Ode to My Sisters

My youngest sister is awesome!  She works in College Administration taking on responsibilities that really should be delegated to someone else, but she does them joyfully, anyway.  She can plan a party for a thousand or a wonderful dinner for two.  She has learned to decorate cakes, makes gingerbread houses, creates all kinds of crafty things and has a theme for everything!

She organizes neighborhood get-togethers, takes friends the produce of her culinary talents, keeps a pictorial diary of her life and publishes it on Cozi so we can all share in her adventures as well!

Her home is always immaculate, gorgeously decorated for each season, and has seen many a gathering of happy friends and family.

I love her because.... she is my baby sister and she is awesome!

My younger sister is awesome!  She can create anything, given the availability of materials.  She can run a huge quilting machine or put a tiny quilt block together.  She can plan a child's party for a princess or a dragon slayer and make each child feel the part.  She also, has a theme for everything.

She can create beautiful Homecoming Mums, a wedding gown, or a tutu for a Fairy Princess.   Her quilts are gorgeous and she keeps her family wrapped in the warmth of her love.

Her personality keeps me laughing whenever I am around her and her quick wit is amazing.  Always willing to do anything and go anywhere, she is the life of any gathering and she can be found by following her wonderful laugh.

I love her because .... she is my younger sister and she is awesome!

The Summons for Grand Jury Duty, a Poem

 Was the week 'fore Reunion while cleaning the place,

The fan blades (yes, Mandy), the carpets and drapes,

Washing windows and curtains, sheets and bedspreads

Planning menus and shopping lists from dishrags to breads.

I moved bookcases, dusted and watered the lawn,

Like a wild woman, I was just getting things done!

Guess the B12 was kicking in big time because..

Like a whirlwind I moved through the house without pause.

Was down to the final days of preparation and then...

I noticed an envelope...long, white and thin

In the mail with my paper, some bills and a pencil.

I read my name on the front...big, bold and official.

It came unexpectedly, not at all a good time!

I opened it up and read line by line....

For Grand Jury Duty you're ordered "Appear!"

The day 'fore your reunion, You need to be here!

(You just gotta love God's timing!  Hope you enjoyed this attempt at humor of my situation!  I truly consider it my duty to serve, so we'll see.....)

Learning a Lesson About Old People

I really hate to say it, but I have never been comfortable around old people. It really isn't restricted to old people, either, because I just do not have any sympathy for those that won't help themselves. My experiences lately, however, have me on a road to a new understanding, especially toward the elderly.

We recently moved a close relative into the Care Center directly from a short hospital stay, without going back to her home. She did not respond well even though she made the choice to go.

I reacted badly to several fits that were thrown and swore I wouldn't go back to have to put up with that "abuse" when I was only trying to help. I am the "in law" after all and shouldn't have to put up with it.... Okay, I'm the primary care giver and somehow ended up making most of the decisions, but still...

Without going into the whole drama of it all, God put in my path a video of a "Letter from Mom & Dad," using a friend on Facebook to do so. I read through the "letter" crying most of the way. It really got me to thinking about the circumstances that brought this relative to the place where she is now and how hard it must be for her. I immediately sent it to my children, reposted it on Facebook and sent it to my mother and my sisters. I made my husband and my brother-in-law and his wife watch it, too.

My husband and I have a renewed patience and desire to make things better for her as well as a desire to really listen to her, not just pretend to listen to her. My mother says that she hopes I learn from this experience, so when its her turn, I will have it down to an art!

A couple of days after coming to this realization, I had to take the relative to the doctor and instead of taking her back to the care center, we went out to eat, then later just sat in the car talking and dropped in on one of her friends to visit for a minute.

I found myself really listening for the first time about how things were affecting her and what her wishes were instead of thinking that I and the rest of her family knew best. After finding out what was really bothering her, we relaxed her diet and had the therapist set her up a schedule so she would know when to be ready as well as a couple of other changes. We still have to make hard choices, but at least I understand her better and she did a complete turnaround. Several of the staff even commented on it.

I sent this video to the Director of the Care Center and told her that she should make it required viewing of all new residents' families. It's pretty simple, really and may not touch anyone like it did me, but I know it was meant for me to see for this season of needing to learn to understand and to listen, hopefully resulting in that unconditional love that Jesus taught us. May you be as blessed as I was!

(The video is no longer available.)

In Honor of My Son, a Veteran

 I want to start off offering Gene's and my condolences and prayers for the families and friends of the soldiers and others that were killed yesterday at Ft. Hood.  We are keeping each injured person and their loved ones in our thoughts and prayers.  May God wrap you in His loving arms and comfort you......

With this Veteran's Day coming up, my thoughts have been on my son who is about to retire from the Navy.  I have been gathering pictures and memories trying to do my part in helping his wife get ready for his big retirement celebration next year.  With each picture that I come across, a memory comes with it, some happy and some tearful. 

I have to admit, when I was encouraging him to go into the Navy as a Senior in high school, it did not enter my mind that I wouldn't see him but every couple of years.  It never entered my mind that living in Texas was NOT close to a coast with a Navy base.

My memories have pretty much focused on the Iraq invasion, I guess because it was so traumatic for me.  We all went through the trauma of 9/11 and it was devastating, but when the invasion was taking place and all one could hear or see on television or radio was the embedded reporters' accounts of what was happening, it was like reaching out to touch a snowflake only to see it disappear into vapor.  We were able to see the soldiers, but not be there to give them encouragement or comfort....unable to get reassurance that all was well. 

(Since my son worked in an area of the submarine that was restricted and is unable to tell much about what he did, I'll tell how it affected me when he went to war.) 

All I could do was watch in horror as it all took place in front of me.  The television was on 24/7.  I "googled" everything I could about the area and the war.  I printed off maps and gathered news articles from local papers as well as the reports sent in by the embedded reporter on my son's sub.  I subscribed to newsletters from military websites.  I worried about submerged mines and wondered if Iraq had submarines of their own.  I helped to start a military support group, tied yellow ribbons on trees and poles and was part of a ceremony to present the Blue Star flags to families of military people involved in the war.  A friend said that I was "going with him"  in order to deal with the fear.  It was the only way that I could protect my precious child.  I cannot even imagine being the mother of one of the soldier's on land.

I feel for the families of those that were seen on television and the ones, like mine, that weren't.  My son was on a submarine.  Their location is always top secret.  I do have the proud knowledge that his submarine was the first one to fire all of their missiles and I was fortunate to be there to see his sub come in with a broom attached to the "sail" meaning that they made a "clean sweep."  Being there when that crew came into port was an awesome thing. 

We see the pictures of the heroes that came back from WWII and the confetti and bands and all of the people there to welcome them.  Well, with that picture in mind, add to it the anticipation of all as we waited for hours just to see a glimpse of the sub as it turned into the channel, the roar of applause and yells increasing as it got nearer, boats tooting their horns and spraying great streams of water, men and women shouting from their decks as they came through the channel and the tears and laughter of each person there.  We could feel the pride in the air as the sub made it's way to the slip where it docked and at last opened the hatch to unload their special cargo of sailors.  There was kissing and hugging everywhere. It was a true heroes welcome.

I am proud of all my sons, each one for different reasons, but today I honor this one for his 19 years of Navy service, for all he has had to give up, endure and experience.  Thank you, my precious son, for being you.

I hope that all of the soldiers and sailors get some kind of heroes welcome when they come home.  I use this Veteran's Day to humbly honor and extend my gratitude and America's gratitude to each man and woman that has served our country through each service, through each war or military action.  Salute!

A Last Good-Bye

Today a great man died. He wasn't known in the elite social circles among the rich and famous or in the political arena as a great statesman. He wasn't a CEO of a big corporation and he wasn't even a particularly big man physically. This man was considered great because of the code by which he lived his life.

A rare and wonderful trait was his love for Jesus Christ. Most people only talk about wanting to be like Christ, but few are successful to the point that it is noticeable to passersby. He was always mild mannered and soft spoken when I was around...always ready to help...always open to sharing his understanding of the Lord. Joy filled the air and we were drawn to him as a result.

I didn't know him as well as I would have liked to have known him, but my husband considers him to be the man who shaped his walk with Christ. A famous quote says to "spread the gospel and occasionally use words." Evidently, the quote was about him.

His children were raised with the guiding light of the Lord and they have carried on the legacy with their own amazing families proving God's promise for obedience by the blessings that have been bestowed on them.

We have all been blessed by knowing this man in one way or another. We pray that God will comfort this family as they go through this time of great sorrow.

We will miss you Uncle Lowell.

Texan or Southern? A Bit about Me

Can a true Texas woman be an authentic Southern Belle? I always considered myself to be a Southern Belle, but to be a true Southern Belle, I would have to agree that I could just as well have been raised in South Carolina or Georgia. Not going to happen!!! My Texas roots are just too deep! No Southern Belle can compete with a true Texas woman anyway.

My sisters and I were brought up in Texas, which is considered the South by many parts of the country and admittedly, do honor many of the traditional ways of Southern women. Of course, we are not from the Old South like Atlanta, New Orleans, or Charleston; nor would we want to be.


We, like most women of my generation and older, are proud to be Texan, even more so than Southern. After all, Texas is where "men are men and women are senators and governors!" Our mothers made sure we were self-sufficient.


Our self-sufficiency was not due to any lack of "man" power. It was, rather a place where we needed to be so that we could survive even the harshest conditions whether they were economic, physical, emotional or even right alongside our men sharing in the labors of our "harvests".


My mother had survived with her mother and 4 sisters on a small government check after the sudden death of her father at the end of the Depression when she was 12 years old. They lived several miles in the country in a board house patched with tin can lids and an outhouse, no car and no indoor plumbing, walked to a one room school house down the road in the only pair of shoes they got that year for school. They literally wore dresses made from flour sacks. They ate biscuits with weevils in the flour because that's what they had. A neighbor would take my grandmother to town for groceries once per month. These 6 brave, strong women were tough. They survived with hard work, helping each other and doing without a lot that we take for granted.


I often thought that my mother just did not trust men, so she taught me to do whatever I had to do or it would not get done. There just were not any male or female roles. Well, the more I learn about my mother, the more respect that I have for her. She not only taught me to survive, she instilled pride in who I was and a love of family.


My mother has taken the world to raise, it seems sometimes. I can get so jealous of her at times because she is so giving and I am not, then at other times, I'm so awed by her because she is so giving and never asks for anything in return. I know she has been let down by many people, me included, but she is a real heroine to me.


She taught me that I can do anything, that I can be the leader or the follower and either one is okay as long as I do a good job. She taught me that I can take the dryer apart, fix it and put it back together, that I can change my own oil and my own flats. Those things are expensive so I learned to do them as a young mother trying to save money. My mother will tell you to this day that there is no one that can live on as little as I can when I have to do so. Well, that's her teaching me how to take care of myself and my family without having to depend on anyone else when I have to do it.


Being the wife of a Texas rancher (we have 6 cows, a bull and 5 calves, so it's a little ranch) I have had to step up and take care of things while the husband is away on business during the week. We have a neighbor's bull, fighting with our bull over, under and through the barbed wire fence on a regular basis. I have learned to stretch and repair barbed wire and how to shoot a 410 with one hand while driving the Mule with the other chasing the bull back through the gate. I can tell within a week when a calf is going to be born and I can use a post driver. I can drive the tractor and pull a hay rake or a mower. I have fixed a leaky waterer in the dog pen and shot copperheads on the back porch. I load and unload feed and hay and have put round bales out for the cows with the front end loader. I'm not bragging about all these things, but if my mother had not instilled the "can do" attitude in me, I don't know what we would do. We sure could not afford to pay someone.


Mother also taught me how to set a "proper" table, cook the appropriate casseroles for funerals and social gatherings, and not to wear white shoes before Easter or after Labor Day. I can throw a "theme" party if I have to and yes, I can make the punch match the color of the theme. She made sure I knew to use crystal pitchers, real dinnerware and not paper plates or plastic forks and yes, I own a deviled egg plate (3 actually!)
 

Many people think that because women stay home and do not work outside jobs that they are pretty much worthless to society, but let me tell you some of the women I know in  Texas.....are not afraid of work. Not only do they take care of the kids, the house, the yard and can throw a great party, they will get right out there beside their men, put their leather gloves on and unload a truckload of 70 lb. bales of hay, with a baby on one hip and homemade bread in the oven....well, not literally. (The baby was probably in his stroller.)


Along with the teaching of our mothers and fathers, our Texas pride permeates not just its women, but the men as well. How else would you explain the swagger and the stature of our men here in this part of the country? Don't you feel a little taller when you tell someone from another state that you are from Texas? A little bolder...a little more self-confident? Aren't you a little prouder to be from Texas?


My Iowa born husband has commented several times, "like the saying goes, 'I wasn't born in Texas, but I got here as fast as I could!'" and as a 5th generation Texan, I have to admit, he's adapted really well so I guess he's past the "Damn Yankee" stage and I'll let him stay.

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