MaMa and Dusty Rhodes

My grandmother was a small woman in stature… but, had a grand personality.  She had the greatest laugh in the world and was easily amused at the silliest things.  While watching TV, she could often become so “tickled” that I would have to break into laughter with her, even if I didn’t see the humor that caused her to laugh originally.

TV was normally watched in the den at my grandparents’ home.  There was a daybed on either side of the room with a recliner at one end facing the TV at the other.  The recliner was ALWAYS my grandfather’s seat.  MaMa and I would sit on a daybed next to each other.  My favorite shows to watch with her were morning matinees.  We would sit and watch Abbott & Costello or Rock Hudson and Doris Day for hours on end.  Actually, with reminiscing, I’m in the mood for some old black and white movie watching.

We also spent time watching Hee Haw, The Porter Wagoner Show, and The Grand Ole Opry.

A session of TV watching on Saturday nights always included WWF.  That woman loved watching wrestling… or, “rasslin” as it was affectionately known in that household.

She would sit so prim and proper taking in the show.  A LADY in every sense.  But, when Dusty Rhodes came on the tube she was sitting forward and quite vocal.  She could make quite a fuss over him.

“Ohhhhhh, ain’t he so purrrrrty?”

*giggle*

“Get ’em Dusty!”

“Oh!  Did you see that?  That boy just knocked down the American Dream.”

“Uh oh, here comes the metal chair!”

“It’s all over now, but the hurtin’.”

“GET ‘EM DUSTY!  DON’T LET ‘EM DO THAT!  GREAT DAY IN THE MORNING!  GET ‘EM!  GET ‘EM!”

“That’ll teach those boys to mess with the American Dream.”

*spit chew in tin cup*

Lol.  She was a true lady… until you got her in front of the TV watching wrestling.  I would spend more time giggling at her than watching the fight.

She was something to see.  What a woman.  She could make anything fun.

What are your favorite memories of TV watching when you were a kid?

Quitting Smoking

November 16, 2011

I started smoking regularly when I was 13 years old.  Horrible, I know.  Much too young to be starting such a bad habit.  But, 33 years ago we kids were going to the store to buy cigarettes for the adults.  They were 52 cents per pack WITH tax.  They have since gone up to ten times that amount.  My brand of CHOICE has always been Marlboro 100’s.  Over the years, I’ve smoked various brands… and, if I found myself in a pinch, would smoke almost any cigarette that had a filter.  Although I would have to be fairly desperate to smoke a menthol.

My dad smoked Camel, non-filter, almost his entire life.  He, too, started very young.  My mother never really smoked.  I saw a pack in her purse one day, but never saw her smoke… and, never saw her with cigarettes again.  I always envied people who never smoked… or, who could quit any time they wished.  The only time it was easy for me to quit was when I was pregnant.  As a matter of fact, with my first, as soon as I realized I might be pregnant, I quit right then.  It was a no-brainer.  No decision to make.  I just did it.  Unfortunately, I started up again after my daughter was born.  With each pregnancy, I quit… and, then started right back.  What was I thinking?  Why didn’t I just not start again?  Well, frankly, I enjoyed smoking.

I have been jealous of people who don’t have this addiction.  They don’t feel the “need” to find a place to smoke.  They don’t feel panicked when they CAN’T smoke.  They don’t feel guilty having to take a break from something to go have a cigarette.  They don’t feel shame when needing one so bad overrides their judgment.  They don’t have to worry about their hair and clothes and breath smelling like stale smoke.  Yet, I continued to smoke.

I had thought about quitting many times over the past several years.  I always knew that I SHOULD quit.  I wanted to be healthy.  I wanted to be able to breathe more clearly.  I wanted to not be ashamed of this filthy habit.  Something would always happen to make me think that I couldn’t.  I would think about how I’d feel going through the nicotine withdrawals.  I would fear gaining an enormous amount of weight by eating more to compensate for not having a cigarette.  If I got down to the last pack in the carton, I would panic.

Money has gotten tighter and I have decided I can no longer afford to smoke.  With the money that I could save from not buying cigarettes, I could pay bills more easily.  It sickens me to think of how much money I’ve spent – no, wasted – over the years on cigarettes.

So now I spend the day looking for ways to distract myself from smoking.  In only two days, I’ve cut back to about a quarter of what I was smoking before.  You might say, “But, that’s not QUITTING”.  My reply to you is, “But, that’s a HUGE step for ME”.  And, I think that’s the biggest accomplishment I can hope for… setting little goals and MEETING them.  I knew that to quit “cold turkey” would be too much to deal with during an already stressful time so I made myself take baby steps.  I believe that everyone has to go with what works best for THEM.  This seems to be working for me.  And, if at some point it stops working, I’ll try something different.

The greatest part of it all, is that I know I’m doing the right thing for me for the right reasons… health and money.  Knowing that gives me more incentive to stick with it.  Being able to have the support of family and the best friends anyone could ever be lucky enough to be blessed with… priceless.

Losing You, Finding Me

I thought you were my knight in shining armor

come to save the day and set me free

It took me by surprise when you were no longer

riding on your horse to rescue me

Finding me after losing you

was the hardest thing to do

What I never thought I’d be

was losing you, finding me

You kept so many lies and secrets hidden

Betraying all the trust that I was giving

So many things I’ve learned since you’ve been gone

I guess your need for the high was just too strong

I tried to help in every way

But your desperation grew each day

You refused to help yourself

Gave up on us and everything else

Finding me after losing you

was the hardest things to do

What I never thought I’d be

was losing you, finding me

I had to be strong for you so long

When you left my strength was gone

The love around me kept me alive

But something deep inside me had died

Why chose to go away

is still unknown to me this day

All the pain I’ve kept inside

haunts my mind in the middle of the night

The kids are growing up so fast

asking every question they can ask

It’s not fair to them what you did

The only choice to make was to live

I’m finding new strength every day

I know I’ll make it I’m on my way

All the dreams you took away

are back in my heart and here to stay

Finding me after losing you

was the hardest thing to do

What I never thought I’d be

was losing you, finding me

Losing you, finding me

Ghosts, Spirits, and the Supernatural

When my grandfather passed away… in his/our home… we began to notice very odd occurrences around the house.  I’d had several “experiences” with spirits… or, ghosts… since I was a child so I recognized what was going on… and, that “feeling”… immediately.

While going through some of his music collection, I decided to catalog it on the computer.  I would make trip after trip with my arms full of vintage record albums from his old room through the playroom and into the family room where my computer was.  I remember it being extremely cold so I was shutting the sliding glass doors that connected the playroom and family room each time I went through.  Surprisingly, the heavy door would not stay closed.  I decided to leave it open the next time I went through… only to have it be closed as I came back.  At that moment, I felt pressure from a hand on my shoulder.  Without even turning around to see that there was no one there, I knew.  I knew my grandfather was with me.

After that, we began noticing oddities.  A knick-knack would turn the opposite direction at random… or, something would just sliiiiiide across a table as you were sitting there watching.  The thermostat to my room would be turned way up even though I liked it much cooler.  He never did like the cold.  Papa, pronounced “PawPaw”, had a dry sense of humor and could be a prankster.  We all either felt Papa’s presence or witnessed random acts of weirdness that no one could explain other than to simply say, “Papa’s here”.  Even when strangers would mention something strange had happened, we’d just say, “Oh, it’s just my grandfather”.

Shortly following my grandfather’s death my brother was getting married.  Just before the wedding as family and friends were arriving, we were up late one night sitting at the dining room table visiting with “new” family to be.  My (then, future) sister-in-law’s best friend asked who the old man was walking through the dining room.  Chills.  She had seen him.

Apparently, there was one person in the house that my grandfather found enjoyment in pulling pranks on.  He even seemed to take pleasure in taunting this person.  This person could be in the bathroom and get wet by a shower that was closed off by a glass door… among other pranks.  We were sitting in bed watching TV one night and during a commercial I noticed that my silver candle holder was not on top of the TV as it was earlier in the day when I cleaned.  I asked if he moved it and,of course, he didn’t.  We sat in silence for a while watching the show.  Suddenly, the silver candle holder “fell” from the ceiling.  I didn’t say a word.  In a short few moments he asked me if I’d seen what happened.  I responded that I had indeed seen it.  He left the room and would not return at night alone… for a loooooong time.  I found it comical.  Him… not so much.  I understood his fear of unexplained things.  But, we all knew that Papa would never do anything to hurt him… or, anyone else for that matter.

When my youngest son, Zac, was born even stranger things would happen.  As a baby lying in his crib, I could hear him giggling on the baby monitor in the mornings as if he were being tickled.  Also on more than one occasion if he started to fuss just a little, I would hear the mobile wind up and play as he’d start to sigh or giggle again.  Of course, as I’d go into his room to check, no one would be there with him.  He sure wasn’t doing it on his own as an infant.  As soon as he could say just a few words, he saw pictures of my grandparents on my dresser and called them “Mama” and “Papa” even though he’d never seen the pictures before, or ever heard us mention them.  At times, he would run through the house playing hide-n-seek.  Zac would usually “seek” and find him in my bedroom closet or my office, which was the room that used to be my grandfather’s bedroom and the room he died in.

Unfortunately, we no longer live in that home.

Zac still talks about Papa, though, and is very interested in ghosts.  He even points out the fakes on TV shows.

I know my grandfather is still watching over us.  I miss him so much.

And, I can still feel his hand on my shoulder.

BoBo

This is about my brother.  BoBo is a nickname given to him by a little girlfriend back when he was just a toddler.  No one ever called him by that name but that little girl.  Well… except when I want to rattle his chain.  *evil grin*  He hates the name.  But, ya know what?  Too bad.  I love the man with all my heart.  I truly do.  But, I have some nightmarish memories to go along with all the adorable ones.

I was an only child for 8 1/2 years.  It was a good life.  Lonely very seldom, I spent a lot of time around my cousins and friends.  I always had playmates, but as soon as I learned that there would be a new baby in the house, I was the happiest little girl ever.  I was always mature for my age… more dependable than other kids my age, as well.  I couldn’t wait to have a real baby to play with and hold and feed and love and… change diapers?  Ewww.  Mom’s belly got bigger and bigger.  This baby was going to be huge.  And, he was… almost 10 lbs.  But, Lord… was that boy the cutest thing you’d ever seen?  Big beautiful eyes with the longest eyelashes and big pinchable puffy cheeks.  He was absolutely beautiful.  I loved that baby boy as if he were my own.

And, then… he became a toddler.  I had never experienced such lovable sweetness turn into a… well… hellion is the only word that comes to mind.  He would give kisses and hugs and be just oh-so-sweet one minute.  The next minute… he would be chasing me with a baseball bat screaming that he hated me because I was trying to put him to bed.  grrrrr.  He was smart even at that age.  That little creep, err… I mean, angel… had my mother wrapped so tight around his pudgy little baby finger.  He would do something to me and as soon as I turned to retaliate, he’d yell for our mom.  And, of course, with him being the baby boy, she would always punish me for whatever had occurred.  grrrrr

One weekend we were at my dad’s apartment and all of a sudden, he was nowhere to be found… along with my the little girl of my dad’s girlfriend.  I freaked.  My dad freaked.  His girlfriend freaked.  After searching the apartment, the pool, the courtyard, the laundry room, the game room, the roof… EVERYWHERE… we were frantic!  I didn’t think I’d be able to breathe again.  And, then… where was this giggling coming from?  The closet?  In my dad’s room?  Hmmm… well, what do we have here?  Two nekkid little kids sitting in the floor of the closet playing… and, totally oblivious to us in a panic searching for them.

Another time he came up missing was at my grandmother’s.  That poor old woman almost had a heart attack worrying about where he’d sneaked off to.  Turns out, he had decided to visit the good folks at the electric company office down the street.  He told the lady which house was our grandparents’ and she brought him back to us.  But, not before we’d lost our minds looking for him.  *sigh*

I remember as a teenager babysitting him… he was a fun little monster… most of the time.  Whenever my boyfriend would come over to hang out with the parental units out of the house, it was almost always after my little brother was asleep.  But, sometimes… he would fake me out.  My boyfriend and I would be snuggled on the couch kissing… umm, I mean… watching TV, yeah, that’s it… watching TV.  Anyway, I would notice my little brother out of the corner of my eye and would turn to tell him to get back into bed.  It would inevitably turn into an argument with the final words out of his mouth being, “I’ll tell Mom your boyfriend was here.”  Hell, what was an extra hour staying up late gonna hurt the little brat anyway?

At 17, I was graduated from high school and moved to North Carolina on my own.  Even though it was scary and exciting at the same time to do something so “adult”… the hardest thing in the world was saying “goodbye” to my brother.  Seeing his eyes water up made me cry even harder.  I hated leaving him.  But, I was back in town in less than a year.  It was great to be able to watch him grow up.  He was smart… loved sports and was good at them… musically talented… a great son… and, an all-around good kid.  (Well, at least as far as Mom knows.  *wink wink*)

When he started playing the guitar, I was just in awe of his talent.  Whenever his band was onstage, my chest would swell with pride so much that I thought for sure I’d burst.

As I watched him grow into a man, I had to admit that I was proud.  He’s honest… intelligent… full of common sense… loving and compassionate… hard-working… a good father who adores his sons… a playful uncle…  a caring friend… still a great son… and, an awesome brother.  He has been there for me when I needed a friend… a voice of reason.  He’s been known to give me hell when I needed it, too.  He’s given encouragement and support.  He’s been a total jerk… and, one of the sweetest men I know.  He makes me howl with laughter… and, he can also make me raging mad, but not too often anymore.  He’s a good man.  That beautiful little baby boy with the long eyelashes and the blonde curls matured into a really good man.  I’m so proud… and, lucky… to have had the opportunity to witness such growth.

His own boys are like him in different ways.  The oldest inherited his gift for music… and, love of long hair.  His youngest… well, let’s just say that his poor mommy is stuck with his attitude… and, his sweetness.

To this day, we still joke about how he’s mom’s favorite and that she loves him more than she does me.

Truth is… I love him more than I love me, too.

 

30 Days of Thanks – 2011

Day #1 – I’m thankful for my beautiful daughter, Kris Skipper. I miss her so much and wish she didn’t live so far away. I love her like crazy and wish she were here.

Day #2 – I’m thankful for my amazing son, James David Skipper. He is bright, fun, and witty. Thank you, David, for the smiles. I love you!!!

Day #3 – I’m thankful for my awesome son, Zachary Sullivan, who makes every day special. Thank you, Zac, for reminding me that the little things in life are bigger than any hardships. I’m so proud of you. I love you. Always & Forever.

Day #4 – I’m thankful for my beautiful mother, Geri Bussey. Thank you for always being there for me with love. I love you, Mom!

Day #5 – I’m thankful for my dad, James Dennis, Sr. He may not always have been there, but he taught me some very valuable lessons in life. I miss him so very much. 😥 I love you, Dad, and wish you were still here.

Day #6 – I’m thankful for Scott Golla. He has come into our lives and made us a family again. He has given himself to us completely and selflessly. I love you, Scott. Thank you for reminding me just how special love can be. ♥

Day #7 – I’m thankful for my brother, Jaimz Dennis. He’s made me laugh, listened to me cry, patted me on the back, encouraged me… and, even given me hell when I needed it. I love you, Jimmy! Thank you for growing into the man that you are. I’m so proud of you. ♥

Day #8 – I’m thankful for my grandmother, Edna Mulling. She was, by far, the most generous, loving, and compassionate person I’ve ever known. She was my best friend throughout my childhood. She could be sweet and feisty all at once. She was a fan of Abbott & Costello, Hee Haw, and Dusty Rhodes. She’d open the window in the morning so I’d wake up to the sound of birds singing and the smell of honeysuckle. We’d make the beds singing “Kiss An Angel Good Morning” and “Happiest Girl In The Whole USA”… hang clothes on the line singing “Amazing Grace” or “Rock of Ages”. God, I miss that woman.

Day #9 – I am thankful for my grandfather, William Mulling, Sr. He was stubborn, ornery, and penny-pinching. He was also proud, funny, and far from lazy. He only went to the 7th grade, but was one of THE most intelligent men I’ve ever known. His dry humor and stern voice made many see him as harsh… but, I got to see a much softer side of the man. He would buy any brand that saved him two cents… but, then adopt an entire family at Thanksgiving and Christmas to buy for. He taught me about true patriotism, real appreciation of music, and to never back down when you feel you’re right. I miss his war stories, talking about baseball, and his garden. I loved him so very much and miss him dearly. ♥

Day #10 – I am thankful for all my childhood memories, good and bad. I thank God for the people that I was blessed to be surrounded by who taught me so much about family, love, and life. I choose to focus on memories like family vacations of camping and Disney, summers in MS and GA where hide ‘n seek and the front porch swing with family playing music and singing were a favorite, the smell of morning breakfast cooking and running barefoot across a cold floor, swimming all year round, sleepovers with cousins, thinking my baby brother was the biggest pain the butt and the coolest kid ever at the same time, trips with my grandparents in the RV and stopping at every little scenic roadside rest area in the mountains and hiking through the woods just to look at a waterfall. *sigh* Good stuff.

Day #11 – Today, I am so very thankful to all the military men and women who have served, are serving, or will someday serve… those who have returned home and those who will never return. We so often take for granted the peace that we enjoy. We think of freedom as something that has always been and can never be taken away. We complain about traffic, jobs, and family while our troops are engaged in gunfire, “working” doing things we hope we never have to do ourselves, and praying to God that they’ll see their families again. For those of you who protest against our troops, refuse to stand for our pledge or national anthem, or burn our flag, you might want to thank them for ensuring your right to do so. We may be going through hard times, but our freedom and way of life is still a gift that many will never receive. Thank you, Army… Air Force… Marines… and, Navy!!! God bless.

Day #12 – I am thankful for the little things in life… the sound of my children’s laughter… Mom’s holiday goodies… how the scent of honeysuckle and the slamming of a screen door reminds me of childhood… the crisp cool air of fall… the smell of a summer rain… my friends always being there with a smile or a shoulder… and, my man always trying to cheer me up when he knows I’m down.

Day #13 – I’m thankful for second chances. I’m thankful for getting to learn as we go along in life. I’m thankful that even when we don’t get it right, it doesn’t mean it ends up bad. I’m thankful that some things in life we get to know what the outcome will be, and others get to be a total surprise (good or bad). I’m thankful that people come into our lives… and, some leave… and, the good ones stay in our hearts forever. I’m thankful that we are where we are meant to be at any given moment… even if we don’t want to be there. I’m thankful that everything happens for a reason… even when we can’t figure out the reason for ourselves. I’m thankful for the hope that bad things end and good things begin when the time is right. I’m thankful knowing that one day I’ll be able to help others again as they’ve helped me.

Day #14 – I’m thankful that no matter how horrible things have gotten over the past couple years, our family has been able to remain together. They are my life. They are my heart. I pray that they know how much they mean to me. Together, we can face anything… and, pretty much have. ♥ I love you guys!!!

Day #15 – I’m thankful for the computer, internet, and social networking.  Without these things, I shudder to think of how many relationships would have been lost due to the lack of “keeping in touch”.  It warms my heart to think of all the people “found” again.  More importantly, I can’t imagine my life without all the relationships begun as a result of the ease of “meeting” someone new and different.  God bless you all, and thank you for being part of my life.  

Day #16 – I am thankful for… well, being thankful.  I mean, I’m thankful that I feel gratitude.  I’m thankful that I can see the beauty and blessings in the day.  They may not always be plentiful, but they are there.  I may sometimes have to look a little harder, but they are there.  Things may not always seem to happen quickly enough, but eventually, they are there.  I’m thankful that no matter how bad things get, I can, and do see the good.  I’m thankful that even when negativity creeps in, I can push it away to find something positive.  I’m thankful for being able to feel appreciation.

Day #17 – I am thankful for friends. My friends. You. I have been blessed beyond belief with the friends I have made over the years. Old friends. New friends. I treasure the beautiful souls that give themselves to me completely and unselfishly. I cherish the trust and belief that I am better than I think I am. I am grateful for their generosity of time and love and understanding. Their support and encouragement in everything I do is appreciated more than I can find ways to express. ♥

Day # 18 – I am thankful that no matter how hopeless a situation can seem, if you look hard enough, you will always find something worth being hopeful for.

Day #19 – I’m thankful for my son, Zachary Sullivan, finding passion, motivation, and accomplishment in playing football. In just his very first time ever being a part of organized team sports, he has excelled beyond anyone’s expectations and been drafted to the All-Stars team. We are so very proud of him!

Day #20 – I am thankful for small miracles.  I realize that no matter how panicked or stressed I get, something always has a way of turning out okay.  It may not be the way I hoped, or even what I needed… but, it’s at least enough to get us through one more day.  And, that’s enough to give me hope that tomorrow we’ll find a way of holding on again.

Day #21 – I’m thankful for my past… mistakes… accomplishments… tragedies… and, triumphs alike.  I realize that the good in life is needed to keep us striving for more… and, the bad in life is to teach us that we’re strong enough to attain it.  No matter what choices made differently would have taken me to a “better place”, it would not have led me here and THIS is where I am meant to be.

Day #22 – I’m thankful to be surrounded by “open-minded” people.  We don’t always need to agree on every little thing.  We just need to be respectful of each other.  And, even in a disagreement, if we LISTEN to each other we just might… maybe… learn something.

Day #23 – Today, I am thankful for Co’Cola, chocolate, and Marlboro (yes, I have slipped… but, still doing better than before).  ‘Nuff said.

Day #24 – Today, I am thankful for the chance to continue to make new memories, while cherishing the old. Memories held closely guarded in our hearts that we’ll never allow to die. Memories that are so old, they’ve faded to black and white stills. Memories that we’d like to forget, but know that they hold a place in our lives like a bookmark. And, each day giving us the opportunity to create ones that we’ll look back on in our tomorrows to come. God bless all. Happy Thanksgiving.

Day #25 – I’m thankful for our family friends, Chris and Kathy Gallops.  There is a special place in heaven for people this good-hearted. When we lost our home in Florida, they and their son, Kevin Freel, were right there helping us pack up what parts of our lives we could take with us.  Kevin, made sure we had a temporary place to stay for the immediate time.  And, Chris and Kathy moved us here near them when we could no longer afford to stay in FL.  They have given so much of themselves, not just to us, but to everyone they come in contact with.  No matter how great their needs are, they continue to put others’ needs first.  They deserve the very best that life has to offer.  I am so honored to call them “family”.

Day #26 – I am thankful for being taught right from wrong. There have been times that I’ve doubted that always doing the right thing was… well, the right thing. I saw so many others getting to be selfish and not having to face consequences for their actions. I wondered why it was so unfair that even doing the right thing, I still had to pay for others’ actions. The truth of it is… I can hold my head high. I can be proud that even when it cost me… I still stood on higher ground. I can live with that.

Day #27 – Today, I’m thankful for becoming the person I am.  I’m thankful for the trials, tribulations, and hardships.  They’ve taught me to appreciate… and, fight for… the good in life.  They’ve taught me to choose my battles more wisely.  They’ve taught me patience – and, the little I have now is sooooooo much more than I ever had.  They’ve taught me perseverance and reminded me just how strong I can be.  They’ve taught me to make it a point to SEE the beauty in each day, no matter how gloomy it may be.  They’ve taught me (along with the reminders of several special friends) that I need to trust myself more.  I’m happy to be open-minded, have a full heart, and as much hope and faith as I can carry.

Day #28 – Today, I’m thankful for differences.  I’m glad that we all have different views and beliefs… thoughts… speech… personality traits… size and shape… tastes… attractions.  Think of how boring it would be if we were all the same.  I believe with an open mind, heart, and ears, we can learn so much from each other.  None of us are perfect… we’re just trying to be the best person each of us knows how to be.  There are legitimate reasons for not liking someONE or someTHING… don’t ever let it be because they are not the same as YOU.

Day #29 – I am thankful for warm snuggling on cold nights and sweet good morning kisses.

Day #30 – I’m thankful there are so many ways to express myself.  I can tell someone how I feel or what I’m thinking through words, verbally or written… or through poetry or a song.  Even just a look or a touch can speak volumes.

Music… A Part Of My Life

Music is definitely a huge part of my life.  If I had my way, there would be music playing 24/7 everywhere I go.  😀

My grandparents are the ones that taught me to truly “appreciate” music.  They listened to only country, gospel, or folk… but, they could tell you everything about the song that was playing.  My grandfather always knew the story behind the writing of the lyrics.  I was fascinated.  I loved spending time with them.  Falling asleep to a stack of 45’s – Dolly Parton, Tanya Tucker, Brenda Lee, Conway Twitty, Merle Haggard, Porter Wagoner, Johnny Cash, Roy Clark, Buck Owens, Donna Fargo, Lynn Anderson, Loretta Lynn, Crystal Gayle, Eddie Rabbitt, Charley Pride, Ronnie Milsap, Ray Charles… and, on and on.  Each morning, my grandmother and I would sing songs like “Kiss An Angel Good Morning”, “Happiest Girl In The Whole USA”, and “I Never Promised You A Rose Garden”.  While hanging out the clothes, we always sang “Amazing Grace” and “Rock of Ages”.  And, in the afternoons we always sang folk songs out of a little cloth book she had.  My mother listened to Elvis, Neil Diamond, 60’s and pop.  I remember us dancing together as a little girl to “Sugar, Sugar” by The Archies.  My father was into more of the songwriters, like James Taylor, Jim Croce, Johnny Rivers, Doobie Brothers, The Eagles, Bread, etc.  My uncle was into Black Sabbath, Blue Oyster Cult, Steppenwolf, etc.  While my friends and I grew up on AC/DC, Lynyrd Skynrd, Bob Seger, Pat Benatar, Ratt, Poison, etc.  I even had family and friends that listened to classical.  I loved it ALL.  I loved everything about it.  I enjoyed watching old black & white musicals.  And, on all sides of my family it was a common occurence to have everyone pick up an instrument and start playing and singing at just about any get together, big or small.

My father used to write beautiful songs that stayed in a notebook.  I think I was the only one that ever got to see them.  My brother is an extremely talented guitarist who can play the drums when needed.  My ex-husband is an awesome drummer.  I’ve written songs.  I looooooooove singing.  My daughter sings, my older son plays guitar, and my younger son has played the hell out of drums very naturally since he was a toddler.

So, yeah… music is a part of my life

My Grandfather’s Story

My grandfather used to tell the greatest stories. Unfortunately, I’ve forgotten so many of them. He used to tell of when he was a little boy growing up in Georgia, or when he was a medic in WWII or the Korean War. He was a rabid baseball fan. Atlanta Braves, of course was his favorite team, but he’d watch ANY game ANY time. He could rattle off the stats of not only every player currently on roster for any team, but also of every great player of any era.

My favorite story, however, is one that he only told me once. It was when I asked him how he and my grandmother met. As he told it:

“She was a sweet little girl from Mississippi who grew up pickin’ cotton on her daddy’s farm with her 10 brothers and sisters. I was a dirt poor boy from Georgia who quit school in the seventh grade to help with my family’s farm. That’s just what you did back then. I joined the Army and went to war when my country needed me because that’s just what you did back then, too. I was on leave in Tampa, Florida with some buddies and we walked into this little diner to get lunch. This pretty, sweet little girl came over and asked me what I wanted. I looked right into her eyes and I could see………… I could see my forever. We got married a few weeks later. We never wanted to spend a night apart. That’s just what you did back then.”

I love this story. They were inseparable for the over 40 years they were married. I never once heard them argue. They disagreed all the time, but I never heard it be anything other than a difference of opinion. Isn’t that how it’s supposed to be? They knew they were different and appreciated it. It worked for them because they both believed. They believed that marriage is sacred. They believed vows were meant to be kept. They believed that they were meant to work out any problems they had together, no matter what it took. They believed that it was supposed to be “forever”.

Why don’t people believe like that anymore? Why does marriage seem to be something to do instead of a way to live and love? So much these days it seems almost as if people treat it as a game or a way to pass the time if they’re bored with their current situation. Wouldn’t it be great if we could all believe like that again?

Waterfalls

I’ve had a lot of dreams about my grandmother lately. She was a truly wonderful woman. All of my fondest memories as a child are with her. I spent as much time as possible with my grandparents…… weekends, summers, and getaways throughout the year. They loved traveling. We would load up the camper and go camping or visit family in Georgia or Mississippi. Sometimes, there was no destination…… we would just drive and stop wherever we found something interesting. Those were my favorite trips. My grandfather enjoyed driving and my grandmother and I enjoyed the ride….. pointing out old barns, horses, and funny signs to each other. What excited us the most was when we’d spot water. It didn’t matter if it was the ocean, a river, a lake, stream, or rapids… it could even be just a simple fountain.

Our most traveled route was through the Smokey Mountains. God, how beautiful! We’d make my grandfather stop for every waterfall we found. Some, we’d have to hike a mile or more back along the mountain to get to. I remember asking my grandmother one day about how the water looked from the other side. She took me by the hand and we worked our way over the slippery rocks to get behind the waterfall. I have to say it was so peaceful and beautiful there… we were in our own magical world. I was amazed by how powerful the water looked from the outside crashing down onto the rocks. Yet, from the inside, looked softer and more calming. Something so beautiful just HAD to be touched. We never could find one where the water fell close enough to the rocks that we could reach out and touch it…… I guess I’m still looking.

I think many people are like waterfalls….. my grandfather especially. He was rough and powerful on the outside, but so soft and forgiving on the inside.