Cold Feet

I have cold feet.  Almost always.

It is uncomfortable for me maybe, but excruciating for Andrew.

You see, every night my frozen little toes seek some comfort between his thighs.

He shrieks.  

I beg, “Pleeease!  They’re so cold and you’re so warm!”

I hate wearing socks, and my last pair of slippers became worn out and thrown out several years ago.  But do you see those cute slippers above? My mom bought those for me recently.  Not only are they the cutest slippers I’ve ever owned, but they keep my feet toasty warm.  I slip them off right before bed, and my feet stay warm all night long  – without having to steal some of Andrew’s precious body heat.

I’m pretty sure Drew is even more thankful for these slippers than I am.

Thanks, Mom!

 

And because I love it when my blog friends leave me with a question to answer, I’d like to do that too:

Can you remember a time when you had cold feet – literally or otherwise, like before your wedding?

 

 

Leaving the City

The snow here is beautiful to me.  I love how it seems to blanket everything in purity. Like a heart washed clean by the blood of Christ. 

Looking out my picture window, I see three houses across the street that make me sad.  One house was our Sunday night desination for coffee, laughs and Simpsons.  One house was the location for our Tuesday night Bible study and potluck, and the home of my son’s best friend.  The third house belonged to a very close friend of mine, a true sister in my heart.

We had something special.  Borrowing eggs, toilet -paper, blenders, diapers, you name it – we were always there for eachother.   Poking our heads into each-others houses and lives at all times of the day and night. We saw eachother through good times and bad.  Clean houses and… not so clean.  

When I was shoveling snow the other day, I felt a bit lonely.  It used to be that when I shoveled, I could look across the street and say “Hi” to one of my dear friends as they shoveled their walk, and our kids would be playing together in the front yards.

They’ve all moved away.  It’s a good thing for them – leaving the city for safer suburbs.  I am happy for them.  But I miss them.  Two of those houses are now home to renters, and one is vacant.  One other family is left beside ours – they are a street behind us.  I am glad they are still here – we carpool and babysit for eachother, but not being on the same street makes them even feel a little distant. 

We had a rare and special thing – not sure exactly what to call it, so “thing” will have to suffice.  I don’t want to sit here and have a pity party, I guess I am just really realizing how amazing that time was, and that I may never have it again.  I am thankful for the experience. 

And in a few short months, it will be my turn to move away from this street in the city.

 

To be continued . . . .

 

The Rooster Cup

School starts tomorrow, signaling the end of summer-time fun. 

When I was a kid, one of my family’s summer traditions was to drive four hours north to Burt Lake.  On Burt Lake there used to be a cozy group of cabins called Holiday Homes.  The reddish-cabins were a bit small and outdated, but were cozy all the same and had kitchens and fireplaces.  The huge lake was pristine, shallow and warm.

Me and my older sister, Kelly, on the dock.

Several families always went up with us.  Every year some of my Mom’s sisters and brothers (she is one of ten children) families would fill up the five cabins.  A few times my grandparents would even drive up from Florida to spend the week with us.  It was a week of potlucks, catching crayfish and toads, swinging fast and high on the rope swing, watching my Uncle Kevin eat live minnows (once every year) and singing old church songs in front of one family’s fireplace while Uncle Blake played guitar. 

These are treasured memories.  But some of my favorite Burt Lake memories were planted in my brain while standing around the horseshoe pits.  Every year, we had a horseshoe tournament.  All the adults and kids were invited to try their luck at tossing their horseshoe closest to the stake more times than anyone else.

Now, since I was a kid, and my childhood memories are admittedly a bit foggy, I cannot tell you how long a tournament lasted, but it felt like days. 

The best part: watching my Grandpa play.  He had a fun way of being competitive but not at all mean-spirited.  On his turn, he would stride over to his mark, horseshoe in hand, and get his game face on.  After careful concentration he would release he horseshoe, wait for it to *clank* around the stake and then he would let out a rooster crow!  Not any mamby-pamby rooster crow either, but from the gut and with gusto.  (Think Peter-Pan.) Even now, I can’t help but smile at the thought of grandpa and his rooster crow.

At least once, my grandpa won the tournament, and someone had the idea to make a trophy for him.  The trophy was called The Rooster Cup.  The Rooser cup was passed to several different winners throughout the years.  I’m not sure who has it now – but I hope Grandpa does. 

 

Grandpa and Grandma. My inspirations.

 

My Grandpa is still going strong.  He’s 86 and writing a book.  My grandma looks sweet in this picture, doesn’t she?  She had such a beautiful and loving heart.  She passed a few years ago.   Grandma wrote a book too, called My Lord, My Shepherd.  I am amazed when I read through it and find that some of the pages seem familiar, like they could have been writen by myself.  We must have been at least a little similar.  She was a wise woman, a gentle dove.  Although I grew up many many miles from them, and may not know them as well as I’d like, I am very thankful for them.  Their inheritance is a blessed one.  I pray that my marriage will always be as strong as theirs, and that my life will always shine of Jesus’ love like their lives do.

What is one of your favorite summer tradition memories?

 

how was my day today?

as my dad would say, “that IS the question.”

i am completely drained and worn and confused. i feel fine, and strong when i am with him, but everytime i leave his room or the hospital i have a moment of release – venting the stress with tears. the stress of the unknown. what does his future hold? what role will i play in it? what will the cat scan results be? ugh!!!!!! lord god almighty i need you.

i really miss my children, i want to hold them forever. cuddle them, smell them, push them on the swing. listen to them whine. whatever. i know this is just for a time. me hanging out in an un-kid friendly hospital. soon they’ll be able to come with me to visit grandpa.

my dad scared me a bit today. i went in early because i heard a rumor that he was to be released. but then he had one last MRA that showed that his ruptured aneurism was slowly filling with blood. the neurosurgeon will be watching that closely apparently. yeah. so i waited with him all day for someone to come sign him out, until his headache grew worse and they decided he needed another CAT scan. which they didnt get to until i was leaving for the night around 8pm. they also want to do a doppler on his legs to rule out blood clots. (he’s been having great pain in both his legs.)

but i tell you, this has just been an emotional week. emotions flying everywhere. dad has given his words of wisdom to every visitor. teary eyed and full of love, it’s as if he’s giving his last words. it’s hard to take in such latge doses. all day today we had such good talks – that i’ll remember forever – but it’s hard. it’s hard to see him want nothing else than to go home and get in his bed, and i cant just say yes. i hate seeing him hurt. he’s been in so much pain this week, mostly his head hurts. it’s hard to watch. but i want to be there for him. he keeps saying how much it means to have me there with him. how comforting it is. and i wouldn’t have it any other way. i’ve gotten to hear stories i’ve never heard before about his parents and his life.

well now, there’s a chance he’ll be discharged tomorrow and then he’s moving to an acute care facilty where he can have a little physical therapy and some neuro/psych therapy, and most importantly have someone with him 24/7. he’ll be there for a couple weeks i think. then back to his condo.

gosh – if anyone’s still reading this – thank you guys. thank you hannah and jenny and shannon for the DELICIOUS food – thank you meldoy for the food you made that i wasn’t home to receive yet, thank you cheryl for calling and sending your love, thank you shannon for taking such good care of my kids and taking them to swim class. thank you to danielle and nikki ad all my family for your kind words and prayers. thank you, thank you , thank you all.

 

Happy Mothers Day, Mom.

you and i are alike in many ways.

my favorite thing i got from you is the late night hysterical laughing fits. i have your eyes, (although a different color) and i have your crazy curls, but not your pretty feet.

thank you for showing me how to keep a neat house – even though my space in your house as a child was never as clean as it could have been. eventually when i had a house of my own, i had a great example to look to.

mom, i appreciate all you had to do when times were tough. i’ll never know how tough it was. thank you for all the years and the hard work. raising children is such an enormous responsibilty. the weight can be hard to bear sometimes. i am amazed that you did it (and are doing it) FIVE TIMES. oi!

oh, and yes – the picture above is the only one i have of the two of us where your head is not smaller than mine!

happy day, momma. i love you.

………………….

 

the beauty of the aged

happy st. patti’s day to all me fellow pat’s and patsy’s!

you know what?

i think old people are absolutely wonderful and adorable. i should say “older” – not “old.” dont want to offend.

but when i am driving down the street and i see a beautifully wrinkled black woman, walking slowly with her bag of goodies, it makes me smile. older people hold a lot of wonder for me. looking into their eyes is like being privy to a peek at their joys and struggles. i love how fragile some of them are, and that, even if you never knew them when they were younger, you can tell they’ve shrunk a bit.

i respect older people so much, because even if their not perfect angels (and some are not. some are cratchety and mean) still they have lived and endured on this earth for much longer than i have. they’ve seen more, heard more, lived more than me. and i could sit for days listening to their stories. i love to talk sometimes, but when i am in the presense of poeple over sixty-five, i like to shut up and soak up as much as i can.

i love visiting with andrew’s grandma for that reason. somehow she and i usually end up alone in conversation at family parties – she passionatly telling her stories to me. often it’s a story she’s told me before, about her life forty years ago -when she was a young, struggling mother. a shaping time in her life, i think. she’s amazing. she had three boys in cloth diapers at one point – and no washing machine! i hope i get to listen to her stories for many more years. younger generations could learn a lot of we all stopped to listen to our grandparents stories.

with the coming of old age, i know there sometimes comes aches and pains, but i still think i will enjoy being older. hopefully i will have someone who will enjoy listening to me ramble about the days back when . . . .

 

Amazing Grace

how can i be so happy and content with who i am, and with life in general when i’m home with my family – and then so competely insecure when i step outside my house? i dont expect an answer. i just dont get it.

i went out twice this weekend for a friend’s birthday. it was fun. but weird. the first night i felt a bit akward and quiet. reserved but not wanting to be. and regreting my wallflower-likeness all the next day until we went out that next night, with more people, and i felt comletely opposite – like i was trying so hard to change the pattern of the night before that i was over the top and obnoxious. ugh. and i regretted all the way home and today. i dont know if i’ll ever get past the “what did they think of me tonight?” thoughts. “what did they see in me tonight that will drive them away?” i know the more i place my self-worth inthe hands of my Maker it should get better – but does it have to take so long? i’m impatient to the core.

it’s strange to me that i’ve had such strong self-doubting thoughts lately because i’m in an incredible time of life right now.

i can say with complete confidence that i have never experienced life to be as wonderful as it it right now. it’s weird – because financially – we’re broke as a joke. the worst ever maybe, but that hasn’t had any affect on my family. or maybe it’s one of the factors drawing us together. all i know is that i am more happy than i imagined possible and so very content. what seemed like a hopeless marital situation a year ago has turned into an almost dreamlike bliss. there are no words. i am so in love. i’ve learned how to love.

all i can say is thank you. thank you god. thank you to those who prayed for us. a few days ago i was overwhelmed with the realization that if it werent for the many people praying for andrew and i, not only would we not be in this new loving stage of marriage, but we just wouldn’t be together. i am blessed to be surrounded by friends and fanily who intercede for me, and my heart reaches out to those who are not also blessed in that way.

i am in a place of rest right now. a valley of peace, and mountaintop of victory. after the sweat and the tears, i want to stay here forever. i know i cant – but i’m enjoying the stay for now. what will tomorrow bring?

for today i am happy, and insecure, and freezing, and adoring my sick (but adorable) hubby lying on the couch next to me. life IS good.