Ever since Mom moved south and is closer to my family, we have gone up on Christmas Eve and spent the night. We usually get in late that evening because my husband works retail and he has to close the store before we can leave. Everything will be packed in the car and ready so that when he gets home we just have to drive up to Mom's. My sister and her family will already be there and excitement is in the air as we relish the time of being together. Mom's house is all decorated with a real tree that smells of pine. The tree has homemade ornaments made by Mom, Gram, my sister and I. The lights glow softly amidst the branches and instrumental Christmas Carols play.
Christmas morning we awake early to make our way into the living room with the children for presents. Gram and Uncle John come over as well and for a while there is mass confusion as we are opening presents and ooooooing and ahhhhhhing over them. Wrapping paper litters the floor and presents are scattered around everyone. Some years the presents are home made ones, other years they are store bought. Each year brings a mixture of laughter and tears of gladness as we exclaim over the gifts.
We take the time to sing Happy Birthday to Jesus and say a prayer of thanks that He came to earth for us.
Many years my children didn't get to enjoy Christmas in such a manner because family lived so far away. I am so glad that we get to spend time with my mother, my stepfather and my grandmother while my kids get to enjoy it as well. I pray for many more of these years to come.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Monday, October 5, 2009
Childhood memories
Today I was talking with one of my coworkers about when I grew up. She is of my daughter's generation and doesn't remember a time when mothers didn't go outside of the home to work. I told her about growing up and having Daddy work and Mama stayed home, how I didn't know what store bought cookies were until I went to school, and how I thought we were poor because we didn't have everything that others had.
I know she couldn't imagine a life without cable tv or cell phones. It was so funny because I know that my children have been raised very similarly to the way I was. For years we didn't have cable television in our household... either as a child or as an adult raising my own children. There is a difference however. In my childhood home we got ABC and that was all. In my adult home we could usually pull in PBS but my children had plenty of videos they were able to watch to help keep entertained.
When I was growing up we went outside to play a good deal and used our imaginations or sat under a tree and read a book. I remember playing "Little House on the Prairie" with the neighbors and the log cabin play house we had in our back yard. We used to take sand and rocks and acorns and mix them up to make "cake". We would play jumprope and one of us would turn the rope that was tied at one end to the telephone pole while the others would jump. We would gather all the kids in the neighborhood and play redlight greenlight and mother may I or Simon Says. We all got along fairly well despite the age differences we had.
As my children have grown, they didn't spend a lot of time outside. There were times when it wasn't safe for them to play. We struggled to make ends meet and didn't always live in the best of neighborhoods. Of course by the time we did live in a better area where they could be outside, it was almost always too dark for them to be out once we were at home. My husband and I both had to work to make ends meet and the children went to afterschool care where they got their homework finished and waited for one of us to come get them. Now these same children are teens and they have many things that keep them busy... very little of it involves being outside. However one of the other things that I have instilled in my children is a love of books. My son doesn't read as much as my daughter does but both will read every book of a series if it is an author that catches their attention.
I look at life as it is now and wonder if my children have lost out on anything by not playing the childhood games with neighbor children. I don't think that they have but I think times were simpler when I was growing up than they are now. I have to wonder if life wouldnt be better if we could return to that simpler time and place.
I know she couldn't imagine a life without cable tv or cell phones. It was so funny because I know that my children have been raised very similarly to the way I was. For years we didn't have cable television in our household... either as a child or as an adult raising my own children. There is a difference however. In my childhood home we got ABC and that was all. In my adult home we could usually pull in PBS but my children had plenty of videos they were able to watch to help keep entertained.
When I was growing up we went outside to play a good deal and used our imaginations or sat under a tree and read a book. I remember playing "Little House on the Prairie" with the neighbors and the log cabin play house we had in our back yard. We used to take sand and rocks and acorns and mix them up to make "cake". We would play jumprope and one of us would turn the rope that was tied at one end to the telephone pole while the others would jump. We would gather all the kids in the neighborhood and play redlight greenlight and mother may I or Simon Says. We all got along fairly well despite the age differences we had.
As my children have grown, they didn't spend a lot of time outside. There were times when it wasn't safe for them to play. We struggled to make ends meet and didn't always live in the best of neighborhoods. Of course by the time we did live in a better area where they could be outside, it was almost always too dark for them to be out once we were at home. My husband and I both had to work to make ends meet and the children went to afterschool care where they got their homework finished and waited for one of us to come get them. Now these same children are teens and they have many things that keep them busy... very little of it involves being outside. However one of the other things that I have instilled in my children is a love of books. My son doesn't read as much as my daughter does but both will read every book of a series if it is an author that catches their attention.
I look at life as it is now and wonder if my children have lost out on anything by not playing the childhood games with neighbor children. I don't think that they have but I think times were simpler when I was growing up than they are now. I have to wonder if life wouldnt be better if we could return to that simpler time and place.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
The man just down the hall
Many years ago a vocal artist sang a song about the man living just down the hall and how she barely knew him. She was singing about her father. When I hear this song I have so many emotions. I feel so blessed because I knew and still know my father. He was there while I grew up both in presence and in spirit. He was part of my life and still is. He made time for the 5 of us children whether it was allowing us to walk his mail route with him or playing with us at the beach or taking us to the movies. He was there. The man this song brings to mind is my grandfather.
My Grampa Beebe was also a big part of my life. He was quiet... often reading his paper when we would visit. He had a big smile and bright eyes that shone with a sparkle when we were around. He and Gramma attended the concerts and plays that we kids would have at school and when I was a young teen, he began attending the church where Dad took us. I can remember the Christmas that we received gifts Grampa made for us. I received a set of white bunk beds for my dolls. Grampa had made them and Gramma made the mattresses and little quilts to go on them. I still have them 35 years later. Erinne received a cradle for her dolls... also painted white and containing a mattress and quilt from Gramma. Tim's gift that year was a red wooden wheelbarrow. Grampa was a caller for square dances and I remember times when music was playing and he would dance in the living room and try to teach us children to follow his calls. What a blessing to have this good man in my life.
Often when I hear Reba singing "Man just down the Hall" I think of my Grampa and how it seemed I barely knew him. He was taken from us far too soon. I was 17 when he passed away. I wish he could have seen me graduate and get married and have kids. I know that he would have enjoyed the children my siblings and cousins and I have had. I know he is up in heaven and looking down towards earth sometimes. I know he chuckles and his eyes are bright with laughter at the antics that come up in our lives sometimes. And I know that he is aware how much we loved him!
My Grampa Beebe was also a big part of my life. He was quiet... often reading his paper when we would visit. He had a big smile and bright eyes that shone with a sparkle when we were around. He and Gramma attended the concerts and plays that we kids would have at school and when I was a young teen, he began attending the church where Dad took us. I can remember the Christmas that we received gifts Grampa made for us. I received a set of white bunk beds for my dolls. Grampa had made them and Gramma made the mattresses and little quilts to go on them. I still have them 35 years later. Erinne received a cradle for her dolls... also painted white and containing a mattress and quilt from Gramma. Tim's gift that year was a red wooden wheelbarrow. Grampa was a caller for square dances and I remember times when music was playing and he would dance in the living room and try to teach us children to follow his calls. What a blessing to have this good man in my life.
Often when I hear Reba singing "Man just down the Hall" I think of my Grampa and how it seemed I barely knew him. He was taken from us far too soon. I was 17 when he passed away. I wish he could have seen me graduate and get married and have kids. I know that he would have enjoyed the children my siblings and cousins and I have had. I know he is up in heaven and looking down towards earth sometimes. I know he chuckles and his eyes are bright with laughter at the antics that come up in our lives sometimes. And I know that he is aware how much we loved him!
Friday, May 1, 2009
Being Thankful
In these days of recession and job cutbacks you would think that I would be glad to just have a job. I am thankful for that. I remind myself of the fact each time I feel super stressed or when I come home in tears for the umpteenth time since starting this job over 9 years ago.
I like what I do.... I like dealing with the challenges and getting out of the house and being around people. What I don't like is being yelled at or expected to do the work of 5 people. I don't like having to do the same thing every day five or six times over because either someone didn't listen the first time or else it wasn't handled properly to begin with. I don't like the stresses of trying to get everything done in an eight hour day or not getting calls back when I leave messages.
There are times when I think I would take any other job out there if only I could leave what I have. Then I think again..... I have worked in McDonalds. I don't like that at all. I have worked doing retail. I could do that again if I had to but really like having a desk job. I have been a waitress. I am too old to do that again at this point in life. I think that job is something that is meant to be done by the young. I have been a baby sitter.... I don't think I would have the patience to do it anymore unless it was for very young childer and no one could afford to pay me to do it anymore. At 41 years old I dont' think there are many jobs out there for me. I don't think many places would hire me on to learn to do what many teens are willing to learn for minimum wage and no benefits.
I am thankful to have a job.... I keep reminding myself of that. Besides I really don't want to be the person that needs to clean up behind the elephants at the circus.... what a mess that is. I will deal with the mess I have already thanks!
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Family
My mother blogs and is a much better writer than I am. Her blog today was about Grandmothers. It got me thinking about how the women in a family influence a child and how much they can mean in a child's life.
I had two grandmothers while I was growing up. Gramma Beebe was almost a daily part of my early years. She was quiet and busy. She'd sit on her end of the couch working on a craft project while Grampa sat on his end reading the paper and sipping iced tea. Gramma was always the one that refilled his glass. Some may have seen that as wrong... I always saw it as done out of love for him. She had a servant's heart... gentle and mild. Gram never scolded and always had a soft smile and answer. I wanted to be like her when I grew up.
Nanny was my father's mother. We saw her on holidays mostly even though she lived fairly close. I remember thinking how tough she was and that I was scared of making her angry. I never did see her angry I just for some reason was scared to make her so. She had a gentle side to her I learned when I was a little older. She loved us just as deeply as Gram did. Nanny showed it a little differently is all. She proudly wore the bright green, mis-shapen slippers I crochetted her when I was in 6th grade. She did so because I had made them for her. They weren't something she would have picked for herself by any means but I had made them and therefore she loved them.
I was blessed as well by having aunts in my life. The roll of aunt is an important one as she is able to be more of a friend than mommy can be. My mother didn't have sisters but Gramma did. Her sisters, Aunt Puddy and Aunt Sissy were a large part of my life.
Aunt Puddy attended the same church we did. I spent many a Sunday sitting beside her while she praised the Lord above. She had the quiet faith that I saw my Gram having. Aunt Puddy loved the beach and the sunshine. Many times in the summer we would go to the bay to swim and she would already be there. She always had a smile for us. I lost her while I was in junior high and I felt her loss deeply. Despite having children and grandchildren of her own she always had time for her great neices and nephews.
Aunt Sissy was a little woman with a huge heart. She didn't have any children of her own but loved on all her great neices and nephews. I remember well the year my girl scout meetings were down the road from her house. I would leave my meeting and walk to Aunt Sissy's where one of two things would happen: Dad would pick me up after work OR I would have dinner with her and my cousin Butch. I enjoyed the evenings I was allowed to stay. I would help make dinner by preparing the salad. Aunt Sissy taught me to make radish rosettes. When I went overseas as a teenager, Aunt Sis would write notes and cards to let me know that I was missed. I regret that I wasn't as faithful about writing as she was. She kept each letter that I did send though. Gram found them when Aunt Sis passed on. I have several things that she gave me while she was alive. I cherish those items because they are what I have left to remember a wonderful woman.
I hope that when my neices are old and greying like I am now, they will think of me with the fondness that I think of these older women who were such a part of making me the person I am now.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
The ME attitude
The ME attitude comes from people believing that they are the most important people in this world. It is an attitude of self entitlement and that the world owes everything to them. This attitude breaks down communications and puts walls in place of friendly behavior. It effects everyone around both in behaving in the same manner or in dealing with this behavior in others. It disappoints me to know that I am even guilty of having this attitude at times. I think though that since I am seeing it so much in others of late I am able to recognise that I am doing it and I strive to stop it.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Today I feel old!
Today a piece of my past came back into my life. It was a shock to realize that time didn't stay still. I have written before that I refuse to be old. I had it brought home to me that I indeed have gotten older.
When I was 14 I used to care for a trio of sisters. I believe that Marjorie was all of 5 and her sisters were 3 and 2 respectively. These girls were precious in my life. Marjorie was a blessing of helpfulness and caring. Vickie was the little cuddly one, and Melissa hated my guts. To be fair though,Melissa didn't really like anyone that wasn't her mama or daddy. Each day in the summer of my fourteenth year, I cared for these blond-haired, blue-eyed, bundles of energy. I would take them for walks down to the park and let them play. We would walk in the neighborhood and play ring around the rosie in the yard. We colored pictures to hang on the refrigerator for when their parents returned. It was a time of innocence and pleasure.
Later, as I travelled through my teenage years and these children grew, we attended the same church. Vickie wanted to sit with me most Sunday mornings during church service. To keep her occupied and quiet, I would have her copy Bible verses that I had already written out for her. She would do her best to copy the printed words out and do it neatly so that I would place a smile at the top of her page. Because Vickie would sit with me, Melissa came to trust me more. She would come and sit with me if Vickie was there too. She would copy verses as well. The greatest joy that came to me was the Sunday I walked into church and she came over and gave me a hug.
Marjorie loved being with me as well. She liked to tell me about school and what she had done. She would smile and talk as long as I would listen. She also would copy Bible verses that I had written out in script letters for her to practice. She would sit there with such concentration as she practiced those letters. Sometimes the letters were even, sometimes they were not but I think I got more out of watching her and her sisters copy those precious words than I got from the sermons our pastor had worked so hard on.
I got older and left my home town and my home church. I eventually went to college and met the man I would marry. I rarely went back to where I had started life, but would think of these little girls that had been a part of my growing up. When I thought of them though it was always as the cute and cuddly little girls that I had taken care of. I never brought them forward in my mind any further than Marjorie being 10 years old or so.
Today Marjorie found me on the computer. When I saw the name she goes by now, I almost refused the friendship request.... not realizing who it was. Instead, I took a chance and accepted, rationalizing that I could always delete it afterwards if it turned out to not be someone I actually knew. I went and looked and photographs she had posted. I still almost hit that delete button. I still didn't see the girl in the woman who looked out at me from the photo. The next photo I pulled up was of Marjorie with her daughters. There was something in her eyes that clicked and I looked closer. I saw Vicki in Marjorie's oldest daughter and Melissa in Marjorie's youngest. I saw the smile that Marjorie would give me each Sunday as I would stand and listen to her tell about her week.
"My" little girls are all grown now. Marjorie is married with two young girls of her own. I am looking forward to finding out what is going on in the lives of her and her sisters. I am so glad she asked me to be her friend. Life it turning still and moving forward.... but heavens I feel old today.
When I was 14 I used to care for a trio of sisters. I believe that Marjorie was all of 5 and her sisters were 3 and 2 respectively. These girls were precious in my life. Marjorie was a blessing of helpfulness and caring. Vickie was the little cuddly one, and Melissa hated my guts. To be fair though,Melissa didn't really like anyone that wasn't her mama or daddy. Each day in the summer of my fourteenth year, I cared for these blond-haired, blue-eyed, bundles of energy. I would take them for walks down to the park and let them play. We would walk in the neighborhood and play ring around the rosie in the yard. We colored pictures to hang on the refrigerator for when their parents returned. It was a time of innocence and pleasure.
Later, as I travelled through my teenage years and these children grew, we attended the same church. Vickie wanted to sit with me most Sunday mornings during church service. To keep her occupied and quiet, I would have her copy Bible verses that I had already written out for her. She would do her best to copy the printed words out and do it neatly so that I would place a smile at the top of her page. Because Vickie would sit with me, Melissa came to trust me more. She would come and sit with me if Vickie was there too. She would copy verses as well. The greatest joy that came to me was the Sunday I walked into church and she came over and gave me a hug.
Marjorie loved being with me as well. She liked to tell me about school and what she had done. She would smile and talk as long as I would listen. She also would copy Bible verses that I had written out in script letters for her to practice. She would sit there with such concentration as she practiced those letters. Sometimes the letters were even, sometimes they were not but I think I got more out of watching her and her sisters copy those precious words than I got from the sermons our pastor had worked so hard on.
I got older and left my home town and my home church. I eventually went to college and met the man I would marry. I rarely went back to where I had started life, but would think of these little girls that had been a part of my growing up. When I thought of them though it was always as the cute and cuddly little girls that I had taken care of. I never brought them forward in my mind any further than Marjorie being 10 years old or so.
Today Marjorie found me on the computer. When I saw the name she goes by now, I almost refused the friendship request.... not realizing who it was. Instead, I took a chance and accepted, rationalizing that I could always delete it afterwards if it turned out to not be someone I actually knew. I went and looked and photographs she had posted. I still almost hit that delete button. I still didn't see the girl in the woman who looked out at me from the photo. The next photo I pulled up was of Marjorie with her daughters. There was something in her eyes that clicked and I looked closer. I saw Vicki in Marjorie's oldest daughter and Melissa in Marjorie's youngest. I saw the smile that Marjorie would give me each Sunday as I would stand and listen to her tell about her week.
"My" little girls are all grown now. Marjorie is married with two young girls of her own. I am looking forward to finding out what is going on in the lives of her and her sisters. I am so glad she asked me to be her friend. Life it turning still and moving forward.... but heavens I feel old today.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Artistic ability
I have been reading my mother's blog spots over the last few weeks since she began them. It never fails to amaze me how talent can be passed on from one person to another or how it may skip over people.
We have many talented people in our family. We like to craft in a variety of ways. My Grandmother makes many things out of what others might consider trash. She has created afghans both crochetted and knitted. I have one that I keep in my guest room that is a variety of small pieces made into squares and put together. She also makes quilts that are works of art. I learned today that she taught herself to knit. I have ornaments that she tatted or crochetted for me over the years and many other precious items she has created.
My mother is a wordsmith as well as an artist in other ways. She writes beautiful poetry and essays. She creates scrapbook albums with an artistic eye to color and detail. She also creates quilts and is able to crochet and knit. Added to this, she is able to draw and paint with skill. I am amazed at the work that she puts into items and yet she is able to appreciate items others create for her as well.
My sister creates quilts and wall hangings. She draws and paints and writes. She has so much imagination in what she does. I love to see the things she crafts.
The talent I call my own that no one else in the family does is cross stitch. I love that I am able to do something that takes time and energy but that none of the rest will ever create for themselves. I am able to quilt and crochet and I do quilling work as well. I don't have the creativity to draw or write well, but I am able to appreciate it in others.
My daughter is learning to sew on her sewing machine. I taught her to crochet many years ago and she is creative with it, comingup with items that I wouldn't have thought of. She writes stories and essays with an ease that I envy.
My son is an artist in his own right. He has his own style but draws well with charcoal pencil. He is also able to do origami that I think is incredible.
It is a blessing to see the ways that we all use the artistic abilities that have come to us. I am glad to have a variety of items that have been given over the years by the different artists in my family. I appreciate that I was deemed worthy of the gifts they created with their hands and minds!
We have many talented people in our family. We like to craft in a variety of ways. My Grandmother makes many things out of what others might consider trash. She has created afghans both crochetted and knitted. I have one that I keep in my guest room that is a variety of small pieces made into squares and put together. She also makes quilts that are works of art. I learned today that she taught herself to knit. I have ornaments that she tatted or crochetted for me over the years and many other precious items she has created.
My mother is a wordsmith as well as an artist in other ways. She writes beautiful poetry and essays. She creates scrapbook albums with an artistic eye to color and detail. She also creates quilts and is able to crochet and knit. Added to this, she is able to draw and paint with skill. I am amazed at the work that she puts into items and yet she is able to appreciate items others create for her as well.
My sister creates quilts and wall hangings. She draws and paints and writes. She has so much imagination in what she does. I love to see the things she crafts.
The talent I call my own that no one else in the family does is cross stitch. I love that I am able to do something that takes time and energy but that none of the rest will ever create for themselves. I am able to quilt and crochet and I do quilling work as well. I don't have the creativity to draw or write well, but I am able to appreciate it in others.
My daughter is learning to sew on her sewing machine. I taught her to crochet many years ago and she is creative with it, comingup with items that I wouldn't have thought of. She writes stories and essays with an ease that I envy.
My son is an artist in his own right. He has his own style but draws well with charcoal pencil. He is also able to do origami that I think is incredible.
It is a blessing to see the ways that we all use the artistic abilities that have come to us. I am glad to have a variety of items that have been given over the years by the different artists in my family. I appreciate that I was deemed worthy of the gifts they created with their hands and minds!
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Valentine's day this year
This year, my sweet husband brought me home a cd. It was by the group ABBA which really shows how old I am getting. I loved this group when I was growing up and was reminded of it when we recently watched the movie Mama Mia. I never would have gone out and found one of their cd's. I commented on the fact that I had loved their music back when I was growing up. I didn't even think he was listening.
He had to work yesterday so I spent the day pretty much on my own. When he returned last night to a dinner I was preparing for him, he walked in the door and then stopped. He looked frustrated and asked me if I minded going out to the car to get the roses he had forgotten on his seat. I scolded him about getting me flowers since I think they are way too expensive, but went out to the truck anyway. When I got there, I found two rose bushes. He had indeed bought me roses.... ones that would give to me year after year.
He had to work yesterday so I spent the day pretty much on my own. When he returned last night to a dinner I was preparing for him, he walked in the door and then stopped. He looked frustrated and asked me if I minded going out to the car to get the roses he had forgotten on his seat. I scolded him about getting me flowers since I think they are way too expensive, but went out to the truck anyway. When I got there, I found two rose bushes. He had indeed bought me roses.... ones that would give to me year after year.
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