My Favorite Possessions

I think about the things I would try to save if there were a fire in my house.  Those objects that are precious, have memories attached to them and can’t be replaced.   Those possessions that can give you a hug and a good feeling just by being there, being seen and being touched.

I have several of these irreplaceable items Some are out to be seen.  Some are safely tucked away.  And some are used daily.

My quilts are very important to me, but one is especially precious.  It’s hanging on the wall in our guest bedroom.  It’s so valuable to me because it is made from linens stitched by my grandmother and mother.  There are tablecloths, towels, napkins, dresser scarves and doilies in the quilt.  Then it is bordered in colorful handkerchiefs.

I can just feel those women around me when I am in the presence of that quilt.  It’s like a great big hug.  It speaks to me through its stitches and linens.  I would definitely grab it first, if there was a fire or a flood.

My great-grandmother’s bedroom set is in our bedroom.  Gramps and I have used it since we were married.   My grandmother was born in that bed.  It is made of cherry wood and is very ornate – very Victorian.  It has a tall headboard and footboard.

I can’t even tell you how cuddled and comforted I feel in Gram’s big bed.  I can just imagine the generations of women dusting those wooden boards and changing the linens and fluffing the pillows.  It’s an honor to keep up the tradition of loving my bed.  My dilemma?  I’m not sure I could carry it out in a disaster.

Now my mother’s silver tea set is very portable in case of a calamity.  It’s tucked away in a cupboard because we never use it anymore.  That’s not to say I don’t get it out and pet it periodically.  My mother had it sitting on the buffet, always polished and always shiny.  It reminds me of her in many ways.  She too was always polished and shiny.

I have some of my Daddy’s tools, which also are not very useful but are a treasure to me. He was a carpenter in the CB’s during WW II and was a general all-around fix-it kind of guy.  To have those tools that were used and touched by him so many times is a gift for me.  When I see them, I can almost hear him working and banging away on some project. Thinking of it now almost brings tears to my eyes.

Then there’s the diamond ring that Gramps gave me many years ago as a birthday present.  I wear it all the time.  It’s a daily reminder of his love and devotion to me. Coincidentally, the large diamond in the center is surrounded by six smaller diamonds, exactly the number of grandchildren we have.

The whole ring is a little remembrance of my entire family – all three generations.  I don’t go anywhere without it.

So obviously, all these possessions could not be gotten out of the house very rapidly.  But they could in a slow evacuation.  And you know what?  It doesn’t matter if I have any of these items really.

Because I carry all the people and memories in my heart, where they are safe from every disaster and can never be lost.

Chocolate! Chocolate! Chocolate!

I’ve always had a sweet tooth.  I’ve always loved a little dessert at the end of every meal, even it’s just a mint (no, not a rock!  See earlier blog entitled “Don’t Eat The Rocks!”) And believe me, if dirt was covered in chocolate, I would eat it in a heartbeat.

In my world nothing can be too sweet or too chocolatey.  Nothing soothes my taste buds like smooth gooey chocolate or dark chunky chocolate or even creamy white chocolate.

My favorite dessert is a hot fudge sundae, which in my mind is the perfect combination of textures, temperatures and colors.  And the perfect sundae ends evenly with no leftover fudge or ice cream.

My favorite wine is always sweet too.  The sweeter the better.  And let’s talk about chocolate wine, shall we?  Can it get any better?

Chocolate-covered anything is a great snack.  Put the perfect coating on nuts, raisins, fruit or, dare I say it, more chocolate and you have a food you can’t stop eating.  I mean it.  I’ve tried.

And are chocolate chips not the greatest invention since. . .  well, since chocolate sauce. Chocolate chips are the cutest little items that can be eaten by the handful or added to almost anything.  Think about it.  What wouldn’t be better with a cupful of little chips added to it?  I can’t think of a thing that wouldn’t improve with chocolate chunks.

Chocolate is such a useful substance.  It can be the center of a celebration on Valentine’s Day, anniversary, or birthday.  It can be your friend in times of stress.  It can be shared during a movie or be the highlight of a reception or gala.  It can be solid, gooey or liquid.

It very seldom spoils and will last a long time. . . except at my house!  Some people have allergies to chocolate and they are much to be pitied.  A life without chocolate is very small indeed.

Chocolate is most definitely a central part of my life.  And why not?!  I love it.  It could be worse.  But it can’t get much better.  I understand chocolate is even good for you.  That’s what I want to believe anyway.

Pardon me while I lick my fingers.  M&M’s eventually do melt in your hands, you know.  But they go down well with chocolate milk.

Oh my, I feel so good right now.  Chocolate high!!!

Sisters

I have no natural-born sisters.  But sisters at heart – I have dozens!

A sister to me is a girlfriend whom I love, who loves me back, no matter what.  If I hurt her or if she hurts me, we forgive each other and carry on.

A sister revels in your successes and cries with you when you are sad.  She wants the best for you and will defend you to the death.

A sister believes the best of you and supports you in your efforts.  No one enjoys your good times more than she does or laughs louder at your jokes.  She also points out your mistakes and loves you through them.

A sister is a soulmate in many ways.  She shares your secrets and confidences.  She knows your likes and dislikes and can often predict what you will order at a restaurant.

I have such sisters in my Quilting Bee.  We have known each other for years and yet never get tired of each others’ company.  We often comment how we all feel the need to get together more often than we do because we miss each other when we are apart.

We give each other good advice and not just about quilting.  About everything really – cooking, entertaining, grandparenting, decorating, car repair, computing, marriage, etc.  I learn something every time we are together.

Our group is very eclectic and economically diverse, but you would never know it.  You’d think we were all from the same family by the amount of love in the room.

In all the years I have been a part of this group, I have never heard a harsh word against anyone.  There are no cliques or little gangs amongst us.  And I believe the only curse word I ever heard was said by me in a frustrating sewing moment.  (I know!  I’m still sorry!)

This group is so special to me.  I knew I had to be a part of them the moment I first met them.  It’s a good thing they turned out to be quilters and not miners, because I would be deep in the mines right now.

These dear sisters share everything – no holding back.  They will give anything that is needed – ideas, knowledge, tools, patterns, fabric, support, hugs.  They will sit beside you, go with you, stand behind you, hold your hand and pat your back.  I have seen them make meals, finish others’ quilts, clean a house, drive a friend, pick up a family member and babysit a dog.

And talk about huggers!  These gals are the best huggers in the world!  I can always count on getting my quota of hugs on Bee day.  I always feel so warm and loved.

My quilting sisters set the bar high for kindness and goodness.  They make me a better person by just being around them.  How could I not be a better me when surrounded by my mentors of such high caliber?  I hope to be just like each one of them when I grow up.

These sisters of mine are top-notch quilters, too.  How lucky am I to have the best teachers to guide me?  They challenge me gently to constantly improve my skills and to never accept less than my best from myself.

I dearly love my sisters and know they dearly love me.  I count the days until we are together again.  We will greet each other with hugs and smiles.  We will laugh, talk, share stories, show our quilting projects, eat and continue on with more of the same.  It never gets old.

We can’t get enough of each other.  My sisters and me.

The Purpose Of A Funeral

I’m going to a funeral today.  I don’t want to go but I always go.  A funeral is necessary.  It’s an ending and a beginning.  It’s like a period at the end of a sentence.  Final in a way, but also suggesting more to follow.

A funeral is one way to say goodbye.  Even if you don’t know the person, which I don’t in this case, you can help the family and friends say farewell.  It helps to have the village around you.

A funeral is a good time to remember the person.  Grieving is all about remembering and talking about the lost.  They should never be forgotten and should be part of the conversation always.

A funeral is a time to grieve for all the lost ones.  Every time I attend a funeral I think about my mother, Daddy, my friend Sherry, her husband Paul and all the sweet souls that I miss so much.  It’s such an appropriate place and time to mourn for everyone.

A funeral is an organized ritual that provides comfort at a time when everything feels out of control.  It soothes the soul, provides stability, and makes sense in a tumultuous period.  It may be the only time when you can predict what will happen.

A funeral is a gathering of friends and family that can give you the strength you lack.  The clan will back you up and hold you when you most need it.  There will be a hand on you at all times, so you will not fall.

A funeral is the best time to cry all you want and need to.  You may have to stifle your tears in many other places because it is so inappropriate, but not at the funeral.  You can sob until the Kleenex box is empty, if you want, and no one will care.

A funeral is a chance to tell everyone about the lost one.  You can provide pictures, video, music, favorite treasures, stories and jokes.  Make it as personal and detailed as you want, so all will understand the depth of the life that has ended.

A funeral is a group activity that strengthens the whole village and gives it a common memory.  The entire group has a known and agreed-upon way to deal with loss and sadness.  The elders hold onto the memories and teach them to the younger ones.  This practice keeps the village stable and strong.

Really, a funeral is no small thing.  It is a huge thing that can be uncomfortable at times.  It makes us face our own mortality, but we are never alone.  We do it together.  Side by side.  Holding each other up.

So today I will go to a funeral with the rest of my village.

The Best Of Retirement

I started working at age sixteen and retired at age fifty nine. My retirement came suddenly and unexpectedly. I had no plans or expectations. I was completely blindsided and unprepared.

The first year was difficult. I didn’t know how to feel about myself with no job and no income. There were feelings of worthlessness, confusion and anxiety. It wasn’t a good transition. I don’t recommend it to anyone.

Slowly I started to fill my time with some worthwhile activities. They certainly helped but I was still floundering.

At the same time, my first grandson was born. Now that was super! I had plenty of time to spend with the baby and I did. What great memories I have now.

That started the formation of my philosophy of being a Granny. I knew then I wanted to be intentional about my actions and positive about my attitude.

I started sewing for my grandson and found some likeminded women to sew with. Life was getting better and I was more active.

It seemed the more I sewed and the more I joined other women who sewed, the happier I became. So, of course, I did more . . . . and more . . . . and more.

Now I am a quilter who belongs to six sewing groups – from a quilting bee to a wool embroidery group to an applique group. And my grandson, now 14, is one of six grandchildren that I have sewn many items for.

Retirement is such a blessing to me and I am busier now than when I was working. My life is also much more joyful. I don’t have to rush or be in a hurry. I have no deadlines, unless they are self-imposed. I can take my time now.

Retirement gives me time to do what I want, when I want. That includes more activities at church, lunch with the girls, sewing and maybe a good nap now and then.

Gramps and I have more time together. We talk more, share more, laugh more and hold hands more. We have time to go out for dinner, see movies, visit with friends and sing in the church choir.

Combining grandchildren with retirement is absolutely heaven sent! I can’t think of a better reason to keep working to retirement age.

In a word, retirement gives me time. Over the years I have learned the best ways to spend that precious commodity to enrich my life and my family’s life.

In the beginning, I wasted my time and I regret that very much. But no more. Every moment is a gift and it only comes once.

I have plans now. I have expectations of myself. I’m looking forward to every day. I’m excited. Know why?

I’m retired!!!!

 

My Phone, My Friend

I may be an elder woman but there are many modern technologies I love.  My television is very nice to have, even though the old black-and-white movies are the best.  My computer is a must and I use it daily for blogging and such.  But my favorite all-time, high-tech invention is my phone.

Remember when all you did with a phone was make a call?  I remember.  In fact, I remember rotary phones, phones on the wall with long twisty cords and party lines.  Our ring was two longs and a short.  It’s been long time!

I recall very well getting my first iPhone.  It was my birthday and I told Gramps I wanted one of the phones where I could scroll all my photos from bottom to top.  I didn’t even know what it was called!

I got the phone.  When I took it out of the box, my then-five-year-old grandson grabbed it out of my hand and began tapping buttons with his little thumbs.  Within seconds, he declared, “Granny, you need some apps!”

I didn’t know what apps were either.  I’ve come to learn he meant games, games and more games.  Which, of course, I now have, because I am the Granny and Granny always has entertainment for grandchildren.

But back to my phone.  It does make calls, of all kinds.  Local, long distance.  I suppose it would call the moon, if I knew anyone there.  But making calls is the least of its gifts.

My phone keeps me in touch.  In touch with the world, really but most especially with those I love.  We can, of course, call and talk to each other, which is a real treat.  We can write instant letters to each other at any time.  That is most precious to me.  I can keep up with all the generations all the time.

My phone keeps me safe.  I’m always just seconds from getting help at the push of a button.  That is huge in my world.  At my age, as much as I drive alone to events and gatherings, that support is priceless.

My phone keeps information and data always at the tip of my fingers.  I have phone numbers, addresses, photos, notes, calendars, reminders, deadlines, etc., all at my beck and call.  If it were all on paper, I wouldn’t be able to carry it, much less access it.

My phone gets me where I want to go.  The GPS, named Helen, is very reliable.  She speaks in a very monotone voice, pronouncing everything a little bit weird.  But she seems to know where she is going, so that’s okay.  It’s very reassuring to know Helen is always there, always awake, always ready to travel with me.

My phone takes great photos.  Can you even imagine being able to say that about a phone?  As a result, I have a wonderful record of places, events, friends, quilts, family and projects.  Many of them are completely irreplaceable and would never have been taken without a small phone being so handy in my purse.

My precious little phone is a real life-line and I can’t go a day without using it.  Yet it hasn’t been that many years that it has been a part of my life.  How quickly I have adapted!

Yet it can also be a nuisance.  Sometimes I think If I hear that ringtone one more time, I will scream!

Oops, there’s my phone.  Gotta go!

See you tomorrow!

The Gift Of Water

I can’t imagine turning on my faucet and nothing flowing out. I can’t imagine being unable to bathe any time I wanted. I can’t imagine not being able to water my garden and lawn whenever needed.

I can’t imagine these things because they have never happened. I’ve always had water available to me . And because of that, I’m sure I take it for granted.

If I had to walk miles for my water, I would be more grateful. If I had to carry my water for every use, I would be more grateful. If I had to boil my water to be sure it was clean, I would be more grateful.

But as it is, I use water daily without thinking about it. I trust it will always be available, be plentiful and be clean

Thinking about it now, I am ashamed that I am not more mindful of all the people involved in providing this luxury for me. ( And in most of the world it is a luxury.) How many people does it take to provide me with a glass water, anyway? I don’t even know.

I’m so used to water being in my life, I don’t even question it or worry about it. I’m embarrassed  to admit this all in public. but I know nothing can change unless ii is faced. So i admit to you, my sweet readers, I take clean water for granted.

I want to know better. I wants to do better. I want to be better. I want to be a mindful consumer. I want to be a grateful user.

That will only happen if I remember. Remember to be thankful each time I see water come from my faucet. Remember to not waste any of my precious water. Remember to use my water helpfully. Remember to think of those who provided my water. Remember those in the world who aren’t blessed with water as I am.

Yes, I will remember.

 

.