Today, my daughter, Tara, published her Bucket List on her blog. She challenged all her readers to do the same, if they haven't done so already. So, here's mine:
1. Be a Mom. I have 2 wonderful adult children but, as all Mom's know, our work is never done.
2. Spend as much time as I can with my grandchildren.
3. Sell our house so we can relocate closer to our children and grandchildren. (See #2 above)
4. See my son, Troy, happily married with a family. My daughter, Tara, has already married her soul-mate, has 2 children, and is living her dream. I want the same for Troy.
5. Find a way for Donn to be able to afford playing golf, go fishing and hunting, and have an unlimited supply of books on tape for all the days he'll have to relax when he doesn't have to work anymore. (see #3 above)
6. If we can afford #5 above, then maybe we can cruise to Alaska.
7. Return to Hawaii and visit the Big Island. We want to walk on the black sand on the Kona Coast.
8. Go to more ballroom dancing classes with Donn. We've only been to one, but we both enjoyed it.
9. Do all I can to make sure Donn and I live long, healthy lives.
10. At the end of my days, to know that I've sung every song, danced every dance, laughed until I cried, and loved as much as I could have humanly loved.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Ghosts of Christmas Past
I know it's a matter of perception, whether you believe in ghosts or angels. I choose to believe in both. I also choose to believe that, when you have lost someone special in your life, they cross over to become an ethereal being that some would call "ghost" and others, like me, angels. Tomato's or tomatoes; potatos or potatoes?
I dreamt of my Dad last night. On December 23rd, it will be 17 years since he passed away at the age of 82. It's always been hard for me to think of Christmas without thinking of my Dad. He loved the holidays. Starting with Thanksgiving, he put everything he had into making Christmas special. If you've seen the movie, The Christmas Story, you've seen my Dad. If I didn't know better, I'd say the actor who played the Major Award winning father in that movie, modeled his character after my Dad.
Have you ever had dreams that were so real it was hard believing it was, indeed, a sleep experience? That's what it was like when I visited with Dad the other night. He looked as I remembered him when he was in in his prime...handsome, strong, with a beautiful smile, his dark hair swept back from his prominent widow's peak hairline. Dad could have been the cover model for Native American Hunk, if there were such a publication!
As I approached him, all he did was hold out his hands, taking mine in his, and said "I see you now". Simple gesture, simple words but those actions spoke volumes to my heart. Not a ghost, but an angel saying that he was watching over me; that he sees me, not just now, but has always been at my side. Maybe he knew of my melancholy this Christmas season, with the kids being away from home; Piper being here in Michigan with her Dad's family and my not being able to see her; our worries and concerns as we try to make ends meet as a result of our "forced" retirements. My angel of Christmas Past spoke only a few words, but his presence resounded eloquently in my heart and soul. The visit reminded me of how much he loved Christmas, whether it was big or small. It's a time to give from the heart, not just from your wallet. To share and hold dear all the special times that make up my every day Christmas's; the gifts of love and laughter, health and happiness, peace and prosperity. Yes, prosperity. Didn't I just elude to the fact that Donn and I were reeling from our adjusted income reality? I did, but we are rich in love for each other, safe and warm in our own home, and young enough in heart and mind to look forward to whatever the future holds.
So, to my Dad, thank you for the visit and the chance to hold your hands and look into your eyes one more time. Merry Christmas, Daddy, and come again, any time. The door to my dreams is always open.
I dreamt of my Dad last night. On December 23rd, it will be 17 years since he passed away at the age of 82. It's always been hard for me to think of Christmas without thinking of my Dad. He loved the holidays. Starting with Thanksgiving, he put everything he had into making Christmas special. If you've seen the movie, The Christmas Story, you've seen my Dad. If I didn't know better, I'd say the actor who played the Major Award winning father in that movie, modeled his character after my Dad.
Have you ever had dreams that were so real it was hard believing it was, indeed, a sleep experience? That's what it was like when I visited with Dad the other night. He looked as I remembered him when he was in in his prime...handsome, strong, with a beautiful smile, his dark hair swept back from his prominent widow's peak hairline. Dad could have been the cover model for Native American Hunk, if there were such a publication!
As I approached him, all he did was hold out his hands, taking mine in his, and said "I see you now". Simple gesture, simple words but those actions spoke volumes to my heart. Not a ghost, but an angel saying that he was watching over me; that he sees me, not just now, but has always been at my side. Maybe he knew of my melancholy this Christmas season, with the kids being away from home; Piper being here in Michigan with her Dad's family and my not being able to see her; our worries and concerns as we try to make ends meet as a result of our "forced" retirements. My angel of Christmas Past spoke only a few words, but his presence resounded eloquently in my heart and soul. The visit reminded me of how much he loved Christmas, whether it was big or small. It's a time to give from the heart, not just from your wallet. To share and hold dear all the special times that make up my every day Christmas's; the gifts of love and laughter, health and happiness, peace and prosperity. Yes, prosperity. Didn't I just elude to the fact that Donn and I were reeling from our adjusted income reality? I did, but we are rich in love for each other, safe and warm in our own home, and young enough in heart and mind to look forward to whatever the future holds.
So, to my Dad, thank you for the visit and the chance to hold your hands and look into your eyes one more time. Merry Christmas, Daddy, and come again, any time. The door to my dreams is always open.
Friday, December 11, 2009
Where Are You Christmas?
The lyrics start with "Where are you Christmas, why can't I find you? Why did you have to go?" Previous to this year, I've heard the song many times but it never held much meaning to me. Now, I feel like I own it.
This is the first year 1) neither of our children or grandchildren will be here; 2) we won't be traveling to see any of them until the New Year; 3) we're not doing a tree or any decorations; and 4) I'm not doing any baking or making special meals.
So much has changed for Donn and I this year that we seem to just be lost when it comes to Christmas. I can understand why it doesn't make sense to him to climb up in the attic and drag down boxes and trunks filled with decorations so that I can spend 2 days transforming our house into my very merry adaptation of a Macy's Christmas window. We have no plans for guests to come in and we're working and then we're leaving New Years Day to head out west to be with the kids. Why would we want to do that just for us???? I've thought long and hard about that question and all I can come up with is that I want to put everything up and out and all over the place because of the memories all those trappings of the season mean to me.
Christmas has always been my favorite time of year. As a child, I grew up with parents who made it all seem so magical. My Mom was an amazing baker and cook. She would start weeks before Christmas, and there would be homemade peanut butter fudge, chocolate candies, and more varieties of cookies than I can even remember. There were always new ones she would try but the standards everyone waited for were the butterballs, date filled cookies and, of course, the decorated cut-out sugar cookies. While Mom prepared all the treats, Dad was busy from Thanksgiving through the next week or so, turning the outside of our home into a fantasy land of lights and characters. Remember, this was back in the 50's and 60's. The technology that brought us oversized inflated balloon-figures, animated lighted deer, sleighs, snowmen, and lights that stayed lit even if one burned out hadn't been invented. These were old fashioned strings of bulbs, that adorned every inch of roofline, circled every window, doorway and lined the walks. Now, for the trees! Daddy had lights on every row of branches of every evergreen and each tree, was crowned with a lighted star at the top. My parents were devoted to the reason for the season, so the main focus of the front yard was the large Nativity display. The creche, Mary and Joseph, 2 or 3 angels and an equal number of shephards. I remember the lamb and the donkey but most important, I loved the small plastic infant Jesus. There was a light where He would lay until late on Christmas Eve when Dad would lovingly nestle Him in his appointed place. Not before Christmas Eve, you understand, because He wasn't "born" until Christmas Day.
"Where are you Christmas, do you remember the girl I used to be?"
Christmas will come and we will celebrate. It will be a different celebration than those in the past but we will rejoice and enjoy what we have. Donn and I will have presents for each, we'll eat on my Christmas dishes and Donn will wonder why in the world, once again, I insisted on getting a fresh balsam wreath that will shed all over the entry way floor. I do that just to see if he's paying attention...hehehe. I've shopped and sent presents to Troy, Tara and the grandchildren and I'll be making special treats as gifts for my friends and neighbors.
So, you see, Christmas doesn't need to find me because I've never lost it. I love the giving and the joy I get from sharing what we have with those we love. I take that with me every day of my life and know that I've passed that on to my children. As for the Infant Jesus and His special place in the manger scene...He, too, is always there, where I can see Him and celebrate the gift of His birth and what it means to me.
This is the first year 1) neither of our children or grandchildren will be here; 2) we won't be traveling to see any of them until the New Year; 3) we're not doing a tree or any decorations; and 4) I'm not doing any baking or making special meals.
So much has changed for Donn and I this year that we seem to just be lost when it comes to Christmas. I can understand why it doesn't make sense to him to climb up in the attic and drag down boxes and trunks filled with decorations so that I can spend 2 days transforming our house into my very merry adaptation of a Macy's Christmas window. We have no plans for guests to come in and we're working and then we're leaving New Years Day to head out west to be with the kids. Why would we want to do that just for us???? I've thought long and hard about that question and all I can come up with is that I want to put everything up and out and all over the place because of the memories all those trappings of the season mean to me.
Christmas has always been my favorite time of year. As a child, I grew up with parents who made it all seem so magical. My Mom was an amazing baker and cook. She would start weeks before Christmas, and there would be homemade peanut butter fudge, chocolate candies, and more varieties of cookies than I can even remember. There were always new ones she would try but the standards everyone waited for were the butterballs, date filled cookies and, of course, the decorated cut-out sugar cookies. While Mom prepared all the treats, Dad was busy from Thanksgiving through the next week or so, turning the outside of our home into a fantasy land of lights and characters. Remember, this was back in the 50's and 60's. The technology that brought us oversized inflated balloon-figures, animated lighted deer, sleighs, snowmen, and lights that stayed lit even if one burned out hadn't been invented. These were old fashioned strings of bulbs, that adorned every inch of roofline, circled every window, doorway and lined the walks. Now, for the trees! Daddy had lights on every row of branches of every evergreen and each tree, was crowned with a lighted star at the top. My parents were devoted to the reason for the season, so the main focus of the front yard was the large Nativity display. The creche, Mary and Joseph, 2 or 3 angels and an equal number of shephards. I remember the lamb and the donkey but most important, I loved the small plastic infant Jesus. There was a light where He would lay until late on Christmas Eve when Dad would lovingly nestle Him in his appointed place. Not before Christmas Eve, you understand, because He wasn't "born" until Christmas Day.
"Where are you Christmas, do you remember the girl I used to be?"
Christmas will come and we will celebrate. It will be a different celebration than those in the past but we will rejoice and enjoy what we have. Donn and I will have presents for each, we'll eat on my Christmas dishes and Donn will wonder why in the world, once again, I insisted on getting a fresh balsam wreath that will shed all over the entry way floor. I do that just to see if he's paying attention...hehehe. I've shopped and sent presents to Troy, Tara and the grandchildren and I'll be making special treats as gifts for my friends and neighbors.
So, you see, Christmas doesn't need to find me because I've never lost it. I love the giving and the joy I get from sharing what we have with those we love. I take that with me every day of my life and know that I've passed that on to my children. As for the Infant Jesus and His special place in the manger scene...He, too, is always there, where I can see Him and celebrate the gift of His birth and what it means to me.
Drive Thru Etiquette 101
Let's be realistic, here...how many people have never been through a drive-thru of some kind? Raise your hands; don't be shy; I know you're out there. How do I know? Obviously, one or more of you have chosen to be in front of me in line at either McDonald's or the credit union on several occasions. Even if you don't admit who you are, you're really easy to spot.
Let's start with driving through McDonalds. We'll pick McD's because 1) it's been around the longest; 2) is the most recognizable name for fast food drive-thru's; and 3) there's one on almost every corner if you live in a city/village/town with a population larger than 2000 residents.
Chapter 1: The drive thru is designed for people who are in a hurry, know what they want to order to some extent, have money to make such a purchase in the form of cash/credit or debit card, and have experienced driving thru and ordering food more than once in their life either as a driver or a passenger. The bottom line is that you have a clue as to what you're going to encounter when you get to the speaker.
Chapter 2: It's OK to stop a bit before the speaker to check out the menu and make a decision as to what you'd like to order. It's not OK to poll each of the 6 kids in your car. That's why they have inside dining. Find a parking space, take their orders and, if there's another adult in the car, one of you stay with the kidlets and the other go in and pick up the food. Now, I am a tolerant Mom and Grandmother and I've had car loads of kids with me as we stopped at McDonalds on the way to soccer, wrestling, dance class, or football games. Here's how I worked it. Every child over the age of 3 knows what he/she wants at McDonald's. Pull into a parking space, get the kids orders, make sure to figure out what you want at the same time, then go through the drive-thru. Oh, after you get your order, pull into another parking space and make sure the orders are right. Don't do it at the pick-up window, unless there's no one else in line behind you.
Chapter 3: Make sure you have the means to pay for your meal. The other day, on my way to work while I stopped for my usual, the car in front of me had 2 young ladies who had just ordered their double latte's with fat free milk, and extra whipped cream and chocolate syrup on top. Instead of pulling forward so that I could proceed to the speaker and order, they began the quest for the means to pay for their order. I saw one dive into the back seat to retrieve her purse; that was the driver. Her passenger jumped out, banged on the trunk until the driver opened it for her, snatched her backpack which looked like something you'd use on our quest to conquer Mt. Everest. Miss Backpack began to unload said luggage on the trunk of her girlfriends car, and I could see her retrieving coins, not dollars, but coins which she counted, scooped up, stowed in her wallet which she also found during her search, and got back into the car. Oh, she had her friend open the trunk, again, so she could put the backpack away. What was that all about? Now, the young ladies should have enough money to pay for their latte whatever's, you'd think, right? Not the case. They get to the pay window, and you can see their heads together, counting their loot only to find they didn't have enough to pay for both beverages. In the end, they drove away with only one beverage and, hopefully, they were good enough friends to share. Of course, the line for the drive-thru is backed up all the way to the parking lot entrance.
Chapter 4: When driving thru at your favorite financial institution, we must agree that, before you get in line, you know what you're there for. It's not like McDonalds; you don't get a whole menu of choices. You're either cashing a check, making deposit or withdrawal or both, doing a balance inquiry to see if you can make a withdrawal, or making a payment. Let's be real here, that's about all you can do at the bank drive thru. So, how hard is it to have your check signed with ID ready to put in the vacuum tube thing that whisks it away to the teller? Or, just for grins, let's consider that you've made out your deposit or payment slip(s) in advance. If you're making a withdrawal, why don't we just anticipate that the teller is going to ask for your identification before she takes your word for it that the account numbers you gave her are to your account before she drains down the balance just because you asked nicely.
Contrary to popular opinion, drive-thru's are a convenience and a privilege. Those great people who work there, whether it's fast food or fast finances, are not mind-readers, and you are not the only person they will service that day. Be considerate, prepared, and use common sense.
Now I feel much better. Thank you for listening.
Let's start with driving through McDonalds. We'll pick McD's because 1) it's been around the longest; 2) is the most recognizable name for fast food drive-thru's; and 3) there's one on almost every corner if you live in a city/village/town with a population larger than 2000 residents.
Chapter 1: The drive thru is designed for people who are in a hurry, know what they want to order to some extent, have money to make such a purchase in the form of cash/credit or debit card, and have experienced driving thru and ordering food more than once in their life either as a driver or a passenger. The bottom line is that you have a clue as to what you're going to encounter when you get to the speaker.
Chapter 2: It's OK to stop a bit before the speaker to check out the menu and make a decision as to what you'd like to order. It's not OK to poll each of the 6 kids in your car. That's why they have inside dining. Find a parking space, take their orders and, if there's another adult in the car, one of you stay with the kidlets and the other go in and pick up the food. Now, I am a tolerant Mom and Grandmother and I've had car loads of kids with me as we stopped at McDonalds on the way to soccer, wrestling, dance class, or football games. Here's how I worked it. Every child over the age of 3 knows what he/she wants at McDonald's. Pull into a parking space, get the kids orders, make sure to figure out what you want at the same time, then go through the drive-thru. Oh, after you get your order, pull into another parking space and make sure the orders are right. Don't do it at the pick-up window, unless there's no one else in line behind you.
Chapter 3: Make sure you have the means to pay for your meal. The other day, on my way to work while I stopped for my usual, the car in front of me had 2 young ladies who had just ordered their double latte's with fat free milk, and extra whipped cream and chocolate syrup on top. Instead of pulling forward so that I could proceed to the speaker and order, they began the quest for the means to pay for their order. I saw one dive into the back seat to retrieve her purse; that was the driver. Her passenger jumped out, banged on the trunk until the driver opened it for her, snatched her backpack which looked like something you'd use on our quest to conquer Mt. Everest. Miss Backpack began to unload said luggage on the trunk of her girlfriends car, and I could see her retrieving coins, not dollars, but coins which she counted, scooped up, stowed in her wallet which she also found during her search, and got back into the car. Oh, she had her friend open the trunk, again, so she could put the backpack away. What was that all about? Now, the young ladies should have enough money to pay for their latte whatever's, you'd think, right? Not the case. They get to the pay window, and you can see their heads together, counting their loot only to find they didn't have enough to pay for both beverages. In the end, they drove away with only one beverage and, hopefully, they were good enough friends to share. Of course, the line for the drive-thru is backed up all the way to the parking lot entrance.
Chapter 4: When driving thru at your favorite financial institution, we must agree that, before you get in line, you know what you're there for. It's not like McDonalds; you don't get a whole menu of choices. You're either cashing a check, making deposit or withdrawal or both, doing a balance inquiry to see if you can make a withdrawal, or making a payment. Let's be real here, that's about all you can do at the bank drive thru. So, how hard is it to have your check signed with ID ready to put in the vacuum tube thing that whisks it away to the teller? Or, just for grins, let's consider that you've made out your deposit or payment slip(s) in advance. If you're making a withdrawal, why don't we just anticipate that the teller is going to ask for your identification before she takes your word for it that the account numbers you gave her are to your account before she drains down the balance just because you asked nicely.
Contrary to popular opinion, drive-thru's are a convenience and a privilege. Those great people who work there, whether it's fast food or fast finances, are not mind-readers, and you are not the only person they will service that day. Be considerate, prepared, and use common sense.
Now I feel much better. Thank you for listening.
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