Wrapping Up Thanksgiving

It's the day after Thanksgiving and I'm still reflecting on blessings, especially those that can be taken for granted. 

years of letters

Since our mother's passing in late October, Sister has been very busy with the necessary end-of-life matters. She has sent some of Mama's books and the letters I wrote to her these last several years when phone conversations were nearly impossible and in-person visits were hard due to the distance. Not only did Mama pass on to me a love for sewing, but she and I value the ability to type out our communications (as opposed to hand-writing). 

Especially after Mama moved to the nursing home in 2019, I wrote a snail mail letter to her every Friday. Her ability to understand was decreasing over time, so I kept the letters light-hearted and contained to just one page. Often a snapshot or other art work were included to add more interest. 

When she could, Mama read the letters herself and then over time Sister would read them to her. In the last couple of months, some of the letters never got opened. She became unresponsive at times and mail would get shuffled off to the side for more important things that had to be done for her. I understand and take no offense at that.

Now that I have the letters back with me, this week I have opened all of them, arranged them in chronological order, and packed them away for another time when they might be put into a 3-ring binder. They make up a diary of sorts of my own life over the past five years.

Although Mama's ability to communicate with me decreased greatly in those years, I will never forget that after my late husband died, Mama asked her nurse to telephone me.  I answered, seeing that the nursing home was on the caller ID. The nurse told me that my mother was with her and had a message for me:

"Barbara, I am so sorry Tom has died." 

I cannot tell you how deeply that touched me, coming from my mother who was getting forgetful of people and things but she had enough presence of mind to ask her nurse to call me with that message. Mama was widowed a very long time ago, and she clearly still remembered what that was like. Grief lessens over time but it's not entirely forgotten.

Earlier this week was the 4-year anniversary of Tom's passing, his funeral, and his burial. It was the week of Thanksgiving when that all happened. Oh how I thank God for His mercies and how He sustained me at that time and ever since! It's not been smooth sailing by any means but there've been more joys than I ever imagined could come my way.

Gary and me

So back to working through this week, we took the truck through the car wash, which my weird sense of humor refers to as "the tunnel of love."

windshield with colorful soap

In running the windshield wipers after the wash, we realized something was amiss that made a loud noise. Gary checked it out enough to know it was not something he could fix, so we were able to get an o'dark-early appointment at the Ford dealership service center for the next day. The repair was short but long enough for us to enjoy coffee and a donut in the waiting room. I saw this thought-provoking statement on one of the walls:

Being kind costs nothing

but pays huge dividends.

I wish in reality that this was true all of the time but with that said, it's a good thought to live by.

Speaking of kindness, we enjoyed the hospitality of family for Thanksgiving dinner. My niece and her husband moved from Georgia back to Florida a couple of years ago. They invited us for the holiday, as well as one other senior on my nephew's side of the family, and a younger cousin. Gary joked on the ride over that Thanksgiving is "National Invite the Old Folks to Dinner Day." 🦃

Whatever you want to call it, we were delighted with the invitation and offered to bring dessert. Our friend, Bob Evans, did the cooking for me with a pecan and a pumpkin pie, supplemented with Cool Whip, of course.

Our hosts are devoted animal lovers. The above sign is at the outside of their front door. They currently have three dogs and a bird but since canines can sometimes be overly enthusiastic with guests, and we are all older, our hosts sequestered the dogs out of sight. We didn't meet them. However, we did get to meet Desi:

Desi the Macaw

A Macaw is a type of Parrot. He has been a member of their family for many years. I looked closely at him through the wires of his large cage in the kitchen/gathering area of the house, and he eyed me, but he kept his judgment to himself. He did squawk loudly several times while we were there, and he may have said something to my nephew, but I didn't catch what it was. We were told that he does indeed speak clearly when he wants to.

our hosts

As best I could tell, he did not seem to feel threatened as my nephew carved up the main dish on a nearby kitchen counter... 🙄

We also had ham, mashed potatoes with gravy, stuffing, green bean casserole, a corn casserole (that I could easily enjoy every day for the rest of my life), Watergate salad, cranberry sauce and [surely I've left something out]. 

Before dinner we had fresh veggies and baked Brie with crackers. Wow. I've not had baked Brie before. I could get addicted to that!! True to their promise, none of us left their home hungry. We were given leftovers, which we enjoyed for our lunch today.

our front door

Today Gary turned the kitchen calendar on the pantry door to the December page. I got out the boxes of Christmas decorations, and we put up our trees (2). I'll be honest here in confessing that although I was on my soap box a week or so ago about not putting up Christmas decorations until Thanksgiving is over, I did allow Gary to hang our new wreath on the front door before the day of Thanks dawned. 

We got it at Lowe's, along with the brass over-the-door hangar. I reasoned that since it has no red or green, it looked appropriate for the season. It also matches very nicely with the copper foil that is soldered to the pieces of glass in the door's design. 

The rest of our Christmas/holiday decorations can take up another blog post. 

In the meantime, I close with one more Thanksgiving-related  thought from Christian writer Randy Alcorn's blog earlier this week:

G. K. Chesterton, one of the happiest and cleverest minds of the twentieth century, noted that children are grateful when their Christmas stockings are filled with candy or toys. But what about “the gift of two miraculous legs” inside our stockings? “We thank people for birthday presents of cigars and slippers. Can I thank no one for the birthday present of birth?”

Until next time, grace and peace.

Thanksgiving 2024

To all of my readers, thank you for coming by!

Go get yourself another slice of pie! 😋
 

Retirement Home Agenda

from Reader's Digest

When we drink our morning coffee in our jammies, we talk about the day's plans. I usually suggest a thing or two while Gary is either too sleepy to say much or just wants to keep his thoughts to himself until he's seen the weather forecast. Often by day's end he's muttering with his mock grouchy face things like: "You worked me too hard!" 🙄 

Yeah, right. We're retired. How hard do we really work?! (Maybe more than you would think.)

goodbye, Bench

Yesterday we had a plan to do one thing and then that led to this and this led to that, and (you get the idea). One of those things was to list my black metal bench on our neighborhood marketplace -- for free. It was a nice bench, but we never sit on it (it was more attractive than comfortable) and was just another thing to secure outside when there is a serious storm threat.

Yes, I could have put a $$ tag on it but I just didn't want to deal with the calls that come with the games people play in an effort to get something for nothing. So I stated in the ad that I'd bought the bench in 2018, and it was in excellent condition except that it needed a fresh coat of paint. It was FREE. As you can imagine, it was claimed in less than 30 minutes and was loaded into the new owner's SUV right after supper. G'bye!

Also yesterday we disassembled the gas grill and loaded it into the back of our truck to haul it off to the dump. It has not been used in a long time. We have a camp stove that takes up much less space should our power go out. We gave the nearly full propane tank to a neighbor.

one of our local nurseries

I suggested we go to a nearby nursery on our way home from the dump. We recently had a palm tree removed and have been wondering what to place on the flat stump that remains. It looks a lot like a table, just waiting for -- something.

A couple of bushes were purchased, along with a clump of Blue Daze flowers. We also took advantage of a sale to bring home this addition to our Asian-themed back yard:

Gary spent three years in Japan in his first Air Force assignment, so he's got an appreciation for the architecture. I like it, too.

Our pagodas are beautiful works of art. Occasionally a Gecko can be seen peering out through the windows, like tourists at a light house or the Statue of Liberty. 

For that palm tree stump, we ended up taking apart an oriental-style fountain we already had that had not been connected to water. Gary secured the bowl to the stump. 

As you can see by the diameter of the trunk, it was a very large palm. It had grown some 40 feet tall. In addition to the increased costs of maintenance (hiring a crane to trim the dying branches up so high), there was the worry of it crashing down on our roof some day in a turbulent storm.

evidence of yard work

Besides adding embellishments, a couple of large gangly bushes were dug up, replaced with something more suitable and other shrubs were trimmed. When Gary and I combined our households, one of the most useful things I brought to our union were 3 large bins from my years in Colorado. It always warms my heart that I could contribute something so practical and useful to Gary's enjoyment of trimming bushes and trees.

Earlier this week we added a couple more chairs to the patio setting and had some neighbors over for chocolate cream pie (courtesy of Publix). That was before the cold wind and a dive into cold temperatures arrived. I am pretty sure summer here in North Central Florida is finally over. 

Chocolate Creme Pie

Forgive the repetition from my last post, but here is another reference to my happiness that Gary can once again ride bikes with me. He's the one who got me started with cycling nearly 3 years ago but for the past 9 months he's been watching me pedal by our house from the comfort of a porch chair. 

Our neighbor was getting ready for his own morning athletics when he saw us and assumed we were getting ready to ride. Our response was that no, we had already been out and were just now returning home. He seemed impressed that the two old folks had got up and out so early!

When we ride our bikes into other neighborhoods within our [large] +55 retirement community, we pass by these metal dancers. (at least, I like to think of them as dancers) Such a cheery sight.

Another house we pass on our bicycles is this one with a flower box over the garage. I doubt the florals are real but aren't they pretty? I've never been to Europe, but I think of this as a charming Old World influence. 

entrance road to our guard gate

I suppose the above snapshot should be labeled "progress." We are in shock to see how our builder has literally bull-dozed a huge area to make room for more houses. All of that open area in the picture above used to be a DENSE forest of pine trees alongside about a half mile at the entrance to our community. Apparently it's been in the master plan all along that our development would build there, but after driving past the forest for years, the violent sudden removal of so many huge shade trees has been a serious jolt. You would think they could have just harvested the trees instead of burning them.

On the subject of change (baffling ones in particular), 2024 has been full of that for many of us. I won't list the ones that have affected me; I know many of you have had puzzling things going on in your experiences, too. In recent years I have had what I consider to be an unusual number of times when something unexpected confronted me and I truly did not know what to do. It's been like an Advanced Placement course in The School of Hard Knocks. In looking back, I see that in spite of the discomfort, all of my needs have been met. To be honest, I am a little wiser for the experiences, more cautious. In some situations I am less trusting, while more trusting in others. 

At this season of Thanksgiving, it's normal to review the year and draw some conclusions. It's my prayer that I'm hearing what God is saying to me, obeying His direction, and not messing up anybody else along the way with my responses. 

One of my Facebook friends recently posted this piece called, "The I don't know prayer." Perhaps you have seen it. I close with it and hope it comforts you the way it helps me.

Yes, Amen! Until next time, grace and peace.

The Season of Thanks

 

Pumpkin Spice Roll

Up front I will tell you that the above picture will not be accompanied with a recipe. I like the first photo in my blog posts to be something beautiful or eye-catching (in a good way), or delicious because that's what gets posted on Facebook when I announce my most recent post. First impressions.... you get it. The picture needs to be something that may encourage the reader to continue.

Although I'm not posting a recipe, I chose the plate with Pumpkin Spice Roll to illustrate that this is the season to celebrate gratitude, thanksgiving, and acknowledgement of the countless blessings every single one of us have.

Christmas decor at a local store

When Gary and I left on the morning of Halloween to drive to the Midwest for my mother's funeral, there were skeletons, spider webs, and spooky jack-o-lanterns everywhere (keeping in mind that, as I've said before, I'm not a fan of Halloween). 

When we got back home just five days later, Christmas had popped out and Thanksgiving is almost nowhere to be found. This was starkly evident when Jersey Girl and I had lunch and then perused through a popular shop where not only was Christmas everywhere, but much of it in non-traditional colors and themes. 

I find this to be disheartening, and I suspect many of you feel the same. ("birds of a feather flock together....") I am reminded of the song by the late Andrae Crouch with these words:

How can I say thanks

For the things You have done for me?

Things so undeserved

Yet You gave to prove Your love for me

The voices of a million angels

Could not express my gratitude

All that I am and ever hope to be

I owe it all to Thee.

My Tribute (To God Be The Glory)

How quickly we forget the simplest of blessings, such as being able to climb out of bed on our own strength every morning to navigate safely to the toilet. We forget the blessings of hot water (running water, even), and the ability to put spoon to mouth as we enjoy our breakfast cereal. 

Yes, yes, I know. Much of the early Christmas emphasis is based on making money. I'll leave it at that. I know I'm preaching to the choir here. But with that said, aside from having completed much of my Christmas shopping a month or so ago (!!!), the Christmas decor is not coming out of storage in our house until after our observation of Thanksgiving Day.

flags at our Reunion Center

This past week began with Veterans Day on November 11. We rode our bikes over to the Reunion Center in our gated retirement community with the expectation to observe the ceremonial flag raising we've enjoyed in the past. Nobody was there. Not a soul except us. We had not seen an announcement about it but just assumed tradition would continue. Disappointing. 

I've been married to two Vets, have a son who is a Vet, and a nephew, just to recognize a few. The willingness of these people to serve in the military on behalf of the rest of us is stunning when one really thinks about it. 

lunch on Veterans Day

That day is special to Gary and me in another way, too, as we celebrate the anniversary of the day we met! A mutual friend basically lured the two of us to that community flag ceremony so we could meet and the rest is happy history! 

For Gary's birthday in October, I gave him a gift card for one of his favorite restaurants. We used that for our lunch. Can you guess where it was? (hint: the black metal cowboy decor is in all of their locations)

cheesecake dessert

Because Gary is a Vet, our waitress said we could have a free appetizer or dessert. We opted for the dessert, taking it home to enjoy later. The above is my half.

selfie at a car show in 2022
taken with the hood of a Corvette

Last weekend we also visited a local car show honoring Veterans. We came across a truck much like one Gary's family had when he was a very little tyke. He was 2 years old. While this one was a bright yellow, Gary's Dad's truck was green. 

Gary beside a 1947 Ford truck

There is a story to be told about this truck. The family was originally from Missouri but was moving to Idaho upon the recommendation of an uncle. Gary's Dad had built a wood camper top and attached it to the bed of the truck. Gary and his two older brothers (ages about 2, 4, and 6) rode in the back while their parents enjoyed the comfort of the cab. 

Gary (the smallest boy) with his dad and two brothers 
and the 1947 Ford truck in Missouri

While driving across Wyoming, a big wind caught that camper top and absolutely blew it off! For the rest of the ride to Idaho, the boys crowded into the cab with the folks. That appears to be one of Gary's earliest childhood memories -- and who could forget something like that?!!

from our home decor

A few paragraphs ago I mentioned that we had ridden our bikes to the flag poles. Yes, Gary has resumed his enjoyment of bike-riding. He's had two surgeries this year, the first one in March. His bicycle has been gathering dust since then as time was given for healing (and a second surgery to tweak what was done in the first procedure). Each day this week he has ridden just a little farther and his body appears to be handling it well. (thanks to all who have been praying about Gary's health)

"bird legs" on her bike

This is the season for craft shows. At the annual Leisure Arts Club craft show in our ball room, I bought a light-weight bag with a long cross-body strap to hold my cell phone while we bike the neighborhood. Several pairs of my spandex bike pants have deep pockets to hold the phone but I prefer this bag (expertly sewn by my former neighbor, MaryAnn!).

Irish Chain for my kitchen nook
Castle Rock, Colorado 2013

Speaking of exercise, those of you who are on Facebook know how they put up pictures from past posts, asking if we want to share them again. I usually don't, but this one popped up recently. It's a wall quilt I designed and sewed specifically for our breakfast area, incorporating the colors of our "country" style of decor at the time. This has been one of my very favorites of all the quilts I made over the years. 

But in reference to exercise: back in my sewing days, I could easily spend the hours from after breakfast until time to start supper all in my sewing room. Often hunched over the sewing machine, an embroidery hoop, bent over the cutting table and so forth, with a sense of satisfaction from my creations also came tight neck and shoulders, sometimes with a raging headache, too.

A LOT of changes have rearranged my preferences over the past four years, including a near abandonment of sewing and a lot more outdoor physical exercise. Walking and biking -- most days of the week. My health has greatly improved as a result. 

TV screen shot from 
The Golden Bachelorette

Also in reference to how my life has changed these past four years, this fall when the TV advertised The Golden Bachelorette, I told Gary I wanted to watch it. I'm not a fan of any of the Bachelor or Bachelorette shows, and to even bring that up makes Gary roll his eyes! 

But I was interested to see how this senior woman (age 61, if you want to call that 'senior') would handle dating as a widow. We watched the first episode and that was more than enough for me because it was just so, so -- fairytale and unrealistic. 

But when the last episode came on, I wanted to see how it turned out.  Filmed in Bora Bora with perfect weather, stunning evening gowns (and she had the absolutely perfect tan with perfect long blond hair), it was, again, just too too [whatever]. Her wisdom about introducing her new love to her existing family was noteworthy. But with that said, I have no intention of continuing to watch the show because even "reality TV" is not completely real. 

ice cream at Culver's
with support group friends

Reality TV is my segue into a paragraph about support groups. "Small groups" or "support groups" are terms often used these days to help people cope with the hardships life throws at us. My first support group was GriefShare, which I began attending only ten days after Tom's death. I was surprised how helpful it was, so much so that I went through its 13-week program twice.

Then without divulging details about Gary's health, we found it helpful to attend support groups regarding his circumstances. For a time we were in two groups but one just wasn't a good fit for us, while the other has been very beneficial. 

In a support group, a good one, people are free to speak aloud those questions, worries, and experiences that have created a need for information, help, understanding, and so forth. As they say regarding Las Vegas, the same is to be true with a support group: what [is talked about] in support group stays in support group. 

sorting the stationery 

As I close out this post, I share something I find to be ironic. One of the things I brought home from Mama's funeral is her collection of stationery. A trained secretary (and I am, too), she had half a dozen spiral-bound steno pads, thank you notes, blank cards, cute note pads, some unused Christmas cards, and an assortment of envelopes of varying sizes. 

I, "my mother's daughter," as they would say, already had my own accumulation of these same things. In this day and age, hand-written notes are becoming rare. And then last night we heard on the news that the United States Post Office will be raising postage prices AGAIN on January 19th! 

Well, it's a pleasant problem, sorting through it all, deciding what to keep, what to donate. I am not complaining, just making an observation.

In closing as I go through some of my mother's things and approach the anniversary of my first husband's passing, I am reminded of this verse:

Teach us to number our days,

that we may gain a heart of wisdom.

Psalm 90:12

May we use our days wisely -- not forgetting to be thankful and showing our gratitude to both God and people.

Until next time, grace and peace.

Briefly Through the Recent Past

 

shared from long-time blog reader and friend,
Karen L of Illinois

It's been two weeks since my mother "opened her eyes to eternity." She was well past her 99th birthday, had lived a full life, and it was time. (I know some of you understand what I am saying here.) When quality of life has deteriorated drastically, we wonder within ourselves .... why? 

It occurred to me shortly after her passing that while patients may be limited in their outward understanding and communication with us, most likely God is speaking to them. Perhaps underneath the labored breathing and lack of communication with us, just maybe they are having fellowship with our Lord in preparation for their departure.

sympathy cards sent to my house

So many of you have sent your condolences via blog, Facebook, and text message comments, snail mail cards, and in face-to-face conversations. This has been much-appreciated. 

My friend CC from Colorado shared with me a thought that had come to her mind. The Bible speaks about death being swallowed up by life when we are believers. Sometimes we get that idea reversed, that loved ones passing away who knew the Lord were swallowed up by death. But the glorious truth is that when we pass away from this life, death is swallowed up by eternal life! Ponder that!

Sister (in blue) and me walking her neighborhood
Autumn 2019

If we are honest with ourselves, there are usually many questions flooding our thoughts when someone close to us dies, even for those of us who have been in close relationship with the Lord for a long time. As the recently-passed songwriter, Quincy Jones, was quoted as saying, "You find out who you are when you hit the valleys." I can agree with that. Sometimes it's not a pretty revelation. But I won't dwell on that today.

Mama and me
1950

My mother was my first girlfriend, with my sister coming two years later. Growing up, it was the 3 of us females with my Daddy, and from time to time a dog. Daddy's career choices as first an airline pilot and then in corporate aviation moved us from Oklahoma to Oregon, back to Oklahoma and on to New York. From there we spent years in California, Canada, New Jersey, back to Oklahoma and then Colorado. When another job transfer called Daddy to Illinois, I stayed behind in Colorado to marry (and then my husband's career took us cross country several times..... but that's another story). Mama had to deal with a lot of change over the years.

Mama (now called "Grammer")
with one of my newborn children

Due to all those moves in our growing up years, Sister and I were pretty close because we always had each other. Then in our adult years, always separated by at least a 2-day drive from each other, we have maintained that connection as much as circumstances would allow. We also stayed close in spirit with Mama, although that was a little easier for Sister since the two of them lived in the same state for the next 54 years. I have not lived geographically close to my mother since 1970. Life just did not work out that way for me.

deciding how to dress her

Of course, social media has made keeping in touch so much easier, including our preparation for Mama's funeral. I could not get up to Illinois in time to go with Sister to finalize the arrangements, so when decisions had to be made about what clothes Mama (her body) would wear in the casket, Sister laid out some options on the bed and texted them to me. We went back and forth just a little, then decided it would be this dress, sweater, and a pin. Mama had never got her ears pierced, and clip-on earrings were not to be found in her jewelry box, so the pin seemed a good idea. (it was removed before burial, for those who are wondering about such things)

Mama always had a "good sense of pretty," as I like to phrase it, so we certainly wanted her to look her best, even at this last page of her life, so to speak.

Practically speaking, as many of us as could, managed to travel to the far northwest Illinois farm country for the funeral. As opposed to a planned vacation, attending a funeral is seldom at a convenient time for most people. But we still had a good showing of family.

some of us 
from the south end of the table

The day before the service we all were descending on the home of Sister and her husband. They have a big kitchen and two dining tables are always ready for guests in the dining room, but the crowd required food, too. The best, most sensible option was to meet at a local restaurant for dinner.

The meal was hearty and it was good to see this much family in one place for the first time in a long time. The conversations flowed easily.

Mama, photo
from her church directory

I had every intention of taking lots of pictures that weekend but alas, it just didn't happen. Unusual for me, I simply forgot. I did take this one of Gary when we arrived at the church on funeral morning:

all dressed up

Since we wear what Gary refers to as "Florida casual" 99 percent of the time (Bermuda shorts, T-shirts, sandals or athletic shoes), it's not often that I get to see him like this. Mama would have heartily approved of his wardrobe choices that day.

I debated whether to wear dressy black slacks with a blouse and jacket and cute flats, but decided out of respect for my mother, I would chance being a little cold in the Illinois weather by wearing a dress with hose and coordinating sweater. But I don't have a picture of that. Her generation (and this speaks for me, too) appreciated the respectful "dressing up" for solemn occasions such as this.

flowers from the grand children
and great grandchildren

The visitation was very well-attended, as was the service to follow, and many stayed for the lunch provided in the fellowship hall by the church ladies. As far as I could tell, it all processed very smoothly. Two of my nieces shared from the pulpit a brief favorite memory of their grandmother and the pastor read a tribute my sister had written. 

Mama would have truly loved the music; she may have selected the hymns herself (I forgot to ask Sister).

Amazing Grace

Blessed Assurance

When We All Get to Heaven

It was a joy and comfort to me to stand beside Sister as we both sang the alto notes, a skill learned from our mother.

The burial had to be delayed by a couple of days so the body could be transported to a Chicago cemetery where our father (Daddy) is buried. The drive to the cemetery is 2-3 hours from where Sister lives now and we had reasons to get ourselves on the road back to Florida. We were not the only ones who could not attend the gravesite gathering, but after such a good funeral, we were there for the best parts of it all.

entrance gate to our
+55 retirement community

There were two more days of driving, which went blessedly well, and we were once again at home. Somewhere in all that travel we changed from Levi's, long sleeves, and socks to our shorts, T-shirts, and sandals. That's how it is when we travel from one climate to another!

one of my wall quilts
2013

When we left home, Halloween decorations were everywhere. With our return we saw all that was gone (what a relief; I'm not a fan), and now we can turn our attention to Thanksgiving. 

I have so much for which to be thankful; we all do, even in the worst of times. I am grateful for the many people who took care of my mother in both assisted living and the nursing home over the past 7 years. My sister watched over our mother and did countless tasks for her until outside help became an absolute necessity. I am thankful for all Sister did and continues to do now as the final matters are brought to a close. 

I am thankful both my mother and my father pointed me to Jesus all of my life. "Because He lives, I can face tomorrow," as the song says. 

I sincerely hope and pray the same can be said of you.

Until next time, grace and peace.