WHAT I LEARNED ON THE WAY TO THE NURSING HOME

    Remember when you were a child, and it seemed like an eternity until your next birthday? Remember how you were so excited to be a year older? You even went so far as to state your age in fractions. You would say, I'm six and a half, or ten and three quarters. It was the only interest I ever had in learning fractions.

 Now days, those birthdays sneak up on me, and I can hardly believe another year is gone. I don't feel older. I still have the same taste in music and clothes. And, I have friends who are young enough to be my kids, so I sort of forget that I am older. Just imagine my shock, as I pass a mirror.

 I know I was quite the mess, in my youth. I smoked so much weed, and burned so many bridges, I must still smell like smoke. So, I don't miss the immature, bratty natured me. And, in later years........ well, lets just say, I don't miss the hormones, and leave it at that. The only thing I do miss is, my metabolism. Oh metabolism, what fun we had, never paying the price.

 I have learned something in my many, many years here on planet Earth. Now, pay attention, because this is important, kids.
 The only way to be truly happy, is to allow others to be happy.
 I'm not saying to be a doormat. I'm saying, if your husband wants to cook dinner, usually something your fragile metabolism can't handle, and use every pot and pan in the house, let him. Then, if he says he will clean the kitchen, let him. You can clean it up right, later on, and all will live in peace.
  Let your brother think he has won a debate. He will stop talking and you both will be happy. Chances are, unless one of you is Prime Minister of some country, your opinions don't matter, anyway.

  This is my best advice for life. Now, to quote Forest Gump, "That's all I have to say about that".


 

BEFORE KNOWING

 I read a book about grief, once. I think someone sent it to me after my mom died. In the book, they talked about anniversaries, as in birthdays, or the day the person died. It said, most often, the time leading up to the anniversary is much harder than the day, itself. I have not found this to be true. Every June 17th, I wake up at 3:45 am, the time recorded on my youngest daughters death certificate, and relive the day, in my mind.

 I remember the long drive, that night, from Plainview to Sherman. I think I fell asleep, for just a minute. I had a dream where I saw something I can only describe as the enemy, reach into Lauren's throat and pull the life from her. I woke up, and looked at my watch. It was 3:45. We got to the hospital at 4:15. I haven't worn a watch since.

 If I could just live in that time before. In those few minutes of, "Hello, how are you?" to Lauren's friends. Before meeting the doctor. Before he said those terrible words.

 It's raining this morning. The weatherman said it was flooding down in Austin. As I recall, Austin was flooding on that sad morning. So much so, we couldn't reach Eric, to tell him his baby sister was gone. Jon said it was okay to let him have a little more time, before knowing. Sarah, who had been awake all night, seemed to already know. Sisters are like that.

 We drove home, without rest, without our girl.

 A man we didn't know, who, also didn't know about Lauren, told us God had given him a vision. He saw a man praying, with tears rolling down his face. Then, he saw Jesus, holding hands, and walking with a little girl in a pink dress with a sash. I knew it was Lauren. I knew before the enemy tried to take her life, she had given it to Jesus.

 Before long, we will all be together again.

 

BRUISED EGOS AND OTHER INJURIES

  How bad would it be, if I needed to keep a chair, or stool next to my hammock, in order to safely climb out? What if I nailed something to the tree, like one of those bars old people use, to lift themselves off the toilet?

  I'm not that old, really, or disabled. But, I have never been described as coordinated. Oh, I can coordinate an outfit. But, I can't coordinate an outfit while chewing gum. Seriously, I was pushing my cart through Wal-Mart, the other day, and saw a friend.  When I opened my mouth to say hello, I swallowed my gum.

  I blame my mother. They say a baby needs to crawl, to become coordinated. And, I suspect Mom didn't think crawling was very Lady Like, and ended it quickly. After all, being her first girl after six boys, I was expected to wear pink and be a lady, at all times.

  Or, maybe it's because I never played sports. I like to blame this on the school district I grew up in, which didn't offer athletics to girls. I say, I blame the school, like it was something I wanted to do. In reality, I'm thinking, "thank God I never had to endure that particular humiliation!"

 Maybe, I just think about it too much. If someone yelled, "there's an ax murderer in your backyard!", I wouldn't have time to plan my exit strategy. I would just roll out of my hammock, and run.

  Well, it's a beautiful, late Spring day, and I can see my hammock, swaying there in the shade of two tall trees. The grass is mowed, and the birds are singing and splashing in the birdbath. The kids next door are tormenting each other in the pool. And, the bruise on my backside is nearly healed. Maybe I'll try the hammock again.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MOMMA

  Happy birthday, Momma.

 If you were here today, maybe I would pick you a bouquet of flowers, from Miss Beulah's yard. You would probably put them in a Mason jar, on the TV, then look embarrassed when Miss Beulah comes over to see you.

Or maybe I would bake you a birthday cake. Chocolate, because it's my favorite. You'll have to give me the recipe, which you know from memory. You can call out the ingredients, from the living room, where you are trying to watch your "stories". Maybe this time I'll write the recipe down, before it's lost forever.

 When your soaps have ended for the day, I'll find a guitar, (there is always a guitar in our house), and persuade you to teach me another song. But, you know when my brothers come in from playing outside, it will get loud. We will laugh at the crazy song lyrics Steve makes up, until you declare the music lesson over.

 Maybe after supper, we'll get Ivy, and go to Joel's Little League game. We'll be hot and sticky, and mosquito bitten, but we'll just have the best time.......
Sounds like a pretty great birthday, doesn't it, Momma?

Still missing you
Love, Sheila