Joy in the Simple Things...and my Birthday

Well, I'm a year older today.

Hopefully I'm also a bit wiser, too! I mean, what's the sense in the passage of time if I didn't learn and grow along the way?

I miss my Momma something fierce. Something about the combination of my birthday and Christmas...makes this time of year not as fun as it once was. I've shed more than a few tears.

I'm learning that there is joy in the simple things of the season. The excitement of our boys, planning Christmas surprises with the Hubs, singing with my Dad, a phone call to out-of-state relatives and sweet messages in cards.

Those simple things have brought me the most joy when enjoying the season seemed impossible.

The perfect gift, no fancy wrapping required!

Not just another Monday...

September 20th.

Not just another day for our family.

Today would have been my Momma's birthday.

So, if your mom is still living....

Give her a hug,

tell her how much she means to you,

or even send her a card.

Something.

'Cause I may not have been able to say good-bye to my Momma,

but I did get to tell her I loved her and that she was a blessing to me.

That, m'dears, is a precious, precious thing.

Pointing out the clouds...

I've found myself pointing out the clouds to the Bubs a lot lately. From the white, puffy cottonball kind to the dark and rain-filled...they've all been pointed out and discussed.

My mom used to, at random moments, point out the clouds to us. She'd ooh and ahh over the purple and orange stained ones in a stunning sunset or laugh at the kind that were so big and fluffy we couldn't help but look for silly shapes in them.

I remember thinking, on more than one occasion, "Momma, you're so silly."

Honey, I now know that Momma was anything but silly. Whenever she pointed out those cloud-strewn skies, we'd all lift our heads from our indiviual pursuits (some worries, too) and take in something wonderous together. Precious moments, those.

That's why I point out the clouds...even if the Bubs thinks I'm a little silly.

Bittersweet Mother's Day

Have you ever tried to put off thinking about something only to have it push its way to the center of your mind at every oppurtunity?

Yeah. I thought so.

This past week made it a year since Mom passed away. This has been especially difficult since it falls right around Mother's Day. I haven't really looked forward to the holiday like I did in the past...

-Insert big, heartfelt sigh here.-

I tried to keep busy this week. To keep my mind filled with the both the mundane tasks and important neccessities of being a mommy, a wife, daughter and artist. This tactic held fast for a while...and then it all went kaplooey.

I was overcome. Flashes of what she looked like in the hospital as she struggled to breathe that last night....memories of her laugh and the sound of her voice (how I miss that!).....

I was in so much pain that I couldn't blog about it, but I was so overwhelmed with it that I simply blanked out when I'd try to come up with something.

I miss her. She was a wonderful Mom...and my very best friend.

Happy Mother's Day, Momma!

P.S. Happy Mother's Day, Y'all!

Singing at a funeral....not as easy as I thought.

The trio that I sing with was asked to sing a selection for a funeral that was held yesterday. I didn't think much of it, other than I was honored that we were asked and thoughts of sympathy at the family's loss.

The difficulty that I would be facing in singing for such a service didn't fully dawn on me until the family processed down the aisle to the distinctive sounds of a bagpipe belting out Amazing Grace. With one glimpse at their faces as they took in the sight of the casket at the altar and the way some of them held on to one another, my mind flashed back to Mom's funeral services.

Yikes.

The service was lovely and the recounting of her life touching and even, at times, funny. Then it was time for us to sing.....and I had the solo part.

With one final prayer the song began.....

I just couldn't look at the family. What can I say? Memories of one of the hardest days of my life and being a sympathy cryer will do that.

How in the world did I ever think that singing at such a service would be nothing to worry about? Silly, silly me.

The Villian is being played by....Who?

When I was a little girl, I would imagine myself as a character in fantastically wonderful and, often, hilarious stories of my own making. Sometimes I would play the whimsical princess who ruled her land with grace and compassion (yes, there was a prince and he was the typical boring, too-pretty type...but I was 8, so I didn't know any better!). Other times I would dream that I was a world traveler who saw and did amazing and life-altering things, with a camera in hand and sturdy boots on my feet.

No matter what those imaginings created, I was never the villain, never made to feel small and inconsequential.

I have learned, in my few years of motherhood, that I can often be perceived as "the bad guy" if only for enforcing a rule that the child had been REPEATEDLY warned about. That rarely bothers me anymore as I know that I (and the Hubs) have to do this in order to raise happy, healthy, moral and productive children.

There are other times, however, when the label is slapped across my chest and it is unwarranted and completely unexpected.

I have, just this morning, been slapped with that unlovely (and unloving) title. By a family member, no less.

Words, which I've never expressed verbally or otherwise, were unceremoniously shoved in my mouth. Accusations were flung about with the same relish as a small child left with unattended Kleenexes. Blame was laid at my door, complete with shiny gift wrap and a garish bow.

I'm not sure how it happened, as I'm one of the supportive characters -or thought I was- but happen it did. Now, I'm dealing with the fall out....and I want my Momma.

Is it possible to wrap gifts while asleep?

Oy, I feel like a juggler on speed! With the completion of the kitchen, things have kicked into high gear in the Everyday Occasions crib. We've just about finished decorating for Christmas and for the Bubs's birthday/Holiday lunch this Sunday. Now, if I could magically get someone to tackle the bathroom so I don't have to.....

I figure if I'm cooking someone else can clean the john. I'd surely "apreeshyate" it!

Anyway, I hope y'all are keeping safe as you take care of your Yuletide errands. People are drivin' like maniacs! I have the urge to roll down my window and loudly inform them that Wally World ain't goin' anywhere!

I must confess that this year the Christmas cheer that I normally have has been difficult to drum up. It's the first Christmas without Mom and she always made things so special....I'm feeling some pressure to make that happen for my family now. The Hubs would tell me that I'm bringing that pressure on myself. He's prob'ly right, the stinker. In any case, I accept that this Christmas will be difficult for all of us but there are still moments of joy to be had and have them, we will.

I'm taking the plunge....

I've decided to take a leap of faith and share some of my art experiments with you. Art, as with many things is a journey and I feel that part of that journey (for me) should include being brave enough to share my pieces.

So, I'm sharing with y'all. Be kind and remember I'm still learning....

All of these pieces were made on old hard back book covers, an idea I gleaned from Kelly Rae Roberts (thank you, ma'am). I used a white gel pen for the curlies around the edges and the bird is drawn on a piece of notecard paper that was sandpapered and then adhered with acrylic medium.

One of my first experiments and one of my more personal. I cut out the phrase, "I want to share my heart and see joy bloom" from an old book.

The woman's skirt is a collage of papers that I painted and aged. Phrases like, "blessed journey", "beautiful courage", "passionate spirit" and "warm laugh" surround the word Mom on the woman's skirts....that's how I remember my Mom and I wanted to include her in my art.

This one says, "Even with imperfect wings~ We Fly." The Hubs likes this one.
That glare you see is from the pearlizing mist that I sprayed on it. I like the glow it gives off.




I believe that this one is one of Dad's favorites as he loves butterflies! (That strip of blue at the top of the picture is part of another painting that this one was leaning against...Oops!)

Odd moments

It sneaks up on me, that crafty and relentless thing called grief.



Yes, it comes out to prey on me in those obvious moments when Mom is at the forefront of my mind - when I want to tell her about the boys, when we drive by the cemetery, when I have flashbacks to what it was like for her that last time in the hospital....



Yet it is all too ready to take advantage of those odd moments when I'm unprepared and defenseless against the fresh onslaught of horror that overwhelms me when I remember that Mom is gone. It delights in reminding me that even though I know without a doubt she's in a place of no pain, I would gladly take one more chance to tell her that I love her.



Odd moments.



I can't hold back the hands of time...or even reverse them. I wouldn't if I could. However, the selfish and fallible side of me very much wishes that I could hold back those odd moments when I'm so vulnerable against that thing called grief.

"Second verse same as the first, a little bit louder, a little bit worse."

Wow, this is the first time I've had a chance to blog all week!

Weeeeeelllll, now that I think about it I've had at least a couple other opportunities but everytime I sat down to jot a blurt, I couldn't stop thinking about how much I miss Momma. Then I thought, no one wants to keep reading about my grief. These people are struggling with things in their own lives and probably want to read about something funny or uplifting.

I would sit for a minute or two and try to conjure up something only to give up and move to some other task that needed my attention. When you have a baby, making the most of every free second is paramount, after all.

Yet, grieving is where I am right now in my journey. I can't change it. I wouldn't, even if I could because that would mean Momma would still be in pain. I've been irrevocably altered by a great loss and writing about it, while it may not take the hurt away (I depend on God to help me with that biggie), might make it a little easier to cope so I'm in a functional, forward-moving frame of mind for my family. I've never experienced grief on this level before. One minute I'm mercifully distracted by the mundane neccessities of day-to-day living, the next minute I'm having flashbacks of what Momma looked like that last time in the hospital as she struggled with being intubated because her lungs were so full of blood. It's the most horrifyingly brutal emotional rollercoaster I could imagine...and, for the moment, I'm on it.

So if you begin to hear the phrase that makes up this post's title run through your mind when you read some of my future posts....forgive me, y'all. It's just where I am in my life right now. There may be general guidelines for the stages of grieving, but I've come to realize that it's a very personal thing to go through and that everyone works through it in their own time and in their own way and there's no handbook that tells how to get through it in 3 easy steps.

Thank you for your understanding and for the kind condolences and comments y'all have sent our way. They've meant a lot to me.

Perfect Pic

My cousin, who blogs over at Boondock Ramblings, has quite a way with a camera. I consider it to not just be a talent, but a true gift. Most of my favorite pictures of family members have been taken by her. She emailed this pic of my Momma and the Bubs to both my dad and me yesterday. We cried. That photo perfectly captures how I remember her and want others to remember her.

Dad had it in a frame and it stayed on top of the casket (which was closed per Momma's request) tonight. It was a bright spot of joy in the middle of a very difficult evening. You cannnot help but look at that picture and smile. I know it was a comfort to Dad, who repeatedly touched it and shared in people's delight over it...in between the tears.

To my cousin, L~
I know you are in pain because you couldn't come down to Momma's funeral. We understand why you could not be here. Truly, we do. Please don't beat yourself up about it, shug. Know that we love you and that Momma loved you. She always thought you were very talented, creative, smart....and, well, the list goes on! As for this picture of Momma and the Bubs, I will never be able to fully express how much it meant to Dad, Aaron and I to have it there this evening. It was, if I can say this about a viewing, the highlight of the evening for many who were there. Thank you for being thoughtful enough to do that for us. The Bubs will definitely be getting a copy, as you requested and I know he'll love it.

I love you, L.

Momma

My momma died late yesterday evening after a long battle with not just one, but two kinds of cancer and all the complications that went along with them. My precious, sassy, wise and fiercely loving momma has gone to dance in Heaven. No more pain, no more tears, no more being trapped in a body that's betrayed her, no more loss of dignity, no more hospital visits or endless trips to doctors' offices. Just peace.

The Hubby and I had to tell the Bubs this morning. He cried. We're not sure how much he understood, but we told him that any and all questions are okay. He's already asked us, "Who's gonna be my Ammah now?"

Just when I think my heart couldn't break anymore...

I'm sure we'll be explaining things repeatedly for a while, yet. Whatever he needs. We decided to keep him out of school for today to give him a bit of time to adjust without so much outside attention...however well intentioned.

I know it's not logical, but I don't understand why the rest of the world is continuing to function when ours has screeched to a halt. Kind of childish of me, isn't it?

Well, it's time for me to go as there are a million decisions to be made and, for now, I need those decisions to keep me moving. Does that make sense?

Momma's Birthday

It's my Momma's birthday......er, well it was this weekend. Alright so I'm a little late with her birthday post, but I'm gonna do one anyway!

One of her favorite cakes is a carrot cake. She's diabetic so I took the recipe that I had and "Splenda-rized" it. One of the main things to overcome when I bake with Splenda is to make sure that what I'm baking doesn't dry out. So I toss in an extra egg or a touch more oil, if I need to. No worries with this cake, though. I think it came out pretty well. Take a look for yourself. That's the cake in the picture on the left. I sprinkled walnuts on the top and coated the sides with more walnut pieces on top of the cream cheese icing. Yum!

Mom really enjoyed it (heck, we ALL did). I have a big slice in the freezer for the Hubby when he gets home sometime this weekend. Mom wanted to be sure he got some, too.

So Happy Birthday, Mom! I hope you enjoyed everything and I look forward to celebrating many more with you.

PS~ More cause for celebration...Mom's last day of radiation is right around the corner! Yay, Momma!

Practicality and Grace - My Momma

When I was a child I tended to think both of my parents were superhuman. As I grew older, I found out that they were simply people. People who make mistakes and are finding their way just like anyone. I was surprised to find that this didn't lessen my repect for either one of them. Quite the opposite in fact. Then my husband and I had the Bubs, my respect for them increased exponentially as I found out what it was to be a parent.


I've often sung my Momma's praises and have imparted her own particular brand of no-nonsense and insightful wisdom on more than one occassion when a friend or relative has been in a difficult situation. She's always taught my brother and I to look beyond the surface to the heart of any person or matter. To seek out the truth.

Momma was in remission from another form of cancer when she was diagnosed with breast cancer. We had had so much good news about her health lately that I found myself to be in a slight state of disbelief. That feeling quickly dissipated while listening to her tell me about the preparations for her upcoming surgery, the one that ended with the removal of her breast.
She's since had her first chemo treatment and has lost most of her hair. She shaved it all off the other day, once more confirming that my Momma has guts. She faces most every situation head on including the ones I'm sure she would rather not face, but doesn't have the luxury of turning away from.

Over the years, Momma has become one of my best friends. I'm not sure when that transition began, but I'm most definitely glad that it did and I count it to be one of the greatest things to have happened in my life. To be loved by Momma is to be loved deeply and unconditionally and, in turn, taught me to love the same way.

I'm a better woman, Christian, wife, mom, friend......everything because I was blessed with my Momma.

Proverbs 31:25-30

She is clothed with strength and dignity;

And can laugh at the days to come,

She speaks with wisdom

And faithful instruction is on her tongue.

She watches over the affairs of her household

And does not eat the bread of idleness.

Her children arise and call her blessed;

Her husband also, and he praises her:

"Many women do noble things,

But you surpass them all"

Charm is deceptive and beauty is fleeting,

But a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.