This Reminds Me

Archive for May, 2009

The Easter Bunny brought Julia a butterfly kit – the kind where you provide food and a shelter, and send off for the caterpillars.   Julia’s spent part of every evening worrying over those fuzzy little bugs – feeding them sugar water, making sure they were not too hot or too cold – putting them near the light when they needed it.   Tonight, we let them go.

Julia is convinced they’ll fly back to visit.

They may come back to the pond to drink.   San Antonio is in a prolonged drought.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how our family is changing with Rachel’s upcoming graduation from high school.  She’ll be only half-ours when she’s in college and after that – she’ll be responsible for her own food and shelter.  I’ve spent a chunk of every day worrying over this first baby bug – feeding her, making sure she wasn’t too hot or too cold – putting her near the light when she needed it.

Senior Awards last week – DECA State Competition in Fashion & Apparel, School Store Manager and Choir – Woot!  She was the very last of  300+ honorees (whew!), so, lots of applause!
Lois and Hannah are coming right up behind her, with Julia bringing up the rear.

You rear them to let them go.

But I, too, am hoping they “flutterby” often.

Welcome to This Reminds Me!

I’ve enjoyed hand-created cards, paperweights, refrigerator magnets, list holders and coupon books.  But never – before now – a song.

When Lois was little and the middle of our original three girls, she and I shared a “secret.”  I would whisper to her, “You’re in the middle, and I’m in the middle.”  And she’d respond, “You’re by Judy and David, and I’m by Rachel and Hannah.”

You’re in the middle and I’m in the middle and that’s where we want to be

You’re in the middle and I’m in the middle and that’s where we want to be

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Mom, look at what you’ve done

Look at what you’ve done for us today

Mom, we’ll never know how much you gave away for us

Mom we may not know it but you love us more than you say

Mom it’s all we can do to tell you today “Happy Mother’s Day”

You’re in the middle and I’m in the middle and that’s where we want to be

You’re in the middle and I’m in the middle and that’s where we want to be

And I truly am right in the middle of where I want to be.

And Happy Mother’s Day.

I don’t like animals.  Period.  Which is why I surprised myself enjoying the movie “earth,” to which Hannah and Julia dragged me last week.  The film followed three female-led animal families – polar bears, whales and elephants – on their annual migrations with their young.

Interestingly, predators typically attacked the youngest offspring most separated from the herd.  Visit the sidewalk near any orphanage in Eastern Europe, any bus station in the U.S. or any whacko religious gathering to confirm the life lesson there.

I’ve been pondering the African elephant migration and why it moved me so much.  Mother elephants (no males) surrounded their calves in a protective, impregnable circle when lions prowled.  As long as those strong females stood shoulder to shoulder in the daylight, their young were safe.   When darkness fell - the mothers were at risk.  In fact, one was lost – with a terrified night-camera stare and frantic last-dash as the entire pride of lions chased her down.

The elephant story line really got to me.  I think I understood it because – with no dad around – I, too, was blessed with a similarly protective cadre of females.  I loved and admired my mother and even when the darkness would dim her joy from time to time, I acknowledged the still-essential “her” that would argue HISD into the ground about David’s special education needs, or remind me about being inside when the street lights came on.

Mom, Judy and me in 1956,  Having a sister 11 years older is a wonderful thing.  I think Julia is very, very fortunate to have Rachel nine years older than is she.  Judy always had time for me – just like Rachel has had time for Julia.

My sister Judy always looked out for David and me – even when it was neither convenient nor realistic to expect her to do so.   Mom gave us life, but Judy taught us how to live.

I’m sure David’s one finger added a stunning harmony to Judy’s melody.  That’s the same piano I convinced balloon-tied David to climb atop and jump off of three times in a quest for flight – but that’s another blog.

My mom was always close to her three Hoosier sisters, so I’ve always been close to my aunts, too.  When at age six I whined to Aunt Zum that Judy was getting all these neat gifts for graduating high school and here I was graduating kindergarten and I was getting squat – Aunt Zum sent me a can of Avon Topaz bath power with a faux “jewel” on the lid.  Heaven!   When the teenage me went shopping with Aunt Neva, she bought the expensive pair of shoes and let me have the “second pair for a penny.”   Aunt Mary has decorated every home I’ve had with beautiful hand-painted ceramics, compensating for my peculiar lack of genteel taste.

Sisters Oklahoma (Mary), Wyoming (Wy), Nevada (Neva) and Arizona (Zum) in 1972.  How I loved to listen to their stories of Quaker church services, moonshinin’ uncles and wayward brothers.  When she was upset, I used to tease Mom by saying, “Oh, Wyoming – you’re in such a state.”  Now my Aunt Mary is the only sibling (of eight) still living, and I treasure our frequent phone visits.

Mom had great friends, too, like Jean – who was at the hospital the day I was born, and with whom I visit regularly online and by phone.  And Jo – who still remembers special occasions with calligraph’ed letters remarkable not only for their beauty, but also for their depth.  And friends who’ve gone on – Maxine, Dottie, Clara, Frannie – but not before they closed ranks around the young in their sphere of influence.  Mom’s friends shared countless notes, letters, scriptures, discussions, books and words of encouragement with me – to my eternal betterment.

I was also blessed with patient Sunday School teachers, dedicated Girl Scout leaders and excellent educators.  My high school yearbook sponsor – Marilyn Dodd – saw a literary spark in me and fanned it to flame.

So I understand those wary-eyed mama elephants – shuffling nervously – trumpeting and swatting the herd’s babies to keep them safe as night approached and the predators circled.  I understand keeping one eye on a dangerous world, and the other on children for whom you would die rather than sacrifice to it.

I understand it.  I lived it.  And I am grateful to the strong circle of women who closed ranks around me.

Happy Mother’s Day.  Too all who protect the young of the herd.

When Rachel, Lois and Hannah are practicing for school or church choirs, I like them to open their bedroom doors so I can listen.  That’s pure selfishness on my part.  I have nothing to contribute to their efforts.  They’re 100X better than I ever was.

When practicing “Shut De Do,” Hannah was amazed I knew the song.  I had to tell her:  I used to harmonize this one in Tuesday night sings and Thursday night devos.  My friend Donnette and I sang it along with Acapella at a city-wide gathering.  Baby, I know how to “shut de do.”

So leave yours open when you practice.  Mom loves it.

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