I remember at one time praying to God for grandchildren. My older son was seeing someone, while the younger one got married. A year later my oldest son became a father to my granddaughter, Sophie. The relationship between his girlfriend and himself didn't work out but they make it work for Sophie's sake. Almost two years later he became engaged to his new girlfriend and they welcomed my grandson, Gavin, into the world. I thought my life was complete as a grandmother until my youngest son and daughter-in-law had a baby girl, Lily three months later.
I started buying baby clothes, cribs, toys, bottles, diapers, wipes, etc. and that was just for my house! When the babysitting started I wanted to be ready for the adventure. My mother, their great-grandmother, joined in the effort as well. We soon became known as "The Grandmas". My mother was known as Nana, so I wanted a special name as well. Mimz came to mind because my mother loves watching English movies. Sophie referred to me as Mim and my mother as Nana, but the adults just called us the Grandmas.
She loves to sit on my recliner rocker with me while we watch Elmo. Sometimes we will watch opera and she loves to pretend she is singing. She is getting older and can now make me laugh until my sides hurt. Her antics make her Nana laugh as well. Now we have little tea parties with all her dolls.
Now her brother Gavin, is beginning to recognize people. The grandmas get a special smile now and again. When I sing to him and my mother joins in he lets out a little giggle or falls fast asleep if it includes being rocked to sleep. I can hardly wait until he can walk so we can run around the house with his sister and chase after Nana. It will be fun when it happens.
Lily will be next in line to complete the ensemble of pure craziness that the grandmas can hardly wait for. She will join her cousin, Sophie, in tea parties and feeding their babies. Then Gavin will come along and either join in or make them scream as he disrupts their tea party or takes off with their babies. But the grandmas will make everything right again.
Seems a bit overwhelming but I am looking forward to it all as is Nana. Because if anybody can pull it together, patch it up, or put a band aid on a boo boo, we can. With a special kiss, a warm hug and a smile this is what grandparents aspire to be. Even though there are no grandpas on either side, the women in this family are very strong when they need to be. The grandmas will prevail, by the Grace of God, to be all that they can be for all that come to us because of a dream in a heart so long ago to be just that....a grandma.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
My Mother, My Friend
As I sit at the kitchen table drinking my coffee I look over at my mother who is working on her daily crossword puzzle. I often wonder if she will ever know just how valuable a person she really is.
When I was younger, I would follow my father around. Learning how to plant rose bushes and keep them up or build missions out of sugar cubes. Anything that had to do with my father I was there front row listening with great admiration. My older sister would do the same with my mother. Granted, I loved my mother dearly, but she was always taken up with something in the house and I apparently wanted more. As a girl I found it hard to believe that household chores were what being a female was all about. I tried everything I saw my father do, within reason.
My mother did play a role in my life even if it was a small one in the beginning. Then one day I began to realize after my parents divorce what a wonderful human being she really was. We would talk to all hours of the night sometimes or go somewhere and find out we liked some of the same things.
A few years later I got married and had a family of my own. My two sons are close to me and we do talk to great lengths at times. But somehow I often wondered if they ever felt the same way about me as I did my mother. It wasn't until recently that my youngest son told me he never felt that way. Whenever anything bothered my sons, even as of today, they come over and just sit not saying a word. Sometimes they will just ask to take a nap in my room. When this happened I wanted to ask what that was all about but didn't.
It was my youngest son who explained it to me. "You know Mom, sometimes my brother and I don't want to talk about what is bothering us at the time. That is why we don't sit with you but ask to take a nap in your bed. The blankets are like your arms wrapped around us like a big hug." I cried when he told me that.
Now that my sons have their own families and yes they still once in a while take a nap in my room, it is comforting to know that they still feel that way about their own mom.
Time has taken my step-father to his grave and divorce visited me a long time ago. So here I sit with my mother watching the same tv shows that make our sides ache or tears to our eyes. We have become friends in the midst of a mother-daughter relationship. Age has taken its toll on both of us but we have come to know that even though we cannot be in eachothers faces, we can be there for one another when it counts. This is all in the game called Life I suppose, but I wouldn't have it any other way...
When I was younger, I would follow my father around. Learning how to plant rose bushes and keep them up or build missions out of sugar cubes. Anything that had to do with my father I was there front row listening with great admiration. My older sister would do the same with my mother. Granted, I loved my mother dearly, but she was always taken up with something in the house and I apparently wanted more. As a girl I found it hard to believe that household chores were what being a female was all about. I tried everything I saw my father do, within reason.
My mother did play a role in my life even if it was a small one in the beginning. Then one day I began to realize after my parents divorce what a wonderful human being she really was. We would talk to all hours of the night sometimes or go somewhere and find out we liked some of the same things.
A few years later I got married and had a family of my own. My two sons are close to me and we do talk to great lengths at times. But somehow I often wondered if they ever felt the same way about me as I did my mother. It wasn't until recently that my youngest son told me he never felt that way. Whenever anything bothered my sons, even as of today, they come over and just sit not saying a word. Sometimes they will just ask to take a nap in my room. When this happened I wanted to ask what that was all about but didn't.
It was my youngest son who explained it to me. "You know Mom, sometimes my brother and I don't want to talk about what is bothering us at the time. That is why we don't sit with you but ask to take a nap in your bed. The blankets are like your arms wrapped around us like a big hug." I cried when he told me that.
Now that my sons have their own families and yes they still once in a while take a nap in my room, it is comforting to know that they still feel that way about their own mom.
Time has taken my step-father to his grave and divorce visited me a long time ago. So here I sit with my mother watching the same tv shows that make our sides ache or tears to our eyes. We have become friends in the midst of a mother-daughter relationship. Age has taken its toll on both of us but we have come to know that even though we cannot be in eachothers faces, we can be there for one another when it counts. This is all in the game called Life I suppose, but I wouldn't have it any other way...
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!
God bless all of you that have been faithful to my blog even though it has been awhile. I want to wish all of you happy and safe holidays. Whether you receive the gift you always wanted, were able to afford the one you wanted to give, or receive a blessing from our Father in heaven, just remember to give thanks. Thanks to the one who gave His only begotten son, Jesus Christ, because He so loved the world. That is a gift that keeps on giving every day. Say a prayer of thanks....
I also want to thank the person who furnished the picture for my blog: http://www.flikr.com/littlefurby
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Soft As Velvet and Smooth As Wine
I read an article by Mark Flanagan of About.com regarding the writer Sue Monk Kidd. Better known as the writer of "The Secret Life of Bees". Let me tell you as a writer, even though unpublished at this time, I find Sue's stories so soothing. To be able to write a story that captures the readers hearts in the first paragraph I find could only be a gift from God himself.
The story flows and envelopes you. I find only limited things can do that to me unless it is a movie like "Sleepless in Seattle" or "You've Got Mail" or still yet "When a Man Loves a Woman". Now there are quite a few more than have caught my attention but none so much in the written word of books. Sue I find must be a pleasant person who sees things differently than most and can write about anything that some can't.
I write fiction romance and some day hope to be published. Having written one complete novel with three waiting to be, I always knew I wanted to write a book. Of course I have poems galore that I have written since I was thirteen years old, but the dream I always had was to write something spectacular as "Gone With The Wind" or "Wuthering Heights".
Finding something as wonderful as this story "The Secret Life of Bees" warmed my heart and gave me courage to continue in my writing. I thank Sue Monk Kidd for giving me hope and I pray my writing will be like her's, soft as velvet and smooth as wine.
The story flows and envelopes you. I find only limited things can do that to me unless it is a movie like "Sleepless in Seattle" or "You've Got Mail" or still yet "When a Man Loves a Woman". Now there are quite a few more than have caught my attention but none so much in the written word of books. Sue I find must be a pleasant person who sees things differently than most and can write about anything that some can't.
I write fiction romance and some day hope to be published. Having written one complete novel with three waiting to be, I always knew I wanted to write a book. Of course I have poems galore that I have written since I was thirteen years old, but the dream I always had was to write something spectacular as "Gone With The Wind" or "Wuthering Heights".
Finding something as wonderful as this story "The Secret Life of Bees" warmed my heart and gave me courage to continue in my writing. I thank Sue Monk Kidd for giving me hope and I pray my writing will be like her's, soft as velvet and smooth as wine.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Gramma Hood
I remember praying for grandchildren one night. Yes, those little people that pee on you, poop on you, and scream at you. I felt as if I was never going to have the pleasure of waiting at the screen door with my heart jumping for joy as my sons pulled up in the driveway and the baby hadn't even gotten out of the car yet. Would I be too old? Not able to walk around with them in my arms because my arthritis had other ideas? Too slow because age had suddenly caught up with me?
Then one day my oldest son came over with the wonderful news my heart had longed to hear, "Mom, you're going to be a grandma." I don't remember anything passed those words because I was too busy daydreaming of endless shopping, looking up fun games for kids, a crib for my house, etc. Praying the "little one" would be healthy was added to my constant prayer list that I imagine any civil Grandma would have.
I even spent an entire week concentrating on names the baby would call me. My mother had a name, Nana or Gammy (by my two sons). My older sister had a name, Grammy. Now it was my turn. I needed something as special as my two predecessors. Something that would make me smile every time I heard it. Then it hit me. My mother and I had been watching an old English movie and there was this endearing little old lady (I'm only54 y.o.) that everybody loved and referred to as Mims. So that was my chosen name--Mimz. Of course I spelled it differently somewhat, with a z at the end but it was my name. At first my boys thought it was kind of dumb. My mother even suggested Mimi, but I stuck to my guns and stated, "My grandchildren will call me Mimz, not you." So everybody agreed to disagree and let it be Mimz. Even though everyone wound up calling my mother and I "The Grammas". Aye Chihuahua!
The day came when my son called me from the hospital to say the baby was three weeks early and coming soon. I prayed that the baby would be healthy and Mama would get through it without any problems. Little Sophie was born at the tail end of July and wound up staying in the hospital for a week until she reached 6 lbs. Papa couldn't get enough of her, finally his little girl was here and it was his turn to cry. That was 14 months ago and when her first birthday came he cried again. Actually he has told me he never stopped crying since he brought her from the hospital!
This grandchild of mine now plays games with her Nana and Mimz every time she visits. Running down the hallway screaming, hiding behind Nana's recliner with my mother calling out to her "Child, come herrrrre!" and little Sophie coming from behind the chair looking into my mother's eyes and laughing so hard. This game is played over and over until something else catches little Sophie's attention and off she goes running through the house again, much to her Nana's and Mimz' delight.
The news of another grandchild came again two months ago from Sophie's Papa. This time the doctors told him it was a boy. The tears again flooded my son's eyes. I am so glad he is comfortable enough in his own manliness to express his emotions. The wait is going to be too long for this baby too but it is going to be loved as much as the first. After all, isn't that what a grandmother is supposed to do, spoil her grandchildren? Anyway the baby is due on Valentine's Day and we can hardly wait.
But that isn't even the end of it, for my youngest son just came over to visit the other day and announced that he too will become a father. Of course he has a son from a previous relationship and the mother made it difficult for any of us to see the baby so my son stopped trying. One day I pray my first grandson will join us too because we all loved him when he was with us off and on from birth to one year. But now our prayers will have to suffice until then. My daughter-in-law has a son also from a previous relationship and we just love him. He's a sweet boy of 13 1/2 and is overjoyed with having a brother or sister. The baby is due early May of next year and I can't wait to hold him/her.
So now that my grandchildren are popping out like popcorn around here, I have a vision of a row of cribs in my room. Of course I am moving into one of the bigger bedrooms in the house but I love just the thought of being surrounded by my grandchildren. Yes, the little people that pee and poop on you and even scream at you. I wouldn't have it any other way!
Then one day my oldest son came over with the wonderful news my heart had longed to hear, "Mom, you're going to be a grandma." I don't remember anything passed those words because I was too busy daydreaming of endless shopping, looking up fun games for kids, a crib for my house, etc. Praying the "little one" would be healthy was added to my constant prayer list that I imagine any civil Grandma would have.
I even spent an entire week concentrating on names the baby would call me. My mother had a name, Nana or Gammy (by my two sons). My older sister had a name, Grammy. Now it was my turn. I needed something as special as my two predecessors. Something that would make me smile every time I heard it. Then it hit me. My mother and I had been watching an old English movie and there was this endearing little old lady (I'm only54 y.o.) that everybody loved and referred to as Mims. So that was my chosen name--Mimz. Of course I spelled it differently somewhat, with a z at the end but it was my name. At first my boys thought it was kind of dumb. My mother even suggested Mimi, but I stuck to my guns and stated, "My grandchildren will call me Mimz, not you." So everybody agreed to disagree and let it be Mimz. Even though everyone wound up calling my mother and I "The Grammas". Aye Chihuahua!
The day came when my son called me from the hospital to say the baby was three weeks early and coming soon. I prayed that the baby would be healthy and Mama would get through it without any problems. Little Sophie was born at the tail end of July and wound up staying in the hospital for a week until she reached 6 lbs. Papa couldn't get enough of her, finally his little girl was here and it was his turn to cry. That was 14 months ago and when her first birthday came he cried again. Actually he has told me he never stopped crying since he brought her from the hospital!
This grandchild of mine now plays games with her Nana and Mimz every time she visits. Running down the hallway screaming, hiding behind Nana's recliner with my mother calling out to her "Child, come herrrrre!" and little Sophie coming from behind the chair looking into my mother's eyes and laughing so hard. This game is played over and over until something else catches little Sophie's attention and off she goes running through the house again, much to her Nana's and Mimz' delight.
The news of another grandchild came again two months ago from Sophie's Papa. This time the doctors told him it was a boy. The tears again flooded my son's eyes. I am so glad he is comfortable enough in his own manliness to express his emotions. The wait is going to be too long for this baby too but it is going to be loved as much as the first. After all, isn't that what a grandmother is supposed to do, spoil her grandchildren? Anyway the baby is due on Valentine's Day and we can hardly wait.
But that isn't even the end of it, for my youngest son just came over to visit the other day and announced that he too will become a father. Of course he has a son from a previous relationship and the mother made it difficult for any of us to see the baby so my son stopped trying. One day I pray my first grandson will join us too because we all loved him when he was with us off and on from birth to one year. But now our prayers will have to suffice until then. My daughter-in-law has a son also from a previous relationship and we just love him. He's a sweet boy of 13 1/2 and is overjoyed with having a brother or sister. The baby is due early May of next year and I can't wait to hold him/her.
So now that my grandchildren are popping out like popcorn around here, I have a vision of a row of cribs in my room. Of course I am moving into one of the bigger bedrooms in the house but I love just the thought of being surrounded by my grandchildren. Yes, the little people that pee and poop on you and even scream at you. I wouldn't have it any other way!
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Pencil and Paper, Where Art Thou!
I knew the day would come. I suppose it happens to other people, just not me.... You turn on the computer just to stare at a black screen. Your head does the dog tilt to one side, then you play with every button you think will help. Plugging, unplugging, checking the router, etc. When it becomes apparent that short of a miracle the darn thing isn't going to do what you want it to, you start making your calls.
At first I called the company that I have Internet access through only to be told they don't do technical work. They give you the telephone number to the maker of your computer and wish you luck. I spoke to someone in India then the Philippines. I was told that I would be receiving an empty box for the computer. To place my computer in the box and ship back to them for repair. I received the box in two days and shipped the box back immediately. The only thing I could do was track the package but couldn't find out what kind of repair was being done when I got an email stating they were sending my computer back to me.
Two days later I received my computer with the repair notice at no charge. It was not a virus as I suspected when I saw the Bios Password come across the screen, but only the black box that is part of the power cord. One end of the cord plugs into the wall with the other end in the box. Then another cord plugs into the box while the other end plugs into the computer. This little black box caused so much grief. I was praying that it wasn't something that was going to cost me an arm and a leg to fix. Then the realization of what was on the computer that I couldn't retrieve, such as my three novels. One I just finished, the other two that I was in the process of writing. My short stories, my poems, etc. Ahhhhh!
Is it wrong of me to think back to a simpler time when pencil and paper was all you had to worry about? Or a sharpened pencil? A preference of pen or pencil? Lined or unlined paper? All I know is that it all seemed pretty good to me. More control over things with pencil and paper! I grew up with manual typewriters, micro film, mechanical pencils, etc. My sons grew up with computers, as will my granddaughter. I have taken classes, I have gotten into the computer to better understand what is happening, I have pestered my oldest son over and over about certain programs and such. I just finished advanced classes but I think my next step will be to get into the meat of the computer. Find out what makes it tick and why. I am certainly all for new ventures and exploring all that the future has to offer in computers. But I really don't think I will forever "back up" my work by writing it all down. Crashing computers will not take my life over again. I will write my notes on paper no matter what anybody says. It's just as plain as that.
At first I called the company that I have Internet access through only to be told they don't do technical work. They give you the telephone number to the maker of your computer and wish you luck. I spoke to someone in India then the Philippines. I was told that I would be receiving an empty box for the computer. To place my computer in the box and ship back to them for repair. I received the box in two days and shipped the box back immediately. The only thing I could do was track the package but couldn't find out what kind of repair was being done when I got an email stating they were sending my computer back to me.
Two days later I received my computer with the repair notice at no charge. It was not a virus as I suspected when I saw the Bios Password come across the screen, but only the black box that is part of the power cord. One end of the cord plugs into the wall with the other end in the box. Then another cord plugs into the box while the other end plugs into the computer. This little black box caused so much grief. I was praying that it wasn't something that was going to cost me an arm and a leg to fix. Then the realization of what was on the computer that I couldn't retrieve, such as my three novels. One I just finished, the other two that I was in the process of writing. My short stories, my poems, etc. Ahhhhh!
Is it wrong of me to think back to a simpler time when pencil and paper was all you had to worry about? Or a sharpened pencil? A preference of pen or pencil? Lined or unlined paper? All I know is that it all seemed pretty good to me. More control over things with pencil and paper! I grew up with manual typewriters, micro film, mechanical pencils, etc. My sons grew up with computers, as will my granddaughter. I have taken classes, I have gotten into the computer to better understand what is happening, I have pestered my oldest son over and over about certain programs and such. I just finished advanced classes but I think my next step will be to get into the meat of the computer. Find out what makes it tick and why. I am certainly all for new ventures and exploring all that the future has to offer in computers. But I really don't think I will forever "back up" my work by writing it all down. Crashing computers will not take my life over again. I will write my notes on paper no matter what anybody says. It's just as plain as that.
Monday, May 31, 2010
Thank You, Soldier!
"A Soldier is someone who, at one point in their life, wrote a blank check made payable to the United States of America, for an amount up to, and including, his or her life. That is an honor, and there are way to many people in this country today who no longer understand that fact."
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