Friends

Oh, for simple days like this!

The first three kids are my best friend Betty's kids. We had SO much fun in those days! Betty's kids were the nicest children on the planet.

Poor Daughter. She is the only one without a pop-up book. Not to worry, it has been noted and will soon be remedied!

Jump ahead a few years. The same kids, only now walking home from school together.

Good friends are so hard to come by. I will be eternally grateful that my kids had these kids as their friends.

Oh. And those two teachers. They deserve a book!

My Day

Famke is five months old today!

Tooth number four made it's appearance today, then disappeared, then reappeared. Imagine that.

She wanted to snuggle all day, which was perfectly fine with me! The new rocker has proven to be well worth the cost.


Jonge is teething also.

Since Famke is teething, Jonge is teething, and Beppe (that is me) is feeling 49 we pretty much had a TV day.

We watched two episodes of Mr. Roger's. Although we watched a musical segment about 20 times. Jonge is all about music, rhythms, dancing and silly songs. Today I was all about keeping everyone happy.

He also watched three Mickey Mouse Clubhouse shows that I had on DVR.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen. I even gave him lunch in front of the TV. Someday I'm sure I will write a post about the ill effects of television viewing for toddlers, but not today.

Somedays one just has to do what works.

Tomorrow is a new day. I did already promise him that we would watch the musical segment from Mr. Roger's again and again. I will probably forget, but he won't.

I can't get over how much he reminds me of his Uncle Oldest Son. It's uncanny. Especially the way he sits all snugly in a chair to watch Mr. Roger's. I feel as if I am reliving a piece of history.

Friday

Oh, it's been a GOOD day today.



I took my dad to see the eye doctor today. He has been cleared to wait six more months before having cornea transplants. Waiting doesn't hurt anything, and, it has actually meant that he will qualify for a new procedure which wasn't available when he first knew he would need the transplant. And, he passed his eye test for driving during the day. This was ALL good news.



While I was with my dad, my southern sister was staying with my mom. Someone was coming to do a home evaluation. She left my sister with much useful information, and I already have them set up for senior meals. This alone will be a big relief for my dad.



Making phone calls sure does eat up a large portion of an afternoon.



And, I forgot to eat lunch. I actually got out the remaining 'hamburger soup' from last Sunday's soup supper. Yuck. I couldn't eat another bite. Silly me. I didn't eat anything.



At five o'clock I ran downstairs to put the sheets in the dryer. Running up the steps my head began to go all wonky. That peanut butter on whole wheat bread was no longer with me. I found some nuts and quickly ate those. Will I never learn? Looking at me, you would never think that I am someone who forgets to eat.



Since I needed the car today, Daughter graciously offered to pick her father up from work. So, I got to end my evening holding a smiling Famke, who is just one chuckle short of laughing. Jonge asked for "Aidens" which we finally figured out were "Raisens". I don't think he ate much else besides that, with some pickles and marshmallows thrown in to round it out.



It is now 11:37 and THGGM just passed through the kitchen with a load of dried sheets. I've a hungry dishwasher to fill, and guests arriving for breakfast at 10:00.



Oh, and I am listening to some Sirius Christmas music.



Furniture has been moved to accommodate trees. The tree won't be in the front window, but that is fine with me. I have a small tree for Jonge to play around with. I think that after next week we will start making some decorations for 'his' tree.



Having a baby around at Christmas time reminds me of how Oldest Son and Daughter got the idea that Youngest Son was the PERFECT baby for their cardboard box manager. He was eight months old and happy to lay around on his back in a box. They would position him under the light in our dining room and have the GREATEST time reenacting the Christmas story in a way that only a dramatic 3 1/2 year old and his two year old sister could.



Oh, yeah. Those were GOOD days, too.

The Twins

They are both 80 now, and suffering from Alzheimer's.

But, this is who they are, too.

Teenagers enjoying a summer's day at Aunt Bea and Uncle Louie's sandwich shop. A place they loved to go!

My mom is the one on the right.

Happy Blog Anniversary to Me

I have been at this blog for THREE years.
Wow.
I still cannot believe that anybody bothers to read me.
Thank you, thank you, thank you, my faithful friends.

July Days of My Past

This summer seems to be happening just outside my window. Only the heat penatrates my home.

Not so different from the summer's of my childhood.

My dad always had vacation in July. My parents NEVER just sat around. The only work ethic I knew as a child was 'get your work done, and then THEN relax'.

So, on any given summer day in July, my dad could be found working on a project. My mom's goal was to finish up her housework in the cool of the morning and then take a lawn chair and a magazine into the backyard.

I danced around this scene for most of the years of my childhood.

Our summer vacations never included 'camping'. From some accounts one would wonder how our family stayed intact without that.

That's because WE were bonding even closer in the backseat of a car as we traveled from motel to motel cross country.

I'm the youngest. I sat in the middle of the backseat.

I remember little about our destinations. It's the drive I remember.

One particular trip took us through the mountains of Pennsylvania. I remember them well.
What my dad remembers is looking for a spot to pull off so his youngest daughter could vomit.

I'm a loooong way from those days. What hasn't changed is the feeling that I'm trapped in a stuffy backseat. While other people ooooh and aaaaah over beautiful vistas I'm staring at the back of heads wonder how in the world I can get this all to stop so I can throw-up.

Spike and Baby Bear

Oldest Son entered school in the first grade. We didn't send him to kindergarten because he could already read and write.

It was a 1st/2nd grand split class, and he worked along with the 2nd grade. His teacher recommended that we place him in a program for gifted children. We declined.

Until, that is, the next year when he was a 2nd grader in a 1st/2nd grade classroom and not being challenged enough.

So, we sent him.

This was one of his projects.

I LOVE it.

Over the weekend I did the switch from winter clothes to summer clothes and found Spike and Baby Bear. They were in the bottom drawer of my dresser, way in the back.

Goodness. They HAVE seen better days!

Baby Bear is missing his nose.


And, Spike is missing his eyes. This one is actually Spike the 2nd, as the first one disappeared without a trace, leaving behind only his really cool hat.

We kept Oldest Son in the gifted program for only a year.

All children are gifted. Yours, mine and everybody else's too.

Anyway, Oldest Son has 'put away childish things' but I'm keeping Spike and Baby Bear.

I need them.

Memories Hung Out on the Line to Dry

I think you will be finding many memories here, as I ponder the idea of 'memory'.

Oh, and the time for hanging things on the line has come!

I'm combining the two because the sky is just so wondrously blue today.

If three is considered a collection, then I collect children's hankies. The two on the left I used when I was a little girl. The one on the right is a more recent acquisition.

I found the hankies in my cedar chest this morning. I was looking for something else, and there they were. It was like they were hidden away waiting to scream 'SURPRISE!'

They didn't. But the tiger hanky does bring up a deep and very vivid memory for me.

When I was little, like all the little girls I knew, Sunday meant church and Sunday School. Every Sunday, my mom would give me a nickel to put into the offering plate.

Fearing that I might lose my nickel, mom would put it into the corner of the hanky and tie it in a knot.

I cannot begin to tell you the fear and dread that this knotted nickel put into my heart.

Oh, the panic as the wicker basket made it's way down the rows of neatly dressed children.

Would I be able to get my nickel out of that tight little knot?

Isn't it odd that I cannot remember either way? Was there ever a time when I actually DIDN'T get the nickel out? Did I ever feel a burst of inner joy when the knot came free? That part I don't remember.

But, I DO remember picking, pulling even biting the knot trying to free the nickel.

Good grief. Maybe I should just forget about the memory and try to figure out why I cannot get myself out of the tight little knotted hanky of my life.

Nah.

Memory

This picture is at least ten years old.

I believe it was taken at Youngest Son's 8th grade graduation.

My mom is four inches taller than her mom.

I am three inches taller than my mom.

Daughter is three inches taller than I am.

How tall is New Baby going to be???

This is a picture of how I will always picture my mom.

It wasn't long after this that my mom had 'a talk' with me. She told me that she was really starting to fear that she was 'losing it'. Of course, I brushed this off, as I didn't see it. Or, I didn't want to see it.

Anyway, she made me listen.

One thing that she told me was that she feared looking dowdy. She had an aunt who was a very classy lady. Even when she began to developed Alzheimer's my great uncle was able to keep her looking classy and well put together.

My mom's fear? My dad would not be able to do this for her.

And it's true. He can't. While it is important to my dad that colors match, he has never had a problem with mixing plaids. When my mom had her breast cancer surgery, she told me that if she died to be sure to sew "Grr-animal" tags to all of his clothes. "You can wear a giraffe with an elephant, but never with a zebra."

The sad thing is, I'm about as into fashion as my dad is. And, to put it frankly, my mom is looking dowdy. While I don't mix plaids, I do tend to wear way too much blue. At least it matches.

This whole thing has me so upset. She trusted me to have her leaving the house looking socially acceptable, but I feel as if I am failing her there.

It mattered SO much to her.

If I seem distant or like I am not writing much it is because I am delving into the world of memory.

And, I'm not coming up with much.

What are we without our memories?

What makes us 'persons'?

What happens when what makes us who we are is gone?

Where does it go?

Where IS the memory of someone struggling with dementia?

IS there a way to retrieve memories from other portions of the brain?

Baby Boy has been SUCH a God-send to my mom. He triggers in her all that was good and happy in her life. They adore each other.

But it all just makes me wonder...

...are we anything more than our memories?

This was the ONE thing my mom did not want to have happen to her. She did not want to wither away like her aunt.

Sadly, her aunt and uncle died in a car accident when they were in their late eighties.

I'm sure Aunt Hattie was thankful to get her memory back.

I've been married for almost 29 years. My sisters are older than me.

The other night my mom asked dad, "Are the kids home yet?".

Good Neighbors

Long long ago, in a time far away from now, there lived a daddy, mommy, 3 year oldest son, 1 and 1/2 year old daughter and infant youngest son.

The daddy worked every Saturday and didn't arrive home until 11:30 at night.

The infant youngest son loved his sleep.

The mommy would pile everyone into the bathtub on Saturday evening and then feed and bundle the infant youngest son off to bed.

Then it became time for a favorite ritual. "Good Neighbors" and yellow popcorn.

Yes. Every Saturday night at 7:30 we three cuddled up together on the couch and watched Tom, Barbara, Jerry and Margo do silly things that made us laugh.

The show was already nine years old then, but we neither knew nor cared.

This weekend, in a time not so long ago or far away from now, Oldest Son and Daughter-in-law came to visit. Oldest Son brought along his DVDs of "Good Neighbors". or as it was called in England, "The Good Life".

Today, he introduced Baby Boy to the wonders of "Good Neighbors". We replaced the yellow popcorn with Steenstra's Santa Claus Cookies instead.

Truly, one cannot bring back the past. But, today we came pretty close to that time long long ago and far away from now.

And it was very good.

My Mom

Before February ends, I have to tell you about my mom.

Remember her? The one who turned 80 years old yesterday.

She is an identical twin. Her sister also turned 80 yesterday.

My mom was the twin that was incredibly sick. She had terrible kidney problems, and wasn't expected to survive her early childhood.

But, she did.

When she married my dad she weighed 99 pounds on a good day.

When she was pregnant with her second child, it was suggested by her OB that she terminate her pregnancy. Her heart was so enlarged he did not think she would survive.

But, she did.

When she was in her late 50's, she developed breast cancer.

Obviously, she survived that too.

For 59 years she has kept alive a husband who didn't stand much of a chance of survival either. He was born with an extremely serious heart defect. Nobody knew it until eight years ago when he had it corrected (on Valentine's Day).

She nursed him through back surgery, kidney stone surgery, broken bones, strokes, heart failure, COPD and prostate cancer, just to name a few.

She's never flown in an airplane. She won't ride on boats. She was never a good driver. She always wanted to go to Florida, but never has.

But, if you were to ask her about her life she would tell you, "I've been blessed."

The crowning jewels of her life are her three daughters, her eight grandchildren and her one great grandson. Even though she has dementia, she still asks me regularly how the 'new' great grandbaby is coming along.

Yesterday when she was here, she told me that she had tried to reach her twin sister, but she didn't get an answer. She commented to me that she was probably out for the day. Then she told me that she feels sorry for her, not having any children to celebrate with. I feel sorry for her, too.

Then a little bit of her dementia, and how she copes with it showed up. I asked her if her younger sister had called. She pondered that thought for just a minute and looked at me and said "I don't remember. Knowing her, I am sure she did. When dad gets here, ask me again. He'll know. Then he will tell me what she said and I'll remember." Sure enough, that's exactly what happened.

My mom has dementia.

She's surviving that, too.

Some Days I Feel Just Like this Bird.

The Girl Nextdoor Gets Married

Oh! What a beautiful wedding!

The church was beautiful. I walked past this church on my way to and from school four times a day for five years of my life and never would have guessed what a gorgeous mini-cathedral was inside.

They had two musicians, but between the two of them they played piano, keyboard, pipe organ, saxaphone, flute and some instrument I had never seen before. It was SO beautiful!

Cindy's dad sang two songs also.

Amazing, how those neighbor kids grow up! I can still remember Cindy coming to our front door on the morning she lost her first tooth. She happily announced that she had lost a tooth, and then backed it up by saying, "Well, I didn't actually LOSE it, it's right here!"

Happy Birthday, Oldest Son!

Where does the time go? How is it that Oldest Son could be 26 years old? How? I want to know! I want to go to the place where the time went, and spend a little more of it with this boy.

Because I happen to know that he was JUST BORN!

I remember it all so well.

From having worked with children, I always wondered what they were thinking.

I asked God for a baby that would talk early, and tell me what he was thinking.

Good grief! What was I thinking!?

He wasn't more than two when I realized that he didn't ask questions like other kids his age. So, I asked him, "Oldest Son, why don't you ask questions?"

He looked me square in the eye like I was some sort of idiot and replied "Because I already know everything."

Isn't he handsome?

He still is.

I'm sure THGGM would have taken the day off to play Risk with him today, if Oldest Son still lived in Michigan.

(do you hear 'cats in the cradle' playing in the background?...)

Happy Birthday Oldest Son!

I'm so thankful God gave you to our family!

Did You Know...

...that Magnum PI first aired on this night, 26 years ago?

I remember.

I was in labor.

It was a LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONG night.

"Memories, Flood the Corners of My Mind"

Misty, migraine-colored memories, of the way we were.

This creepy looking little pillow is THGGM's favorite Christmas decoration. If I 'forget' to put it out, he will say in his best whiny voice, "Where's my pillow?"

When my children were the age they are in that pillow to the left, I had the best 'best friend' in the entire known universe. She had a daughter Oldest Son's age, and two older boys whom she homeschooled.

She would take ALL THREE OF MY CHILDREN in exchange for me doing artsy stuff with her kids.

Her boys were so much fun! The clothes pin angels reminded me of the time THGGM, her two boys and I sat around our kitchen table and made dozens of crazy looking clothes pin ornaments. THGGM made a 'snow princess' which really impressed us all. I should have kept her, and called HER my favorite Christmas decoration and see if he would allow that to be on display! Anyway...I digress.

The pillow was made by coloring on a sheet of paper with fabric crayons, and then ironing it on to a piece of white material. It was one of our 'artsy' projects. THGGM wasn't present when I made this one, so - being poor and all - I made my sample project into a Christmas gift. He LOVED it. I'm sort of embarrassed by it. I got a little too much crayon on the kids facial features, and they ended up with very large mouths (i always wondered how that happened, seeing how i'm so quiet).

Each child has behind his back two things that were very important to them at the time. Youngest Son has his Ernie doll and his bear blanket. They were ever-present in his young life. Oldest Son has Baby Bear and a book. He always had a book. Baby Bear now lives in the bottom drawer of my dresser - in hopes that someday I can repair his nose. Daughter has our cat at the time, Dude, and 'who-knows-what'. She ALWAYS had 'who-knows-what', though I know not why.

That's how they dressed, too. Back in the 80's.

The pillow is more than twenty years old.

I'm having a hard time believing that, but it's true.

The Obituary

THGGM comes from a very interesting family, which is putting it mildly.

That he is the person he is today is a glowing example of the grace of God.

For two years before her death we lived next door to THGGM's grandmother. This was wonderful for Oldest Son, as she adored him much as she did THGGM. This was not true of the rest of us. Thankfully, Daughter and Youngest Son have little to no memory of her.

Family dysfunction is nothing new.

THGGM's grandmother only liked sons and grandsons. This might have had something to do with having lost her first baby, a boy, whose booties and silk bonnet lay forever protected in my cedar chest. Her next oldest son died 26 years ago. I remember his funeral clearly, as I was pregnant with Oldest Son, who developed a severe case of the hiccups during the service. The jumping of my stomach caused THGGM and I to cover our laughter by pretending we were overwrought with grief.

The daughters all live on, marching into old age. One, at least, carrying on the trait of not liking girls.

THGGM's grandmother died. Nobody believed she ever would. She lived with congestive heart failure for over thirty years. She continued to rule her family from her grave. One very hot summer day after she died, THGGM was chatting with his mother. She was telling him of the very long list of things she had to accomplish in this heat. One of them was "water the flowers at grandma's grave". He asked her why she didn't just NOT do that one. She looked at him aghast and in horror said "she would KILL me if I didn't go today". THGGM thought this was peculiar, but I'm not so sure she wouldn't have.

Anyway, back to family dysfunction...

THGGM's grandmother finally did die. There was no funeral. She did not want one. But, there was an obituary in the paper.

It read like this "THGGM's Grandmother went to be with her Lord on..."

Well. ONE of the sisters did not like this. She did not agree with it. She was outraged. She called her pastor, who assured her that a woman so mean could not possibly have gone 'to be with her Lord'.

The next day, the Obituary read "THGGM's Grandmother passed away on..."

This sort of sums up the family.

I always like to imagine what must have happened when the Grand Rapids Press arrived in heaven.

"Sally, you were sent here by mistake. Thankfully for all of heaven and eternity, your oldest daughter has brought this to our attention, so you can just go to hell."

Thankfully, her oldest daughter doesn't rule heaven.

The grace of God is truly an amazing thing. No one is worthy of it. No one.

Yet, it is available to everyone. Even if your daughter doesn't think you deserve it.

Oldest Son

Oldest Son from a very early age wanted to know things.


I used to work very hard to stay ahead of what it was he might want to know.


After THGGM and I completed our wills, I thought it might be comforting for him to know what would happen to him if we were to both die.


(Normal people probably see a problem with this already, but rarely do I have the 'normal' response to anything.)


I knew that it was comforting to ME as a child to know that my parents intended to leave me with my aunt and uncle (whose lovely home is pictured at www.judyh58a.blogspot.com) if they were to both die. Unless, of course, my sisters were old enough to take me. This put me in a conundrum of wishing that if they were going to die anyway that I would at least get to live with someone who wasn't always complaining that I was breathing on them.


So, I calmly and matter-of-factly explained to Oldest Son that if daddy and I were both to die at the same time, he need not worry, as he would go to live with our dear friends Fred and Betty. They were also the parents of three of his favorite people, so I was sure it would all be good.


And, it was. Being the sort of child who liked to have things settled well in advance, he pondered it for a bit and seemed just fine with the arrangement.


A couple of days later, he asked me for Fred and Betty's phone number. He wanted me to write it down for him. Of course, I thought he wanted to call his friends to arrange to play.


Silly me. I asked "Why?".


In all seriousness, he responded. "I need to know their number in case you and daddy die, I will have to call them to come pick us up."


It put a picture in my mind of THGGM and I laying prone, stricken by who-knows-what, and Oldest Son gathering up his younger siblings, calling Betty to come get them, and calmly waiting while seated on suitcase on the front porch.


Somedays, a parent can disappoint a child just by living.

The Happy Couple

This is my dad and mom's engagement picture.

They have been married 58 years.

Wow. They didn't even know me then.

I've always known them.

Funny, how that works.

(i need to go to bed...)

Margaret and John

Another picture of my dad and his sister, Margaret.

This is the one taken shortly after their older brother died.

They had two baby brothers at the time, but obviously, they are not in the picture.

My dad, who only had daughters, used to tell us that he didn't mind that at all. He liked to say he had two annoying little brothers and a sister he adored.

I wish I had known my grandmother. My mother says of her mother-in-law that she was the sweetest woman she ever knew.

What must it have been like for her, to lose her oldest son? Her family lived in The Netherlands. She didn't speak English, yet. She still had four other children age five and under.

I've no reason to complain. Ever. About anything.