Her Father's Homestead

      Twenty-six years ago this evening, my I met my younger daughter, Meghan Lee, for the first time.  Weighing in at just six pounds, she showed early signs of being her own person, struggling to be released from the hospital swaddling that her sister, a year earlier, had found so comforting.  Being her mother, one might accuse me of prejudice, but I am so very proud of the young woman she has become. I am blessed to be close to her, not in proximity, but in mind and heart, the places that really count. I  have watched her grow over the years, overcoming challenges and learning to soar like an eagle!!

An early reader determined to keep up with her sister, based on something she found in a book, she began calling me “Mother.”  Not mom and not just to my face, but in reference to me as well.  It was very noticeable, coming from this little person, so formal – Mother.  She still does, today;  I’m used to it and no longer feel like Joan Crawford.  That’s Meghan, no nicknames, please; only one special uncle is allowed that privilege.  I made that mistake back in April when I met one of her employers and a nickname slipped out, innocuous, but the man seized on it.  For the rest of the time there, it was Meggie this and Meggie that and you could almost hear the eyes rolling. 

My younger daughter turns 26 today and I couldn’t be more pleased to claim her – kind, loving and generally an exceptional human being, grown now, with a blog of her own.  I’m thanking the Lord for putting her in my arms and into my care – a gift to me beyond compare.  Joyeux anniversaire, Meghan Lee, j’adore!!

Readers know I’m a fan of TA DA moments, have written about them here before, but just what does it mean?  I think it’s something I picked up from a nephew, Colby, years ago.  When Col was young, he was fascinated by magic and eager to show anyone and everyone his latest trick.  He had put together a show complete with magician’s hat and cape and a very fun routine.  At the end of each trick, he’d say, “Ta da;”  it was too cute.  I don’t remember ever using the words before then, but since then I’ve made them mine.  A TA DA moment can be anything from a fabulous sunset to getting a well-deserved A in a tough class, to something that just absolutely makes you smile or laugh out loud. 

Yesterday was such a day.  I’ve been out here at the Homestead now for just about eight years and in that time I’ve become closer to a special woman y’all have heard about, my favorite Auntie Arlene.  I wrote about her most recently in July, commemorating her 93rd birthday.  I posted one of my all-time favorite photos, Auntie Arlene and me on the front steps of the Homestead, taken approximately 54 years ago. 

We’ve talked, she and I, about re-staging that old photo and one day recently at a get-together with her daughters, she said, “Should we do it today?”  That didn’t work out, but yesterday, a beautiful, sunny day, my cousin, Janice, called, said she was in town at her mom’s and how about we take that picture.  What a fabulous idea and within a couple hours, Janice, her twin sister, Jane, and Auntie Arlene, all 93 years of her, were here.  And TA DA time had begun. 

Below you’ll see  that old photo, taken when I was about two, along with a brand-new one taken yesterday!  I didn’t sit on her lap, for obvious reasons, but we did choose the same spot and amid all kinds of laughter, we took that photo.

 We  shared hugs and smiles and just reveled in the relationship.  And that, my friends, is a quintessential TA DA.   Is it important in the scheme of world events?  You bet it is in my world. I’ve said it before and will likely say it again – where we come from is important and tradition is the glue that binds us together.  And survivor that I am, the oft -repeated message here is cherish your loved ones and never miss the opportunity to let them know they are loved and cherished.  Look for  those TA DA moments, create them whenever you’re able and tuck them deep into your heart!!   Blessings!!

Arlene and LeeAnn 54 years ago

Auntie Arlene & LeeAnn today

I’ve posted countdowns over the years, usually counting the days till I’m spending time with one of my daughters; that is the case today.  In approximately two days and and three hours, I will be hugging my Meghan.  She’s bringing her boyfriend for his first visit to WI.  Yep, meet the grandparents, my favorite Auntie Arlene, referred to often in this blog, as well as several cousins and a favorite aunt on her dad’s side, a woman we called Auntie Mama, and other special people in our lives who haven’t seen her in a year and never met the boyfriend.

Two days, what does that mean?  It means I’m busy, working my way through multiple lists and checking things off.  Some of you will get this, others will question my sanity, but regular readers know this is an inherited characteristic, one I’ve written about before, the things this woman goes through in preparation for guests or a trip of my own.  In fact, just had a call from my friend, Karen, who understands and has helped on occasion.  A number of years back, before my second brain surgery, Karen came out here, went through the clothes in my laundry room, steamed everything and reorganized and colorized my upstairs closets.  Again, I believe I got it from my mom, though she denies it.

So, all guest-room linen has been washed and line-dried outside, just the way Meghan loves it.  The bathroom cupboards, drawers and closet are in order, all the little storage bins washed, dried and reorganized.  The front porch is halfway there, there, my main desk is done – found lots of great stuff I’d forgotten about, everything now organized by event/date in zip-lock bags and two drawers of photos!  The living room is almost done, bookshelves dusted, vacuumed and straightened.

As usual, when you’re in a hurry or on limited time, things happen.  Couldn’t be more true of today.  Two days ago, something happened to my forearm; it swelled up, was red, very warm and very itchy, but this morning it was dramatically worse – moving up and around my arm.  Called my nurse practitioner, unavailable, and her nurse wanted me to go to the E.R. – not likely to happen so they sent me to a nearby clinic.  Two hours out of this busy day and no resolution yet.  Someone said long ago, “It’s always something”   Back home again and back at it. 

In two days Meghan will be here and all will be ready.  We’ll meet in Green Bay,  have six glorious days; lots of fun things planned, memories will be made.  This mother may not have chosen to have daughters living on opposite coasts, but regular readers know I deal in what IS, not necessarily what I would like.  It’s the only way I know how to do things – no worries, no fear, live the best you can in the moments you’re given.  Reach out to those around you, make certain your loved ones know they’re loved & cherished.

Two days and I’ll be hugging my Meghan, burying my face in her hair and reveling in the scent of my daughter.  Forty-eight hours and much to do; good thing finishing the mowing is on my list – another blessing – I get to head outside into a fabulous day, hop on the mower and soak up the warmth and sunshine, then time to turn up the music and dance my way through the rest of my lists! 

God is so good to us and I’m very thankful in advance for the blessings of the coming week; I’m sure by tomorrow my arm will be better and in two days…!

As the French say, c’est la vie... 

Early morning storms and those who know me know that I love BIG weather; that’s what began just before dawn. My dogs, however, hate storms, in fact, Shadow actually moves a chair to get behind and under it, where he whines incessantly.  Soleil, not the brightest dog on the planet, seems lately to take his cue from Shadow and now whines as well.  Maybe there’s a blessing in my hearing being less than its pre-surgery state.  How’s that for a positive spin?  We all know I love spin

Back to the subject at hand.  Being here at the Homestead, I often think of how things were, as my daughters say, “back in the day.”  My first thought when the power went out was whether a power line was laying somewhere, like between my truck and me or on the roof.    My second thought was no Internet, meaning no PC or laptop.  But I was still connected, as long as my cell phone battery held out.  No lights, no running water, affecting bathroom functions as well.  You bet, with a well and an electric pump, no power means not much water available.  I believe that’s enough said, but cell phone in hand, I was able to text my dilemma to my Meghan and post on facebook.  ErinLee will hear about it later; even now, it’s only 10 a.m. in her time zone and I know better than potentially waking sleeping daughters.

Back in the day, and I’ll have to ask my  favorite Auntie Arlene, how where things at the Homestead when the power went out? Did they light candles, perhaps an oil or kerosene lamp?  I’m fairly certain they weren’t concerned about an Internet connection and didn’t have a weather radio connected to NOAA or 24/7 meteorologists on TV.  Maybe they sang together,  played a game or read a book, maybe the Bible and prayed; I’m sure I’ll hear from cousins offering information.  

So I was out of touch, but thanks to the cell, able to post on Facebook and make a few jokes about passing the time singing the blues, accompanying myself on the piano.  There’s that spin again, but to be honest, I soon tired of bad blues and fell back to my standby, not rock’nroll, fan that I am; my first thought was not the old REO anthem, Riding the Storm Out.  A favorite that seemed appropriate during this morning’s big weather was the hymn, Jesus Savior Pilot Me with the familiar lyrics, “Unknown waves before me roll.”  That old seafarer’s hymn goes on to praise the Lord for piloting us through dangerous waters and storms.

Despite all our technology, there’s a raw power to the natural world that isn’t held at bay by anything humans can create.  When the power goes out, you best believe that there is a Power beyond anything on earth and cling to that life-preserver of hope.  Being me, ya’ll knew there was a message coming and here it is.  My faith is anchored on the One who has and will continue to get me through the biggest waves and the most fearsome storms.  My hope is that you already have or find your way to this lifeline as well. 

Be blessed and make it a fabulous day, despite anything going on in your life!

     Yesterday my Auntie Arlene turned 93.   Regular readers have heard of her and seen pictures on this site before.  What makes her so special?  For one thing, it is through her that I own the Homestead.  She married one of my dad’s brothers, Uncle Elmer, years ago and they raised their family here at the Homestead.  One of my all-time favorite pictures is of her and me, taken here when I was quite young, shown below.   I spend time with her as often as both our schedules permit.  That’s right, both our schedules. 

     Auntie Arlene has a full life, full of family and friends -  She loves pro football, especially the Packers and she knows stats, more than I do.  She challenges her mind against the contestants on certain television game shows,  remains current on civic and community events and continues to engage in lively debates;  for the two of us sharing a meal  (my lunch is her dinner and my dinner is her supper)  topics range from people to politics to religion.  She’s an encourager, a woman of strength and conviction – always ready to go to prayer over whatever the need may be.  And she lets you know she’s praying for you!

Auntie Arlene & LeeAnn on the front steps of the Homestead circa 1957

      I’m thrilled to be part of her life and to have her as part of mine.  We have a conversation or visit as close to every week as possible.  When I’m in school she’s pulling for me all the time, especially when I appear tired or frustrated; I know I’m in her prayers because she tells me so.  She knows about my health, my children, my life.  At 93 she’s seen a lot and has a beautiful, serene wisdom and grace.  She’s quick to share a chuckle and loves to show you the photographs of her expanding family, in the generation of great grandchildren now.

     We’re sharing lunch/dinner on Monday.  I’ll take some new pictures of us and maybe post one here, but regardless, to me, Auntie Arlene is perennially as young and happy as she appears in that old photograph. 

                Happy Birthday, you are so loved!!

A couple of years ago, I wrote about the different seasons and times in our lives.  As Solomon said long ago, there is a time for everything in our lives.   At that time, I was commenting on the passing of one of my aunts, my dad’s youngest sister and how, while it may be a time of mourning in our lives, I believe it was a time of dancing as my grandmother welcomed another of her ten children into heaven.

     I’ve been away from this blog for a while, the longest time ever since beginning  back in 2008.  First there was the celebration of Easter, my birthday and five years cancer-free, all spent in South Carolina, visiting my daughter Meghan. It was awesome, a weekend in Charleston, Easter Sunday on the beach, fabulous meals in historic restaurants, then a week as a guest in Meghan’s home. During that time, I was still in my Spring semester of school, more challenges along the way, including a technological failure that was fairly stressful being a thousand miles from my home computer with critical homework due. 

     Back here at the Homestead, that semester rolled on to completion, not the usual two A’s , but two B’s, in two very challenging courses. While not overjoyed with two B’s, it beats the daylights out of two C’s or D’s    I encountered unknown technical challenges with this blog site, only recently resolved,  made some changes  on the business side of my life, piano lessons for the spring were completed and I decided  not to attend summer school, the first time in three years that I skipped summer classes.  I needed a break, as those who know me up close and personal will attest; the time had come to lighten up a bit.  It’s been a good summer, once it finally arrived. 

     But the seasons in the title don’t refer to calendar seasons.  It has been both a time to mourn and a time to dance, as is typical of all of our lives. The annual reunion with high-school friends was fabulous, a Cowgirl theme this year, love and laughter and new memories made, while old memories were shared and indeed, it was a time to dance. The time to mourn came with the passing of two our group’s mothers, followed immediately by the passing of an old friend’s 29 year-old daughter. That’s been a tough one, as the young woman was precious not only to me, but as a big sister to my girls. We’ve spent good time on our memories, even in the time to mourn was a time to laugh as we’ve shared favorite stories about this special friend.
      That  is life on planet Earth, life in this fallen world; one minute filled with joy beyond measure and next with sorrow beyond compare.  My message today?  Love with all your heart and let those special people know for sure how much you care.  Love unconditionally, as we are loved by our Heavenly Father, not for what anyone does, rather for who they are.  Spread grace as you go, show the compassionate face of Jesus to those who may be desperately in need.    And dance, take time to dance even in the face of sadness.     À bientôt.

Today’s post is a re-run, if you will, first posted In 2009. I always think of it at this time of year and decided to revisit and update and voila – a fresh post!

I’ve never been one to “give something up for Lent.” Why? Because I was raised in a traditional Protestant denomination and we didn’t do that. As an adult I did, however, observe Lent in some way. The one that sticks out in my mind ALWAYS was the year I decided to switch to a Lent focus for our breakfast devotional time, more than a decade ago.

Those were still the days of getting children out the door to school each morning. They were growing up, though, not little girls any more – both freshman that year (longer story) – two different schools, different start times, one requiring me to drive 12+ miles one way. But we continued breakfast together every day – cereal, oatmeal, french toast, whatever, served on the breakfast counter with juice and supplements and a quick devotional to send us all out the out the door wrapped in peace and love against a cruel world.

The year in question I chose to switch to a Lent focus by reading portions of one of my favorite authors, Max Lucado. Max has great books for everything, but my favorites for Lent are Six Hours One Friday, No Wonder They Call Him Savior, He Still Moves Stones. My thought was to use a small portion of one of the books each morning, but that was not so well received. One of my daughters began to protest about the extra time it would take, and we all know that in the morning, time can be at a premium. One thing led to another and in short order our morning sharing time was not so pretty. I was hanging on to my right as the mother to insist. My daughter was hanging on to her position as a young teenage girl. So sparks began to fly, with the other daughter caught in the crossfire. So much for sending my children out into the cruel world wrapped in peace and love each morning.

My good friend, Marlee, veteran Bible study partner and (at that time) mom of teenage daughters a few years ahead of mine, was a great resource. So I went to her with my dilemma and lo and behold, the advice was not what I was anticipating. Marlee was supposed to tell me that I was absolutely right in my right to insist and that I should stand firm. Didn’t happen. What I got was the advice that perhaps the time had come to release my daughter’s relationship with the Lord to my daughter and the Lord. What?? I’m her mother!! It’s not time yet and I’ll decide when the time has come!! Think maybe those control issues were surfacing?:)

I had to do something and gave sincere thought to Marlee’s suggestion, took it in prayer, and went to separate breakfast times and back to the original plan of a brief teen-centric devotion and less strain in the morning. I don’t remember how long we continued the routine of devotions in the morning, but I believe we went through most of high school. One of those rites of passage, but a treasured memory in this mother’s heart. AND I just took a moment from writing this post and called Marlee – she has a cell phone now, shared with her husband – they have a good marriage . Left a message on voice mail that I was revisiting that long-ago time; I’m sure she’ll smile. It’s Lent 2011, closing in on Easter. So many memories, so many blessings and so much love…

Readers know that I came of age in the late ’60s and early ’70s and that while my beliefs have matured, I still love rock’n'roll, now in the “oldies” category. One song written by Bowie and released by Mott the Hoople in ’72 called for All the Young Dudes to Carry the News. I didn’t start this cold, but sunny Saturday morning with the intent to put up another post. However, one of the habits I have yet to break is morning news. One of the features on the show I watch resulted in this change of plan. I will not grace this post with the name of the offending retailer, will not give them credence by mentioning their name. You can Google the topic and find out for yourself. The purpose here is not to call for rebellion or a boycott as I may have in my younger days. The point here is simple and direct – a message for moms, grandmothers, aunties (men, too, but I believe most of my readers are women) – carry the news to your daughters, granddaughters, nieces, girls of all ages within your sphere of influence.

What is the news? First, the news is that the eight year-old girls in your lives do not need the latest – a push-up swimsuit top to give the illusion of assets not yet developed. That’s what got my attention – the latest trend being marketed to hit the beach in 2011 is a padded, push-up bikini top, aimed at the eight-year-old market. Not 18, not teenagers or adolescents, but little girls, pushing sexuality on innocence.

The concern for me here at the Homestead is the message that as women of all ages, child to aged, you’re not okay, you’re not good enough the way you are. It’s about how you look, how you present yourself and it better be sexy and attention -getting or you’re just not good enough for this culture.

The message is awful, but the NEWS to embed in young women of all ages, wherever you encounter them, is YES YOU ARE! You are good enough, you are valuable and you have great worth!! It’s not about how the world perceives you, what the boys in your class may talk about, what you see in the media at-large – it’s about you, a female of whatever age, and your immense worth and value!

Readers also know my worldview and belief system as distinctly Christian. You don’t come back here often if expressions of God offend you. The concept is central to the subject at hand. Among the women with whom I work, I’m famous for the question – Do you know who you are?? Answer? You are the daughter of a king, not just any king, but the mighty Creator King of the universe – He is your Father and you are His treasured daughter and that, my friends, means something!

Carry the news, repeat it often, loud and proud – You ARE Worthy and of IMMENSE VALUE. Hold this deep in your heart, believe it and share it with those you love. I believe that women of all ages would make better choices if they were grounded in the belief of their innate value to an all-wise and loving Creator Father. Thanks for listening and have a beautiful day!

• Tags: affirmation, attitude, emotional well-being, encouragement, motherhood, women's emotional health 
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