May proved to be a completely unproductive month for sailing and now June loomed on the horizon.   I was back home from a trip, but days for sailing were rapidly dwindling away what with a convention planned, a second Texas trip, vacation.  The weather continued to be uncooperative, too.  Tom watched the oil spill coverage diligently, as well as the weather, which was now showing an impending first hurricane.  His spirits were glum, to say the least.

But, then he got a break.  Two days on a June weekend in between other activities, hurricanes and bad weather magically appeared.  He was excited.  I started to say thrilled, but somehow I hadn’t seen that emotion in him in quite some time, maybe even a sailing season or so ago.

Tom lined up his helpers, hauled the boat to the harbor behind his big SUV, got his boat in the water, get the mast up, and all that done before the first “teeny, tiny” problem arose.  The little outboard motor that he had just filled with gasoline before leaving home wouldn’t start.  It was out of gas.  It had all leaked out somewhere along the way adding to the gunk in the water or on the land going down to the water already generated by the oil spill, unfortunately.

He had to have someone tow him in his boat around the piers to his boat slip.  (Which we now had been paying for month by month for nearly a year with no boat use.)

That was disgrace enough, but the problem appeared to be simple and easily repairable.  (Note the words “appeared to be” closely.)  A screw seemed to have fallen out, or been jolted out, of the motor, causing all of the gasoline to leak out.  He and his best friend, Ron, went nearby to Biloxi to a boat store, but they did not have said screw in stock, nor did they recognize it’s kind and shape.  But, not to worry.  Tom had the boat motor owner’s manual and quickly found the parts he needed.  He ordered two sets of two different screws, bolts, do-hickys . . . you know -  one cannot be too sure in such a spot and must take all precautions against not having all needed parts when time is of the essence.  And the order was only slightly more than $50 bucks (albeit only $5 boat dollars).

I just about had a heart attack upon seeing the bill when the order arrived.  Four lousy little pieces of metal and they cost MORE than $50 bucks?!

But, what’s a husband’s happiness to be compared to, you know?  Besides, he had greater problems to deal with.  The exhausting heat and humidity caused him to stay in the SUV with the A/C going full blast about half of each day of the weekend, and that added up considerably, as well as concerning me greatly about his health.  Then, he just did not have the strength alone to get the second boom up on the boat from which one of the sails is rigged.  So, he had to find more help for that a second day in a row.

The next weekend, motor parts in hand, he got another break in the weather and wandered back down to the harbor.  I never did get the whole picture on the next part of the deal, but either the screws weren’t needed at all (after the $50+ expense, plus whole extra set), or else when replaced didn’t stop the gasoline leak.  Plan B developed, in which the motor was to be unlocked from the metal cross beam to which the lock was attached, the motor lifted, taken out of the water, driven home and taken to a boat repair shop, one being conveniently located close to home.

Tom has four sets of keys to the boat, each set consisting of about 10 or 12 keys on four rings.  He had two sets with him at the boat, but none fit the lock on the motor that was locked to the cross beam on the back of the boat.  So, what did he do?

He called me up, of course, and said, “Dee . . . what did you do with my extra two sets of keys to my boat?”

A roar of dead silence ensued while he revised his question.

He didn’t even know where the sets of keys were, much less where THE key was to THE lock on THE boat, etc, etc.

He never did find THE key.  So, Plan B-2 developed in which he would borrow a friend’s specialty hacksaw to saw off the cross beam to get to the lock to get the motor off of the boat.  All he had to do was buy a new blade for said saw.

He did, and even got the motor off without too much trouble, just with more help.  Got the motor fixed, too.  After refurbishing the entire carburetor on the thing.  (Chi-ching, chi-ching – don’t ask – I’m incapable of repeating the cost, boat dollars or not.  And I haven’t even mentioned the newly painted, “much needed” “bottom job” on the boat that he had planned to do himself, naturally, in the spring, but which had to be done professionally after he went in the hospital for heart surgery.)

Meanwhile, we were in and out of town and sailing time was zipping on past, unrelenting.  So were the effects of the oil spill in the gulf.  Oil and tar balls were washing up everywhere.  The clock rolled around to the last day of June, the harbor closed, with booms blocking all entrances or egresses, and Tom realized that as soon as he got the motor back on the boat, he was going to have to take the boat out of the water, again, still unsailed for the season.

He clumped over to the harbor master’s office and gave up the slip.  He called his worthy friends who stood by him like real sailing men do and came to help him get the boat out of the water.  It was a dreadful day.  And it wasn’t even over.

The final next to final twist occurring that horrendous day was that he had a flat tire on his boat trailer on the way home at about the same time he realized his fancy cell phone was totally dead because he’d left it in his sailing shorts and it had gotten submerged in salt water while trying to get the boat on the trailer.  They were having trouble with it, you see.  (Yeah, tell me about it.)  He luckily was close to a gas station and borrowed a stranger lady’s phone to call me, not to let me know he was okay or what time he was coming on home, but to ask me to call Ron to come over and help him, if he could.  Ron could, and did.

Turns out the tire was not just flat, it was stripped.  So, now add a new trailer tire to the new doors (some with three, some with two coats of varnish), new bottom job, new lock, new keys, new cross beam, newly refurbished carburetor on the motor on the boat on the trailer that was doing all of its travel over land, not the over the windblown waves of the oily mess in the gulf of Mexico.

It still took a while for him to make it home.  Longer than I would have thought, even with the flat tire, and of course, I assumed the worst.  Which happened.  After he got the flat fixed and was on his way, a state trooper pulled him over to see his registration and insurance papers.  While I faithfully keep our current insurance papers in both vehicles, Tom could not, for the life of him, find the latest, up to date card in his vehicle.  I can only suppose that the officer saw how frazzled Tom was, because he let him go, telling him to find the card and make sure he kept it close.

The boat is now home sitting in the driveway in the way, rather than on the grass.  It doesn’t even have a tarp on it at the moment.  Tom keeps trying to think of someway to get that boat in some clear water where he can have fun sailing and relaxing, leaving the cares of the world behind.  He’s plottin’ and plannin’, but I see no hope, myself, nor do I see that he still has that will to keep torturing himself like this.

Yet . . . he thinks he’s come up with a solution – of sorts.  When I heard his plan, I came up with a solution of my own.  So, while this may be the conclusion to one chapter of his boat life, next time I’ll share with you the Epilogue.  At least for now.  Till next time.

Cheers! Dee

Can any of you identify?

So . . . I’ve . . . been . . . stressed.

But, at the same time I’ve been reminded this week by others (thanks, Heather, for reminding me that dial-up internet on a rickity laptop is better than none at all!), in some cases, to be mindful of the little things in life that make our lives better.  I need to be “shook up” sometimes to appreciate all I have.  Me – the one who just wrote about “The Girl in the Woods” last time (this past Monday, that now seems eons ago) to remind us all to look around and really observe what we see.

I want to share with you a couple of photos we have of some beautiful birds who live here in Mississippi.  They are Mississippi Swallow-tail Kites, and Tom saw one flying above him on the way home from work one afternoon.

Isn’t this the most beautiful, graceful bird?

Here’s another one soaring above in the heavens.  Would that I could be such a bird in flight!

My spirit and my soul DO fly high above into the heavens when I remember my God, my creator . . . and I am refreshed and replinished in heart and mind.

Thank you, Father, for such beautiful little things in life that are not so little after all when we set our hearts toward heaven and toward You.  Help us to always have hearts of gratitude for the good you give us in such abundance, even in the little things around us, if we will but look and truly let our eyes SEE.

Give us hearts of compassion to always cast our look and Your love upon all we meet and know.  Give us hearts of forgiveness toward all others as You have forgiven us.  Forgive us when we do wrong, or fail to do good in Your name.  Help us to DO good in Your name at every opportunity; to always have a smile on our face; to always look into others’ eyes straightforwardly to smile at their souls.

We ask all of these things, and thank You for all of these things through Jesus Christ, our Beloved Savior and Your Son, in His Name.  Amen

She was 19 years old and married to a small thin man in his late 30s or early 40s who looked to be twice his age and was crippled up in his left arm from a working accident some years before.  Thus, he was disabled and unable to work any more, at all, although the work he’d done before was just as a laborer.

She had four little girls of her own, although she was just a girl herself.

They were destitute.  They lived in a small shack consisting of three room, with no bathroom, far off the nearest paved road among the tall, matchstick pines.  Being summer, it was swelteringly hot and humid, but they had no air conditioning, of course.  Nor did they have much furniture.  In fact, other than in the kitchen, I recall none.  The three little girls and baby all slept on bare mattresses reeking with the strong odor of urine.  They may have had diapers for the youngest, but the nearest place to do laundry was in town, and that cost money they didn’t have.  Neither did we see any clothes, anywhere.

Their only transportation was an old dilapidated pickup, and it was not there when we arrived.  The doors were wide open, so we went up the flimsy back steps to the kitchen and went in to look around.  We saw a small table with bowls on them, a couple of chairs and some cheap bent spoons.  The small refrigerator’s door did not shut well and it was full of big ants, but very little else.  Ants crawled all across the tiny kitchen, including on the counter, where we found the remains of their pitiful lunch.  Water gravy and water Koolaid, with a bit of sugar in it.  There were no signs of anything else to eat.

We had wanted to see them to visit, but instead we just left the big boxes of food, produce, milk and staples, for them to have when they got home.  We left some small clean clothes, too, for the girls, and took note of what else they needed.  It was a long list, because they needed everything, beginning with a habitable place to live.

We were not only saddened, but sickened at what we saw.  The wretchedness of the place; the poverty.  But, for the moment we had done all we knew to do.

We found out later that the reason they were not “home” was because all of them had driven to nearby Lufkin to the welfare department to try to receive a bit more financial help then what he was getting.  The girl told us that what we saw in their shack was the very last of the food that they had.  The water gravy and Koolaid.  They had nothing else.

When they returned home, completely dejected and hungry, they were overjoyed to find the food we brought.

My friend, a young Christian mother of four, herself, in her 30s, and I – just a married college student, myself, with a little one, David, who was two years old, had driven back into town by then.  I pondered what I had seen and experiences.  I deeply identified with this young girl, as I was expecting a baby soon, and would have two little ones at 21.

We lived in student housing in a small two bedroom apartment that was $67 a month, which we could not afford, either, but we managed the the four married couples’ buildings around our square and that paid our rent.  My husband went to school full time and worked all kinds of odd jobs at night to help with bills, too.  One job, sitting in a chicken house where the incubators were all night long to keep the eggs from burning, paid 33 cents an hour.  It was a miserable job, but we needed the money.

Yet, when I compared my life to hers, and she was a brand new Christian, I felt deeply blessed.

We did not leave them as we found them.  Charlotte, my friend, went back repeatedly to help them and even got the girl a decent paying job in town soon after.  Charlotte made sure she was able to come worship with us and bring her little daughters.  The girl dressed them up as best she could with the hand-me-downs and they looked shiny and sweet.

They are able to move into town and the church helped them greatly.  Their lives improved very much due to the love and care and benevolence of the compassionate Christian community there in Nacogoches.  It was inspiring to me to see true Christianity in action – Jesus love – and the impressions of that girl’s life have stayed with me until now.

This did not happen during the deep Depression of the 1930s.  This happened in 1966, and happens still today in many places all around us here in America, if only we will take the time to really open our eyes and see as Jesus would have us see.

My daughter, who lives in an a far suburb of Dallas told me a few years ago that she did not know any poor people.  (Although she lives out in the country and has trailer homes on both sides of their property.)  I was stunned.  I told her she would find them all around her, even there, if she would just look.  She took my advice, and did.  Since then, she has been involved in ministry with her congregation of Christians and on several mission trips outside this country, even.  We financially supported her in doing those things and have supported her morally and in every way we could to encourage her in her work.

Tom and I live in a very poor area of the south here in Mississippi where people such as the girl in the woods live, as well.  May I ever seek out those I can help in some way – as God’s child – a Christian – and not forget they are all around me too.  To get to our house in the woods, we drive by dozens and dozens of run down trailers and trailer parks that look like junk yards.  They are here.

I hope you will be encouraged today to look more closely around where you live to find someone you can help – in Christ’s name – to show them the love of God and Christ even in their lives!

Many blessings to each of you today.  Dee

Every January I take stock of my life a little differently than most people do, who make resolutions.  I pick out a word for the year by which I want to define my life.

This year’s word is “Calmness” and/or “Serenity.”  As in the Serenity Prayer (see below).  Most of us know the first few lines as AA’s motto, but I doubt that many of you know (1) that Reinhold Neibuhr wrote it, or (2) that there are more lines to the prayer.  Very significant lines, I think.

We all have times of turbulence and turmoil in our lives, and my life is no different.  The past six months of my life have been especially stressful and demanding.  There have been moments when I have had no clue as to what to say or do next and have completely let myself fall apart, I’m afraid.

I’ve determined in my heart to try to remain much more calm and serene this year in the face of all struggles, anger of others, and strife.  I seek wisdom from our Father in all things and pray that He does grant me serenity.  I want to speak in a softer voice, using self-control and patience to bring assurance to all with whom I speak.

Please pray with me that God will help me in these things.  Maybe you can (will, I hope) give me some suggestions about how to carry out this “purpose” in my life.  (Like just talking with y’all, right?!  All of you calm, totally “together” friends, who would never dream of saying anything distressing to me – right?!)

As for you – what word would you most like to have as your guiding force for this year?  And why?  Please share with me today so that I will not feel alone in being the only one who needs to work on such things in my life.

I leave you with the Serenity Prayer, in full:

The Serenity Prayer
	God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference. Living one day at a time; Enjoying one moment at a time; Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace; Taking, as He did, this sinful world as it is, not as I would have it; Trusting that He will make all things right if I surrender to His Will; That I may be reasonably happy in this life and supremely happy with Him Forever in the next. Amen. –Reinhold Niebuhr In loving memory of Fr Bertram Griffin — 1932-2000 Requiescat in Pace
Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will direct your paths. Proverbs 3, 5-6

These shortening days gliding slowly into fall when the shadows lengthen no longer bring so much deep sorrow and grief to Tom and me as we think of his beautiful daughter Kim and my loving dad, but as the years have gone by bring more lovely reflections and remembrances.

I’ve written here each September since I began blogging about both  Kim and my dad.  The dates of their deaths are within 3 days of each other – the 14th and the 17th – although now my dad’s been gone 13 years (today) and Kim, seven, on Monday.  So it is that the memories are intertwined.

I will not recount their deaths again here, but ask you to take a bit of time to share their lives with us by reading the posts w/photos I’ve written before that tell you and show you who they were and how brightly their spirits shone in our lives.

[See posts w/photos here (2005), here (2006 - this is more a meditation on life and death, w/links to some other posts about my dad here - my 2nd place writers' contest winner - and here - my 1st place writers' contest winner last summer ) and here (2008).  I also refer you to two more meditations after I'd been in the Durango, Colorado ICU for four days while on vacation here and here.]

I realize that’s a lot of reading and some of you have read them before, but, if you will be so kind, please look at the photos and read through the ones you’ve forgotten or have never read.  I hope they will calm you and give you peace, as they give me as I read them.

This year – I leave you with two remembrances that bring us joy.  First, here is our latest photo of Hayley, now 11 1/2, who is the best and dearest of what Kim left behind as she grows and matures and begins to look uncannily like her mother.

The second comes from one of the three dresser drawers in my mom’s bedroom Mom’s left  filled with my dad’s things – just as they were 13 years ago.  Mom and I spent an entire morning looking through the drawers when I was there and laughed and laughed, remembering his quirky ways.

He was an engineer with an engineer’s precise mind and view of the world.  Everything he ever touched, I think, he labeled.  He also, apparently, unbeknownst to me until that morning,  never threw away a single key he ever owned in the 73 years of his life.

I wanted to – and will one day when I have the time – take them all out of the two drawers they fill and count them.  I’m sure his collection must be near 300.  From very teeny, tiny keys to old computer locking keys to every key to every car he ever owned to . . . on and on.  Most were on rings and many of the rings had labels attached to them in his meticulous engineer’s handwriting.

There was another similar to this one, but this one was the best and one day Tom and I plan on having a shadow box or key hanger filled with them here in our home.  See what you think.  Isn’t this about the funniest thing you’ve ever seen?  I’m telling ya!

May God grant us each grace and peace and many joyous memories as we think of those we love who have gone on before us.

In Jesus Name,  Dee

Thus, the photos/stories will have to wait and thus I am quite aggravated!

So . . . here are some words of wisdom by various authors (some anonymous and/or unknown), instead, to keep us focused on the lighter side of life.  I thank God for my sense of humor as much as any other gift He has given me – don’t you?!  Humor serves to relieve tension, ease disagreements and give us better health.

Enjoy!

WORDS OF WISDOM

1) “When I die, I want to die like my grandfather-who died peacefully in his sleep. Not screaming like all the passengers in his car.”
–Author Unknown

2) Advice for the day: If you have a lot of tension and you get a headache, do what it says on the aspirin bottle:  “Take two aspirin” and “Keep away from children.”
–Author Unknown

3) “Oh, you hate your job? Why didn’t you say so? There’s a support group for that. It’s called EVERYBODY, and they meet at the bar.”
–Drew Carey

4) “The problem with the designated driver program, it’s not a desirable job, but if you ever get sucked into doing it, have fun with it. At the end of the night, drop them off at the wrong house.”
–Jeff Foxworthy

5) “If a woman has to choose between catching a fly ball and saving an infant’s life, she will choose to save the infant’s life without even considering if there is a man on base.”
–Dave Barry

6) “Relationships are hard. It’s like a full time job, and we should treat it like one. If your boyfriend or girlfriend wants to leave you, they should give you two weeks’ notice.  There should be severance pay, the day before they leave you, they should have to find you a temp.”
–Bob Ettinger

7) “My Mom said she learned how to swim when someone took her out in the lake and threw her off the boat. I said, ‘Mom, they weren’t trying to teach you how to swim.’”
–Paula Poundstone
“A study in the Washington Post says that women have better verbal skills than men. I just want to say to the authors of that study, ‘Duh.’”
–Conan O’Brien

9) “Why does Sea World have a seafood restaurant?? I’m halfway through my fish burger and I realize, Oh my God…. I could be eating a slow learner.”
–Lynda Montgomery

10) “I think that’s how Chicago got started. Bunch of people in New York said, ‘Gee, I’m enjoying the crime and the poverty, but it just isn’t cold enough. Let’s go west.’”
–Richard Jeni

11) “If life were fair, Elvis would be alive and all the impersonators would be dead.”
–Johnny Carson

12) “Sometimes I think war is God’s way of teaching us geography.”
–Paul Rodriguez

13) “My parents didn’t want to move to Florida, but they turned sixty and that’s the law.”
–Jerry Seinfeld

14) “Remember in elementary school, you were told that in case of fire you have to line up quietly in a single file line from smallest to tallest. What is the logic in that? What, do tall people burn slower?”
–Warren Hutcherson

15) “Bigamy is having one wife/husband too many. Monogamy is the same.”
–Oscar Wilde

16) “Suppose you were an idiot … And suppose you were a member of Congress… But I repeat myself.”
–Mark Twain

17) “Our bombs are smarter than the average high school student. At least they can find Afghanistan.”
–A. Whitney Brown

18) “You can say any foolish thing to a dog, and the dog will give you a look that says, ‘My God, you’re right!  I never would’ve thought of that!’”
–Dave Barry

19) Do you know why they call it “PMS”? Because “Mad Cow Disease” was taken.
–Unknown, presumed deceased

If you don’t have a sense of humor, you probably don’t have any sense
at all.

There are three kinds of men: The ones who learn by reading and the few who learn by observation. The rest of them have to pee on the electric fence and find out for themselves.
—Will Rogers

Cheers & many blessings to each of you today!  If I can get the needed “training” in Adobe Photoshop, I’ll be back next time with some neat pictures and stories.  Dee

For those of you just joining us, I’ve spent the past couple of posts sharing the story of Tom’s purchase of a small sailboat a year and a half ago and the ensuing expenses of maintaining and upgrading said boat, sometimes to my total dismay at the cost of such.  (See here & here for the details – you don’t want to miss them, believe me.)

I mean, I’m a fairly intelligent woman (and I don’t want to hear any guffaws from you guys about the “woman” part of that phrase) – an attorney, even – but sometimes Tom’s thinking totally defied logic.  (Such as the “men don’t measure” comment and how he could not (apparently) be one bit concerned with costs of such a hobby (sport, relaxation therapy – whatever men call their “toys).

But I finally gained deep insight into his thinking as we were coming into Lowe’s (to buy my new, “extravagant” purchase for myself (yeah, right) of a durable trash can!?!) when he explained the following to me.  It went like this:

Tom says, “You see, Dee . . . I haven’t really spent that much money at all on this marine plywood and the other boat things I’ve gotten.”

Me:  “How do you figure that, pray tell?”

“Because they were ‘Boat Dollars’,” he (patiently & gently) explained (to me, a mere woman).   “Ron (Tom’s best friend) explained to me when he got his boat that one boat dollar is equivalent to 10 dollars, so in “Boat Dollars,” I’ve only spent about $15 dollars, not $150.”

“Now do you understand?!” he said.  “And aren’t you proud of me for being so frugal with my boat dollars?”

Sigh.

I’m sure there are guitar, gun and drum set dollar exchanges, as well, for husbands like Patrick and Greg.  The best I can figure, it’s sort of like exchanging U. S. Dollars for foreign currency.  Except that this currency is all in husbands’ minds for whatever their fancy happens to be.

To be fair, I have to say I know some women who have the same sort of currency system when it comes to clothes, shoes, decorating, arts & crafts, etc.  It’s not all one sided.

Me?  I’m not sure I have such a system in place.  I think I have in the past to some degree with books, music (another big currency system of some husbands, btw) and the like.  But in the more recent past and present, I’m working much harder at (1) keeping Tom from going into debt with his “boat dollars” (ha!) and (2) storing up my currency in heavenly places for my life to come.

We all have currency exchanges, I think, each in our own different way.  Thank God He gives us pleasurable activities on this earth to engage ourselves in, but may we always also keep in mind where we want our lasting treasures to be.

Cheers!  And many blessings to each of you today!!  Dee

Saturday, April 4th – Mom’s Present View

I last left The Great Road Trip of 2009 saga with Tom taking Mom, Laura and me shopping in Slidell that Saturday afternoon at the mall.  Penney’s, to be exact, to buy knit shirts.  (See that post here – I know it’s been a while.  Sorry.)

Mom insisted on buying us all the shirts we wanted on sale and she got a couple, as well.  When Laura & I protested, she said this was something she wanted to do, and was going to do it!  She began sharing her view of life
at 87.  She had things to say and wanted us to listen carefully, paying full attention, Penney’s or not.

I’d begun to get an inkling of her current thinking before our trip had begun, but had not realized its depths.  We’d been talking about it since the prior December, but it wasn’t until late Feb. 2009 when I finalized my plans to fly out to Abilene on March 31 and mailed Mom a copy of my itinerary that I got a major clue as to her thinking.

She sent me a birthday card for my March 2 birthday with a check enclosed.  She usually sends each of us a $20 bill for our birthdays, but this check was for $60 + the cost of the plane ticket.  I was surprised and called her to thank her, asking if my worth as a person had risen in value since turning 60.

She laughed and told me that she not only was paying for my plane ticket, but also intended to pay for our entire trip.  The three of us (Mom, Laura & I) had not discussed it at all, but I think Laura’s thinking was the same as mine – we were doing this for our mom and would share the costs on the road equally – in thirds.

I didn’t get a chance to talk with Laura about it until I got out to Abilene and she began worrying about having cash to bring with her on the trip for expenses.  I told her what Mom had said and that I, too, would help her with cash if she needed it, not to worry about it.

Sure ’nuff, Mom bought the gas, whatever food we ate (which wasn’t a lot on the trip, if you remember) and paid for our night at the DiamondJack Hotel.  Since we’d been back home to Picayune, she kept telling me that she would help pay for our groceries while she & Laura (and then Laura’s husband) were there, but had not as yet done so.

Now, here we were shopping at the mall and Mom wanted to share with us her heart.  [Note:  I must say here that our mom is by no means a wealthy woman, as the world perceives wealth.  Children of the depression, she and Dad never had a lot of money, but they always saved.  She has a degree in Business Administration and always kept the "books." I never knew how she managed so well, us living on a farm and there being four of us kids, but she did.]

She began telling us that at this point in her life (she is 87!), she has
more money than she’ll ever be able to spend.  She says that money is
the least of her worries, unlike all the rest of us.  She began to relate how many Christian friends she’d had, still has, who were so tight with their money, that they would not let go of any of it for anything – even their children.  Most of all, their children, she said.

She said they would (will) wait until after they are long dead before their kids see a penny of it, and by then the kids (likened unto us) could possibly all be in their late 60s or even 70s before the remaining parents are gone.  Mom thinks that is stupid and selfish!  She says she realizes that whatever she gives us now, that means we’ll have less after she’s gone (since she’s leaving all she has to we three kids, anyway), but she knows there are things in our lives that are importance for us to do now, while we are still young enough and healthy enough) and she wants us to be able to do them.

Most important, she said, she wants to be around to enjoy the pleasure of sharing her money with us so that we can all do things together – like this very trip we were on.  And we were having a blast!!

Besides, she said with a twinkle in her eye and getting back to our shopping "spree," we’d better take full advantage of all we could get while she was in such a generous mood spending her kids’ inheritance!

For all we got, "her" bill was only about $100, which was amazing.

We stopped at Sam’s Club to pick up some thick steaks for Tom to grill later and started home.  It was now about 5:30 p.m. and Mom was tired, she said.  Me, too.  My shoulder blade had begun to hurt, but I didn’t say anything to anyone.  We were all having too much fun.

By the time we got home and laid out all of our "cute" shirts to gaze upon, we decided we were still full from the late sandwich lunch and told Tom we’d rather save the steaks for the next evening.  He agreed, but told us we’d better not fill up on sandwiches tomorrow because he wanted to grill us those steaks.

We had gotten Mom & Laura some neat night lights/flash lights while in Sam’s and Mom insisted she wanted to pay us back for hers.  She would not let us gift her with anything.  But, she’d not said a word about the $200 I’d spent on groceries that morning or the steaks, which I thought was a bit odd since she’d said she wanted to cover everything.  But, I wasn’t going to say anything because she was our guest and my mom, for goodness sakes, and we wanted to do things for her.  

She went off to her bedroom to piddle around and bring me what I thought was going to be a $20 check.  She was gone a while, but finally emerged and handed me a check, she said, to cover all our expenses, but with something extra for a special purpose, if we so desired.  I looked at the amount on the check and I was floored.  Tears welled up in my eyes so that I couldn’t see as I exclaimed, "MOM!?!

It was for at least five times more than all of our expenses for the trip and week.  It was a very generous check with a comma in it.  She said, "I want you to go on to see David (my older son in Virginia) in May, like you’d planned before your fiancial situation hit a down turn.  It’s important that you go on and go and see him and his family because it’s been two years and you need to go."

I showed Tom the check and he was stunned, too.  She told us that she had been planning this for a good while before the trip.  She had told Laura before hand what she was going to go and was giving Laura and my brother Neil each checks of the same amount – for all of us to do whatever we wanted to do with the extra gifted money.

She shared with us, again, and with Tom, how she felt about it and why she was doing it, but we were still overwhelmed at her generosity, not only of money, but mostly of heart and spirit.

I hope I can better emulate my mom with my kids, you know?  We do not have a lot, but we try to share what we can when we can.  In the end, that is all any of us can do.  May we all try to be as generous in heart and love as my mom!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As you know, things did not work out for Tom & me to go to Virginia in May to see David and family because of my pinched nerve, but something even better has come up in God’s timing that will take place in just two weeks and I cannot wait to share it with you.  But, this has gone on too long already, so it will have to wait for next time, when I also get back to the next episode in The Great Road Trip of 2009.

In the meantime, Many Blessings to you each today!  Dee

To Be Continued . . .

Saturday was our second full day at home together and another day full of fun, too, thanks as always to Mom.  It was a busy one, but not too.  We tried our best to rest and relax in between "fun stuff," but then, it was all fun!  Although looking back, I think this was about the time the pain first started in my left shoulder blade. 

I was pretty hyper, still, from the trip and did too much, with trying to make sure everyone was having a great time and that all went smoothly.  I knew it at the time, but did not realize the toll it was taking or what the consequences would be.

My blood sugars were crashing on a regular basis, sometimes as many as four or five times a day.  I must have drunk nearly a case of Cokes during that two week period.  I could not keep my blood sugars up.  It’s a wonder I didn’t gain about 10 lbs., but I didn’t.

The first thing on the agenda for the day, which didn’t start too early for any of us, was coffee, of course, with a light breakfast, and then grocery shopping.  I had not been to the grocery store in over a week and needed fresh produce and some things for cooking while company was here.

So, Laura and I headed off to town to Walmart.  That’s always a challenge and especially in Picayune on Saturdays when I think the entire county’s population comes to town to shop there.  This day, it was particularly difficult to not only park, but shop, because the entire store was under major renovations with everything in the store out of place and no new signs up to point you in the right direction.  None of the employees had a clue, either, to where anything was, so it took us forever to get groceries (and a lot of money, since I was buying a lot more than usual).

By the time we got home, put everything away and had sandwiches, it was nearly 2 p.m. and we had yet to start to Slidell to the mall for some more shopping.  The plan was for us to go to Penney’s to get some cute shirts on sale -  cheap – and then go by Sam’s to get some steaks for Tom to grill for dinner. 

What we had not planned, was for Mom to pay for our shirts (we girls, that is – poor Tom was just our driver everywhere!).  But, she insisted on buying us all the shirts we wanted when we got there (and they were cute and on sale for only about $5 bucks apiece!! – Mom even got a couple).  She laughingly told us we’d better stock up while she was in such a generous mood spending all of her kids’ inheritances.

While Laura & I protested, she began sharing her philosophy of life at 87 and began telling us . . .

[Note:  Y'all - I'm tired today, and especially this afternoon, so think I'll stop right here.  Be sure and come back, though, because I think you will take away much wisdom from this lovely, delightful mom of ours.  Here's a couple of pictures for today of Mom, Tom & Laura eating key lime pie on the back porch that beautiful April 4th afternoon.  Isn't our back porch just the neatest place ever?]

To Be Continued . . .

 April 1st – Late Wednesday Night in DiamondJack Casino Hotel

If you remember (it’s been a while), I left you last time (here) with us – okay, Mom - beating the system by walking out of the casino with her $8.75 of their money late on the first day of our road trip.  

We slowly (Mom’s bum knee) walked back over to the hotel side to go to our room and to bed because it was about 10:30 p.m. and had been a long day.

 As we entered the hotel lobby, I saw Steven (Hotel, remember!) still behind the counter and also saw a tall young black man crossing the lobby from somewhere wearing loose clothing, sort of work out type, and carrying a very large shopping bag.  We crossed the lobby where I was going to talk with Steven and take his picture, because he had been so helpful to us when we’d arrived, but he was busy on the phone.

So, we went through a short hallway to the six elevators.  The three of us entered, Mom & Laura talking away, and I stopped in front of the panel to punch in our floor.  As I did so, the young man I had seen in the lobby strode in and stood behind us.  For some reason, I felt very wary.

As I punched in our floor, I saw that we had to put our room card into the panel to be able to get the elevator to work.  I had the card (being the "commander" of this endeavor), so started to look in my purse to pull the card out, while at the same time asking the young black man what floor he wanted.

He was mumbling something about his girlfriend having the only card to their room (in other words, he didn’t have one).  At the same time I was asking him what floor he wanted and he couldn’t tell me.

I immediately told Mom & Laura, "Come on, we’ve got to go talk to Steven.  I wanted to get his picture, remember?  Come on.  Come on."  (It was the only thing I could think of to get them out.)

They hesitated, looking confused, but I kept pressing them and said, let’s go.  I wanted all of us out of that elevator as fast as possible.  I herded them along till we got around the corner of the hallway into the lobby and told them I was highly suspicious of that guy & why.  Mom had not even noticed him at all & Laura had only noticed the big shopping bag.  She didn’t even see that he was black.

We went over to the counter & told Steven and I insisted he call security, which he did.  We then safely entered the elevator and went to our room, me cautioning both Mom & Laura the whole time that they must be more aware of their surroundings and what’s going on.  The guy had no card and could not tell me his floor number.  ‘Nuff said.

Here’s some pictures of our great room taken before we went to bed.  The first is Mom sitting on her bed (Laura & I took the other bed, Laura closet to Mom & me on the far side by the short "wall") counting her loot & putting it away!

The second is of Laura.  Our room was very tropical looking, with lots of mirrors, which made it seem much bigger than it was.

Finally – here is the huge whirlpool jacuzzi tub that Laura so wanted to lie back in to relax for a while before going to bed and watch the little 13" TV just across the way (see it in the mirror next to the coffee pot).  But it was so late, she didn’t get to do so.  Bummer.

It had been an eventful day and Mom was sound asleep by the time her head hit the pillow.  Laura and I took longer, but were in bed with the lights out (except in the bathroom) by 11 p.m.

I was very tired out from driving all day and expected I’d drift off to sleep.  We had another long day on the road ahead of us from Shreveport to Picayune and I badly needed the rest.

It was dark & quiet except for Mom’s soft snoring and all was still – except my mind.  It was cranked up in high gear.  I lay there as still as possible trying to think calming thoughts.  Instead, every 15 or 20 minutes or so I was checking the time on my wonderful new "indiglo" watch.

The day ended with me wide awake.  As a new day began, I prayed for sleep, to no avail.  

Then, some 45 minutes into the new "day," – 12:45 a.m. Thursday morning – me still in bed wide awake, the peace was shattered by a loud knocking on the door.

What on earth, I thought.

To Be Continued . . .