Archives for category: Family

Heaven

January 28, 2015 //

I found this piece I wrote about 10 years ago – long before I had a blog. It’s all still true, but I’d add my son and others to the list of those who are there. Thought I’d share…

There is a heaven. I decided this in my heart a long time ago. I tried to rationalize it as something our brains make up to help us get through the tough times in life or that the idea is planted there by stories and myths. I tried to think like those of the Jewish faith that this is all there is. When our life is over, we are gone. I tried to fit that into my head and hold onto the thought. But, in my heart, I have found that my truth is that there is a heaven. Of course, I won’t know until I die if I am right, but that is beside the point. What makes sense to me now is that there is a heaven.

Do I live my life trying to get to heaven? I don’t set it as a goal or a prize. My life on earth is not worth much if I don’t make the most of it, if I don’t use the moments I have to see the beauty of people and earth I have around me here. It’s like when I travel – I try to see everything I can because I don’t know if I will ever get this way again. I don’t want to be a good person because I am afraid of what will happen if I’m not. I want to be the kind of person that I can live with for eternity, because in the scheme of things, we will always be with ourselves.

Heaven has been on my mind. My grandson was telling me what he knew about heaven – that his Sunday School teacher told him that you could run and run and not run out of breath. And that God and Jesus would be there. And he pictured his granddaddy there, running and running and not out of breath. It made me smile because I doubt that is what his granddaddy would be doing. I would imagine in his heaven he is hunting and fishing and playing golf and walking around the fields and watching the stars in the night sky. I would imagine he is cooking for his family and cheering on his teams and having a beer with his buddies and coming home to tell me his stories and hold me in his arms. I can only imagine.

My heaven? My heaven.

My heaven will look like earth. There will be mountains, hills and plains, oceans, lakes, rivers and streams. There will be water near me where I can swim and dive underneath and sit beside it and walk on its shores and smell it and hear it and feel it in the air.

There will be days and nights so I can see sunrises and sunsets and feel the sun and watch the stars and moon.

There will be changing seasons so I can watch the leaves change colors, the flowers grow, the snow falling. I will be able to feel the heat of the sun and the chill of the air.

There will be rain with thunder and lightning.

The people I love will be there. I will have my husband, my father, my grandparents, and all my friends who have gone before me. There will be people to talk to and there will be laughter and conversation.

I don’t know how we will look. I leave that detail up to heaven. I guess it doesn’t matter if we are young or old or all the same age. I suspect we will recognize each other. I don’t care what we will be wearing. In my heaven we will be comfortable.

We will watch fireworks and go to school carnivals.

There will be big dinners and the men will cook outdoors and we will all bring something and everyone will be talking around the table.

There will be music and there will be dancing.

There will be times of quiet reflection.

In my heaven, we will sit before fires when it is cold and under the stars when it is warm.

We will blow bubbles and sway in swings and hammocks.

We will hold each other close and know that we won’t have to say goodbye.

There will be sex, heavenly sex, with the one I love.

I will see the earth and watch those I love and know that they will be ok. I will visit them when they need me to let them know that I am never far away and they will feel me near and know that I love them.
What will not be in my heaven?

Worry. Disease. Hate. Meanness. Cruelty. War.
I have known life on earth. My heaven would be to choose what I get to take with me forever.

Because I can’t imagine that there are things more wonderful than what I have known here.

Maybe that will be the surprise.

Tags Heaven

Categories Family, Friends, Reflections

The Hospital

January 22, 2015 //

When I entered the hospital yesterday, I was fully aware of the memories it held and would bring back. They start 65 years ago when I stood on the street and my mother waved to us from her hospital room window after having my sister. Children weren’t allowed inside back then. My memories with this building flooded my mind all day.

I had a minor surgery here when I was in high school

Two of my children were born here

My daughter had surgery on her shoulder after being hit by a car at college

Seven of my grandchildren were born here

My father and mother were here with various surgeries and tests through the years

My mother died here

My husband had cancer surgery and some chemotherapy here

We’ve had numerous visits to the emergency room with many family members

My son was diagnosed with cancer here and pronounced dead here 10 years later

I had two surgeries here a couple of years ago

The list goes on and on and I can’t even focus on the other friends and family who have been here at various times in their lives

Walking the halls for even a second brings back so many emotions, both good and bad, but all strong, overwhelming even. Yesterday, I went to the surgical waiting room to sit with my daughter while her husband had cancer surgery. Family and friends gathered throughout the grueling day and they were so important to help us through the hours of waiting. The waiting is always the hardest. Sharp contrast to our family waiting for new babies to be born on that happier floor.

The Hospital is an amazing place, where worried families wait and worry and try to understand medical language and diagnoses and friends come to visit hospital rooms to show love and encouragement and support. There are volunteers who compassionately help you through the procedures and to find your way through the winding corridors. The medical staff has always been incredibly wonderful to my family in every conceivable circumstance.

The Hospital is a place of fear, of hope, of excitement, and of healing.

The Hospital is a place where the world outside keeps going while your life stands still.

You wear your best walking shoes just to get wherever you’re going from the parking lot. You try to remember where you parked this day. I’ve stood in the parking lot a few times so exhausted that I could not remember what floor I had left the car on, trying to keep back tears of frustration. My daughter was smart enough yesterday to take a picture of her parking place with her phone so she would remember.

You learn where all the bathrooms, snack machines, and cafeteria are located and how to find the chapel if you need a quiet moment. You become a part of the big machine that is helping your loved one, a part of the process.

And, life outside goes on.

I guess there is a comfort in the familiar, although I am in disbelief when I start to remember so very many visits there. I’m grateful I live a short distance away and have such resources available to my family. I’m grateful for all the wonderful doctors, nurses, and every member of the staff who are so encouraging and make it as easy as they can for patients and families. I’m thankful for the times we live in where medical procedures are advancing forward at such rapid rates and we can benefit by these new discoveries.

I’m thankful for family and friends, who give us hugs and shoulders to lean on and listen to us and bring food and love and care for us.

Life goes on outside, but The Hospital is always there, waiting for us when we need it. I hope you have a place like our hospital when you need it. The Hospital is where I go when my life stops for a moment and then it goes on, changed in a new way each time.

Tags hospital, St John Medical Center Tulsa

Categories Family, Friends, Memories, Reflections

New Year…

January 1, 2015 //

New Year’s Eve used to mean getting together with friends to toast in the next year together, complete with hats and horns. Those days gave way to staying home with the kids and banging pots and pans while listening to the sounds of the celebrators in the distance. And then it became a day to end the old and bring in the new, whatever it was bringing with it.

I’m trying to remember all my New Year’s Eves, especially the ones that came with promises of lives changed. There was the year right after my father died, helping my mother get through it.

There was the year my husband had cancer. We went to a Bowl Game with the strength he found somewhere and flew home while my mother was having quadruple bypass surgery. That was a year that started off with us knowing there would be changes.

The millennium 2000 celebration was hard because I’d always pictured it coming in while I stood by my husband’s side. Who knew he wouldn’t be there with me?

I don’t know. New Years are always full of hope and promise. This year I’m thinking of turning the calendar differently. We’re all older, which goes without saying. We’re celebrating the fact that we’re here, kind of like we celebrate our birthdays.

This year, I’m going to celebrate that it’s 2015 and not 1915 or 1815 or before. This is a great time to be alive, a time when we have possibilities not even imagined earlier. There are more chances for learning, for exploring, for creating than ever before. If we want to change our lives, there are resources available. If we are sick or injured, there are more medical options than at any time in man’s history. If we want to play, there are more exciting places to do so.

I’m going to take this year to be grateful for all I’ve been able to see and do and all the wonderful people I have met. I don’t know how this year will stack up with the others I’ve known, but it doesn’t matter. It’s all a journey where some years are smooth, some are rough, and some are thankfully boring, but all are steps forward to being who we are.

My husband told me once that we always pray for strength. I was taken with the surety in his voice when he said it, so I’ll follow his words. We pray for the strength to face what the year brings us as we rejoice in the fact that we’re here to face the future. May I see you here next year, facing the next year and then the next and then the next…

Happy New Year!

Tags Happy New Year

Categories Family, Holidays, Reflections

‘Tis the Season

December 27, 2014 //

Looking back over the holiday season, starting with Halloween, it’s been a different one. For sure. Nothing was the way it usually is in my life up until Christmas Day, which was its typical madhouse of family and fun. Thank goodness for that.

Maybe I’m more aware these days, now that I’m not caught up in all the things I did in my past lives, things like racing four children around to Christmas programs and parties, cooking madly every day, sending out Christmas cards, running a retail store during the holidays, preparing for a Christmas fundraiser (several times at various stages of my life), or wrapping a million presents. I still do cook and shop and wrap presents, although I don’t have to run around town or the whole state looking for a rare Star Wars character or a special purse or all the “had to have” gifts for my kids that we had to physically look for in the olden days. I shop both local and online, so I can find what I want pretty quickly, unless I don’t have a clue what to get. Still a problem.

Thanks to Facebook, I traveled the holidays with friends far and near, watching the preparations of the younger families, sharing memories with my older friends, delighting in masses of photos of how the kids and grandkids are growing. It’s a gift that keeps on giving, this sharing of lives. Thanks for Mark Zuckerberg and whoever invented Instagram for that and don’t let me hear your gripes. It is what it is and you don’t have to be a part of it if it’s not your cup of tea.

Mostly, I’m taken with the people I know who have suffered through the holidays, suffered with loneliness, depression, health issues, grief, anger and bitterness, debilitating illness. There are a lot of people battling demons during the season in which we are supposed to be jolly. There were political issues and divides and scary world threats and all kinds of things that should have made the season not so great. No matter how hard we try, we can’t make the world perfect even for a few days to celebrate the rituals of our faith or the beginning of a new year that we hope will be more perfect.

But, we keep trying. I watched as people I love reached for the joy of the season to stave off the realities of the days that will follow, days of realization that a loved one is gone, days of facing new situations in life due to job loss or illness or more days of loneliness ahead. Some are beaten too far down to lift up for the holidays at all. They suffer through, waiting for it to all be over. Our hearts are touched, even in our own days of celebration.

So, we’re mostly past the season of being jolly, just waiting for the end of this year, waiting for the new year that will bring us…well, we really don’t know what it will bring us, do we? So the message is to celebrate each day we are here, celebrate the good things in our lives, reach out to those who need us to be there for them. There are no guarantees in this life and we really have no idea what lies ahead, no matter how much in control we think we are. The best we can do is to love – love life, love nature, love others, love ourselves. The love of this season and every season and every day is the message.

I hope your 2014 was good and that your 2015 is the best!

Tags Facebook, holidays, seasons

Categories Family, Friends, Holidays, Memories, Reflections

Santa years

December 19, 2014 //

There are so many ways to mark the history of a family. Birthdays, holidays, seasons, vacations, school events and every day activities are signs of passing years. Before photography…well, I can’t even imagine what they did. There weren’t that many paintings or drawings per family that I’ve ever seen.

I don’t know when the first pictures with Santa started, but they were probably with department store Santas as a way to get customers in the door. I know there were visits with Santa before that, but the photos were a commercial addition to our holidays. When I was little, we didn’t seem to do it every year. In fact, I only have one. Here is me with my brother and another one of my husband, both photos taken in 1950 when my husband and I were both 5. By the time my children were born, it became an annual event, part of the traditions of the holidays. I took them to shopping centers and later to Santa House, a non-profit fundraiser which I worked on for years. Here is one taken in 1975 with me as the elf, weeks after giving birth to my son. The matching dresses were made by my mother-in-law. Don’t ask my youngest daughter about having to wear those hand-me-downs for years. I was President of the group that year…with four children. To be that young and energetic again…Here they are a few years later, towards the end of our Santa picture years. How in the world did I ever get the four of them that scrubbed up for a picture? So the years went by and those children grew up and started families of their own. Our first three grandsons were born the same year, all within 8 months. This was in 1997… And those little families grew and had Santa pictures of their own…And these children grew older and then their cousin came along…And she is the last of this generation to visit Santa.

We measure our lives in so many ways, counting the years through as many memories as we can. Photos like this are a mirror of the years, the generations, and the commitment to making more memories for those we love. No matter what your beliefs, I’m sure there are special events to record. It’s nice to be able to look back and take it all in, put it in the perspective of Santa visits for this particular memory thread in the ever-weaving pattern of my life.

Cheers to more generations to come, adding their own memories and love.

Tags Santa visits

Categories Family, Holidays, Memories, Photography, Reflections

My Thanksgivings

November 27, 2014 //

There is no formula to my family Thanksgivings except for family, food and love. The traditions have evolved through the years and change all the time as we lose and gain family members. You learn to keep it loose and fun, being thankful for the chance to even plan whatever you’re doing.

When I was little, we drove to my grandparents home in Oklahoma City to have dinner with my aunts and uncles and cousins. My father and grandfather would go quail hunting in the early morning while dinner was being prepared. The hunting goes back to Kentucky where both of them were born. My grandfather and his brothers always had dogs and hunted, bringing home all kinds of game for the family to enjoy. Those Kentucky burgoos were born of those Kentuckians hunting long ago.

As my generation of the family grew up, one of my cousins married a man who lived in Chandler, hunted and had property for the hunting. My husband learned to hunt from my father, growing to share his love of working the dogs and walking the fields in the early mornings and later in the afternoons of fall, bringing home the birds for delicious dinners later.

For several years, the Tulsa relatives met the Oklahoma City relatives in Chandler, repeating the routine of hunting in the morning and then dinner. Football in the afternoon was added about that time and our family continued to grow and add to the memories.

I forgot to mention the awkward years when we were first married and tried to go to both family Thanksgiving dinners, coming home exhausted and way too full. We all make that mistake when living in the same city. You can’t please everyone. You just can’t.

At some point, there were moves and changes and the families stayed in their own cities, each gathering their own on the holiday. At our house, the routine was pretty much the same with us going to my parents. My in-laws had moved out of town, so we spent some holidays with them. When home, the hunting, food, football tradition continued. We had added the tradition of walking to nearby Utica Square for the Lights On celebration in the evening, a good way to work off the big meal.

Through the years, we’ve lost all our hunters, adjusted to some family members going different ways, sometimes go to a movie on Thanksgiving night, added recipes, kept the ones we like, still set the table with our best crystal and china and silver, even though we come dressed casually. The grandkids play football or hang out, the adults sit back, and we all get lazy.

For the past decades, Thanksgiving was one of my favorite holidays. Even when I was working, I loved cooking all the dishes I only made once or twice a year. I had my routine compressed so it wasn’t too exhausting and I loved the early morning, alone in the kitchen getting everything ready for the kids to come over. It was a comforting time of year where I could count my blessings quietly.

Today, I’m thankful for my healthy, happy family. We’re about to change as the grandkids start leaving for college and there will be new members added and our family will begin to grow again in the not too distant future. I’m so grateful to be here to see it all.

In our family, the traditions are family, food and love. What else do you need for a great holiday?

Tags Thanksgiving

Categories Family, Holidays, Memories, Reflections

It runs in the family…

November 21, 2014 //

The little girl clung to her daddy, standing beside him in the pew, looking at the people behind her and trying to be as good as she could be. I wasn’t sure who she belonged to, but I recognized the family genes. I had seen smidgens of that face in my childhood in what turned out to be her great-aunt, a friend of mine since we were three. I had to smile, which you do a lot of as you get older and are watching generations grow up in front of you.

When I was a little girl, I looked mostly like my father. I adored him, so that was ok with me. As I grow older, there are more of my mother’s genes showing through, so I carry looks and other traits from both of them. Babies may look like one parent some of the time and then the other as they grow up. Nature’s way.

People have always known that things “run in the family,” things like eye or hair color, artistic abilities or even mental illness. Even a little bit of craziness has been traced to the genes. And there are genetic predispositions to illnesses that we learn about every day.

I’m fascinated with the way nature distributes those little bits of DNA so that every birth is a mystery as to which traits, good or bad, will be passed down. As the mother of four, it was a treat and a terror to watch myself and my husband being recreated in so many diverse ways. Each child was so different and, yet, to this day people know what family they were born into.

How much is nature and how much is nurture as to personality traits? Does that wacky sense of humor come at birth or is it born from being around someone funny? I watch my friends with adopted children who assume some of their parents’ personalities, so some of it has to be the environment. That’s another whole discussion.

In my family, I have a daughter who looks like she could be her cousin’s sister. The same thing is true with my grandchildren. My son’s daughter and my daughter’s son look like siblings. Even his friends have noticed. That pervasive gene pool strikes again.

This whole observation brings me to the wonder of seeing my children as adults and their children as young adults and looking back at family photos of my grandparents and their siblings and catching a facial expression or something you aren’t even looking for and seeing how it has survived to the next generations. There’s no control over it. It’s a magical connection that just happens.

The joy can be when you see an expression on a face or turn of a head and there’s a spark of memory of a loved one lost. It can be jolting as you recognize the bits of each of us running through the family. It can be comforting when you see that loved one living on in a small way.

Those twisting DNA particles…where will they end up next?

Tags DNA, family

Categories Family, Reflections

Mimi goes to Comic Con

November 10, 2014 //

Going to a Comic Con wasn’t on my bucket list, but you do a lot of things for your grandkids that you wouldn’t ordinarily do. That, plus the fact that a friend of mine, Scott Wilson, was appearing as one of the guest stars when Wizard World Comic Con came to Tulsa. And, I was naturally curious about a phenomenon that has grown from a comic book convention to a group of Trekkies and Star Wars fans to a show that highlights a whole pop culture world of comic books, graphic novels, movies and television shows. These things are huge. The Comic Con in San Diego draws A-list stars. There had to be something to it. Right?

There aren’t so many grandparents there because it’s noisy, you walk a lot on hard floors, the crowds are big, and other things that make it not as attractive once you’re older and more curmudgeonly. But, there are people of all ages. It’s a diverse crowd because there is a universality to costumed characters that transcends race, gender, sexual orientation, income levels, age.

I also learned a new word…cosplay. That’s short for costume play. There were signs saying that you needed to ask before taking photos of cosplayers. That amused me because I guarantee that the majority who spend hours and dollars on elaborate costumes are there to have their pictures taken. This guy strutted around all day, posing with anyone who asked. I have no idea who the character is, but his costume is cool. If you go to a Comic Con, take lots of money. There are booths with everything you want in this fantasy world. There are toys and action figures. I loved this little girl in her fancy Robin costume picking out a toy.There are swords and other props, and, yes, the swords are real metal. Wow! These guys are armed for any kind of invasion or apocalypse There are helmets and hats And beautiful masks crafted of leather and t-shirts and huge tote bags to carry all your purchases This father showing his kids the incredible light sabers amused me. The father probably grew up with Star Wars and is passing it down to his sons. I saw people playing with the light sabers they bought at costs of $200, $300, and $400 and up. They were definitely cool.And, of course, there are comic books and graphic art of all kinds…Meeting celebrities is another plus. The Tulsa World featured a piece of custom art for the Tulsa show created by this artist who was selling prints of his other work. You could meet Lou Ferrigno of The Incredible Hulk, as my grandson did. Here is Robert Englund, who played Freddie Krueger in the Nightmare on Elm Street movies, strapping on his sword-like hands for a picture with a fan. I watched a little boy wearing a mock hand and Freddie Krueger hat gasping in awe as he watched him. There were lots more stars from shows and movies from William Shatner from Star Trek, to stars from Ghostbusters, The Karate Kid, Superman, Harry Potter, and others I didn’t know. There were question and answer panels that drew thousands of fans. My friend, Scott Wilson, has a long career in films and became a Comic Con star playing Hershel Greene in the Walking Dead series. The four actors from that show who came to Tulsa were by far the stars of the show, with Norman Reedus, who plays the crossbow wielding anti-hero Darryl, being the rock star. Their lines were continuous. I have to say that Scott goes above and beyond with his fans, giving them all hugs and personal conversations. He is a gentleman and a jewel in my book. Here he’s wearing the t-shirt featuring Tulsa’s iconic Golden Driller that I gave him when he got to town.He also stayed an extra hour to give free autographs and pictures to the show’s volunteers at the end of a grueling weekend of activities. Comic Con has the reputation among the non-believers of being only for nerds. Well, maybe, but this is where these fans can meet their peeps and mingle for a delightful weekend. After all, I’ve been to Renaissance Fairs and re-enactments and the Scottish Games and October Fests which are not much different. It’s all a festival where adults can remember what it’s like to be a child again. Comic Con is a place where families can play – or cosplay – together. Here’s a family with oddly colored children. Couples can fantasize about whatever or whoever they enjoy being… Children can meet their action toys in person. And grown men can bring the Oklahoma Ghostbusters out to play. Some of you are rolling your eyes that people actually do this, but it’s really great fun to watch people enjoy themselves in whatever fantasy they choose. There was an atmosphere of camaraderie and festivity for all who attended. I got a huge kick out of watching it. Way more than I thought I would. As my little friend, R2D2, said to the crowd…Beep! Beep!My own memories flash. How many Star Wars figures did I pick up off the floor when my son was little? Why did my mother throw out all my brother’s comic books? Who knew?

Tags Comic Con, Scott Wilson, The Walking Dead, Tulsa, Wizard World Comic Con

Categories Entertainment, Events, Family, Reflections, Style

Teaching an old dog…

November 6, 2014 //

It’s amusing to me how excited I can get over learning something new, even the simplest thing. Approaching 69 quickly, I work to keep my brain power as sharp as possible by playing games that make me think, reading, getting outside, and hanging out with people as much as I can.

Watching the students, all 21 or older, whom I am working with this year, use their computers is inspiring. The first computers I was around were in a math lab at the elementary school my children attended. They were simple machines that were used in a lab for the students to do math. I remember that the screens were black and the numbers were white – I think. Anyway, I decided that if kindergartners could do this, so could I, and I embraced the computer age.

What amazing changes there have been since that time, probably 40 years ago. Shoot, there are amazing changes every year, month, week, and day now. What you thought you knew is updated so quickly. People grumble and curse the new ways, but I’ve found that most of them are pretty spectacular.

Today, I taught myself how to do something on the computer, something so simple that I won’t give details because I wouldn’t be surprised if my 5 year old granddaughter could have taught it to me. I was beaming to myself with pride at learning this skill that my students assumed I knew. It takes so very little to make me proud of myself these days.

Oh well, onward we march. Now I’m going to concentrate on getting the rest of my body as sharp as my brain. It’s going to take the whole package of me, brains and body, to conquer this latest challenge of approaching the truly elderly ages with more than a sigh and resignation. After all, I’ve sworn to keep up with my grandkids for as long as possible. By keeping up, I mean being able to do active things with them, even if I can’t possibly move as fast as they do. At least my brain is up to the challenge…so far. Sigh…

Tags old age.

Categories Family, Reflections

The Importance of the Pumpkin Patch

October 20, 2014 //

My husband was a man, a big kid actually, who loved Halloween and everything about it. Every fall, we drove out into the country, when it didn’t take so long to find the bare countryside, to look for the perfect pumpkins. Everybody had to have their own, with his being the biggest one. This was one of those holidays when I was along for the ride because I wasn’t good at making costumes and he was in charge of the carving and I just made popcorn balls and caramel apples and handed out the treats on the big night while he walked the streets with the kids and other fathers in the neighborhood.

We didn’t take as many photos in those days of film and flashbulbs, but I treasure the ones I have, especially now that my husband and son are both gone. I’m pretty sure they have pumpkins in heaven however. No doubt in my mind that they are getting ready for the big night in whatever afterlife they inhabit. By the time our grandchildren were born, the pumpkin patch had expanded with animals and rides and photo ops galore. Taking the grandkids to the patch was a way to keep my own kids’ memories alive and well. So there are lots of pictures of these kids, now in high school, getting their pumpkins, just as their parents did.

And their parents take pictures that are part of the family tradition, the things that remind us of the best of times and hold us together in all times. All my grandchildren are in middle school or high school now, except for the youngest, my son’s daughter. He went to the patch with his nephews and niece when he was in college…And took his own daughter for her first visit, his last before he died. She gets to go back now, following family traditions, making her own. They say that all we can really give our children are memories, and these are some of the best. These days I look at my family and go back to look at the years that have done by way too quickly and I’m strengthened by the continuity of the traditions and the love I see in the photos. The Pumpkin Patch is important in our family, but so are other traditions. We can all make our own…and should.