Perhaps it's because I was born in August and therefore a "summer baby", that I love this season so much. Growing up in Ohio, I learned to savor the long hot summer days , knowing even longer cold winter months would follow all to quickly on my favorite season's heels.
As a child, I felt sorry for kids who had winter birthdays. What fun could that have been? The possibility of celebrating my birthday at (gasp!) school was unthinkable. The chance of being cooped up inside the house, or having my celebration postponed due to waist deep snow and impassable roads, unfathomable!
No! I very much enjoyed the fact that my birthday always landed in the midst of summer break. Better still, our family often traveled over my birthday, so I frequently enjoyed celebrating the day in style, somewhere far away from home ... usually in the mountains, because by August, my parents would always be ready to retreat from the southern Ohio heat and humidity.
After 48 summers, heat and humidity still doesn't bother me a lot. I still very much prefer it to winter's frigid bite, and seek out the sun whenever possible. It's during the bleak winter months that I especially long for a climate where beaches abound and the temperatures never drop below 70 degrees!
I love summer. I miss it when it isn't here.
This summer has been different, and not in a very good way. It's almost July and not only have we not taken a real vacation in nearly a year, (that's a record!) but we've only been on the lake twice this season. To make matters worse, the schools here in the southern states resume the first week of August, which means that in a little over a month any possibility of taking a vacation will be at the mercy of the school system.
Unless something changes quickly, the summer of '09 will go down in my personal history book as more crazy than lazy or hazy.
I don't like that idea at all. I must do something to change it before it's too late!
As my father always said, "Where there's a will, there's a way."
I ... must ... find ... summer, while there is still time.
Later today, as soon as Mr. Taylor gets home from his Harley ride through the North Georgia Mountains, we will sit down and devise a plan with which we will escape for a few days. I hear Hawaii is nice, and neither of us have ever been there.
Not only is Hawaii nice, but it's also far, far away. Far, far away sounds very appealing to me right now.
Summer '09 will not be a lost cause.
Ready or not, here I come! If summer cannot come to me, I will go to it!
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Monday, June 8, 2009
Gremlin Years
My husband and I are not materialistic people. We are fortunate enough to have nice things and very much appreciate that fact, but as I said, we are anything but materialistic!
Nothing's ever really been handed to me in life, I've worked hard for all my nice stuff. Of course, that makes me appreciate it all the more. There was a time when I didn't have so many cool things and I've definitely not forgotten. Some people might even try to say those were the "good old days" or claim that things were so much simpler back then.
I beg to differ.
While I am not materialistic in nature, I do not believe my life would be better or simpler if I still drove a car that I could never be sure was going to get me (along with one toddler and one infant daughter) from point A to point B! Likewise, although I did appreciate and actually liked "government cheese", I am quite thankful I am no longer reliant on that sort of things to feed my family.
So, call them the good old days if you like, I will argue that these days are "gooder"
I wasn't much more than a baby myself when I had my first two children, beautiful daughters who rode around with me in an ugly old red AMC Gremlin that sometimes ran and sometimes didn't. I remember driving home through the back roads of southern Ohio late one night when I hit a bump and my headlights went out. It was also common for the radio to turn itself off and on, dependent on whatever terrain I happened to be traveling.
Yeah ... good times! Yikes!
Given the fact that cell phones had not yet been invented, "scary times" might be a better way to describe them.
At any rate, I thank God the "Gremlin years" are over and we've moved on to bigger, better things.
Could I "survive" if I had to go back to driving a junker? (In reality, "surviving" while attempting to maneuver a junker through Atlanta traffic would actually be unlikely ... but you know what I mean) Aside from that, the answer is "Of course I could!" I am a strong woman! My worth is not determined by the car I drive, or how much I pay for my mac n' cheese!
My husband and I proved this point last weekend when we took two of our grand kids out on the lake for the day. Our boat is very, very old. We bought it used three summers ago just because we wanted something ... anything with an operating motor that would get us onto the water! The real catch was, we were determined to purchase it with what cash we had on hand. Hence, the very old, very unattractive boat that despite it's appearance has served us well.
Well, last weekend we docked our old boat for the day in a cove that was full of very NICE boats. I'm talking about boats that would cost hundreds of thousands of dollars. A couple of them were likely worth well over a million bucks. Never the less, we pulled our little boat right in between them all and unloaded our gear.
I'm pretty sure we had every bit as much fun that day as the people in the big fancy boats. I will admit that sitting on the beach looking at the contrast between our boat and those that surrounded it did make me feel just the slightest bit like I did back in the Gremlin years ...even though I've moved on to the stage of my life where I am riding in an ugly old boat, not because I have to but because that's what I choose.
It's the choice that makes the difference!
I'm glad the Gremlin years have passed, but all the same, I cannot say I regret living them for a season. They served their purpose and I learned a lot for having endured.
My son, who was born several years post-Gremlin, has never ridden in a junker car. He's always been taxied around in style and doesn't have a clue about how his sisters were transported when they were younger. He'll turn fifteen next summer and I've already started looking around at cars for him. I hope to find something safe ... but possibly a bit humbling for him to drive. I figure we all need a few Gremlin years in order to appreciate the nicer things in life when they finally appear.
A few years down the road when he is a successful business man driving a fancy little sports car, he'll thank me for first allowing him a taste of the Gremlin experience!
Nothing's ever really been handed to me in life, I've worked hard for all my nice stuff. Of course, that makes me appreciate it all the more. There was a time when I didn't have so many cool things and I've definitely not forgotten. Some people might even try to say those were the "good old days" or claim that things were so much simpler back then.
I beg to differ.
While I am not materialistic in nature, I do not believe my life would be better or simpler if I still drove a car that I could never be sure was going to get me (along with one toddler and one infant daughter) from point A to point B! Likewise, although I did appreciate and actually liked "government cheese", I am quite thankful I am no longer reliant on that sort of things to feed my family.
So, call them the good old days if you like, I will argue that these days are "gooder"
I wasn't much more than a baby myself when I had my first two children, beautiful daughters who rode around with me in an ugly old red AMC Gremlin that sometimes ran and sometimes didn't. I remember driving home through the back roads of southern Ohio late one night when I hit a bump and my headlights went out. It was also common for the radio to turn itself off and on, dependent on whatever terrain I happened to be traveling.
Yeah ... good times! Yikes!
Given the fact that cell phones had not yet been invented, "scary times" might be a better way to describe them.
At any rate, I thank God the "Gremlin years" are over and we've moved on to bigger, better things.
Could I "survive" if I had to go back to driving a junker? (In reality, "surviving" while attempting to maneuver a junker through Atlanta traffic would actually be unlikely ... but you know what I mean) Aside from that, the answer is "Of course I could!" I am a strong woman! My worth is not determined by the car I drive, or how much I pay for my mac n' cheese!
My husband and I proved this point last weekend when we took two of our grand kids out on the lake for the day. Our boat is very, very old. We bought it used three summers ago just because we wanted something ... anything with an operating motor that would get us onto the water! The real catch was, we were determined to purchase it with what cash we had on hand. Hence, the very old, very unattractive boat that despite it's appearance has served us well.
Well, last weekend we docked our old boat for the day in a cove that was full of very NICE boats. I'm talking about boats that would cost hundreds of thousands of dollars. A couple of them were likely worth well over a million bucks. Never the less, we pulled our little boat right in between them all and unloaded our gear.
I'm pretty sure we had every bit as much fun that day as the people in the big fancy boats. I will admit that sitting on the beach looking at the contrast between our boat and those that surrounded it did make me feel just the slightest bit like I did back in the Gremlin years ...even though I've moved on to the stage of my life where I am riding in an ugly old boat, not because I have to but because that's what I choose.
It's the choice that makes the difference!
I'm glad the Gremlin years have passed, but all the same, I cannot say I regret living them for a season. They served their purpose and I learned a lot for having endured.
My son, who was born several years post-Gremlin, has never ridden in a junker car. He's always been taxied around in style and doesn't have a clue about how his sisters were transported when they were younger. He'll turn fifteen next summer and I've already started looking around at cars for him. I hope to find something safe ... but possibly a bit humbling for him to drive. I figure we all need a few Gremlin years in order to appreciate the nicer things in life when they finally appear.
A few years down the road when he is a successful business man driving a fancy little sports car, he'll thank me for first allowing him a taste of the Gremlin experience!
Thursday, June 4, 2009
What Should Have Been ...
Today is a difficult day. It should have been baby Luke's birthday. Instead of celebrating his birth, we are mourning our loss. He arrived too soon and was taken away only two weeks later.
The very unique circumstances surrounding Luke from his conception to the day he went away, made him all the more special to everyone who was fortunate enough to get to know and love him.
It almost seems like a bad dream ... a cruel joke. We were all blindsided by Luke's premature birth and death. Even when he arrived so incredibly small, he was very spirited and obviously a fighter. We never entertained the possibility that he would not survive. We refused to believe he would suffer any long term effects from his prematurity. He was a miracle. God had a wonderful plan and purpose for his life. We were prepared to sit back and watch that miracle unfold.
We did not get our miracle. We got a heartache, and an empty place deep within our souls that will never be filled.
Until a few months ago, we all expected that today would be Luke's birthday, but God knew differently all along. I suppose I could make myself crazy wondering ... asking "why"? and still never know the answer.
I ventured out this morning, driving in the rain and thinking about how both my daughters were born on rainy days. Luke should have been born this rainy day. Instead of making a simple trip to the grocery, I should have been making a trip to the gift shop to buy flowers and balloons and big "It's A BOY!" buttons for Luke's mommy and daddy to wear.
The run for groceries was otherwise uneventful, at least until time to check out and the cashier asked if I wanted to donate a dollar to the the Children's Hospital Fund. Without looking up, I said "No".
But then it occurred to me ...
"Yes ... yes, I would" I told the cashier. "Now that I think about it, I would."
He smiled and handed me a brightly colored air-balloon shaped piece of cardboard.
"We'll put these on display in the window." he informed me as he pointed at a blank spot near the bottom, "Sign it right there."
I took the pen from his hand and wrote LUKE! in big block letters, then drew a heart after his name.
Not exactly the kind of balloon I'd planned on buying for baby Luke today. I feel like he deserves so much more.
Hopefully the dollar I spent on that little piece of cardboard will go toward helping someone else's "Luke" story have a happier ending. That would be a good "should have been" birthday present, I think.
Unfortunately, it is little consolation for those of us who instead of celebrating, are mourning today and thinking about what should have been, but never really was to be.
The very unique circumstances surrounding Luke from his conception to the day he went away, made him all the more special to everyone who was fortunate enough to get to know and love him.
It almost seems like a bad dream ... a cruel joke. We were all blindsided by Luke's premature birth and death. Even when he arrived so incredibly small, he was very spirited and obviously a fighter. We never entertained the possibility that he would not survive. We refused to believe he would suffer any long term effects from his prematurity. He was a miracle. God had a wonderful plan and purpose for his life. We were prepared to sit back and watch that miracle unfold.
We did not get our miracle. We got a heartache, and an empty place deep within our souls that will never be filled.
Until a few months ago, we all expected that today would be Luke's birthday, but God knew differently all along. I suppose I could make myself crazy wondering ... asking "why"? and still never know the answer.
I ventured out this morning, driving in the rain and thinking about how both my daughters were born on rainy days. Luke should have been born this rainy day. Instead of making a simple trip to the grocery, I should have been making a trip to the gift shop to buy flowers and balloons and big "It's A BOY!" buttons for Luke's mommy and daddy to wear.
The run for groceries was otherwise uneventful, at least until time to check out and the cashier asked if I wanted to donate a dollar to the the Children's Hospital Fund. Without looking up, I said "No".
But then it occurred to me ...
"Yes ... yes, I would" I told the cashier. "Now that I think about it, I would."
He smiled and handed me a brightly colored air-balloon shaped piece of cardboard.
"We'll put these on display in the window." he informed me as he pointed at a blank spot near the bottom, "Sign it right there."
I took the pen from his hand and wrote LUKE! in big block letters, then drew a heart after his name.
Not exactly the kind of balloon I'd planned on buying for baby Luke today. I feel like he deserves so much more.
Hopefully the dollar I spent on that little piece of cardboard will go toward helping someone else's "Luke" story have a happier ending. That would be a good "should have been" birthday present, I think.
Unfortunately, it is little consolation for those of us who instead of celebrating, are mourning today and thinking about what should have been, but never really was to be.
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