Gratitude Day #30 - Mr. Kerry - 30 Nov 2017

Today I am grateful for Mr. Kerry.

Forty years ago today, I was a nervous, young 22-year old girl about to be married the next day. I had met a man that seemed to love me with all his heart, who I had grown quite fond of, and had asked me to be his wife for eternity.

I hadn't loved him at first, but I was slowly getting there.

He treated me like a lady; opening doors...and still does. Pulling my chair out for me...and still does. Helping me with my coat...and still does.

My parents adored him. And, when I had taken a few days to give him my answer after he proposed, my dad asked me when I was going to give him an answer.

Me: "I don't know".

Dad: "You had better think real hard about this. For how many people do you think are going to be willing to live with YOU?"

Sigh...they loved him. They tolerated me.

Through the years, Kerry and I have:
Moved from Washington, DC to Ohio.
Born and raised four children to adulthood.
Buried one of those children.
Acquired a whole passel of grandchildren.
Traveled to all fifty states.
Bought a home.
Supported Kerry as he worked 30 years as a letter carrier supporting our family.
Buried our parents.
Buried one of his siblings.
Rejoiced over choices adult children have made.
Grieved over choices adult children have made.
Wept with joy.
Wept with fear.
Wept at loss.
Wept.
Devoted our lives to serving God and serving others.

The final words my mother said to me on the day we married still echo in my ears. Her mantra: "Root hog, or die."

What?

In other words, honey...you're on your own. Don't expect anyone to carry you now. You're a big ol' married girl, and it's your responsibility to make it without relying on anyone else from now on.

A true statement. And, we have done it.

There has not been one single moment in forty years of marriage that I ever regretted marrying him.

Not one moment.

There has been frustrations as someone who was raised as an only child blended with someone who cane from a family of eleven children.

But, we have done it. And, we're going to keep on doing it.

Kerry is the best person I have ever known in my life, for he is a man filled with integrity -- the type of person who is good when no one is watching.

God bless this good man.

And now, this is the end of my gratitude posts. I have done one each day for thirty days, and could go on every day the rest of my life and never run out of things to be thankful for.

Because...that is what I have chosen.

Love to you all...

Wedding day at the Washington Temple - 1 Dec 1977

Gratitude Day #3 - My Family - November 2017

Gratitude Day #3

Today I am grateful for my children.

We had a houseful! By the time I was 30 years old, our family consisted of four children under five years old -- the last two being ten months apart. Three were in diapers, two were on formula and in cribs, and and I was worn out.

Plus, in between those four children had been four miscarriages.

It was the very best thing I have ever done.

I grew up alone. My sisters were nearly grown and out of the house when I was born, so I grew up a bit spoiled. Not "bratty-spoiled" -- heavens, my mother would have made me into a greasy spot. But, spoiled in the fact that every single toy, dress, girly-thing, whatever...that came into the house belonged to me. I had no one I had to share with.

Kerry grew up in the middle of eleven children. We were polar opposites.

So, when as a young married woman I was shocked beyond belief that half of my bed, closet, bathroom space, etc. would now be going to someone else, Kerry was satisfied that he would only have to share with one, rather than ten others.

Then, here comes the children.

I can honestly say I wouldn't be who I am today if I had not had the experience of having a family. I learned fairness -- and unfairness. I learned deeper frustration -- and purer joy. I learned how to truly care about someone else to the point of feeling their pain, and wishing it upon myself.

And, I learned to serve.

Peter was the guinea pig I made most of my mistakes on. My tears would mix with his as I tried to figure this motherhood thing out. I cheered him on as he took his first steps, and wept when he was sick and I didn't know what to do. His life was cut short by the ravages of drugs at age 30, and I knew what true grief was. Me, who had played for dozens upon dozens of funerals in my life, felt mourning and devastation deeper than I had ever known. I can hardly wait to hold him again.

Harmony is our only girl, and brought a personality all her own with her. She made sure she marched to her own drum from the moment she was born. She and I have similar personalities, for when we're in a public place where something will remind us of a certain scenario, we know better to catch each other's eye. We won't be able to contain ourselves. And, we know it.

Jordan was the absolute easiest child to raise that I could ever imagine. He was and is laid-back, but outgoing. Everybody wanted to adopt him, for he was full of cuddles. He is a marvelous and supportive husband and father today, and his family is stellar.

Erik had us to himself the longest, both as a young child, then later as the others began to leave home. I will always cherish road trips and lunches with him.

The tide has now turned. It is they who are concerned about us. It is they who call home checking in on mom and dad. It is they who turn around when we are touring Fisherman's Wharf in San Francisco to see if we are keeping up and are not lost.

These marvelous children have turned into marvelous adults. And, I thank the good Lord that they were sent to our home.

It's Only a Little Cup and Saucer

My maternal grandmother was the one I knew the best.

Bertha Agnes Gearheart Stevens, wife of Corbitt Sullivan Stevens

Each year in October, my parents and I made the trip to Kentucky to bring her back to Ohio for the winter. 

My mom was afraid for her mom, for she still heated her house with a coal stove, 

which meant going out back with a coal bucket

during the ice and snow.

She was always ready to go back home in March,

for it was plantin' time.

But, several years before we began to plan for her winter stay, we made trips to visit both her and my grandfather.

Once, during an extremely hot summer visit, 

we had gone "cemeteryin'".

The older folks knew where every one of their kin was buried.

We were so thirsty for something cool to eat or drink,

so we decided to stop at Raybourn's General Store.

It has since burned down. 

But, you could buy just about anything you would ever need...

from overalls, to foodstuffs, to farm implements.

That included fudgcicles.  

The four of us sat in the car slurping away on our fudgcicles 

when "Mawmaw" took me by my eight-year old hand and took me back into the store.

I was just a bit younger than eight in this photo.

There, she proceeded to buy me the prettiest little 

flowered cup and saucer.

It was one of the few things I ever received from her.

I have grown up,

moved several times,

and raised four children...

and that little cup and saucer has survived it all.

The original cup and saucer are on the left,

but through the years I have found a few more plates that 

resemble the same pattern.

I guess that little cup and saucer 

would be considered antiques today.

I'm not sure anyone in my family 

will ever want this or appreciate its story.

It may end up at Goodwill...

But, it's little story is preserved here.

And, this is probably why I love and admire dishes 

to this day.

I will stop dead in my tracks when I see lovely old dishes.

Now, I remember why.