Thanksgiving with Mama

November makes me think of Thanksgiving. I get nostalgic about past holidays, family members that came for Thanksgiving and sentimental about all my loved ones around me. Mama loved Thanksgiving too. For many years, some of her brothers and sisters would visit during this time and all of us would pack into her little cozy home. Mama would set the table with her Desert Rose dishes, her pretty glasses that she kept at the top of the cabinet and shiny silverware. She had several different sets of dishes but her Desert Rose dishes were her pride and joy. It sounds real fancy but truly it wasn’t. The casual, chrome legged table sat in the middle of the kitchen. The grownups got to sit there. The children sat in the living room, my bedroom or anywhere else they could find. We had turkey, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole and Stove Top Stuffing. Mama wasn’t the greatest of cooks but she did try to make the day special. All the time she was cooking I was in and out of the kitchen with her watching and learning. She would tell me stories of her growing up years, stories of my daddy that she had heard from my grandma and in between times she’d teach me how to make the gravy, or how to make sure the turkey was done. I cherish those memories now more than ever as I prepare Thanksgiving dinner for family and friends. The most wonderful thing about our Thanksgiving dinners though was Mama’s fruit salad. She took great pains to prepare it just so. She washed all the fruit, dried it with a towel and cut it perfectly. As she would cut her red apples into little squares, a piece would pop into her mouth and she’d smile, then another piece into the bowl and she’d pick it up with the tip of her knife and hand it to me. We giggled as we took little bits and pieces of her fruit salad. Mama also added pecans and coconut to her salad. I did not like coconut so she always put a special bowl of the golden stuff aside just for me. She called it her special salad. Then we would break up the pecans together, pour in the coconut, mix it well and she would put it into her bone china white serving bowl with the silver ring around the top. After topping it off with a little lemon juice to “keep the apples from turning”, the salad would chill in the fridge until lunch was ready. The delicious smells waft through the house, the sounds of laughter from the cousins and the chit chat of all the adults still fill my Thanksgiving memories. She would call us all to lunch, we’d come to the kitchen, stand around the table and it would suddenly get quiet. Mama would say “well, it’s ready. Let’s thank the Lord.” Then, she would ask one of her brothers to say the blessing. The day grew on as we filled ourselves to the brim with all that turkey and other goodies. You could hear my daddy’s loud voice in the background, my brother’s playing guitars in their room, me and my other cousins playing Barbie’s and the ladies sitting at the table talking about whatever ladies talk about. Some of my cousins and my brothers may remember it differently but these are my memories. They are happy and if there were bad memories I have chosen to forget them. After awhile passed by, my aunts, cousins, me and mama would take a walk around the block. It was so fun walking down the street, laughing, teasing and enjoying one another’s company. Later, when all the company left, Mama and I would begin to put the freshly washed dishes back in the cabinet to await their Christmas usage. Just about the time the last dish was in its spot Mama would keep two little Dessert Rose juice glasses out. She’d pour a little tea, juice or milk into each of them and would say “Let’s rest. I’m pooped!” Back then I always thought she was doing that because she really was tired and wanted to rest. No doubt she was tired after all that cooking, eating and visiting. But, as I’ve grown older I realize she was doing that just for us. She knew how much I loved those glasses, how I wished I could drink out of the grown up glasses and sit at the grown up table. Mama in her special way, made the day even more special for me.

Many of those glasses have been broken or lost over the years. There isn’t even a complete set now to use at a special dinner. However, when I start feeling really sick, I get out one of those little glasses with the roses around the top; pour in some orange juice and drink. Somehow it just makes it all better. It’s Mama’s way of making me feel better in this grown up world.

I hope you have a wonderful Thanksgiving this year and that you find a way to make your children a part of the preparations, the day and the clean up. Most of all, I hope you give your kids the blessing of being part of who you are.

Mama sure did – and THAT’s a blessing!

Hugs from Mama

Mama loved to hug. She hugged just about everyone she knew. She often told me about when she first married daddy and they went to Branson, Missouri to meet his family. Mama said she walked in, was introduced and she reached over and hugged their necks. They weren’t sure what to think of that. No one ever hugged in their family. From that day forward, every time Mama and Daddy went to visit they greeted each other with a hug. When daddy died, one of my aunts told me that she never remembered being hugged until Mama came into the family. She really made a difference.

However, Mama also believed in a firm, strong handshake. She showed me how to look someone in the eye, extend your hand and shake with confidence. Mama said don’t be weak and limp with your handshake and don’t be so strong that you hurt their fingers. Smile warmly when you shake hands with someone and make them feel welcome….even if you are the visitor.

Mama had a lot of social graces. One of my favorite pictures of Mama is of her walking down the streets of Fort Worth, head held high, beautiful dress, gloves, pearls, hand bag and pumps. She looked like a movie star. When Mama sat down she crossed her legs ever so sweetly. She always carried a handkerchief and never put lipstick on in public. Even in her later years she dressed for the doctor’s office and had her makeup on, hair done and jewelry on. Mama was a true lady. She smiled even up to her last days here on earth. She made everyone feel welcome. She hugged people when they came to see her and shook hands at church. Mama had Alzheimer’s, but she still had her graces.

I wasn’t quite so graceful and often felt like I would never live up to how graceful and loving she was.

Sometimes I even cried and told her, “I’ll never be like you!”

Her response was, “Baby, you don’t want to be like me. You want to be like Christ. He made you as He wants you to be.”

It has been a very difficult road to learn that lesson. I loved Mama and admired her so much. When someone tells me they think I am very much like her, I don’t see it. Sometimes there’s a glimpse of her smile, or a wrinkle in my hand, but mostly I don’t see it. I suppose I’ll just keep trying to be like Christ. That’s how it’s supposed to be anyway, right?

Mama was a blessing to me and my brothers. She left a legacy to her children, grandchildren and all of those that claimed her as theirs. The biggest blessing I see however is that when you have Christ living in you, your demeanor is different. It’s welcoming, loving and accepting. You can hug someone and make them feel more loved than they’ve ever felt before, you can shake their hand and help them feel welcomed, and you can be graceful and remind them to look to Jesus.

I can’t think of a better blessing than that!

Blessing others when you need a blessing

Mama saw a lot of emergency rooms in her lifetime. Her first was when her papa went to the hospital and then passed away when she was 19. Over the years she was hit by a car, took my dad for stitches in his head, meningitis for my brother, stitches for the other one, breathing problems after being drugged for me, and then in her later years many heart and breathing problem for herself. I was with her during many of those ER visits. They were always unnerving for me. Worried if she would make it or what would be next. Most of the time she was put into a private room where she laid very still, listening, breathing, praying. Other times she was put into a room where only a curtain was drawn and she could hear the conversations of other patients. I can remember three or four visits where she was more concerned about the other person than herself. One specific situation a woman was brought in by ambulance, as was mama, because of a possible heart attack. The woman was crying and wailing with fear. Mama raised up on her elbows, as the doctors and nurses left her alone for a few minutes, to try to reassure her she would be okay.

Mama said, “What’s your name, miss?”

“Caroline”, the woman answered.

“Caroline, it’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay. Can I pray for you, Caroline?”

“Yes please!” Caroline cried.

Mama whispered to me, “Let’s bow our hands and pray for that dear woman.”

Mama prayed with strength and power and with the calming voice I loved so much when I was fearful or in pain. As she prayed, Caroline began to breathe normally, she stopped crying and she could think more clearly. Just as Mama said “Amen” the nurse came back in and was pleasantly surprised. Tests showed later that Caroline didn’t have a heart attack but a panic attack instead. Mama on the other hand had to be admitted for observation and congestive heart failure. Every day while she was in that hospital she told me she was praying for Caroline.

Another time, mama was pretty bad off. Her lung had collapsed. She was in very bad shape. A man was brought in by ambulance and they were doing CPR on him as he entered. Mama asked me why someone was sitting on him. I explained to her they were doing chest compressions. She grabbed my hand and said; let’s pray for him and his family. We did. The man passed away and his teenage children were devastated. Mama continued to pray for them even though her own health situation was dire.

Mama passed away only 3 weeks after that. Though we knew the time was coming close none of us wanted to say goodbye to her. We all still miss her spirit of encouragement and prayer to this day.

Last week my youngest brother had hip replacement surgery. I couldn’t be there with my sister-in-law while his surgery was going on but I was praying all day for him. Finally, that night I was able to go see about him. We had a great visit. Then, he took my hand, asked me how I was doing and I shrugged and said “eh, okay”. He asked me to bend down close to him. I did. He kissed me on the cheek, lifted his left hand and placed it on my hand. Then he began praying for me. It brought me to tears. He was doing exactly what Mama would do in her time of pain, praying for others. What a blessing!

My brothers and I have had our times of trials, arguments, tender moments, laughs, and sorrows. But, when push comes to shove and the rubber meets the road, we are family. We love each other. We pray for each other and we care. (Though to the outside world it may be distorted)

The blessing Mama passed to us was to care for others. Look beyond your own pain and think about how others may be doing. We have Christ as our Comforter, our Savior, and our Provider. Maybe they don’t. In our pain, we can show them Christ. It’s hard to do. Honestly, when I’m in pain I only want to think of myself – and want everyone else to think of me too!!!

I’ve been blessed and I’ve learned that when I think of others, pray for others and love others in spite of my pain and fear, God blesses me too.

Who have you blessed today?

Mornings with Mama

Mama did three things every morning. She poured herself a cup of black coffee, ate a cookie and read God’s Word. Every morning without fail she followed through with that routine. Always waking before everyone else, it was her quiet time with her Lord. I would wake up later and peak through the hallway on my way to the bathroom and see her in her favorite chair. Sometimes she was still reading and sometimes her head was resting on the back of her chair with her eyes closed. Often I thought she was just asleep but it was here that she shed the burdens of her heart to God.

This routine was so engrained in her being that even after she was diagnosed with Alzheimers and came to live with my family it continued. Her cookies were replaced with sugar free cookies because of diabetes, still drank black coffee and still read God’s Word. In fact, after she passed away I found a book where she had copied scriptures so she wouldn’t forget. The bible was her lifeline, her passion and her constant. She gained strength for her day each morning and gave her heart to the Lord so He could protect it for her. There were many days that I would spend crying in mama’s lap explaining my problems. She listened so intently, gave advice but always ended with one thing.

“Have you prayed about it?”

That was her answer to every problem. Honestly, sometimes it really irritated me. I just wanted her to take the problem and solve it. In her wisdom, mama knew that she couldn’t do that, but God could. What a blessing!

So this morning when you sit down to have your coffee, instead of opening your emails, checking your bank account, or looking at Facebook, open His word and see what He has to say today. He has something there to guide you today. Then, lean your head back, close your eyes and share the burdens of your heart to Him. All those concerns you have for your children - He cares for them even more than you do. The burdens about finances - He knows where that money needs to go. Health, jobs, friends and family – He’s got it all under His control. Just relax. His shoulders are bigger than yours anyway.

You know, Mama wasn’t perfect. She’d be the first to tell you that. But, every time I pour myself a cup of coffee in the morning my first thought is to read the Word.

Now THAT’S a blessing!

“Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed,
       for his compassions never fail.

They are new every morning;
       great is your faithfulness.”

Lamentations 3:22 -23

Guarded Freedom

Teens are a different breed. They have these new bodies, new attitude and new independence. Teens are invincible in every way that is important – to them. The adults of those teens often see them as different, however. They see a stinky new body, a new bad attitude and solitude. Their teens often want to be left alone so they can do it themselves. Mama began teaching me about teens when I was a mom of toddlers. It began one day when my son climbed up the kitchen cabinets, onto the refrigerator to get a cookie – for me. I was so scared that he would fall. As I related this story to Mama she laughed and laughed. Then she said, “Oh my goodness, are you ever going to have fun when he’s a teen”. Oh my! At that time, I sure wasn’t looking towards the teen years. After all, I only had a 2 yr and a 5 yr old. Teen years seemed eons away! Little did I know how fast it would go by!

Mama asked me how my son got on the top of the cabinets and fridge without me knowing. I told her that I had gone to the bathroom and didn’t realize he could do that so fast. She reminded me that he was learning that since he could now walk and talk that he didn’t have to have me to do all of that for him.

He could pick up a toy without me. He could pick on his sister without me. He could say what was on his mind - all without me.

Mama said when those kids are teens it isn’t any different. Teens have new bodies, new attitudes and new independence. They think they can do it all without you. Of course, we know they can’t do everything without us but they don’t know that. Just like my 2 yr old didn’t know either. Her advice? Give them some freedom, but guarded freedom. Set those boundaries, lay down the law, have consequences for good and bad behavior but don’t leave them to figure it all out on their own. Would you leave a two year old alone to figure out that if they touch a hot stove they are going to get burned? Would you leave a two year old alone to figure out that a speeding car down a residential street will not be able to see them if they cross the street without looking? Of course, you wouldn’t’. So, why do we in general leave teens to figure out so many things on their own? Don’t get wrong, Mama believed in teaching us independence. We had definite chores, expectations, boundaries and consequences, but, when we needed to experience something on our own to teach us a lesson she watched carefully. We were able to go out with friends on our own but she had to know when, where and expected us to check in. We were able to try something new even if she didn’t always think it would be a great idea. But she was there if we failed to help us back up. She was also there while it was going on praying in the background. She believed in protected independence, the kind that would produce strong godly young adults. It was her job. She was the mom, the queen of her castle and the ever defending mama lion to her cubs. She loved her children fiercely and with an open hand. By that, I mean she allowed us to fall but gave a hand to lift us up. Sometimes that hand was open to our backsides!

Mama brought this lesson home to me one day as we went to a women’s conference together. The speaker asked the crowd if any of us had a strong willed child. Mama raised her hand. I laughed and said, “Which one of us was strong willed?” She smiled and said, “That’s for me to know.” Later, I nagged and nagged her as to which of us was strong willed. I went down the list of reasons that each of my brothers had to be the strong willed one. Mama only smiled. Finally, as we were walking through the bookstore of the conference, I stopped.

“ME?” “It’s ME? Are you kidding? I’M the strong willed child?”

Mama laughed and laughed and said “Of course it’s you!” I was shocked! Once again, Mama relayed to me how personalities and demeanor of the child worked. Evidently, I was a doozy for her! My teen years were spent very actively involved in everything. There was the normal girl drama, boyfriends, school activities, dresses, makeup and tears. Oh, the tears! Mama was always there waiting with an open hand to catch me if I fell. She watched from the background letting me learn, be in the limelight of her life and praying. Boy, did she pray! As I look back on her advice and my teen years, I think she gave pretty good advice.

Teens have a rough time right now. There is a lot going on in their mind and body. They should have the safety of home and the security of their parents ready to listen, cheer them on and guide them. Grant it, they may not appear to be listening, but they are. In the quietness of their solitude they will remember your words. They will remember your love and most of all they will remember that you prayed for them. Just never leave them alone. They are new at this. Teens need us. Just as I never realized that I was a strong willed child or teen, many of them don’t realize what is going on in their own bodies.

So, what is Mama’s blessing today? Guarded Freedom. Remember, you wouldn’t leave a two year old alone to figure out the world, don’t leave your teen alone to figure it out either.

But overall, her advice once again would be - just love them and pray. Pray hard!

Love at every age

Mama was born right smack in the depression; 1931 to be exact. When she was born she already had grown siblings and after she was born 11 more came along. Hers was a big family by today’s standards and 1931 standards as well! In those days, children learned what responsibility was all about. When my grandmother was pregnant one of the older siblings took that child as her own. That meant they were to keep up with him or her, help feed, change, entertain or whatever needed to be done. By the time Mama was 11 years old she already knew quite a lot about child rearing. She left her tiny little town of Tioga, Texas when she graduated high school so that she could go to business school. It would be a few more years after that she met and married my dad. They started their family pretty quickly thereafter. My grandmother passed away when my oldest brother was three. When she passed away she left one child at home that was not quite finished with high school. My mom’s baby sister came to live with her and finished high school. In a way, Mama was raising two little boys and a teenager. I didn’t come a long for quite a few more years.

Mama’s mothering wasn’t limited to us. Throughout the years my brothers and I brought several people home with us from school, the neighborhood or church. Sometimes they were just friends. Sometimes, they were kids from homes that weren’t the greatest and they needed some help. Our home was always open. Sometimes they just got a meal, sometimes a bed for a few days. Sometimes as my dad would say, they got a swift kick in the pants to get them straightened out. Mama was the one who showed compassion to a fault. Daddy could be compassionate when he wanted but most of the time he was a no nonsense, heavy handed, shoot straight, loud and sometimes frustrating man. They both welcomed and made room for one more person at the table or one more body on a bed, couch or floor. I believe it was those experiences that taught Mama the next blessing she gave me and possibly one of the most important.

My daughter was born after 4 years of infertility and miscarriages. We were thrilled when she was born having been told less than a year before that we would never be able to have children. The evening she was born was mixed with emotions. She was born by emergency C-section for multiple reasons. However, she was here, born with a few problems but still perfect to us in every way. Mama was at the hospital within minutes of her birth. That sweet baby girl lay on my knees as I stroked her hair, counted her toes and stroked her skin. Mama and I cried with happiness as we prayed together and thanked God for her. Then I said it. The thing. The thing that my Mama hated me to say. I had said it many times before and she didn’t like it when I did but I said it anyway. “Mama, I’ll never be as good as a mom as you”. Now some of you younger readers may not understand her response. She said “Oh, Pshh shaw”. I can’t tell you exactly what that means or that I even spelled it correctly. It’s just something an older generation says when they mean “Oh PU – LEEZE”, in today’s vernacular. I went on. I said, “Mama, I love her so much. She is so perfect and I can’t imagine loving her more than I do right now. This has to be the favorite age. What was your favorite age for us?” Without missing one single second Mama said

“With out a doubt, every single age”.

She went on saying that some ages were tougher or more challenging but every single age had its blessings. She loved us so much. She said that when you change your outlook on children then you learn to love them right where they are. Mama truly believed that “twos” weren’t terrible but “TERRIFIC”, threes were THRILLING, fours were FANTASTIC and fives were FABULOUS! She even had a whole philosophy about teens, but that’s another story!

Overall, her advice was to love and appreciate every single age. Thank the Lord for the hard times, for the tears and even for the temper tantrums. It meant they were breathing and alive. It meant God was teaching you something and possibly them as well. Just love them. That’s her blessing.

As she would say every day while walking up to give me a hug, “Have I told you today that I love you? Because I do, you know. Very much!”

So, go hug your child, whatever the age. Let them know you are in their corner, you love them and think they are great! Because you do, you know. Very much!

Mama’s Friend

Mama had a big box under her bead that held pictures and memories of years gone by. When she was sad or there was a special occasion coming up she would dig out that box and look through it. There were generations of lives living in that box, stories that were told and sweet faces she loved. I often found Mama reminiscing over those pictures. Mama had a very large family. When I say large I mean Jim Bob & Michelle Duggar large. There were 19 kids in that family; two moms, one dad and a plethora of children. So, when she looked back on pictures of loved ones there was a lot to look at! She had quite a few stories in her mind. That’s really why it is so important to me to write down what I remember. She shared so much of herself with me and God gifted her with so much wisdom that I really want that to live on.

One particular morning, Mama was sitting on her bed with a picture in her hand and she was crying. I sat down next to her and asked why she was crying. She told me about her best friend when she was a teen. Mama described this girl as one of the most beautiful girls she had ever known. Her hair was golden, her eyes sparkled and she had a smile that lit up the sky. Both girls, Mama and her friend, were poor. In the era of the depression poor had a different meaning than it does today. Their parents had bought shoes for the girls and neither of them fit correctly. Mama had sneakers and her friend had red shiny dress shoes. Mama’s friend loved to run and Mama loved to dress up. Each girl walked to school in their shoes, met at a tree and traded each day. Each girl’s shoes fit the other girl. They worked it out. It didn’t matter that Mama’s shoes had holes in them because the girl could run faster in shoes that were made for running and that fit her feet. It didn’t matter to Mama that the shoes were red and her dress was blue because they were dress shoes and she had never had dress shoes. Most of all, both girls could wear the other’s shoes without curled up toes or blisters on their heels. It was a match made in shoe heaven.

Their friendship was like that as well. What one girl had the other did not. One was a reader the other was a runner. One was outgoing the other was shy. The girls had a marvelous and wonderful friendship. It was to last a lifetime. Yet, God had another plan.

On one occasion on their way to school they found a little kitten. The girls oohed and awed over that kitty. They loved on it so much that they ended up just a wee bit late for school. Giggling to themselves they decided between them they would keep the kitty by their tree and feed it every day. Excited, they bubbled through their day waiting to see their new kitty. Finally, school let out, they ran to their tree and played with their new pet until they had to leave to get home. Exchanging shoes, they promised they would meet earlier the next morning so they wouldn’t be late for school. The girls hugged, said goodbye and skipped excitedly home.

Mama said that daylight couldn’t come soon enough for her. The shyer of the two, she didn’t share any of this information with her other siblings or her parents. She feared that her parents would be upset about the kitten or her siblings would snitch! Mama told me that she could barely sleep that night. The next morning her mom didn’t have to wake her. She bounced up ready for the day. Quickly, she ran to her tree to meet her friend. She waited but no one came. She called and called and sat down but no one came. Not even the kitty. Finally, being afraid that she would be late a 2^nd day for school she ran on, in her own worn sneakers, wondering what had happened to her friend and new kitty.

Mama made it to school in time and found the teacher crying. She sat quietly in her desk and looked around as other students looked at her strangely. The teacher stood up, cleared her throat, patted her eyes and began to speak. Mama said that when that teacher spoke it was as though her own world stopped. The teacher said that her friend’s papa had come to the school that morning to let her know that she wouldn’t be back at school. Apparently she had found a stray animal the day before, it had scratched and bit her and my mama’s dear friend died in the night. The cat had been found and shot. On that day, Mama lost her very best friend, pet, partner in “crime” , so to speak and red shiny shoes. She was devastated. She cried and cried. Other students tried consoling her to no avail. She hadn’t told anyone about the cat and wasn’t about to. So, not only was she dealing with the loss of her friend she thought, in her young mind, that she would die very soon.

Over the next few days people talked about this tragic event. Mama listened. She heard them talk about how her friend was sweet but really a very ugly girl. They spoke of her completely different than how Mama knew her. In fact, one time Mama even asked if they were talking about the same girl. Mama assured them that she was beautiful and not ugly at all. “They” always told Mama that she must be blind.

That is the story Mama told me on that Saturday morning by the box. I asked if she was crying because she missed her. Her answer was ‘yes and no’. She told me that yes, of course she missed her friend but the pain of losing her had waned over all those years. She was crying because she had just found a picture of her and realized that she wasn’t a pretty girl at all. The golden hair that Mama had remembered was really corse, frizzy and red. The sparkling eyes were crossed and very bulging. The smile that lit up the sky was crooked and missing several teeth. The teeth that remained were blackened or broken. This beautiful girl was physically not beautiful at all. However, Mama was crying because she realized that what she saw was God’s love through her. It was her heart. Someone that would willingly give up their shoes, walk an extra mile, love a shy little girl who would barely speak to anyone had found a friend in Mama. After all those years Mama just realized the beauty that she saw was her heart instead of her physical beauty.

Mama used that story to teach me a concept she told me over and over as I grew. She would say, “Sherian, Beauty is as beauty does”. The meaning of that is that it doesn’t matter if your hair, clothes or makeup are perfect. If your heart is pure and well meaning, living for Jesus, your beauty will shine through.

Mama’s blessing is great. She herself was a true beauty. Christ shined through her heart daily.

Looking back I’m not sure Mama’s friend died from a kitten bite or scratch. I’ve often wondered if that friend was an angel sent from heaven specifically for Mama; a special gift from God above. I will never know for sure. However, I do know that throughout my life when I have looked at people, remembered events or pondered over memories, I’ve tried to remember to see the beauty. Not everyone is created the same. Thank the Lord for that one! On the surface things may not be what they seem. Someone who is stinky, dirty, unkept and unattractive may very well be the most beautiful person you’ll ever meet. On the other hand, I personally, have met some very physically attractive people who are ugly hearted to the bone.

Overall, I believe the blessing Mama gave me in this story is that beauty is inside. It’s what makes those eyes sparkle and eyes shine. It’s also what makes red shoes match a dirty blue dress perfectly.