Ready for Happily Ever After

It seems only logical to follow my last blog post up with a post to showcase some engagement photo layouts. I do envy today's generation that reaps all the benefits of living in a digital age. Marybeth and Philip have more engagement photos than were taken at mine and Steve's wedding! And they are all stunning. I had fun with my favorite 4, printing them out as 5 x 7's, and I completely went off the engagement grid by pairing them with a camping line. But I knew when I saw these photos that Simple Stories Cabin Fever would be spectacular. 

I want to share here some words I penned for Marybeth on her January birthday:

I met Miss Mary Elizabeth Perry of Memphis, TN on May 12, 2016, but I had first heard of her two years earlier. Sometimes good things come to those that wait. I have never had a daughter, and have never regretted having only sons. And for years I have prayed for the women my sons would date, and court. On May 12, 2016, I knew that God had answered my prayer with Philip. It was love at first sight. Steve and I waited anxiously, albeit nervously, in the lobby of the Grand Floridian as Philip and Marybeth drove down to Walt Disney World from Nashville. When we got the text that they were getting close, we moved outside to the porte cachere. The first photo below is the first photo I ever took of MB, and what followed were four days of together time, of family fun, of getting to know one another, of staying up until 3 AM, of laughing hard, of sharing meals, all while we traipsed around the Happiest Place on Earth.

It was a gamble for me to invite her to join us. It's a little unnerving, on both sides, to meet someone for the first time and feel the weight of potential future commitment. MB is a delight to be around, and she offered me several gifts over those next 4 days. The first gift was just the absolute thrilling joy of having another girl on the family trip, someone who would break out in song with me, someone that would race to see the princesses with me, someone that always smiled and jumped INTO the selfie. The second gift was seeing how much my son loved her. That first day we stayed at Magic Kingdom until after 2 AM. We made it to our hotel about 2:30 AM and as we approached the hotel door, I heard my son say, "Babe, give me the keys. I want to go to the car and get your hairspray." Somewhat silly you may say. But I knew in that moment that the boy that would walk quite aways into a parking lot at 2:30 AM for a can of hairpray was a boy that was in love with this girl by his side. And, seeing how they interacted together over the next 4 days, it was endearing to see such a bedrock of commingled friendship and affection, of tenderness and jesting, of loving and of liking one another. The third gift that she gave me was just the gift of being herself. It was easy to see that she was a confident and fun girl, and completely comfortable being in her skin. She embraced all experiences and enjoyed the adventure. She said yes to trying new things. She was up and at it early each day, and went hard all day long, enjoying every moment of it all. I still chuckle when I recall her pushing back at Andrew's teasing of Philip by jabbing her finger toward him and spurting, "QUIT IT." The fourth gift that she gave us was of loving Steve and I. It was such an honor to meet her, to spend time with her, and to see her wanting to get to know us and opening up her heart to us, and inviting us to open up our heart to hers.

Four days went all too fast. Since that May trip, I've had the absolute pleasure of seeing MB again in August in Dallas, in September in Nashville, in November and then again in December in McKinney - a handful of days - less than 30 in total. But she is never far from my heart, I miss her every day, and I look forward to having the rest of my life to spend time with her and to continue to get to know her. This is the first year that I've been able to celebrate this beautiful joy of a woman on her birthday. Steve and I are so thrilled that she is now a part of our life. Happy Birthday Marybeth Perry! May God pour out His lavish grace on you every day, and may this next year of your life be one full of joy, of wonder, and of adventure! I love you and you are such a blessing to us!

And now Miss Marybeth Perry has been Marybeth Grimsley for one whole week! Yes, the engagement photos have turned into wedding photos. And I love that I have another girl in the family. I am no longer the only Grimsley girl! The last seventeen months of their dating, courtship, and engagement have been such a time of happiness in our family. 

We are just thrilled to have a front row seat to watch them live out their very own Happily Ever After. They are so happy together.

Philip & Marybeth, Happiness Found Togther, True Love, Ready for Happily Ever After ~ Engagement Photos ~ April 2016

Sketch Credit: Scrapbook Generation

Paper: Simple Stories

Titles: Silhouette Cut Files, Ballerina Script, Arial

The Fab Five

I've had a slow week, and it's been enjoyable. But I've felt a little lost, to be honest. My big To Do list is done, and there is nothing grand looming on the horizon, aside from normal every day life, and the ensuing {and much anticipated} onslaught of the holiday season. I've worked this week, and gone home at night, and just been able to sit on the couch and watch football, and it's been good, but it's also felt weird. 

You see, on May 12, 2016, my husband and I met Miss Mary Elizabeth Perry of Memphis, Tennessee, and it was quickly evident our son was smitten with her, and we knew him well enough to know that this could very well be the real deal. They had their first date at a college social club roller-skating event on February 24, 2016, and from our phone and FaceTime conversations with Philip after that first date, we took the risk in March and extended an invitation for Marybeth to join us in May on our family vacation to Walt Disney World (WDW). It felt very daring at the time to invite a young lady, whom we did not know, to come stay with us in a shared hotel room. But, at the same time it felt very natural to want to meet her, and to include her in our annual trek to the happiest place on earth. 

Honestly, aside from the initial awkwardness over the idea of sharing a hotel room, I thought, "What better place to get to know one another? There's plenty to do, conversation can be natural and not forced, and time together at Disney is always fun, right?" Thankfully, she took an equal risk and said YES, and so on May 12, Philip and Marybeth drove up to the Grand Floridian, where Steve and I had been sitting in the porte cachere, waiting and very excited and anxious for their arrival. She was shy at first, and rightfully so. Meeting "the family" can be daunting. But, for my part, I loved her from the beginning. How could you not look at her, and just be smitten? So much beauty, inside and out.

She was energetic, enthusiastic, funny, sincere, honest, heart-warming, joyful, happy, and caring. I loved that she jumped IN to the selfies, I loved that she sang songs with me in the room and in the parks, I loved that we ran together later that first day, after midnight, to the Princess Hall to meet Rapunzel. 

We had decided, with the extension of the invite, to go ALL IN on our son's girlfriend, and we could tell early on that she was going ALL IN with us, too. She had been to Walt Disney World before, but so many things were still new to her, and seeing them through her eyes brought an added measure of joy to me and to Steve. I snapped this photo of her as we rode the monorail over to Epcot on that first day - she was straining to see the sights out the monorail window, and it made me smile so. Such a tender blessing. I could weep over the joy this beauty gives to me and to Steve, and to our son, Philip.

We had a wonderful day at Epcot. Steve, Philip, and I all chuckled every time Marybeth said something, because it included some iteration of the word wonderful. "And I think to myself, what a wonderful world..." Yes, yes, we all thought the day was indeed truly wonderful! We worked our way through Future World, and then headed back to the World Showcase, and we were able to introduce both Philip and Marybeth to the Flower and Garden Festival food booths. It was a beautiful Florida May day, and we just worked our way around the world, sampling drinks and eats, chatting, having fun. It was also wonderful ;-) that we had the PhotoPass photographers around to take our picture! Such a blessing to have the memories and the magic captured.

Steve and I had the opportunity to buy Magic Kingdom (MK) After Dark tickets for the four of us for that first day, Thursday May 12. We asked Marybeth if she was up for a long day. We tried to explain to her that we vacation hard at WDW, and I don't think she fully took in the extent of that, but she did learn quickly. ;-) {See, why waste any time when you are at the Happiest Place on Earth? Sleeping is for home!} 

So, after spending a full day at Epcot, we park hopped over to Magic Kingdom and from 11 PM to 2 AM, we were able to do so many attractions at MK. Probably my favorite moment was when I finally had a GIRL with me that wanted to go into the Princess Hall. I have always adored having sons, but in that moment, it was wonderful to have a glimpse of what it would be like to have a daughter. So very precious.

Doesn't her smile light up the room? I loved that she and I both got to meet Rapunzel together, for the first time, on this magical After Dark night! 

We got back to our hotel that night at 2:30 AM, the day spent, full of fun, laughter, smiles, and happy togetherness. As we approached the monorail station and prepared to embark, my Philip says, "Babe, where are your car keys? I want to go get your hairspray out of the car for you now." Now, to many people that might seem completely normal, but Steve and I immediately exchanged a knowing glance. This was PHILIP saying this, Philip who likes people to bring HIM things, Philip who loves to yell, "Dad...", Philip who tires first and loves to head to bed, Philip who almost never offers such a gesture! And this was Philip offering this AFTER a very long day, at such a late hour! In that moment, I knew he loved her so very much, and my heart melted toward them even more. 

He headed off to the car and we headed on to our room, all ready for bed. Friday the 13th was Animal Kingdom day, and we were going to get up and go hard again the next day. After all, we had only four days together, and four parks to hit. And up and at 'em we did. We were enjoying our time together, yet just a little bit sad that Andrew couldn't join us. He was in his gap year preparing for culinary school, working at two restaurants at this point: Ida Claire in the morning, and Whiskey Cake at night. It did not seem the same without him, and we were all thankful for Marybeth's presence to help aid our coping with Andrew's absence. 

One of my favorite things to do at Animal Kingdom is to see The Festival of the Lion King (FOTLK). I seriously never tire of this show. It's spectacular. The Lion King movie came out June 1994, after Philip was born that April. Buying that video when it came out was a "necessity", and my boys watched that movie together so many times during their early years. I always loved belting out the Circle of Life, and all the other songs, singing along while they watched the movie. So, on this May 13, 2016, when we were at Walt Disney World for the first time without one of us, as I sat in FOTLK, I wept. I cried for all the years behind us, and all the years ahead of us. I wept at the memories, and I wept at the possibilities. And I cried for the joy and the anguish of the day we were in - the joy of having Marybeth with us, the anguish of not having Andrew with us. Ah, "the circle of life, the wheel of fortune..."

Circle of Life

Elton John 

From the day we arrive on the planet

And blinking, step into the sun

There's more to be seen than can ever be seen

More to do than can ever be done

Some say eat or be eaten

Some say live and let live

But all are agreed as they join the stampede

You should never take more than you give

In the circle of life

It's the wheel of fortune

It's the leap of faith

It's the band of hope

Till we find our place

On the path unwinding

In the circle, the circle of life

Some of us fall by the wayside

And some of us soar to the stars

And some of us sail through our troubles

And some have to live with the scars

There's far too much to take in here

More to find than can ever be found

But the Sun rolling high through the sapphire sky

Keeps great and small on the endless round

In the circle of life

It's the wheel of fortune

It's the leap of faith

It's the band of hope

Till we find our place

On the path unwinding

In the circle, the circle of life

And as we walked out of the show, those lyrics ever seared on my heart, my eyes damp from the tears, my 6' 2" baby boy is actually standing there in the Harambe Market plaza, waiting for me, having woken up at 3 AM to fly over from Dallas to WDW for 24 hours. It was the greatest surprise of my life, and I cried and screamed and laughed all at the same time, and that baby boy Andrew just laughed and laughed, knowing he had pulled off a good one.

This boy of mine has such a big and genuine heart. "The circle of life, the wheel of fortune, the leap of faith, the band of hope...'til we find our place on the path unwinding..." And in that moment, it was pure and joyful, and the five us us were together. Andrew got to meet Marybeth, and Marybeth got to meet Andrew, and for one day we were all together. We, like Mickey, Minnie, Donald, Goofy, and Pluto, were the Fab Five.

We finished up Animal Kingdom and park hopped to Hollywood Studios, and the day went all too fast. Andrew had worked on Thursday, and had to work on Saturday night, his ethics preventing him from asking for a day off. It meant so much to all of us that he wanted to come over and be with us. I've teased him since that he has forever ruined FOTLK for me because when I walk out, there is no grand surprise of him standing there to greet me. ;-) He enjoys that, I think. ;-)

I have lots of photos of that day to scrap, and I will get to them all soon I hope. Such a wonderful day. After Andrew left us, we finished up our trip Sunday at Magic Kingdom. And that trip ended, and life went on. The Fab Five. Philip and Marybeth continued dating, and by Thanksgiving, Philip began talking to us about engagement rings. And he and Marybeth, having only started dating in February, knew soon they were the forever ones for each other, and even looked together in Dallas over Thanksgiving break for rings. In our family, we fall hard, and we fall fast. ALL IN. {I remember Steve and I started dating in October, and were engaged in July. When you know, you know.}

It was February 25, 2017 when Philip proposed to Marybeth. And the wedding planning swirl joyfully began. Venue found, date selected, and all the decisions began falling into place. And this time last week, Steve and I were driving toward Gallatin, Tennessee with a car load of supplies, set to host the rehearsal dinner Friday night. Philip and Marybeth had the most beautiful wedding on Saturday, September 9, and have now begun their very own Happily Ever After. Such a blessing and such a joy. And I'm so looking forward to scrapping it!! 

And right now we are officially The Fab Five. And we are ready for another chapter. Another beautiful, new chapter. What I have learned is that Best Day Ever is an organic term. You can and do have the Best Day Ever. And then life comes along and hands you something bigger and better, another Best Day Ever. I'd like to think that The Fab Five are ready now for another Best Day Ever. Right now we're just resting up, living our normal life, waiting for it. But I think I will see it coming someday. I hope I do. I sure hope I do. Because The Fab Five will take another Best Day Ever. "There's far too much to take in here..." But, we're trying. Boy are we trying.

Best Day Ever ~ The Fab Five at Hollywood Studios ~ May 13, 2016

Sketch Credit: Pinterest (I apologize - I cannot find the layout that inspired me - I will continue to search for it.)

Paper: Simple Stories

There's No Place Like Home

I unpacked the very last box on Sunday, and as of that day, we'd been in the house six days short of the seven month mark. I never expected it to take me that long to unpack, but there isn't anyone my age that doesn't expect life to throw you some curve balls, and to take them in stride is the best management plan. As I unpacked the box, I was acutely mindful of its contents: Demdaco angels that go on display in my scrapbook room. We knew when we moved in that there was no point in unpacking them, as we were going to have custom cabinets built. So when we came across that box, it and the box holding my crosses were set to the side "for later".

As I unpacked the angels and set them out on the kitchen island, I thought about the years of gifting they spanned. I think the earliest date that I saw inked onto the bottom of one was "May '01"...that would have been the first Mother's Day that we lived in McAllen, Texas. Steve would always take the boys to Quips and Quotes on North 10th Street to let them pick one or two out for me for Mother's Day, or Valentine's Day, or my birthday. And as I looked at all of them {I have 32}, I recalled little blonde-headed boys curling up on my lap, or, later, peering at me through awkward adolescent eyes, as we would sit around our dining room table over our family meal. And when I went to place them on the shelves in my now finished custom cabinets, I did not fret over running out of room. My collection fit perfectly, almost too perfectly, as if planned. But as it happens, it was just a serendipitous, organic moment of perfection. The angels fit perfectly, and I knew I need not worry about the collection growing any, or running out of room. Those little blonde-headed boys have of course grown up and gone away, and Mother's Day came and went this year without anything other than a phone call from New York, and a hug from my son who was with us in Florida.

Life goes on. Our whole exercise in downsizing, or right-sizing, and moving was in fact a testament to that, a full expectation that it would be just the two of us again. Steve and I have embraced the spectacularly mild May and June weather we have been having in north Texas, and he and I have sat out on either our new side patio or our front porch in the evenings as much as possible. As we sat on the side patio Thursday night, I asked him, now that we are basically completely settled in the house, and accustomed to most things around us and our new life, if he was content, or happy, with the choice we made to move. See, we are at the two year anniversary of "THE GREAT RIGHT-SIZING DECISION". ;-) You don't have to peer too far back on my cob-webbed and abandoned blog to see that this whole change began with a conversation on our Murphy front porch on Saturday, June 6, 2015, two years ago from today, the day I am "penning" this post. And as Steve and I talked Thursday night, we both came to the individual and mutual decision that it was the right decision, and we are far happier where we are now. Granted, it's been a long two years, full of lots of temporary situations, hard work, stress, and chaos, but unpacking that last box on Sunday signaled the virtual, and very real, end of it all. 

I've stopped binge watching HGTV. I started reading an actual fiction book Sunday night. The stress is off my shoulders. My level of internal joy is increasing and bubbling up inside me. I smile more. I hope more. I look toward the end of the day, the ensuing days, with possibility and positivity. I have resumed my walking at lunch. My Pottery Barn wish list has dwindled down to only some new bedding, {whenever they finally roll out something I like}. Steve and I have resumed our running. Sometimes I just sit down on the sofa and watch a show or take a nap -- because I can. {In fact, one night not too long ago, I sat on the sofa all night long and just watched TV for 3 hours. Unheard of!} He unloaded the box of a puzzle the other night to piece together. We've chatted with our neighbors. We've invited two couples over for dinner this coming weekend {our inaugural hospitality launch}. We've had our first full week vacation away from our new home. {I missed my home!} We've started our builders' warranty work list. And goodness, it's almost unfathomable to comprehend that we have almost been in the house for seven months, but it's true. I've been working on settling in almost non-stop that entire time, and my body can tell you it's true. ;-) Time does fly.  All these days here have been full, busy, productive, and they have flown by.

And in addition to settling down in the house, I'm settling down now in the scrapbook room. March, April, and May have been a crafty flurry of chaos, mayhem, and organizational rabbit holes. I've lived my life for so many months with a DAILY TO DO LIST, and my lists, for the house and the craft room, are nearing their collective ends. I don't know what I'll do with myself! Wait, yes, I do! I ordered some paper today for a specific set of photos, and I am itching to get to scrapping them! But not just yet, as this week I am seriously focusing on wrapping up the last of the moving in of my scrapbook room. I am down to the final items on my list, and that will mean I can finally live the life I designed! ;-) 

I am, admittedly {and surprisingly to me} suffering a little anxiety at finally being finished with everything, and I am internally adapting to no longer needing to search for ideas, research choices, make decisions, shop for things...but at the same time, I am very eager to re-define and re-shape a new normal! I guess after nearly two years of designing and deciding, it's normal that it has consumed me, and it's normal that it's ending, and it's normal, I hope!, to need to adapt to the change. I have scrapped some basic layouts in my new space during April and May, and I have to say the "test runs", or "soft opening", of the new room's custom configuration have gone very well and leave me longing, finally, to once again and un-abandonedly scrap! I am about to be once again where desire and feasibility collide, and yet in a new way, as I've never before experienced a personal, customized space!

So the last box is unpacked, and the last stack of things to put away sits on my built-in desk, and all the collective lists are nearly done. It finally, finally is about over. The dream we launched 24 months ago, the dream we agonized over for 16 months in an apartment, the dream we have been working on in the house for the last nearly seven months - the dream has now come true! I'm really, really about to live the life I designed. And the house, somewhat like the angels fitting on their shelves, fits us perfectly right now. It's been a serendipitous, organic process, and it feels like perfection. It feels like home. Home Sweet Home. There's just no place like it. 

Home Sweet Home ~ Our New Home ~ November 2016

Sketch Credit: Scrapbook Generation

Paper: Lily Bee, Simple Stories

Title: Silhouette File

You Do Not Find the Happy Life, You Make It

I used that Thomas Monson quote on my February 25, 2016 blog post, and didn't realize at the time that I would blow up my plans 3 days later and start from scratch. I didn't realize or have any way of knowing just how busy I would be in 2016 making, or constructing and building, that happy life.

Today we hit the 10 week mark of being in our new home! Most days I pinch myself, just to see if it's real. I am thrilled with how it turned out, satisfied with the unpacking pace, and eager to embrace 2017 and find our new normal life again. I got my car into the garage on Sunday, so that truly means we are in and just about all done unpacking, right? ;-) 

This time last year, we stood on a slab in full despair of ever seeing "our dream house" begin. Who knew this time last year that we would turn our world upside down by canceling that contract on February 28, 2016, extend the agony of building, and that I would post quarterly on this blog, vs. my ideal (dream) goal of weekly? Like I have said many times since February 2016, sometimes God shatters your dream to give birth to a bigger and better dream. Yes, yes He does.

I haven't photographed our new home much yet, because we still haven't got everything on the walls, and there's one more piece of furniture I want to reupholster, and there's a box in our bedroom, and the study lacks its built-in cabinets, and the list goes on and on. ;-) But, the holidays are behind me, my oldest son came and went in a Thanksgiving and Christmas swirl, and is now back in Nashville in his last semester of college, the Christmas rush is through and the decorations are put away, the unpacking frenzy is for all intents and purposes finished, and I can sit at my worktable in Scrap Central and breathe. And think. And ponder. And itch to create. And print photos. And cut paper. It feels so good to have a spot again, albeit an unfinished spot. And I am excited for all of the story telling I can accomplish in 2017. 

But before I head fully into a new year in our new home, I wanted to share with you all my layouts I created in June and July of 2016 that documented our old home. I only completed 99 layouts in 2016, the lowest amount of scrapbook pages I've ever done since beginning to scrapbook in 1994. Out of those 99, these are my favorites by far. These photos, these memories, these layouts were so instrumental in helping me hold together my sanity in the dog days of summer 2016 in the hot, cramped, dark apartment. And they pay homage to our beautiful old home, they document her splendor, they let me say goodbye properly to her, and ultimately they open the door for me to fully embrace our new home, and all the story telling it will cultivate, and all the memories it will create. 

Yes, you do not find the happy life, you make it. One day at a time, one story at a time, one decision at a time, one moment at a time. And once you make it, hang on to it, and embrace it. Hello beautiful new home, hello crisp new year, goodbye old home, goodbye 2016.

There's No Place Like Home ~ June 2015 ~ Remembering Murphy Manor

Sketch Credit: Scrapbook Generation

Paper: October Afternoon, Simple Stories

Title Fonts: Ballerina Script

She Wanted to Savor Every Moment

{Let me say at the beginning that I lost my entire post last night when I went to add photos. So if this seems choppy or a little off, it's because it just very well might be. Life is all about pressing on.} ;-)

It is hard to believe that the photo in the layout below is already two years old, two years older than this gal just above. It seems impossible that over two years have passed by already, but 51-year-old me knows that it has for sure. Am I the only one that feels that life is hurtling along like a freight train?

Not only does the calendar tell me that two years have gone past, my insides do, too. I look at that gal below sitting at the bar at her favorite restaurant, ready to blow out the solitary candle on the key lime pie, and know she is different today. Not because she looks radically different, or not even because her health or agility has changed any, but mostly because I know how she feels about life is now so radically different.

That gal below in her favorite blue anorak had a hard time at the age of 49 going through a day without her eyes leaking. Adjusting to her first year with a bird having flown the nest, and living daily with her last bird that was yearning so desperately to also be free, was so hard on her heart. Loving is hard. Letting go hurts. Life is pressing. The struggle is real.

It's not that today I love my children any less, or wish for any less time with them. In fact, I adore them more. They are such GOOD young men - men full of promise and hope, and men with good manners and kind hearts, men with amazing senses of humor and entertaining wit. Being with them brings me such JOY. I light up at the sound of their laughter, smile at the sight of their red bearded faces. No, today I do not love life more because I miss my children less. I guess you could say that I love life more because I am finally adapted fully {or as fully as I can be right now} to being the mom of young men, of being an empty nester, of being smack in the middle ages of my life. And, oh, it is such a very good life.

What I love about a birthday most is having my birthday month. Not so much as a month long getting of gifts per se, but just an internal recognition that THIS is the month that I age. I begin a new year. I say goodbye to the old year. I reflect on that very good life, ponder the last several months, commemorate the gal that went through the last year, recognize the gal that came out of it, and prep that gal for a new year. I celebrate ME. I love getting a new year on my birthday, and then I love getting a new year when the calendar turns to the crisp, blank, white grid of January white. 

As I look toward 2016, I am mindful of many things. Some of you may be aware of Ali Edwards' One Little Word concept. I believe she began it in 2011. Or maybe that is just the year her promotion of it reached me. I fell in love with the idea, and I have loved my words. Each and every one of them. Loved them. I don't share much of their story, or how they come to me, but I do share the word, and then I live with it, living presently with it, day by day, for its full year of appointment. I kicked off 2011 with my first word, Light. It was followed by Hope, which was succeeded by Change, and taking me then to Thrive, bringing in my 2015 word, Create. And now Create is giving way to its successor,

sa·vor

ˈsāvər/

enjoy or appreciate (something pleasant) completely, especially by dwelling on it.

"I wanted to savor every moment"

synonyms:

relish, enjoy (to the full), appreciate, delight in, revel in, luxuriate in,bask in "she wanted to savor every moment"

My word came to me in November, in my birthday month, in the month where my heart broke over my sister-in-law's passing, and in the month where I had to own an even greater portion of my own mortality, a moment when I had to take off the gloves and own that phrase, "There is no dress rehearsal." When I shared my word with my oldest son, he asked me why I chose that word, because he felt I already did that. Does he not know my word chooses me? I told him, I wanted to be even more intentional about it. Yes, she wanted to savor every moment.

I have a decorative sign in storage, with so many of my other things. It says "Life isn't measured by the breaths we take, but the moments that take our breath away." Ahhhh...so much to ponder there. I miss having that daily reminder staring me in the face. I want to be busier seeking moments that take my breath away. And I want to revel in them. 

And then there is that thought about living life in between the dash,

“It isn’t the date on either end that counts, but how they used their dash for that dash between the dates represents all the time they spent alive on earth and now only those who loved them know what that little line is worth.”

"What that little line is worth...." I want my little line to be worth so much. I don't know what your thoughts are for 2016, or for your dash for that matter, or for any contemplation of your life you might muster. But I do know this. I am here and trying to live fully out of my heart. This is what we have. This moment. This life. This very good life. I want to savor all of it. Yes, my favorite age is now. 

Happy New Year to you and yours. May 2016 be more than you imagine. But more importantly, savor every moment.

My Favorite Age is Now ~ Turning 49 ~ November 2013

 

Sketch Credit: Scrapbook Generation 
Paper: Basic Jillibean Soup

Title: Silhouette Cut File

A Fresh Pot of Coffee...Come On Over

She taught me to invest in others. She taught me to give generously, and then give just a little bit more. She taught me to laugh loud and often, at myself and with others. She taught me to listen - to my heart, to my intuition, to the person sitting next to me, to my spouse. She taught me to believe in my children, to defend them, to fight for them, to protect them, and when appropriate, to spoil them. She taught me to entertain graciously - to have an open hearth and a ready home, and to light it up with the love of others. She taught me to put my best foot forward, and that said foot should be in sporty shoes and have a matching handbag. She taught me how to fight for myself and to win graciously. She taught me how to shake off the naysayers and be true to my own path and my beliefs. She taught me the beauty in unrelentless love, that spans decades, for your family. She taught me how to love a best friend, and to not be afraid of having him for your husband. She taught me how to cultivate an enduring marriage, and to shine the light on your mate from the twinkle in your eye. She taught me how to find joy in the little things, and that there are no little things. She taught me that it was better to live the gospel than speak the gospel, that Jesus was bigger than our problems, and that God was our father. She taught me that it was okay to love coffee, chocolate, fritos and puppies. She taught me that - in all things and times and places and spaces - people mattered most, and loving them was the best work a woman could do. She was a beautiful soul, and my life is blessed beyond measure for having had her in it for all of my life, and yet not near enough of my life. Heaven has been waiting for her for awhile, because who could not be excited about the chance to sit on the couch next to Barbara and catch her up on life, and whisper secrets, and giggle over coffee about the best shared things, the stories we hold dear to our hearts, the love for life and family. Every person she loved here will carry a piece of her in their hearts, in the giggle of a story, in a shared devilish grin, in a wink across the room, in a knowing glance of empathy, in the holding of a hand, in the telling of a story. And I think she would like that. You were loved beyond measure. And you will be missed beyond reason. Thank you for being such a beautiful soul, and for sharing yourself so generously with the world. You were a gift to us all. You were a gift to me. And now you are a gift to heaven. Save me a seat, dear one, and put on a pot of coffee. I will be there sometime. And I will want to sit next to you when I get there. 

I wrote the above today, this Sunday morning, about 24 hours after I got the horrible phone call, and about 26 hours after her actual passing. Even though we age, and life's end is inevitable, there is never really a time, a moment, a second, when you are willing to acknowledge and concede the end. At least not this gal. I want every second to count, and then I want them to count again.

Barbara was a gem. She was a sassy women in an age and time when sass wasn't always necessarily accommodated. She had two daughters older than me, and she was gracious enough in her love to allow others in, including little me, and in my mind I liked to think of her as more than my mom's coffee buddy, more than an aunt, more than a friend. I explained to others that she was my "second mom". She loved me enough to want the best for me, and knew me well enough, and knew my family well enough, to guide me with wisdom, tenderness, and love in any and every situation when I sought her counsel. 

Early memories include sitting on her lap while she shared coffee at our kitchen table with my mom. There was hardly ever a time when my mom could get away with going to Barbara's without me begging to come along. I knew her favorite slippers, I knew the kitchen drawer that held the Fritos, I loved the step up in her bedroom into the "secret area". There is no telling just how many secrets were shared within the dark rich paneling that ensconced her family room. I adored her Christmas decorations each year in her dining room and living room. Each time I would visit, I was prepared to move the newspaper out of the way, be ready to catch up on life, and would delight in seeing what treasures she had picked up lately. I loved how she loved her husband, and I marveled at how deeply he adored her. If there was ever a moment when I thought a perfect marriage could exist, I would say it would have happened on 310 Cedar Lane, in one of the moments I was blessed to be in their company.  

Barbara loved the saying, "If you don't have something nice to say about someone, come sit next to me," which she would always finish off with a tilt of her head, her deep raspy chuckle, a twinkle in her eye, and a sheepish grin. But the truth of that was that while she loved to hear the latest in your life, she was quick to offer wise counsel, and having had many siblings, she had a life perspective that countered brash youthful ideals and helped me stay grounded. Through all phases of my life. There probably has never been another soul with which I have been so painfully honest. I would tell her anything and everything, and I knew she wanted to know because she loved me, and wanted to help me ferret out the ups and downs, the highs and lows of life. I was her Penny Rooskie, her Penny Renny. And she was charming enough to let me think I was her favorite.

After her December 2012 fall, where she broke her shoulder, we were so thankful she recovered. When she fell the following December, breaking her hip, it was too hard to believe that fate could be so cruel, and it was harder still to concede that she would never fully bounce back from that. I saw her twice in her nursing home, taking Steve with me once, and my sons with me the second time. Her face lit up both times when she saw me, and as she greeted me, I just knew she was telling me, as she had for so, so, so many years, "Well, look who it is. Don't you look cute. Come sit next to me." Her brain couldn't make all the words make sense, but the woman I loved was there in her expressions, in her smile, in her eyes, in her hand gestures, and in the love for me that I could still feel. I still chuckle when I think about her going right for those brownies. She did love her sweets. After all, what better companion could a cup of dark, strong coffee have? 

Barbara, you will be missed. There will never be another you for so many of us. I pray sweet Carlton enough -- enough to get him through his remaining days here without his beloved bride of 61 years. My husband, my sons and I will always remember you, and we will love every memory we are blessed to have of you. Oh, to hear the phone ring, and the voice say, "Are you home? Put on a pot of coffee, I'm coming over," or "What are you doing? I've got a fresh pot of coffee. Come on over." Oh, honey. I'd love to. I'd truly love to.

Barbara ~ Remembering a Gem ~ September 19, 2015

Sketch Credit: Scrapbook Generation 

Paper: Carta Bella

Title:Rochester

Snickerdoodle Sunday

As I sit and sip coffee, I think back on the week, and in my mind I land on Thursday. It always seems like any day can be national something day. There's an ice cream day, a siblings day, and even the dog days of summer get their turn. National Dog Day was Thursday. My sister teased "Facebook is going to the dogs."  I told her she was so punny.  As we continue to settle in to life in suspended animation, aka life in our apartment, aka life in the clubhouse, we continue to find new things to do each day, new places to explore, new things to hunt for, new discoveries about what is in storage vs. the apartment, all while we grapple with the last few boxes {still} to unpack.

I am not a very patient person. I am not. But I would like to say that since we have now been in the apartment for 4 weeks, and we still have not completely unpacked everything, and I have not gone crazy, that perhaps I am more patient than I realize, or than I give myself credit for. I have *had* time to unpack, but I have chosen to do other things. I have chosen to spend as much time with my boys while they are home in their own brief differing windows of pre-Europe time, I have chosen to create things, to take a road trip to Springfield, Missouri, to get a massage and then brunch with my guys, to visit with a friend, to sit on my tiny patio sipping coffee....As I yearn for things to be completely "settled" in our new life, I have been able to balance that with the greater need for being in the moment and living in that moment, rather than feeding the inner beast that demands to be completely organized. 

I have been wanting to start our evening walks again. Two factors have been against me: the sultry still hot evenings, and the lack of a "new path" here. The weather cooled off a bit, and Truman and I both have been dying for a walk, so Saturday night we decided to just walk around the apartment complex. You should have seen how excited my boo was to finally be prancing around. He was fresh from his beauty appointment Saturday morning, so his step was lighter than usual, as if he knew just how darn cute he was with his new cut and sporty red bandanna. While the walking path was not picturesque or scenic, we made the most of it and just embraced where we were. Isn't that such a life lesson? I think that is how I have handled much of this transition, including the few remaining unpacked boxes. I have made the most of my time, and so be it if we still are a mess here and there in the corners. When given the choice to unpack, or walk this incredibly cute dog, wouldn't anyone choose the latter? ;-)

Truman has been such a joy to us in our days of transition. He has settled in to the apartment life like a champ, and has not once complained about the loss of his big green backyard, full of wild bunnies to chase. He is unsure of all the noises above us, but he will take most of them with a tilt of his head, or a whimper, reserving only the really loud noises for his bark of warning. He is so worried about his momma that he thinks someone upstairs is out to get me. ;-) 

Andrew has been gone two weeks now, and Philip leaves in one week, and this little Truman guy is the one that we get to keep with us. He is turning into quite the rotten little boy. If I had any doubts about that, my husband was sure to let me know just what he thought of my holding this baby in my lap while I did my hair and makeup the other day. Boo was a little scared and my lap is big enough anyway. ;-) Truman has been right there with us during all of his summer moving swirl. 

I had to really chuckle at him on the afternoon we drove back from Tyler. We had run some furniture we were getting rid of over to my sister, and we spent the time there out on the back patio, watching her four youngest children swim. We had taken Truman with us, as it was a day that included an Open House for our home while it was on the market still. We decided he would enjoy the field trip better than being penned up in the laundry room while we were gone and strangers roamed the house. 

And we were right. He just ran circles around that pool, checking out every little change in the kids' activities, and also dealing with my sister's horse puppy, her Grand Pyrenees Scout. We had not been in the car driving long before little boo just settled down to nap, much like little boys that had traveled a decade and a half ago in that same back seat. Yes, Truman is spoiled rotten. But he is my best boo after all, my only boo. Thursday might have been National Dog Day. But in my house, every day is dog day. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

You Are Spoiled Rotten ~ Truman's First Swim Party ~ June 2015

He Grabbed My Hand...and My Heart

The second week of January this year marked the thirtieth anniversary of the day that a skinny red-handed Yankee wondered into the dorm lobby at Cathcart with my friend Mark. He was a transfer student and -- back in the pre-internet day when you had to go to school to register for your classes, buy your books, and stand in line to garner a chapel seat assignment -- we always arrived 3 days before the school semester began to handle this big college chores. 

We all learned to get it over with quickly on the class and book thing, and to go together to end up sitting with someone you actually knew in chapel. It certainly made the 5 day mandated attendance a little more palatable. Big semester plans out of the way, we had a little precious time to kill before the semester began its onslaught of assignments and papers and readings and projects. 

It was in that pre-semester lull of the second semester of our freshman year that I met Steve. Cathcart was the freshman girls' dorm and the big lobby right in the middle of campus lent itself to many a gathering. Clusters gathered around the TV to watch one of the 3 channels. Groups lounged in the overstuffed chairs and sagging couches, chatting about all of the important events. Couples sought some level of privacy in a room full of anywhere from 10-30 given the time of day. Cathcart's lobby was also the mecca of knowledge. 

In the pre-cell phone days, it was where you went when you couldn't find someone, because there would always be at least one person there that had seen who had come in and gone out and in what grouping of students. I still love to see in my mind the swinging door that residents passed through to go to their rooms and that same door serving as the barricade in a non-coed dorm. The Resident Assistant on shift sat at the desk near that door, daring any trespassers to appear, and keeping guard on all the activities in the lobby as best as she could. Her perch three steps up gave her a nice lookout and those very same steps served as a warning to any non-resident, specifically male, who might approach that swinging  door.

There was a whole big bunch of us that ran around together. We didn't date per se - we did bunches of people to bunches of events. It was almost as if you had a family that was made up of 50 people at any given time. It was wonderful. When Mark finished his registration, he headed our way as Cathcart Lobby was the unofficial gathering spot for our bunch activity planning, and he brought with him a new transfer student he had met in the process. Steve and I became fast friends, and it was an often occurrence for him, Mark and I to go to the cafeteria together or the campus movie or the student center.  We were all three business majors, so our schedules and routes followed the same circuit. We became our own little mini-bunch within the greater bunch, so much so that people often quizzed us to see if we were siblings.

The three of us rocked along in this friendship thing for 2 years, over 4 semesters. I remember fondly setting Steve up for dates with girls in the dorm. I remember talking to him in the lobby about who he would like to go out with, and me running to the girls to see if the interest was mutual. I remember calling him out of the blue one July during summer school for his birthday. I can still hear his dad's sleepy voice, as I had not allowed for the central to east coast time change.

It was in the middle of the fall semester of my third year that things began shifting. He showed up on the patio of my dorm more often. And alone. He would walk me to my classes. He would be waiting for me in the student center near the mailboxes. He would angle to sit near me in the cafeteria. It seemed we were out of the big bunch more than we were in it. I took it all in stride until one afternoon, as we walked from the Mabee Business Center back toward Sears Dorm, that he grabbed my hand to hold and forever sent things sliding in a new direction.

So caught off guard was I that I stopped dead in my tracks, pulled my hand out of his, and said in a not too friendly voice, "What in the world are you doing?" What I know now, looking back, is that he was falling in love...and so was I. We had a relationship that easily and quickly slid from dear friends to casually dating to seriously courting in the span of about 4 months. By the time Thanksgiving came, I knew enough to tell my mom that I thought I was dating "the one". 

There was never any doubt in our love, never any heated argument, never a break-up one. We laughed together, we talked together, we walked together and we enjoyed each other's company as much while we were dating as we had while friends, if not more so. We learned to finish each other's thoughts and sentences, we found out favorites, and we realized that we had been given a true gift - a friendship that grew into a romance that seemed destined to last the test of time.

We are far today from those skinny college freshmen that first met in January, 1984. But, we have spent the last 30 years together building a life full of moments - memorable times, everyday mistakes, chaotic mundane. It has been truly a great gift for my heart. He is my partner like I could never have dreamed. He has pulled out of me the greater part of myself that I would never have had the courage to reveal. He has rounded out the rough edges that I would never have had the humility to conceal. He has buoyed up a heart that was fragile and wounded that I would never have had the tenacity to feel.

30 years, 5 cities, 2 sons, endless memories. As much as I like my alone time and my privacy, my heart always yearns for this man to come home at the end of his work day and light up my life with his twinkling blue eyes, his infectious smile, his spontaneous belly laugh. Of all the places I have been and all of the things I have done, anywhere with him is my favorite place. And doing anything with him is my favorite thing. Thanks, baby, for walking into that lobby and my life thirty years ago, and for grabbing my hand on that fall afternoon in 1985. Today and always, you are my favorite thing.

You Are My Favorite Thing ~ 23rd Anniversary ~ July 2010

Sketch Credit: Scrapbook Generation http://scrapbookgeneration.com/index.php?route=product/category&path=213

Paper: Websters Pages