Archives for the month of: December, 2013

Making Memories – the Best Gift of All

December 31, 2013 //

A friend once commented that the only thing we can really give our children is memories. That’s a pretty important statement because it covers a lot of ground. Memories can be of lessons learned, like my mother teaching me manners or how to make a bed, or they can be painful, like hurt feelings or physical injuries or loss of loved ones. He was referring to the good ones, the fun ones, the special ones.

Watching my four year old granddaughter, who has already lost her Daddy and her other grandmother in her short life, I am amazed once again at how much little ones observe and remember. She’s at the age where she says “remember when…” a lot, already placing her memories in her ever so short past. But they are definitely stored there and who knows when she will bring them back into a conversation or how they will ultimately affect her life.

For Christmas, I gave my family a trip, a long weekend together, to Austin and San Antonio. The weekend after Christmas was the first time we could find that their schedules weren’t bogged down with sports or school or work, almost an impossibility to bring four families, 16 people together. But we did it. We spent four days traveling in four cars to two cities with eight adults and eight kids ranging from 12-16 with one four year old.

The gift for me was watching them all together, enjoying each other. We all live in the same city but it’s hard to find time to just relax and enjoy each other. The bigger kids go to school together and are close friends, so there was no teenage drama, no teen rolling his or her eyes at the parents. The little one was silly and the older ones were amused and helped with her antics. The parents all parented all the kids. I just got to sit and watch. And love them all.

Looking back at my own life, I have every kind of memory, good, bad, sad, funny. In all our lives, there are things that can’t be avoided, things that hurt, events and people we would like to forget. At best, we can learn and grow from them and put them in perspective. But, it’s important to have good memories, sweet memories, funny memories, to help balance it all out. My obsession with photos helps me with that. Not every memory has to be as elaborate as the trip we took, but it was great. We have many memories that cost us nothing and happened right at home. And, when we gather, whether it’s all of us or with some absent, all those memories are part of the conversation.

The gift for me is that my family has grown into a loud, laughing, loving bunch where there are no awkward silences, no sulking members, no hateful scenes and lots of the very best kind of memories. My resolution for 2014 is to make more of the good kind for everyone I know, family or friend. Happy New Year!

Tags Austin, Christmas, family, love, memories, photographs, resolution, San Antonio, travel

Categories Family, Friends, Holidays, Memories, Photography, Places, Reflections, Travel, Uncategorized

The Uniforms of Youth

December 19, 2013 //

Driving to meet friend since junior high for lunch, I had visions of us when we were 12 and 13, back in the 50s, walking home from school. We had the look, the look of our friends, our school, our era. We wore skirts to school back then, below the knee, straight or pleated or full with petticoats with cute blouses or oxford cloth shirts with sweaters. Our shoes were Keds or penny loafers or “rock & rollers” (a less clunky version of saddle oxfords), or flats. We wore bobby socks. The years blur and each year had its style. We stood a certain way with our school books on top of our notebook balanced on our slung out hip. You knew how to hold them to look cool. Our hair was permed, long or short. We had to have a certain coat, a car coat it was called, with a hood edged in fur. The coolest ones were made by Thermo-Jac and we wore them pushed back off our shoulders. The minute our mothers were out of sight, we slung them back, even on the coldest days. Picture us, slouching along with our socks rolled down, our coats slung back, our hips slung out with the books. Cool. Or “Stud”…our phrase of the time.

The guys had their own look. Jeans and oxford shirts or plaid shirts. At one time, wheat jeans, a beige version of Levis, were in. Their hair was crew cut or short unless you were some kind of “hood” who wore it longer with ducktails or slicked back with some kind of grease. No longer hair until The Beatles arrived. One year, all the cool guys had red lightweight jackets that were the look. They remember.

I remember a summer when I was about 13 I hung around in very short shorts and one of my dad’s old shirts. Neat. By the time I graduated, skirts were a bit shorter, hair was puffier since we now had rollers and hairspray, and we were preppier. I’ve lived through the fifties, sixties, seventies and all the looks ever since. I can’t find a perfect illustration of junior high, but here’s one from college with several looks of 1964…babushka on my hair, round collar blouse, cutoffs, the purse of the season and thongs (flip-flops now). Carefully coordinated. What goes around, comes back…

Every age has its own style. My oldest daughter started junior high and came home almost in tears the first few days because she didn’t have “the” purse. My own youth flashed back and we rushed to the store. I was amused because “the” purse was the same one I carried in college, a wooden handled purse with different covers you could button on and off, “the” purse of my day.

When my older kids were in high school, a friend and I would sit outside the school waiting for the kids to get out and figure out the styles, laughing affectionately. Waiting for my daughter to get out of soccer practice, I would note the “styles” of each of the teams at practice. The soccer team all wore their socks pushed down without their shin guards…total show of toughness…their hair all the same. You could spot who played each sport as they came off the fields because each had it’s own distinct look.

My son went through every style there ever was. I could do a photo retrospective of his ever changing hairstyles. Always challenging the norm. Always on the front edge of the next look.

As one who lived in the 50s and 60s, I’ve tried not to freak out at every style change of my kids. You pick your battles as a parent and I held tight in my heart all my own looks. From the 60s, I learned that you don’t divide a family because your son comes home with long hair, dyed hair, no hair, no matter how much you may hate it. Hair grows out and they change it again. It’s not about you. Really.

No earth-shattering insights here. The thing I remember about kids is that they’re trying to stand out, to show they are becoming more independent and growing up. They’re also showing their desire to fit in with their own peers. Of course, there are some looks that may frighten us or be signs of some other problems, but, most kids are good, just exploring the world. Remember that this too shall pass. And sigh. And try not to snicker. And, most importantly, remember yourself at that age. And try not to laugh.

Tags 50s, 60s, junior high, kids, style

Categories Family, Friends, Memories, Reflections, Style

Holiday Shopping…Kid Style

December 16, 2013 //

In a conversation with some of my grandkids, I was surprised that they weren’t thinking about gifts for their parents or siblings. When I was little, I bought presents for my parents, brother and sister and my grandparents. I had a memory of going to the dime store with $5 to buy all the gifts and coming home with Evening in Paris perfume for my mother and I can remember buying a lot of handkerchiefs for everyone.

This past few days, I’ve taken a couple of the grandkids on shopping trips so they could buy gifts. My 12-year old granddaughter has been finished for weeks, everything perfectly selected and probably wrapped by now. She’s got the whole thing figured out. No need to help her.

I took my 4-year old granddaughter shopping for her mother the other day. Since it’s just the two of them, I thought she needed to have a surprise or two for her Momma. And she’s old enough to start learning the giving part. I asked her mother likes jewelry and she replied, “Yeah, she does.” I wish I could write the inflection she uses for that phrase, because it is way too cute. She had a bit of a time picking out things because a 4-year old doesn’t understand prices very well, but we found something appropriate and special. Then we went to Target for some fillers. That’s the true test, because it was hard to get her away from the toys and what SHE wanted. She picked out something, a little treat, and I asked her if her mother liked that. She said, “Well, I do.” I guess Mom will, too. That was harder than I thought it would be because I had to watch her all the time. They get away from you so fast at that age and we all know that panicky feeling of turning around and finding them gone. In a nanosecond. She’s pretty proud of herself and promised to keep it a secret. I think that will work since she’s already moved on to something else. The learning part will come when she presents her gifts to her Momma and sees the delight.

Today, I took my 12-year old grandson shopping. He had $20 to buy gifts for his parents, his brother, and three grandparents. I told him I could help out, but he quickly made it clear he wanted to stay in his budget. We started at the sporting goods store, which was having a store-wide sale. We circled the store as the reality of prices settled in. Up until now, he’d done his holiday shopping at the little store at his elementary school where kids could buy cheap gifts, really cheap gifts, things only a parent or grandparent could smile at. He had looked so stricken when his older cousin told him that they didn’t have those stores in the middle school that I offered to take him shopping.

I told him to watch for Clearance signs, which would have the best prices. We were about to give up when he found something on the sale table for his brother. He was trying to do the math and decided this was what he wanted. We walked around some more and he found something cheaper for his brother, so he chose that to have more money for his parents’ gifts. Smart thinking going on here. He found some things he knew his parents would use, one of his criteria, and handed over his $20 bill. With the discount, he had $3 and change left, so I suggested we go to the Dollar Store to buy presents for his grandparents, since he knew what he wanted for them.

The Dollar Store is a miracle of bargains for someone on a budget and he found what he wanted immediately. He also found something for me, but didn’t want me to see it, so I gave him some change to cover taxes and hid in the car. He was so proud of himself. He had done all his shopping in less than 45 minutes, even counting driving several miles in 5:00 traffic, and stayed basically within his budget.

His next concern was hiding the gift. . .like all of us would be tearing his room apart to see what we’re going to get. I was the same way because I was a gift snooper myself. Can’t wait to see what the perfect useful gift was for me!

There’s not much cuter than watching kids learning the joy of giving and giving from their heart. Whatever we end up with really doesn’t matter. I need to check the progress of a few more grandkids in their shopping, hoping a couple more need my help. It’s one of the sweetest things about the holidays.

Tags budget, gifts, grandchildren, grandparents, holidays, presents, sales, shopping

Categories Family, Holidays, Memories, Reflections

Finding pieces of your heart

December 13, 2013 //

When you lose people you love, and we all do, most of us look for the pieces of them we have left. Photos, letters, recordings, the little things they loved. I have a few things of my husband’s and my son’s tucked away in a drawer by my bed. There are little things from my mother, father, grandparents around the house. Most of the time, the things are just there, but a lot of times seeing them warms my heart. They keep those loved ones close to me. That’s not to say I don’t have some of the same kinds of things around from family and friends who are still with me. I like to surround myself with pieces of my life.

One of the nicest things that happens is when you find a piece of the past unexpectedly. Once I found a piece of paper that was the last grocery list my husband wrote. I keep it tucked in my billfold. I guess it will wear out eventually, but it’s nice to know it’s there. I’ve got a trunk in my bedroom full of little treasures from my kids. The trunk belonged to my great-grandmother and was painted and decorated by my mother-in-law for a wedding present. I look in there every once in awhile and it’s like a bombardment of memories.

I tell people that one of the best things you can do for someone who loses a loved one is to share an old photo or memory of them. It’s like filling in a piece of the person they were. I found a box of slides in the bottom of a box last week. They were dated 1979. I must have taken them but don’t remember taking any slides. Maybe I put the wrong film in my camera or was just trying something new. I’m not sure I’d ever seen these pictures before. I realized they were from my son’s 4th birthday and took them to have prints made. We never knew what we were going to end up with in those days so some photos aren’t very good, some are almost too dark to see. There are a couple of my mother holding her youngest grandson, a month old at the time. I lightened them on the computer and they brought back her tenderness as she held that baby close to her. There’s another one, also very dark, of my sister holding her youngest, that same month old baby. So long ago, yet so close in my heart.

There are photos of my son that turn up from his friends now and then. They are good about posting them on his Facebook page, which we keep open. It’s good to see him alive and laughing. It fills in pieces of how he was when I wasn’t around. I keep a lot of things written about him and by him in a box for his daughter to have later when she wants to get to know him.

This holiday season, we all might think about finding some of the pieces for other people, reminders of loved ones. Yesterday, I got this picture of my son, seeing it for the first time, from a long ago slide. His daughter, the greatest gift he left us, just turned 4 and here he is at the same age. It makes me laugh and cry at the same time to see my little snotty nosed, goofy kid with his Wookie cake on his 4th birthday. It’s a piece of him recovered for my heart.

Tags heart, memories, photos

Categories Family, Friends, Memories, Reflections

Holidays of the Heart

December 10, 2013 //

While being snowed in for a couple of days, I’ve been decorating the house. This is no small deal as I have a vast collection of Santas and other Christmas objects. It takes me about three days to get it all out and that’s if I don’t get distracted. Part of the time is spent cleaning and clearing away everyday items to make room. It takes three steps: get everything out, make a huge mess, bring it all together.

This year, the emotions of it struck me harder than usual. Each piece I bring out has a story or brings a memory with it. There are ornaments and Santas from vacations that bring a flash of fun. There are Santas given to me by dear friends, long gone. There are ornaments from projects I worked on through the years. There’s the Santa my son gave me when he was 13, a hand made one he bought from an artist. There’s the Waterford Santa my husband bought me the year our first three grandsons were born, a Santa with a child on his lap. Little did we know that would be our last Christmas together. There are Santas and reindeer and bells brought to me by my precious little daughters. There’s a lovely snowman snow globe my daughter-in-law to be brought me when she and my son first started dating. There are some from my childhood and Santas and trees from my mother, purchased at Neiman Marcus so very many years ago.

As each of my children moved out of the house into their own, I gave them their box of ornaments. That left me with fewer, so I started using a little half tree that goes on the wall. It’s kind of my Charlie Brown Christmas tree, but it works. I have the same Santa on top I’ve had since the first year we had a tree, back in 1967. We actually married on December 23, 1966, but were on our honeymoon that year. I’ve added ornaments I found a few years ago that are picture frames with images of my family and some dear friends, even my pets. I decided these are the treasures of my life.

It’s tempting not to decorate. I don’t have the big parties I used to and it’s mostly for me, but it’s still special and fun. I usually hum while I’m working, all the beautiful and fun holiday music of our lives.

The emotions run through every day during the holidays as we celebrate with friends and family. We’re hurried to get what we want for our gift list and we’re bombarded with requests for donations from so many deserving charities. The joy is tempered by the guilt as we see one more image of a family who will have nothing when we have so much. We give canned goods and adopt families and drop coins in the Salvation Army buckets, knowing we can never do enough because the needs are so great. Some of us have someone close to us who is as needy as the people on the lists, but would never let us know. The joy of the season is tempered by the sorrow of those in pain and need.

The holidays are for sharing, sharing with all the joy in your heart. We pay it back and pay it forward and we reach out of ourselves. It’s a wonderful thing, this season of hope that brings out the best in all of us. A very wonderful time of year.

Tags Christmas, giving, memories, Santa, sharing

Categories Family, Friends, Holidays, Memories, Reflections, Seasons

Event planning is not for sissys

December 7, 2013 //

Today is my nephew’s wedding to a beautiful girl, an event they have been planning for months, down to the last detail. A dream wedding. Then life and nature stepped in. There was a snow/ice storm in Oklahoma that came up from Dallas, where the wedding is being held. Dallas was iced in, planes cancelled, power out. That means some guests, including my family and me, were unable to drive or fly in.

After years of party planning for my family, as a volunteer and then as a paid event planner, I’m used to these kinds of things. I have to say that my own wedding was in the middle of a blizzard/ice storm back in 1966. We were waiting at the church as my husband-to-be slid by. I told the minister not to worry, that he would get there. He did and I was too naive back then to worry about it. My mother had handled everything and I just wanted to get married. The details – and the worries – were hers. And everything went fine. People really are flexible.

I’ve planned many a party or event that got rained or snowed out. There was a tornado warning the day of one of my daughter’s wedding and we sat huddled in the basement that day. It doesn’t matter how carefully you plan because there is always that unknown factor and sometimes there is just no way to have a Plan B.

So, today, I’m sending much love to the bride and groom and hoping they are doing ok because I know this has been crazy. We all know they will be able to look back on this craziness and have the stories to tell. But, today, I’m sending them wishes for calmness. They will be beautiful and the wedding will go on and they will start their life together having weathered their first storm. It’s all about the marriage anyway.

I’m raising my mug of hot tea to the happy couple and toasting them with much love and many good wishes. It’s your day, Lisa and Kevin, and we can’t wait to see the pictures and hear the stories!

Tags event planning, ice storm, wedding

Categories Events, Family, Nature, Reflections

Let it snow, let it snow…

December 6, 2013 //

Today’s the first real snow we’ve had in Tulsa in a year or so, a treat to cozy up inside and enjoy the calm it brings. Snowfall quiets everything down, mutes the sounds, takes the traffic off the street, forces us to stop rushing and sit back and reflect. I know there are the days when it freezes and we lose power and can’t move around the city, even when working people have to, but there is that time when it’s just softly falling and there’s no reason to do anything but enjoy it.

The fireplace is lit, hot chocolate in the mug, soup on the stove, and nothing but quiet outside.

Except my dog, Molly, short for Good Golly Miss Molly, who wonders why I’m not out running with her in the 20 degree weather.

Now the cats and dogs are curled up, and my mind is racing back to all the snowy days of my life. My childhood when we sledded and made snow angels and snowmen and had snowball fights and drank hot chocolate and ate snow ice cream. How idyllic it was in the 1950s. It’s fun to fast forward to my own children, doing the same things, bundled up in mittens and snow suits…

and still playing as teens…

and then on to my grandchildren enjoying their first snowfalls…

I can’t believe I have to look back to see them as babies. They grow up so fast. Sigh.

Later, I’m going to bundle up and go play outside, even for a short time. Because it’s still magic and I still can…

Tags fireplace, hot chocolate, snow, snow angels, snowmen, Tulsa, winter

Categories Memories, Nature, Pets, Restaurants, Seasons

Rural Roads…Southwest Oklahoma

December 3, 2013 //

When you live in a city, you need to leave every now and then, travel the quieter spaces of rural areas. Every state and country has them and you need to be there to get a true perspective on what a region is about. You need to put the crazy ways of the city up against the quiet ways of the country and understand the people who inhabit both.

I’d never really been in Southwest Oklahoma, so I went. Staying in Quartz Mountain Resort, in the middle of agricultural and cattle lands, traveling to Wichita Mountains Wildlife Refuge, a national treasure, and driving through the small towns and rural roads was a trip that taught me much more about my state, adding to what I know and love about our country.

I love the county seats, like Cordell, with its beautiful county courthouse in the middle of the plaza. This one is on the national historic register, designed by the same architect who designed the state capitol.

I love the towns that still have their Carnegie libraries, like Lawton.

Lawton has destroyed their historic downtown, replacing it years ago with a mall, but they did keep the lovely home of Mattie Beal, a young telephone operator from Kansas whose name was drawn in the land lottery, giving her the means to become one of the city’s most beloved benefactors.

I love the little touches of the past preserved, like this Phillips station in Altus.

And this stop light in Hobart.

And the little towns that were built on hope and never really went anywhere. Who wouldn’t like to say they are from Indiahoma, Oklahoma? Say what?

Or Gotebo, pronounced Go’-Tee-Bow, where the most going business is dog grooming from the looks of things.

I love the little old movie theaters like the Redskin in Anadarko, a mostly Native American community, where they can get away with politically incorrect things like that,