33 Years!

It was 33 years ago today that I moved into my home as a young bride. This house is full of a lot of memories that are very dear to me. These walls have seen many changes, both in the family that resides here, and the interior appearance.

I had the thrill as a young 24-year-old to pick out all the colors for carpet and wallpaper, and all light fixtures, cabinet/drawer knobs and handles, and mirrors. It was an exciting experience. The house was finally finished and ready for us to move in on July 15, 1974, just one month after our marriage. There were many trees in the back yard, but none in the front. We planted the crepe mytles in memory of Chezzy's son who died in a car accident, and an oak tree, and three pines. They are so large now that they obscure the front of the house!

Being 1974, you can imagine the color scheme. The carpets were avocado green, with an orange shag in the playroom. The kitchen wallpaper was a busy, bold pattern of large green, yellow, and orange flowers. Now, 33 years later, the kitchen is on its third wallpaper design and in need of a fourth. Actually, I hope to remove the wallpaper all together, texture the walls, and add a delightful color of paint.

We did a total remodeling in 1989 and 1990. All the earth tones were replaced with pastels in blue, pink and green. I went crazy with the country look, which I am so tired of, but it will have to do until medical bills are paid. The pool was added in the fall of 1979, and it, too, is in need of repairs. Any home, no matter what the age, is subject to repairs.

A few times I've thought about selling this house and buying something else, but the sentimental attachment I feel for this home takes over and I dismiss that idea. It's the only home Angela ever knew until she entered the dorm and college life, then married. My entire marriage to her father is cherished within these walls. My ups and downs, my transitions from wife, widow, to wife again. My young mother status to that of a middle-aged grandmother, about to see the arrival of her ninth grandchild.

This is the home where my three children got their learner's permit, dressed for their first date, had numerous sleepovers, scurried to the den on Christmas mornings, and graduated from high school and college. This house has prepared for three weddings with nervous brides and mom, and the pool which once gave hours of enjoyment to my children and their friends, now welcomes my grandchildren. I've always wanted a home with a history. I have it now.

Robin and I have spent the past nine years together in this home. Occasionally, we will discuss a possible future beach house or country home, but for now we remain content. As our life changes, our needs might change, too. A move to another house might happen someday. We never know what the future holds. I do know, however, that it would be hard to say goodbye to home.

Note: Part 3 of Our Story will appear tomorrow. Thank you all for your comments and interest.

Happy Anniversary, Angela & Clayton!

I give this woman, Clayton

To be your wedded wife.

My last child, my precious daughter

To forever share your life.

I give her unreservedly

For I know you realize

How deep and strong and gentle

Shines the love within her eyes.

Please take the love she offers,

It's deeply rooted in her heart.

And know she'll always cherish

The tender love that you impart.

I give this woman, Clayton

In ivory satin, pearls and lace.

Amid love songs and scented flowers,

A gentle glow upon her face.

Take her moods and sensitivity,

Give her wings so she can fly.

As you take the time to know her

Your wants and needs she won't deny.

I give this woman, Clayton

How I wish her Daddy knew!

He'd said no man was good enough,

He's missed the joy of knowing you.

I feel so blessed and grateful

For the training that you had,

The special molding and direction

Given by your Mom and Dad.

I give this woman, Clayton

Remain steadfast by her side.

I'm so thankful God is once again

The Father of the bride.

1996, for my daughter, Angela.

Our Story - Part Two

As the grief recovery seminar entered its third week, it was time for Cheryl to share her story with the group. I already knew we both had Polish last names and that our husbands died in June from cancer. I did not know the similarities would continue as she, too, talked about her fairytale marriage to Tony.

Suddenly it seemed as though the rest of the people in our group had dissipated as Cheryl and I continued eye contact, sharing our story - as Cheryl talked, I nodded with tears stinging my own eyes, listening to someone tell me what my whole life had been about. Her husband with his Polish heritage, their age difference, her role as nurse and caregiver, and how Tony dressed as Santa Claus at Christmas and passed out candy to all the kids. My own husband had been dubbed the "Candy Man" because of all the candy he filled his pockets with before he went to church. The kids knew and were always waiting for him.

As Cheryl described the love and adoration she had received from Tony, I realized I wasn't the only woman who had ever perched on a lofty pedestal. Cheryl had been there, too. As she relived Tony's final moments, I could feel the horrible ache of watching Chezzy slip away from me. So much of Tony's character reminded me of the man I had loved. He was romantic and passionate. He was the giver of gifts and compliments. He was generous and loving and always ready to listen. She could have been describing Chezzy. And what was so incredibly unbelievable was the respect both men demanded from their mothers-in-law: "I'm Mr. Polack".

"He actually said that?" I asked Cheryl some time later. "Mr. Polack? That's exactly what Chezzy told my mother to call him!"

She confirmed that Tony had actually said it. Both men with their wonderful sense of humor asked for a little respect when calling them a Polack.

Cheryl told us that night that Tony had died from multiple myeloma, a cancer affecting both his skull and spine. Our husbands had died 22 days apart. We would learn later that "22" was a number we had in common as we revealed our birthdays: January 22 and February 22. Cheryl will proudly let you know I am 13 months to the day older than her. And the age difference between our husbands and us? Fourteen years and thirteen years. Both couples married in 1974, moved into our new homes on July 15, just three years apart, and Cheryl and I spent what would have been our 19th anniversaries as forty-two and forty-three year old widows.

I finally approached Cheryl at the end of that third meeting and told her she was right, I couldn't believe the similarities. We continued talking until we were in the parking lot. We began sitting together at the seminar, and I met Cheryl for lunch at a cafeteria close to her home in De Soto, then followed her home for more sharing and crying.

"Tony was a MP in the Army," Cheryl told me.

I stared at her. "Chezzy was, too."

"He grew up as a Catholic," she went on. "There was a time when he wanted to become a priest."

"Chezzy, too," I said as my eyes grew wide. "His Dad didn't want his only son to be a priest and, frankly, I can't imagine him being one."

"I can't either," Cheryl said, and we both laughed.

But in those early days, laughter between us was very seldom as we leaned on each other for understanding and support.

Our Story - Part One

Note: Our Story is one I've always felt needed to be told. Although many variables are in place here, it's mainly a story of how all the circumstances at the time led to a lasting friendship. It includes the mention of pain, loss, uncertainty, and fear, but it is about Friends.

"My name is Peggy and I lost my husband to cancer in June."

It was August 19, 1993. I'm convinced that I was introducing myself at a grief recovery seminar out of divine intervention. Yes, I'd planned on attending; I needed to learn how to cope with my loss, discover what was expected of grief, and how to continue living my life without my beloved husband. What I hadn't expected, was to have my world further rocked earlier that day with devastating news about my company. This, at a time when I was in the middle of moving the business to a new location due to circumstances out of my control.

I was shaken to my core with the news I'd learned. That news is not important now, except to reveal how I almost didn't go to the seminar. I remember driving there, out of a need to confront my grief, yet my mind so boggled by the day's events. I'll never forget how my foot shook so badly as I tried to keep it on the gas pedal as I headed to Duncanville for the seminar. The thought of food made me sick and I arrived there with an empty, churning stomach.

Much of that first meeting was a blur. The counselor went around the room asking us to give our name and tell who we lost, and when. There were a few who had lost a spouse like me, others who were dealing with the passing of a parent or other family member. In my muddled mind, I clearly heard one introduction and related to her. I could feel her pain.


"I'm Cheryl and I lost my husband to cancer in June."

I lost my husband to cancer in June. Besides saying almost the exact words I'd said, she also caught my attention when her voice, choked with tears, broke as she shared that one sentence. I knew instantly that we were in the same place, feeling the same loss, and hoping the seminar would show some magic way to take the hurt away.

After the introductions, the counselor explained the need to tell our stories, over and over if need be, so that healing could begin. She started with the first person seated in the semi-circle and asked that they tell their story. This continued until time to close the meeting. To my surprise and relief, my mind released some of its shock and preoccupation as I listened to all the expressed pain that surrounded me that night. I was definitely not alone.

I left that night without speaking to anyone, not even the woman who had caught my attention because we shared the same loss. I've learned that grief can be so draining. I wanted to reach out, but I discovered many times that I felt I had nothing to give. I was an empty vessel.

The following week, our second meeting, it was my turn to tell my story. I told about a fairytale marriage that had been cut short by pancreatic cancer. I told about the sheet metal business I'd been left with, not the ideal company for a woman. I shared my hurts and those of my children, how I became a nurse over night, and about my husband's Polish heritage, our age difference, and how none of it was ever an obstacle in our marriage. As the meeting ended, a man in the group told me how much he admired my strength and courage to continue running a sheet metal business in the absence of my greatest support. I thanked him, and left. There was so much on my mind that I still hadn't spoken to the woman named Cheryl.

The third week of the seminar arrived and it was Cheryl's turn to tell her story. Before she began, this woman who had never met me before turned to me and said, "You won't believe the similarities in our stories."

She had my rapt attention and I was stunned by what she revealed.

Happy 2nd Birthday, Juliet!

Little Juliet

If heaven sent an angel

To fill a special place,

I know it would be Juliet

By the sweetness in her face.

With her delicate little features

And her big chocolate eyes,

I'm sure our little Juliet

Is an angel in disguise.

She loves being a girl

Who wears a pretty dress.

And sometimes she's just a toddler

Who has made another mess.

Juliet is a Daddy's Girl,

She's completely won his heart.

And often clings to Mommy

If she fears they'll be apart.

Yes, if heaven sent an angel

To spread love and grace,

I can see a heavenly presence

In Juliet's glowing face.

Happy 2nd birthday, Juliet. Memaw loves you so much!

Bandera Bound (I Wish)

Problems are mounting every day,
I'm anxious now to run away.
My mind's no longer safe and sound,
How I long to be Bandera bound.

Work's become a major stress,
Bills are more, money's less.
I need a dose of my BB,
Bandera's where I long to be.

With daily naps and games to play,
It keeps the tension far away.
It's a happy time with treats galore,
Bandera! I keep wanting more!

A haven of peace and solitude,
No bill collectors being rude.
Just pleasant talk with my BB,
Bandera's where I long to be.

With medical bills out of mind,
Like other debts, all left behind,
My tension finds a blessed end
When spending time with a cherished friend.

If heaven had an earthly site,
No more troubles, no more fight.
I know exactly where I'd be,
In Bandera with my BB.

Happy Birthday, Camryn!

Happy birthday, Camryn,

You're someone I adore.

And with each passing birthday,

I grow to love you more.

Today you're "Darling Fourteen",

Oh, how time has flown!

Our precious baby girl

Before our eyes have grown.

You have such a tender heart,

And there's beauty in your smile.

Your character is genuine.

Only goodness, nothing vile.

You apply yourself at school

And make us all feel proud.

You bring a ray of sunshine

Where before were only clouds.

You have learned that beauty

Is inside as well as out.

Sincerity and gentleness

Are what Camryn's all about.

Happy birthday, Sweetheart,

Enjoy your special day.

And know that you are loved

Even more than I can say.

July 8, 2007, By Memaw

Another Pick-Me-Up

Patty was over for a visit this evening and I told her about Robin standing me in front of the perfume counter and what I chose. Then, we sat down with coffee and she reached in her purse and said, "here's another pick-me-up". I see a perfume box and my heart starts racing. It's a brand new fragrance and I just love trying something new.

It's the latest from the Estee Lauder Pleasures line, called Pleasures Delight. It is a delight. It smells wonderful. Pleasures and Pleasures Intense are two of my favorites, and now I can add Pleasures Delight. I was not that pleased with Pleasures Exotic and never got any of it. Oh boy! I have two new bottles!

Now, I need to invest in a large china cabinet to keep them all. I have two small hanging cabinets that are packed, and one large space of my vanity is so full that some bottles are stacked or hanging precariously off the edge. What a problem to have. I'm like a drunk in a liquor store!

A Pick-Me-Up

Robin called me at work yesterday and told me to come home, prepared to leave again for a pick-me-up. He knows well the repercussions I've been dealing with at work from the machine being down. Although it is fixed for now, the down time caused a substantial loss of money. Operating until receivables increase has been tough. This isn't a new situation, I've dealt with this problem many times. But it does get old, and it wears me down.

Knowing me as he does, Robin took me straight to the perfume counter. I enter into some kind of heavenly bliss when in the presence of so much perfume. It is a passion of mine, an indulgence that my friends and family satisfy. I immediately start sniffing all the different fragrances, but with an idea that I know what I want and need to replenish.

Patty had loaned me a bottle of Pure Poison to try. I loved it and wore it four days straight, an act that is very unusual for me. I do not have a signature fragrance, but prefer having a variety of scents. Thus, explaining my 125+ bottles of perfume, few of which I bought for myself. I can thank Patty for most of them since she shares my passion for good smells.

Since Robin wasn't crazy about Pure Poison and after I checked out the price, I decided to get Oscar de la Renta. I had a teeny bit left in a bottle and it's a fragrance I enjoy wearing once in awhile. Robin assured me the price didn't matter, but being the considerate person I am, and the fact that I wanted more Oscar before I ran out, I went the cheaper route.

It surprises me that Oscar de la Renta has gone down in price. When I first started wearing it years ago it could only be purchased through Neiman Marcus and the real perfume was over $200. It was packaged so beautifully and the bottle had a crystal top. It became my favorite fragrance for awhile with its fresh, powdery scent. Now, it can be bought in a simple spray bottle at CVS and Walgreens. So, what used to be some fancy stuff has now been reduced to the level of musk and Tabu. Almost.

When I wear Oscar to work, my son, Ron, tells me I have "an old woman smell". Okay, it isn't the latest in fragrances, but old woman? He has opinions about my other perfumes too. Once in awhile I will hear that my perfume smells good. Most of the time, though, he politely asks, "what is that %@#& you're wearing?". I've been forced to tell my son that he wasn't on my mind when I selected my perfume for the day and I'm sorry it offends him. For very selfish reasons, I wear perfume for myself. I even wear it to bed. I even wear it to bed when Robin is out of town.

So, today I have that "old woman" smell and I'm enjoying it very much. Maybe tomorrow I will wear my latest Prada or Insolence, but for now I am enjoying a pick-me-up by my thoughtful husband who knows which buttons to push most of the time. Thank you, Babe.

Happy Anniversary, Jerry & Sharon

Allison's in-laws, Jerry and Sharon, are celebrating their 40th wedding anniversary this weekend with a party hosted by their children.

As part of the celebration, Allison collected tributes from their friends and family, recent and not-so-recent pictures of their life together, and compiled it all into a beautiful scrapbook. Now that the secret is out - they were presented the scrapbook last night - I can share the poem I wrote for the occasion. My daughter, Angela, suggested that I post it and I said I would after the scrapbook was revealed.

Jerry is a pastor and much of their life was traveling around the country and ministering in various churches. Their 40-year marriage produced three children and five grandchildren (so far?). Happy Anniversary, Jerry and Sharon. May the Lord bless you with many, many more years together.

Take This Journey

Take this journey with me
In the early morning light.
Our future shines before us,
Hold my hand and squeeze it tight.

The path may not be easy
As we travel far and wide,
But God's directing every step
And you're close by my side.

Take this journey with me
As we proclaim the written word.
Share a ministry from heaven.
The dearest ever heard.

Together we'll have a family,
Our lives will be complete.
As we love and lead and cherish
Three little sets of feet.

Take this journey with me,
Life is sweeter when it's shared.
Embrace the love that's offered,
Know how much I've always cared.

And when this journey's over,
Our eternal home's in sight;
Praise God He traveled with us
From morning unto night.

A Date With Camryn

As our custom is, Camryn and I shopped this afternoon for her upcoming birthday. We went to Northeast Mall to visit some specialty stores that she likes. She found a cute top, but didn't model it for me in the store since my camera bag was slung over my shoulder. I bought the top and told her grandmas are supposed to embarrass.

Next, she wanted to browse Victoria's Secret. Yep, I have a granddaughter - two, in fact - old enough to suggest a trip to VS. She picked out two tubes of lip gloss in yummy flavors. When we got in the car, she immediately applied bubble gum lip gloss.

We left the mall and went to splurge at Chili's. We ordered chips and queso, burgers and fries. As a special birthday treat, Camryn had a chocolate shake to go. Robin had told her over the phone not to belch in the restaurant and I'm proud to say that Camryn acted like the lady she is.

Camryn was sporting a brand new Coach purse, compliments of her Mom and Dad for her 14th birthday. Weekend plans include a gathering of friends to stay at the Gaylord Texan. Once she's back home on Sunday, I will take her the traditional homemade chocolate ice cream that I always make for their birthdays.

I always have such a good time on these outings with the grandchildren. Spending quality time with each one is a blessing. And I love my part in making their birthdays special. Camryn is a joy and a beautiful girl, inside and out. She's looking forward to entering high school the end of August. Our pretty little girl is growing up. Thanks for a wonderful afternoon, Camryn. I love you dearly.

Happy Birthday, America

With the deluge of rain we've been having, Robin and I made no concrete plans for July 4th. Since we both work, staying home and being lazy sounded great. I usually don't get a day off from laundry, so this was a treat in itself.

I slept late and coffee was ready when I finally got my lazy self out of the bed. I downloaded two more games of the hidden object variety, and Robin and I played them for awhile. I tease him that his ADD kicks in before he can finish a game and he tells me I'm addicted because not only do I finish them, I play them over again.

In the afternoon Robin suggested that we find a Dairy Queen and get a sample of the waffle treats we've seen on their commercials. What could be more American than Dairy Queen? But they are hard to find unless one visits little country towns. Robin got on the internet and found one in Arlington, much to our surprise and delight. They have three flavors to choose from: chocolate sundae, strawberry, and turtle. We both chose turtle. The waffle bowl is rimmed in chocolate then filled with vanilla ice cream, which is garnished with caramel sauce, chopped nuts, and whipped cream. Not bad.

Another American staple is meat and potatoes. Tonight we ate prime rib and baked potatoes at Steak & Ale. Yummy. When asked if we wanted dessert we told our waiter we had already indulged. Like the saying goes: Life is short, eat dessert first. We did.

Tomorrow will be work as usual. But we enjoyed our day together, doing simple things and loving every minute of it.

A Visit With Sophia

Randee and Sophia stopped by today for a short visit. I love it when I have one-on-one time with the grandchildren. We had bought a little soft doll for Sophia that giggles when you push her belly button. I've always loved baby laughter so I bought the doll immediately.

Sophia was all dressed up and had a pink bow in her hair. I should have gotten a picture of her beautiful mother who was also dressed up and had just performed at a church with Kindred Voices. A lovely visit, just too short.

Jordan and Riley Are 2!

Robin's twin grandchildren, Jordan and Riley, will turn two on July 5. We attended a family birthday party in their honor at the home of Uncle Robin Jr. and Aunt Sarah.

They really got into the gift unwrapping, especially Jordan. But then, girls are usually into that sort of thing. Their Aunt Angie made cupcakes for them and decorated them in many colors.

Robin Jr. was in charge of the grill and he dished out hamburgers and hotdogs. He prepared many delicious appetizers, too. This was our first time to see the home they are renting and it was lovely. They have worked hard to get it fixed up and decorated.

Thank you Robin and Sarah for having us over and for the good food. Happy birthday, Jordan and Riley!

Happy Feet

Patty treated me to a deluxe spa pedicure gift certificate, which I happily redeemed yesterday. The soothing legs and feet massages were heavenly. Relaxing in a vibrating chair wasn't shabby either.

I opted for the French pedicure again because it lasts so long and is very versatile. I don't have to change polish to match what I'm wearing. This time they put a dainty flower on my big toes with a hint of pink and a tiny rhinestone in the center. I feel so girlie!

While there, I had my eyebrows waxed again. Next week I will have another laser hair removeal treatment, compliments of my beautiful daughters for Mother's Day. Thank you girls and Patty! I appreciate all the personal attention!

Robin's Gellin'

Robin's feet were tired and swellin',

In his eyes the tears were wellin'.

I was so concerned I kept yellin',

"You and your shoes need to get gellin'!"

Robin was horrified that I wanted to write a post about his new inserts for his shoes. Not that he's embarrassed to have the new accessories, but because the gellin' commercial is so irritating. I agreed, but told him that is what makes it so funny. He cringes now when I ask if he's gellin'.

He's happy now is what I'm tellin'

'Cause the drug store now is sellin'

Cushioned pads to stop the swellin',

Hallelujah, Robin's gellin'!

Caught In A Mouse Trap

A couple of weeks ago I opened the pantry and noticed mouse droppings. Later, I discovered a tiny chew mark in a new bag of chocolate chips. I informed Robin that we had a mouse visiting our pantry. He immediately set a mouse trap. We checked it daily, but no mouse.

Well, we caught something last night. I opened the pantry to retrieve something I needed while cooking dinner. There was suddenly a loud SNAP and pain in my right foot. It felt like I'd stepped on fragile glass that splintered into my foot on impact. I looked down, expecting to find shards of glass and blood all over my foot. What I found was the mouse trap clinging to my flip-flop. Apparently when I jumped from the shock and pain, the trap let go of my foot but stayed with my shoe.

My thoughts went to Jude who picked up an activated mouse trap in my parents' pantry a few months ago. It also snapped on his fingers and he dropped it right away. He looked somewhat embarrassed, but not necessarily in pain. Now I know the big boy was holding it in. The bite of a trap hurts! It really felt like glass going into my foot.

Once I recovered, Robin and I laughed over it and he's been teasing me about how he caught a big rat. He told me this morning I should blog about the big rat that was caught in our trap. So, here it is, Robin. A laugh once in awhile at my expense is okay. However, there is a pesky mouse still on the loose.

Here Comes The Tooth Fairy!

Thomas, my oldest grandson, lost his first tooth last night. I was on the phone with his Dad when I heard Thomas's squeal of delight at finding his loose tooth had separated from his gums after biting into a stick of string cheese.

When I saw him earlier that day he had proudly showed me how his tooth would wiggle when he touched it. He took it as a sign of how big he was getting. Wow, about to enter first grade and a missing tooth - that's grown up!

He awoke this morning to look to see if the Tooth Fairy had remembered to stop by. His tiny tooth was put in a pill bottle so it wouldn't be lost and the Fairy placed two dollars in the bottle with the tooth. Notice his handsome, toothless smile. Congratulations, Thomas! You have paved the way for Jude and Ashton.

More Flowers, More Dirt

Apparently Robin thinks I had a wonderful time planting flowers so he rushed out and bought more while I was at church. This time we planted begonias at the mailbox planter. Robin has put me in charge of watering them. He's in charge of telling me when they need water since I have a bad habit of making my indoor plants beg. When they are slumped over as if in prayer, it reminds me that all living things need water.

I was really touched by Robin's interest in adding color and beauty around our house until he told me the act of planting would keep me off the computer. Then, in exasperation, he told me, "I bought you flowers to plant to keep you busy and away from the computer and here you are blogging about the flowers". Sorry. Such is the nature of blogging.

We added leftover flowers to the planter by the pool so we now have an assortment of flowers there. I will keep you informed about their growth in pictures. Or not. Depends on how well they survive under my care.

Where Have All The Flowers Gone?

I hope Robin and I aren't singing this old ballad in a few weeks after our recent attempt at gardening. I came home from work to find many bags of top soil and two large flats of flowers. While Robin cleaned the pool I emptied bags of soil into the flower planter, then asked him why I was doing the hard part. Those bags are heavy!

Once the soil was even and smooth, we arranged the flowers and checked the spacing before pushing them gently in the damp earth. Now, we're hoping our thumbs are greener than we think they are. Neither one of us is given to gardening.

I wish gardening was my cup of tea. I love lush lawns and colorful blooms, but I want to admire them after someone else has tended to them. I equate gardening to camping. Why leave the comfort of my home to go outside and rough it? It's never made sense to me. I have a comfortable mattress, indoor plumbing, and central air and heat. To give all that up to sleep in a tent, on hard ground, would be torture. The lack of a bathroom is even more unthinkable.

So it shouldn't come as any surprise that I don't relish getting my hands in dirt, wiping perspiration, and feeling the aches and pains in my back as I empty another bag of top soil. I actually had dirt under my fingernails. Robin commented that he'd never before seen my hands covered in dirt. I assured him he probably hadn't.

I must admit, however, that once the chore was completed, I showered and cooked dinner, then looked outside and felt proud of our simple gardening. I just might tackle the planter around the mailbox next. But Robin will be lifting the bags.