Same Time Next Year

I am forever indebted to whoever created/invented the internet, Facebook and any other source of media that was used to help me find my old friends.  And by old, I mean those girls I went to high school with.  Because something pretty awesome has happened.  A couple of years ago when I made my way back to my hometown for a visit I was able to track down a few of my high school friends and get together for coffee.  Then last year when I went back home for a visit, our little group multiplied and 20 of us or so met for lunch.  This year?  Well, this year was something else entirely.  This year as we were "talking" back and forth via our very own Facebook group page (that was set up for our graduating class) I let everyone know that I was coming into town.   And like my last visit I wanted to meet as many as possible for lunch.  As it turned out, lots more than we anticipated wanted to join in the festivities, so one of our most gracious friends (who just happened to be visiting from Australia no less) and her mom invited all over to their house.  There were over 30 of us that ended up attending that day and boy, did we have fun.  So, this is my rendition of our time together on that very special day--my thoughts, emotions, feelings, etc.  It's a little scattered, like me.  But also, full of heart, like me.  Here goes nothing...

When did I grow up?  That's what I'd like to know.  How did I go from being just 17 years old to being (almost) 57 years old?  And what happened in-between?  I've got a lot of questions, that's for sure.  Lots and lots of questions.  They never stop actually.  My mind keeps whirling around until I am dizzy with questions.  Where have the last 40 years of me gone?  I had a life somewhere in there.  40 years of college, children, grandchildren, working, moving, houses, dogs, trips, you name it.  And yet, just how important were those things in shaping whom I've become today?  And what about before that?  What about my high school days?  How did those years shape whom I've become today?  I have so many deep thoughts--I told you so.

When we finally all got together that beautiful summer day I walked in fully loaded with questions just like those previously mentioned.  I wanted to know everything about all of them.  I wanted to know about their in-between lives.  Those years in between graduation and now--all 39 years of the in-between years.  I came armed with questions--are you married, do you have children, how about grandchildren?  Where do you live, what do you do, do you own a dog?  Yep, those were the questions I thought I wanted answers to.  However, from the minute I saw their smiles, all those questions faded into the background.  Not because I didn't care, no, that wasn't it at all.  It's just that when I saw them, I had a chance to actually see them.  The real them, the high school them.  The them without the stuff.  I looked into their eyes, and whether they were sad, broken, or happy-- for just those few short hours, I think we had decided to be the real us.  The 17-year-old girls from way back in the day.  The girls I knew, whom I had lunch with, talked with, had a class with, played sports with (OK, maybe not so much sports) but you get the gist.  We knew each other.  The real us.  Without fancy cars, big houses, jewelry, hot husbands (well, mine is) college degrees or major accomplishments.  We were all there and we were real.  We were the same.  Yes, that's it.  We were the same.  I didn't even have to close my eyes and imagine it.  Because for all the years that have passed and for all the time that has gone by--we looked and acted just the same to me.  I thought it would take time if it even happened at all.  I thought there would have to be a take a deep breath and relax time, a getting to know you again time, a can I trust you time.  But no, there was none of that.  We all just fell into a I already know you, I already feel comfortable around you and an I can't wait to talk with you again time.  Yes, that's exactly what we did, and I am so thankful.

I guess I didn't know what to expect.  So, as is my habit I hid once again, behind my camera.  I was afraid.  Would they like me?  Had I changed?  I was told I used to be quiet.  Really?  Me?  Quiet?  So, what were they expecting from me?  How should I act?  And as always, can my camera hide me until I am ready to be exposed?  I wondered--would they think I'd aged terribly?  What about my fat stomach, or saggy skin, or droopy eyes?  Don't laugh!  I was nervous!  I hadn't seen some of them in years!  And I do mean years.  So, I did what I usually do--I took pictures, all the while laughing and cracking jokes--which, however, is the real me.  We all wore name badges because face it, some of us had changed.  A lot.  However, I received something quite different from what I had anticipated.  What I got instead from those girls were complete and total love, acceptance and genuine friendship.  To the extent that I was mentally transported back in time to our senior year of high school.  I pictured us sitting on our senior lawn at school--eating lunch, hanging out, talking, and laughing, with our skirts hiked up tanning our legs.  We looked good back then, we look good now too.  I know this because of the looks on their faces.  We never stopped smiling or laughing or talking for a minute.  And I'll bet you anything if given half a chance we would have stayed until midnight.  Just catching up, just being there for each other, just listening.  And with me, just taking pictures.  Maybe it's just another way of me journaling what I see and feel.  As I look at the pictures I took that day, I see a beauty in the faces of my old friends that I once saw many years ago.

Yes, we've all changed, we've grown up, we've accomplished much.  And yet, we are all just the same as we were way back then.  And you know what?  I'm relieved.  I'm no longer nervous.  I'm no longer afraid that they won't like the real me or what I've become over the years.  Why?  Because on that one afternoon, we became friends all over again.  New friends, who were once old friends.  I'm closer to all of them now.  My high school friends.  The girls who in my mind are just as fun and beautiful as ever.

Out on the patio with some of my old high school friends

Hugs all around

Group shot

So much laughter

Looking at old pictures

Next year will be our 40th high school reunion.  40 years!  It's hard to imagine.  So much has happened to all of us in the last 40 years.  And yet, I know that when we are all together again, it will be like time has stood still.  We will laugh, and we will cry.  We will remember those who are no longer with us.  We will remember the good times and choose to lay aside the bad.  And we will be all be together again--same time next year.

Roadmap

I forgot my cell phone the other day.  We were on our way for a fun filled Father's Day extravaganza day (that's what we call special holidays) of shopping, food, and fun.  And there I was about 10 minutes from home when I suddenly realized that I had left my phone sitting on the counter.  My husband immediately turned the car around saying, you would not have a good day without your phone, so let's go get it.  I felt terrible, going all the way back home just to retrieve a phone?  It seemed crazy to me, however, he was right, I wouldn't have a had a good day at all.  That little cell phone is my only connection to my children, grandchildren, and friends.  We have no land line, no home phone, no voice mail, no way for others to get in touch with us in the case of an emergency.  So yes, it was important to go all the way back home and get my phone and then let the day start all over.

In the mean time, I wondered about what might have laid ahead of us had I remembered my phone.  Yes, this is the way my silly brain works.  What if...what if I had remembered my phone and we had been on our way.  Our way to what?  That's what I think about.  Yes, we had a plan.  We were headed somewhere.  We had a time, a place, a destination.  However, what if our destination was different from God's?  What if He used that I forgot my phone opportunity to change our destiny?  What if...

And that's where road maps come into play.  You know, road maps.  The kind that the Bible talks about.  
It says in Jeremiah 29:11--For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.
And in Psalms 37:23 where it says--The Lord directs the steps of the godly.  He delights in every detail of their lives.  

I gave my heart to Him 50 years ago.  Therefore these 2 verses, in particular, belong to me and anyone else who claims to be a Christian.  Don't they?  So, if He has plans for me, and if He directs my steps, then who am I to get upset or complain when things don't go my way?  Maybe He has a map that He hasn't shown me.  Maybe He has a plan that He hasn't discussed with me.  Maybe just maybe, I should sit back and let Him guide me.  It's what I do--most of the time.  I try not to get upset when I hit heavy traffic, I try not to get mad when others are late to an event, I try not to come unglued when plans fall through.  Please notice the I try part.  I do try--really hard.  Because I truly believe that God has complete control over my life.  I also truly believe that many times I fall so short of total trust in Him.  Sometimes I want to grab that map right out of His hands and say--let me take a look at that map, there just might be a better way!  Wow, really?  There just might be a faster, better, different way?  I seriously doubt it.  And also, I really seriously doubt that my ways are better than His ways.  Why, oh why then do I get so upset when...fill in the blank.  Why do I get so upset when I don't get my way, when I don't get to live where I want to when I don't get to control certain situations when I don't get to protect those I love, when, when, when....why?

I guess if I understood the what, whys, and wheres of each situation in my life I wouldn't need God.  But, the fact is I do need Him.  I can't see what is on the road ahead of me.  I need Him.  He's holding that roadmap and leading me along--steadily, strongly, safely, and lovingly.  He's got that road map memorized.  And if it were left up to me?  Well, who knows where I'd end up.  So, I'll make sure that I keep my hands off my road map, I'll make sure that I look to God for guidance and direction.  I'll trust Him, and sit back and enjoy the ride.  Because God also says that--my ways are not your ways.  And I am very grateful for that.  His ways are not my ways, His ways are better than my ways.  And to me, that is the most comforting feeling of all.  I want to live His way.  And if I forget my cell phone again, or being caught in traffic, or have to move again, or whatever it is big or small that He has planned for me, well, that's OK with me.  It makes life just that more exciting, and also restful at the same time.  Yes, that's it, it's restful.  I can go to sleep at night knowing that whatever tomorrow holds--it's going to be held in the very palm of God's hand.

I Remember Too

I wondered...will she remember this time?  No, of course not, I told myself.   She's far too little, far too young--and soon I'll be far far away.

I wondered as I sat there rocking her, singing to her, reading her little stories from her tiny little books--will she remember any of this?  Will she remember going to lunch with my friends, shopping at the mall, riding in grandma's car?  Will she remember the songs I sang, our fun little dance, my patting her back as she fell asleep for her afternoon naps?  Will she remember my smell or my voice?  And if there are any memories at all, what will they be?  These are the things I wondered about, as our car rolled out of our driveway for the very last time.

During the first year of my youngest granddaughter's life, I had the privilege of babysitting her.  Her mother went back to work part time, and I readily volunteered to watch her.  At 8:30 in the morning 3 days a week my doorbell would ring and there she'd be.  All snuggled in her little infant carrier dressed so cute.  I'd have her all day until 4:30.  And boy, did we have fun.  I took her everywhere.  Target, the mall, my friend's homes, grocery shopping, restaurants, you name it, we went there together.  The big joke was that she'd gone to more fancy restaurants than her parents.

There were also many days that we'd just stay home.  After all, grandma did have a house to clean and laundry to do.  She would sit there in her little chair, eyes following my every move.  We'd sing songs, do puzzles and play peek-a-boo.  I tried to make our boring household chores as much fun as possible.  Although I always figured I could get a lot done during her nap time, so most of the time we just plain had fun.

At the end of that first year, two things coincided--my husband was offered a job in another state and my daughter-in-law became pregnant with her second child.  That was a dark day for me.  Wait, let me explain.  I knew that within just a few short months my world was going to change.  We were going to be moving away and also my daughter-in-law was going to quit her job--which meant that I was going to be separated from my little granddaughter.  Now, I've done this before.  I hated it then and I knew that I was going to hate it this time too.  I was going to experience pain, heartache, great sadness, and depression.  They would be the same emotions I felt when my daughter moved overseas and then again to California, taking my grandson with her.  Sometimes I wonder (only to myself of course) if these children of mine know how incredibly hard that is for a grandmother to endure.  We (the grandmas) experience separation anxiety from being torn away from our grandchildren.  And they (the children) seem to do this at will.  But, I digress.

This story really is about something wonderful that happened the other day.  It's a true story.  However, let me preface it with this--I'm not so sure I really believe it.  So, you be the judge, I'm just telling you what happened.  And know this, I will cherish what happened all my days.

This last weekend was my youngest grandson's first birthday.  It was outside at a park with lots of friends, family, and food.  My daughter-in-law did a great job--there were balloons, a cute cake, decorations, the whole thing.  So, a couple of hours into the party, after the food, cake, and gifts, my little granddaughter and I were walking around talking to people when we came upon one of my kid's friends who'd recently had a baby of her own.  He was just a tiny little thing and was 2 months old.  He was sleeping peacefully in his little carrier.  My granddaughter (who is now 3 years old) looked at him and then up at me and said, Grandma, bremember when you used to carry me around in one of those fangs?  It's important for me to spell her words just the way she said them--she's so cute.  Anyway, I looked down at her and smiled and said, yes, I do, but how do you remember, you were very little back then?  However, she assured me that she did indeed bremember.  So, I said OK.


And then, just about an hour later as the party was winding down, I was sitting on a picnic bench in the shade.  She spotted me and came running over.  She crawled up on my lap all hot, sweating and tired and asked me to sing to her, just like I used to.  I asked her, what did I use to sing?  And she said, bremember, you would rock me in the chair and sing me songs, all the time.   My eyes began to fill up a bit with grandma tears, and I said, you mean like Jesus loves me and This little light of mine?  And she said, yes and the other one too.  Yes, I remembered the other one.  I will never forget it.  You see after I found out that I'd be moving away, I'd sing to her, You are my sunshine while fighting back tears.  Yes, I bremembered, and I'll never forget.  Not ever.  So there we sat, rocking slowly back and forth in the warm summer shade sitting on a picnic bench, while I hummed You are my sunshine.  No, I'll never forget, not ever.

For the rest of my life, I'll remember that day in the park.  The day my youngest grandson turned 1, and the day my little 3-year-old granddaughter said that she remembered--that a long time ago, Grandma used to rock her and sing to her and carry her around in her little infant seat.  And whether she really and truly remembers or not, she'll be able to one day read this little story about a specific time in her life, a time that her grandma remembers enough for the both of them.

Grandma's do count.  We really do.  We make an impression that lives on in the sub-conscience hearts and minds of our grandchildren.  Those simple little things that we do, they matter.  I have thus far been blessed with 5 grandchildren, and I hope before it's all said and done, maybe, just maybe I'll be blessed with a few more. And maybe, just maybe I'll get to sing to them too.  For they really are my sunshine.  They really truly are.

My granddaughter and her dog

Let's play chase grandma!

Robins Nest

I had two of them.  Two little nests, one tucked in between the branches of my tree in the front yard and another built high above in the crook of a gutter spout near my back patio.  Two nests, each with a mommy robin and two eggs.  I took pictures of them while standing out of sight with my telephoto lens.  I was hoping to stay far enough back so as not to scare them.  Once though while in my breakfast nook, she saw me and flew across to the neighboring tree.  She gave me the evil eye as if to say--stay away from my babies.  I was very careful after that.  It wasn't my intention to cause her any anxiety, I was just curious.  I had never before been that close to a nest, let alone one with real baby chicks still hidden away safe inside.

It kind of felt like I had a secret.  A little family of birds all my own.  I felt protective of them--always making sure that they were all right.  I worried when it was too hot and the sun was beating down on them.  I worried when it was cold and windy, with the mommy robin's feathers blowing fiercely in the wind.  And then one day the horrible of horribles happened.  We had a storm, and one of the nests was blown out of the tree into my front yard.  The only evidence--tiny little feathers scattered on my front porch.  I'm not ashamed to admit that I cried--just a little.  I was heartsick.  The incident made me all that more protective of my remaining nest and little chicks.

I was truly blessed one morning.  I got to see it.  Experience it with my own eyes for the first time in my life.  I woke up, and as was my habit, I went to the window.  There perched on the side of its nest was one of the babies.  He looked straight ahead at his mother who was about 10 feet across from him, and in one swift motion flew--he landed on the closest branch, his mother not far away.  I felt the intake of my breath as I literally gasped out loud.  It was beautiful to see.  I waited for a long time, I wanted to see what would happen next, but after several minutes realized that most likely he was going to stay on his safe little branch for a while.  He sat calling out to her, but she was waiting, teaching, being a mom.

They are gone now--mommy and baby.  I wonder--who will come back next year?  Where will the new nests be built?  I'm looking forward to watching and waiting and discovering, I love birds.  Always have.

I guess in some ways I feel like that mommy bird.  I watched her prepare, build her home, make it safe.  And in a moment...the nests are empty.  My chicks flew away a few years ago.  They tested their wings and then, in a breath of time, they were gone.  Yes, I think I feel her pain, for it happened to me too.

Mommy Robin

Feeding her babies

Watching protectively

                                                             

Baby bird