One Year

Mom,

One year since you have left us....hard to believe. It seems like so much longer. Do you know what has happened since you left? I have a feeling you do.

Kristin is still at Liberty. Remember those nice dorms across the highway? That's where she lives now. She is still playing volleyball and has lots of new friends. She works for me now...taking care of Korie in the summer. I know you would like that.

Korie joined chorus in school. She loves it. She went to camp this past weekend. She wore a couple of the shirts you bought her last year before you went in the hospital. She loved them.

Steve is still studying...oh, and he is doing varsity basketball this year again. I know you would think that it was too much, and you are right. But hopefully, it will work out okay. He is Elementary Coordinator...what do you think about that? You would be proud of him.

I am still doing bible study. You would be doing it along with me at home. You would be almost done studying Revelation. But I know you get lessons for the Master now. You would be thrilled for me that I went to England and Hawaii this past year. I hope you were watching. England was a life long dream and you knew that. I decided to go while you were sick...not even sure if you remember. I hope so.

We are having Christmas at my house this year. Remember the one other time we did that? You were thrilled that we lit a candle to remember dad. This year, we will do it for you, too.

It has been a struggle without you. I know we didn't see eye to eye on many things but we were still close. I didn't realize until you were gone how much I talked to you on the phone. I still think about calling you just about every day....sometimes it is still a shock when I remember that you won't answer. I called our number the other day...the one we had on Hibbs Road since 1967. I half expected someone else to have it already but it is still just an "out of order" number. I suppose to someone will have it soon though and that stinks.

The Taylors live in our house now. Isn't that weird? I can't imagine it. I don't know if I ever want to go back there again. I don't know if I could stand the changes. I can hardly even write about it. Many of your things are here in my house. That is strange, too. I wonder what you would think?

What about you? What have you been doing for the past year? I would love to know. Does it seem like a year to you? Does it seem like only a day? Surely, you have met dad again. Do you hang out with him? Does he show you around? Do you both watch us? I believe you can if you want to. I just don't think you have the time to do it often. But I don't know for sure. Who have you met? What job do you have? What is your home like? What sights do you see? WHERE are you? I know you are in a temporary heaven but WHERE is it? Are you out in the sky somewhere? Are you around me but we can't see you?

The holidays are coming. Your passing was near them. So near, that last Thanksgiving and Christmas, I think we were in a daze and it didn't seem like you were missing for a holiday. It does seem like that this year. I can't stop thinking about you. I did well afterwards...but lately...it's hard. I'LL BE HOME FOR CHRISTMAS" is a song that I can't stop thinking about lately as December nears. I can only be home for Christmas now in my dreams...that song is true.

I know God has a plan for each person. A time to be born and a time to die. I just don't know why I am so young both my parents are gone already. I still needed you both... my life isn't always easy. It was nice to share that burden with you at times. It was nice to know that unconditional love was there..within reach.

I am still happy...I have a great family and I am loved and love them. But I have a hole....it was there when dad left and my life changed forever..but you and our childhood home, kept that hole filled enough that the pain didn't always ebb through. Now, it is just really empty and I am having trouble filling it up. I am glad I have the Lord and I have the Hope of seeing you again. But until then, it is a struggle.

The way that you left us was difficult. You were so sick and so many difficult things happened. I hate sin for many reasons but the suffering it causes makes me detest it with all that is in me. It is hard for me to accept that both you and dad had to suffer before you left. I am thankful yours was only 21 days instead of the year of suffering poor dad had to endure. But it was a diffuclt 21 days and I am reliving them this week. I am so sorry for any way that I added to it. I know you wanted out of that bed and you got very angry at me for not letting you up. I hope you know that I wish you could have had anything you wanted. I hope you weren't angry with me when you had your last thoughts of me. It was always a comfort to me that dad's last words were, "I love you, too, Donna"....thinking of what you may have been thinking has been a struggle for me.

So, as this "mile marker"...this "year" is now gone...and the time that I last talked to you gets farther and farther away...I will keep going on....remember that sign dad had us paint for youth group?..,Keep on keeping on....well, he taught me to do that...and I will. But as our lives keep changing and growing, the fact that you aren't here with us will never be far from my mind....no matter how much time passes. I wanted you to know that.

One year.....how many more to go until we are all together again?

Changes in the Holiday

Today I am thinking about Christmas. With my parents gone now, my brothers and I have to make new Christmas traditions while keeping some of our meaningful ones. We decided we are taking turns hostings the Christmas celebrations at one another's homes. I get to have it at my house first! The good thing about that is that I don't have to travel at Christmas time this year...a nice treat!! Two whole weeks in Virginia and no long drives to Ohio and back.

The difficult thing is that doing something new and having it first is a little bit daunting to me. I feel the need to make this year special and meaningful. I want to mix a bit of "new" while acknowledging the past. I have put a lot of thought into it and am still pondering on the day.

Of course, the very reason that we have Christmas is to celebrate the coming of Christ. So that is something that I want to stress. It is something that was important to both my parents. The reading of the Christmas story is a nod to my father who always read it to us on Christmas Eve. Making memories for all to remember is a nod to my mother who always told us to make memories. But I will also mix in a little of my own family, mine and Steve's, by adding some of our own traditions.

So, my mind is on Christmas already...even before Thanksgiving, which is another story completely. Korie and I are listening to Christmas music and I am making myself not start decorating for a few weeks yet. I will probably drive my sisters in law crazy as I keep asking them questions about the day! But my mind is considering how I will "be home for Christmas....if only in my dreams", while making a new celebration for my daughters, nephews and nieces....one that they will someday look back on and remember with fond thoughts. Can I do it? I am going to try.

I am so tired....

Can I be tired today? I need to be tired. I so much try to be upbeat and strong and just keep going and not complain. But today...I am tired. I am tired of not getting enough sleep. I am tired of not having time alone. I am tired of giving people medicine (including myself), I am tired of Korie getting UTIs and taking her to the doctor all the time, I am tired of worrying about Kristin and about if she is safe, if her grades are good, if she will find the right person and will God work in her life.

I am tired of missing my parents and of thinking about someone else living in my childhood home. I am tired of cleaning the same things and the same clothes over and over. I am sooo tired.

I am tired of making sure Korie is cathed every 4 hours. I am tired of my shoulder hurting all the time from helping her move in and out of my chair and I am tired of dealing insurance issues all the time!!!!!! (I am REALLY tired of that one!). I am even tired of people not knowing how tired I am!! :) There are so many other reasons I am tired...the demands of life call to me.

I would never have written all this out if I hadn't seen some of the psalms where David tells exactly how he feels....thing is....David then ends the psalm with the other side of the coin.....

So.....I am thankful for life...for the ability to get up in the morning. I am grateful for my daughters and for all that comes with them for it makes them part of who they are. I can trust them to the Lord. I appreciate that there are doctors and procedures to make Korie's life a good one. I am grateful for her love and her smile and for a husband who loves and cares for his family. I am in gratitude that my parents are in heaven waiting for me and that God made it possible for my sins to be forgiven and has given me a home. Someday, I will live there and I won't be tired anymore. I will be rested, calm and in the place where I was meant to be and the type of person I was meant to be. I will be surrounded by the family of God. Praise Him for all His has done, all He is doing and all He will do. I am most blessed.

On days like today, I look forward....and that helps me to go another day.

Accepting my "Holland"

I do not even know if I can explain in words my feelings this week. I have lived through sending my oldest to college and the bittersweet feelings that it brings to a parent's heart. I was right there, fighting the tears and struggling with the inner turmoil that tries to accept such a big change in my life.

I am in no way, undermining anyone who is experiencing this feeling in the coming weeks. Many of my friends have children going off to college and my heart and my prayers are with them. I hurt for them on one hand and rejoice with them on the other.

This year, another dimension comes into my thoughts and feelings. These are my own to bear and I don't take away from the feelings of pain or joy from anyone else. But what I am facing on my own, is the fact that this is the year that Korie is suppose to be packing and going off to college. We are suppose to be done with sports, graduation, that decision of where to go and what classes to take. Korie and Kristin could be going off together. Steve and I could be ready to experience the "empty nest" with no children at home and freedom to explore our own relationship again.

Instead, Kristin goes off alone, I watch other mom's saying good bye to their 18 year olds full of hopes and dreams. Yes....it's a bit hard to take sometimes. I wish I was struggling with my goodbyes...Oh, our family has our joys in the little things....so I am not complaining.....I was THRILLED when Korie read GREEN EGGS AND HAM to me all on her own yesterday....so happy to have someone that loves my unconditionally and tells me she loves me everyday. I am a mom most blessed.

But that doesn't stop my feelings of "what could have been" if God had not chosen me for this task. Most days, I am up for it!!! Ocassionally, on days like today, when school starts up again, I struggle a bit more. I found a poem that best describes my feelings on days like last May, during graduation and days like this week, when college looms around the corner...it's called:

WELCOME TO HOLLAND
byEmily Perl Kingsley.

I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability - to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this......

When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.

After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland."
"Holland?!?" you say. "What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."

But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.

The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place.
So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.
It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy.

But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around.... and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills....and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.

But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy... and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."

And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away... because the loss of that dream is a very very significant loss.

But... if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things ... about Holland.

So, I will turn back to my "Holland" and see the good things that I have that others don't. I may mourn some days but when my perspective is correct and I realize that it is GOD that took me to Holland...then I can take a deep breath and enjoy Holland. For in Holland, you are told how much you are loved...every day!!

The Time Machine

Wouldn't it be something if you had a handheld "time machine" that you could point at certain rooms, or certain places? Then ghostly images from the past would play like a movie in front of your eyes..showing exactly what happened years ago. What an invention that would be!!

I would point it in the direction of the living room of my childhood home. First, I wouldn't even see the room that stands there today but a big open field with high, green corn growing on one side, and an older brick home on the other. Then, my two brothers and I are running across the grass as our dad explains that we would soon have a home built here. All three of us have on cowboy hats and play clothes as we run over grass that doesn't have our footpaths worn in it yet....but soon will.

Then the scene fades and a house is now standing there. A nice, big living room with orange carpet (yes, it was the 70s). My mom and dad are sitting on their green furniture smiling and watching their three children run across the long room, doing sommersaults and rolls across the new, fresh, shag carpet. We are rolling and turning until we can hardly catch our breath.

Now it is Christmas....a real tree all decorated with old ornaments and big colored lights and lots of tinsil is blinking in the room. I see myself looking out that window to the sky, trying to catch a glimpse of Santa Claus and his reindeer. Then, quickly, I see three bright-eyed children sneaking down the stairs and waking their parents to come in and start opening presents. I see snap guns, dolls and racetracks across the room and parents enjoying the laughing and activity. Then, everyone is dressing up and grandma Irvin is sitting on the couch and we are waiting for family to come celebrate the holiday. Aunt, uncles and cousins are sitting in a circle as they guess who drew their name so they can open their gifts....but they fade away.....

I see myself having a birthday sleepover, with my friends in their sleeping bags laying across the floor. The game of Truth or Consequences is being played and then a scary movie on the TV and girls screaming and ducking underneath covers. What fun they are having! They don't know that time is ticking.....Then I am sitting at my black piano, practicing my lessons...I spent hours there...but I only see a little glimpse....

Now, it changes to summertime, the heat bearing in, windows opened and fans running. We have come home from a picnic, where my brother had gotten lost from wandering away. Now he is standing in the corner, the flush of fear still on my parents faces. Now it is winter, so cold...the blizzard of '78, the worst winter storm in Ohio history. Banks of snow all around the house, the furnace out, all the other rooms but the living room, blocked off to keep the small heat from the fireplace on us. I am coughing with bronchitis and have to go and stay with friends who have a coal furnace......

Now the room blends from white to color and a woodstove, that would be the main staple of the room for years to come is now in place. It's dark green color and it's beautiful window with black trim intriguing to young eyes. From now on, the room will be filled with firewood and newspaper to keep out the cold.

All of the sudden, the scene changes and we are older. I see many events going by in a blurr....myself, sitting and doing an all nighter for science, my brother lying on the couch crying from a fall down the stairs and a broken collar bone, my dad bringing in a big oak stair railing that would define the room forever, family devotions in the morning before school, church family over for a cookout, missionaries that we took in during a conference, my brothers wrestling on the floor. I see dad taking a nap on the couch, mom sitting and reading her bible under the lamp, old boyfriends of mine and old girlfriends of my brothers joining our family for an evening. I see myself and my cat playing Hide and Seek together, one of my favorite memories and Bobo running across the room, excited to be in the house. The scenes are going by so quickly, I want them to slow down so I can savor each one.....but they keep on going....as life seems to do...one chance to see the moment and then it is gone forever.

I can tell the machine is fading...the spirit-like images becoming even more transparent...but I can still make out my brothers holding their trophies up for a picture in front of the fireplace. I see me in my high school cap and gown smiling for the camera with my parents. I see me looking around the room one last time before I leave for college.....and I see coming home and finding things a little different but still familiar. I see my last night at home....the living room can be a quiet room...the TV was in the "TV room" and brothers in their room or outside....the lights are turned down, just the green glow from the lower half of the lamps shining. I sit quietly in the chair, hearing the chimes of the clock as they sing goodbye...for I soon will have a new home.

The last few scenes show me returning home with husband and daughters. Now they are the ones sleeping on the floor with cousins and hanging out around the room talking. The living room that once seemed so large for the five of us, now is bursting at the seams with the 18 of us. Mom and Dad loving on their grandkids.....but wait, dad isn't here in this picture after all...he didn't meet all of his grandchildren...he is gone and we look sad. But we go on...summer visits still passing by, Christmases celebrated, family gathering. It seems it will go on like this forever.....

But then, everything is changed. Mom is gone, too. One by one, things start to disappear from the room...soon it is empty. The house is just a shell of what it once was....it is handed over to someone new....it isn't ours anymore.....new decor, new faces, new memories will fill the four walls.

The scenes are ended and there are no more pictures to see. I shake my head and try not to cry....at first I am sad but then I realize that I don't need a "time machine" to see those images. They are in my mind. They are available at any time. Yes, it is true that they are more like shadows and I can't touch, taste or feel those moments anymore. But I can close my eyes and remember...so I lean back, sigh....and I choose which moment to open up to my mind's eye...the old times right there to see...and I enjoy the pictures...of any room I desire.

The Wagon Wheel

If you look from my living room into my backyard, you will see an old iron-metal wagon wheel leaning against a tree. Sometimes I sit and look at that wheel and imagine the stories I could learn from it. You see, it didn’t come from around here… Virginia, which is full of its own history and stories. No, this wheel’s story comes from another place…another time.

Last month, I was visiting my brother in Kentucky. He asked me if I would want to ride along to Jacksboro, Tennessee, the next morning, stay a few hours and be back to his house by lunch. This involved leaving at 3 am. I was so tempted to say no, because I do love my morning sleeping hours. But I had not been back to Jacksboro since my mom and I went for the Richardson Reunion five years ago.

Jacksboro is an important place to me. It is right near all the action that took place so many years ago with the Tennessee Valley Association, For you see, my relatives lived right where Norris lake is now. My ancestors had to leave their homes for higher ground for the government wanted to put a manmade lake in their valley. So they just moved…up. Up to Jacksboro. Jacksboro is a little tiny town…the kind that you would miss if you blinked. But from the town, you start going up the mountain and many folks lived up there. Most of my dad’s family did. My history is there…and when I am there, I feel that history all the way down to my bones.

My great-grandparents, Hattie Gaylor and Lee Richardon, did well for themselves. They owned about 300 acres and they farmed the land. From the time I was born, my father would take me there every summer to visit his grandparents. We called them Grandpa and Grandma Richardson. As I grew, I used to roam the rolling hills that my family owned, with the barb wire fences separating the fields, the crops growing, and the cows (and that bull we ran from) chewing their cud. It was a world that didn’t exist back home in Ohio, the Midwest flat lands! Even as a child, I could close my eyes and see great grandparents working in the fields, their 9 children helping them. I heard the stories Grandma Richardson used to tell us of days that she remembered with such clarity. She lived to be 104…but she died in 1990….so long ago, it seems to me. Now her home is rundown and empty….a terrible sight to see. But one of her grandchildren still raise hogs and cattle on that farmland.

So that day, when I agreed to get up when it was still dark and take that 4 hour trip with my brother, I was thinking that I had the chance to see it all again. So much had changed and that made me sad. We went through her ransacked house and I tried not to cry. The very same couch she would sit on and tell us her stories still sat there in ruins. The bed she would sleep in, still there but destroyed! I found a pair of her shoes, one of her purses and some cards she wrapped in red ribbon.

But as we were leaving, we drove by the house in their side yard. The one with the cellar….the one where grandma would take us as she got her preserves or her canned green beans that she had put away and needed to cook for us on her wood stove. I asked my brother to stop…could we look in it? Could I take one whiff of that cellar smell that was so familiar to me. We could hardly open the door….my brother stepped in, hoping to avoid any creatures hanging around. But he saw something! Leaning against one of the walls were two old wagon wheels! He wanted one to take home….it was soooo big. But he wanted to use it as a decoration in his yard. Did I want one?, he asked me…….I thought, oh, that’s big and we are far from home…what will Steve think? But I said….YES! I did!! So we loaded the second one….took it back to Kentucky and then into our van and back to Virginia.

Now that old wheel, that sat so many years in an old cellar, of a home where no one lived anymore, where there was nothing left but memories, was sitting at my home. We leaned it against our back tree in the back yard. It looks good there! And it makes me think. I can now imagine about the Richardson land from my own yard in Virginia. I look at the wheel and wonder if my great grandfather had it on his hay wagon…for that is what it looks like…a hay wagon wheel. I imagine him in the hot, Tennessee sun, with his boys, working hard in the fields…the wheels slowly turning as they make their way up and down the rows of crops they planted themselves.

Then I remember that my dad spent his summers there. His father died when he was 5. His mom wanted him to spend time with men. So he would go to Cincinnati to stay with an uncle or he would go to Tennessee to spend time with his grandfather. Dad told me how he would work out in the fields sometimes and help. He told of riding the hay, drinking cool water and working hard. So now, I look at that wheel and wonder if it could possibly be one of the wheels of the hay wagon carrying a teenage boy, who had lost his father, but kept touch with him through his family? Did my dad hoist himself over that same wheel that now leans against the tree in my yard! What a thought! I wonder what he would have thought if it were true? Could he imagine being married someday with a daughter who would miss him when he was gone and miss the family that he introduced her to when she was born? Could he have realized that he could put love of family and love of land in that little girl? Would he had ever thought as he noticed the wheel of the wagon he was riding in that hot day, would 50 years later be in Kentucky at a son’s home and in Virginia at a daughter’s home? I wonder and I wonder!! These are the thoughts that tumble around in my mind as I look out my living room windows at the old wagon wheel in my back yard…..oh how I wish that wheel could answer my questions!!

My Childhood Bedroom

I was the only girl, so I got my own bedroom. It was upstairs in our home but had one slanting ceiling. I loved it. Mom painted the room light blue when we had the house built and it was a Holly Hobby theme. Later, I had it painted pink and white. I loved all the angles and corners in the room, although I did bump my head a few times. My room was my sanctuary. I spent hours there (just ask my brothers). I had my own world going on. I was always a dreamer, making up stories...sometimes writing them down but many times, living them out through my Barbies, Dawn Dolls and paper dolls...my imagination ran wild.

Each doll had a name that it still has today. Each one had a personality, certain friends, liked certain clothes. My neighbor, and best friend growing up, would come and add her Barbies and we had a real Soap Opera Serial going on!! We would spend hours playing...an old Ed Ames record played music as our dolls danced, various parts of the room would be homes, I could go on and on. What a world we lived in!! I loved it.

I spent hours in my room reading as well. I doubt you could count the books I read in there! It was where I could get away from what I percieved as my "trials" in life! Growing up, at times, was difficult for me , because of so many things that I didn't understand...such as why I had to dress or be a certain way. I felt like I never made my own decisions and I was very dramatic! I rarely rebelled on the outside but I sure did on the inside. I guess most kids go through these kind of things as they grow up. I took mine very hard. My walls could tell many stories of things I said outloud that never left my room.

I have had trouble falling asleep my whole life. While laying there trying so hard to sleep, I could hear everything going on in the house downstairs. Years later, my mom slept in there and was amazed at how I ever went to sleep with all the sounds. I spent many hours feeding my imagination as I tried to sleep. However, in the mornings, it was hard to get up!! My mom would yell up the stairs to get out of bed, and I would lean over and hit the floor with my hands so she would think I gotten up. Then I would lay there a little longer. She told me later that she knew that was what I was doing. It seems silly now but I remember as a child, the nights my mom would be out late at a women's church event. I would worry what would happen to us if she was in an accident and didn't come home. I would lay in bed worrying until I heard her pull in the driveway. I never, ever went to sleep before she got home...and I never told about it....I don't know why.

The furniture in my room was a dark, beautiful wood that had been my grandparents first bedroom set after they married. It was old but I liked it. I like the big round mirror that sat atop the dresser and the tall bedposts at the end and top of the bed. When I was a teenager, my grandmother found purple bedsprings that we put under my bed (purple was my new color) and though they were kind of noisey, I loved them. My mom got rid of them as soon as I moved out! :) I also loved the bubble light that hung next to my bed that I would read by and the crocheted plant holder my great-grandmother gave me. I always had a plant in it, near the window.

At night, my brothers, would knock on the wall and I would answer back. Sometimes I would start, and they always answered. It was the old knock that everyone knows....the five raps, ending with the two raps....the most famous knock in the world! It makes me smile to remember.

My favorite part of my room was the view out of the window. We lived in the country and there was a corn field across the road from us. On the other side of the cornfield, was a pond and beyond the pond was Route 104. I could see all these things from my window. The sun set over that pond every evening. Out that window, I saw sunsets, growing corn in the summer and white snow in the winter. One of the last things I did when I left the house for the last time, was gaze out that window at my view that was my own for 17 years before moving out to be married.

The most important thing that ever happened to me was in that room. One Sunday, on the way home from church, I told my parents that I wanted to accept Christ as my Savior. My dad took me to my room, we read some passages from the Bible and I knelt at my bed and asked Christ to save me. Right there in my pink and white room! :)

I had sleepovers with so many friends there, cried my heart out when my boyfriend in tenth grade broke up with me, railed against what I perceived as unfair rules, was woken up on birthdays by mom "trying" to play Happy Birthday on the piano and I enjoyed the rare nights my dad would come up and rub my feet when they were cramping and tell me stories of when he was little. I lay in bed many nights on Christmas Eve listening for Santa's reindeer to land on the roof and was SURE I heard the rustling of him wrapping our presents! I spent countless hours dreaming of my future, what I would be like, how many kids I would have and who Mr. Right would be.

And there was the Ohio State Basketball poster that I taped to the back of my door that I Ioved so much. It had my favorite players on it, Steve Winters, Larry Bolden and Craig Taylor. It was on the door for so long, that when I got married, it wouldn't come off so I could take it with me. When we sold the house, Steve took a razor and got it off for me. I loved that poster! There were the years of Abandon, my cat, sleeping on my feet at night. Such a familiar feeling. Then there was the spot on the rug where our dog, Bobo got sick and mom tried her best to get all of the stain out but never could!. And the little rocking chair that belonged to my grandmother and my mom and then to me. I would put my dolls in it. It sat in the same spot year after year, reminding me of my past and giving me hope for my future.

So many memories of my bedroom. I could never list them all. Last time I left there, most signs of my being there were gone, packed up and put in boxes or brought to my home in Virginia. Yet, it will always remain my room. Some memories are so ingrained, that even external changes cannot hid the fact of what was. No matter whose room it is now, if they listen hard enough, they will hear the sounds of a little girl's imagination.......

Remembering our Family Kitchen

I am going to posting my memories of my childhood home. My parents built the house when I was 6 years old and I lived there until I was 22 and married Steve. Every room has numerous memories. Today, I am going to think about the kitchen....

It wasn't a big kitchen. But a lot happened there. Our family dinner table sat in front of the sliding doors. We always sat in the same chairs. My dad at the end. We had family dinners every night. My dad got home at 5:30 and we usually sat down to eat as soon as he came home. My dad didn't like any other ethnic foods...we never had pizza, tacos, rice or anything like that. We always had a meat, potatoes cooked in some form, a vegetable and bread. We either had milk or tea to drink. Sometimes, my mom would put the bread in the crock pot and it would get warm and soft.

If dad came home in a good mood, we had a noisy, laughing dinner and if he wasn't in a good mood, it was a quiet one. Years later, I understood that he had colitis and was very ill many evenings, which had a lot to do with his demeaner. But as a child, I never understood that...I just thought he was grumpy those evenings. I wish he had told us.

The kitchen memories: once when dad was in one of his moods, he asked me to pass the bread. I don't know what possessed me, but I picked it up and "passed it"...a football throw from one end of the table to the other. He was an athlete...and he caught with a surprised look on his face. There was a moment of silence as everyone took in what I had just done. Then, a slow grin came across his face and he started laughing...so we all did, too. The rest of dinner was happy!

We had many a birthday celebration around the table...all of us at one time or another. One time, we even had party hats and cake for our dog Bobo. That was a good memory...his birthday was Jan. 19, btw. Dad also ate his cornbread in milk...we kids used to hate it..you could see the cornbread touching the sides of the glass and he would stir it and we would moan of how gross it was. He loved it!

For many years, Christmas was at my grandmothers but then it switched to our house. So on Christmas Day, our midday meal with my grandmother, her boyfriend, Paul, and my aunt and uncle and cousins were in our kitchen...although we ended up eating in several places though the years as we all grew up....the basement, the living room and even the garage so that we could all fit around one table.

After dinner, it was usually the job of the three kids to clean up. One of us would wash, one dry and one put away. Because it would make my brother, Steve upset, I won't tell you what really happened while we cleaned up. :)

We also colored eggs, played board games and did homework at the kitchen table. My dad would fix fudge...or TRY to fix fudge in the kitchen. He would get out the cocoa and start mixing it up, although most of the time, it was too runny and we ate it with spoons! He also would warm up milk on the stove and add cocoa to make us hot chocolate. We popped popcorn on the stove....not microwave then, but real kernels and shaking the pot as it popped.

Later, after I was engaged to Steve, he came and laid the new floor for us. I sat in the kitchen rocking in a chair as I watched him and the grooves are still on the floor! Oops!!

The kitchen is the first place we brought Abandon, the cat that Tom and I brought home...he was abandoned from a car driving in front of us and we brought him home. First he was in the garage and finally mom let us bring him in the kitchen...then he graduated to my room!!

We also left our winter coats, gloves, mittens and boots on the kitchen floor in front of the garage door...I guess eventually, mom picked them up for us.

I remember the dishes, the servings spoons, the serving bowls, the glasses, the revolving pantry doors and what foods we kept in them. I remember which drawers we kept the silverware in, the phone book, the paper and pencils, the bill box and the napkins. I remember where we kept the pots and pans, the kitchen towels and washcloths and the hanging tin cup we would drink out of. I remember mom leaving her jewelry on the kitchen window seal and how we had to tie a rubber band around the doorknobs of the shelves under the sink because they wouldn't stay closed.

We had an old, ugly green refrigerater forever!! Mom hung a picture of Tom Sellek on the fridge to tease dad. She kept the phone numbers of our friends and family on the inside door of the cabinet by the fridge and the keys on top of the fridge! We all would throw our keys up there!! The cat dish was in the kitchen. We never had a dishwasher...there wasn't really room and mom always said she had three dishwashers...haha...not funny! :)

When family came to visit or friends came over to spend time with us, most would come through the kitchen. Only strangers came to the front door!

Yes, our kitchen. It was small but it was mighty in memories. The last time I was in the house, I went out through the kitchen and into the garage. The kitchen ws the last room I said goodbye to. If I close my eyes, I can still see the five of us sitting around the table eating dinner.....

Hawaii Trip

Kristin's 2nd year at LU

Photo and video editing at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Silly thoughts before I leave England!

Well, this is my first blog on England.....I shouldn't really be sitting here because there is still so much to do! I have been so busy that I haven't had time to process it or PACK!!! I still have a few hours tomorrow!!

I have already been blessed! A couple of friends gave me a wonderful gift to take with me to England...I am most blessed....thank you, God, for the caring people of Denbigh Baptist...they are the best!!

I have spent this evening reading the US Air website and making sure that all my bottles and liquids are regulation. I have to admit that I am nervous to fly across all that water...I mean, if you crash..it doesn't matter if you are crashing into land or water, really...but I keep thinking of all those hungry sea creatures.....

Seriously, I have never done anything like this but here I go. Rebecca has a friend named Kristin who lived in England and sent us a little care package with English snacks...I loved it....my favorite was the "Hob Nobs"...the package said they were "nobbly oaty biscuits"...don't you love that!!! I do! There was more and I have included a picture of the candy by a decorative flower...thank you! :)

Liz, if you are reading this, thank you for studying at Oxford for you have made this day possible and my friend, Rebecca, who believed that I could go and is allowing me to tag along..and my husband, who, without his support and extra care, this wouldn't be possible (this is like an acceptance speech) and last of all, for Korie's grandparents who will pick her up from school every day for me....I now hear music playing so I will stop!

It is approaching 11 pm and I still am not ready....I know I won't sleep....but I will be ready in 12 hours...when to the airport I go.....whoever my pilot is, I hope you are getting lots of rest tonight!! And maybe by some miracle, the rain won't fall in Philly so we can get out and walk...and maybe we won't get stuck with someone who snores on our flight (although it could be ME, my allergies are acting up!!) and we will land safely at Heathrow Airport and then Rebecca will quickly learn to drive on the left side of the road!!!!

More tomorrow...probably as I wait in the airport through the 8 hour layover!! Yipee!! At least I will have times to turn my dollars into pounds! The adventure continues tomorrow..........

"I WILL"

So, yesterday, Steve and I had to stand in a courthouse and raise our hands and solemnly swear that we would look after the best interests of and always take care of our own daughter! Wow. The irony of that just....got to me. When the time came for me to answer, I wanted soooo badly to say, "I've done that for 18 years already, why would I stop now??" But I refrained and said "I will."

That whole experience kind of made me sad. I know Korie has serious medical conditions that come up and there are many decisions have to be made that impact her life. I know it is best that we make those decisions and not Korie herself, who may not understand, or a medical professional who doesn't know her whole story. But shouldn't the parents who have raised her from an infant and have all these experiences be considered the "experts" and not have to go through these hoops they have in place? Yes, I know some kids are alone, or have bad parents, there are so many sad situations. And because of those things and because sin is in this world and has messed everything up, children have to be protected. But it still really bothered me that we had to go through this process. It was costly, long, complicated and stressful. I am however, thankful that it went smoothly, thanks to a WONDERFUL lawyer and friends, and it was not contested and that it is behind us.

But, I will forever remember that I had to stand in a courthouse and swear to take care of my own child. And I wonder what this world has come to. And I look forward to the day everything is made right. Not only, will all people be protected and loved as they should, but all will be whole and healthy. What a day that will be! Come, Lord Jesus! Until then...."I WILL!"

The Beginning of my Trip of a Liftime

I was about 12 years old the first time I went to the Grove City Library and came upon an author named Jean Plaidy. She also wrote books under the name Eleanor Hibbert (and I guess she did romance stories under Victoria Holt but I didn't read those). The ones I read were historical novels on the kings and queens of England, Scotland, and France, mostly. They fascinated me. Whether they did this by the sometimes gruesome but royal stories or because I realized that these were real people and these books were mostly accurate accounts, I am not sure. All I knew, is that when I read one, I was taken to a world of castles, towers, riches, war, danger and intrigue. They tickled my imagination. I felt like I knew the likes of King Henry VIII with his 6 wives, whom I always remember by....Divorced, Beheaded, Died, Divorced, Beheaded, Survived! I could see the beautiful Anne Boelyn and the young and foolish Catherine Howard as they were locked in the Tower awaiting their deaths, after being the darling of the king and having everything they ever wanted. I felt like I knew Eleanor of Aquitaine, who married two kings in her lifetime, and who traveled on Crusades (quite a big deal in those days) and lost the love of her husband, King Henry and ended up captive until her son Richard freed her at Henry's death.

England seemed so far away from my little world in Ohio. It seemed farther away still as I moved to Virginia and life continued on....England a distant thought, though occassionally, I pick up a history book now and then and read more. I actually one time asked the Lord if He would just let me take a fly down and look around before He destroyed it someday! :) I also kept notebooks, writing down things to remember if I ever got to go.

Then one day last year, my friend Rebecca asked if I would like to go with her to England in the spring. My first thought was "no way"...I am in no position in life for a trip like that. I have responsibilites, a few bills that need to be paid, trips like that are for the other people...not me. Why, I am lucky if I get to go someplace besides Ohio to visit family! Rebecca told me we should just pray. I wanted to laugh...I may have actually laughed aloud!

But as time passed, and the opportunity to stay on the Air Force base there became available and my wonderful husband kept saying...."this could happen"..."this could be your last chance!" I actually allowed myself to think maybe I could do this!! I took the plunge and we bought plane tickets!! I was going to ENGLAND!!!! I still can't believe it! I still wonder if at the last minute, SOMETHING will keep me from going. As usual, my life took it's turns with my mom's death and Korie having a medical condition...I honestly didn't believe I was going until last week. So, right now...it looks like I am taking an adventure! A trip that I have only taken in my dreams! I think I am going to England....I don't know if I will believe it until I am in the air.

I am behind now....I only started seriously getting ready this week...I have so much to do....A widow's luncheon to plan, a women's retreat to get ready for, packing to do...and I have to plan for the three days in London...which I thought I had done but had to start over today....BUT, that's okay.

As the plane flies away from the States, I hope to leave my worries behind and concentrate on taking in everything I can. I am going to stand on the very spot where Anne and Catherine "lost their heads"....I am going to go to the Palace where King Henry VIII lived, to where every king and Queen since William the Conqueror has had their coronation....I am going to take in every sight, drive Rebecca crazy taking pictures and make memories that will last a lifetime...yes, mother!!.....if you can read this, you will be thrilled with me...thanks for making it happen and yes, I will make memories...just like you always told me to.

So, I leave later this week, but once I get there, I hope to blog and share what I saw and how I felt.....unless I am exhausted!! :) We will see. London, England....here I come!

A Beautiful Day

I need to blog more...I intend to blog more when Korie has her surgery. Today is supposed to be sunny and 65 degrees!! Yay! It has been a long, "colder than usual" winter for Virginia...a SOUTHERN state!

I thought that today perhaps, I would write on the beauty of the birds gathering at my feeder, or maybe the feel of the warmeth on my face, or perhaps even the daffodils that are peeking up in my front yard. I changed my desktop from the Ohio State snowman to a spring picture that I took last spring in my neighborhood...I will enclose that picture just because it is SO beautiful.

But, as I did my reading this morning, I studied about the purpose of my life ....which turned my thoughts a little deeper this morning.....why did God create me and what does He have planned for me? One of His plans is for me to be like HIM. And Matthew, the tax collecter (of all people) lol, said that when Jesus saw a large crowd gathered, He had compassion on them. (Matt. 14:14). This Greek word used for compassion, is splanchnizomai which means "study of the....gut" (in our terms). So, when Jesus saw this crowd, His compassion wasn't just a little pity party, where one feels sorry for another in passing, but Jesus felt their hurt right in His gut! He felt the loss of the grieving, He felt the limp of the crippled, He felt the loneliness of the town leper, He felt the confusion of the teenager....you get the idea. He was so into their hurt, that His own needs or desires were put on the backburner. How often do I do that myself??

That gave me pause to think. What hurting people are in my small world? Who do I see in my church that is struggling, in my neighborhood, in my circle of people I see daily...or weekly or monthly? Do I take time to notice them? I am a busy person...we all are busy these days. TOO busy! If I am to be like Him, I need to take time out of my wants and needs and look to others. It was Christ's prayer request at the end of Matthew 9 for people to go out and find the hurting. Whether that is to a hurt believer or to someone who doesn't know Him yet....am I on the lookout for those He puts in my path? My "mission" for this day? His purpose for me?

Yes, it is beautiful out today....Kristin comes home in 2 days, this is my first day at home in 2 weeks, there are many things to write about....but instead...I think I will just ponder for awhile and pray that my eyes are open to what's in front of me....so that I won't miss it!!!

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MyHeritage: Family trees - Genealogy - Celebs - Collage - Morph

Fletcher Look-alike Meter

MyHeritage: Family trees - Genealogy - Celebrities - Collage - Morph