Weather--As I See It

In the past 6 decades of my life (oh gosh, did I just say that?) I have had the privilege of living in 4 different States — 2 of them twice. I'm still assessing whether that's a good or bad thing, and whether I should acknowledge it, but I will. Yes, 4 States. California (2 times), Florida, Ohio (2 times), and Illinois.  So with the knowledge I've gained from my living experiences in these States, I am declaring myself the Seasonal Weather Queen.  At least for the areas that I've lived in.

Let's start with California, since that is where I started. I was born in Northern California and lived there for almost 45 years. Therefore--expert. Wouldn't you agree? I lived predominantly in the valley — hot, dry, and extremely foggy.  Foggy? Yep, I said foggy. Here is how the seasons went down where I lived. January and February--foggy, sweater weather. March--get out the swimsuit.  April through September, wear the suit and sweat because the temperatures are often near 100 degrees or hotter. If I had to determine whether there was a Spring where I grew up, I'd say it was March and April. The flowers bloomed, the grass was green, and the weather was comfortable.
However, by the time May arrived, I was usually in summer hell. And each day it just kept getting hotter. We would make outdoor plans, and I would be panicking on the inside. I hate the heat. By September, I was dreaming and praying for Fall. Autumn in Northern California was October and November. I would wear sweaters and pretend it was cooler--as sweat rolled down the center of my back. Yep, still kind of hot. We'd decorate, though, and bake and think about those cool Fall crisp days--happening somewhere other than where I lived.  The leaves on the trees would turn brown and fall off; there just wasn't any real "color" where I lived. And then there would be Christmas. And it was still warm. Warm enough for our kids to play outside on Christmas Day, warm enough for me to have the windows open because the oven was making the house too hot, warm enough for me to finally give up, throw off my sweater, and replace it with a cooler shirt instead. Seasons in California? Hot and Fog. Yep, just those 2. But that's just my opinion. That's just as I see it.

And then there was Florida. We lived in Ft Lauderdale for 1 year. 1 year too long. Let me be frank, I hate the heat. Throw in humidity, and I am suicidal. Put me in Florida for a year, and you are left with a whacked-out basket case.  No, to be fair, there was 1 month, I think, that I might have liked living in Florida. Maybe. What I do remember is this--it's hot, humid, sticky, rainy (every afternoon at 3:00), and there were the notorious Palmetto bugs, i.e., gigantic beetles!  And by gigantic, I mean some were 3 to 4 inches long, I kid you not. Yep, I hated Florida. I hated that it was so warm that we went to a park on Thanksgiving, to the beach on Christmas Day, and went camping in February. Florida has 1 season--humid. No colors, no mountains, no waves on their ocean. It's a monotone state, and it's just not for me. That's just how I see it.

On to the Midwest.  Oh my, oh my, is it different from California! We moved to Ohio for the first time in 1999.  I can vividly remember landing at the airport with our 3 (almost adult) children. It was freezing--literally. And as we disembarked with teeth chattering, well, let's just say that I'm glad we were in public, or I'm not sure what they (the kids) would have done to me. We had just landed at the beginning of a long Cleveland winter, 6 long months of snow, ice, and wind. I loved it. They hated it. And me. They hated me. This is how Winter shakes down in Cleveland.

November through April is Winter; May and June are Spring; July and August are Summer; and September and October are Fall. You can pretty much set your calendars to this; it was that way the first 11 years that I lived there. Long, cold, snowy Winters, just how I like them, and short Summers, just how I like them. It does get humid sometimes in the summer. But nothing like Florida. Nope, we had glorious fall colors, waterfalls, hiking trails, and even waves on Lake Erie!  Weird, huh? It sort of reminded me at first of Lake Tahoe, meeting up with the Pacific Ocean. Maybe they had a baby and called it Ohio? Maybe?

When we moved to Chicago 5 years ago, we noticed that the winters were shorter, which meant the summers were longer. Bummer. And whether this is true or not, it seemed more humid there. Double bummer. I hate Summer, and I hate humidity. But, I think I have already stated that fact.
So, Winter started in mid-November and lasted through March, then came Spring, which lasted through May. Summer started in June, and it was warm through September, leaving October and part of November for Autumn. Not too bad, if you like longer summers, which I don't. While living there, we did have a couple of mild summers — low humidity, cooler evenings, and boy, did I love that. However, I was in the minority. Even on the news broadcast, the news anchors would complain--where's summer, where's the heat? I'd yell at the TV--go to Florida, you crazy people! I really did yell that.

We are back in Ohio now. And this time it's for keeps. I plan on retiring with my long Winters and short Summers. I love my 100-plus inches of snow every year. I love my crazy weather, my wind, sleet, rain, and drizzle. I don't miss the fog, nor the humidity. I now get my cold Thanksgiving Day mornings, my white Christmas, my fireplace, and also, just a couple of months of warmer weather--not too much, however, but just the way I like it. At least that's the way I see it.

It's interesting to me how the weather affects our moods. Some are happiest in the Winter. Me! And some in the Summer. Everyone else. And that's OK. If we all work together and try hard not to complain too much when it isn't our "season," we might just make it through. After all, it changes. Right?

This Feels Right

I have so many mixed emotions roaring through my little brain right now. It's confusing and yet not. It just feels right. This move of ours. It's hard to explain. On one hand, I am heartbroken and lonely, and I desperately miss my old life. My friends, my house, my neighbors, my church, my book club, my Bible study, etc--my old life. What I used to do and have...I miss. Horribly. To the point of depression. Kind of. Well, more like sadness.

I've been praying about it. A lot. On the other hand, this just plain feels right. As I meet new neighbors, walk new streets, drive through the forests, watch my grandchildren play--it just feels right. And how can one be depressed when it feels right? Right? So, I pray.

I don't deny my feelings, nor do I wallow in them. I do, however, take them out and examine them. I hold them in my hand and then hold them up to God. And he explains things to me very gently. Like — it's okay to be lonely, to miss your friends and your old life. It's okay. He's very understanding of my feelings. He always has been.

However, my heart is happy when I "run into" my grandchildren at lunch or in a store, and they run up to me yelling--Grandma! It just feels right--as though that is how it should have been all along. Living close by, babysitting, watching their sports games, having an impromptu lunch or dinner, yes, all those things should have been happening all along, but they didn't. There was a 5-year interruption. 5 years, 5 long years of separation. And I do wonder why. I think about it quite a bit. Why?    Why 5 years? Why did I have to miss so much? I need to stop thinking about those 5 years. I need to focus on the here and now, but I can't. Those 5 years felt right too, in some strange, weird way, they felt right too. The people I met, friends I made, and places I discovered would never have happened had I not moved away for 5 years. It's a conundrum for sure. It makes my brain hurt.

Being happy and sad at the very same time, being content and yet heartsick, being thankful and yet sometimes sorrowful, these feelings of mine keep me on the verge of tears. At a moment's notice, I can see, smell, or touch something that throws my mind backward into time, and before I know it, I have tears dripping down my cheeks.

There is nothing I can do, not really. I am trying hard to just roll with it. I am settling into this new little house and making it my own. I am making plans with my children and enjoying meeting up with old friends. Yes, this just feels right. Sometimes lately, I forget that I ever moved away, and sometimes, I remember--all at once. And then it's hard again.

As I sit here typing away on my laptop, I am wondering--how do I feel right now, this very minute--how do I feel? I feel good; I am happy, content, thankful, joyful, and grateful. Yes, this just feels right. To have known and loved people from coast to coast, how could that not feel right?
So, my prayer today is one of appreciation. I truly appreciate all that God has done for me, through me, and in me. Yes, this feels right. I am home.

Weddings and Miracles

Yes, I've seen them, I've seen them both. Lots of weddings, and yes, even lots of miracles. Not everyone can say that, at least the miracle part. I can, though. As I've written before, I saw a miracle just last November. A huge miracle, a miracle that not one person can argue with. A fantastic God-sized miracle. And the other night, I witnessed that miracle of getting married.

Aside from my own wedding and those of my children, I think this was the most beautiful wedding I have ever attended. The atmosphere of this particular wedding was different from most.
There was something going on, not electricity, not expectancy, something very different.  Maybe it was a relief. I shall have to ponder this as I write. Maybe by the time I'm done, I'll have it figured out.

A few weeks before the wedding, I received a phone call from the bride asking if I would do the scripture reading. I was stunned. And honored. And felt completely inadequate. Who was I to be asked to read at this most awesome occasion? I stammered a little over the phone and then, of course, said yes. I remember praying hard after that. I surely did not want to ruin her wedding in any way. And if you know me at all, you know I am not the most coordinated person in the world. Oh no, not me. I am clumsy to a fault. So, pray I did. I asked God for 2 things (that I remember anyway): 1) that I would not cry as I read, and 2) that I would not trip. Neither happened. He heard my prayers.

This wedding took place in a very beautiful vineyard, out in the open, with the bride and groom under an arbor made of driftwood-like branches.  Flowers and ribbon were intertwined, and it, in its simplicity, reminded me of the couple.  As I walked up to take some photos (I was also asked to snap a few landscape pics), I thought of Jacki and Chris — a simple love made so complex by their story of Jacki's miraculous healing. That's what I thought of as I looked at those branches--their lives were braced together by God, so much more than most young couples getting married. Why? Because they had survived the unimaginable--they almost lost each other and had not that miracle occurred, Chris would be alone. And Jacki would be with God. Yes, I believe that Arbor was significant in many ways — at least to me.

The wedding reception took place under a beautiful white tent, decorated with gorgeous flowers that I could not stop photographing — the tables were laden with them. Friends and family sat, talking and smiling, and I'm sure thinking about what could have been. Had not the miracle taken place? I was. I was thinking about it all night. As I saw the looks being passed back and forth between bride and groom, friend to friend, parent to parent...I think we were all thinking about it--all except the bride. For she had no recollection of it at all. She (fortunately) does not remember a thing. She doesn't remember her parents' forlorn faces and tears. She doesn't remember all those who prayed night after night that God would intervene. She does, however, remember the miracle and the look of praise and thankfulness on the faces of all those who love her. She saw it the night of her wedding. We could not hide it. Our faces reflected God's miracle. How could they not? She was standing right before us.

As I got up to read scripture that night, I said I was never surprised by anything God does, but always amazed. Yes, we serve an awesome and amazing God. He never surprises me, because He always does what He says He will do, but He does amaze me, oh yes He does.

You see, last weekend I went to a wedding. And I saw a miracle. And I was amazed. That's the word I was looking for, a feeling of amazement.

 Beautiful banquet tables...

 Pastor Jim and the gorgeous arbor...

 Couldn't get enough of the flowers...

 The vineyard view was so pretty...

 A makeup refresh for the bride...

 Sisters...

A very happy and thankful groom...

 Wedding dance...

 The happy couple...

 A bride and her maids...

The wonderful sunset over the vineyard said it all--the heavens declare the glories of the Lord.

Hello New House

Dear New House,

I've decided to try to like you. No, you won't measure up to my old house (for probably some years). After all, it took almost 5 years for that house to measure up, so you should at least give yourself that long--to measure up. Try not to get your feelings hurt. I said I'd try, and I keep my word.

So far, the thing I like about you is your size. It's also the thing I don't like about you. On one hand, you are easy to get around in and clean, on the other hand, you lack storage. However, my goal was to downsize, and downsize I did. After selling and giving away almost half of my possessions, I am desperately trying to "fit" into your space. You are making it hard.

I also like that lawn care and snow removal are included in my homeowners' dues, along with many more features than I had before. That's a positive for you; you should take that and run with it. It's a pretty big deal.  With your indoor/outdoor pools, tennis courts, gym (not that I'll use it), fishing pond, playground, and hiking trails, well, you've earned major points.  Also, being backed up to a national forest is a big plus. But please remember, I used to have a river, a beach, and a very cute downtown.

All in all, I'm trying hard to like you. I've painted your laundry room and half bath, unpacked the majority of my personal items, and now, I guess, it's up to me to make friends in this new neighborhood. Maybe in time, they will be just as important to me as my old friends, but I highly doubt that.  You haven't met my old friends; they are and always will be — amazing.

I will walk your streets, hike your trails, enjoy your waterfalls, and take loads of pictures. I will present myself as friendly (I can't help that, it's who I am), and I will decorate my little heart out to make you feel warm, inviting, and comfy.  Paint, flowers, hearth, and home--that's my motto for you.
I promise to cozy you up and to offer coffee to all who enter. It's your job, however, to make them feel welcome. To wrap your little arms around them (that's what my old house did) and to make them feel special. That's very important to me — hospitality. If you can do that, we will eventually have a great relationship. I'm not saying that every once in a while I won't get a little peeved with you, because you know I will, I'm just saying that if you do things my way, we'll get along just fine in time. Time is important. Give me time to grieve the loss of my old house and my old friends. If you can do that, we are in business.

In closing, new house--I'm going to give this move my best shot. If you can do the same, we will become great friends. Deal?

Your new owner...