HALLOWEEN

Is Halloween your favorite holiday??

I saw an innocent..I'm sure...remark to that effect from a friend whom I know to be a good Christian. If that's true, its a real oxymoron. The two are completely incompatible. A Christian's favorite holidays would have to be Christmas...celebrating the birth of our Saviour...and Easter...celebrating the resurrection of our Saviour. And coat it how you will, Halloween is celebrating Satan!

I know I'll get a lot of flak over that statement. Through the years I've done the same as most everybody else. "There's no harm in letting the kids go trick or treating." "Sure, I'll go to your party and wear a witch's costume." But as I get more into God's Word, I realize I was wrong.

When I was a child in Kentucky, Halloween was not celebrated at all. Then I moved to Michigan and joined the crowd of kids out trick or treating. Next thing I know, I was going to Halloween parties, complete with costume.

Granny, bless her heart, was the only person I knew who kept telling me it was wrong to celebrate Satan's Day. And I pooh-poohed her. "Its just another holiday. There's nothing wrong with trick or treats or parties," I'd tell her. "I'm not bowing down and worshipping Satan." Her reply was, "you'd be better off spending that time reading the bible and praying for the people Satan is getting his clutches into."

How right she was! Now I'm not going to say anyone who celebrates Halloween is going to Hell. As Christians, the bible tells us it is "legal" for us to do most everything...but that doesn't mean we should. I think we should be teaching our children just what Halloween is instead of sending...or taking...them out trick or treating. Or if we do take them, take the time to explain to them what Halloween is...Satan's Day.Explain that we're not doing it to celebrate Satan, which is wrong...but to celebrate the harvest. Tell them they're "harvesting" treats. ..celebrating the fall harvest of foodstuff God has provided. Make it a day to celebrate God's goodness to us.

If you decorate your house, do it with pumpkins, corn shocks, hay bales, etc...signs of the fall harvest.....leave off the ghosts and skeletons....signs of Halloween. If enough Christians put God instead of Satan into the holiday, just think of the thorn that would put in Satan's foot!!

NEW POST

I can't believe I haven't written anything on here since April! A lot has happened this summer...well, maybe not so much.

I joined Statewood Baptist Church the week after Tammy was baptized...and I love it. For the first time in 30 years, I feel like I have a church home. Our congregation is small, but we are constantly praying for it to grow and I have no doubt that God will answer our prayers.

This was the hottest summer I can remember since the summer of '59 when I was expecting Buddy. That was a summer I'll never forget. We lived in Battle Creek in half of a house. Our bedrooms were upstairs and very little breeze came through the stingy windows. Of course we had no air-conditioning...hardly anybody did back then. Many nights that summer I'd take a pillow and blanket and sleep on the front porch.

I was in the hospital in July with pneumonia for 5 days. Tammy was in a month later with symptoms of a stroke. She's still not recovered from it. There was no lasting effects other than she is tired, weak and feels sick to her stomach all the time. The doctor says he doesn't know what caused it...blames it on the meds she was taking. Personally, I blame it on the Vitamin B-12 shots she was NOT taking. In researching a lack of B12 that's one of the things it can cause..stroke.

My computer went out on me and I bought a new laptop...even though I got the desktop computer fixed. Now I have a back-up!! The picture with this post was taken today with the built-in laptop camera when Tammy stopped by here with Teri's baby, Wyatt.

TAMMY TO BE BAPTIZED

Sunday (yesterday) Tammy formally joined Statewood Baptist Church and will be baptized by full immersion on Mother's Day! I'm so proud of her...and she is really happy. I haven't got together with her girls yet, but plan to do so soon to try to arrange a dinner or open house after the church service, which starts at 10:45 and is usually over by noon.

CHURCH UPDATE

I have now attended church with Tammy for three consecutive Sundays. I miss the music at Grace Christian Church, but not much else. The people at Statewood Baptist are among the friendliest and nicest I've ever met, anywhere-not just in church. So saying, looks like I've found a new church! Last Sunday the Associate Pastor preached. WOW! I was blown away. The senior Pastor is good...and I know I need to hear the AP preach more than once to form a judgement...but Pastor Bob was great. He preached the sermon like ones I grew up with! I am eagerly awaiting his next turn in the pulpit, probably once a month.

SINGING IN CHURCH

Tammy and I attended a difference church this past Sunday. It's a baptist church with a very small congregation...20 or so...of mostly Kentuckians. Very good sermon. Yet, I was not inspired. I don't know why. The people certainly were friendly and welcoming. I was raised in a Baptist church, so I had anticipated a "coming home" feeling. Instead, I had no feelings. I missed Grace Community Church, where, always, I can feel the Holy Spirit working even when their congregation is as small as Statewood Baptist's was.

To be fair, I will give Statewood another try this Sunday.

Anyway. The title of this blog is "singing in church." Because the Statewood Baptist church is very similar to the one I attended as a teenager. Where I, along with two friends, often..nearly every Sunday...stood up in front of the entire congregaton (seldom more than 50) and raised our voices to the Lord.

Now...those who know me, know I can NOT sing, and they also know that I love to. But Ruby Jones could. She had a strong, powerful voice...but she was shy. The only way she would sing was if her sister, Helen, and I sang with her. Helen was not bad, just not in the same league with Ruby. It didn't matter though. Ruby's voice drowned Helen and me out, anyway. Sometimes I just stood there and mouthed the words. Once Ruby started singing, she didn't hear Helen and me anyway...and she lost her shyness and let her voice soar. At times, I wouldn't even remember to mouth the words, because I was watching and listening to Ruby in total awe!

One evening the preacher came to call. He was trying to talk Mom and Dad into going to Church with us kids. A useless endeavor. At the time, Mom and Dad were not interested. They had not gone to church since we moved to Michigan four years ago. Anyway. As he was leaving, the preacher said to me, "Are you girls singing this Sunday?" At my affirmative answer, he said, "are you going to sing a solo? So low we can't hear you?"

Well....everybody laughed, but me. I was mortified. I guess my feeling showed. The preacher said to Mom, "Lorraine sings with Ruby and Helen, but we can never hear her."

It didn't matter what he meant. Whether it was that he wanted me to sing so low he couldn't hear me...or that I did sing so low he couldn't hear me. Either way, I was embarrassed...and that was the end of our trio! Actually, it was even the end of Ruby singing in that church because she wouldn't sing if Helen didn't and Helen wouldn't sing if I didn't!

Ruby went on to marry a preacher man and sang in church every week. I heard she was offered a record contract by a Nashville producer, but turned it down. A couple of years ago, my brother gave me a tape of Ruby singing hymns with a group. On one song she had a solo part...and I recognized her voice right away even though it had been over 50 years since I last heard her sing!

DYING EGGS

Today I babysat Kadyn for a few hours. We had soooo much fun. That little three-year-old could talk the socks off a preacher. He went on and on...every now and then I could recognize a word! I heard Mommy and Gramma a few times. I told Tammy that he was telling tales on them so it might have been good that I couldn't understand him.

While Tammy was gone, Kadyn and I colored, watched Spongebob, played with zsu-zsu pets. He started off across the table from me. Then he moved his chair next to mine. I said to him...you've been sitting in a chair next to me ever since you could sit by yourself. "A little baby?" he said..."yes, since you were about six months old." Shortly, he was in my lap...sitting on my knee, anyway. I said, "you're getting big to sit in my lap." "But Grammy, I been sittin in your lap since I was a little baby." ..."Yes, you have. But your feet didn't used to drag the floor." and then he giggled as only he can!

When he let Chancey out, he stayed out too. Then he came to the kitchen door and said, "It's hot, Grammy. You come out here, too." I knew why. I had told him to stay on the porch...and if I went out, he could go into the yard. And sure enough, as soon as I hit the porch, he said he needed his flip-flops!

Earlier, when he first got here, I told him we were going to color Easter eggs when Tammy got back. A lot of his conversation centered around that. If he asked once, he asked ten times, "When we gonna color the eggs?" later, a said, when your grandma gets back. And I had to explain what each thing in the kit was and what it did and how we would color the eggs. While we were outside, I watched him walking around the yard, looking down. He looked under the steps, behind the air conditioning unit, searched his power wheel car. I said, "Kadyn, what are you doing?" Are you looking for something?" He looked at me like I didn't have good sense, and said, "Grammy, if we gonna color eggs, I have to find them!" I lost it! I laughed so hard, I had a coughing spasm. I had to bring him inside and show him the pan full of hard-boiled eggs that we were going to color...otherwise, he'd still be looking for eggs because he wouldn't believe me when I tried to explain that I already had the eggs.

When Tammy got back, the first thing he said was, "Gramma, we color eggs now?" That child was so excited. Tammy was mixing up the dye and he was right at the sink trying to help her. We tried to show him how to use a spoon and gently drop the eggs into the dye...and to dip them out. No way! He plopped them in, splashing dye every which way...Thank God, I had thought to cover the table with a thick towel!

I gave him the wire egg dipper and showed him how to use it. He did...with one hand. The other hand went into the dye to place the egg on the dipper. Tammy said his mom would be mad because he had dye all over him. I told her to blame me for it. It was worth all the blame in the world to see how much he enjoyed dying those eggs! When the three dozen were done, he said, "Grammy, cook some more!"

As he took the eggs out of the dye, he placed them in the egg carton. When we were finished, he said, "I take them home." "No, no...leave them here until Sunday." "No, Grammy, I take them home!" I ended up giving him one dozen to take home and he was satisfied.

Cleaning him up afterwards was a trip! Tammy had him at the sink, scrubbing him with soap and dish soap. I was standing by him, supervising. He stuck his hand over the faucet...squirting water all over me...and giggled. A couple minutes later, he reached over and turned on the sprayer...getting Tammy that time...and giggled.

As he went out the door, carrying his eggs and goodie bag, I said, "I love you, Kadyn." "I love you too, Grammy." "You come back soon." "I will tomorrow."

He left one tired...but very happy...Grammy.

MEAN OLD LADY

Today I went to lunch at Golden Corral with Tammy and Kadyn. At the table next to us was this little old lady with a walker. She looked to be about 90 or so. She was with her son who musta been in his late 60's. And she was so mean to him!

When they first sat down, he offered to get her food for her. She bitchily said, "Why, I always have to do everything for myself." Then he said he had to go to bathroom and would be right back. While he was gone, she took her walker and got a plate. When she tried to fill it, she kept dropping everything off it onto the floor. Her son came back and took her plate. Nicely told her to go sit down and he'd bring her food. To which she replied, "Do I look like I'm helpless?" (yes, she did.)

All through the meal, she constantly complained and berated him. She didn't like the food he had brought (but she'd told him what she wanted), She didn't like the shirt he was wearing...She dreaded the drive home because he didn't know how to drive...on and on and on. I never heard her say one pleasant or nice word to him throughout their meal. I never saw her smile even once.

It was dreadful! I felt sorry for the poor son, and even sorrier for the old lady. Old age is hard enough without being bitter and unhappy. I think we have a choice there. We can choose to be bitter because we're old and unhealthy...or we can accept it and make the best of it. I would
much prefer to laugh than to cry. Oh, I'm not above feeling sorry for myself on occassion, but God help me if I ever treat anyone the way that lady treated her son!

DON'T LET THE THINGS YOU CAN'T DO STOP YOU FROM DOING THE THINGS YOU CAN DO. (my motto)

GRANNY

Lately, my grandmother (Granny), Polly (Fitchpatrick) Shepherd has been much on my mind. Kinda strange, don't you think, since she's been gone January 9, 1973 ..thirty-seven years, yet it seems like just last week when she called me and asked me to come to Ypsilanti for Thanksgiving...her last one. That, in itself, was an oddity. Although, Granny'd had a telephone since about 1955, I bet I could count on one hand all the times she had initiated a phone call. She didn't even like to talk on it when I called her...giving short answers to my questions.."how are you doing, Granny?"... (I'm fine)..."What have you been doing, Granny?" ..(nothing).

That's how our conversations on the phone always went. Me asking, her giving short, terse answers. I'd end by saying, "I love you, Granny. See you soon." (Okay) and she'd hang up.


So, you can imagine my surprise when I answered the phone the Sunday evening before Thanksgiving, and it was Granny. Our conversation went something like this, "Hello"..Lorraine, is that you?...Granny!! yes, it's me. How are you?....I'm okay. Thursday is Thanksgiving.....yes, I know.....what are you doing for dinner.....going to Mom and Dad's....why don't you come up and have dinner with your old granny?.....and, in utter shock at both the phone call and the invitation...I calmly said...Granny, I'd love to!....then she said, come early so you can cook dinner. I'll put the turkey in the oven and peel the potatoes, but you'll have to do the rest.....No problem, Granny!...then, Okay, bye. ...and she hung up while I was saying, bye, Granny, love you.



All my life, Granny was a central part of it. She was mom's mother and as much a mother to me as Mom was. Granny plays a big part in nearly all my childhood memories. How I loved staying overnight with her and sleeping in her bed. The security and love I felt while I cuddled against her warm, familiar body was beyond compare. Granny never said she loved me. But, I always knew it. Nobody else's face ever lit up the way hers did when she'd see me. Whenever, as I grew up, my life seemed to be in a turmoil, all I had to do was go to see Granny. Just being with her...where I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt..that I was unconditionally loved, soothed my soul and gave me peace. Granny didn't like to hug or be hugged. But she would stoically accept my good-bye hug, maybe patting me on the back, for a couple of seconds before she'd pull away and say...always, even after I was grown.. "You be a good girl, child, y'hear?"



I remember Granny. Granny was always an old woman! She was 48 when I was born and my earliest memories of her...when I was four or five, she seemed really old! She always wore a house-dress with an apron over it. Except for a slip under the dress, Granny never owned underwear...no panties...no bra. On Sundays, she wore her "church clothes"...always a dark blue or black dress, black shoes and nylons....if someone (usually me) was there to help her put them on. She was a big woman and could not reach her feet...so if she wore socks or hose, somebody had to put them on her feet. On Sundays when she had no help, she'd go to church bare-legged.



I remember Granny. When I was learned to read, Granny bought me my first book. After that, whenever I went to stay with her, she'd have a new book for me. She bought me Little Women. Treasure Island. Several bible story books. My first bible (white). Once, when I was ten years old, Granny had moved to Garrett, Kentucky. We lived on Bull Creek. Back then, that (now) twenty minute trip took hours on narrow, curving roads...up and down and around hills. Anyways, Mom's cousin who lived in Garrett, stopped to see us. When he left, I was with him. He promised Mom that he'd bring me back in two weeks. I was so excited...I hadn't seen Granny in over a year and the anticipation had me all antsy. I was a shy child and had never met Cluett before...so I didn't talk, except to answer his questions, all the way there. But he told Granny I was the noisiest, quietest child he'd ever seen! I guess my excitement ...both at going to see Granny and my first trip in a car (actually a truck with pigs squealing in the back).

Anyway. Granny had moved to Garrett with Darvin, her youngest child who was six years older than me, because she had no income after Granddaddy died. Her sister's family was quite well-off and they provided Granny with a place to live. They owned a grocery store and a department store...and let Granny have, free,whatever she and Darvin needed.



Well. She had told Cluett not to bother coming back if he didn't bring me with him. (so, Cluett told me on the trip there.) And, she had "mentioned" to her sister, cousins, nieces, etc that I liked to read. Dozens of books, magazines, catalogs, and funny-books (comics) were stacked on her kitchen table when I walked in. I was in heaven! And I made my way through all of them before the two weeks were up! When Cluett came to pick me up to go home, he had to forcibly tear me away from Granny, who patted me on the back and whispered, you be a good girl, child, y'hear. And I mean, he picked me up and carried me to the truck. I was crying so hard I couldn't talk...or walk! And I cried nearly all the way home. Cluett finally got me to stop crying by telling me he would, himself, make sure Granny and Darvin came to spend Christmas with us! And he did. For two glorious weeks.

Our house was a small two room house...kitchen and one great big room, divided in half by blankets hung across the middle, to give Mom and Dad a semblance of privacy. The other half contained two beds. Pauline and I shared one, Sue and Jimmy the other one. With Granny there, she slept with me and Pauline. Darvin slept with Sue and Jimmy. In later years, Mom mentioned those two weeks and how crowded it was. Not to me! Cuddling against Granny's back at night, seeing her sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee and talking to Mom when I got up was all I ever wanted in this world. When Granny helped me feed the chickens and slop the hogs, it wasn't a chore! And I talked to her. And she listened to me. You have no idea how great that was. Mom never had time or the inclination to listen to anything I had to say and only talked to me to tell me to do something, or about something I had done wrong. Not Granny. She, herself, never said much..a yes...a grunt...a hmmm...just enough to let me know she was listening and interested.

Darvin didn't stay around with us very much. Every morning he'd go with Daddy when Daddy went to work, taking the rowboat across the river. Darvin would spend the day with his friends,meeting Daddy at the river in time to come home. Many nights he stayed in town with friends or relatives. When he was there, I dragged him all over Bull Creek. I just had to show him my school, our church, where my friends lived. He told Granny I wore his ears out chattering all day! But even though he mostly wore a sneer on his sixteen year old face, he was a good sport about it.

Inevitably, the day came when Cluett showed up to take Granny and Darvin home. Once again, I was heart-broken, crying so hard I couldn't talk. When I hugged her, Granny patted my back and said, "you be a good girl, and God Willing, I'll see you this summer."

Little did she and I know, but the summer would see my whole family moving in with Granny when Cluett moved her to Estil.

From Granny I heard all the old cliches. "Granny, will I be pretty someday?" "Pretty is as pretty does." she'd say...or "beauty is only skin-deep"...or "Granny, maybe I'll marry a rich man when I grow up." her reply.."its easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to go to heaven." Granny taught me to embroider. "busy hands make no trouble." She taught me to sew..to repair a tear in my dress, .."a stitch in time, saves nine." Or when I complained about a slight from somebody, "you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar." When the kitchen was crowded with mom and my aunts cooking, and I'd ask Granny if she was helping..."too many cooks spoil the broth." When I say I wished something..."wishes are like pigs...they could fly if they had wings." (never made much sense to me). Ask her if she liked somebody, "makes no difference if I do or don't, God does." Others....stop squirming like a worm.....Eat with your mouth closed, the food looks better on your plate." "If you can't say something good about somebody, don't say anything." "Stop fighting with your sister, she'll be your best friend someday." In church, "shhhh stop fidgeting, God's watching." There were many many more. I think Granny taught me everything I didn't learn in school.



An early memory still makes me laugh. As I mentioned before, Granny didn't wear underwear. At bedtime every night, she'd say, "come on, child, let's go make a little water." We'd go outside, behind the house. I'd pull down my panties and squat. Granny would just spread her legs. How I wanted to be able to do that...go pee standing up. So, one night, anticipating, I snuck and pulled off my panties. When we went outside, Granny spread her legs. Imitating her, I spread mine. Instead of going straight down, like Granny's...my pee shot out to the front, soaking my dress!

Expecting a scolding, I peeked sideways at Granny...and she was laughing! We went back inside, she got me a clean dress to sleep in, and, still laughing, told Granddaddy what I did. In bed, snuggled between Granny and Granddaddy, he hugged me close and whispered, "you gotta grow some to fit your Granny's pants." "But Granddaddy, she don't wear none," I whispered back. Well, both he and Granny were laughing so hard the bed shook! I never did learn to pee straight down like Granny did.

The last time I talked to Granny was the day her son, Uncle Calvin was buried. Granny had been in the hospital a week and was unable to go the funeral. Before going home, I stopped at the hospital to see her.

She told me about this dream she had....insisting she was wide awake. But in the "dream vision" she was standing at the bottom of a green hill. She said it was the brightest, clearest sunlit day she'd ever seen. At the top of the hill stood a crowd of people. She could make out just a few of them, including her children who had died. But half-way up the hill was Uncle Calvin. He stopped, turned around, looked down at her, and held out his hand.

I had to leave the room before I broke down completely. I went out into the hall and cried in Steve's arms. When I was composed, I went back into the room. "Sorry, Granny, I had to use the bathroom." Well, she didn't believe me for a second! "Now, Lorraine, don't you be crying and carrying on over your old Granny. When I leave here, I'm going to a better place." "But I don't want you to go," I said. "I know you don't, but we all have to go sooner or later." I leaned over the bed, laid my head on her chest and said, "don't leave me, Granny."...bawling as hard as I ever have in my whole life. She patted my back and said, "God won't take me until my job here is done. Now your job is to take care of your family and raise them kids the way God wants them raised."

I said good-bye to my Granny that day. I knew when I left her, that her job here on earth was done. Oh, I saw her a couple of times after that, when she was in ICU...but couldn't talk to me. When she died just 3 weeks after uncle Calvin, through my sorrow I smiled, seeing her rushing up that hill to take Calvin's hand, and the two of them running up the rest of the way to be greeted by Granddaddy and Uncle Wilse and her two children who had died too young.

It won't be long before I'll be climbing that hill, myself, but at the top at the front of the crowd, I know Granny will be there to welcome me with a pat on the back, and saying "you were a good girl. Welcome home, child!"

AMERICAN IDOL JUNKIE

Okay...I admit it...I'm an American Idol Junkie!! But then, so is my husband and brother-in-law. We never miss an episode. And we argue, a lot, over our favorites.

After this weeks shows, I've picked my two favs. Crystal of the girls group...and Casey of the mens group.

Crystal just seems to glow...and she can sing, too. Casey...Oh my...he is Hot! Hot!...and he can sing, too. Down, Kara, down girl! Your fawning over Casey is annoying and I'm sure is offensive to the other Idol-wantabes. Even Casey looked embarrassed.

My over-all pick is Casey. I think he's the one to beat.

I was a tad disappointed in Andrew Garcia...from the auditions, I expected him to outshine all of them. Maybe next week.

EARLY MORNINGS

Lately, I've been sleeping in...getting up at 8 instead of 6. And I feel as if half the day is over already!

For you who don't know, I love the early hours of the day. My ideal morning is (from March to October)...up before the crack of dawn...grab a cup of coffee, my cigs :)..and the newspaper and ink pen...and a rag to wipe the dew off the table and chairs...and go out on the deck/porch. No other cup of coffee or cigarette tastes as good as that one, in the still-dark morning, while anticipating the first light of day, listening to the birds chirping wake up songs.

As the darkness fades, giving way to daylight, a calmness fills my soul. I can almost hear God saying "Let there be light." and my response is..."This is the day the Lord hath made, let us rejoice and be glad in it." This period, as the night slowly fades, is my time of prayer and reflection. My heart is so filled with God's glory, words trip over themselves as I try to express my praise and thanks. Oh, I know...I can ...and do...do the same thing sitting at my kitchen table, or even before getting out of bed...but that early morning outside commune with God is a very special time for me.

When the sun is up and it's fully daylight, I read my newspaper and work the daily crosswork. Most days, I'm finished by 7 and back in the house, at the table, for more coffee and cigs with the USA Today paper and crossword.

During the long, cold winter months I can only sit at the table, looking out the window, yearning for spring!

For years I watched the daybreak as I drove to work. How I yearned all winter (when I was at work before daybreak) for the spring...when I could leave home in the dark and arrive at work in the early daylight.

My wish for you, my friends and family, is that, during your morning rush to get to work or school, you will take a moment to look around, listen to the birds, watch the sun rise..and be amazed right along with me "How Great is Our God" who can perform this amazing rebirth every single day.

HURRY UP SPRING!!!!

FACEBOOK

I'm really enjoying Facebook. I am in touch with many people, friends and relatives, that I have lost contact with through the years. And getting to know some great-neices that I hadn't seen since they were little girls. Now they're beautiful young women.

Sometimes it feels like I have a full-time job. I farm on Farmville, Farmtown, Country Living, Island Paradise...cook on Cafe World and Restaurant City...raise and train fish on Happy Aquarium...take care of pets on Petville and Happy Pets....and build cities on My Town and My City. Wheh! Lots of work...but very entertaining.

So, if you have nothing better to do, join me!

SELF-PITY

Normally, I have a pretty upbeat attitude about growing old and all my major and minor medical problems. But, last night, I gave in to self-pity and wallowed there for awhile. It wasn't a major crisis that brought it on. That's why it took me completely by surprise.

My youngest son called and said they would be in Bourbon and were going to a basketball game there Friday night to see my nephew play for Tippecanoe High School against Triton High School, where my son used to teach and coach basketball. He asked if we'd like to join them. Now, I would like nothing better than to see my son and his family..and I love basketball. But, due to my declining health, I had to say no. Number one, I can not drive that far, especially at night. I have a medical condition where my muscles cramp up...legs, feet, toes, chest...neck...when stretched or twisted (as in turning to check for traffic). Second, my night vision is not what it used to be. And, walking...forget it! I'm lucky to walk from the car into the house and even then I'm in terrible pain and short of breath. My brother-in-law has only one eye..and its not real good...so him driving is out. My daughter has to babysit her three year old grandson, so she can't go.

When I got off the phone, I was all choked up..lump in my throat, tears flowing. And it wouldn't stop. I went to my bedroom and gave myself permission to have a good cry...which I proceeded to do. When I decided I'd had enough wallowing...after a half hour or so, I got up and tried to play on the computer...but my eyes continued to leak and I couldn't see the screen nor concentrate on what I was looking at. Despite all my efforts, the self-pity had taken over.

After two hours...loong pitiful me hours, I knew it was time to let go and let God. Since my favorite praying position...on my knees by my bed...is no longer an option, I curled up on the bed and told God I needed His help. I told him I know He has given me these afflictions for some reason known only to Him and most of the time I can accept it..that He knows what's best for me. I prayed for better acceptance. I asked Him to rid me of this miserable self-pity. And you know what? Suddenly, I realized my mind was calm. My tears had stopped. I ended my praying with all the praises of thanks I could think of...and at the end threw in "God, you have answered my prayer almost before the words were out of my mouth..now, if it's all the same to you, how about throwing in some healing, too? Then, even though I know God knows my body even better than I do, I listed all my ills, aches and pains.

Well...I don't feel any healing of my afflictions, which only means God still is not through with me. But, Praise The Lord, He did take away the paralyzing self-pity almost before I asked Him.

NEW GREAT GRANDCHILD

Today I got to hold my newest...sixth...great-grandchild. He's a little over two weeks old, but due to illnesses and weather, today was the first time I've met him. He's wonderful! So tiny ..so perfect.


Since his birth, I've been told he looks just like Grant did (his two-year-old big brother), that he looks even more like his dad, Anthony than Grant did. But when I look at him, I really don't see anybody but him. And that's my wish for him. That he will grow up to be himself...and the best himself that he can be.

Maybe he'll be president and preside, with God's help, over a peaceful nation. Maybe he'll be a doctor, prescribing God's love along with his medicine. Maybe he'll be a scientist and, with God's guiding hands, discover a cure for the common cold. Maybe he'll be a truck-driver, riding with God, delivering necessary material and goods to a needy world. But whatever he chooses, I pray that he will always rely on God's love to make him the best he can be.

Welcome to my world, Wyatt Glenn Knudson.

GOODBYE, GARY. REST IN PEACE!

Today is the funeral and cremation of a good man. When I started writing this, I tried to think of more adjectives to describe Gary Burke. But none of them are better than "good man."

I haven't seen Gary often since 1965. He was one of my brother's best friends from Belleville, Michigan, in their early teen years and stayed close through the years. I sometimes saw Gary and his wife Linda when they visited Jim and Loretta. Always, without fail, his conversations centered around his children and grandchildren. I got the impression he was a very family-centered man.

For a few months, after he got out of the Army, in 1965, Gary was a frequent visitor at my house. My children, Tammy and Buddy,(6 and 7 at the time) adored him. In fact, Tammy insists he was her first crush and wanted to grow up and marry him. Gary developed a crush on me and I worried about "crushing" him when I gently explained my feelings toward him were very brotherly. Unforturnately, that ended his visits and I missed him horribly. I was so happy for him when he married Linda Jones...a younger sister of my own teen-age best friend, Helen.

My brother, Jim, is devastated. He went to see Gary just a week before he died of cancer. We planned to attend the funeral, but the weather has prevented that.

The world has lost one of its brightest lights and is a poorer place without Gary Burke in it.

Rest in peace, my friend.

PANTS ON THE GROUND

I just got home from Meijers...grocery shopping. I'm still laughing! This young man helped me out, putting the groceries in my car.

Neither my driver side nor passenger side doors will open from the outside. I asked him to reach in from the back to open my door. When he did, his pants slipped down...below his cheeks! Even though he was wearing long johns (Thank God) I could still the shape and pink of his derriere. Then...OHMY GOSH... he stood up and turned around...and his pants fell below his knees! All I could think of was...Pants on the Ground....and said it out loud. As he pulled up his pants he said...guess that's my theme song now....and he started singing it.....saying ...looking like a fool with my pants on the ground. I was laughing so hard I was crying. When I got into the car, I pulled out my cell phone. He, still laughing as well, said ...are you calling the newspaper??
That set me off even more. I sat there and watched him bop back towards the store...still singing Pants on the Ground.

A LITTLE ABOUT NOTHING

I just read my daughter-in-law's blog about her adventure/misadventure with coloring her hair and while I was laughing, I couldn't help but recall all the misadventures I've had over the years.

The first time I colored my hair, I was about 23 and my hair stylist talked me into going darker. My hair was naturally ashy brown...fine and fly-away that could only be tamed by lots of teasing and hair-spray. When she finished, it was a medium brown. Not too different from my own hair in color...but ohhhh, the texture! The dye had tamed my untamable hair! I could put it back in my ususal style, a french twist, and it would stay all day with just a bare whfffff of spray. And nobody noticed. So, the the next time, a few months later, I went darker. This time a beautiful, rich mahogany color. And everybody noticed.

A few months later, my cousin with whom the kids and I shared a house, came home with a bottle of Clairol. She wanted her auburn hair the same shade as mine. So, we did it. And since there was some mixture left over, we put it on my hair. OHHHHHH big mistake! First, I did Avanelle's hair in rollers and put the dryer on her head while I rolled mine. When it was my turn for the dryer, Avanelle sat on the floor in front of me while I combed and styled her hair. It was beautiful! The dark brown brought out the auburn tint even more. I could hardly wait to see mine! When my hair was dry, Avanelle styled it and kept saying things like...you look so good with dark hair...dark hair makes your complexion look so creamy....I was on pins and needles waiting to go to the bathroom mirror to see it for myself. And I'm sure they heard my scream all the way to Ann Arbor! It wasn't the gorgeous dark auburn of Avanelle's...but BLACK!
With my pale skin, I looked like a dead person! The bad thing was, I had to live with it. Back then...I don't know about today...we had to wait several months between colorings because the chemicals could seriously damage your hair. So, what I did for the next three months was use Avanelles make-up. It was much darker and redder than what I had been using...and I had to cover everything with the base...face and throat.

I managed to wait three months...instead of the recommended six..and had my hair stylist redo the color...against her better judgement, I might add. The best I can say about that is it's a good thing it was March. People thought I had dyed my hair green on purpose! At my next hair appointment, Janine, the stylist said she had a gift for me and gave me a gorgeous brown wig! For six months whenever I left the house, that wig was on my head!

When the six months waiting period was up, my girlfriend Carol, offered to do my hair. She had trained as a hair-stylist but after working a few months in a salon, decided she didn't like the job after all. Anyway, she bought a light brown/ash blonde color kit and proceeded to do my hair.
That was how I became a blonde for over 20 years! Evidently, she left it processing too long...and my hair came out a lovely strawberry blonde and I loved it! With my coloring, it was not only looked very natural but enhanced my coloring. Who knew that I was really born a blonde..with light brown hair.

NEW YEARS RESOLUTIONS

Now that we are well into the new year, I can write about why I, long ago, resolved never to make New Years Resolutions. For one thing, I never carried them out. I had this need, I guess it was, to go for the toughies. Oh no, my resolutions were not to stop smoking or to lose weight. Each year I would resolve to stop losing my temper...to stop worrying about whether someone liked me or not...to stop feeling intimidated or inferior, to laugh more, worry less.

Needless to say, at least one...sometimes all of them...were broken before the end of January. One year, to that list, I added the resolution to read the entire bible again. I say "again" because I had read it through at least twice by the time I was out of high school. I made a plan...to read a chapter every day. I didn't follow that plan, though, often reading several chapters at a sitting. And, by the end of May, I had completed the task. And, was I proud! I told everybody who would listen. I had finally carried out a New Year's Resolution.

The hard ones kept eluding me. The temper was, I thought, the easiest one. But...I forgot to add pouting to the list. So, instead of flaring up and speaking my mind, I became a world-class pouter. The only thing I can say in my defense is...if whoever I was mad at left me alone for awhile...and let me pout...I soon got over it. It has never been part of my make-up to stay mad for very long or to carry a grudge. Once I was over it, it was as ...and is...as if it never happened. I have never been able to understand those people who can keep a grudge...and a mad...going for months, even years.

And, I've never been able to not care if someone likes me or not. Even if it's someone I don't like...go figure! As for feeling inferior or easily intimidated, that's so ingrained into my character, I doubt even a psychiatrist could help me change. It probably stems from growing up poor and Mom's constant warning "don't act like white trash." Consequently, I always felt I was white trash and had to fool people into thinking I wasn't.

As for laughing more, I have always tried to find the humor in any situation. Worrying? I'm a first-class worrier! I could probably give lessons.

If my child was out past curfew, my fingers actually itched to start calling hospitals to find out where he/she was after the horrible accident I could imagine he/she had been in. One night when my daughter was over an hour late, I actually did call the hospitals in Bremen, Mishawaka and South Bend, as well as the police departments.

When my son played football, I had to be at every game. When he got hurt, I had to be there to ride in the ambulance to the hospital! Then of course, the only time he did get hurt and have to go to the hospital, I had to follow the ambulance. And I won't even talk about when both boys went away to college! Its a good thing that we, as human beings, are adaptive. After the first couple of months I did relax and stop waking up in the middle of the night imagining them hurt and bleeding.

From my now lofty age of Seventy, I have learned a few things. Number one, is..we raise our children the best we know how and pray it was good enough. We have to let them go. One of the most memorable sermons Pastor Bob Hueni ever preached, to me, was about how our children belonged to God..we were just caretakers. God had entrusted them to us to raise, train, and guide into adulthood. They were not our possessions. We even had an emotional service where we gave our children over to God..or back to Him, while promising to raise them the way He wanted. Joey was four years old at the time and has belonged to God ever since. I didn't make the same emotional hand-over with Tammy and Buddy. At the time they were teen-agers and had, themselves, given their lives to God.

Another thing I have learned is, to remember yesterday, plan for tomorrow, but to live for today. This is harder than it sounds. To remember yesterday means to not forget the lessons we've learned. To plan for tomorrow means taking care of our families, our homes, cities, states, country. Living for today is the hardest. While living for today, you can't forget yesterday and tomorrow. But you must let the people closest to you know how you feel. A hug, a touch, a loving glance, a wicked wink, ...and a smile across the room...all let that special person...a child, a spouse, a sibling, a parent...know that you love them. Oh, don't forget the words, they're important too...but its the silent actions that warm our hearts. Live for today by being courteous and respectful to other people...more than just a polite Thank you and You're welcome. Say a few words to lift the spirits of the harried sales clerk. Tell the frazzled mother of a toddler what a lovely child she has. Pay the check for the elderly couple in McDonalds counting their pennies. I'm convinced that kindness and consideration are contagious. If you show kindness to someone unexpectedly, more than half of them will pass it on.

I remember once, years ago, in the grocery store I didn't have enough money to pay for all the groceries in my cart. And the utter embarrassment I felt at having to pick through the items deciding what to keep and what to put back. A lady behind me told the clerk to bag all of it and she would pay the difference. I might add that I had no extraneous items. Milk, bread, balogna, hambuger, hotdogs, and a few cans of vegetables. Anything I didn't keep would mean less for me and my two kids to eat that week. So, even while embarrassed and overwhelmed at the generosity, I was extremely grateful. Over the years since then, I have several times, found myself in the shoes of that kind lady..and have followed her example. Just as I'm sure some of the people who I have helped out, have...and will...help others in the same circumstances.

Living for Today. Passing it on. Praising God.