Reminiscing

There it was again...another one of those "life just doesn't get any better than this" spontaneous moments.

Late summer, special little girl, flowered pink dress, grapes in the grass...

...you get the picture...and what a precious picture it is.  Do you think Elli will remember the moment? 

I have been thinking since writing my previous post that, in spite of my dreary ramblings then, my memory has indeed been a wonderful thing.  I have been blessed to collect a garden of precious moments myself. 

Just a few I thought of today:

-the excitement of delivering a May Day basket to my friend when I was just Elli's age-

-the joy of sitting on my bed listing a series of letters I had learned in first grade, while my big brother told me the made-up words I was making-

-how beautiful I felt on Christmas Eve when my Grandpa saw me coming down the staircase-

-how happy I was to get my first two-wheeler-

Oh, those are just a few happy moments from my childhood, which are forever etched in my mind.

And I cannot neglect moments from my grown-up life either, such as:

-the moment I first told Mr. Jorie that I loved him...we were on the campus of ISU close to the fine arts building-

-the joy and fulfillment I felt when I found out I was pregnant with my first child following years of infertility...appropriately, my friend Lonna was with me-

-the moment that I realized God had carried me through an intensely serious medical crisis-

-how I felt the first time I held my granddaughter and then my grandson-

No doubt I could sit at my computer for days on end and remember with joy and love the good times of my life. And perhaps that thought is what I will focus on, even though my memory is able to bring up those sad and difficult times of life.  I can choose to let those painful thoughts come and go quickly, and  I can use them to help me realize how beautiful, and how numerous, the happy memories are. 

There are so many moments each day worth cherishing.  I will continue to look for those...

...those precious "grapes in the grass" moments.

Forgetfulness

Why is it that I can remember when I fell and scraped my knee while on the way to my friend Sandy's house when I was five, but I can't remember why I walked from the bedroom into the kitchen?


Why is it that I can remember how I felt when my sixth grade teacher wrongly accused me of cheating, but I can't remember where I put my purse?


Why is it that I can remember how lonely I felt when my college roommate went home for the year, but I can't remember why I stopped at Walgreen's?


Why is it that I can remember the pain of a dislocated hip and the horrible incompetence surrounding my care, but I can't remember a simple word when it is on the tip of my tongue?


Why is it that I can remember how I felt when my children didn't get along, but I can't remember which street I meant to turn onto?




Of course there is that short-term memory thing all of us Baby Boomers are becoming too familiar with, but there is more to it than that.


Oh how I wish I could choose what to remember and what to forget.

I would not hold onto all of those painful experiences any more if I could just wish them away.

And of course, I would remember where I put my keys so as not to become frustrated with myself for being so stupid.

But life isn't like that is it? Memories of hurts tend to stay with us. But I suppose what is important is how we handle those thoughts that haunt us.

If someone has wronged me, I eventually get to that place of forgiveness, but I think God lets me remember the situation so I can grow in wisdom.

And, as for looking for the keys--God must certainly be teaching me patience.

Where am I going with the thoughts in my blog today? Oh, you see, I have already forgotten...


...bless you for remembering to read my wanderings and my wonderings.

...and bless you for remembering to remember me with love just the same as I remember you.

Babyhood

Satin and Pink

Today I found my baby book which had been packed away for many years. With a slight musty smell and pages a bit yellowed, the sixty-one year old book rested in my lap.

As I began to open the cover, the person who came to mind was my dear mother.

She is the person who purchased the book and wrote in it, keeping meticulous records of height and weight, family linage, first words, immunizations, accidents and illnesses, places visited...and of course the photographs of a baby girl and then a toddler girl and then a kindergarten girl.

What was my mother thinking when she was pregnant with me? The war had just ended, my Daddy was home and a little boy (my big brother) already filled the house with laughter and fun.

I know she was hoping for a baby girl. She has told me so. The year was 1947 and she often tells the story that I was actually six weeks late in coming...due in August, but not born until October.

As I paged through the book I thought of her and her hopes and dreams for me when I was just a tiny new person. I can imagine the love she felt when she first held me because I have held my own newborns. I know just how she felt dressing me in a pretty, soft pink dress because I have three daughters of my own. I can indeed imagine the hopes and dreams she had for me, because of course, some things never change, but rather go on from generation to generation.

A small envelope with a locket of my hair fell from the book. It was such a strange feeling to touch and see the hair that was mine when I was so young. I pictured my mother trimming the little curl from a squiggly little girl. The thought made me smile. I can just see her searching for the tiny envelope and then labeling it, "Linda's hair 18 months."

A surreal feeling came over me as I realized how priviledged I am to be the fulfillment of her longings for a girl to love and raise. I hope that I have indeed been worthy of that love and have been able to pass that love on to my children and now my grandchildren.

I know that whenever she thinks of me she sees beauty. She tells me so. I am blessed to have her so near and I am blessed to have her so able and lovely at age 86. And you know, whenever I think of her I see beauty. Oh, the circle of life is an amazing thing isn't it.

Chubby knees and baby teeth, big brown eyes and dresses with lace, rosey cheeks and teddy bears, lullabies and a rocking chair, first words and first steps, hair ribbons and baby dolls--the dreams for a baby girl complete. I feel the joy today that my mother must have felt when she kept this special book about me, just for me. I imagine it was one of the most delightful tasks of her young motherhood. I wonder if she can imagine just how much her record keeping now means to me.

Thanks Mother Dear for being so dear.

Thanks for dreaming, thanks for loving, thanks for holding, thanks for caring...

... and thanks for all the memories...the ones in the old satin book and the ones in my heart.

I love you and I love being your baby girl.

Contentment

Do you have those moments?

Do you have those moments when you know that life is just as good as it gets?

I had one of those moments today while watching two little girls share a cupcake on my front porch.

The moments where I feel the most contentment are glimpses of something so pure that I am aware of a feeling of peace deep inside of myself and with life in general.

These moments may be at the time of a celebration. A recent moment I remember was on the day my daughter graduated with her master's degree. I looked down at her newborn son asleep on my lap, with a soft pale baby blue blanket snuggled around him, and I knew that this was absolutely one of those "life just doesn't get any better than this" moments.

More often I find that these special moments just appear at the most surprising times, not necessarily at a celebration or holiday. The one today with the cupcake was a moment of pure sweetness. There was only one cupcake and it needed to be shared. Breaking it apart caused it to crumble in my hands as two little girls each excitedly grabbed parts of chocolate cake with white icing and of course sprinkles. I licked icing from my fingers and my soul smiled. The moment came and went quickly, but it was worth a million dollars.

Other times I have declared under my breath, "life just doesn't get any better than this" when my world is chaotic and spinning with lots of activity. A time when the family was gathered together recently following a busy day, with out-of-town relatives joining the local group was just such a time. That special moment came when my youngest daughter sat down on her chair and it collapsed beneath her. The room was soon filled with laughter. Now as I try to explain to you why this moment is one that touched my soul, you would have to know how much each family member means to me, what the coming together meant to my heart, how we love to tease each other and laugh--you would have to know that and so much more to understand that life was as good as it gets at that very moment.

Do you have any "good as it gets" moments in your life? Are you blessed to have those little reminders of how precious life is? Does the gift of contentment appear most unexpectedly during those times when your heart feels a special rush; when you know that you want to keep going on to see what comes next in life; when your soul smiles joyfully while you silently say to yourself, "life just doesn't get any better that this!"

If so, you are blessed. I know for certain that I am. Even as I write tonight I realize that it is with some difficulty I try to recall the details of so many of those past moments, and I believe that must be why they are so special when they come and steal softly across my heart and mind and then disappear from my memory. As I then find that place of contentment inside of me where all the moments rest forever, there is no need to be able to recall them all. The moments come and go just like a butterfly landing on a flower petal--beautiful, almost breathless to behold, but soon gone, leaving a bit of heaven in their wake.

There we were last weekend...four sixty-some-year old-women, all with painted toenails, stretching our toes out from the water in the hot tub....giggling like we were twelve-year-olds, at the sight of forty brightly painted toenails lined up in a row. Yep, that was one of those moments when I cherished the gift of knowing that life just doesn't get any better than this.

Youth

Sometimes it is good to be a kid again. Leaving the world of adulthood behind, I recently spent three days with three young people at the happiest place on the planet--Disney World.

I have been to Disney many times, and in fact am one of those grownups who has always loved anything Disney. I believe it goes back to my childhood when I heard about the opening of Disneyland and then would watch the "Wonderful World of Color" on TV and eagerly look forward to seeing what land we would visit....vicariously, that is....each Sunday night.

I remember with happiness the first time I went to Disney World. My three children were five, seven and nine, but I was the biggest kid of all. The magic was everywhere...for them and for me and for Mr. Jorie too. I have been to Disney many times since then, both in California and Florida, and I am filled with anticipation of the fun to be had each time a trip is planned.

I could explain the photos above or you can just let your imagination run wild. My daughter along with two of her friends, very likable young men, pushed me around all day (in a wheelchair that is) and called me, "Crazy Linda." They had all been (or are currently) employed by Disney and know the parks well. It was amazing to be a part of their world for those three fun-filled (no, I mean joy-filled) days!

Queue lines and handicapped access, twizzlers and hamburgers, water rides and thrill rides, characters and real-live characters, smiles and laughter...and then the four of us crashing at our hotel room at the end of a busy day brought pure and simple happiness into my life. The exhaustive and delightful joy of our time together was anticipated but not expected to be so soul-satisfying to this mature soul...who felt like a kid again for three days in August in the happiest place on earth.

Thanks for the memories...Mickey, Kelsey, Sully and Kelly...I love each of you!!!

Glory

Oh the moment!

Oh the moment when you know in your heart
that God has sent a message just for you.

Recently, I was blessed in such a way.

I know that I should not question God, but there are times, actually many times, when I do just that.

I was driving home from a visit to the medical center at the University of Chicago...a place I visit quite often. The hour-long drive often gives me time for solitude and reflection. Questions about treatments and diagnoses, therapy and recommendations often lead me into my quiet times.

On this particular day I asked, "God, I need to know that you are real and that you care about me....could you please give me a sign?" I know, I know, I should not have to ask that question even once, let alone at repeated intervals throughout life, but I did ask...in faith, I asked.

Well, when you are driving down the Dan Ryan expressway during the evening rush hour, where does one look for a sign from God? Other than the billboards and the other cars whizzing around me, I decided to look up...up into the heavens. I saw a blue sky filled with billowing white clouds, not unlike those pictured above. In the sky, as I glanced for a sign, I saw two cylindrical clouds standing out in front of the others and I thought to myself, that does not really look like anything. You know, usually you can pick out something like a rabbit or dog
flying across the sky, but all I could focus on were the two oblong shapes in front of the other clouds.

I continued driving, almost scolding myself for being foolish enough to ask God for this special favor and then thinking that He would take time out of his busy day to give me a sign of His presence.

I have come to realize that just when we think God is not able or does not care about our longing for Him, something amazing can happen. On that day, God spoke directly to me, and this is how He did it...

...I was listening to Christian music. In fact a CD my daughter had made for me many years ago had recently been found in my cabinet and I had been playing it for a few days. Thus I had recently heard the songs over and over. Probably one of the most familiar songs, and definitely the oldest melody on the CD was, "It is well with my Soul." Those verses were heard by me since I was a child. Why then, on this day, when I needed to hear from God, did I finally hear the complete lyrics of the last verse?

My conversation with God went something like this:

And Lord haste the day when my faith shall be sight. I had always heard that phrase Lord...in fact it has been one of my favorite thoughts, knowing that some day my faith would be fulfilled. I wouldn't be burdened by doubt or fear ever again.

The clouds be rolled back as a scroll. Oh, my goodness, I had never, ever heard that line in the song. The clouds...oh yes, those magnificent white clouds I just saw. A scroll, you said a scroll--oh my, that is what I saw in the clouds...a scroll opening. Oh my Lord, you have answered my prayer. You cared about me so much today that you wanted me to know that you are there, that you love me and that you care about me every minute of the day. You wanted to comfort me today and reassure me that you are who you say you are. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

For me the remainder of the ride home was glorious! I sang along with the tunes on the CD praising God for his special blessing to me that day.

There may be skeptics out there who will never believe that God speaks at all...or especially that he speaks to individuals just driving down the expressway. I believe that God speaks to us in so many ways each and every day that we only need to open our eyes to see and our ears to listen, and yes, I believe He can speak to me personally just as he did on the day described here.

I was ready to hear from God that day.
I was a seeker.
My heart was open.
I was blessed and reassured and felt loved with a heavenly love.

Even on the busy, dirty, congested, littered Dan Ryan, I found God's glory!
Amazingly He can show His love anywhere.

Keep seeking.
You won't be disappointed.

Mommy

I remember the first time someone called me Mom. I was in the pediatrician's office with my one-month-old son, and one of the nurses called

me "Adam's Mom." I suddenly realized that yes, I was indeed someone's mom. I remember the moment and have cherished the thought ever since, just as I have cherished every minute of being someone's mom.

Blessed exceedingly to have four someone's use the title when referring to me, I continue to hold dear the concept even now as they are all adults. As long as I live, I will be their mom. What a high calling! What an amazing responsibility.

Even before the nurse called me Adam's mom, a friend in church, upon seeing my newborn, remarked, "Do you realize that you have just committed yourself for the next eighteen years?" Oh, she was so wrong. I lovingly and deliberately committed myself for a lifetime.

I have often said that a picture is worth a thousand words and the two above tell it all when it comes to showing my delight and satisfaction in holding my children forever, and the sheer contentment that fills me when I am with them.

When I hear the words, "Mommy" or "Mom" I immediately perk up and listen. One of my four someones needs my attention. The thirty-three year old someone, and all of his sisters need me each in their own way--and I love being needed.

Meeting their needs is sometimes so much fun, but sometimes it is challenging. I praise God for the good times and seek His guidance in the difficult time, however I never stop trying to be everything my children need.

There is such joy in this job of being a mom...

...and now I am blessed to be called another name...

...and that is "Grandma"...

...although my little Elli girl has descriptively made the name even more special when, from a very early age, she has called me "Own Gwamma."

I am blessed, oh, yes, I am blessed.