Because someday…

I woke up feeling cranky that day.  I’m not sure why so I’ll chalk it up to a restless night’s sleep or strange dreams or something.

Later that morning when I began cleaning our master bathroom shower, the glass shower door came off the track. 

I fidgeted with it, fussing and fuming until finally I gave up because I still couldn’t get it seated properly.  And that caused me to be even grouchier.

Thinking a cup of hot tea would surely soothe the savage beast that seemed to rage inside me, I made my way to the kitchen.  Stepping into the dining room, I noticed the new curtains that I had just ironed the day before were wrinkly.  “Are you kidding me?”  I thought.  Grrr!

About that time, hubby came home from taking some of that ‘too much stuff’ from our basement hoard, which also makes me irritated, to the recycling center.  Not long after he stepped into the kitchen, I was growling about yet another issue.

“Wow, why are you so cranky?” he asked. “Get up on the wrong side of the bed?”

You know, when you’ve been married for 30 plus years, you should realize and remember what floats your spouse’s boat and also what just pushes his or her buttons.

And hubby was punching my buttons!  Or so it seemed to me.  The more he pushed, the more I griped and growled.

This unhappy sequence continued for most of the day.  And although he fixed the shower door and even finished cleaning the shower for me, and helped me hang the curtains, I still wanted to bite his head off.

Outside – with snow flurries in the middle of April for heaven’s sake!  – proved just as miserable and cold as it was inside. When hubby suggested we grab a burger for dinner, I balked.  I really didn’t want to go out on this very un-spring-like day and I’m certain I even complained about that.

But off we went anyway to a local fast food place.  On our way there, we argued in one of those ‘you misunderstood what  I meant’ kind of disagreements, and this time, hubby was the one who exhibited crabbiness.

Guess it became contagious. 

We ordered our burgers and sat in silence while we ate.  And that’s when I noticed them.

The two of them sat alone in a booth behind my husband.  I figured they were in their 80’s.  She sat directly beside him and talked softly to him as he slowly chewed his food.  She helped him lift his drink cup and maneuvered the straw in the direction of his mouth so he could sip his strawberry lemonade.

He was bothered by crumbs on his pants but couldn’t quite knock them off, so she did it for him.  She even wiped his runny nose.

And right there in the middle of that Wendy’s restaurant, I wanted to cry. 

I watched this married couple and the picture I witnessed was one of abiding love.  The gentleman obviously suffered from frail health; I’m guessing that he had endured a slight stroke.  He must have lost weight during his illness as well because he wore his wedding band, which matched his wife’s, on the middle finger of his left hand not his ring finger.

He answered slowly and quietly when his wife asked him something. And each time she came to his aid, he looked at her with gratitude.  In conjunction, she treated him with patience and kindness.

I don’t think anyone else in the restaurant noticed them except me.  As I sat there trying to swallow bites of hamburger around the huge lump in my throat and struggling not to let tears erupt, I knew I saw this couple for a reason.  On this very day.

Someday, ‘they’ might be ‘us.’  That’s what I thought.  And the image of a day that might come in the future moved me to conviction to be so very grateful for now.  This moment, this day.

All day I had been cantankerous with my husband.  My husband – the one I love – who is healthy and strong and good-hearted and willingly endures the likes of me.  And I knew deep in my heart and soul that he didn’t deserve the treatment I had just given him.

I’m certain that God revealed the scene that unfolded in front of my eyes to put a check in my spirit, to remind me to be grateful for my marriage partner, even if he does push my buttons.  And God reminded me that I need to season my words with grace and love and patience and kindness.

Because someday, we may be the old married couple sitting in a restaurant without our family along, tending to the other because one of us isn’t capable.   

When we arrived home, I tearfully asked my husband if he had seen them.   Yes, he had noticed them and he had one observation to make, “That’s what marriage is all about.”

On that best day of the year which started out so poorly, I was reminded why it’s important for me to remember love –  true honest to goodness love that lasts a lifetime for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish until death do us part. 

And I thank God for the lesson I learned. Thank you for this day.

©2013 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

  

Fall surprises

Surprise!  That’s the nice way I started my morning today in my book of Opportunity, Page 23 in Chapter 9.

A blogging buddy of mine Georgette Sullins bestowed the Versatile Blogger Award on me.  Thank you for thinking of me!  Georgette and I became friends way back in April when she commented on my Freshly Pressed post, When Nature Shows No Mercy .   I find Georgette’s blog always fascinating as she chronicles endearing stories to be saved and cherished for her family.

Since this is the first time I’ve been honored with the Versatile Blogger Award, I researched it to find there are rules to follow.   So here goes:

Rule #1 – Thank the award-giver and link back to them in your post.   (As the kids would say, Georgette, you rock!)

Rule #2 – Tell your readers seven (7) things about yourself.  (Prepare yourself, dear readers, these are very random!)

1. I launched this blog on a whim, partly because of the weird funk I found myself in after my last child graduated from college, snagged a job, and moved to the state next door, and I also I thought I’d work through the empty nest syndrome by writing about it.  But this blog has morphed into more than just an empty nest activity.  Writing again has given me great joy and I’ve met some delightful friends through blogging.
2. Hubby and I come from families with ‘three of a kind’ (I’m one of three sisters; he’s one of three brothers).  But we were dealt a ‘pair and a spare.’   After our two daughters, our third child was a boy.  We were so certain we were having another girl, we didn’t even have a boy’s name chosen!  Sonograms weren’t very definitive back then.
3. When I was a young girl, I dreamed of being famous.  (What little girl doesn’t?)  At first, I thought I’d be a legendary actress, but later I decided I’d be a renowned writer.  Hmmm…so far, my only claim to ‘fame’ might be my one-time freshly pressed experience.
4. I’ve experimented with a few different careers – teacher, newspaper reporter/editor, technical editor, and in the last 10 years, working part-time for a non-profit.  But my absolute favorite occupation (and my most important one) has been motherhood. I was blessed to be a stay at home mom for 19 years!
5. My new found interest is photography – both taking pictures and looking at others’ beautiful shots.  I used to just click my camera to document special occasions, vacations, or my kids’ events.  Now, I grab it when I see something interesting or I just want to experiment.  I’m not very good at it, but I find it fun.
6. My perspective on life totally changed when I was diagnosed with early stage and very treatable cancer 6 years ago.  The whirlwind of diagnosis, surgery, and treatment left me dazed, but later so profoundly grateful for life and much more aware of the precious moments in it.
7. I don’t like seafood or coffee.  My husband loves both.

Rule #3 – Give this award to up to fifteen (15) recently discovered bloggers.

I’m veering from the rule here because my first award goes to a blog I’ve been reading for over a year now, so she’s not recently discovered, she’s one of my “must-reads” -  Homestead Rambling’s Blog.  We became instant and life-long friends when she found my blog and started commenting.  We’ve realized we are kindred spirits with so much in common, including our faith.  She truly is a versatile blogger because her posts may be informative, humorous, encouraging, or inspiring.  Right now, she’s writing about her recent journey to Alaska, a land that seems to be calling to her, and from her pictures, I can sure see why.

Crossing the Line  also deserves this award.  This blogging buddy has been one of my cheerleaders for some time.  Her comments always make me feel valued and appreciated as a writer.  I relish reading her posts on her relatively new blogging adventure.  As she honestly writes about the aspects of life that invite her to ‘cross the line’ and move forward on her personal growth journey, she reminds us all about our human frailties and how we can choose to take a different path.  She’s on my ‘must-read’ list too.

Rule #4 - Contact those bloggers and let them in on the exciting news.  (Boom, done, finished.  Emails complete.)

For now, I’m signing off.  My favorite season of fall arrives with some of my favorite people – the pair and the spare all will fly back to the nest this weekend!  We’ll have a full house with a family day Sunday.  That’s a gift that’s even better than a blogger award!

©2011 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

Still Daddy’s little girl

If you’re female and you’ve been blessed with an endearing relationship with your father, no matter how old you may be, you’re still Daddy’s little girl.

Our middle daughter recently called and wanted to speak to her father.   While he chatted with her, she surprised him with an invitation to spend a day out with her – just the two of them, her treat.

Hubby’s birthday falls in the same month as Father’s Day and daughter had promised him then she had a special gift in mind.  Between her job, wedding planning, and spending time with her fiancé, she doesn’t have many weekends free, but she set aside one Saturday just for her dad.

She planned ‘Daddy-Daughter’ day with an activity they both would appreciate.  These two share a love for historical places, so a trip to one of the local museums seemed perfect.  Unfortunately, this particular site closed early that day, so they took a detour to our city’s National Aviary and then a scrumptious dinner out afterward.

As always, our photography prone daughter snapped lots of pictures.  Anyone who views those photos easily could surmise that daughter and dad experienced a great day together.  I wonder how many twenty-something daughters care to spend a day with just dear ol’ Dad, and how many fathers really devote time to their daughters.  I think there are multitudes of daughters who desperately desire time with their fathers but are cheated of it, and that truly makes me sad.

My father was Dad to three daughters.  It’s safe to say, next to my mother, we three girls were the light of our Dad’s life.  He always treated us like his treasures. Even after we all became adults, he continued giving us gifts of chocolates on Valentine’s Day.    Dad loved spending time with all of his girls, and that included grand-daughters too.

Our father didn’t have a role model since our grandfather died when Dad was a baby, so our papa set his own fatherhood standards.  And they were exemplary.  My sisters and I never felt unwanted, unloved, or like our father didn’t have time for us.  Instead, we experienced the reassurance that we were taken care of,  protected, safe, and very, very loved.

And that is vastly important for a young girl as she grows up.  Research shows that fathers have just as much and often more influence on their daughters as mothers do.    One researcher (L. Nielsen) states a “father has the greater impact on the daughter’s ability to trust, enjoy and relate well to the males in her life…well-fathered daughters are usually more self-confident, more self-reliant, and more successful in school and in their careers than poorly-fathered daughters.”

All you Dads out there, it’s time to step up to the plate and tell your daughters how important they are to you.  Better yet, show them.  If you need some good pointers, I’d recommend this book, Strong Fathers, Strong Daughters:  10 Secrets Every Father Should Know, by Dr. Meg Meeker.

It’s never too late to let your daughter know she’s still Daddy’s little girl.  I know that I’m grateful my father made me feel secure in his love.  And today in Chapter 8, Page 5, in my yearly book called Opportunity, I’m also thankful my husband is that kind of father to our daughters.   Maybe that’s why the following Subaru commercial always makes me cry!

© 2011 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

Lest we forget the need

Image via science.howstuffworks.com

As I enjoyed a restful, relaxing Mother’s Day yesterday,  thousands of my fellow Americans exhausted themselves cleaning up from the aftermath of tornadoes in the deep South.

While I lathered myself up with soap in a hot shower, many of them have nowhere to wash their hands.

As I plugged in my hair dryer, hundreds and hundreds of Southerners are living without electricity.

While I turned on my faucet to fill my tea kettle with good, clean water for my morning cup of tea, scads of my fellow countrymen have no running water.

As I consumed a hot breakfast cooked over my own stove,  hundreds of tornado victims have neither stove nor hot food.

While I casually perused my closet to choose clothing for the day, their clothes have been destroyed or blown away.

As I rode in my own vehicle to attend church, many have been left without transportation and many have lost even their place of worship.

While I gaily chatted on the phone with each of my three grown children and felt blessed by their Mother’s Day wishes, hundreds of people still mourn the loss of their loved ones who were killed by the killer twister.

As I sat on my overstuffed, comfy chair with my feet propped up, my fellow human beings have no furniture to rest upon.

While I communicated on my blog, through email and Facebook with friends and strangers via my laptop, those who’ve lost everything feel cut off from the entire world.

As I lay in my warm, comfortable bed with a soft pillow for my head, plenty to eat and drink and a roof over my head,  countless of God’s beloved children have no place to rest and no place to call home.

There, but for the grace of God go I….and you….what are we going to do about it?

While I contemplate my blessings in my Opportunity book today on page 9 in Chapter 5, may I suggest you do the same?  Those of us who are blessed with much dare not forget about those who have lost everything in tornadoes and other disasters.

I urge you to consider donating monetary aid to the organizations helping our brothers and sisters in need.  Here are a few trustworthy organizations that can use your donations to directly help victims:

www.samaritanspurse.org

www.salvationarmyusa.org

www.redcross.org/

©2011 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

I smell a memory

I’m a smeller.

Oh, I don’t mean I smell awful, although on a hot summer day I imagine I don’t exactly smell fresh!  I’m a smeller because I possess a pretty keen sense of smell.

If there’s an odor in the air, pleasant or malodorous, it seems to reach my nose before my husband’s.  Often I ask him, “What’s that smell?” and receive this reply, “What smell?”

The sense of smell, which apparently triggers memories in a powerful and instantaneous way, fascinates me.  Actually, my earliest memory is a smell – not a person, not a sight, not an event, but an odor.

When I was a just a toddler, my grandparents lived on a farm for a time.  I have no memory whatsoever of visiting them, but I’ve seen pictures of my little self there, petting kittens, posing with my older sisters.   So I know I’ve been to that farm, but I can’t recall what it looked like or any event that happened there.

As I grew up, whenever I smelled a particular smoky odor, for some reason it reminded me of my grandparents.  One day after puzzling over the connection, I asked my mother about it.  She informed me an old smoke-house (where meat was smoked) existed on the farm so that odor permeated throughout my grandparents’ home.

Aha.  My first memory – smoked meat – explains why I can’t turn down bacon, doesn’t it?

I’ve read that our sense of smell, more than any other sense, is vitally linked to the part of the human brain that processes emotion.  It’s no wonder then that every time I handle a handmade quilt crafted by my grandmother long before my birth,  I inhale the smell of it and it brings me to tears.  That quilt smells like my beloved Grandma, who I lost when I was nine.

Other odors – and not just onions – cause me to weep also.  If I catch a whiff of Chantilly perfume, I automatically recall my late dear mother-in-law; that scent, her favorite, reminds me how much I miss her.  Smelling freshly laundered and hung outside to dry clothes evoke sweet memories of my mother as does the clean aroma of soap.

Fragrances mesh firmly with my memories, nice or otherwise, which is also why the men’s after shave, Brut, brings my first boyfriend to mind, although I’d definitely rather forget him.  I don’t enjoy the scent of roses, although I love to partake of their beauty.  Just don’t make me smell them.  There must be some negative connection to their fragrance, but I haven’t figured out yet what it might be.

Researchers say children possess more acute senses of smell than older folks and that as we age, we start losing some of our smell-ability.  I lost my ‘smeller’ once when I had an atrocious case of bronchitis, sinus and double ear infections all at once.  It was Thanksgiving time and I couldn’t smell a darn thing.

No delicious aroma of roasting turkey or pumpkin pie registered with me, not even a hint.  To top it all off, I lost my sense of taste at the same time.  When I closed my eyes and chewed my food, I couldn’t distinguish mashed potatoes from peas – certainly not an enjoyable Thanksgiving feast!  So I hope to maintain my sense of smell as long as possible!

Not only can odors flood our thoughts with memories, they supposedly influence our moods and even affect work performance.  You could try to use that one as an excuse.  “Boss, I just can’t finish my work today because there’s this awful smell here.”  Just don’t blame it on the person in the next cubicle or your boss!

Yesterday I realized how grateful I am for the sense of smell.  As I arrived home, I inhaled a most aromatic odor – roasted chicken wrapped in bacon, baked to perfection by my hubby – which almost smelled as good to me as he does.     Nothing welcomes us like a house full of home-cooked aroma.

Helen Keller, who lost her sense of sight and hearing at an early age, once said, “Smell is a potent wizard that transports you across thousands of miles and all the years you have lived.”

The aroma of fresh-cut grass transports me back to my childhood.  What about you? What smells conjure up pleasant memories for you?  Take a minute, reflect and share your thoughts on this 11th page, Chapter Three in my book called Opportunity.

“Don’t hurry.  Don’t worry.  You’re only here for a short visit.  So don’t forget to stop and smell the roses.” ~ Walter Hagen

©2011 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

Making Monday less melancholy

Behind the clouds, the sun is still shining.

My favorite team lost.  It’s the Monday after the Super Bowl game and as Mondays go, it’s a little sad and depressing.

I’m certain the city’s a little melancholy today and gloomy skies casting a pall over the area and depositing chilly rain over us doesn’t help much.

Football is only a game though and losing the championship is not the end of the world.  Life goes on as it will even for those disappointed players.  Our team just didn’t play well enough, and the Green Bay Packers executed an epic win to take the Lombardi trophy back to “Titletown.” Congrats to that team, city and ardent fans!

And even though we cheered and grumbled, we waved our terrible towels and then some of us hid our heads under the towels when things got bad, we rallied then saw hope evaporate into reality, real Steelers fans are gracious in loss, still think the world of their favorite team and still display black and gold proudly.

I really am not a fanatic football fan, but I can appreciate a comparison between the game of football and life.  Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose.  Sometimes you play your heart out, sometimes that’s just not enough to secure a win.  Sometimes you work hard enough to wear yourself out and still life doesn’t turn out the way you planned.  Sometimes you make connections, sometimes you overthrow.  Sometimes you jump for joy feeling like you just scored the winning touchdown; sometimes you hang your head because you missed the goal post.

But even when your body aches from over exertion and your emotions make you feel defeated, you summon up some inner resolve and you start all over.  After all, just like Scarlett O’Hara opined in Gone With the Wind, “Tomorrow is another day.”

Today on this seventh page of Chapter Two in my book of Opportunity, I can either let the dreariness of the weather, the loss of the Super Bowl or the fact that my nest is empty all over again get the best of me.  But that’s not what I’m going to do!

Instead I will be glad for the opportunity that we were given this weekend.  Oldest daughter flew home from Dixie for a few days.  She experienced an encouraging meeting that could lead her to a new route on her road of life.  And for that I am thankful and excited for her and the possibility that may develop.

Middle daughter didn’t have to work the nightshift the evening before the big game after all, so the four of us met for dinner and relished a Pittsburgh tradition – Primanti Brothers sandwiches – in a crowded restaurant where it seemed every single patron sported Steelers garb.  Hubby and I enjoyed the night out with our girls, chatting and catching up – a chance we cherished.

Afterwards, we came back to the empty nest homestead to watch “Despicable Me” together.  Fun, laughter and good times rang through Mama’s Empty Nest.   After church Sunday, hubby made a mean chicken white chili to share with fellow Steelers fans.  We ventured to the city to watch the big game at middle daughter’s apartment with a crowd of her twenty-something friends – such a spirit-lifter to be around boisterous young people again!

Gratefulness fills the empty nest today despite the grey skies, quietness of the house, loss for the Steelers and circumstances we still face.

Inspiration comes from this quote:  “Great works are performed not by strength but by perseverance.” ~ Samuel Johnson

And love ‘em or hate ‘em, the Pittsburgh Steelers are the only NFL football team with six Super Bowl wins under their belt.  That elusive seventh win is just going to take some perseverance.

©2011 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

 

The gift of being needed

I confess.  I used to announce to anyone who would listen that I was not going to have children.  Yep, that was me – back in my college days.

Rewind the crazy movie reel of my life back to the 70’s when I was a college co-ed.  I was so full of myself.  I bought into the idea that a career would fulfill all my wildest dreams.  I was so very wrong.

The notions and ideas I had of life then boggle my mind now as I revisit my past.  I also used to spout quite often that I was never getting married.  The single career life for me, that’s what I thought.  I even wrote a silly little ditty – “A housewife I could never be, for that would be the end of me!”

Of course, all of that ranting was before I met the love of my life.  After three years of dating, my true love and I advanced to matrimony.  First notion shot down.  Oh well, I still did work on the career thing, even though I changed careers because of dissatisfaction in my first choice.

Then after almost five years of marriage, along came oldest daughter.  Notion number two blown completely out of the water.  Never in my wildest dreams did I expect the intensity of emotion that flooded over me when I gave birth to my first child.  The powerful emotional bond and overwhelming love I felt for this tiny little human being that had just emerged from my body was something I had never experienced before.  Mother lion would have described me appropriately.

I couldn’t imagine being without her or leaving her in someone else’s care to return to my career.  And after her birth, I didn’t go back to my job, a decision that never disappointed me.  A new career had already been forged – motherhood.  Three and a half years later, middle daughter was born and my intense mother lion feelings doubled.  Son arrived two years after her and now my motherhood role and passionate love for my children tripled.

Fast forward to the present.  Being the mother of my three now-adult children has been the most remarkable experience of my life.   For most of those years, I was a stay-at-home mom, soccer mom, whatever you want to call me, but I have never regretted one solitary moment of my time spent at home raising my children.

Today I was given a little gift, a little bit of retrospect, a glimpse backward into time to remember what it felt like to be just “mama.”   Middle daughter needed a medical procedure done today, one which required her to have a driver afterward.  Last night she drove up from the city and spent the night preparing for this test.   The mama in me kicked in big time.  I shopped for clear liquids which she could drink, fussed over her, checked on her, heated up broth to warm her, and it felt so right and so good to do so – to be a mama taking care of her child.

Early this morning while it was still dark, we headed out into the blustery,  snowy weather for the hospital’s outpatient department.  I didn’t sleep well, too much consternation over daughter’s test.  I spent a good portion of the night and this morning praying that my little girl in that grown up woman’s body would be safe during the testing and that the results would be good news.

While we waited for her test to commence, I wanted to protect her from any harm.  I wanted to take her hand in mine and tell her all would be well.  But what 25-year-old woman wants to be embarrassed by her mother fawning all over her?  They whisked her off and I managed to blow my beloved child a kiss and tell her I loved her.

The nurse called me back to the recovery area as they wheeled in my daughter on her gurney.  She was still sedated from the anesthesia and she looked just like the little princess she used to be as she slept with her mouth slightly ajar.  Her nurse asked me, “Are you with her?”  I answered, “Yes, I’m her mother.”  As soon as those words emerged from my mouth, my sweet one’s eyes flew open and searched the room for me.

I’m not sure I can even put into words the feeling that enveloped me as I realized my daughter heard my voice and woke to search for her mama.  Joy.  Elation.  Heartwarming.  It made me smile as I stroked her head, tucked a tendril of her hair behind her ear, and told her I was there.  She smiled back at me with that groggy, silly way people who are coming out of sedation have.

Driving home, I asked if she was hungry and told her we could stop to get her something to eat, anything she wanted since she hadn’t eaten solid food for over 24 hours.   Ever her mama’s daughter, she wanted donuts.

Right now, my very grown-up, responsible, independent, and self-sufficient daughter is tucked into her mommy and daddy’s bed napping nicely.  Just like she did when she was a little girl.  And on this day, this empty nest mama is rejoicing for the loveliest of gifts – the gift of being needed.

©2010 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

Keeping Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving memories are too precious to let slip by so I need to record them before they are pushed to the back of the filing cabinet in an old, unused, dusty folder in the storage compartment called my brain.

I love Thanksgiving.  I love its warmth, I love the idea of families gathering in the homestead, surrounding the bountiful table of delicious food with the beautiful faces of loved ones.  I love pondering and remembering to count all our blessings and name them one by one, as the old hymn my Grandma taught me says.

My memories of Thanksgivings gone by still come to my recall.  When I was a youngster and my older sisters were married, my parents and I would always celebrate the day of thanks at my aunt and uncle’s home.  If I close my eyes, I can still visualize my aunt’s steamy kitchen with its red and white gingham curtains on the windows.  I can smell the amazing aroma of turkey, stuffing and pumpkin pie. 

I can hear my aunt and mom happily chatting as they busily prepare the feast for the day.  I can see my father and his brother, my uncle, talking seriously about world and local events in the living room while I am situated in the “sitting room” watching the Thanksgiving Day parade on the television.

Spending the day with family was an important aspect of Thanksgiving.  And to me, it is still essential.  Last year, Thanksgiving was a quiet and somber day.  Still reeling from grief over losing my dad, the only family I had to share this day with was my immediate family – my husband and our three adult children.  My oldest sister and her family live in other states and we rarely get to spend this holiday together.  My middle sister was sharing the day with her married son and daughter-in-law and her family.

But this year’s day of thanks was different and a more joyful occasion.  All three of our adult children journeyed home from the hinterlands for the entire weekend and my sister, brother-in-law, nephew and niece joined us as well.  I actually enjoyed being in the kitchen the day before preparing some of our favorite Thanksgiving goodies.

Wednesday evening our southern oldest daughter was the first to arrive home after a very long drive. How wonderful to see her beaming face at the door!  Middle daughter was scheduled to work the night shift at her hospital, but surprised me with a phone call happily announcing she was “staffed down” for the entire night – she didn’t have to work after all, so she was on her way home from the city!  Another smiling face at my door!

Shortly after her arrival, son also arrived home from the state next door.  Seeing his tall lanky form at the French door made my heart leap with joy!   By that time, hubby was home from his day’s work and what ensued was much hugging, laughter, story-telling and bringing in of luggage.  We talked non-stop – all five of us together.  It was as if we hadn’t seen each other for ages.

At one point in the evening, I quietly observed my dear beloved ones and I wanted to laugh out loud at what I realized.  The girls and I had gone upstairs and in no time at all, the boys (hubby and son) followed us.  I realized that all five of us were located in our master bedroom, sitting on the floor or the bed or standing while talking and laughing and enjoying our time together.

It reminded me of the past when there were three little children jumping on Mommy and Daddy’s bed to get our attention.  But here we were, five adults with a house full of separate rooms, yet we congregated in one room for much of the evening.  It was as if we just couldn’t get enough of being together and it was wonderful!

That evening our house was full with each adult child nestled in his or her old bedroom, but my heart was fuller yet.  Having our family together for Thanksgiving was the most precious of gifts and as I said my prayers that night I had so much to thank and praise God for.

Thanksgiving Day was just as delightful as we added full tummies to our gratitude list.  How thankful I was that we could afford to provide a sumptuous feast and that we have a warm home in which to live when so many of our fellow humans are hungry and cold and homeless.  What blessings we have and so foolishly take for granted when we fail to stop and thank God from whom all blessings flow.  I am reminded again how easily we squander our blessings instead of sharing them with those less fortunate than us.

That afternoon, my hubby received an unusual surprise.  One of his brothers, who he has not heard from or seen for a very long time, telephoned from out west just to catch up with the family.  They had a very good conversation – another thought of thanksgiving.

How grateful I was for fun and laughter as we played round after round of games with our family.  Hubby took the day off on Friday and how thankful we are for the job he currently has.  We’ve had a few bumps in the road with downsizing and job losses, so the blessing of a steady job is much appreciated.

That afternoon middle daughter met her boyfriend in the city for the “backyard brawl” (big rival college football game) and then they rejoined the family that evening. Another person to give thanks for – daughter’s bf – a wonderful, godly young man who obviously adores our lovely one.

Saturday brought even more fun and festivities. The girls and I attended niece’s baby shower – a real cause for celebration as a new little life will soon join our family. 

Again my mind turned to thanksgiving – we haven’t had a new baby join our family since my great-nephew was born about 12 years ago.  So this little girl arriving in December will be so lovingly welcomed.

The shower was lovely with a princess theme just like the wee one’s nursery.  We gathered with friends and my girls received an extra special treat when they got to tend a friend’s baby – a beautiful, sweet-natured boy.  We relished princess cake and my sister’s gift to her new grandchild of the Princess Potty Chair was a hit!

While we welcomed the princess, the boys were having some male bonding time at home.  Boyfriend brought his new shotgun.  Woo, boy, nothing makes manly men more excited than target shooting with a new gun in the back yard!  A few empty 2-liter pop bottles met their demise as well as some sweet potatoes cleverly disguised as clay pigeons.  As soon as we girls got home, my daughters wanted an equal opportunity – they tried their hand at shooting too. That’s when my thankfulness for living out here in the country kicked in.

Before I was ready, it was Sunday morning – departure day.  Oldest daughter, first to arrive now and 28 years ago, was first to leave.  Sitting in church that morning, listening to my young friend deliver the morning’s message, my heart was full of thanksgiving for my family, for my faith, for friends, for my Savior.

So many blessings, my cup of gratitude overflowed.  My desire is to experience those moments of gratefulness each and every day.  I do not want to let Thanksgiving Day go,  I want to keep it in my heart and mind not just for one day of the year but for always and especially during the upcoming Christmas season.

“Know that the LORD is God.
   It is he who made us, and we are his,
   we are his people, the sheep of his pasture.

Enter his gates with thanksgiving
   and his courts with praise;
   give thanks to him and praise his name. 
For the LORD is good and his love endures forever;
   his faithfulness continues through all generations.” ~ Psalm 100:3-5 (New International Version)

©2010 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

Operation Christmas postponed (at least for a day or so)

Sometimes when my subconscious can’t get through to my awakened state of mind, I imagine it forms an alliance with my body.

The recessed part of my brain has been trying to communicate with the conscious component and since my daytime functioning brain (at least I hope it’s functioning!) isn’t picking up the signal, the subconscious has enlisted the rest of my body to join forces with it. 

I’m pretty certain I can attribute my current state of lethargy right now to this coalition.  It might not make much sense to you, but it makes perfectly logical sense to me.

See, I’ve concluded that my subconscious isn’t ready to let go of the Thanksgiving holiday quite yet, but since December has now arrived and Christmas is a mere 24 days away, my logical mind wants to plan the attack for Operation Christmas….get the decorating mission accomplished,  finish Christmas maneuvers (shopping), address those greeting cards and launch them into the mail zone, fire up the oven and bake some cookies, move it, move it, move it!

Let’s get this house ship-shape, toy soldier!  Tactical plans need to be made if you’re going to win the battle of the tangled lights and launch the attack on the hanging of the greens.  We’ve got a tree to erect!  Send out the platoon of nutcrackers to their observation tower.  Attention snowmen, line up on the fireplace mantel.   Lady, man your gift wrapping station!  Hut two, three, four!

But the mind can’t achieve what the body isn’t willing to do.  My body stammers and balks.

“Slow down a minute!  Too tired.  Didn’t get enough sleep.  Back is hurting.  Ow, what’s wrong with that knee?  It’s cold (shiver, shiver).  No energy.  Too hungry.  Need to get up early tomorrow.  Let’s just sit here on the couch, shall we?”

It’s obvious that my physical body is organizing a mutiny against my drill sergeant brain.  And somewhere underneath it all, the culprit behind my unwilling body is my subconscious mind.  It’s trying to reach me, sending out signals, communicating in code, but I’ve been ignoring the message, which is “Take time to be thankful before you race into the Christmas season.”

I’ve been contemplating this and my lack of Christmas spirit for the last couple of days. Today one of my fellow bloggers, another empty nester, confirmed my thoughts in a comment she left on my entry yesterday.  (Thank you, Reeling in the Years!)  She told me she was going to give herself the gift “of having several transitional days of missing them [her young adult children], saying good-bye to Thanksgiving, and not rushing helter skelter into Christmas.”

And that’s exactly what my little inner voice and my body has been trying to tell me all along.  Thanksgiving is truly one of the most endearing holidays to me.  It’s not just about gorging on turkey and all the trimmings.  It’s about family coming together, spending precious moments, enjoying home-cooked meals and conversation around the table, expressing love for one another.

Thanksgiving is about pausing in our hectic schedules of life and evaluating all the things we have been blessed to witness, experience, and learn from.  And it’s about being grateful for all of it.

The Thanksgiving season gets so left behind in the dust,  like the proverbial red-headed step-child  neglected and overlooked in between Halloween and Christmas.  Let’s face it, retailers – stores or online – don’t get much action with Thanksgiving.  That’s not where the money is to be made.  So Thanksgiving has become a little blip in between the other two holidays.  To me that is just so wrong and so heartbreaking.

I’m not a big fan of Halloween, but I do love the Christmas season.  However, when I was growing up, the Christmas season did not truly start until after Thanksgiving was over. 

Now Christmas lights and decorations start appearing, not just in stores but also on people’s homes, as soon as the Great Pumpkin moves along.  I can’t tell you how many houses I’ve seen on my travels with pumpkins still on the front porch and Santa parked in his sleigh in the yard with lights blazing long before Thanksgiving Day even arrives!

We’ve relegated Thanksgiving to a day to stuff ourselves silly with food, watch a few football games, and then forget about this treasured day and our blessings in our frenzied rush to hit the stores on Black Friday, even if it’s in the middle of the night. 

Well, this year I’m not jumping into the foray.  Instead I want to savor and cherish my season of Thanksgiving, so I will not feverishly and frantically charge into the Christmas melee, even if it is December 1st.

So please bear with me, dear reader.  For a few more days, I’m going to muse about the season of thanksgiving.  I need to meander my way through my thoughts about this so overlooked season and express ideas about that for which I am most grateful.  Only after I accomplish that mission will I be prepared – body, mind and soul – to enjoy the wonder of Christmas.

©2010 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

Thanksgiving blessings

Image via freedigitalphotos.net

The season of Thanksgiving always makes me nostalgic and I love being retrospective and reflecting on all the blessings I’ve experienced over the years.

Today I re-read some of my earliest entries from a now unused blog I started five years ago when I was recovering from my cancer surgery.   Comparing my life then to where I am today evokes emotions that bring me humility and gratitude.

Here’s a quick look backwards:

• November 2005 – Five years ago, I was so thankful to be alive.  My cancer diagnosis that summer frightened me, brought me to my knees, and made me realize how much of my life I took for granted.  It also caused me to examine a bitterness that had taken root in my heart.  Through much prayer and atonement, not only did I praise God for His forgiveness, but I came to fully forgive others.  The chains of bitterness that encircled my heart were broken!
• November 2006 – I was happy and grateful to have been given another year of life to witness our son’s senior year of high school, tearfully and proudly watch him graduate from high school as valedictorian of his class, and send him off to college.  I was also very thankful for the high quality medical care in our city for middle daughter’s concussion treatment, appreciative for oldest daughter living in the city nearby, and so fortunate to enjoy time spent with my elderly father.
• November 2007 – Another year graciously given to me chock full of blessings.  Despite some set-backs, God was working in all three of our children’s lives while teaching lessons about careers, college life, and loving relationships.  Good medical results from cancer screenings for me provided more fodder for my grateful heart.  We celebrated the holiday at my middle sister’s home with a feast of her awesome good cooking – always something for which to be thankful!
• November 2008 -  Celebrating Thanksgiving that year, we had a full house – my father, my sister and her family, and all of my own family, especially wonderful since oldest daughter had moved to another state.  What a joy it was to sit at our bountiful table with some of the people I love the most, name and count our blessings, one by one.
• November 2009 – Last year’s celebration at Thanksgiving was quiet and reflective.  Hubby was unemployed, and we had just lost my father the past summer. Grief was still fresh, especially on the first holiday without him.  But oh, there was so much for which to be thankful!  God supplied our needs, and we were warm in our home,  had plenty to eat.  Middle daughter had graduated from college and launched her nursing career.  Son had scholarship money to pay for his next semester of college.  Oldest daughter safely traveled home from the south for the holiday.  My father had lived a long, full, rewarding life of 90 years.  God took him home quickly before his suffering became too difficult and for that I was also thankful.

So many life events, some wonderful, some daunting, occurred during the last five years.   But through them all, the Lord has taught me lessons that needed learned, shown me grace, forgiveness and His faithfulness.   The blessings overflow like the goodies in a horn of plenty – a cornucopia of God’s love.

©2010 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com