Oh the Little Things

So I just got back from a Thanksgiving dinner with my mother, brothers and our families.  It was a little bit different this year as it wasn't the traditional celebration which we typically hold in one of our homes. No, this year it was held at the Avoca Nursing and Rehab Center.

You see, my  82 year old mother was seriously injured in a car accident on July 19th and things have been less than normal ever since.

So today, the staff at the nursing home prepared Thanksgiving dinner for all the residents and all their families.  Turkey, potatoes and gravy - you know, the traditional Thanksgiving meal with all the trimmings.  It's such a tremendous under-taking.  I can't even begin to imagine preparing a meal for 225 people!

Anyway, as you might suspect, this is a pretty big deal for the home and for the residents.  It takes a lot of planning and preparation to make a perfect day for all the invited guests.

So last night I made a trip to the nursing home with my curlers and dippety-do in tow.  Grandma had to look her best for the celebration.  I've been playing hair dresser for my mom ever since she took up her new residency, so it was the normal tuck and curl session until mom spoke up with a bit of hesitation.

"I'm a bit nervous," she said.

"About what?" I asked.

"Tomorrow," she admitted.

"But why?" I quizzed. " You don"t have to prepare the meal.  Your don't even have to set the table.  You just have to show up and enjoy!"

"I don't know," she admitted.  "I just am!"

I continued to curl her silver gray hair as her wrinkled, well aged hands handed me the curlers.  My thoughts turned to the days when my mother spent hour upon hour preparing the perfect holiday meal for  us.  She enjoyed the holidays and she loved putting her special touch on each and every intricate detail.

I wondered.  How could I reassure her that tomorrow would be alright and why is she so nervous anyway?  Then it occurred to me.  She had every reason to be nervous. Tomorrow she would view and be viewed by the public for the first time since her accident.  Tomorrow she would be seated around the table with her family for the first time since in four months.  Tomorrow she would be facing a new kind of normalcy and as exciting as it was, there was still a bit of hesitancy.  I wondered
if she kind of felt like us kids did the night before Christmas.  Looking forward to tomorrow but not quite knowing what to expect.

Then she broke the silence with a simple request.  "Diane," she said.  "Would you please remember to bring up a pair of earrings for me tomorrow?  I haven't worn earrings since the accident."

"Sure mom.  Sure."  Earrings.  She missed dressing up and she missed wearing her earrings.  Who would have ever thought?

So today we gathered for our Thanksgiving Day celebration.  Mom looked beautiful.  She had her earrings, but more importantly, we had each other.  Dear God, thanks for this very special day  and thanks for giving us another day to love, embrace and appreciate.  This is a Thanksgiving I will never forget.  God is good.  Thanks be to God!

Mom Knows Best

Just when you think your kids are grown and they no longer need their mother, something happens that brings a smile to your face and makes you realize a mother's advice is always needed --- no matter how old you are.

 A couple of weeks ago I received a phone call at work. It was my oldest son with the strangest question. "Mom," he said.   "Do you think it's okay to wear a suit to parent teacher conferences?"

"Aw ha," I thought. Another "first" in my son's ever growing role as a young parent. Today was the first time he would be meeting with his daughter's kindergarten teacher at a parent-teacher conference.

 Without giving it a second thought, my answer immediately rolled out. "NO".

"What?" he asked. "Why not?"

 "Because!"  I exclaimed.  " People read into the way you dress."

"Yes - exactly," he bounced back. "That's why I'm wearing a suit!  I want to be taken seriously."

"If you want to be taken seriously," I suggested, "you show up and you act educated."

"But some people wear a suit to work everyday and they go to conference in a suit," he explained.

"Yes, but you don't," I confirmed.  My son and his wife own and manage apartment buildings in the metro area. While this  job is very demanding and he must project a professional image, his typical work attire is blue jeans and a company shirt.   How could this be the same son who appalled his mother when he showed up at his first child's baptism in blue jeans?

Then a voice radiates in the background and it suddenly all makes sense.  "Don't worry Diane," my daughter-in-law shouts.  "I'll even us out.  I'm wearing blue jeans for our FIFTEEN MINUTE CONFERENCE!"

"But I'm already dressed," Jerod explained.

"Go change your clothes," I challenged.

I had to smile. This was one proud daddy who wanted nothing but the best for his daughter. He would show up in a loin cloth if he thought it would guarantee the success of his daughter. It was so obvious.  He meant well but his wife didn't agree and a quick phone call to Mom would prove him right. Sorry son, but this time I have to disagree.

 As I hung up the phone, my heart filled with love and a smile lit my face. I was needed. My opinion was valued. Life was good.

 Today I sit back. I'm still smiling, but I can't help but wonder. I was right, wasn't I? You never should try to be something your not, even if someday your daughter is going to be president of the United States.

So  President Joslyn, may I be the first to apply?  Someday you may be a mother and I'm sure you'll agree.  Mom does knows best and who would be a better presidential advisor?  Hail to the chief!Don't you think she would make a cute commander in chief?

With the Stroke of a Brush

Yep!  It was time for a change, so I took off the last couple of days so I could stay home and paint our bedroom.  No big chore (so I thought)- just a little 10x12 blah space.  What would it take?  A couple gallons of paint and what-- maybe a day of stroking the brush?  No big deal.

Think again!  What once was a fun, delightful day of creative invention, now became a day of living hell!  Paint dripping here, paint dripping there- actually paint dripping everywhere!  Up the ladder, down the ladder and then up the ladder again-- and again!  What's wrong with this dang roller?  Isn't the paint supposed to go on the wall?  Ugh!

Twenty-four hours later, 3 walls were painted, waiting for a second coat and every single muscle in my body was screaming and they were not saying nice things!!!  How could this happen?  This used to be fun!

So what's a mom to do?  I picked up my cell phone and called my son, the artist one.  Now, you may not know my youngest son but there was a time when I thought he was the next Michelangelo. From the little square houses he drew in first grade to the the fabulous masterpieces he creatively sketched in high school, there was no doubt- this kid had talent.  Surely he could put some paint on my wall (and keep it off the floor!) 

So I pick up my cell phone to make the call. 

"Jordan, what ya doing today?"

"Oh, I gotta pick my car up from the shop and then head to the gym.  You know the usual stuff."

"Well, how about helping your mom today?  I started painting my bedroom yesterday and honestly, I'm a hurting unit today."

"What mom?  I can't hear ya. You keep cutting out.  What?  Huh?"

The ever convenient static buzz in the fabulous, crazy world of technology.  Don't ya just love it! 

So I grit my teeth and climb back on to that ladder.  Lord help me.  I am not giving up!

Several strokes,drips and an hour later, my prayers are answered.  The front door opens and I swear it was like the second coming of Christ.  The trumpets sounded as a bright heavenly light was shining on the halo above my loving son's head!  "Jordo-- God bless you  child!"

So we went to work (or should I say, he went to work) and it was a wonderful time.  We laughed, we joked, we shared memories and he got paint on the wall!  I truly love my son and that on that day, I couldn't love him more.  Not only is he Michelangelo, he's a saint!  Love ya Jordo!


Today my bedroom is done and each time I open that bedroom door, I think of the memory- a mom and her son making fun out of work----and it all started with the stroke of a brush.

Now-- what about the living room?? :)

Today's the Day!

Todays's the day!  I finally am doing it!  I've been telling myself that I wanted to start a blog for the last two years and it hasn't happened -- until today!  Maybe I'm turning over a new leaf.  No more procrastination!  So much to tell, so little time!  Let the posting begin!