Birds Of A Feather

My young granddaughter, a Middle School student, just tried out and made cheerleader for this school year. She has been so excited! She came home yesterday with her uniform, modeled it for the family and pranced around in it for some time. Ah, youth! I remember it well.

But today, she wasn’t quite so happy. Seems that a couple of girls that were her friends before she made cheerleader are suddenly not her friends anymore. The ones who aren’t on the squad are sticking together and having nothing to do with her. She was crushed; almost in tears!

I gave it my all. I told her: “You can’t make someone be your friend, but you can be such a nice person that they might want to.” I said, “Just keep smiling and speaking to those girls, don’t say anything bad about them to anyone else and maybe they’ll come around.” She looked at me with big, sad brown eyes and said, “But what if they don’t?”

Remembering this feeling – and hurting for her – I forced a smile and said, “If they don’t, it’s their loss. You’ll have other friends; good friends who’ll appreciate you for the sweet person you are. You don’t need friends who treat you badly just because you’re a cheerleader and they’re not.”

She seemed to feel better after our talk. I hope so. Problem is – there is so much more to this enigma than I could tell her. She will have to learn it just as we all did – through the painful experience of living it. No one can tell you. The truth is, this is just the way girls are. It never changes.

Some grown women still act this way. And nothing brings it out in them like the green-eyed monster. Birds of a feather flock together, too! Those who are envious of another's position in life stick together. Just like my granddaughter’s former friends, they learned young. And they've been this way their whole lives!

Unfortunately for them, jealously is a very unattractive trait! 

"Me Fall"

Do you know there are only nine days of August left? I’m excited.

To me, September is the countdown to fall, my favorite season. And it’s almost here! We used to enjoy going to the seashore in late September. The first year we tried that, our youngest grandchild was only two.

How delightful it was to see him running down the beach in front of the adults, his short legs moving as fast as he could possibly make them go! It was as if he knew there just wasn’t enough time to take it all in. He loved the sand and the moon and the water rolling in to embrace the shore. He’d giggle when he saw a wave coming and run toward it as if to meet it, but when it got very close, he’d squeal loudly, then turn and run away as fast as his little short legs would carry him...only to repeat the process with the next wave. I loved watching him! That first summer with him at the beach would have been recorded in my Joy Journal, except for one thing.

One bad incident sometimes ruins an otherwise wonderful experience. That’s what happened on the last night of our vacation. The five of us – my husband and I, my daughter, her husband, and Chase decided to take our final walk on the beach. Our delight in doing so was mixed with a little sadness because we knew, come morning, we’d be packing up the car and heading for West Virginia and home. It had been a very special six days and none of us wanted it to be over, especially little Chase. So off we went, barefoot and scantily clad for our last long walk on the beach. It couldn’t have been a more perfect night! The moon was full, and so was my heart!

Walking beside that overwhelming body of water with a huge full moon hanging so low in the sky that you feel like you could reach right out and touch it, its light glistening from the whitecaps as they roll in, kiss the shore and hurry back out again, renders me speechless every time I see it. It makes me feel so small and reinforces my belief that there is a God who truly is in control of everything. We are puppets with Him pulling the strings. As my bare feet sink into the cool wet sand and the warm ocean breeze caresses my body, I am lost in another world and not eager to return to reality.

And that’s exactly where I was when it happened. Somewhere else. My husband was looking down at the sand, collecting sea shells and Chase’s dad was lagging behind everyone else, for some unknown reason. But when God bestows a child upon a woman, He also gives her an uncanny ability to always know when that child needs her. Mothers always know.

Suddenly, my daughter screamed, “Chase!”  I returned from my trance to a frantic mother, a father running ahead of us and a grandfather looking as puzzled as I was. Then I saw what was causing all the commotion. Chase bobbed up from a hole in the sand – just briefly – and then disappeared again! By this time, both his mother and I were screaming hysterically and his dad was on his knees trying to reach Chase to pull him out of the hole. And, after what seemed like an eternity, with some supernatural strength of his own, he finally was able to do it. Strangest thing; the little guy wasn’t even crying – just reaching for his mother. When she wrapped him in her arms, he said simply,“Me fall.” He had stumbled onto some kind of a sand-hole cave in and nobody had seen him disappear, except his mother!

We were a very grateful bunch that night. Actually, we were awed by what had happened. Later, back at the hotel, I found Chase fast asleep and his mother standing on the balcony staring at the moon. She was almost speechless – with gratitude! Fourteen years later, we sometimes revisit the horrifying memory. I don’t know why. I suppose we never want to forget how thankful we are that God gave Chase’s father the strength to pull him out of that hole!

It could have ended tragically! We might have never seen Chase again! We could have had to drive away the next morning without the precious child we took with us!

The very thought sends shivers up my spine!

Letter From Hawaii

Many years ago, my husband and I had the good fortune to visit our 50^th state. My mother-in-law stayed at our home with our young children. I wrote about the trip here, but I was recently reminded of it again when I came across a letter I had written to the family. Reading it brought back wonderful memories. Thought you might enjoy it, too.

Dear Nanny and Children,

You would not believe the beauty of this place! This hotel is supposedly the largest resort hotel in the world. It’s fabulous! But the real beauty is the island itself. The weather is perfect. There's a constant wind that changes suddenly from a soft, warm breeze to a body-tugging gust, but it isn’t humid. There is none of the sticky, salty air that you normally feel at the seashore! The ocean and sky are the bluest blue you've ever seen! It's indescribable! We're taking lots of pictures.

I’m afraid I didn’t bring the proper shoes. My feet are swollen and painful from so much walking, but I’m not letting it slow me down – too much to see and do!

The coconut and pineapple drinks are scrumptious and the food, heavenly! Bet I’ve gained ten pounds, but, the Hawaiians measure the beauty of their women by how big they are—the fatter, the more beautiful—so I’m safe while I’m here, at least. (Smile)

The time change is hard to get used to. I was sitting up in bed at 4:30 this morning eating a candy bar and drinking a cup of tea. After all, it was 10:30 at home. Then I had watermelon, pineapple juice, beef hash, poached eggs, muffins and coffee at 7:30! See what I mean about getting fat? I could really get used to this life!

The only thing that would make this a more perfect vacation would be to have every one of you here with us, including Sammi (Yorkie). Toney, you would go crazy over the clothes – so colorful and bare! Here, they call girls in bikinis, “turkeys” (a lot of meat and a little dressing)!

I pray that all is well at home. I can’t wait to see everyone again! Take care and look for us around six or seven Wednesday evening.       

     

     Hugs and kisses to all. We love you!

           Mother and Dad~ 

Need I say more?

Morning's Awakening

~Published in the Charleston Gazette, Sunday, October 23, 2011~

I’m not a “morning person.” I usually stay up until three or four a.m. and sleep as late as my conscience will allow. I avoid making appointments in the morning hours when I can. But there are times when an obligation arises and I have no choice but to force myself out of bed early and do what is mine to do. 

I was once involved in an organization, which shall remain nameless. I’m not sure if it still exists, but it was a religious-based organization that helped people in trouble. After a few weeks of training, I and about ten others were scheduled for telephone duty around the clock. We pulled four hour shifts in a small room at a secret location. We weren’t even allowed to tell our families exactly where we were. The reason: We talked to people who were contemplating suicide and others with every problem one can imagine. There were alcoholics and drug addicts and battered women – and some were just lonely and wanted to talk. It would have been too risky to make our location public.

The shifts were rotated, and eventually, I had a four a.m. shift! After trying to get a little sleep, I was back up at three a.m., had coffee, grabbed a couple of granola bars and headed toward my destination.

I knocked on the door of the secret location to let the worker inside know I was there to relieve him. He filled me in on the calls he’d dealt with during the night – nothing unusual – and left. I poured a fresh cup of coffee and sat down.

The first two hours were uneventful – even a little boring. I read the newspaper. Twice. The phone didn’t ring. I tried to take a nap, but it wasn’t in the cards. About six a.m., noises from outside began to invade the stony silence. Morning sounds.

There was the sound of a truck stopping, perhaps to make a delivery, and then starting again. Birds twittered cheerfully. The unmistakable WHOOSH of air brakes told me that a bus had stopped at the traffic light not far away. It had been a long time since I’d heard a morning awaken. But I enjoyed it. Taking a piece of paper from my purse, I started writing about what I was hearing. At the top of the page, I scrawled, “The Sounds of Morning.”

After writing a few lines, I got up, walked to the window, barely opened the blinds and peeked out to see how this morning was shaping up. I saw a robin perched on a limb singing his heart out. Beyond the tree, several yards away, there was a beautiful lake. Fog rested softly on the water like a thin layer of frosting.

Did you know that, with the first light of morning, the sky becomes a masterpiece of color? I didn’t. Although the sun was still nestled behind the hills, its golden rays were a harbinger of the beauty that was still to come. Beyond the burst of yellow was a hint of sky, the promise of blue. It was magnificent to behold!

As I closed the blinds, I could hear footsteps on the sidewalk outside the building and people talking as they passed. The morning was in full swing. The world had awakened to another day. And I had witnessed it!

The phone rang and I talked to a lonely old lady for a while. She said she called every morning when she got up and talked to whoever answered. She explained that she had no one. No family. No friends. “Except you nice people,” she said sweetly.

I wished her a happy day and hung up just as the knock came at the door. My shift was over. And my day had begun in a much different way than usual. I’d like to say that the experience changed my habits and that I began getting up early every day.

But that wouldn’t be true. I will forever treasure the special memory of watching and hearing a new day “come alive,” yet, I must agree with Vincent van Gogh, who said:

"I often think the night is more alive and more richly colored than the day." 

Insurance Claim Forms

Actual Statements On Insurance Claim Forms:

   A truck backed through my windshield and into my wife’s face.

   A pedestrian hit me and went under my car.

   I pulled away from the side of the road, glanced at my mother-in-law and headed over an embankment.

   I thought the window was down but I found out it was up when I put my head through it.

   I was on my way to the doctor with rear-end trouble when my universal joint gave way causing me to have an accident.

   I saw a slow-moving, sad-faced old gentleman as he bounced off the roof of my car.

   The indirect cause of the accident was a little guy in a small car with a big mouth.

   I was thrown from the car and was later found in a ditch by some stray cows.

   

Are You A Worrier?

As a child, I thought it amusing to hear my father quote this scripture. "Man that is born of a woman is of few days, and full of trouble. (Job 14:1). He obviously believed it because he quoted it often. Throughout history, much has been written about the worry men experience, both real and imaginary, as they face a multitude of challenges in the journey of life. According to Webster’s New World Dictionary, worry is defined as "a troubled state of mind, anxiety, uneasiness, distress.”

I’m a world-class worrier. I learned it from my mother, who was an expert worrier. I just figured it came with the territory. When I don’t have anything to worry about, I worry because I’m not worried. “Things are going too well,” I say. “Something must be wrong!” But please don’t follow my lead. There is a better way.

Worrying is a choice, and you can choose not to do it. Once you catch yourself, you can say, “Okay, I’m getting off this merry-go-round. I’m not going to do this to myself.” Then, get completely absorbed with something that requires your complete mental attention: do a Sudoku puzzle, add some numbers to your cell phone, answer e-mail, or count the change in your piggy-bank. Just do something to get your mind off whatever is causing you to worry.

My research tells me that worry is bad for your health. It leads to high blood pressure, stomach ulcers, headaches, lowered immunity against viruses, and lots of other health issues. Chronic worrying affects your daily life so much that it interferes with your appetite, lifestyle habits, relationships, sleep, and job performance. Many people who worry excessively seek relief in harmful lifestyle habits such as overeating, cigarette smoking, or using alcohol and drugs.

But can you wrap everyone up in a neat little package? I don't think so. Personalities are complex. My mother, whom I’ve already stated was an expert worrier, lived to be 85. She ate anything she wanted, started smoking cigarettes at an early age and continued her whole life – even after a heart attack. When she developed Macular Degeneration, her Ophthalmologist told her she’d be blind if she didn’t stop smoking, but she continued.

My father, on the other hand, was a seemingly easy-going chap who gave the impression he never worried. He watched his diet, didn’t smoke and did everything the doctors told him, but was bothered by stomach ulcers for years, then had five heart attacks within a short period, and died at 63.

One has to wonder why some people get away with anything and others... well, just don’t live long lives no matter what they do. Doesn’t seem to matter, does it? Some say, “When it’s your time, it’s your time and there’s nothing you can do about it.” However, I’ve always believed that we can hasten the end – or slow it, according to the choices we make and the attitude we assume.

What do you think? Please share your comments on the subject.

~~~

"Calmness is a huge gift. And once you master it, you will be able to respond in a useful way to every difficult situation that decides to walk into your heart." ~Geri Larkin

Neon Yellow Shoestrings

Sometimes I plan my day and when it’s over, I look back and find that it doesn't even resemble the day I had imagined for myself. I’ve been wondering for years: Why is that?

Funny thing is – everyone seems to know the answer but me. And they don't hesitate to tell me, “Your problem is – you can’t say, ‘No’.” 

Hmmm... I can’t deny it, especially when it comes to my grandchildren.

I had errands to run today, was planning to get my hair done, do a little housework and write. I always write! But my daughter delivered Carson, my 12 year-old granddaughter to my house on her way to work. She often stays with us while her mother works. With her I-phone to keep her busy recording songs and talking to friends, along with practicing cheers and gymnastics in my family room, she’s not much trouble. 

But today, she had other plans. For both of us. She wanted me to take her shopping for school clothes. This is definitely not on my list of most favorite things to do! I endured that for many years with my three daughters. It is grueling!

I gave her every excuse I could think of: I was tired. Didn’t’ get enough sleep last night. Had a headache. Had other things to do. And finally, I just plain didn’t want to do it! But for every excuse I had, she had two reasons why we should go: there were great sales today and tomorrow, we’d have to pay full price for everything by Sunday. The stores will be more crowded over the weekend, all the good clothes will be gone – “especially my size” (0 or 1)! Her mom would be too tired to go after working all day... and on and on and on. 

I made my case and then ignored her. She sulked. I stood my ground! And then my conscience got involved. She’s right, you know, the wee voice whispered. There’s not much time left. School starts in a week. It would really help her mother out. Everything you were going to do can be put off for a day or two.

I was ready in about an hour and we set out for a mall about thirty minutes away. It was a beautiful sunny day. We chatted, listened to music and enjoyed the time together.

Once we were in a parking space, there was no holding Carson back. She jumped out of the car and walked so fast, I couldn’t keep up with her. She knew exactly where she was going and wanted to get there. Fast!

Inside her favorite store, there was nothing for me to do but stand around waiting. In no time at all, she had gathered up an armload of jeans, shirts, sweatpants and other items and was heading for a dressing room. She motioned for me because there was a chair where I could sit and rest. I was ready!

Watching this 12-year-old try on clothes took me back to a time when I could put on anything and look good in it, too. Those days are gone forever!  After about 50, most of us hate fitting rooms and mirrors. Especially mirrors! It’s always so disappointing to see something you really like on the hanger or model and then try it on to find it doesn’t look like the same outfit on you! I don’t buy many clothes for that reason. Trying them on is just too depressing!

So... we got in line to pay for our purchases. I was thinking – This wasn’t so bad. Now, we’ll get shoes and head home, when Carson said excitedly, “Only three more places to go!”

“Huh?” I said.  “Yeah, I have to get a few things at (store A), a bag for my books at (store B), and a pair of shoes to start school in at (store C)... and maybe another pair... for later.” I said, “Let’s get a bite to eat and rest a few minutes and then finish.” She nodded. But that didn’t work out well for me. I suppose most malls have a food court where you get what you want and take it to a table to eat. No fancy food or service here. Just a quick bite for weary shoppers like me who need something to keep them going a while longer.

 Carson chose Chick-fil-A – a place I’d never eaten and wasn’t sure I wanted to, but I needed something, mostly to drink and rest, so Chick-fil-A it was. She opted for a Kid’s Meal – chicken nuggets, fries, and drink. I’m sure there must be an age limit on the Kid’s Meal, but the waitress didn’t say anything – so I ordered one, too! Oh, yes I did! I didn’t see a thing on the menu I wanted, so I deduced that, at least, Carson would eat it if I didn’t want it.

When we got our food, we found a table and opened our bags to find that not only did we both have a prize inside... a small book (I love books!)... but also, while Carson had ordered sweet tea, I hadn’t, so I had a juice box - with apple juice in it. It had a little straw attached to the side and everything! I’d seen them before, but never had one. I love new and exciting experiences!

Carson giggled the whole time we were eating. She was certain people were staring at me. I told her if they were, they were just jealous because they didn’t get a book.

Fortified with chicken nuggets and apple juice, I was able to withstand visiting the three stores she had left. After finding most everything she wanted, she finished with a pair of white tennis shoes for which she added a little something extra – a pair of neon yellow shoestrings. Finally! She was happy and ready to go home. And it wasn't even dark yet.

In the car, she phoned her mother to tell her all about her purchases and how much fun we’d had. Giggling, she told her in detail about my having a Kid’s Meal. I truly don’t know why that was so amusing.

About half-way home, she said, “You know, Maw-Maw, if you aren’t too tired, we could go to Wal-Mart and get my school supplies.”

Without a word, I drove straight to her house. I helped get the packages out of the trunk, hugged her and drove away as fast as I could – before she could start telling me all the good reasons to go to Wal-Mart!