A Laugh a Day Keeps Whatever Ails You Bearable

Saw this today and had to share. It's called I am my own Grandpa.


Many, many years ago when I was twenty-three, I got married to a widow who was pretty as could be. This widow had a grown-up daughter who had hair of red. My father fell in love with her, and soon the two were wed. This made my dad my son-in-law and changed my very life. My daughter was my mother, for she was my father's wife. To complicate the matters worse, although it brought me joy. I soon became the father of a bouncing baby boy. My little baby then became a brother-in-law to dad. And so became my uncle, though it made me very sad. For if he was my uncle, then that also made him brother to the widow's grown-up daughter who, of course, was my stepmother. Father's wife then had a son, who kept them on the run. And he became my grandson, for he was my daughter's son. My wife is now my mother's mother and it makes me blue. Because, although she is my wife, she's my grandma too. If my wife is my grandmother, then I am her grandchild. And every time I think of it, it simply drives me wild. For now I have become the strangest case you ever saw. As the husband of my grandmother, I am my own grandpa!!

This is the day the Lord has made!

I love Sunday's. Today was an especially good one.
Hope yours was special too.

I'm taking a break. See you all later.

Lettermen's Top Ten

And the Number One reason that being single doesn't always suck is:

Experiencing God in the Nature

I meant to write this post 3 weeks ago as a continuation of the last one but haven't had time to do much blogging.

The retreat I attended was a lot about experiencing God all around us. I needed to experience God because each one of Paula's sessions literally drained me. . As our Saturday afternoon session ended, Paula asked us to go back to our rooms and experience silence. We could journal, sit quietly and do nothing, take a walk, or even a nap. She suggested we do more than one thing. We were supposed to experience God in this silence.

I began by sitting quietly and then I journaled some thoughts before going outside for a walk around the grounds. The day before I had walked around, and was especially attracted to the statue of Jesus in the Agony Garden, so I decided to stop there first.

I was amazed at how piercing the eyes of a marble statue could be.

I reached down and felt Jesus’ thumbnail. The sculptor did such an amazing job, that you could actually feel ridges on it. As I started to walk away, all I could hear was Jesus saying the same thing he said to the apostles “Could you not keep watch for one hour?” I laughed but decided that maybe I should sit down on the bench for a while.

I guess I thought I was going to experience some powerful revelation or something, but instead it was just a nice peaceful resting period.

However, when it was time to leave I went and stood beside Jesus again. When I put my hand over his, my fingers went inside his folded hands. His hand was warm from the sun but for that instant, it was as though I was holding hands with God. I can’t describe the incredible feeling that came over me. It sounds silly, but it had quite a profound effect on me.

After dinner we headed back for the evening session. At the end, Paula again instructed us to leave in silence, but this time stand outside the building, and experience God in the nature surrounding us.

The sun had just gone down, but there was still enough light in the sky that I could see the clouds. As I turned my head, I noticed a cloud in the perfect shape of a dove. I looked around and no one was looking at it. I wanted to shout "Everybody Look." But then I realized it wasn't meant for everyone, it was my own message meant just for me. God was communicating to each of us in his own special way. For me the dove was God saying good night on a perfect day. “Peace”! he whispered in the cloud.

Both times that day, in the silence, God’s message had come through loud and clear and each time it was difficult to just walk away. I stayed out there for a long time that night watching the cloud until it dissipated. When I was a little girl and my parents tucked me in at night they would always kiss my cheek and gently tap their finger on the end of my nose. A special gesture to let me know how much I was loved, how much I was cared for . And that night in the cloud God kissed my cheek and tweaked my nose to let me know how much he loves me and how much he cares.

How Do I Love Thee...Let me decorate your grave!

I have wonderful Memorial Day memories of times spent with my mom and paternal grandmother. Every year my sister and I went with them to decorate the graves of my maternal grandparents. Before leaving we would pick lots of lilacs and when we arrived at my Grama's house we would pick flowers from her snowball bush and mix the two together.

The graves were on a hill and between a tree and a tall bush and there was a water faucet nearby. Even with good markers like that it was hard to find the grave because of the flat head stones. We made an adventure trying to see who could find them first.

When we finished decorating the graves we drove downtown to Flint Original Coney Island for takeouts.

Decorating the graves was important to my mother. She and my Aunt Luella differed on the practice. I remember Aunt Luella saying "I don't want people giving me flowers after I'm gone. If you want to give me flowers do it now while I can appreciate them."

My mother laughed and told her "You better not die before me then, because I'll decorate your grave." Every year after Aunt Luella died we took flowers to her and every year my mom would laugh while a tear rolled down her cheek and say "She's probably rolling over in her grave."

After my mother died, my dad took on the job. A few months before he died Dad and I went to the cemetary together for the last time. We went to 4 cemetaries and hit 17 graves that day. We no longer had lilac and snowball bushs to pick from so we bought cut flowers and potted plants and flags for those who were Vets.

When the grands were old enough I started bringing them along when ever they could come. Last year we looked for my grandparents grave for 40 minutes. They'd cut down old trees and planted some new and it threw me off. The boys wanted to quit but by then I was determined I would find it or else.

I called them over to me and we held hands and I prayed outloud "Father, we want to show our respect for our grandparents and place some flowers on their grave but we can't find them. If its your will Father would you help us, so we can move on. I kid you not, when finished my grandson AJ took 3 steps and said "Here it is Grama." What a wonderful lesson to show them the power of prayer.

I've decided to decorate the graves differently this year.

I believe that my loved ones are joined with God in heaven, and I believe they see the world now with "God Eyes." They care way more about humanity then whether or not their grave is decorated with flowers. In their honor I have sent a check to Abortion Alternatives and to the East Side Soup Kitchen.

If you've read this blog you know how much I love my husband and my parents. But just incase someone questions my love because I've failed to show it on Memorial Day, I'll leave this sign at their grave. (click on pic to read message)

60 is only a number

Tuesday was my 60th birthday. Oh man do I hate saying that I am 60.

I can still remember sitting at my mother and dads kitchen table on my tenth birthday. For some reason I calculated that in the year 1999 I would turn 50.

"I hope I die or that the world comes to an end before then." I told my shocked mother.

"Why on earth would you hope that", she asked?

"Because 50 is old and I don't want to be old, and I don't think God ever meant for us to have to go around saying 'Its the year twenty hundred'"

My mom cracked up and reminded me of that story every year on my birthday. Even when I was grown, she would call me up and sing Happy Birthday and tell me how many more years before it would be twenty hundred. Laughing she'd tell me "You better make sure you enjoy life now and not worry about getting older".

Just a month after my 5oth birthday I was given a cancer diagnosis and I began to wonder if God had been trying to tell me something all those years before. But I'm still here and I have learned to adapt (quite reluctantly) to saying Two thousand and nine etc.

But being 60... now that's a different story. I am my grandmothers age. Where did my youth go?

Oh well, for some reason I'm still here so I better do like mom said said enjoy life now and don't worry about getting older. After all 60 is the new 40 right?

Tuesday, in addition to being my birthday, it was our monthly widows get together. With Easter and the trip to Boyne Mountain with the family, I just didn't have time to do much in the way of planning a meeting. When I sent out the meeting reminder I wrote:

Easter is a time when we remember the miracle of the Resurrection and as
widows I think this is the time when we can truly identify with Jesus. Not
just identifying in his suffering, but also in his coming back to life. Do
you remember when you started to feel that life held meaning again after your
husband died? Was it something someone said to you, a place you went, or
something you did? Let’s share with each other our own Resurrection
story. I know that’s a tough question and everyone may not have an answer,
but if you do, we’d love to have you share it with all of us.

I got my own story ready to share and as I threw some pink plastic table clothes and my teacup and dish to pass in the car and headed down to the meeting I whispered "I got nothing God, no inspirational way to start the meeting, no joke to end the night with - nothing....if this meeting is going to be a sucess it's all up to you cuz I got nothing.

We had a very small meeting that night. One women was there for the first time. She drove over 30 miles to be there. She's been widow for two years. Last month at the lay ministry class I was telling some women about our group. One told me she thought our group was just what her sister in law T needed and would she mind if she gave her my phone number.

Actually I was surprised when I recieved the call from her. "I don't need to come because I'm grieving" she told me over the phone, "but I just want to be around people who understand"

Only 10 women attended the meeting that night, but it was an absolutely perfect night. The sharing that took place was unbelievable. It was a very intimate time together. And perhaps my favorite meeting of all times.

One of my friends commented how her husband had always made her laugh. She shared her husbands dying request.

Before her husband got sick ,they discussed the idea and agreed, that they would both be cremated. They instructed their children that after the surviving spouse died both of their remains were to be combined and placed in one urn.

Several years later the husband was diagnosed with cancer and given a few months to live. As the family gathered around his death bed the man called them all closer and reminded them of their promise to combine the ashes. But.....he said slowly, hardly able to breathe,......whatever you do, make sure I'm on top of your mother!

She told us how his last words filled with laughter are her life line in this world. Laughter can get you thru the tough times. Remind yourself of times you've laughed when all you want to do is cry.

Such wise words.

That's it for this post. I just want to thank God for coming thru again, and showing me for the millionth time that when I got nothing he's usually up to something

Happy Easter

What a beautiful Easter Day it was.






The sun is shining and the grass is greening up and the temperature is warming up nicely.




Today Church was packed. All the regulars plus a lot of Christmas and Easter church-goers. It was standing room only but I didn't mind because two of those C&E attendee's were sitting right beside me and are part of my immediate family.

Years ago I dressed my kids in their Easter finest and paraded them in to church and prayed they'd sit still and keep quiet so as not to embarass us.

I realized as one of them sat beside me this morning how much different today was then all those Easter mornings of long ago. Embarassment was the furthest thing from my mind. Instead my prayer was that God would be able to touch his heart in a way that would draw my child closer to Him. That somehow my son would see how much better life is with God then without Him.

I need to remember he's God's son too, and as much as I want that to happen, God has a handle on it and desires it more than me.

Since today is a celebration of the Resurrection I'm hoping that soon another kind of resurrection will take place.

On a different note...I took pictures of the grands Easter presents and baskets, but didn't realize until after they had gone home that I didn't get any picture of them opening everything.

School break was the week before Easter this year. It just doesn't seem right that the boys have to go back to school tomorrow and that they won't be here this coming week. Some habits are hard to break. But even though its over, Easter break has been just great.

I hope you all had a wonderful Easter too.

Happy 4th Anniversary

Last night I got together with my special peeps to celebrate our 4th anniversary.

When I ordered the cake to commemorate the occassion, the girl asked if there was anything in particular I wanted on the cake. I asked for a teacup, since its the symbol for our group.

I was imagining it to be a dainty little cup, but instead its a little more like a soup mug. But it was so cute with the tea bag and all. And everyone gave it the awwww sound. You can decide for yourself what the awww really meant.

I tweaked a poem I found on the internet to make it pertain a little more to the group. (Sorry Jennifer if I took too many liberties with your poem. ) I think it captures the essence of our circle.

The Treasure of a Teacup

There’s a teacup and saucer that sits upon the shelf
Reminding me what I’ve been through
And I smile despite myself

The countless times I felt despair
I poured a cuppa tea
And had some quiet time alone just
My teacup, God, and me.

God gathered friends to share their hearts,
With a teacup in their hands…
How much their fellowship has meant,
Only He, can understand!

So disregard the faded roses,
The gold trim worn and smudged;
Those things increase its value
For through it a heart was touched!

Jennifer M Seest

Since it's almost Valentines Day, each woman was supposed to bring a Valentine and put it in our special Valentine basket. Then during the sharing time we picked a valentine out of the basket and read it to everyone. Some were funny some were a little off color. A couple were just your typical kid valentines.

After sharing the valentine each woman told a reason her husband had been her special valentine. Some shared marriage proposals, or a special valentine gift. My good friend AC told us about her husband sleeping so sound that they had to send the police to his house to wake him up so he could get to his wedding.

He grabbed his suitcase and rushed out the door and it wasn't until they unpacked the suitcases when they got to New York for their honeymoon that he realized he'd grabbed an empty suitcase.

Some may think the marriage would never have lasted but they were married 40+ years when he died.

I liked watching the facial expressions of each woman telling her story. There was always that twinkle in the eye and a smile and as we moved on to the next woman, I would glance back and notice how each womans eyes held that far off look as the relived a happier time.

One of the things that I love doing is buying roses for the party. Sams always has an affordable price so I can use them to decorate the table with bud vases and put a large vase of roses on the cake table.

When the party is over, I give each woman a rose to take home.

I had no idea how much of an impact this would have the first time I did this. You wouldn't believe the tears I saw in their eyes as they took a rose. I kinda had a inkling of what "The Bachelor" must feel when he hands a rose to a women vieing to be his wife and asks "will you accept this rose."

Here we are filling our faces and conversing during the meal. We are never at a loss for things to say.

So Happy Anniversary First Tea @ Five. Thanks for blessing my life in a way I could never have imagined.

Strange how a teapot can represent, at the same time,

the comforts of solitude and the pleasures of company.

~Author Unknown

Almost As Bad as a Boy named Sue

I hated my name growing up.

All my friends could buy bicycle license plates, or barrettes or cute note paper with their name emblazoned across it.

But, no not me!

Once in a great while I stumbled across something, but it was always spelled LuAnn instead of Luanne.

Not only was I disappointed with my name for lack of bling, but I can't begin to tell you how many times my friends and relatives misspelled it. Finally in the 8th grade I decided that if I couldn’t beat them, I might as well join them and embrace what they were doing, and I began spelling my name differently on each school paper I turned in.

One time I wrote LuAnn, the next LouAnn, then Louann, Louanne, LouAnne, LuAnne, Luann and once even LooAnn.

My teacher, Sister Marcine , didn't find this exercise one bit amusing, and when each paper was returned, the normal C+ grade was accompanied by a large red pen circle around my name. Finally, deciding that enough was enough, Sister Marcine made a comment that went something like this:

"Had you been paying as much attention to your
lessons as you have been to creating a new spelling for your name the last few weeks, perhaps your grades wouldn't have fallen so dramatically. Stop this foolishness NOW, and get busy!"

My parents agreed wholeheartedly, and not wanting to risk having every privilege taken away from me, I agreed cease and desist the name changes.

High School was even more of a drag when it came to my name.

Whenever Barb, my BFF, would walk down the hall, guys would sing Ba Ba Ba Ba Barbara Ann, to her.

And to Peg they would sing "Peggy Sue, Peggy Sue, oh how my heart yearns for you, my Peggy my Peggy Sue."

Then there was Diane who was serenaded with “Oh please stay by me Diana”, and Judy heard, “Well now its Judy’s turn to cry Judy’s turn to cry, Judy's turn to cry i i” , and finally my friend Laura often heard, “Tell Laura I love her, tell Laura I need her, Tell Laura not to cry, my love for her…will never die.

It seemed all sooooo romantic back in high school.

Even my boyfriend Ed had a song "Eddie My Love". Perpetually late for a date because he was either hunting or milking cows, I often serenaded him before a date by singing “Please Eddie, don’t make me wa ait too long.”

But alas there was no song sung about Luanne, or even LuAnn for that matter (sigh) I was doomed to live a life void of romanticism.

But finally circa the 80's, the group Foreigner came to my aid, (just a tad bit late however) with this song.

Now if only I could find some nice guy to come and sweep me off my feet by serenading me with this song, well let me just say.... life might actually be perfect.

Super Powers

Oh how I would love to have one super power.

It would be the ability to go back in time and live certain moments over once again.

With all the snow that has been accumulating in my neck of the woods, I've been thinking of the big snow days of yesteryear; days of building inanimate objects out of snow.

I never really grasped the idea of building a snowman? After all what can you do with a man made out of snow.

Instead, my sister and I made lovely horses, and spent all afternoon in fantasy land as we rode our wild stallions to exciting far away places and became heroines for a moment in time.

Those were such carefree days.

When we spotted Daddy's panel truck turning into the driveway late in the afternoon, we squealed with delight and eagerly ran to greet him. Embracing him with tiny balls of snow clinging to our fuzzy mittens, we dragged him off to see our creations.

To have daddy home made us feel safe, it made our world complete.

Tuesday night I went to Lansing for dinner with some friends.

The weather forcast was calling for blowing and drifting snow so my friend M offered to drive her 4 wheel vehicle. As we drove along I realized how enoyable it was to not be the one behind the wheel. I sank deeper into the seat and savored the reprieve.

Living by myself means always being the driver. It's another one of those little things I miss and took for granted.

Being the head of the household does have its rewards, but every so often I wish I could go back to the days when I could be independent because I chose to be that way and not because circumstances forced it upon me.

Somedays I long for a Prince Charming no matter how unhealthy I know that it can be. Putting those expectations on a partner can be damaging for both parties. What I think made our marriage work so well is that we took turns bearing each others burdens and one time he was the strength in our marriage and the next time it would be me. Both equally satisfying.

Yep, having a husband only in your memories, is a lot like building a man out of snow. What can you do with him? Where's the give and take. Sometimes life is so disproportionate.

I took some advice from a friend a few years ago. She told me no one is exempt from an occassional pity party. How long we choose to party is up to us. She told me to let my party last 15 minutes and after that its time to

My 15 minutes is up so I best go change my clothes.

Happy New Year

Happy 2009


Emotions are crazy things, one minute your laughing the next you're crying. That's the way the last few days have been for me.


Tuesday was card club. It was also Al's birthday, and a month ago she offered to have club at her house. Al lives about 20 some miles from the rest of us and she hates to drive at night and especially in bad weather. So hosting the party on her birthday seemed better than driving.

Like most of the single women I know, Al seldom cooks a meal. So, she decided rather than try and cook something, she'd like to take us all out to lunch and after go back to her house to play cards.


We met at a Chinese restaurant. Umm Umm Good. I had string bean chicken that was to die for.

This group of women has a 40 year age spread but you wouldn't know it when we get together.

We laugh until we cry. We bring out the best in each other but for some reason we also make a lot of cracks about our sexless lives. If anyone over heard us they might think we are a bunch of hussies who would jump the first male that crossed our path. We wouldn't think of it. 4 or 5 would have to cross our path before we'd jump their bones. Just kidding. See, I bet some of you didn't believe I had that in me.


The restaurant where we had lunch is near one of the hospitals. On this day several tables were full of men only in business attire. It was like having our dessert before dinner. Oh my, were we mumbling some choice things under our breath. And of course the things we were saying were so far from our real character, that it made it even funnier.


I started the potty mouth stuff last year when we took a bus trip to Branson. We boarded the bus at 5 am the first morning and made our first stop for breakfast at McDonalds an hour later. We were all half asleep when the bus driver announced that the right side of the bus, my side, would be getting off first. As I stood and moved into the aisle I leaned over to my two friends on the left side and said "Oh goody I can't remember the last time a man let me get off first" They laughed so loud the entire bus wanted to know what was so funny. It sure woke us up. And my friends followed suit and began coming up with one liners of their own.


Now, whenever we get together it continues. Tuesday at the restaurant we laughed so hard people kept looking at us. When the waitress brought Al a birthday cake and we started singing, every table around us joined in.


As we were getting up to leave the table next to us told Al happy birthday and Al said thank you and added "I hope we didn't disturb your lunch by our rather raucous behavior , but we are a group of widows out having a good time."

The ladies laughed out loud and said "That explains why you're having such a good time. You're not married."


The afternoon of cards held even more laugher.


When we got back to the house we opened a bottle of wine and toasted Al. As soon as the wine got to Barbs lips she had one of her famous hot flashes, so we turned on the ceiling fan. When it was my turn to discard I threw my card towards the pile and the breeze from the fan caught it just right and the card went into the crack of the table. I couldn't do that again in a million years and we laughed again.


Finally at 9:15 we called it a night. To our surprise we'd gotten several inches of powdery snow that was still falling and blowing. I was happy that one glass of wine was my limit and that it had been 6 hours earlier.


As I was pulling out of the driveway, I said outloud "Jesus be our co-pilot" and everyone answered "Yes Jesus Please"


I white knuckled it all the way. The interstate was really slick but I could follow the tail lights of the car in front of me to stay on the road. But when we turned off the interstate and on to the highway there was no one in front of me and I had a terrible time seeing the road.



Our laughter had died down and I think we were all praying silently. Just before getting to the road my friend lived on I could feel that my right side was riding the lip of the road and I tried to get it back on the road. I must have over compensated because the van started going sideways. Big ditches were on both sides. I pressed the brake firmly not pumping them and the van finally came to a stop. We were on the road still, but heading the opposite direction.


"Thank you Jesus" we said in unison. Then someone asked where the car had gone that was behind us. She had noticed the lights just before we skidded. Someone else thought they had seen a car coming towards us , but amazingly none were in our path like they should have been. We all felt like we had just experienced a miracle.


Funny how the feelings change in a moment.


Last night a few of us went to church, then to dinner and then to a movie. The same changes of emotions occured. We started on a spiritual high going to church and remembering the blessing of the night before. We met for dinner and laughed and shared stories with those not with us the night before and then we went to see Marley and Me and laughed til we cried, and then wept.

I was exhaused by the time I said good night to this great group of friends.





Peace and Blessings in this new year.

What Is A Traditional Family

Yesterday my post took on a life of its own. I got so caught up remembering past NYE's that I missed the whole point of what I wanted to say.. I'll give it another shot.

Yesterday was the "Feast of the Holy Family" in the Catholic Church. The Gospel was one of my favorites. It was the story of Joseph and Mary bringing Jesus to the temple to present him to the Lord.

What I liked best about the reading had to do with Simeon and the prophetess Anna. In fact all the readings yesterday centered around the fulfillment of Gods promises to men. Any time I hear about God promising or revealing something to someone my ears perk up because of the promise I thought...no, I still think, God made to me.

Fathers homily seemed tailored just for me. It couldn't have been more pertinent to what has been going on in my head the last few weeks. Ever since Ed has been gone the holidays just aren't the same. His presence even after 15 years is sorely missed. Our family just doesn't seem complete any longer, despite all the additions thru the years.

Also, since its almost New Years Eve, I have been feeling less than complete because I don't have a date for this special night.

Yesterday, Father started his Homily by saying, "Today we celebrate the feast of the Holy Family. What comes to your mind when you hear the word family? Is it still the picture of a father a mother and children? While that is probably the image still fixed in many, if not most, of our minds, that is really not what a typical family is today.


There are a lot of reasons why the nuclear family, as it has been called, is no longer typical. First
of all, we are living longer, so the period when a husband, wife, and their children live together is
a smaller percentage of our life than in the past–in spite of kids coming home from college and
never seeming to want to leave! Secondly, because of death and divorce there are more people
living alone or as heads of single-parent families."

He went on to say that we probably consider Jesus, Mary and Joseph the traditional family, but there is really nothing traditional about them. Joseph was the foster father, Mary gave birth as a virgin, and Jesus' real Father was God.

Then there was Abraham and Sarah, again anything but typical since Sarah first concieved when she and Abe were in their 90's. Oh yes, and then there was Simeon and Anna both faithful but elderly people. We don't know if Simeon ever had a wife and kids, but we know that Anna was 84 and out of those 84 years she was only married for seven of them and then went to live in the temple, certainly anything but what we consider typical.

Man, do I identify with Anna. Sometimes I feel like I live at church, and everything I do is related to it in one way or another. Maybe its not the typical life I desired, but it is a very rewarding and satisfying life nontheless.


So apparently the Bible knows a thing or two about families who don’t meet the familiar mold.


Father ended his sermon by saying : "In the end, what we draw from all of the holy men and women featured in the Scriptures today, is the importance of faith and faithfulness in families God supplies, no matter whatever shape or form they come in.

He asked "Whatever the makeup of your families, how are you doing in terms of faith and loving faithfulness? Because ultimately, loving faithfullness, and not the particular configuration of your family, will be the thing that counts for making you a holy family."

Wise words I thought.

So I started thinking about my family. We are different than we used to be, but we are only less in our minds. We love each other just as much and probably more, we pull together in tough times and celebrate together as we always did. We are complete!

And then there is my new family, Sisters by circumstances, friends by choice. We share our hearts and come together for each other and we have helped one another become strong in our weaknesses.
,
When you think about it isn't that what being a real family is all about.

So I've decided my new mantra for 09 will be

"I am complete, I am whole, I am loved!"

Whadya Doin New Years Eve

With New Years eve quickly approaching that little voice in the back of my head is trying to surface. It's the one that tells me how horrible it is not to have a significant other to ring the New Year in with.

If my husband said it once he said it a thousand times, "Lets ring in the New Year with a bang." He thought he was so funny, but after awhile I ceased to be amused. Gosh it would be funny to hear it again!

Six years before Ed died we were invited to a friends house for a Murder Mystery party on New Years Eve. There were four couples altogether.

The invitation arrived telling us somethings about the character we were to play, and with some suggestions of how to dress, and also the food item we were to bring. The 1st year was a Roaring 20's theme. Ed was a gangster and I was his moll. It was an Italian cuisine and Ed and I were supposed to bring an antipasto salad.

Its been 15 years but if memory serves me right, the evening went something like this:

• We arrived and introduced ourselves as our character
• We toasted with a glass of champagne (or two) and ate hors devoirs
• We went to the living room and played the 1st scene of the game
• We went into the dining room and drank a glass of wine with our soup and salad
• Back to the living room for Scene 2
• Back to the dining room for the main course which was pecan crusted pheasant breasts in alfredo sauce, and of course another glass of wine.
• Back to the living room for Scene 3
• Back to the dining room where we had dessert and a dessert wine and coffee (lots of black coffee).
• Once again back to the living room where we drank more wine while we discussed the clues and then gave our answer to which one of us we thought was the murderer.
• Finally the murderer revealed who they were and winners received bragging rights for the year.

Gosh as I write this I'm wondering how any of us drove home after drinking that much. I guess we metabolized it better back then.

We all had so much fun playing dress up that we decided to do it every year.

Here Ed and I are the 2nd year. Ed's character was Delbert (Del) Toid the class jock and I was the Hawaiian transfer student/cheerleader named Elizabeth Lei but my friends called me EZ Lei. I think I look more like a sumo wrestler than a cheerleader!

>

All I remember about this year was Ed was the murderer. It was supposed to be the 1940's. Me in a fur and Ed in shorts. Hmmm that was how it always was in our relationship. I was always too cold and Ed always too warm.




This year is another 20's theme. Ed wore 2 hats this year. His other was an aviator cap.

This was our 5th year. I haven't a clue who Ed was supposed to be in this picture. He looks like a ring master of the circus, and Norm looks like a lion tamer, but I'm thinking Sharon Jim and Steve were supposed to be Aussies. The rest of us in our Gay 90's costumes.

Ed and I were going to host the 6th party. We were both so excited because it was a Chinese theme and we had great costumes picked out. I remember the name of the mystery was "Who Hung Woo". But of course that party never happened and none of us had the heart to do it ever again without Ed. I'm glad they just didn't replace us with another couple.

New Yeas is much different since Ed's been gone. If I try, I can recall the excutiating pain I felt that first year. The next year, I wasn't as numband I decided to spend NYE with Ed's family. But that was just too hard. His brothers are all so much like Ed that it made it even more evident what a gapping hole his death had left.

For a few years I went to a church party with my family on NYE; and then I babysat the grands for a few more.

But last year I got together with a few of my peeps from the widows group and we went to a matinee movie, and then had an early dinner. I was home in my pj's before 10 pm, but I had such a good time that I didn't mind a bit not having a date and being home and in bed before the ball dropped.

I think this year will be the same. Its my new normal, and it's starting to feel pretty good.

Senility Has Set In

I picked up an absentee ballot last week. I just can't stand the thought of standing in line to vote. Before I could fill it out, I got a call from the local govt. agency saying that there may have been a screw up with my ballot.

After giving her my ballot number and reading some info off the actual ballot it was deemed to be just fine. But since I needed to go to the drug store which is right next door to the voting place I decided to drop in and let her see my ballot for herself. I knew it would make her feel better. It did.

Next I went to the pick up a couple prescriptions. After opening the bag as I was driving down the road, I realized they had given me the wrong medicine and I had to go back in the store.

After the drugstore, I decided to stop quickly at Chico's to see if they still had the sleeveless turtleneck I almost bought 2 weeks ago and decided against. They did. 45 minutes and $153 dollars later I left the store.

I made one more stop at McD's for some ice tea and finally I got home. I tell you all these details so you will get an idea of how many people I must have encountered as I went to and fro.

Back at home I decided to try on my new clothes and pulled my v-neck sweater and t shirt over my head at the same time.

After trying on the new clothes I went to put my sweater and t shirt on and thats when I discovered that the whole time I was out running around I had my sweater on inside out. Not one single person bothered to tell me!
Now everyone in town knows that I'm not only getting senile, but also knows I'm an Extra Large!

How embarassing!

I've tried to fight it, but its just no use. Senility has started to set in.

Generational Family

When I was growing up, my grandmother lived with my aunt and uncle and their 3 children. My aunt and uncle spent a great many weekends at their cottage on Lake Huron. Often, they either invited me to go up with them, or my grandmother came to our house and stayed with us. I loved being part of generational family life.



When our youngest child was starting school my husband and I built our home on part of my fathers 70 acre farm. Right next door to us was my sister and her husband and their three daughters. Our children loved playing together and took pride in being part of a generational family. There was always a tree to climb together, a creek to wade in, and between ballgames and Barbies, there were a few feuds. But more importantly a bond was made. When the weekend came the brood would ride their bikes to grandma and grampa's to play in the barn, or to help grampa do chores. No visit was complete without sitting down to eat in the big farm kitchen and playing a game of cards with grandma.

In the blink of an eye our children grew up. Now there were grandbabies running out in the yard between our two houses. A new bond was building.

Now that I've moved, the extended family hardly gets together anymore. It's sad to lose that connection.
I want our family heritage to continue and I think it is important for generations to learn from each other.

I know how important my grandmother was to me. Even with having wonderful parents, she added so much to my life, and that is something I hope to keep doing so my grandsons get a true sense of generational family.



Having said that, I must confess that as much as I loved watching my 3 grandsons play football this fall, I am excited because the season is over and that means I can stay in my pj's until 6 p.m. tonight if I choose. No time crunch, no coordinating schedules, no logging on to mapquest for directions to the game.

I have some me time this weekend.

But with football practice over that means the boys won't be coming to my house after school anymore. And while that means my grocery bill will drop 75%, it also means the house will get pretty quiet once again.

I need my family around. I need the feeling of being connected to generations of love.
There's nothing I like better than to sit down to dinner with my three, rambunctious, grand boys. I love hearing them take turns praying before the meals. I love listening to their school stories, and it's interesting to see the way they are better able to resolve conflict as they mature.

I like the generational family we have become, they need me, and boy do I need them.

In the bible God tells his children how important he thinks it is to pass on what they have learned. Not only is it important to pass on stories of the generations that came before us so we have a sense of who we are and where we came from, but it is important for our families to learn about God and tesify of the small miracles that he shows us each day.

Be careful, and watch yourselves closely so that you do not forget the things your eyes have seen or let them slip from your heart as long as you live. Teach them to your children and to their children after them. Deuteronomy 4:9

I want to pass on our heritage, and pass on the faith that I learned from my grandmother and my mother and father, and I want to make sure that my grandsons know their heritage and our faith so well, and love it so deeply that their hearts desire will be to pass it on to their own generational families. For who knows but that I have come into the kingdom for such a time as this