Tag Archives: Laughter

Her nightgown…

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.

Still laughing

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 😂

Head in the clouds..

After a long complicated year, I spent the morning taking pictures.

Not carefully aimed photos of kids about to graduate.. not precious photos of new life..

Today was simple.

Anything that caught my eye?

I just focused and shot. The texture of a brick wall.. the shade of the tree… the light through the leaves… the dew on the grass…

Simple moments.. simple tasks…

I was just a girl with a camera.. with her head in the clouds..

What a good thing…

Sweet Nothings…

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young dreams…

I have never been a fan of Romance.. Oh don’t get me wrong, I can watch the 5 hour version of Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy falling in love over and over again. I re-read Love Comes Softly at least twice a year. I yell at the screen right along with my daughter when the heroine of a movie makes the dumbest assumptions and re-routes her life most inconveniently. But in real life.. In MY Life? I really have no place for it.. 

Now I did have crushes and I went on more than a few dates in my teenage years.  But when I was dating, I almost treated the first date like it was an interview.  And I was good.  I could tell by the end of that date if I could ever see myself marrying the guy.. if not.. we didn’t go out again.  I never wanted the long courtships or the long phone calls or the flowery words.. and definitely didn’t want the flowers.

And then I met Chad. Oh my sweet romantic husband was SOOO wasted on me. Jewelry.. flowers… sweet cards… romantic dates.. Ha.. In fact, I sat next to him in class for close to a month before I even noticed that he sat NEXT to me EVERY day. It was another couple weeks of talking in class before met outside of class… and then a month of “hanging out” before we went out on our first date. Our first romantic date. I knew I was going to marry him after a month of dating. Yet, my sweet husband still planned the most romantic proposal.. on the pier of Lake Michigan right at sunset.. and he was all dressed up too. He planned every detail.. It would have been so perfect and so Romantic…. But…. I made us run so late that by the time we were on our way, he was SO frustrated at me.. So frustrated in fact that he ended up throwing (gently) my engagement ring at me in his truck.  After he forgave me, he took me to the Pier the next day instead.  And I cried… Great big tears of Joy and LAUGHTER.. because my romantic man kneeled down on a beach FULL of dead fish to proposal.. And he would NOT stand up until I accepted.. which (of course) I did. 

So you are probably wondering… if I didn’t find his romantic side irresistible, what drew me to him? Well he had something else I always melted for.. Laughing and long talks. And Chad had plenty of both. He has the best laugh.. So if you asked me what I liked the most about my husband?  It would be his laugh.. Even when I am really mad and he starts laughing at me?? (Apparently he thinks I am adorable when angry). Yeah… it still melts my heart.

I asked Chad once what was the FIRST thing that he liked about me.. The ONE thing that made him switch his schedule so it matched mine.  The one thing that made him want to sit next to me every day .. The one thing that had him waiting patiently for a month for me to finally notice him?  Then I waited patiently for my romantic-hearted husband to decide on which romantic thing it would be.. And he said, “I guess that you were so sturdy.” Sturdy???  Sturdy to me means like Elephant trunk legs.. like nothing short of gale force winds could knock you over. Now I know that I am not a small boned girl.. I never hoped to be called petite.. but Sturdy?? So as I laugh and say, “Gee thanks..”, he calmly corrected me, “Not sturdy in frame but sturdy in spirit.. That you were so sure of who you were and confident..”. So I guess he thought my personality could survive gale force winds.. I’ll take that.. And I suppose it could be called Romantic. But next time I tell this story to a group of friends? You bet! I will still say “Sturdy? Gee thanks honey, I love you too..” You know why? Because it always makes him laugh! And you know how much I love his laugh.