Lost Mother

Here is one of the only pictures I have of my birth mother. She left our family in 1956 and I haven't seen her since. I have been trying to find her ever since my Dad died in 2010. He wouldn't give me any information about her, but even so, I persevered and have gleaned some information about her; unfortunately, I do not know her date of birth, birth name, or social security number.
It is so sad to grow up without a parent. There is always a big hole in one's heart and life. I wish I knew how to find her. I have exhausted all avenues of inquiry thus far.
I hope I will see her in heaven.

My old family home

My parents bought this home brand new in 1963. I can still remember how I felt seeing this house for the first time -- I was in love! I thought it was the most beautiful home I had ever seen. Now, 52 years later with my parents both gone, it will become someone else's home. My parents took care of six kids, several dogs and cats, not to mention my brother's snakes and lizards, numerous neighbor children, visiting aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends by serving up heapfuls of food, good conversation, and lots of love. Oh, there were fights and disagreements to be sure, but there was always the making up, the "I'm sorry" and I love you. Not a night went by that my parents wouldn't say, "Sweet dreams". It always made me feel safe, secure, and loved.

When I think of this house, I think of my Mom and Dad; their warm and inviting manner; their love and concern for all. I miss this house because of them. I walked away the day my Mom died last December and have never returned leaving the cleaning and repairing to others.

I pray that the next family who owns this home will enjoy and love it making new memories of their family, pets, and friends that they will cherish in later years.

Mom

My dear mother just died and my heart is broken. A little piece of me just died too. I took care of her 3 weeks prior to her death and had given her three kisses and a hug the last time I was with her. She died 7 hours later without me being there. No one was in the room with her. She died alone.
My mother would recite this sweet little poem to me when I was growing up and would even say it to me when I was grown. It goes like this, "Two pink eyed doves sitting in a tree. One for you (then she would kiss me on one of my eyelids), and one for me (she would then kiss me on the other eyelid)." It always made me feel loved and wanted.
One day I was looking out her bedroom window while she was sleeping and I saw two doves sitting in her Brazilian Floss Silk Tree. I went outside with my iphone and those birds just sat there while I took their picture -- posing for me. Here is the picture.

Hero

This is one of my grand-sons pretending to smoke Papa's pipe -- it may not be PC, but it is so darn cute!

Our Lenten Journey

When tempted, invoke your angel. He is more eager to help you than you are to be helped! Ignore the devil and do not be afraid of him: He trembles and flees at the sight of your guardian angel.-- St. John Bosco

This is the year that my dear husband has finally made the decision to enter the Catholic Church. I converted in 1997 and all of our children have since converted and all the grand-babies were baptized -- then, we waited for father to make a decision. For years he would say, " I'm Anglican (really Episcopalian), and I've already been baptized and consecrated". He was done and didn't need anything else. I knew God wanted me to be quiet and not try to convince him about anything. So, I prayed, and prayed, and would upon occasion read a book out loud to him about the faith. God wanted me to learn to be patient, and to trust Him that all would be well.
As time went on, he would talk more about faith and service to God and ask questions. I would pray some more. Then, finally, at the end of last summer when the RCIA classes were being offered again, I took a leap of faith and asked him if he wanted to sign up for them. I assured him I would go with him so he wouldn't be alone. He agreed. It has been a wonderful journey. We've met so many nice people that I hope will become life long friends. And, we are learning so much about our faith. I feel like we finally have the tools to be good stewards and good examples for others in this life.
Thank you Jesus for answering my prayers.

The cat with the glowing eyes - scary!

So....this is Cat, or princess, or my precious, or gypsy -- whatever. She is Catter to me. I inherited Catter when my daughter got married several years ago. It seemed reasonable to keep her; after all, this was really the only home she knew. Anyway, Catter is at times a great source of entertainment and sometimes irritation. This story is about entertainment:
A few weeks ago, my daughter's boys, age 3 and 18 months were visiting us and spending the night. Bath-time came before bedtime and they were having a pleasant time playing in the tub while I read them a story. After the bath, both boys were drying off half in the bathroom and half in the hallway when suddenly Joshua screamed, covered his eyes with his hands and ran naked and wet down the entire length of the hall. Of course, this frightened Caleb (the 18 month old) and he promptly copied his brother -- picture two naked boys running down the hall covering their eyes and screaming. I was sort of in shock wondering why are these children acting like this and what could be frightening them so much, when I turned to look into the cat's room (yes, she has her own room) and saw her sitting on top of the dresser, eyes aglow. The room was dark-- remember it was night time. I sort of stifled a laugh and went after the boys and gave them each a hug and reassured them that it was okay. I took the three year old back to the cat room so that he could see that it was only the cat and her eyes glow when it's dark -- nothing to be scared of, okay?
Sometimes God has to do this with me, I admit it. I'm very old now, and one would think that I should have acquired the trust and confidence needed to live my Christian faith. But, more often than not, I find myself wanting to cover my eyes and run screaming down the hall just so I don't have to face something that in His wisdom He wants me to confront. I need to trust God more -- trusting is loving, right?

We were once a family.....

I wish someone would have told me - warned me - that things would change and not for the better. Perhaps I could have coped with the change or the loss of a place I had in life, if only I had just known what lay ahead. People define themselves by their connections to others; where they are born and when; are they first, second, third, etc. in the birth order. Who is talented in music, who can sing, who can draw or paint, or who is very very smart in science. Which one has a sweetness to them, which one is kind and friendly, which one is sharp, which one is mean, who has a short temper, which one doesn't care. You get the picture. It takes a long time to get to know your siblings, your parents, and everyone else in one's world. It takes a long time to figure out who you are, what you like, or don't like; and just when you think you have a handle on it (I'm skipping decades of experience here), something terrible happens -- your father dies and you have a great big hole inside that never goes away. That is what happened to me on November 17, 2010.


The story of my family begins in 1956 when my mother ran away for parts unknown. I was 5 years old, but I remember it like it was yesterday. Anyway, I never saw her again. My dad left soon after to work in southern California and I was left in the care of my grand-parents along with my sister and baby brother. About a year later, he came back to get us and took us to southern California to live with him and his new wife, Jan. It was a complete surprise to me - I had no warning - but, it was a wonderful surprise. I knew Jan and her three children when we lived in Texas, and liked her very much. We remained a family for a long time and I didn't realize that it had all fallen apart until it was really too late to do anything about it. That realization came after my dad died.


I call my mom, Jan, at least once a week to visit and catch up on what we've been doing all week. At first I still felt the connection with her after dad passed away; a bonding of the heart you might say. Then, she progressively sounded more and more distracted on the phone to the point that there was really no deep personal bond going on between us. She became more and more forgetful and not wanting to talk about the past at all. She couldn't remember past shared experiences and would say "I don't know or I don't remember" a great deal.


Today was another one of those "forgetful days" that ended in tears and frustration for me. Then, I suddenly realized that I don't have a childhood family anymore. It all ended with the death of my father. My brothers and sisters don't write or call or stay connected with me even though I send them birthday cards and Christmas cards each year and make a point to see them when I visit down there.
It's heartbreaking, gut wrenching, sad.