I'll Like You For Always

My older sister is a librarian and as a young mother, I leaned on her guidance for children's book recommendations as needed. Of course, my boys are now well out of the genres of elementary school librarians, but I have fond memories of connections with her and with my sons over books we pored over, shared, and compared. Pattie was into children's books long before I was, because of her profession, and I remember in particular her bringing some books to read as part of a presentation at a ladies church retreat. 

She is a skilled crafter in her reading style, and I learned from her that day to emulate her captivating style when later in life I read to my children, just as I learned what books to stockpile in our own little family library, and which ones to read over and over. I have a small cache of those remaining books, books that I think I will have until I am no longer on this earth, or until I pass them on to my sons and their future families. 

One such book is a dog-eared copy of "I'll Love You Forever" by Robert Munsch. I can clearly see this columbian blue book cover in my mind, and I am never one to downplay the artistic creation on a cover that can convey a lovely introduction to a new found literary friend. Pattie read this particular book at that ladies retreat, which had to be back in the late '80's, as I know it was before we moved to The Woodlands in January 1991. Yes, a memory of a good book, superbly read, can stay with you for decades. I believe, too, that my family copy of this book was a gift from her at a baby shower. At the retreat, she had us in tears by the time she finished reading that book to the room full of adult women. And I can tear up at the mere memory of it, and I know clearly that I can easily cry if I were to read it today.

A mother held her new baby and very slowly rocked him back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. And while she held him, she sang: 

I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, as long as I'm living my baby you'll be.

- Robert Munsch 

 

When I first heard of the book, I obviously did not have any children yet, and I did not know at that time that I would have sons that would someday tower over me. My affection for the book when first heard was out of a deep love for my own mother, and her deep love of her mother that I had observed firsthand. I was in my late twenties at the time of that book reading, and old enough to appreciate my mother to a large degree - although at that moment I did not near appreciate her as much as at this very moment that I am typing - but I was old enough to see ahead around the corner to the inevitability of time and of both of us aging. 

While I knew I would not have any stairs to someday climb to fetch her, or rocker to hold her in, I knew that I would love her forever, and that as long as I'm living, her baby I'll be. Mom and I have this game we play. She tells me she loves me more than I love her. And I tell her that isn't possible, because I have loved her all of my life, and she has loved me only part of hers.  We both win this game.

As my children entered my life, and took over my house, and my schedule, and my heart, the book, of course, took on a new layer of meaning, spanning across four generations of mother-child love, instead of only three. My own personal role of mothering intensified my knowledge of  just how rich the penned words in that little blue softcover book were, and many a time I held a wriggling tender little boy, singing to them in my mind the same chant that Pattie had crooned over that room full of crying church women. 

As I worked on this Valentine layout, looking at these photos of my very big boys, on the fence between boyhood and manhood, boys that have grown now into men that could carry me if needed, and boys whose laps certainly could now bear me, the images of that book, and the words of those pages came lighting back to my heart, and to my mind, as I tried mightily to stem the tide of time, and keep those boys with me just a little while longer.

We know by now how this chapter ends. We know that any mom and/or dad that succeed in raising their child trade off that success for a nest that empties, rooms that stay dark, cell phones that don't ring near enough, and calendars with far too many gaps in between true face time.

On this Valentines Day, as we began the wrap-up time with our sons at home every day with us, with one son in his first year of high school, everything became more cherished. And as I looked back on this Valentine's Day memory, the words "I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, as long as you're living, my baby you'll be" seemed as appropriate and applicable as they ever might be. 

I am blessed to see my sons turning into handsome, intelligent, fun, witty, caring, sensitive, compassionate, loving young men. I am blessed that they are both embracing college and all the opportunities that it offers. I am blessed that right now, at this moment, we are all healthy and whole and happy and employed in endeavors that speak to our commitments and our hearts. I am blessed with the excitement of seeing what they become, and pondering what lies ahead, and remembering joyfully what these last years have held. And I am blessed that these words ring true for me, and for my husband, "I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, as long as you're living, my baby you'll be."

I'll Love You Forever ~ Valentine's Day ~ February 2010

Sketch Credit: Scrapbook Generation

Paper: Crate Paper

Title Font: Silhouette Cut File

A Meal Made With Love

This time last week, it was Valentine's Day and I was on a jet plane to sunny Orlando, Florida. Sounds crazy, huh? As Valentine's Day approached, Steve and I just couldn't wrap our heads around what that looked like now, here in the house, just the two of us, when our traditions had run so deeply wrapped around celebrating with the boys, and creating a large, multi-course home cooked meal...for four. We limped through 2014 with Andrew here, and Philip's first year away, eager to provide him with one last year of our tradition, all the while the three of us noticing the empty chair at the table. 

I think in our hearts, Steve and I knew that we needed to do something different this year, more than any other, just to break the expectational mold of, and definition for, what Valentine's looked like for us. When we found out that Valentine's weekend coincided with President's Day on Monday, a three day weekend suddenly held lots of possibilities. And of course, our hearts leaned to one of our favorite places on earth, determined to make the most of our annual passes. 

We planned the trip just two weeks before taking it, and and in Disney trip planning time, that is sort of stunning. We pulled it off, and had a magical weekend. But even while I was in the throes of the Magic Kingdom, and surrounded by balloons, parades, and smiles, it was a bittersweet weekend. Little toddling boys reminded us of our own. We stumbled on things that we knew would make the boys smile. We rode their favorite rides, and walked the seven magical lands with joy in our hearts, but with memories of other trips, and the boys' presence etched on our minds.

While this year we had Valentine's Day dinner at the Grand Floridian cafe, and had the most amazing Shrimp and Grits meal, I did miss my big Italian meal. And it goes without saying that I missed sitting at my dining room table with my boys. Dinner amore'. Dinner made with love. I don't know if I could pinpoint the exact year we started this tradition, but I know it began back in San Antonio, so that could be as many as 18 years ago. I know that preschool years there acclimated them to Valentine's Day, and that set off the shift, the tectonic shift, of our celebration on February 14 every year.

I remember so many years where I would spend the day in the kitchen, preparing the various components of the meals. The Italian entrees changed over time, as the boys matured and their tastes changed. I used to make stuffed shells every year, a batch of meat stuffed shells, and a batch of cheese stuffed shells, using the recipe from Steve's family. 

I would also make, in the early years, the cheesecake recipe I garnered from a college spring break trip to Philadelphia, home of the famous cream cheese. I believe fettucine alfredo was an early addition to the menu, and it has survived across the years, and is one thing the four of us really love, while the cheesecake gave way to Creme Brûlée.

Chocolate dipped strawberries made their debut early in the menu, too, and are one of the family faves, as well. They are set out on the counter early, and greet everyone as they come in from their day, and are just gobbled up in no time. I remember little boy dimpled hands helping me dip them in chocolate across the years. I remember the really large strawberries we could get in the valley, where all the produce was so fresh. 

When we moved to Dallas, and found and fell in love with Maggiano's, Steve decided to try to replicate their fried zucchini into our annual Valentine's menu. It quickly became another family fave, and it's the only time a year that he makes it. The stuffed shells gave way to lasagna, when the boys finally decided they no longer loved the little shells full of goodness. {I secretly love the shells and really miss them.} Another Dallas change was the infusion of Carrabba's into our menu. Chicken Bryan, of all things. Steve's and Philip's favorite.

Across time, over the miles, in three different homes, we have celebrated Valentine's with a meal. Red checkered tablecloth. Candlelight. A table full of tasty meals, prepared by either me, or by Steve, or by both of us, or with the boys helping us. Dinner made with love. Dinner made for love. Dinner amore'. I am not sure when, if ever, the four of us will be together again on Valentine's Day. The boys will go their own ways after college, more than likely. But, I will always have my memories, and wherever any of us are, it is my wish that on Valentine's we can sit around a table, with people we cherish  and soak in the moment, and have our own version of our dinner amore', a meal made with love. 

Dinner Amore' ~ Valentine's Day ~ February 2010

Sketch Credit: Scrapbook Generation

Paper: Crate Paper

Title Font: 2 P's Mister Giggles

Million Dollar Movies, Priceless Moments

Some of us are old enough to remember television on three network channels only...and maybe that fourth local channel that offered reruns, if you could twist your antennae just right and the wind wasn't blowing too hard. You know...the days when the children were the remote? And there was one television in the house and it might have been in a cabinet as big as your sofa?

Dad and mom had the most amazing television set. And boy was it ever a set. It was a long chest-like cabinet, with the television screen in the middle, and big speakers on either side of it. The fascinating part, though, was that the top of both speakers lifted, and revealed a turntable on one side and a tape player on the other side. Opening up those special cases was akin to opening Fort Knox. 

Every time mom wanted to move the furniture, the big question was, "Where will we put the TV?" You see, it had to hook up externally to the antennae that was outside the window, via a thin black cord that was the equivalent of the TV's umbilical cord. That TV could only go so far from the window. Otherwise, it really was just another big piece of furniture.

It's so funny to think back now to how we all circled around that square screen, as if it were the campfire. However, none of us could sit directly in front of the screen if dad was home, as our little heads would block his view. Of course, we could not talk either. We sat between him and the speakers and we couldn't - or didn't - dare override the important sound emitting from those side speakers that accompanied the grainy - and sometimes still black and white - picture off our  choice de jour from our four channels.

So, our little semi-circle on the floor each night was our "front seat" to the wide world of sports, olympics that occurred every four years, news that came on twice a day for 30 minutes, Mash, Sanford & Son, All in the Family, The Waltons, The Carol Burnett Show, and the crowning moment of any day, The Tonight Show with the inimitable Johnny Carson. {I was only old enough to stay up late enough to watch this when I entered high school.} As persnickety as all the TV watching rules were, we did do a lot of laughing over simple sitcoms and comic geniuses.

Afternoons of TV were much more relaxed. They usually included my brother and I settling in to our favorite set of reruns - Gilligan's Island, I Dream of Jeannie, Leave it to Beaver, The Addams Family, The Monsters, with maybe some Flintstones thrown in there somewhere. And oh, the Scooby Doo marathons that a Saturday morning offered! So many simple moments together on that oval rug that substituted for the highway of our MatchBox cars during antennae outages or program delays - or the dreaded news bulletin interruption.

Life was simple. Four channels simple. Amazingly, we got all we needed to off of those four channels. And, we didn't even get to watch everything they offered! Soap was off limits. I think Eight is Enough was also off the list. And we missed all of the Wonderful World of Disney broadcasts since we went to church every Sunday night. There are still, to this day, Disney classics I haven't seen. {Shudder.} ;-)

One of the best memories of all of the TV elements, though, is my memory of the daily movie. Every afternoon at 3 PM, the local CBS channel would run the MILLION DOLLAR MOVIE. It had such a hokey graphic. A case, shaped to hold a roll of movie film, decked out and completely covered in gold rhinestones, with simple black all caps lettering on it saying MILLION DOLLAR MOVIE. But, the fun part was that it was on a little turntable and it would slowly spin, as if that made the movie more compelling.

Mom and I watched so many movies together. She was home until my brother started kindergarten, and then she was home in the summer. It would be a warm sunny afternoon, and she would sit on the couch folding laundry, and I would sit at her feet, and we would sing with Elvis, laugh with Bob Hope, and cry with Doris Day. It was a quiet time of the day. The movie would be over by 5, and dinner would be started during the commercials toward the end. And in those pre-dusk shadowy afternoons, movie magic happened. Life paused. Aside from the laundry, the to-do lists were set aside. Mom and I would sit there and watch the movies, happy to be together, happy to be entertained, happy to see the showcase of the million dollar movie.

I have always loved movies. Seeing a good movie throughout my life has always been a joy. Steve and I had many dates to campus movies. We still love to go today. Finding a new classic, a new favorite, is like finding a true treasure. I think it goes back to those afternoons with my mom. 

Sometimes in the absence of clothes clamoring to be folded, I could curl up on the couch next to her, settling into the soft crook of her padded arm. She was a good pillow. She was a good movie buddy. She is - and always has been - my great friend. While I have my memories of the million dollar movies, I am blessed today to still have my movie buddy, and our friendship is the real movie magic.

Reel Favorites ~ Timeless Movies I Love ~ 2009

Be Mine...For Always

One year,  I believe when Philip was about three or four, Valentine's Day approached and I was preparing to go out with Steve to dinner, babysitter arranged. Philip was curious about everything and the revelation to him of this new holiday was no exception. As he questioned me about it and heard my answers, he finally exclaimed, "Well, if this holiday is about love, why are Andrew and I being left out?" His answer hit me with the unexpected force of a sucker punch. Sometimes you can't pass up the wisdom of a child.

From that day on, Valentine's Day has been a family celebration. I've marveled year after year after year at how my growing boys have anticipated the day and been involved in the finessing of the menu, the excitement of the day, the joy in the meal, the happiness in being together. And year after year, Steve and I have added to the celebration, expanding it ever so slightly.

There was the addition of the Valentine's iPod playlist. How fun has it been to dance around the living room with my sons to Dean Martin or Frank Sinatra each year? The dessert changed from cheesecake to creme brûlée. Do you know how much the torchiere and the crystallization of the sugar, science lab come to life, fascinates my sons? The cards have gone from store bought to handmade. Do you know how much they enjoy reading them, comparing for similarities and differences, touched by words penned by me and not a Hallmark employee?

Some may call this a Hallmark holiday, but I will challenge them. If Jesus says "The greatest of these is love", how can you turn down a chance to set aside the cares and frustrations of pop culture and workaday world for one quiet night at home, where you set the table, light the candles, serve up a feast and pay homage to the one thing that makes you a family, the tie that binds you all together, the force that makes you press in during the hard times, laugh in the joy of silliness, celebrate achievements and challenge shortcomings? Yes, the greatest of these is love.

We have celebrated this family day of love in three homes in three cities, spanning over 15 years. Dining rooms have changed, but we have held fast to the Italian theme. We have strived to recreate the atmosphere of our beloved Little Rock restaurant, The Villa, where Steve and I first celebrated a Valentine's Day together back in 1986. We have spread the checkered red tablecloth, served up fresh pasta, dimmed the lights and reveled in the warm feel of a connected life, a shared home, a joyful purpose, a family love.

As Valentine's Day 2013 approached, Philip hit me again with a sucker punch - the realization that this would be his last Valentine's Day at home until after college, and possibly forever. And the knowledge that Andrew would follow him out the door one later was an added blow. Our beloved tradition, our gathering of four, our celebration of the family God crafted us to be, was coming to a temporary end, if not a permanent close. I cannot ever see ahead, but I know enough from nieces and nephews to recognize that the male chick with sprouted wings learns to fly and loves it.

Steve and I made our normal plans, as best we could, determined that our meal during his last year at home would not be a sad one, but a celebration like every other year.  I held it together really well, until Philip, coming out of the normal senior year self-absorption, realized as well that he would not be here the following year. We talked briefly about how all of our lives would be changing, and then I, able to stand it no longer, needed to redirect the topic and decided this was the perfect time for the dancing to begin.

The evening was rich, a warm and wonderful memory with all the fullness you could hope for as you look back over your life, savoring a long-held and tender tradition. I have been preparing for and denying, in equal measures, the inevitable fate of family dynamics, the emptying of the nest. There is no way to enjoy the straddling of the fence, but you can learn to enjoy the view from the taller height, the amazement in gazing over two rich, beautiful pastures, the feel of the wind on your face from being up above the fray a bit. 

As I took in our foursome finale, I tried to impart to my soon graduating sons the words of that long ago storybook, "I'll Love you Forever" by Robert Munsch..."I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, as long as you're living, my baby you'll be...." They have heard me quote that so often, but in my heart I believe the words to them are richer now and they take in the full measure of their meaning. I pray it has all been enough - enough traditions, enough love, enough care, enough wisdom...but I know it has not been enough time. As I danced with them on this night, I whispered in my heart, "Be mine...for always."

Our Foursome Finale ~ Valentine's Day ~ February 2013

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

Paper: Crate Paper

Fonts: Pacifico, Arial

At The Foot of the Bridge

Both of our boys are their own unique person. While they have many similarities, they also have many distinct differences. And while we live in a school environment that clearly points to college in a pragmatic and homogenous fashion, both of the boys have approached the fork in the road quite differently.

We sat back and watched as Philip began his junior year and we were full of ideas and wonder as he processed his thoughts and sought clear direction - from everyone but his parents. :-) By the spring of his junior year, he was ready to officially begin the college hunt. God providentially set up for us a visit to Bryan College in Dayton, TN, along with some dear friends of ours who also had a junior that was beginning the college hunt.

It was a tender time for our hearts. It was a true gift that we were able to shadow our friends on our first legitimate college preview visit. They, having a son already in college and ahead of our sons on the curve, have always been so faithful to share ideas and thoughts and information with us over the span of more than a decade. For me to be able to begin this hard mom journey in the presence of my dear heart friend was just truly an amazing gift. 

We flew into Knoxville and then the following morning, a band of eight of us took off in two cars to Dayton. We traversed the campus and the emotion of the event was ever at the back of my throat. Being in a posse with seven others was ever so helpful as - in the company of 6 males - you could be easily diverted by a silliness, a joke, a witty comment, or just the sheer exercise of keeping up with everyone.

After our whirlwind Friday/Saturday trip to not only Bryan College, but also to Covenant College on Lookout Mountain in Georgia, we landed at the foot of the old bridge in Chattanooga. Having consumed Urban Stack burgers, Darling Donuts and all of the information and statistics from the two college campus visits, we were ready for a little fun.

The guys had a football with them and began an immediate passing game. The two of us girls sat and watched and laughed and were amazed at the young men cavorting in front of us, where boys in super hero capes had once stood. Just as dusk settled in, we paused for a moment in our family clusters and took turns photographing our families for each other.

The old metal bridge and lights in the background offer up a message to my heart - as we stood at the bridge of our son's life, of him beginning his journey into adulthood, we gathered close, hugged tight and knew in our hearts that the Light would be the only way we would bear the crossing of the bridge. 

Life of late has been a whirlwind. We are halfway into the kid at college scene now, with one child there and one child at home. Our oldest is in the middle of pledging at college. I have not had Face Time with him in four weeks. Our youngest is in the middle of waiting on scholarship information for college and reveling in his senior year, his job, his church work, his friends. 

When I went to title this layout, I did not have to search long or hard for an apt and fitting title. At this time in our life, any time that the four of us are together it is time that is so very treasured.

So Very Treasured ~ Family Trip, Chattanooga ~ April 2012

Paper: Pebbles

Fonts: Honey Script, Chaparral Pro

You Smiled Back

It can seem like a very silly holiday.  Especially if you factor in the balloon bouquets and carnation teddy bears at the local big box or the footie hoodie commercials on the little black box.  But, I think there are enough of us out there that have a deep-seated romantic penchant that likes to peek out every once in awhile, if for no other reason than to sustain its existence.

I know that with two teenage boys in the house, romance is on my list, oh let’s see…never.  Now if you want to talk about them doing their laundry or getting their bedroom floors visible, that turns me on.  Date nights?  Our last date was a Friday night disaster: it was a fast dinner and a walk around Wally World that was totally sandwiched in between homecoming football game drop-off and pick-up.

Married to the reality of life with my two darling, albeit messy, sons, is the deep-seated routine of sharing a life with the same man for all these years and sharing 24 Valentines.  There’s a lot of poetry in living life and loving your mate through time.  Life doesn’t come with everyday lace hearts and Belgian chocolates.  Somewhere, though, along the path of moves and sugar cookies and soccer games, something organic and rich grows.  My life and our love is richer and deeper and fuller than I could ever have predicted.

Steve and I met January, 1984, in the dimly lit lobby of Cathcart Hall.  He was the new guy in town.  We become fast friends and I liked that new sassy sweet red-headed Yankee.  I think a part of me knew then that he would someday be mine.

“WHEN I SAW YOU I FELL IN LOVE, AND YOU SMILED BECAUSE YOU KNEW.” WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

Thanks, baby, for the smiles, and the tears, and the life that we live, and the love in the years.

We Are Best Valentines ~ Valentines Day 

Sketch Credit: Scrapbook Generation http://scrapbookgeneration.blogspot.com

Paper: Crate Paper
Font: Pacifico