. What I do experience is just that — angst!
See definition!
angst/aNG(k)st/ Noun. A feeling of deep anxiety or dread, typically an unfocused one about the human condition or the state of the world in general. A feeling of persistent worry about something trivial.
Boy oh boy does that have me pegged!
Funny how when you look up the definition of a word you become more aware of how silly you are. A feeling of persistent worry about something trivial!!!!!
Hello I am a mother and I have angst!
I think there should be a support group for this one. Can’t call it AA , that one has already taken, so maybe MAA-Mothers Angst Anonymous!! The only problem is the anonymous part Cripes!
I am positive my younguns’ would prefer me to leave them be and I blame them because they need to use the good sense they have and they blame me for protecting them to much. An endless circle of angst! But angst it is!
Makes you realize why God tells us not to worry and it is actually a sin. I am painting myself in a corner here once again. Yep, one more thing to fuel my angst addiction!
Ahhhh grace!
Is it by the great wealth that he managed to accumulate or the land or homes or vehicles?
Is it by his position in business or his standing in the community?
The only way any man can be measured is by the fruit of his labor, the life he has lived on this earth and the lives that were changed by his love and the only real definition of success is how he was loved. This world is filled with complaints and negative thoughts that ride on the back of negative people. You can’t throw a rock without hitting someone who is complaining about something, no matter how trivial, we continue to be bothered and letting anyone who may be in our path know of our great plight in life.
I must admit I am the first whiner that I can think of. Honestly, I get sick of my own self, some days. I spend precious moments attempting to figure out why the world seems to pick on little old me! Good grief! Get over it! Come to find out, as I have grown very much older and wiser (well, the jury is still out on that one) It’s not all about me….as hard to believe as that is, I am not the center of the universe. How’d that happen? I never got the memo….was there a meeting, was there a quorum?
Did we vote? Yep they voted and I lost…..shocking how that happens.
Well actually not so much, I humbly say I have always known it wasn’t all about me. I am thankful I wasn’t given that burden to carry by my parents. But I know now that it is all about one person, that was on this earth for only thirty three short years, who gave it all so that we might have life everlasting and I have watched that same sacrifice and humility play out in the life of a man who without any fan fair or parade, lived everyday like it was his last. I have never known anyone that lived so completely complain free, even when he struggled for every breath in his last days on this earth. He would always have a smile and a kind word for anyone he met. He encouraged every person he knew and on those few occasions when I dared to be a complainer in front of him, he would say…..”ahh Rosa (he called me that from the first time I met him!)the Lord will help you, just stay close to him. Augh!
Why did he always have to hit me with that one, seriously!! does it always go back to that? can I not have five minutes of feeling sorry for myself. Does he even remember that I am married to his son and gave him four( I outta get the prize) grandkids and am a preachers wife and and…and….NOPE!
Stopped in my tracks with the harsh reality of Jesus suffering an awful punishment just so I can stand here and whine about, in my overly dramatic fashion, my bad day. This man who never complains about anything…ever… stands there and basically strips me down to myself and reminds me …it’s not the end of the world.
This guy I speak of is probably the sweetest and kindest gentleman anyone who reads this would ever know. Thirty years ago, I met a boy who had a father who from the first time I met him, made me one of his own. Without any question or judgement or hesitation, he welcomed me into his family and gave me a name. I was a part of him and not one time did I ever NOT feel accepted by him. I was never an “in-law”, I was a daughter and isn’t that just like Jesus.
This man is Curtis Fritts and he breathed his last breath holding the hand of his beloved wife and his one and only grand daughter, Bethany….his son and my only precious daughter. I know she will never forget the honor of being there with him, she saw the best man in this world enter into his reward for a life lived fully and without any reservation for where he was going.
As he took that last breath, he left behind all the pain of this world….not that we ever heard him complain about it!
Thank you Dad for loving us all. There is your measuring stick…..they will know HIM by our great love. Amen!
Posted by Rosemary Mcknight Fritts at 2:38 AM
preacherswifeintheknow 