Thanks For The Memories

I spent the better part of the afternoon scanning photos from my childhood and family.  For now, I will only post the previously promised Jr. High memories.

These are my band buddies - the 2 Ednas and the "greatest bassoonist" in the band.

Kay, Edna and Cheryl rejecting evil in any form.

Our friend, Manuel, moved from Harlingen to San Antonio after 9th grade.  We met in band in the 8th grade. He played alto sax and I played the flute.  Due to the seating arrangement, much of the time we sat opposite each other so there was plenty of time to look up from our music making to gaze at each other.  

Oh, the innocence of first love.  What I remember is a funny, smart and kind young man with a gentle spirit to whom I could talk for hours.  I also remember that he was the center of a bit of girl competition.  

It broke my heart when he moved, but everything happens for a reason and life has taken its prescribed course for both of us.

Through Facebook I have recently reconnected with all these people.  It is so fun to see familiar faces (albeit 38 years later) and feel the years slip away.  It is all too easy to wonder what if...what if he didn't move, what if my family hadn't moved the following year, what if I had pursued music, what if.....

Spending too much time on the what ifs of life causes one to miss the reality that we are who we are because of our choices and the consequences they bring.  For those of us trusting in God we know that He guides and protects those who trust in and lean on Him.  

Life is a blessing not to be taken lightly.  Embrace yours and those you love.

Hugs....

Sheryl

Jr. High 38 Years Later

Jr. High School.  What do those three words mean to you?  For me they represent the very best time of my life prior to 1989.  This is especially significant because I was born in 1958, in Jr. High from 1970-73, and at various places from '73-'89.  Hands down, 1970-73 were peak years for me.

As 6th grade - a part of elementary school back then - drew to a close I worked very hard to convince my parents to let me play in the band.  This was no easy task.  There was a great deal of concern that I would not stick with it.  I can't fault them for their concern.  I am sure my gnat-like attention span was firmly in place long before I realized it myself.  I found an incredible love for music through learning to play the flute.  To this day I can still remember being on stage surrounded by others as we worked together to play music.  It was an amazing feeling.  Being a band member not only gave me the opportunity to grow as a person it allowed me to belong.  Band became my life and the place where I learned many important life lessons. 

I learned that hard work leads to excellence; failure is a part of life; competition can make or break a friendship; working well with others is important and fun; and lastly, I learned that I am totally incapable of marching and playing a musical instrument at the same time.  Sadly I have absolutely no sense of rhythm.  I faked my way through a few Christmas parades but, being a part of a real marching band - not going to happen.  Thus, my musical career ended with 9th grade in 1973.

I thought the friendships forged during these years were lost forever due to moving and life in general. Thanks to Facebook, this week I was reunited with four friends from those days.  It is amazing to reconnect with people I thought I would never see again.  In some ways those 38 years have melted away, then I look in the mirror.  Oh, yeah, I really am 53.  

Pictures to come this weekend.  I'm going digging around to see what I can find that will stir some memories without humiliating anyone.  If you were a part of my world at Coakley Jr. High in Harlingen Texas...stay tuned!

New Year, Clean Slate, Fresh Start

I started a post about our vacation.  Then I started a post about Christmas.  So much time has passed since all of that that I decided to skip right up to the present.  One of the beautiful things about a blog is being able to record life as it happens.  Thanks to the movie Julie and Julia, one year ago I vowed to blog everyday.  Well, that got me nowhere; when I began to slack I just gave up - my personality in a nutshell.  I realized that I didn't have enough interesting stuff to say everyday.  So, this year, I am trying for a weekly blog entry.  Hope springs eternal.

As I look into the new year I have no idea what will come our way.  On January 1, 2010 I had no idea that by the end of the year we would be sharing our home with our daughter and her three children or that I would be a few signatures away from owning my own home (yes, we own our home, but this time I get to help choose the house!).

I can look into the year and plan what I would like to happen, but only God really knows what will be coming our way.  I plan, but always defer to His wisdom, grace and love.

With that introduction, here is what I hope for, will plan for, and focus on in 2011:

Health for all those I love - I know that is generic and not very creative, but without good health nothing else matters.

I want my grandchildren to have a stable home - this is why I am getting another home, more on that later.

Quality time with my husband.  When we actually have time to ourselves we really have fun - what a refreshing thing to discover.  What has always caused difficulties in our marriage is the outside forces of others impacting us.  Couldn't we just live on an island?

Time and space for creativity.  This is my lifeblood.  If I am not creating I die inside.  

A new home - this is actually the first thing that I hope happens this year.  With this all the above can happen as well.  I have never been a part of choosing the home that I live in.  I chose apartments, but for reasons I will not go into, I have not chosen houses.  I want to choose my "forever house."

Earn money.  For many years now I have gone without earning any money.  I am blessed to have a husband who makes a good living and thus far I have not needed the money.  But, I would really like a monetary reward for my hard work.

I want to give back.  I will find a charity that touches my heart and not only give money but also of my time.  This is an important part of life that I have neglected of late.  Because of my dad, military causes always touch my heart as does hospice - those are amazing people.  And, of course there are the animals, the creatures God entrusted to our care and are so often neglected and abused by people.  I can't adopt them all (maybe a new kitty for the new house?), but I can find ways to help.

Well, those are my hopes and dreams for the new year.  Where will 2011 take us?  Only God knows for sure.  See you same time next year and we'll compare notes.  

God bless us one and all.

What Happened to Sheryl, Part I

A good friend reminded me that I have been blog silent of late.  As 2010 draws to a close, her prompting is bringing me back to the keyboard.

Life, since September, has been...well, rather chaotic.  Into our quiet, predictable life came our daughter and her three young children.  There is much that can be said about the whys, the right and wrong of the decision, but what it all boils down are three young girls who deserve an opportunity to become all that God created them to be.

While I would be lying if I tried to portray our situation as The Waltons 2010 style, neither is it all bad.  Yes, the three year old is given to fits of screaming when things don't go her way; bed time is well, a nightmare on Willow Bend Dr.; and most days the mornings start waaaay to early.  But there are moments we would never experience any other way.

Shorts and Love Bug raking leaves.

Is there anything more precious than having a baby around the house, especially one who is perpetually happy?

Hamming it up on Halloween.

Showing off a new hair cut.

Wanting a picture taken because big sister did.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

These are also the things that keep us from poking our eyes out at 5:30 in the morning when the screaming commences, or at bedtime when #1 antagonizes #2, and #3 is just trying to keep the peace.  Ahhh, the life of a multigenerational home.
Next...Part 2 - Getting ready for Christmas.

One of Those Days

I am sitting here, alone in my room, alone in my home, and I feel as if I could cry.  I'm really not sure why.  I have a lovely home, a loving husband, 3 gorgeous grandchildren and a daughter who is working hard to get her life together.  My business is surviving the worst economy in over 70 years.  What is there to cry about?


I am a crier.  It takes very little for me to tear up - I have been known to cry at dog food commercials because the dog is aging.  This feels different.  There is no logical explanation; that always baffles me and I spend valuable time trying to figure out what is wrong.


JFM went out of town yesterday.  When I am feeling uncertain I get anxious when he leaves.  I know I am perfectly capable of taking care of the house and myself, it is just...well, I like having him here to help me.  He is a big man (tall not fat) with a heart to match.  He irritates me as all husbands do to their wives, but the bottom line is that I depend on his presence in my life. 


This is the last day I will have the house completely to myself.  I am happy that the girls will be living here because I know they will be safe and secure.  I really don't mind.  So, why the emotion?


I think it might boil down to the fear of history repeating itself.  Last time we let our daughter move in things went well for months.  Then one day I came home from work and they were gone; gone back to the environment they had fled a few months earlier.  No goodbyes, no thank yous, they were just gone.  I was devastated.  I think my anxiety is based in the fear that a similar scenario will occur once again.  Like most people I have some abandonment issues and the way the kids were taken away fed right into this problem.


While I know she is their mother and has every right to do as she pleases, I have lived longer and know the ramifications of such actions and can't help worry about the girls, especially Shorts who has been through so much.


So, what's a girl to do?  Live each day as it is presented to me; keep our sanctuary private and pure; love each child deeply no matter where they live; and take lots of weekend vacations!


Hugs to all.

I Rearrange Therefore I Am...

... at peace.  

With the impending expansion of our family (no, not like that, our daughter and 3 granddaughters are moving in with us), I felt the need to declutter the living room.  We are blessed to have a 1980s version of the modern home which means a giant great room and only a formal dining room.  This arrangement has served us well, and now that large room is more important than ever.


I sat in the room yesterday, however, and a feeling of claustrophobia overwhelmed me.  This is not good.  I tried to imagine this same room filled with children, another adult, toys and noise...well, let's just say I had a break-down.  Something has to be done, and since moving is not an option, I tried to picture the room in a different layout.  This didn't work either.  I am visual - I have to actually see it to feel it, which means furniture must be moved, several times, so that I can see what works and what doesn't.  Thus, I stopped the panic, put on my big girl panties and started to move furniture.  It is amazing what happens when a coffee table is moved from the room and the sofa is pushed back about a foot.  Voilà a large space for kids, toys, adults and no one has to be on top of one another.  The oxygen had returned to the room.

We now have plenty of seating for everyone.  A chair and ottoman placed in a corner and out of the line of fire.  Adequate lighting and room for storing toys in baskets which will go under the sofa table. 

But joy in one room led to despair in another.  What to do with the coffee table, and how am I going to turn our bedroom into a child-free zone; an adult retreat just for the two of us?


After about thirty minutes one aching back and two clicking knees later this is what I cam up with...

a cozy little seating area where we can watch TV, read, or, even talk.  It has the Cleo seal of approval.  The furniture is vintage 1930s or 1940s purchased several years ago from a friend.  This is the original upholstery which will be changed soon.  I want to decorate this room in soothing brown based neutrals and the accent colors will be white, turquoise and orange.  This color scheme is an homage to my love of all things mid-century (20th) modern with a nod to a set of stacking footstools we had in our home when I was growing up.  The bowl on the table is a piece of Fenton glass I inherited from my mother-in-law and the wall hangings above it were hers as well.  This room, along with the master bath, is scheduled for repainting soon.  After that new bedding and the furniture redo.


The other part of the room is the place where I am now sitting - my little desk area.  I moved an antique drop leaf table from the kitchen to our bedroom.  The main reason is that I want the kids to be kids; I don't want to have to worry about watermarks, scratches and stains from normal every day use by young children.  It makes the perfect desk.

The leaf can be popped up, so if we wanted to eat a cozy meal together or play a game, we can do that as well.  The master retreat is coming together nicely.

The rooms in our house are a hodgepodge of eras, styles, and right now colors, but somehow everything kind of works and there is a feeling of comfort knowing we are using the things our parents used.  I like that.  

I often dream of a perfectly decorated house - all one style where everything coordinates and when the HGTV decorator and real estate agent walk in they proclaim it perfect - "Change nothing" they advise.  But the reality is that will never happen and, really, would I want to live without memories or history?   No.  My house is a reflection of me - a charming, if not disjointed, blend of many different things that make up the whole.  I like it here.

Family Visits

I have talked with many folks about the experience of visiting family.  What I have found is that nearly everyone has a similar story.  Each family has its own routine and ways of doing things - and often the routine becomes rather boring. 


In years of visiting my inlaws and my own parents we nearly always do the same things.  Eat and watch tv.  Ok - maybe there is some conversation in there somewhere, but you get the idea.  After we have caught up on each others lives, we have to look for things to do.  Part of the problem, in my family, is that we did not grow up playing together.  Our parents took good care of us, but they worked so hard there was no left over time for fun.  Sounds sad, but it really wasn't so bad.  But, with that back drop it explains why family visits are what they are today. 


Now that mom is our only living parent I want to make visits count.  She and I have a favorite "antique" store where we like to spend time treasure hunting - and we rarely leave empty handed.  We also cook and eat. 


I guess in the long run the most important thing is to regularly spend quality time together making memories.  Everything else will be forgotten.

Mom reminded me that what my grandchildren need is love, attention and security - in years to come they won't remember what I buy them or if their room is decorated perfectly but they will remember the things we do together.  Those are the memories I want to make and the memories I want them to have with my mom.