Alabaster Community Garden in Pictures and Quotes

May 14, 2013 · Filed under and Quotes, In My Community, Quips, Uncategorized · Tagged , , , ,

A garden is a grand teacher. It teaches patience and careful watchfulness; it teaches industry and thrift; above all it teaches entire trust. -Gertrude Jekyl

A garden is a grand teacher. It teaches patience and careful watchfulness; it teaches industry and thrift; above all it teaches entire trust. -Gertrude Jekyl

Don't judge each day by the harvest you reap but by the seeds that you plant.-Robert Louis Steveson

Don’t judge each day by the harvest you reap but by the seeds that you plant.-Robert Louis Steveson

“Education is a natural process carried out by the child and is not acquired by listening to words but by experiences in the environment.”- Maria Montessori

“Education is a natural process carried out by the child and is not acquired by listening to words but by experiences in the environment.”- Maria Montessori

In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt.- Margaret Atwood

In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt.- Margaret Atwood

This cabbage, these carrots, these potatoes, these onions ... will soon become me. Such a tasty fact!- M. Garofalo

This cabbage, these carrots, these potatoes, these onions … will soon become me. Such a tasty fact!- M. Garofalo

We must cultivate our own garden. When man was put in the garden of Eden he was put there so that he should work, which proves that man was not born to rest.-Voltaire

We must cultivate our own garden. When man was put in the garden of Eden he was put there so that he should work, which proves that man was not born to rest.-Voltaire

“The many great gardens of the world, of literature and poetry, of painting and music, of religion and architecture, all make the point as clear as possible: The soul cannot thrive in the absence of a garden. If you don't want paradise, you are not human; and if you are not human, you don't have a soul.” Thomas More

“The many great gardens of the world, of literature and poetry, of painting and music, of religion and architecture, all make the point as clear as possible: The soul cannot thrive in the absence of a garden. If you don’t want paradise, you are not human; and if you are not human, you don’t have a soul.” Thomas More

“God made a beauteous garden With lovely flowers strown, But one straight, narrow pathway That was not overgrown. And to this beauteous garden He brought mankind to live, And said "To you, my children, These lovely flowers I give. Prune ye my vines and fig trees, With care my flowers tend, But keep the pathway open Your home is at the end." Robert Frost

“God made a beauteous garden
With lovely flowers strown,
But one straight, narrow pathway
That was not overgrown.
And to this beauteous garden
He brought mankind to live,
And said “To you, my children,
These lovely flowers I give.
Prune ye my vines and fig trees,
With care my flowers tend,
But keep the pathway open
Your home is at the end.” Robert Frost

In search of my mother's garden, I found my own.- Alice Walker

In search of my mother’s garden, I found my own.- Alice Walker

I grow plants for many reasons: to please my eye or to please my soul, to challenge the elements or to challenge my patience, for novelty or for nostalgia, but mostly for the joy in seeing them grow. David Hobson

I grow plants for many reasons: to please my eye or to please my soul, to challenge the elements or to challenge my patience, for novelty or for nostalgia, but mostly for the joy in seeing them grow. David Hobson

Dedicated to the members of the Alabaster Community Garden.  To learn more about the Alabaster Community Garden, visit the Alabaster Community Garden Facebook Page or write AlabasterCommunityGarden@gmail.com

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The “Step” Tribute: Why Mother’s Day is special to me because of the steps I take in life…

May 12, 2013 · Filed under In My Humble Opinion · Tagged , , , ,

I don’t remember the day I met my stepmother, Charlotte. I was only two.  I don’t remember ever not knowing her  as a part of my life and that has been a blessing unto itself.

What I do know is that my father had a broken heart when they met. He, like most, had made decisions along the way in life and regret was something he and I talked about before he died. He said to me one day, “Don’t live a life of regret, Nanci, sometimes you have to be tough and take the bull by the horns.”  I was sixteen at the time and I just thought he was crazy. I have lived that motto most of my life now. His sister, my Aunt Patsy, would remind me often of that before her death. His decisions in life had included two previous marriages, a son he did not get to see often, and a lifestyle of health related issues that caused him much physical pain. But he loved me, completely and entirely, and he fell in love with a lady that would change my world and his course of life.

Her name is Charlotte.

Charlotte became my mother by marriage, but it was only later in life that we had formed a much stronger bond than I ever realized until my own children arrived.  You see, my children have taught me that unconditional love is a given when you are a mom, but Charlotte taught me that you can chose to love deeply, as if the other person is not a part of you at all, by blood or marriage or otherwise.  She chose to love a man who was not perfect and came with plenty of challenges but she also chose to love me, even if I was not willing to love her back.

I am not a stepmom, but in this day and age, I don’t know very many people who are not in a position of being a “step” something. Where did “step” come from anyway?

Technically, the phrase step (mother, father, sister, etc.)  is incorrect, as it originally was only meant for children  meaning you could have a step-son or step-daughter. The origin is from Old English via German, the word steop, which meant orphan. So the term step-parent is only by association, which evolved in modern times due to to the increase in divorce. (Source: English Historian Robert Somerset)

I redefined it to fit my needs. My stepmom was only a step away from me when I needed extra encouragement or love. When I hit my confusing teenage years, my stepmom was only a step away from offering respite to my tired single mom. She was only a step away when I needed to turn around in my path and question my choices in life. She was only a step away when I had to say goodbye to my biological father in 1991, and then again when I said goodbye to my biological mother last year.

The funny thing is, she stood solid, never moving, swaying, or inching in step. It was me that would step away from her and put that step between us.

I’m not saying she represents all step mothers but she certainly represents the best and is the best example to go by. As I write this, there are several of you that come to my mind. I see you lovingly and completely give of yourselves knowing you may considered  by some to be the “second” mom or the “other” mom.

Charlotte never try to over rule my mother on decisions. She never talked inappropriately about my mother or her techniques in child raising. She was fair in her response when I would ask her opinion, but she never forced her opinions or ideas on me.  She never laid the law down with me that my father was her husband and she came first. Looking back on it, she never did because she was so loved by him and me, we wanted her to come first, yet she politely stepped aside to allow us to form a father/daughter bond naturally. I was able to know, respect, and admire my father more because  she uplifted him and it encouraged a better relationship with us. To me, that was a beautiful role as his wife to complement not compete with me.

Abraham Lincoln, one of my political heroes, is credited with saying, “All that I am, or hope to be, I owe to my angel mother.”   No words could ring truer for me. For when the times were rough in my life, it was my angel mother, the mother who chose to love me, the mother who sat quietly behind my accomplishments and my dreams, and gently guided me not as a mother, but as a friend with the love of a mother.

Few people get to have that in life. You are blessed.

If you are a stepmother, you are not always in an easy position, but you are a position to be an influential role in a child’s life. You have the choice to love a child from another woman with your husband. You have the choice to hold your tongue when things are not the way you want them, yet you have no control over it either. You have the choice to be an angel mother, sometimes being in the background, unnoticed, avoided, or being told you are unnecessary by others who you should not give a second thought too.

Step parenting comes with an entirely different list of challenges than the usual role of mother and yet, you can chose to allow respect to over rule your desire to say or act upon a feeling you know may draw negative comments or feelings.

You possess that ability and you also possess the most incredible, unusual form of love to give freely, without reason or cause, just because you can and have the heart to do so.

My beautiful Charlotte lived this and still does. I treasure her.

My life became further blessed by other steps in my life. My biological mother remarried and added my beloved stepfather in my life when I was an adult. I also became the sister to three additional brothers and one sister and their families.  Marriage made us related, but love made us family. And I love each of them regardless of the challenges we go through.

In 2011, my life was even more blessed by the addition of Charlotte’s new husband, someone we proudly call, “Grandpaw” Clayton.  Clayton, a retired Methodist minister, who embodies a soul that is truly reflective of the message of Christ and that is to simply love God first, and love others.  And as if life could not get sweeter, I also received a new “step” brother, Charlie, and “step” sister, Mary Ann, and “step” niece, Melissa.

Each step I have and each step I take reminds me that life is the course I take to get to Heaven and are sweet reminders along the way that I am loved and I can chose to love others.

I love when life changes courses even when I didn’t tell it too!

However you define family, which is clearly up for debate at any table, I define it as those who claim you, even if they don’t want too.

But I have to remember, my life is better because of the steps I climb with family-all of them.

And I would not have had it any other way.

Happy Mother’s Day to all who have had the influence of motherly love in your life.

Charlotte with her great niece namesake, Charlotte.

Charlotte with her great niece namesake, Charlotte.

***This article and blog is copyrighted by the author. However, due to the content, the author is releasing publishing rights to be shared in social media or via print or electronic version, without any content or words being changed.***

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The Foodies Diaries: The Delicious First Week- The Long Version

May 10, 2013 · Filed under The Foodie Diaries, Uncategorized · Tagged , , , ,

What started out as a game, is…well…still a game.

The Rules:

Eating as close to the ground as possible with organics and naturals.

No Fast Food.

Foods from other countries we have never tried.

Foods prepared with unusual cooking methods or techniques.

Foods prepared with unusual ingredients.

NO FAST FOOD!!!!

So without further ado, and without posting a picture a day of food (which would keep me perpetual hungry) here is my week in review.

May 1st

We stopped at the new Publix in Anniston to check out the new setup. We decided to enjoy some lunch while we were there. I made a salad with mixed greens, topped with egg, carrots, peppers, and vinegar/oil. Not fast food and close to the ground with no overly processed foods.

Next stop was the World of Coca Cola. The World of Coca Cola is very processed but it is interesting how this drink has made so much money and so universal. I met people from Japan, Nigeria, China, and Brazil all in the waiting area.  I strongly encourage anyone who visits the sample area to try the “Beverly” from Italy. It will automatically make you NOT want to taste ANYTHING else.  We left there with two kids buzzing on what must be a carbonated high of fizzy sugar. After tasting the Beverly, I had desire to touch anything else. Gag!

That night we went to a restaurant in Alpharetta, Georgia and I ordered steamed greens, boiled squash, and cabbage.  I expected to be starving by bedtime but was so tired, food was the last thing on my mind.

The next day I awoke and was ready to hit the road in search of something unusual.  What’s unusual in Georgia?  Why a cabbage “tree” that gives birth to children.

May 2nd

After grabbing a couple of eggs off the breakfast bar and a cup of oatmeal, we left the hotel and headed north on Ga. 400.

We arrived at The Cabbage Patch BabyLand General Hospital an hour or so later. I had been years ago with my mom and grandmother but it had changed tremendously. However, the one thing that had not changed was the birthing tree. While we were there, Mother Cabbage went in labor and low and behold, gave birth to a girl, “Chloe Crystal.” Sydney immediately went into big sad eyes wanting the newborn but luckily at $199, it was easy to say no.

Mother Cabbage is beginning labor.

Mother Cabbage is beginning labor.

After we left the hospital, we headed around the bend to the unique little village of Helen. There is the part of the game where we get to eat  food we have never eaten before. This was the perfect place for me to try German food, other than the usual brats and knocks.

For a late afternoon lunch we visited Hofer’s of Helen.  Chris and I split the sampler tray aka Schlachtplatte “Hofer” mit Sauerkraut, Bretzenknödel und Bauernbrot or  Bavarian butchers platter, smoked pork chop, assorted sausages, served with mild sauerkraut, pretzel dumpling and Farmers Rye Bread. 

The sauerkraut was awesome and my favorite part. The smoked pork chop was so tender and melt in my mouth. I didn’t really care for the brats or knocks but Sophie enjoyed her brat on a bun.

For dinner, we walked over to the Hogpen Gap Grill. Chris took advantage of the German beer selection and I took advantage of the chance to enjoy a delicious, crispy pork schnitzel and corn souffle while Chris had the German Faire,  which consisted of a variety of german food much like he had experienced earlier. German cuisine is a hearty plate that will stick with you for a while.

True Confession: After visiting the “Cabbage Patch Kids” place, I felt weird eating sauerkraut.

May 3rd: On the road again…

We wake up to a very cold, mountainous air and enjoyed a complementary breakfast, compliments of the Hampton. I had some eggs and a cup of oatmeal (again), while Sophie enjoyed anything that required decorative measures aka waffles, bagels, gravy biscuits, etc.  She also managed to pocket an apple and yogurt for her 2nd breakfast. (Did I mention she is a hobbit?)

We arrived back into Alpharetta after my epiphany that Crate and Barrel was located shortly off  Ga. 400 and I did not have to go into Buckhead to find the perfect tortilla press.  The girls were hungry and just wanted a fun meal so I decided on Fudruckers. No, it’s not fast food, although I did feel like I cheated in the game. I ordered a burger sans the bun and topped the meat with yummy garden bar varieties.  My side order was sweet potato fries but my children managed to covet them. That made me sad.

As we are approaching our “short cut” to avoid downtown Atlanta, the angels started singing, the birds fluttered, or maybe it was the other way around…regardless, we looked up and saw this sign…

My inner zen sang!

My inner zen sang!

I thought Chris was going to cry happy tears. I managed to drive like an Atlanta native and pull over three lanes within 20 feet from the entrance. Sydney gasped. Sophie moaned. I squealed. Chris cheered.

FYI:If you are a foodie or just someone who really likes quirky, fun shopping experiences-GO TO TRADER JOE’S.

We loaded up on organic quinoa, couscous, olive oil, polenta, whole wheat flour, fair trade Peaberry coffee, a fresh lavender plant for me, and a delicious array of Trader Joe’s beer.

You must be from Alabama when you have your dog's picture on your tailgate.

You must be from Alabama when you have your dog’s picture on your tailgate.

We hit the road again and decided to go backwoods Georgia. On a wing and prayer (or three) and a GPS that keep going on and off (imagine that), we managed to find our way back into Alabama (6 hours later). Did you know Piedmont, Alabama plays host to a variety of quirky fun outlets and side road restaurants?

Dinner: Grilled chicken, limas, and greens.

May 4-HOME

It’s FREE COMIC BOOK DAY! I awake to find 1/2 our household gone and the other 1/4 drooling in her bed refusing to wake up. I grab my box of Trader Joe’s Organic Bran Flakes and some skim milk. The day starts out delicious and filling.

Did I mention the day started out around lunch? Therefore, my brunch of bran flakes held me over until dinner.

Chris stops by the local stand and grabs some fresh collards, onions, and peppers.  He sautes this all together, makes some delicious Israeli couscous, adds a touch of cut up pineapple, some oven baked bacon and this is the results:

Heaven in a Bowl

Heaven in a Bowl

To top off my delicious day, I ate three Sea Salt Caramels from Trader Joe’s.

At the end of this day, I had 304 calories left on my 1300 calorie limit.

May 5- CINCO DE MAYO

The day started out with a banana and a trip to FRESHFULLY for some morning yoga.  I felt great despite the rainy feeling in the air.  On the way home, I was starving and stopped at the local stand and grabbed some boiled peanuts.

Cinco De Mayo was a great way to introduce our new tortilla press. Using simple corn masa and water, Chris carefully fried them. They were not as beautiful as the store purchased kind, but they were fresh, very fresh, and unique. The taste was about the same.

We dipped the fresh corn tortillas in tomato-less salsa, something I purchased at Trader Joe’s. It was sweet and spicy all in one. It received the two thumbs up from me.

Tomato-less salsa- Trader Joe's.

Tomato-less salsa- Trader Joe’s.

To complete our Cinco De Mayo experience, we baked Talipia filets, gently seasoned with Mexican spices, grilled onions, grilled variety pepper and stuffed them along with carrot shreds, fresh greens, corn salsa and a touch of cilantro.

Carrots instead of cheese gave it variety and a color.

Carrots instead of cheese gave it variety and a color.

The ending result was this:

105_0353

So far this foodie thing is working for me.

Day 6: Seis De Mayo

For breakfast I had more Trader Joe’s Bran Flakes with skim milk. Lunch consisted of leftover Isreali Couscous, which I must admit, was just as delicious as the first go around.

I had a meeting at Starbucks for business and enjoyed a Mocha Light Frap. This was my first time to drink a Starbucks Frap and it was pretty good and not as loaded with calories like I expected it to be.

We had slow cooked some black eyed peas for dinner, along with a sliver of lean ham for taste, boiled some squash and collards, and ate left over tilipia filets. Chris took the squash, added an egg, some white English cheddar, and bread crumbs to make a yummy casserole.

Dinner: Black Eyed Peas-with a silver of Fergie aka Snap!

Dinner: Black Eyed Peas-with a silver of Fergie aka Snap!

Since we ate dinner early that night, I later had a snack of Trader Joe’s organic banana chips along with a glass of skim milk. 

Day 7: Tuesday was a busy day for me. I am working on strategic plans for Make Good Choices.® and was making or returning phone calls most of the morning and early afternoon. I scooped some lettuce and added some crush tortillas, black beans, and corn salsa with a dollop of sour cream for an instant “taco” salad, minus the taco.

I hustled out the door to beat afternoon traffic so I could have some quiet time before the See Jane Write panel discussion on publishing. The panel was really good and I saw so many people I love to be around so food was not on my mind…

until I was headed home at 8:00pm.   Then all of a sudden I was STARVING!

I stuck to the no fast food rule and opted to go in Earth Fare to check out their food bar. Since it was late, the food bar was already being taken down for cleaning. What to do, what to do… I checked out my options and decided to grab a wedge salad from California Pizza Kitchen.  I drank water with it and sat at the bar and enjoyed watching them make pizza in the fire oven. My dinner cost less than $6 and was so much better than grabbing a burger and eating in the car.

The first week was fun. I tried new foods and overall stuck to the game plan.

Coming up: Week Two…where I eat Red Quinoa for the first time.

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May Days: Random Beauty from Alabaster, Alabama

May 10, 2013 · Filed under In My Community, Outdoor Ponderings, Uncategorized · Tagged , , , , , ,

Located at an undisclosed location in our yard.

Located at an undisclosed location in our yard.

Overhead flight...by Shelby County Airport.

Overhead flight…by Shelby County Airport.

Hidden among the stalks...Limestone Park.Hidden among the stalks…Limestone Park.

Love these little coots...Limestone Park.

Love these little coots…Limestone Park.

Sundown at Wetlands in Alabaster.

Sundown at Wetlands in Alabaster.

Finding beauty among the weeds-Limestone Park.

Finding beauty among the weeds-Limestone Park.

Floating beauties-at Limestone Park.

Floating beauties-at Limestone Park.

Take off! -Limestone Park.

Take off! -Limestone Park.

Look both ways, before you cross the path. -Limestone Park.

Look both ways, before you cross the path. -Limestone Park.

A pause.- Limestone Park.

A pause.- Limestone Park.

Quack, quack! -Limestone Park.

Quack, quack! -Limestone Park.

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The Foodie Diaries: In the beginning…there was a floor, a cold, cold floor.

May 5, 2013 · Filed under The Foodie Diaries · Tagged ,

It started as an out of the world experience, kinda.

One moment I am having a conversation with my boss and a business associate, the next minute I was laying on the floor. Literally! I awoke to sirens and the strange sensation I was no longer dreaming.

I had passed out-stone cold. I had never done that before. Once, when I was pregnant with my first born, I toyed with the feeling during an exceptionally long “Alleluia” chorus during Mass, but managed to sit down without further flutter.  But this time, it hit and I was out like a light on a stone cold floor.

My vitals were seemingly normal. The cause-dehydration plus, I just was not eating well. I was eating a lot of processed food and drive through mess. Don’t get me wrong, I turned away from the Mickey Ds grease burgers long ago, but my addiction to colas and fast-heat ‘em and eat ‘em foods finally caught up with me.

What started as a conversation turned into a game with my hubby and I. I decided for the entire month of May (and hopefully, beyond), we were going to eat as close to the dirt as possible, no fast food at all, and eating food from other countries with different cooking methods, and ingredients that were unusual for us.

This is what I am calling the Foodie Diaries.

In all fairness to the foodie part, I actually want to see if eating this way is truly weight loss beneficial, so for starters, I am posting my starting weight:

Starting Weight 180

So let’s start this party. 31 Days. No Fast Food.

Eating as close to the ground as possible with organics and naturals.

No Fast Food.

Foods from other countries we have never tried.

Foods prepared with unusual cooking methods or techniques.

Foods prepared with unusual ingredients.

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Life and Death Series: Patsy Eileen still stands strong against the Southern winds of change

April 15, 2013 · Filed under Celebrating Life, Life and Death Series · Tagged , , , ,

Oh those breezy Mobile, Alabama nights will make one a dreamer.

I recently visited the beautiful city by the bay and walked among the large magnolias and oaks that lined streets and filled the beautiful downtown parks of Mobile.  One might say those trees had a story or two to tell if you just gave them the time.

It was Saturday, the day before Saint Patrick’s Day, and this Catholic inspired community was ready to celebrate this Catholic inspired holiday. The streets were swollen with bands, floats, firetrucks, and children, all traveling down the lean streets in search of other fellow party goers and people wanting to add to their bead collections.

Photo credit: Scott Waldrep

Photo credit: Scott Waldrep

Who could not help get in the spirit? I may have even taken advantage of a little bead catching and cabbage interception, here and there.

I admit I like to have fun.

But I digress.

This story is not about Mobile, or beads, or even the deranged looking 40-something dance mom walking the streets, no, this is about one of my heroes, my Aunt Patsy.

Patsy Eileen was born 1 of 6 children in rural Tuscaloosa County, Alabama. She was my father’s sister. Aunt Patsy had a wit and charm that was irreplaceable. Her eyes, oh those deep brown eyes, would cut in such a way to make you scared or make you laugh.

Patsy lived in the family homestead and for years, cared for her brother, my uncle Bobby.  He was born physical limitations and is deserving of his own post one day.  Patsy was the caregiver of the family. She never had children of her own nor ever married, but her 10 nieces and nephews were her babies and she loved each of us as if we were her own.

Aunt Patsy and I, Christmas Past

Aunt Patsy and I, Christmas Past

Patsy had a wit and strength about her that could waver storms through life. As I glance at the beautiful Magnolia trees in Mobile, I am reminded of her in so many ways. I think back to the many storms, particularly the hurricanes, that plummeted Mobile and those beautiful southern trees, yet, they all remain, standing as if to bend but not break in the presence of storms. Patsy was like that for me.

She was my confidant. I would call her and talk about everything. She always took time to listen and give gentle guidance and shade from my fears…again, like the strong Magnolia trees, offering shade and comfort to any passerby who needed a break.

Patsy was the type of person who could play host to anyone and everyone. Being the sister of two University of Alabama players had its perks, I would think. That didn’t matter to Patsy. She treated everyone the same-from Coach Bryant and Joe Namath, who would visit the house often, to the door to door salesman, all treated with respect and dignity.

When Patsy passed away in 2007, I was at a complete loss on many levels. The mourning I experienced was catapulted by the sadness that our sweet strong family place was coming to a close. As the nieces and nephews grew, married, and had kids of our own, that small white house in Tuscaloosa County was no longer crowded with larger than life visitors and loud, boisterous gatherings. It was silenced.

As Spring arrived, shortly after her death, her birthday on March 8th approached and I wanted so bad to call her and wish her a happy birthday. It’s those times, after someone you love dies, that seem to hurt the worse. I decided to plant a tree instead. My husband surprised me with a beautiful baby Magnolia that was just a perfect fit in our side yard and had the area to grow to be a protective shade of comfort, just like Patsy was to me.

Just like those beautiful Magnolias in Mobile, Alabama.

What I loved about those Mobile Magnolias was the amount of beads hanging from all different levels. Some looked much, much older than others. Some were impossible to reach and had grown with the tree over time. Decorated and glorious, these tree branches extended out and reminded me of the celebrations of life.

We came home from Mobile this year, a week after Patsy’s birthday. The thought of remembering her in our own tribute tree filled my heart. There was only one thing I could do…

Celebrating Aunt Patsy!

I think we have a new tradition in our family.

I like to think of thoughts as living blossoms borne by the human tree. James Douglas

I like to think of thoughts as living blossoms borne by the human tree. James Douglas

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Life and Death Series: Dear Mom, One Year Later…

April 4, 2013 · Filed under Life and Death Series · Tagged ,

I survived. I take a deep breath and realize. 
I survived.
365 Days later, I am alive. I did survive.
There were days when I didn’t want to get out of bed. The kids would bring their books to my bed and we home schooled with jammies, pillows, and some tears. They were hurting too because Mommy was hurting and they missed Nonnie. 
 

365 Days.

One entire year of holidays.  One entire year of no daily phone calls. No political arguments. No “I love you” or “Call me when you get home.”

To lose a parent, no matter your age, is heartbreaking. Sometimes we can make peace and sometimes we don’t get that chance, whatever your personal situation may be, the aftermath of the death of a parent is a stinging pain.

But I survived. And if you are reading this and have gone through or are going through something similar, you will survive too.

You may not feel like sometimes, but you will.

So for this special day, I want to share an open letter to my Mom, one year after her death.

Dear Mom,

It’s been a year. Each firework on the 4th, each pumpkin glowing in the sun, each Christmas light that twinkled, and then the birthday candles that glowed, oh, those birthday candles, all reminded me of you.

The day you left me, I can remember being exhausted. I wanted to sleep all day. We had talked about the moment when you died in conversations in previous conversations. I never expected it to end the way it did.

We joked about “When I die…” for as long as I remember. You always humored me and said you wanted to be cremated and flushed you down the toilet because it would be cheap.  You will be happy to know, I did not do that. You had a small visitation and graveside service. I made sure you were wearing the beads you were looking at from your hospice bed that were hanging across the room. You know, the jade ones. You had five strands hanging and I selected three to go around your neck and I kept two strands, one for Sydney and one for Sophie, so they could go through life having that connection.

Do you remember those beads? You told the Amedisys Hospice nurse and I, in between your struggled breathing, that those were the jewels in your home in Heaven. You were insistent that Mawmaw was planting flowers for you to come home. I laughed and told the nurse you had been talking crazy like that for a day or two. The kind nurse smiled. She knew. She didn’t laugh, she simply smiled and put her arm around me.

I had been with you the night before. The girls were restless. They clamored in your living room and hallway, knocking over things, and trying to dance and sing. You came in and out of sleep. Your mouth was dry and you had such a hard time talking. Each time I placed the mouth sponge on your tongue, you tried to smile. Before I left you, I took your face in my hands, held it gently, then looked you straight in the eyes and said, “I love you.” You could not speak. You blinked. You were weak. You had a distant gaze in your eyes. I should have know then that you were already packed and ready to leave with the next angel that showed up for you.

When I got the call that it was time, that you were reaching the end, I rushed. I rushed so fast to get to you. I wanted to send you off like so many times you sent me off…to school, or a friend’s house, or to see Daddy in Florida, or other times. You always gave me a hug, a kiss, and told me you loved me. As I got older, I took those goodbyes for granted. “Call me when you get there!” became a burden as I got older.

I miss calling you when I get somewhere.

When I arrived at your bedside, you had just taken your final breath. Your caregiver for that night, Jan, was holding your hand.

I walked up next to you and fell over your body. I could not contain myself. I panicked.  Everything I ever could have said to you, I felt was too late to say.  You appeared to be sleeping. You were still warm.  I could hear the final movements of your physical body come to a stop.

The room felt like it stopped in time. The peace, oh Mom, the peace I felt in that room was Holy. It was overwhelming. My heart hurt it was so powerful and breath taking. It was the sense of pure love. Even in my hurt, I could only feel peace and comfort. I was not alone. We were not alone. If that is but an ounce of God, then Heaven is far beyond what I could ever imagine. It is so much closer than I ever realized.

As others learned of the news, and each of your other children, grandchildren, and friends arrived, I could find little comfort from anyone even though we all hurt together.  We all mourned and felt shock in our different ways. But oh, that peace that filled me, that Holy Spirit that was felt in the room the moment you died, I grasped at that feeling and still do, each day.

It’s been a year since that day.

I’ve learned to breath much deeper now. Once I realized that your phone number no longer worked, I finally accepted that it was time to delete if from my cell phone. I did that just few months ago.

I wear your wedding band everyday. In fact, I don’t leave the house without it. It meant so much to you.

I still talk to you, often, like now with this letter. I have decided that I will keep talking to you even if you never answer back. It was like the few days leading up to your death. I was never quite sure you could hear me or not, but I kept talking anyway. For once, you didn’t debate back with me.  But I miss that.

I love when I see you in my dreams. You are far more glorious and beautiful than I remember you ever looking. My dreams have been so wonderful. Sometimes, when I have a bad day, I look forward to a deep slumber knowing the chances of dreaming of you are so real.

Whatever you are doing, I know it is splendid. What is the face of God like? Have you talked with Jesus? Have you met Moses, Abraham, and Issac? Is Mary as beautiful as the pictures? Have you met people you admired when you were alive? Did Mawmaw, Pawpaw, and Aunt Sis greet you when you arrived?

I probably sound like the little girl you experienced 40 years ago when I was a toddler and wanted to know why the sky was blue or the sun was round. Silly me, a child in a woman’s body now, so curious. Maybe that is why Jesus said become like little children in Matthew 18:3.

Mom, the kids are growing so fast. Sydney looks like you more each day. She has a wickedly funny sense of humor. Sophie keeps me smiling. We talk about you almost daily. Bruiser is doing fine and we are keeping him healthy and happy. He knows he is loved. Even Chris will talk to him now. He likes Chris despite the occasional attempt to bite him.  He sneaks over to Chris and curls up next to him often. He loves Sophie and she loves him.  She reminds him all the time that you wanted him to be loved. I know he misses you.

We had another mild winter. Lots of changes in our house, but something tells me you know all about it. In my heart, I can hear your voice say, “I am so proud of you.”

I am so excited to see you again one day. Heaven no longer seems like a distant shore that is unreachable. I don’t fear it either. Life no longer seems like a chore. Instead, I liken Heaven to the end of an amusement ride, I guess like a roller coaster.  Life has its many ups and downs, yet I know the moment it ends, it will feel exhilarating.

I have learned that solitude is not loneliness. In the quiet, I sense a sacred connection to you, to life, to God.

So, for this first year, I wanted to write and tell you that I survived. It was not without it’s sad moments. Each time I hear of a friend losing their parent, I have to pause and reflect.  Perhaps their journey will be like mine, a sense of renewal of sorts. A sense of realizing that death is not an enemy or thief, but a natural, sad, necessary part of life. I still have to remind myself daily.

But I have your memory until one day and I have my dreams. Then one day,  I will see you in an entirely different light. Then I will know the mystery.

I love you and miss you so,

Your baby, Nanci

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Phoebe misses you too.

Phoebe misses you too.

One of my favorite pics, you could not believe I actually finished school

One of my favorite pictures.  You could not believe I actually finished college.

Bruiser is spoiled rotten. He thinks he is king of the bed.

Bruiser is spoiled rotten. He thinks he is king of the bed.

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