Category Archives: Memories

2025, cousins, family, grief, Life, Memories, Writing

Our first friends…

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Growing up in a really big family … with lots of cousins… was such a huge blessing for me.

One of the best gifts my parents (and aunts/uncles) could have ever given me…

I might not have realized it as a kid… ha.. not in the midst of sharing my toys or having to compromise on what the play “plans” should be..

But those cousins were my first friends.

At first… because we had no choice. But later we were friends because we had fun together.

When we got together as kids, it wasn’t anything special. It was usually just us kids walking around the woods and enjoying the fun as we found it. But those days are the foundation of my life.

I learned so many friendship lessons through my cousins..

…like how to get past hurt feelings .. or anger… (Because we were definitely going to be spending more time together whether we forgave each other or not)..

… how to stick together and get your story straight (so we ALL told the same story about why one of us was bleeding) …

(… and one of us was USUALLY bleeding…)

BUT at the end of an exhausting day with those first friends?

I couldn’t help but smile… and my heart only stored the good moments and forgot everything else.

Today.. I learned that one of those first friends went home to Heaven… a lot earlier than any of us expected..

… a lot earlier than were prepared for…

My little cousin, Travis (who hasn’t been littler than me for quite some time) … went ahead of me to Heaven…

.. it still feels wrong…

… even as I know it’s true.

As I look back to all those memories together… I find myself remembering his larger-than-life personality as a small child.

He was younger than me by a little bit.. even if he wasn’t shorter than me for very long…

I remember how he always lived life to the fullest. When he was mad… he was fully mad… and when he was upset, he didn’t try to hide it… but THEN when he smiled it lit up his whole face… and when he laughed it filled up the space around him.

And oh how he loved to make people laugh.

As we all grew up… Travis changed a little.. (as we all did) Ha.. I never saw him get mad anymore.. but I would still see him shed a tear as he would tell his stories.. he still tried to make me laugh.. and he was always checking in on people and making sure they felt loved.

Earlier this summer, after my mom passed away, my little cousin stopped by several times during that week to check on us all… just to keep us company.

I am so glad for each and every one of those visits! I was glad then and I’m especially glad now…

He didn’t bring anything with him, and he didn’t make a big deal about coming over… he just came as he was…

… his love for us wasn’t anything fancy…

… it was just … there…

… larger than life… and loving us to his fullest..

So much love that his earthly heart just couldn’t hold it all.

… that love?

… is such a big part of who I am…

2024, family, grief, Life, Memories, mother, Uncategorized, Writing

Her nightgown…

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My mom’s nightgown is still hanging over the end of my bed. I brought it home in June because it popped a seam.. and I promised to fix it because it is her favorite nightgown.

I still have an open shopping list on my phone… things I was going to pick up for her.. including some photos she asked for..

The magazine clipping she cut out for me.. because she thought I would like it.. hangs on my refrigerator…

The blue flower shirt in my closet that she always asked to borrow…

In the garage sits the couch attachment I bought so that my mom could stand up from my couch ..

And then there is the voice mail she left.. that I can’t delete…

Every where I look … there are reminders of her.

It always seems like she is just in the other room… like she will call in another moment.

When I visit my dad.. her tea cups still sit on the counter..

… and it hits me … never again in my Earthly days will I make my mom another cup of chai.

Never again will I joke with her .. asking her if she would like some coffee…

… never again will she stick her tongue out at me and call me a brat…

That is.. not until I see her again in heaven.

But…

… I will also never again see her in pain.. or watch her struggle to walk with a walker.. or see her frustrated because she wants out of her wheelchair.

I will never again see her suffer.

But what I will see?

I will see my mom’s smile when I look into her grandkids’ faces.

I will remember my mom’s happiness whenever I find photos of her on my phone. (And believe me.. I have a “few”..)

I will see my mom in the gatherings we have.. in the circle of chairs around the campfire…

I’ll see her in the sewing lessons I give… in the way I teach family recipes …

I’ll see my mom in every blue car I pass… every bird I see… every butterfly that flits by…

… in every chai I drink..

Today as I carefully stitch my mom’s nightgown…

… because I promised her I would…

… a tear falls for every blessed memory I have that has her in it…

… and I have too many blessings to count.

I am reminded of A.A. Milne’s piece of wisdom.

“How lucky am I to have something that makes saying Good-bye so hard…”

How lucky am I to have so many blessed memories with the woman I called “Mom”.

Even if those memories each bring a tear today… I wouldn’t trade a single memory.

This nightgown may be pretty wet by the time I finish mending it…

… but what a blessed girl I am.

2024, Life, Memories, Parenting, Uncategorized, Writing

Trading places…

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Years and years ago, in a small town in Michigan… not much further north than where I live now… sat a man… in his car… in a school parking lot.

… waiting for his daughter to get out of practice… (one practice or another)…

… just one of his seven kids… but definitely one of his more distractible children..

That daughter would hurry off toward the parking lot after practice.. but she was terrible at telling people she couldn’t help them or stop to talk…

As a result??

That daughter was often late getting to her Dad’s car.

Now that Dad… after working a long day of work… after waiting in his car for practice to get over…

… and after waiting for his daughter to make it to the car.. (and often waiting for more than just one of his kids)…?

That Dad would always greet his daughter with a smile.

A tired smile, at times, but always a smile.

That absent-minded daughter was me…

… and those rides home?

They were some of my best memories. My dad would ask me about my day.. ha… and then listen the rest of the way home as I told him in great detail.

I do not remember a single time of him reprimanding me for being late… I don’t remember a single instance of him asking me to be quiet… and I don’t remember a single time of him saying he was too tired to take me to or from practice.

(Now.. not to say that he never told me he was unable to take me. He was very busy.. and after all, he had six other children and a wife..

No.. there were plenty of times he COULD not give me a ride. But I never remember a time he WOULD not take the time to help us kids.)

At some point in our lives, we start trading places with our parents… Little by little…

Recently, I have started the process of trading places with my dad.

Instead of him waiting patiently for me to be done with practice…?

…it’s me in the waiting room, patiently waiting for word from his minor surgery to be done. …it’s me planning on bringing something to keep me busy while he is in an appointment.

It’s me… doing the patient waiting… and driving.

It isn’t very often right now… just every once in awhile.

But as parents, we are used to doing more for our kids… than we are used to asking for help..

A couple weeks ago, my dad apologized for “needing” rides… for disrupting my schedule, and “inconveniencing” me.

But not one part of me feels inconvenienced by being able to give my dad rides when he needs them.

But… When I explained that it is just a small repayment for all the rides and waiting he did for me and my siblings… ?

… he laughed. He laughed and told me that stage in his life was one of his favorite. He said he simply enjoyed every moment of each ride.

Part of me is so thankful to be able to repay all the rides he gave me… willing to change my schedule the way he always did for me.

But part of me…

… a really big part of me….

.. that part of me is really happy to just be able to ride in the car with my dad for a short period of time.. and once again tell him about my day..

So in this stage of trading places with my dad…?

… During this stage in my life, I plan on taking after my dad and enjoying every moment I have with him.

creative life, Gluten free, Life, Memories, Parenting, Special Needs

Still laughing

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When I was a teen, my sister and I would pick a recipe from one of my mom’s old recipe books.. and we would try to make it..

…substituting ingredients for ones we didn’t have (or didn’t know what they were)…

Who had even heard of lard or “oleo” at 12?

“Baking soda is the same as baking powder.. right?”

Sometimes they turned out…

…sometimes our brothers would laugh as they ate a chocolate lava cake.. that just looked like lava.

But they usually tasted good.

I feel like my childhood was a training ground for cooking gluten free, dairy free, egg free, and less sugar… and we are still laughing 😂

career, creative life, Life, Memories, Parenting, self love, Special Needs, Uncategorized, Writing

Thoughtful Thursday …

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I was talking with a friend the other day and he got me thinking.

We were at a celebration for my parents’ 50th anniversary..

… and he was saying how he made a hard decision for himself as a teen.. and as a result?

… met some really great people.

One of those “people” being my little brother.

… and in a domino effect ?

There he was ((years later)) celebrating along side our family.

A blessing to all of us … because he made a hard decision to make HIS life better.

While I finished cleaning up after the party..

…a party to celebrate two people being married for 50 years.

50 years of marriage.. and decisions… and celebrating… and comforting each other… and compromise…

I could not help but think about how many of those decisions caused the domino effect that led to how we see our family now?

.. and how many times do we NOT make decisions because they are too hard?

How many times did someone not go out on a limb because it was a little too scary?

How would those decisions have changed what we see?

How many decisions did I fail to make…? … that changed how my life looks?

Parenting involves so many decisions.. but parenting kiddos with special needs (medical/educational/ social)??

Those decisions seem so much more …. Weighted.

Knowing that someone else’s life will be affected by the ripples of that decision?

I remember making decisions through tears…

… and I remember NOT making decisions.. with those same tears..

Decisions can be hard…

I remember when we finally decided that understanding history and science weren’t as important as feeling independent…

Making decisions FOR our family …

… and in the process?

We have met some really great people along the way.

But the hardest decisions for me to make are the ones for me…

It’s easy to scrimp and save to spend money on a loved one…

… but for me to ask someone to scrimp and save for me ?

((Gulp))

A few years ago… I started booking events to promote my books.

It was hard..

It costs money to book a spot at an art fair .. or author expo …

.. and it costs time away from family where you have to get someone to cover your responsibilities…

It costs … and it was really hard for me.

But I met a really great group of fellow authors… and fellow literary professionals… that have encouraged me to keep going…

Exactly where I needed to be … when I needed to be there…

What about you?

What are you thoughtful about today?

Are you weighing decisions and their effects?

2021, covid, covid diaries, creative life, Life, Memories, Parenting, self love, Writing

Second chances..

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Second chances have a way of making you thankful for so many things. Even thankful for things you could never see a reason to be thankful for.

While I was sick with Covid this spring, I wasn’t sure if I would survive. There is a tiredness that comes with being extremely ill.. that has a lot to do with oxygen levels being so low.. and struggling for each breath.. and a lot to do with your body being exhausted in its battle. I found myself wondering if my body had enough strength to give the medicine a chance to work.

I was content with whatever decision God had for me… and very thankful that His decision was for me to finish what I started on this Earth.

With each baby step of healing came Second Chances to do things I may never have gotten a chance to do again.

Second chances to do things I love.. like stand outside … or listen to my kids talk and laugh and sing… take more photos… sing while I cleaned…

Second chances to snuggle with my family on the couch and tell them how much they mean to me.

I also got Second chances to be thankful for things I was not thankful for before. Like Dairy-Free/Gluten-free fake cream cheese in jalapeño poppers. Or Gluten-free/Dairy-free Oreos ..

I know.. I know..

WHY would I be thankful for something that sounds so tasteless?

I completely agree.. and I felt the same way…

… before…

.. but after spending a week in the hospital where we struggled to find food on their menu that I could eat?

I was so thankful for a second chance to fall in love with foods that replaced the 49 food allergies/intolerances that I have.

Over the last 6 months?

I have found so many second chances to love my crazy life within the crazies.

But the second chance that I am the most thankful for?

They say that procrastination is the arrogant assumption that God will give you another chance to do a specific task.

I have arrogantly assumed that I would have a tomorrow to do the things I love most.

“I can write later.. I can be me later..”

“Today I am too busy doing what everyone else has asked… tomorrow I will do what I had intended.”

Finishing the books I had started… now I have that second chance.

Sharing the joy I have found through my Faith and my family… now I have a second chance.

Sharing the knowledge I have found through all my research.. now I have a second chance.

Sometimes… in this busy world?

… we put off what means the most to us because we feel the things we “should” do are more important…

…but what is the point of being us.. if we never enjoy who we are..

… what is the point of having gifts… if we never use them..

I’m not saying I’m going to stop throwing a frisbee for my huge puppies… and I’m definitely not going to stop taking care of my kids…

… but I am saying that I am thankful for a second chance to carve out a chunk of the day to ALSO do things important to the core of Julie.

What about you?

If you were lying in the hospital .. concentrating on each breath?

What would you want a second chance to finish?

Now..

How can you fit that into your day?

2021, Autism, covid diaries, creative life, Life, Memories, Parenting, photography, self love, Special Needs, Writing

Collecting leaves…

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This time of year has always been a reflective time for me.

With all the leaves falling and changing colors? I stop to think about the year so far.

Some of the leaves falling are bright colored and fascinating. Others fall already dark and dull.

Some of leaves fall right next to the roots of the tree .. and some travel quite a ways.

Sometimes those leaves can be pretty messy.. and not fun to clean up. But I cannot help but be thankful for the trees anyway.

The bright colored leaves are fun to collect. I’ve often thought about making a collection of them. But then I always toss them back into the wind.

In many way, the memories from this year are like those leaves. Some of them shine with bright colors and bring a smile to my face.

Some of them?

Some are darker moments.. and take a lot more time to process .. They are still part of my year but not the memories I want to dwell on.

But today?

Today, as I watched a brightly shining leaf fall on a dried up dull one…?

I wondered… would that leaf look so bright…?

… if it hadn’t just fallen after the darker one?

As I picked up the bright red leaf…

I remembered the moment I put my feet in the grass for the first time… after I had been too sick and too weak to do so for weeks.

That grass.. that ordinary grass… looked like the most amazing of God’s creations to me .. in that moment.

But would it have looked as amazing to me? If I hadn’t struggled to get down the stairs? If I hadn’t needed to carry an oxygen tank to get that far?

No. The grass would have looked ordinary to me.. without the dull colored leaf to compare it to.

This November, I am going to post my thankful posts. But they may look a little different. I’m going to be thankful 2021 style.

I am going to collect those brightest colored leaves before they blow away… and maybe a few dull colored ones while I am at it.

2021, covid, covid diaries, creative life, Global, Life, Memories, Parenting, photography, Writing

On my Father’s floor..

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When I was a little girl, if I wanted to talk to my dad alone.. I knew I could usually find him in his garage. His garage was well used, so it was a little dirty .. and a little oily… and usually had someone’s car parked in it.

I can still smell it. Like old motor oil combined with the damp… and the smell of the trees blowing in from the open door.

I would walk right in… and sit on the floor of my Dad’s garage.

And I was never more content.

Why was I on the floor?

Because my dad was usually under the car… fixing it… and it was easier to talk to him from down there on the floor.

And talk I did .. from what I remember. But I also remember sitting in silence while he worked.

While I sat there, my dad occasionally asked me to hand him a tool. Sometimes I guessed the tool correctly.. but occasionally he would hold the tool I handed him for a moment… and then ask me for the tool he needed again. That time he would describe it to me.

So patient.

And I’d try again.

Sometimes more than once.

For me.. that memory is what my prayer space feels like.

A garage? …you ask…

Why not the image of a church.. or a sunny meadow…? Or a flower garden?

For me?

While sitting on my dad’s floor… I felt loved, and safe… and heard.

The same way I feel when I pray.

This last year has been a difficult one for me.

So much anger in this world… so much injustice… so much sadness…

… and some of my favorite people getting sick…

I have always told people that I won’t sit and wait for a storm to pass… I’ll find a way to dance in the rain…

… but this last year…?

This year I have found myself sitting on the floor of my Father’s garage..

…talking to God while He works on the world.

I’ve found myself bringing my prayers to Him.. like a child. Bringing my disappointments and sadness …

… sometimes I just sit in silence… letting His love seep into me…

.. and occasionally God asks me to help Him..

.. sometimes I do a good job of guessing what is needed.. but sometimes I need to listen a second .. or even third time before I am success at using my gifts for what He intended.

Especially this year… it feels like it is so hard to use the gifts I have been given.

.. writing..

.. encouraging..

.. all of gifts… left in that tool box ..

But as I sit in the quiet.. on the floor with my Father?

Once again I feel loved and safe and heard..

And His peace fills me..

So that when I pick myself up off that floor…

I am ready to dance in the rain again..

covid diaries, Life, Memories

Losing that covid feeling..

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… that covid moment…

My dad used to tell me, “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.. but you’ll be surprised what you can live through.”

I held onto that thought when I was lying in a hospital .. 5 weeks ago… concentrating on each controlled deep breath…

Controlled… because the instinct to panic and gasp for more air was strong.. but wouldn’t help …

Deep breaths … because keeping my lungs as open as possible would be the difference between a ventilator.. or keep the oxygen “nose leash”…

I will remember that moment for a long time…

… that moment …

… not scared… but respecting the gravity of the illness that I had…

… not panicking… but focusing on each breath in its entirety… like there was nothing else in the world…

… not wanting to leave my kids without a mom yet… but knowing that it was a possibility…

… and trusting… knowing that God had my situation in His hands… in His plans …

… so I thought about that saying my dad would say … I’d be surprised what I could live through… as I felt the ability to breath on my own get smaller and smaller…

And smiled…

That moment was my covid moment.. filled with that Covid feeling … Being so weak in body.. and fading.. but so filled with faith in God’s plan.. and filled with love from my Earthly family… that I took one more deep breath … and then another…

…. and I was able to keep breathing with JUST the help of that oxygen “nose leash”….

Now.. I know you all see me joke about the oxygen “nose leash” as my son affectionately named it.. that’s because laughter is the best medicine…

oxygen “nose leash” mess…

… I won’t lie.. sometimes that “nose leash” is the source of so much frustration.. The puppies get tangled up in it… it gets caught under something … and it pulls my face back.. or at the very least makes me stop in my tracks and fix the “trap”…

… not to mention that I’m limited to 50 feet from my machine… unless I hook up a tank that I have to pull or carry…

… but I’m still so thankful for the “nose leash” .. because the alternative? A ventilator… in the hospital wasn’t as appealing…

… or worse yet .. now that I’m home… if I didn’t have the oxygen.. I wouldn’t be able to walk to the kitchen to get my own coffee … or do any simple activity without getting short of breath.

This Covid thing isn’t limited to breathing though…

It was obvious things.. like coughing up red “junk”… the swollen neck… abdominal swelling .. leg swelling… the horrible headaches… the heart pounding… the massive bloody noses.. the face swelling….

… but I learned later.. there are the “not so obvious” Covid things too… the short term memory issues… the loss of being able to sign my name… learning to walk without a walker again… keeping my blood sugar above 70 … learning how to be less active … how to ask others to do things for me…

… you’d be surprised what you can live through…

Slowly, my family is losing that Covid feeling…

… the worry that mom will go back to the hospital… my son worried to let me out of his sight… my daughter exhausted from being “the mom” to us all… everyone too exhausted to do much beyond eating and surviving…

But I never want to lose all of the Covid feeling… I hope I keep the joy in the little things…

… the love I feel when I remember the things my parents taught me…

… baby steps

… the happiness I get from little notes tucked into much needed food delivered to the hospital…

… the way my cup overflows with the generosity of friends and their front porch drop offs…

… the joy of being able to go home… even with “oxygen nose leashes”…

… being content surrounded by my little family…

… the feel of grass beneath my feet

… the accomplishment of walking to the chicken coop with a portable oxygen leash

… wearing jeans for the first time in a month…

Being able to see the baby steps of healing as blessings during the storm… means the storm didn’t win…

… so for me?

I don’t want to lose all of that Covid feeling…

.. and I will no longer be surprised what I can live through.

Joy is fun Snapchats with my family…
Life, Memories, Writing

The Storyteller…

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Time Capsule … 2011?

Every family has a storyteller.

In my husband’s family.. that person was Grandpa Bennett.

Stories being told of Uncle Loren and Uncle Erwin… two souls that I never met… But the memories would bring out a fond chuckle from Grandpa..

… and a smile from my husband.

Some of my favorite stories were ones he told of my sweet mother-in-law.

How .. as a child… she had prayed for each chicken before he “harvested” them. He would shake his head at the memory.. and joke that they never raised chickens after that.

But more than the stories he told … I loved to see the happiness in his expression.

The joy that shone from his face…

… it took your breath away.

Grandpa

Grandpa Bennett turned 98 this last March.

98 years on this earth.

Can you imagine the changes he witnessed in this world from 1922 .. until 2020? It is no wonder he had so many stories to tell.

World Wars…

Great Depressions…

Computers..

Not all of it was good… it couldn’t have been..

… yet every story I remember him telling? He would tell with a happy chuckle.

…and every person he talked to? He greeted with a smile.

This week, Grandpa Bennett lost the fight with his weak heart… and he went to be with His Lord.

He will be missed by so many.

…by so many…

The next time our family can gather..?

He won’t be sitting at the kitchen table.. He won’t greet everyone by name as we arrive..

… but he will be there.

He will be there in our hearts. Alive in the stories he told us of his childhood… and beyond…

And he will be there alive in his children and all of his grandchildren.

Because the love that Grandpa gave freely grows in his loved ones still.

And when we listen carefully?

We can still hear that joyful laugh!

Thank you Grandpa Bennett for sharing your stories with us…

… and your joy ….

.. and thank you for raising such an amazing daughter.. so that I could have an amazing second mom.

May we all follow in your footsteps…