Tuesday, August 8, 2017

Jesus loves the little children


A year ago, on a Sunday morning, I am pretty sure that I was losing my mind while sitting in church, when the Pastor asked for people to volunteer to teach in the children's ministry. He wanted people to commit right then and there, like get out of your seat, walk down here to the front and sign up. YOU KNOW UP FRONT WHERE THE CAMERAS CAN SEE YOU, SO WE HAVE IT ON TAPE. Now, for those who don't know me, I sit on the back row for a reason, I want to be invisible, I want to worship quietly, have no one witness the ugly mess I become as the worship team moves me to tears, plus the fact that the air vent blows right on me when the hot flash decides to come to church with me. I am comfortable there, and I don't MOVE. Well, on this given Sunday, without first consulting the smarter half of me, GT guy, I got up and marched myself to the front of the church and signed both of our names to teach 3 year olds. After church as we sat in the madness of leaving a church parking lot, he calmly turned to me with that look on his face and said, "Lucy, what have you done?" 

Panic began creeping into my bones, what had I done? It would be a year commitment, and we both take commitment very seriously. I was missing my Grandchildren that had up until recently lived only 15 minutes away, but due to parents that loved and needed their careers they were now 8 hours away living literally in a Magic Kingdom, where Cinderella and Mickey are their new neighbors. Visits are few, and FaceTime is great but it can’t give you a hug or that sweet precious aroma of a grandchild.

So, we started our journey into the preschool ministry. Wow, so many things have changed since ours were that little; computer sign in with stickers for the child and the parent, background checks, emergency policies, all great and much needed things in today’s crazy world but also kind of sad too. You don't really get a chance to know the parents’ names because you are too busy matching stickers and making sure that the children collect all of that mornings projects before leaving.

On our first Sunday, we quickly felt our age (50 something); tiny tables, tiny chairs, sitting on the floor in crisscross applesauce style, the children were little (newly three) and we would have to squat to hear their tiny voices with our not so great hearing. There were tears at the door, letting go of Mom and Dad, there were some growing pains for all of us those first few weeks, and I thought to myself, ok Lord, am I in the right place?

After a few weeks, we found ourselves buying floor puzzles and treats, and we were talking about the children by their NAMES. We were attached! I found myself looking forward to looking at the lesson plans and learning the bible verse, looking forward to seeing their sweet faces as they worshiped in big group in song and watching them listen to the story. I even found myself going back to my own time as a child in Sunday School and how much I loved Miss Rhetta and Miss Francis. I loved hearing the simplicity of the stories, told so that a child can take it to heart, and believe me they do. I loved watching how these children see no race, no color, no language barriers, how they care for one another when one is hurting, or how they give up that baby doll that they love so much because a friend wants to play with it. I loved watching them turn from 3 to 4 and how their tiny hands that just scribbled at first were now coloring works of art and signing their names, I loved watching my 6’2” husband on the floor with kids climbing on top of him like he was a mountain with pure joy in their eyes, or the time he had to stay home because he was sick, they immediately asked me, " where is Mr. Michael?"  I loved that by the end of the year the ones that were so hesitant walked in and ran into our arms for hugs, that the little girl that would never say a word was now our master puzzle solver and always had a grin on her face. I loved handing them back to their parents, and seeing how much they are loved and cherished, and hearing thank you for taking care of our child. My heart ACHED a little when a Grandparent picked up a child, oh what I would give to spend every Sunday with my two.

The time flew by, the year was up, changes are coming, our little group is moving up and we are also a year older with new issues that life has thrown us, so we are not serving in the children's ministry for now. Our last Sunday was sparse, I am sure that parents are getting ready for their kids going back to school and most of ours would be starting pre-K.  I wanted to tell every parent, thank you! Thank you for sharing your child!

Oh, the lessons I have learned. You see, sometimes we think that we are serving to meet someone else's need when God knows that he is meeting ours.

Tuesday, November 3, 2015

The Wedding Letters

 
Dear Adam,
Thank you for loving our Elcie, Delcie, Kelsey, Sunrae! A name given to her shortly after she was born by her Pop-Pop. You are the North to her South, the Boston Red Sox to her Atlanta Braves, the coney to her hot dog, the Tom Brady to her Harry Potter. You two were made for each other. The Fraternity Guy with a heart of service that earned him an award for raising money for St Jude, and continues in your line of work, and our crazy red head that empties her pockets for the homeless she passes on the street. We had our doubts at first... especially when you flatly refused to try Granny's coconut cake, and the fact that you could never understand why we have Cole slaw at every family dinner, but over time we came to understand that you could not help being born a Northerner.
You two have had your struggles along the way, that is for sure, and we have watched as you have handled each and every situation with grace and always had each other's back. We are so very proud of both of you and know that great things are ahead like, the Braves and Red Sox making huge comebacks next year!
In the meantime, welcome to our family!

Dear Elcie, Delcie, Kelsey, Sunrae,
You are our sunshine, our only sunshine, you make us happy even when skies are grey. You may have told us a time or two that we are NOT on your team, but look out here, honey, we are all on the benches cheering you on, and we will always be here. Your determination, compassion, and joy for life are an inspiration. Go, have a beautiful life with your Prince Charming, Adam, and of course, Brady and Chipper! I just bet that on that bench up in heaven, Pop-Pop, Michael Jackson, Tommy, and McGuiver, are all cheering you on!
We love you both, very much!

Sunday, December 21, 2014

Stir Fry or Blended?


Well, I should start by saying; it has been a long, long, road to get back to the key board.  Some of you have kept encouraging me to bring back Sugarbytes, but honestly, my spirit wasn’t in it. I dealt with some pretty serious health issues, a torn rotor cuff and surgery, pneumonia, and a very serious kidney infection, those alone were enough to wipe me out, but nothing prepares you for the loss of a Grandchild. There is no surgery, no drug, nothing to take away that deep pain, and just when you think your heart is shattered for good you realize that your child lost their child. Your baby boy will never have his baby boy to hold, to play with, to teach, to love. That is when your heart starts to rebuild because that parent part of you knows that you have to make sure your child can survive this. So, let me say, I have brave strong, wonderful kids, who are surviving and who will be reunited one day with their precious Son.

Now, what’s up in Sugarville??
 
Let me say, it has been a roller-coaster, lots of lessons learned. I hate the term, "blended family" when I hear that I think of smoothies. You know, you throw a nice orange, some sweet berries, and a smooth yogurt all into the blender and out comes a creamy, smooth delicious drink. Well, that may be the case for some, but let me tell you, here in Sugarville we are not a "blended” family. We are more like a stir fry. You know, you already have a hot sizzling pan, you throw in some spicy beef, a few snappy peas, some corny things and some spicy peppers, and let them sizzle. Sometimes, it comes out great; sometimes it needs more seasoning or gets too overheated or too mushy. Yep, we are a stir fry. The good news is we like working at it, finally. Kind of like Chow Baby, you’re never going to get the same stir fry twice.
Butterbean
I have realized that I am a strong woman, much stronger than I ever imagined, and that even when an alligator shows up in my yard, (true story) I don’t let it faze me. I have a big heart, one that has seen and had its share of abuse, but still keeps on ticking. I have seven amazing kids who have taught me more than school ever did, a Butterbean who challenges me to stay young and be the best Nonnie I can be. And of course my GT guy, who is honestly the most patient man on the planet, he keeps me grounded and he knows how to handle the stir fry like a pro. I have friends that I treasure more than gold, and a new Church that I am learning to trust. I don’t always get it right, that’s for sure and any one of my kids would tell you that on any given day, but it’s really not about getting it right or making it perfect or well blended, it’s about keeping it spicy, hot, and interesting. So I will keep trying, mix it up, make it work, even if it’s just one stir fry at a time…

Merry Christmas everyone, may you all be blessed, may you all have peace, and I look forward to filling you in and writing from Sugarville in the New Year!!

Merry Christmas Baby Angel

Merry Christmas my tiny Angel. You should be here with us, six months old, a bundle of goodness, joy to all around you. This would be your first Christmas, and since you cant be with your Mommy and Daddy or me, your Nonnie, I know that Jesus has you in his arms and you will celebrate with him. I think about you so very often, wondering what you would be doing if you were here, if you would look like your sweet sister, what type of little boy would we see. I cry sometimes, and ask why? I know God needed you to be with him, and one day I shall see you, but right now, right this minute it is hard. Heartbreak for me and so many, but nothing like the heartbreak of your Mommy and Daddy. They have been so very brave. I am so thankful your Mommy got to hold you, and that we have a picture of you. As your Nonnie, it is a double whammy to be heartbroken for the loss of my Grandson and to also be heartbroken to see my Child go through such a loss Your Daddy is a very brave young Man, he was a soldier, served his country, and now he is a Great Father to your sister, and works very hard for his family. He is very funny, always making everyone around him laugh, but as his Mom, I know he holds a lot deep inside. Your Mommy is a school teacher, so pretty and so funny as well. She is a good Mommy and misses you every single day. She is doing lots better and has even helped others who have lost their babies. Your Sister is three, just this week. She is very smart, and one of the friendliest little girls I have ever known, loves everyone, knows everyone in her big extended family, she is very independent and brings so much joy into our lives, just as you would have.  It is scary down here sometimes, the world seems to be getting crazier and crazier, but it helps knowing we have a special Angel up there, I know you watch over us because you send us signs, like the balloon release at your memorial when a heart was formed in the sky, or the baby Cardinal that appears just outside my window. Even today, leaving Church I saw a little one about your age and my heart ached but I also felt a strong sense of love.  Merry Christmas my sweet Peter, may you dance and sing with the cherubs this Christmas, and till that day when we are reunited, know that you're are thought of, loved and missed every single day.

Thursday, January 31, 2013

I called her Granny

She passed away January 9, 2013.

Just a few months short of her 91st birthday.

Her name was Geraldine,
but I called her Granny.

I don’t think I ever thought she would die. In all honesty, I thought she would out live me. I have been taken a back at how sad I am and how much I now know I will miss her. She was the most independent woman I have ever known; set in her ways; not a touchy, lovey, dovey type; but you knew where you stood with her and she would tell you exactly how things should be. I admire the way she never second guessed herself (unlike me).

I remember as a child going to her house and always reaching for the red photo album that held pictures of her in her hot pants and go-go boots. She had gorgeous legs, and was quite a beautiful woman. I loved those pictures; when she passed I asked about them and no one knows where they are. I secretly think she destroyed them; she thought they showed a wild side of her, but I thought they showed a young woman, gorgeous, enjoying every moment of her life.

She worked hard her entire life and retired from the Arrow shirt company. She was an excellent seamstress and made many of my Mothers clothes. She was also an excellent cook; I think any one who knows me has at one point or another had a piece of “Granny Cake”. A few years ago my sister and I sat down with her in her kitchen; we were making Granny's Cookbook. We had so much fun listening to her stories and trying to write down the recipes, kind of hard when she would say, a pinch of this or a pat of that, but now whenever I look at the cookbook, I just have to laugh, knowing all the ingredients that she left out.....on purpose!! Sadly, there will never, ever, be another Granny Cake, she took that with her.

She sat Royally at every family dinner, sometimes taking her hearing aide out and pinching Kelsey (who always sat next to her ) telling her to let her know if anything worthwhile was said. She thought we all talked too much... She was classy, always dressed in her Alford Dunner and the latest fashion in shoes and handbag. I never saw the woman without lipstick except for the last time I visited her in the hospital. Even though she was only days away from passing on, she was flirting with the male nurse, telling him he was the best looking man she had ever seen, and him eating it up telling her, she was his favorite girl.

She drove her Park Avenue till she turned 90 years old, and worked a word search puzzle every day of her life, she read countless numbers of books, and played cards with best friends, Bertie and Gertie (no lie) twice a week, of course she was very competitive especially when it came to cooking! If you made something that everyone liked and raved over, she would go home and figure out how to make it better, then make it and call you up and tell you all about it. Most of my life I spent Christmas Eve at Granny's. Brunswick stew, cornbread, potato salad, barbecue, ham, and of course Granny's coconut and chocolate cake. She also did a killer chocolate pie, but my favorite was always the sweet potato pie. We would sit on the screened in porch at her old house and later as we grew in numbers piled into her living room at her new place. She was like a Queen holding court and opening all her gifts, half of which you knew she didn't like.

She was a perfectionist, her house so clean and organized you could eat off the floor. I actually tried to clean for her once and was promptly fired. She would frustrate the Pope if given the chance, but at the same time she was there for any sick friend or neighbor in need. She was a caregiver, true from the heart. I thought for many, many, years that she she just did not like me. I think I frustrated her, and I think she preferred my Sister, and of course everyone knew that my cousin, Jerry was her all time favorite. Not too long ago, before she was really sick, I stopped by to say hello. It was, of course, the wrong time because The Young and The restless was on, so there was little conversation and I could tell she wanted me to go. I stood up to say goodbye and she surprised me, she stood up, grabbed my arms and looked me right in the eye and said, "I really, really, do love you!" I will never forget it or how much it meant to me.

I can honestly say, I never heard her raise her voice, I never heard her sing. I did hear her words of advice that I have kept close to my heart, some that make me giggle to this day, and I did hear her many, many, times say how proud she was of her three kids, and how much she loved them. They taught us all the meaning of Honor thy Mother. They did it very well. I will miss this woman very, very, much, and I will think of her often. With the death of a family matriarch, I pray there will not be the death of a family. There will be no more Christmas Eves at Granny's, no more milestone celebrations in her honor, cousins will loose touch, an era will be gone..... Goodnight Geraldine, you left a beautiful legacy, your family. You will never be forgotten, and thank you for telling me you loved me.

Sunday, August 19, 2012

Nonnie in a box

I love being a Nonnie.
It fills my heart so full that at times I feel it may just burst.
I can be in a real pity party, head banging mood, and think of my Eden and all is right with the world.

I look at her in awe. This little creature that came from my little creature. I HATE being clear on one side of the country and my Butterbean being on the other. I was spoiled while Evan was deployed; Nancy was so gracious and good to us, she would come stay with us and I would be in heaven. She would bring Butterbean into my room early in the morning and give her to me and I would have all this precious alone time.



I would tell her stories of her Daddy and tell her about all of our future shopping trips. I would tell her stories about our crazy family and all the people who are no longer here but would love her so very much. It was such a great time. I would pray every night for Evans safe return and God blessed us by bringing him back to U.S. soil.

It was time for him to be reunited with his Daughter and his wife. As long as I live, I will never forget the day I had to say goodbye to Eden. I had gotten to keep her all that last day while Nancy was in a wedding. We were at my Mom's house and Kelsey was there. We had such a great day playing with her and dressing her up, but the time finally came for Nancy to pick her up. They would be leaving for Washington.

I was not prepared for the emotions that over took me. I am so thankful my Mom was waiting for me as I turned around, she literally held me while I sobbed. A Nonnie should not have to be so far apart from her Butterbean. I slowly started focusing on the fact that she needed to be with her Mommy and Daddy, but it was very, very, hard.

Now, there they are in Washington, this little family of three, and I have become Nonnie in a box.  We facetime almost every other night and Butterbean just acts as if it is the most normal thing in the world. Actually, she mostly ignores me unless Poppie is in the box, then she is transfixed and all googoo eyed.  I have gotten to see their beautiful apartment, and I get to see their sweet, gorgeous faces, and it is a wonderful thing.

I do worry though, that when we do get out there to visit, will she scream in fright at seeing us outside of the box??   Oh, the trials of a Nonnie....

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

Help, I am stuck


So, the journey continues into the world of menopause.
Yep, I said it OUT LOUD and who really gives a flip. I guarantee that if you are a girl , woman, or have a vagina, you too will get here. I will start praying for you now, if you sign your name to the bottom of this post. I dare you.
 
My body seems to have a mind of its own these days, somewhere between Madonna and Bea Arthur; I mean that energy wise. Some days I jump out of bed ready to conquer the day and all that could possibly be in it; I can hit the park and walk almost 3 miles, come home and clean top to bottom, and still be going strong at midnight. Oh yes, going strong as in RESTLESS legs, no sleep, mind going in a thousand directions and kicking the covers completely off the bed, fan on highest speed, and my sweet GT guy never complains. Sometimes I want to beat him. Then other days it takes every single ounce of muscle just to get me up. Walking to the bathroom feels like the walk to the electric chair.
 
As crazy as my physical moods are my emotions are off the richter scale. I can cry watching golf. Road Rage is daily emotion. There are way too many idiots on the road..... or maybe there are too many menopausal women on the road. The hot flashes, the mood swings, the thought that your reproductive parts are shriveling up to raisins (that was an exact quote from my Dr) while your husband remains fertile till death, is bad enough, but the fact that you start putting on weight in places you NEVER had a problem is just down right annoying as ......you get the picture.
I eat half of what I used to, I walk miles every week, I drink gallons of water, I pass on the nightly glass of wine, and that darn scale lies to me viciously every single morning. I know it is lying because there is no way I weigh what it says I weigh. NO WAY.
 
I had a good day not too long ago, I had actually slept through the night, woke up normal and not a sweaty mess, had good energy. Took a shower, did my hair and make up, put on a cute outfit, felt really good about myself. One of those days where you feel thinner than normal; a good, good, day. I took myself to the North Georgia Outlets where I found an adorable denim dress at The Loft. I picked out my size and proceeded to the dressing room. I quickly realized stepping into the dress was not an option, so here it went over my head. Well, I was horrified to find it was not going down over my boobs. Knowing that the next option was a SIZE bigger; I totally went into denial. I tugged and pulled till I had worked up a sweat and got the darn thing at least over my boobs. BIG MISTAKE!
 
The dress would neither go down any further, nor would it go back up any further. I was mortified!!!!!!!! I was stuck in a dress in a dressing room. I thought about calling Michael to come and bring scissors, but even that was enough to make me want to just fake my death right then and there. I finally laid on the floor (my feet were sticking out of the dressing room) and wiggled and prayed my way out of the dress. Then I calmly put my clothes back on and walked proudly out. When the sales girl asked how did it do, I very loudly proclaimed it was too BIG. ← True story.

I am dedicating my body to science. I am sure they will be just as baffled as I am.