Tag Archives: Memories

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.

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?

Life, Memories

The Story of our pages …

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Life is what happens when you are busy making plans… or so it is told.

Spring time is often a busy time in our household.. and we live by plans…

We plan to do our jobs..

we plans to get our kids to their functions…

We schedule fun in… so we don’t forget to relax…

… and we try to schedule time in to visit family.

But each morning we wake up .. and we turn another page in our stories… … Some pages we get to write… and can be exciting…

…some pages are full of surprises…

… and not all of those surprises are happy ones…

While we were busy writing birthday parties into our pages.. and senior pictures … and book launches….

… life added illness to our pages…

… and sadness…

This week a beloved grandma took ill suddenly… and our family watched and waited to see if she would pull through…

… we turned each page, praying and hoping…

But with the waiting?

Her children and her grandchildren told fond memories of her… my husband recalling all the delicious foods she cooked over the years.

… and laughter…

My husband’s family is full of so much laughter…

Today.. a beautiful lady passed from this world and into the next… but she will still be alive in our memories… and she lives on the pages of our stories.

The page we are on.. today?

It’s a sad one…

…. but because Grandma lived?

….the story of our family’s life is full of pages of happiness, laughter…

Not to mention all that good food..

Thank you for every happy memory Grandma Great!! We loved every minute…

Life, Memories

Memories.. 

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 I grew up a 1/2 mile from my grandparents’ house. An easy walk or ride from my house to theirs..

So is it any wonder that so many of my first memories had them in it?

Most of them were good memories.. at least until that heartbreaking day in fifth grade.. when they loaded up their new 5th wheel and drove to Florida for the winter ..

Even after that LONG winter FINALLY ended..  I collected good memories with them.

As the years passed, the visits became less frequent. I moved to Missouri with my husband (for his job). I became busy with my children… and schedules didn’t always  line up.

… still visits were a treasure ..

The last time I saw my gram, she didn’t recognize me. My aunts warned me ahead of time that it might happen.

But in that moment? That moment that I realized she indeed did NOT recall who I was?

It hurt .. for a moment ..

Then she smiled at me.. and patted my hand..

and I realized..

it didn’t matter if she remembered me..

Why?

Because I remembered her..

I remembered her keeping special toys at her house for us.. A little people’s school and camper..

I remembered how she would always keep fruit around to give us..

how she taught me to eat rhubarb with sugar…

how she loved the color blue, but “hated” her red hair..

How she loved working with her roses and her rhododendrons.. and her fruit trees..

how every card I ever got was simply signed “Gram K”…

I remember how she greeted every LEFT handed person she met.. how she taught us to make her potato salad.. her spending hours with us sewing clothes.. her salt & pepper collection.. and Norman Rockwell plates..

…singing with her.. laughing with her ..

And when I said “good-bye” at the end of that last visit? She smiled and said “I’m so glad I got to meet you.” That same smile that would light up her eyes.

So you see? It isn’t important that my Gram didn’t remember me in the end.. because it wasn’t really about me.

It was about her.. 

..and her legacy that she leaves behind. And as long as I remember her? As long as I continue to retell her stories and sayings?

Then she will continue to live on in our hearts ..

So tell her stories I shall..