My Best Friend and Me

I have so many fun memories of Halloween.  When I was a kid (in the dark ages) our parents just let us go out on our own.  It was a time of innocence. 

Parents didn't worry about perverts, drive bys, or kidnappings.  They were unheard of.  Neighbors watched out for each other.

This was my favorite night because I could go out with my friends and I didn't even have to have my older brother along to spoil the fun.  I was free!!

My best little friend and I would plan, giggle, prepare, giggle, and finally come up with our costume to be presented runway style for our moms.  Then we'd giggle some more.

One particular Halloween, we decided we were going to be a two headed monster.  We were both built like little stick figures, so we got a pair of pants and a shirt from a man that was quite hefty.  I got in one leg, she in the other and zip.  I put one arm in the shirt sleeve, she put one arm in the other and buttoned up. 

The only difficulty was that this was back when men's pant legs were pegged, which means they were very small at the bottom.  So we had two feet popped out of each pant leg that was basically a tourniquet around our ankles.  Not only did we have to get the geisha girl walk down, but we had to coordinate our tiny steps while hugging each other with one arm.  Besides wobbling down the road with our heads banging together, we did pretty good.  Shuffle....shuffle....giggle....bang. 

After staggering and giggling our way through the little community, we started down the scary part of road between her house and mine.  There were some rock cliffs along one side and it had tiny little holes or caves in the cliffs.  Her dad always enjoyed telling us that Indians were buried in those holes and that sometimes at night they would come out.

Well, for two little girls, this was cause for imagination, fear, and of course, giggles.  As we were beginning that spooky stretch of road, we heard someone behind us.  After cracking our heads together several times we were to get a glimpse of a boy behind us.  Not just any boy, but the boy that greased his hair back, wore a white t-shirt with a pack of Marlboro's rolled up in one sleeve, and a black leather jacket on over that.  Yep, he must be dangerous.  We had our own community Fonz. 


Once we were able to keep our heads from knocking together and get turned back around, we got our shuffle into double time.  We may have made sparks, I don't know, but for some reason fear with little girls brings on fits of whisper giggling.  We were whisper giggling uncontrollably and setting off sparks as we shuffled on down the road.

As he got closer and closer I'm not sure our feet were even touching the ground at this point, but he came right up behind us AND..........just walked around us. 

Well, that was pretty anticlimactic.  So, we just shuffled our way around the rest of the neighborhood, got our pillowcases full of candy, went to her house, ate our candy and spent the rest of the evening giggling and enjoying our sugar high.

Memory. It's a Wonderful Thing.

Oh, the joys of getting older.  Isn't it something how that just sitting can cause discomfort.  I look at my little granddaughters and see them sitting with their little legs all twisted and backwards, and I sadly think, "I used to be able to do that."

There's hardly ever a "good night's sleep" anymore.  Sneezing, coughing and even laughing too hard can cause....well, we'll not go there.  Things sag, droop, pop and crack.  Upper arms continue to wave long after the hand stops.  And you find fifty different kinds of moisturizers and wrinkle creams in your bathroom cabinet.

And then there's that memory thing............

What was I saying?

Anyway, yesterday was a fun day filled with memory lapses and moments of complete confusion.  It was my son's birthday so we were all going to meet in town and have a nice dinner out.  All the kids and grandkids were going to be there and we were just going to enjoy the evening.

My husband and I decided to meet so he wouldn't have to drive all the way home, so he parked his car at the Park n Ride several miles from my house, called me to meet him and I was on my way.  After going down the road, I realized I had forgotten my son's birthday gift at home.

Turn around.  Drive back home.  Get gift.....well, get gift after running through the house trying to figure out where I had put it.  Drive back down road.  Go to Park N Ride.  Pick up husband.

Whew.  We're on our way.

We had a really good dinner with lots of laughter, good food, babies playing and opening gifts.  After we all went outside, hugged everyone, looked at the moon with the babies and sang, "Oh Mister Moon", we said goodbye and were on our way home.

On the way home, I was asking my husband to look at something or read something (I don't know....I forget) anyway, he needed to use his eyes. He began to look for his glasses.  In his pants pockets?  Not there.  In shirt pocket?  Nope.  In my purse?  Nada.

Stop the car!  Turn around.  We called the restaurant but they said they didn't find them.  We told them we would come back anyway and look for them because maybe he had dropped them in the parking lot.  So, we're on our way back and I ask him to reach something in the backseat.  Again, I don't remember what it was, but evidently it was important enough for me to pull over because he couldn't reach whatever it was.

I stop, he gets out of the car, looks down and picks up glasses out of the floor.  Well, how about that.  So now we're on our way home....again.

We're in deep discussion about something.  Again, I don't remember what, but we were engrossed.  We drive up the driveway, pull into the garage, get out and realize.....we left his car at the Park N Ride.

Oh well.  We're happy.

Lord, Help Us All

The past few days I've been in kind of a melancholy frame of mind.  There's so much turmoil going on right now in our nation that has friends barking and snapping at each other because their views are different. 

Divorce is rampant.  Families are feuding.  Children hate their parents.  Moms and dads  just walk off and leave their kids, never looking back.  People hating the religious, and many religions hating people. Different races at war, and wars going on all over the planet.  People screaming tolerance, yet not tolerant of anyone that disagrees with them.  Road rage...school rage....violent rage.

What in the world?  What has happened to us?  Where are we headed?

Looking back, I can remember my grandfather, Papa, never learning to drive.  He walked everywhere he went and when seen walking, sometimes someone would stop and see if he needed a ride.  That was a time when kindness was the motive.  It was great living in that kind of society. 

My brother and I would ride our bikes or  skateboards all over our neighborhood in Knoxville.  People watched out for each other, and honestly cared about each other.  It was a fun, carefree time.

I'm not naïve enough to think that bad things didn't happen back then, I absolutely know it did, but it wasn't the norm.  People were genuinely surprised to hear about acts of hatred and violence.  It was the exception to hear of hatred, violence, murder, and abuse.  Today, it's become so normal that we hardly even take notice of such acts.

I've tried to figure it out and the only thing that makes sense to me is control.  We've become so self serving and self engrossed that anything that dares to disturb our self absorption becomes the object of our tirades.

That guy that pulled out in front of us made us angry.  Why?  We couldn't control his driving.  We couldn't control him, we couldn't make him wait until we had passed by.

That person that we just had a fight with because they don't vote the same way we do, or have the same religious views.  We get angry because we can't control their thinking.  We can't make them see things the way we do.

Those poor, deluded children who think they have the right to go into school and kill other students because they couldn't control what their peers thought of them. 

That husband, wife, friend, or family member that we just argued with, that we've talked about, that we may have even gotten violent with, is the object of our anger because of our inability to control what we think they should say, how they should act, what they should do.

I wonder why we all  have gotten to that point that we think a person should suffer our wrath just because they didn't do as we expected.  We  don't stop to think that maybe we're wrong, maybe we judged too harshly, or maybe we don't have a clue what that person is dealing with.  And then we
act surprised because there are repercussions for our outbursts.  We're surprised that our blood pressure is out of hand.  We're surprised that we are plagued with headaches and illnesses.  We're surprised when friends walk out of our lives.  We're surprised when we're overloaded with guilt and depression.

Who wins?  Who walks away unscathed?  No one.  We can never unsay a word.  We can never undo a deed.  We can never make someone unhear  or unsee something. 

Lord help us all....me especially, that I use control to sensor me, that I may guard my words and my actions, that I may try to emulate Christ's example of what I should be, that I may "do unto others" only those things that God would be pleased with.  I want to be that person that is understanding....that person that loves....that person that is kind.


Ephesians 4:29  Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth, but that which is good to the edifying, that it may minister grace unto the hearers.

Ephesians 4:32  And be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another even as God for Christ's sake has forgiven you.

Way To Go!!!

How awesome is this kid!  My thirteen year old, autistic, ADHD diagnosed grandson ran in a cross country event yesterday for his team.

Our Zach has had quite a struggle his young life.  He has impulses and uncontrolled behaviours that most of us don't understand.  He doesn't understand them either.  After a particular violent episode a few years ago, he was sitting calmly and asked, "Grammy, what's wrong with me?"

Most people think, "just spank his behind" or "put him in a corner for timeout" and that will take care of the problem.  That's because so many of us have no idea what autism is much less how to deal with it.  Even the "professionals" are at a loss and just try hit and miss strategies.

But in spite of having to spend almost two years in a home for autistic kids, away from his family, going to a different school and trying to learn new behaviours, coming back home and being thrown into, yet, another new school, he's coping.

Now, Zach is in middle school, competing on the track team and making friends.  And, can I say at this point, that not all teenagers out there are selfish, mean, drug induced zombies.  As a matter of fact, that depiction is such a small minority of the kids at Zach's school, it's not even worth mentioning.  These kids have opened their minds to autism, have opened their arms to a fellow team mate, and opened their hearts to his friendship.

Yesterday, I watched as Zach ran and laughed with his friends.  I saw him spend time with other people and not just cling on to his mom.  As he ran across the field with a couple of his buddies getting ready for their event, I yelled to him, "I WANT TO SEE YOU PASS EVERYONE, BUDDY!"  He turned to me and a smile split his face and he yelled back, "I will!"

You see, Zach has such a tender heart that he doesn't want to pass his friends.  He'll hang back and not get a reward just so he doesn't beat his pals. 

When I heard the cannon boom, I knew Zach would be rounding the corner to where I was waiting.  I was standing there in anticipation, stretching my neck, looking for our Zach.  He was looking for me, too, and I think we spotted each other at the same time and he had a grin that went all the way around his head.  He was beaming as he heard me yelling and cheering for him.  As he went by me with that face splitting grin, I was choked up.  Yep.  There I stood among cheering parents and friends, crying.  I was crying for all the hard times, all the heart aches, all the struggles just washed away because he was one of them.  He was a team mate.  He was a fellow teenager.  He was a friend.  AND, he was in the lead!!

Since it was a two mile run, there was time for me to walk up to the finish line and wait.  A few boys ran by and I kept thinking that maybe he was just not up to it,  or maybe he quit because it was such a long way, but then I saw him.  I saw him coming up over the hill toward the line.  He wasn't grinning now, he was sweating...profusely, but he was running!  He didn't quit!  He was giving it every thing he had!

Our Zach came in EIGTH out of six different middle schools!  Woohoo!!!!  Way to go buddy!!

When he came over to where his mom and I were standing after finishing, he asked his mom if they could go get something to eat.  Typical teenage boy.  I gave him some money to make sure he could go get a hotdog or something after the meet.  He stood there and counted it.  Typical teenage boy.

Going Home

Going home.  I don't know what it is about going home that gets us so excited.  I can remember, as a young child, how we went to Grandma's and Papa's house on Sundays.  My brother and I would get hyped up and energetic because there would be dozens of cousins there as hyped up and energetic as we were. 

We would run through the kitchen, grab one of Grandma's everpresent biscuits off the stove,  run out the back with a bang of the screen door and head straight to Papa's barn where we'd play in the loft until dinner time.  My teenage sister would be looking forward to going off and sitting with other teenage cousins, whispering, giggling and talking about all the things teenagers talk about.

Going home.  Now my house is the place that the family goes home to.  My sons sit in the living room watching ballgames on tv, laughing at each other and , generally, just enjoying each other's company.  My husband is going back and forth between the living room and the kitchen taking it all in while helping me prepare a meal.  Now, I have daughters in law sitting around the table with my daughter enjoying lots of high voiced laughter and conversation as they chop and  peel vegetables.  And through all this confusion, we now have toddlers bobbling through the house with shrieks of excitement and a trail of cookie crumbs behind them.  The only thing that makes it better is when we have sisters, brothers, nephews and nieces sharing in all the fun.  Ahh....the noise....the chaos....the fun of it all.

Going home.  The one that we, as Christians, look forward to is our final home.  Heaven.  I can't comprehend the event.  I can't even begin to comprehend the reunions, the sights, the Saviour.  I can't imagine the emotions of seeing those little children that parents have lost before they could even hold them.  I can't imagine holding the hands of grandparents that held us as a child.   I can't imagine holding and hugging those brothers and sisters that we have longed to see again.  I can't imagine looking into the eyes of parents that looked on us for the first time.  I can't imagine the sights, the beauty, the complete joy.  I can't imagine seeing the Saviour that loved me before I was formed, that loved me through all my ugliness and sin, that loved me enough to spread his arms in complete surrender to all the brutalities placed on him so that, one day, I could .... go home.

I Corinthians 2:9  But as it is written, Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man the things which God hath prepared for them that love him. 
 

My Sister's Love Letter to Me

My sister passed away yesterday in her sleep. These are the hardest words I have ever written or said.

My sister has been the one constant thing in my life. You see, there are sisters that love each other, but  may go weeks without talking. They love each other but go months without seeing each other.   This is not the case with my sister and me.

 We have always been a part of each other's lives....births, parties, holidays, graduations, showers, vacations...always together, always there for each other.  Even though we've lived hundreds of miles apart, we made a way.

More than fifteen years ago, I wrote a small book of memories of my sister and me. I gave it to her for Christmas to keep, to reminisce, to encourage. Today, one day after her death, her youngest son, gave me back the book. He said they had gotten it out a while back and read through it together and that she wanted me to have it back if she passed.

So, I began to read through some of the pages and I came upon the one that spoke of the day she got married so many years ago, when I was still just a young girl of about 8 or 9.....

"After the wedding day, we all went back to our house at Woodlawn. You had to finish picking up your things. You had an old pillow that I loved and you were taking it with you. I was teasing and playing, holding onto the pillow, saying you couldn't take it, trying to keep the tears back by covering up with giggles. Your 'newly acquired husband' scolded me about it and told me to quit.

Little did he know, it wasn't the pillow I wanted to keep at all--it was my part time mom, my sister, my best friend."

Underneath this story was my sister' handwriting...

"You asked me if I didn't love you as much now. I said I would never stop loving you in a million years. And I won't."

My sister surpassed death, time, and galaxies and left me this love letter just when I needed it most.

ITS A BOY!

The birth of a baby is such an exciting time!

We were privileged to be present at the birth of all our grandbabies, and what a time it was. (Well, for us anyway, maybe not so much for the mothers)

When everyone is sitting in the waiting room....well, waiting, and then, finally, someone comes out and yells "It's a girl! or It's a boy!"  There's pandamonium for a little while.

Wouldn't you just love to have that job?  Being the announcer! The one where you run out and tell the waiting family if it's a girl or a boy.  "Can I go now?  Can I tell them, now?  Is it time?"  I think that would be the neatest job!

I've been thinking alot lately about the event that took place over two thousand years ago and it's still talked about today.  We all have stories about the birth of our children, but when I talk about mine, my boys just roll their eyes and say, "Mom, we've heard this before."

However, the birth that took place in Bethlehem still causes excitement.  It causes arguments.  It changes lives.

The ride to the hospital is always a fun story, too...yelling at road workers that have stopped traffic, to get out of the way, we're coming through; having to get a police to find the husband, who is taking classes, and tell him he's about to become a father...there's always a story, and those are a couple of mine.

But Mary's story isn't filled with fun antics, or fast trips.  It's a story of a woman, who could become a mother at any minute.  It's a story of wearisome travel through mountains and rough terrain on the back of a mule.  It's a story of cold temperatures and sleeping on rough, frozen ground.  It's a heartbreaking story of a woman in labor who can't even find a bed to lay on.

But, then, there's "the announcer." Just imagine the anticipation.  "Can I go now?  Can I tell them now?  When is it time?  Is it time yet?"  "It's time?!"  And then there's lots of ruffling of angel wings, lots of clearing throats and getting ready to sing.

Now, imagine, on a hillside somewhere outside of Bethlehem, sits some young boys.  As was the custom in that time, the youngest of the sons were made to be the shepherds, while the older brothers helped with the tilling of the land, sowing and reaping, building the barns and houses.  So, the youngest held the responsibility of caring for the sheep.

It's so cold outside, they can see their breath as they talk to their sheep and to one another. The air is so crisp that it hurts their skin, so they try to snuggle down into their clothing. They build a fire and then they build a sleeping place surrounding the fire by putting large, oblong stones in a circle and then fill the inside with soft limbs from trees, covered in grasses for bedding.  As they settle down for a long night in the cold, one of them will sit watch over the sheep.  He has his staff that has nails driven in one end to use as a defender of his sheep from predators.  So, he's ready.  He's taken his position on one of the stones for a better view of the sheep and surrounding area while his friends burrough into their warm beds for some rest.

 

As he sits there with thoughts springing through his mind, maybe singing to himself and watching his breath escape into the cold, night air, he thinks he hears something...some sort of stirring...and he prepares himself for protecting his flock. He wakes his friends and tells them to get ready, but before they can even grab their staffs for battle, there's an enormous explosion of light that fills the sky and a being, far too beautiful and far too menacing, stops them in their movements.  They are so afraid, they cannot move, they cannot speak, they cannot think.

This being, this person, this angel that is so frightening, yet so calming, tells them not to fear. And they listen.  They listen as the angel tells them about a birth!  It tells them it's a Boy!  But it's not just any boy, it's their Saviour.

As they're taking all this in, something else is stirring in the sky, some sort of movement and suddenly, behind the announcer, they see a choir!  It has completely filled the sky and the song is like none they've ever heard. And as quickly as it all happened, it was over...just stillness....just stars.
What a night!  What a story!  What a Saviour!

Luke 2:8-17, 20  And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night.  And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid.  And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.  For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.  And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.  And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.  And it came to pass, as the angels were gone away from them into heaven, the shepherds said one to another, Let us now go even unto Bethlehem, and see this thing which is come to pass, which the Lord hath made known unto us.  And they came with haste, and found Mary, and Joseph, and the babe lying in a manger.  And when they had seen it, they made known abroad the saying which was told them concerning this child.  And the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things that they had heard and seen, as it was told unto them.