A Ticket

I have a ticket to fly to California! I am going to see our son and his bride. And I am going to touch a tummy to feel her kick, I hope!  She seems like a half remembered dream.  I can’t get my mind wrapped around the reality of her existence.  I see the pictures of the ultrasounds. And, yet….

I have felt a shift in my perception of my world, too. I don’t know if it is the recent birthday or the slowly developing thought of her coming.  Perhaps, both? Things I thought I wanted are fading. Even the things I thought I wanted for grands is changing.  I had some preconceived ideas about what I wanted to do and how I wanted things to be when they came to our house.  I may be letting go of those ideas in favor of more meaningful ones.

I was thinking about what my grandmothers meant to me. What happened when I was with them that made the difference? What made them so golden in my memory? They listened to me. They wanted me near them always. They just paused and connected with me.

I could tell them anything. Especially my maternal grandmother. I could say whatever and she would never be shocked.  Only one time did she fuss at me.  I was mad at my mother. I was about 18.  She told me to get over myself and be respectful and compliant with my mother’s wishes.  I don’t even know what the details of the disagreement were.

Time. Not toys, games, events, tea parties and costumes. Time is what they gave me. Never too busy to sit and snuggle or hold me in their laps.  Even as a gangly teen, my one granny would hold me in her lap. Our big adventures amounted to walking to the cemetery on a dark night or watching the full moon rise over the lake.

My paternal grandmother would let me do her makeup for her. I would smear the green primer over her smooth rosy cheeks.  Then, the foundation and powder. I think that is all she used.  I was quite young when I started.  I don’t recall ever seeing her correct my work.  She likely did when I wasn’t looking.  Later, after her stroke, when she would come visit, I would help her dress.  She didn’t really need the help, but it was a few moments of intimacy we both loved.

My own children were young when my mother left this world. They have some memories of her. His mother saw them to young adulthood before she left us.  Both of them left their mark on the lives of our children.  Our daughter is so much like both of her grandmothers. Our son, too, has some ideas traced to them.  His love of fun and ability to connect to people are part of that legacy.

What legacy will I create for the California Dream? I want her to know that she is loved as much as one human being can love another. Already. Even though she is elusive in my mind, she is rock solid in my heart.

I will be on a westbound airliner, soon, little one. The love is already pouring out of my eyes and down my cheeks.

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Monday Blues

I don’t hate my job.  But, Monday is a challenge for me.  Not because of my job, but because of all the undone things from the weekend.

I always seem to have too much to do on the weekends and in the evenings.  But, I don’t stay as busy doing as I should.  I like to sit and drink coffee.  Therefore, I stay behind.

I keep trying to remember I am not 25 and super woman anymore.  I used to go out in the yard and work all day in the flower beds.  I used to start at one end of the house and clean top to bottom, back to front, in a day.

Not only do I not have the physical energy and stamina, I don’t have as much enthusiasm to do so.  I want it done.  But, other things attract my attention.

I keep trying to figure out how to do all of it.  Work all week, cook supper, keep up with the washing, do all the dozens of little things that need doing to keep house. When do I get to the ceiling fans?  What about the rose bush that needs a good feeding before it gets too cold?

So, why didn’t I get a lot done this past Saturday?  Well, he got his four-wheeler running. He took it to the woods.  No way am I staying home when I can ride with him!  Of course, it was rough and tumble and wore me out.  But, I would rather be with him and be behind on chores any day of the week.

Someday, I will have time and energy to do all of it and keep up with everything.  But, not at the expense of time with him.

What about the upcoming weekend?  The women will be gathering again.  I have gumbo and ice cream to mix up.  Four generations of women laughing, talking, and just by being together, gaining courage and strength.

Mother would be so pleased. Is so pleased.  I am sure she knows about it.

We have lived in the house Mother built for ten years now.  No. She doesn’t haunt it.  But, when my little nieces come to visit, I feel Mother there with us.  When we all gather to visit at her sister’s house, no doubt her spirit comes to linger and laugh, too.  I certainly feel her closer after the visits.

We are still living her legacy.  Love, laugh, pull together to face the difficult things life brings.

The dust and the weeds will have to wait.  Love calls. I answer, “Here I come!”

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