My uncle Al, my Daddy's kid brother, passed away Friday night. His death is the last of his siblings, which makes me feel really weird. One of my mother's brothers survives, and after he passes, I and my siblings and cousins become the terminal generation. I don't think I'm ready for that.
I never knew my great-grandparents, but there were plenty of great-aunts and uncles around when I was little, and they were all ancient. All of my aunts and uncles, and their spouses, came to my parents' 50th wedding anniversary in 1991. And my grandma, who died in '93.
Now it's my turn to be in the oldest generation? Really? Already??
Not such a bad thing, I'm sure. I've been a great-auntie since 1984. My first grand-niece is grown-up and has a six-year old (so I guess I'm a great-great auntie!). And of course, I have eight grands so far.
And I love where I am. I feel I know some stuff now, and of course, being a grandma a very special thing. I also love having the "history" of fifty-some years. I remember when John Glenn took off in that Mercury space capsule. I know where I was when Kennedy was assassinated. I saw the Beatles "live" on the Ed Sullivan show in '64. I wore a muslin dress to my hippie wedding. And my grands think it's funny that I lived a fair part of my life without a computer and a cellphone. So, all in all, I think I'm Pretty. Cool.
I'm trying to balance this "numb" thing with my newish journey, going back to school, and coming to the end, next year, of my childraising. Charming says, in Tigger fashion, that "a whole new thing is opening up for us!!! We're going to have a great Next Phase of our lives!!!!"
Ya' can't stay down too long, with a Tigger in the house.
And would you say a prayer for my friend Annie? She lost her sister to cancer two months ago. She lost her mother ten days ago. Her oldest son got married yesterday, but not before her children found her husband dead in the living room when they awoke.
I have no words. This is one of those times when the Holy Spirit must pray for us, with "groanings that cannot be uttered."
Monday, May 14, 2012
(my beautiful Mother, on a tandem bike with her sister, in an apron, having a good time!)
I love National Apron Day!
I love the looks on people's faces when I'm sportin' a festive apron out in the marketplace. Some look away, like, "oh, my. I don't think she knows she's wearing an apron." Some are just curious, and when I tell them it's Wear Your Apron Day, they say, "how cool!"
Today it will be filling the gas tank (gas is at $3.62, and I'll get 20 cents a gallon off at Kroger), the dollar store, Wally World, and the florist, ordering a corsage for Alvin Fernald's prom date this Saturday. This evening will find my apron at the softball field. Three of my boys are playing on the church team. Spreading the apron love in my little corner of the world.
I finished my second semester with another 4.0 GPA. It's fun to challenge myself to get all A's. I wish I could have grasped this concept at age 17...
Now for summer. It's kind of scary how much Hope I am putting on this summertime. So many, many things on my list--decluttering, reading, quilting. I want to do them all, but just like any other time of year, the amount of things I want to do cannot physically be done. And I am an all-or-nothing girl (cue Ado Annie singing "with me it's all or nothin'...), so it is difficult for me to give anything up. But that just sets me up for frustration. Can you see the little hamster on the wheel, goin' nowhere fast?
I remember the summer between my seventh- and eighth-grade years. I decided I wanted to read 100 books that summer. (it was slightly easier because school years were 170 days as opposed to the 180 days they are nowadays, so we had twelve weeks of summer instead of ten.) Most of the books I read were about 325 pages long. I read 350-400 pages a day. And that didn't mean I didn't do plenty of other things, as well. Lazy days with my bestie Vicky. Bicycling, ice cream, and Dark Shadows on tv. But my weekly visits to the Bookmobile (before branch libraries, the library had bookmobiles that came to the neighborhoods) was the highlight of my week. The librarian soon learned what kind of books I liked, and made sure there were ten or twelve selections "just for me." I kept my list on the back of my bedroom door with several columns: date, title, author, and number of pages. I ended up with about 107 books, and was very, very proud of myself.
I was thinking about that summer the other day. It made me sad on one front, knowing I will most assuredly never be able to read 100 books in a summer again. (I can't even imagine doing that in a year--that would be nine books a month!) But that accomplishment reminds me that I do well when I keep a log of things I've done. So maybe the answer is to keep logs--one for reading, one for quilting, one for decluttering.
It. Just. May. Work. But, first I am making three costumes for the play/recital Blackeyed Susan is in in three weeks. She is dancing with a small Christian company, so the costume budget is limited. We got as many things as we could at the thrift store, but I'll be sewing for several days.
But then--watch out!