The blog, the baby, and the charging cord.

My blog post is late because my computer does not work without the charging cord. My husband and I had an opportunity this past weekend to see our granddaughter, Jubilee. It had been ten weeks since I’d seen her and more than that for my husband. We packed, and then we were off! Yay, on our way to see Jubilee (and Genette and Abe too, but you know how it is when you have a grandchild).

When we arrived at their home we unpacked the car and got settled in, then spent time with Jubilee, Genette and Abe. I brought my computer along with me so I could get some work done while our sweet little one was sleeping. I knew I had a blog to write so that would be the first thing to do. Jubilee went to sleep and I grabbed my computer. I opened it up and the popup said I was low on power. No problem, I’ll just grab my charging cord and plug it in.

(Warning: Run-On-Grammatically-Incorrect-Sentence Ahead!) I pulled out everything I had in the ‘cord pocket’ of my computer bag and it wasn’t there — I must have put it in the same section as my computer — nope, not there; in with my notebooks maybe? Not there; back to the cord pocket: nope, computer section: still no, notebooks… Really Lona? You already checked that too…hmmm, suitcase: not there… pause with hands on hips and think… must be in the bag with your tatting, journal, and book… nope, but I found a hair tie! Food bag…that was empty… where is that thing?!

Then the baby whimpers, the computer goes back in the bag and this Grandmother plays with her Grandbaby.

So ends the search for the computer charging cord. Steven and I got home a couple of days later and guess what? The cord was still plugged into the wall near my desk. So, the blog post is late because I left the charging cord at home…

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Besides, seriously, who could resist this little one?

Mother’s Day 2020

It was different this year. Originally, the day was to be different because this would be the first time I would celebrate in Virginia with my daughter Genette and her daughter Jubilee. I was thrilled!! I am Grandmommie!! Jubilee was to be dedicated in church on Mother’s Day, but this virus thing called Covid-19 kept us all in our own homes. Mother’s Day was different but certainly not what was planned or expected. Genette, Jubilee, and I all visited on Facetime on Saturday. It was a sweet visit; my granddaughter is getting so big so fast! It is hard to watch that happen on a screen, because I want to be there. Still, she is happy, strong, and healthy.

My youngest daughter Carmen called, and we had a long conversation on the phone, just the two of us. She is here in the city of Charlotte, but she is staying 6ft away. We decided on the phone that she could come over one day and we’ll have coffee in the front yard. We can certainly see each other even though we are at a distance.

Steven and I zoomed with the whole family, so we got to see all of our children, along with my sister’s family. It is good to be connected, although we are all in different states (and some on different coasts).  It was during the zoom meeting that I also got to see my son Bryon and his wife Amber.

Being a mom does not stop when your children grow up. It is still necessary to make decisions to protect them and your grandchildren. Usually, we connect helping with ‘going,’ but this year, helping is related to ‘staying away.’ Next year we will undoubtedly have some stories to tell about this time of our lives. For now, we have to live it.

To all of my children, bonus kids, and granddaughter: I love you all so very much. I miss you. I look forward to being near you. Give one another hugs for me. See you soon… probably on a screen.

Sincerely and with all my love,

Mom

Birthday Celebrations: No Big Fuss

This year my birthday was on the second to the last day of February (I only get to say that once every four years!): February 28 — the same day as my brother's birthday. No, we aren't twins. Joel was born two years after me.

When we were young, it was often a challenge having the same birthday. There were times we received presents to share, and we also shared a cake. When we were little, we would blow the candles out together; in later years, they would be lit for Joel to blow out first, then re-lit for me. We always shared our birthdays.

Now that we are adults, we are no longer together for our special day. In fact, this year, Joel was in Germany with his son. We texted while he was sitting in a Chinese restaurant, eating his birthday dinner. No big fuss for him this year but he said the food was excellent.

There was no big fuss for me either. Steven happened to have the day off from work, so we spent the day together, walking around the Southern Spring Show in Charlotte. We bought a beautiful handmade cutting board made from reclaimed wood. From another vendor, we purchased some balsamic vinegar infused with strawberries. We came home and I made a white pizza for supper: no big fuss, just a calm day with my husband.

Actually, as I sit here and recount the day, I realize that in a way, Joel and I do still share our day together. Every year we talk and have a bit of a celebration conversation. February 28 is something we will always have in common, even when we are separated by an ocean.

Going Down a Rabbit Hole

A memory marker is something that reminds me of a story. Memories that may be way in the back of my brain that I’ve not though about in years come flooding back when one of my senses gets hit with something that reminds me of that past event or story.

It happened this morning. I was scrolling through Facebook when I saw a picture of Gumby. Gumby is a stop-motion animated clay character. When I was a kid, Gumby and his side kick, Pokey, came on every weekend on tv. Seeing that picture this morning was a memory marker that took me down a rabbit hole – come go with me.

When I saw Gumby, I thought of a particular episode when Gumby asks his mother if he can have some crackers and milk. That reminder took me to my father: he loved Premium saltine crackers with hard cheese or sometimes just a little butter. When I was a kid there were times my father and I would sit and have a “coffee break” together. Daddy would pull out the Premium saltines and some cheese or butter. He would pour himself a cup of coffee (from the percolator not a coffee maker), I would get a glass of chocolate milk, and we would sit and have a “coffee break” together.

That memory lead me to the black and white sandwich cookies he would buy. They were always in the house. He would get a couple, put them in his pocket, and we would walk around the yard a bit before sitting to have a picnic with those cookies. He continued that tradition with his grandchildren; my kids and I named those cookies “Grandpa cookies.”

That memory directed me to my new granddaughter, Jubilee. When little Jubilee says, “Grandmommie, tell me a story,” I’ll be sure to have a cookie in my pocket.

Snow

I miss the snow. I grew up on a farm in the mountains of Upstate New York and in the winter there was always snow — deep, deep snow. There is a calming silence that I feel after a storm that leaves a foot (or two) of snow on the ground. That old carol comes to mind, “all is calm, all is bright.” It is so true after a snow storm. The blanket of white covers everything and leaves a touch of itself on every surface: the ground, the top of the house, the branches of the trees, the fence posts, the barbed wired, the tops of cars…and all is calm; after all, it’s not like you can go anywhere until the snow plow comes by.

You spend a long morning hanging out in your pjs sipping hot chocolate until the beauty of that fresh snow calls to you to come and play. You change into heavy clothes and prepare to go outside. You put on two pairs of socks (and cover those with a plastic bread bags to keep the wet away from your socks), put on your snowsuit, boots, hat, scarf, and gloves, then you realize you should have gone to the bathroom first… (it always happens that way), so you take it all off and have to start over. Then finally you open the door and step into that new unbroken surface.

The reflection of the sun on the crystal white surface nearly blinds you (“all is bright,”), but you endure it and begin to design trails, and forts. You notice bird tracks on the top of the snow. Your dog comes out and jumps and frolics, disappearing into the soft piles. You make snow balls and throw all but one at your brother — then you sit and eat the last. You find some icicles, break them off, and you eat those too. Your cheeks become a rosy red and after an hour or so you go back inside. The bottoms of your pant legs are wet, as are the cuffs of your sweatshirt, so you change back into your pjs, hang up your wet clothes, and head to the kitchen for more hot chocolate and a couple of cookies.  

Yes, I miss the snow… if only for a week or so.