A Day for Fathers & Making Memories

Fathers Day weekend. In the United States, it comes along once every year in June. As the story goes, it was first celebrated in Spokane, Washington at the YMCA. William Jackson Smart was a Civil War veteran and also a single parent. One of his six children, Sonora, after hearing a Mother's Day sermon, told her pastor fathers should be honored as well. She suggested the date of June 5, William's birthday. Because the pastors did not have time to prepare their sermons, the holiday was deferred to the 3rd Sunday in June. It didn't become a national holiday for many years after that, but according to Wikipedia, that's where it got its start. That was in 1910; one year before my own dad was born.

As Father's Day approaches, I begin to think of dad. I think of my childhood. Some of my fondest memories are playing catch, barefoot in the front yard. Well, I would be barefoot, the feel of cool green grass beneath my feet. Dad would always wear his black work shoes and white socks. Same ones he'd worn to the local textile mill where he worked until he retired.

Sometimes, if I was really lucky, he'd let me help him in the garden. I say 'let' because it felt like a treat. He was pretty particular about his vegetable garden. He had a green thumb like I'll never have. We would pick juicy ripe tomatoes, ears of sweet corn, crunchy cucumbers and beans. I loved it, especially when he'd let me wash off a tomato fresh from the vine and sink my teeth into it. There's nothing like that juicy goodness.

The only thing I didn't particularly like was picking beans. Every year he would plant green beans and butter beans. I just wasn't good at picking them. He would go behind me and, just when I thought I'd done a good job, he'd show me all the beans I'd left on the plant. And, this man of few words, would use those times as a teaching opportunity. Without me even knowing I was being taught. Somehow, he helped me realize a strong work ethic, to never do a job halfway, even when it's not fun.

So, yesterday, with this year's Father's Day approaching, I decided to visit my dad. I turned off Highway 70 and the first thing I noticed were the flowers. They were gorgeous and they were everywhere, dotting the landscape. As I parked against the curb, I noticed that across the way, were other women, visiting their dads too. I kicked off my shoes and felt the cool green grass beneath my feet as I walked over to see dad.

 I looked down at the marker he and mom had picked out together so many years ago. I saw his name and then 1911-1996. The memories flooded in as I dug my toes into the grass. It was quiet. I felt at peace. For a few moments, I drank in the memories of the fun times we had together. And I was thankful for this day, this day that was set aside for us to honor and remember our dads. 

After a bit, I began walking back to my car. I glanced back over my shoulder at the marker and whispered, "See you later."

The further I walked, I felt emotion welling up within me. My heart felt heavy. I missed him. By the time I got to the car I knew that, any minute, I would probably shed some tears. And then, it happened. 

It's been said that God has a sense of humor. I think this day confirmed that for me. Without any warning, as I opened the door to my car, in the midst of the peacefulness, the quietness....

My car alarm went off! 

I scrambled for the key, for anything, to make it stop. It seemed to me it blared on and on forever. I could only imagine what the other people across the way were thinking. Finally, success! It stopped. I sat there, feeling the stress melt away. I began to breathe again. And somehow, in that moment, I felt emotion welling up inside me and....

I laughed out loud. 

That's when I knew, without a doubt, that God has a sense a humor. And somehow, I could just see my dad, looking down on the scene, with a big grin on his face. 

The sadness had passed and only joy remained. 

Father's Day. A day for fathers and for making memories. In the past, I often found myself dreading the day. In fact, sometimes I would even skip church and try to pretend it was just another day. Not anymore. Thanks to my Heavenly Father, this Father's Day is memorable in a good way. And, somehow, I have a sneaky suspicion that my own dad may have had a hand in it too. The same kind of 'hand' he'd used when he taught me life lessons when I didn't even know I was being taught. 

Only time will tell. 

Happy Father's Day!

Celebrate Life!

Jean

A Day for Mothers & Making Memories

None of my children live in the same town I live in. Therefore, it’s always interesting to see who makes contact first on Mother’s Day. We are a family of “text-ers” so I couldn’t wait to see whose text would come in first. Would it be my son, my firstborn? Or perhaps my oldest daughter who is now a mother for the first time? Or maybe my youngest, the daughter who is more responsible than I’ll ever be?

As I wondered, I tiptoed downstairs, opened the front door gently and plucked the Daily Times from the front porch. Carefully, I placed it on the table where my own mother would find it. Then I placed her Mother’s Day card on top, just so she wouldn’t miss it. She hasn’t felt well lately, not good enough to join me for church, but I knew that sometime during the morning she would enjoy reading the morning news along with her breakfast.

I busied myself getting ready, picking out just the right outfit and putting on the “war paint.” The wonders of age-defying make up never fail to amaze me. Just then, I heard it. The soft chime of a text message coming in.

I picked up the phone and smiled. My first Happy Mother’s Day text. From my first born and his lovely wife. Sweet. Later, the new mother chimed in; she would come by later today with a gift, and her hubby and baby girl. I could hardly wait! I finished getting ready and headed downstairs.

Mom was up and we exchanged a few pleasantries. The card had warmed her heart. I reminded her that, as soon as she felt better, I would follow through on her promised Mother’s Day gift: a manicure.

I slipped into church, a third row seat. I breathed a prayer of thankfulness, thankful for my mom, for my children, for my new granddaughter. So many blessings. Then a little green blinking light on the phone in the seat next to me caught my attention. Another text? But no, it was a missed call. And now I had a voice-mail. From my youngest. Again, I smiled.

Since I was in church, (I mean, the time of fellowship was over and the sermon was about to be delivered) I wouldn’t just pick it up and listen to the voicemail. But I did (and this is just between me and you) text my daughter to make sure she didn’t need anything. (You never stop being the mom.) All she sent back was: Listen to the voice-mail.

As soon as I got into my car after the service, I did just that. A sweet Mother’s Day message from my baby girl and her boyfriend.

They remembered. I love that.

So, even though none of my children live here, in this town, they do live here. 

Everyday. 

In my heart.

Wishing you a Happy Mother’s Day filled with opportunities to make memories or sweet remembrances of times past,

Jean

March Madness & Mad About You

The oddest thing happened when I tried watching the game today. The TV channel, that local CBS station that the NC State v. Georgetown game was to be shown on, was blacked out. Some days my TV is fickle. Go figure. And on today of all days. On this day when we North Carolinians are hoping to see if State would make it to the Sweet 16, those final 16 teams on the way to the final NCAA tournament game in New Orleans. And, just for the record, March Madness is a single elimination NCAA (National Collegiate Athletic Association) basketball tournament and this 3rd round’s winners advance to be a part of the final 16 teams, then the Elite 8, the Final Four and on to the championship.

As I channel-surfed, trying to find another channel that it might possibly be on, I found Joel Osteen. Now, Joel is THE man for positivity. And I seldom turn down an opportunity to feed my soul with uplifting positive thoughts. While he wasn’t speaking about sports teams, he did encourage us to speak to people what we believe they can become. Maybe you see the potential for greatness in someone but they just don’t see it yet. You can make a difference by speaking greatness into their life. Joel used the example of Oprah and how, when she was young, someone had told her she was pretty. Until then, she had not believed it; she didn’t have confidence. But, because one woman simply complimented a little girl, it started her on the path of believing in herself.

So, as I kept up with the scores and play-by-plays online, I was reminded again of how simple, how easy it is to make a difference in the lives of those I come in contact with each day.

And while “March Madness” almost always refers to a really exciting basketball tournament, this month I challenge you to create your own “March Madness.” Remember that the God of the universe is mad about you. He loves you and he loves the people you come in contact with each and every day.

Today, you have the power to speak greatness and belief into the lives of others. Likewise, you have the power to speak negativity into their lives. Choose wisely. And make a positive, lasting difference. Change a life today.

Oh, and by the way, one of the first teams to make it to the Sweet 16 is NC State! Go Pack!

Mad about you,
Jean

Two Special Moments, One Beautiful Baby

They had told me. ‘They’ being all the grandmothers I know. They had told me that being a grandma was the best, that there was nothing like it, that it was incomparable. They were right.

As a new grandma (a.k.a Mimi), I can attest that there really is nothing like it. Of course, I’ve only been Mimi, officially, for 70 hours and counting, but I can tell you that it’s an experience I wouldn’t trade for anything.

The day of Maddie’s birth began much like any other day, except that I started the day earlier than usual, could hardly sleep the night before and felt so much excitement I could hardly stand it. Okay, so it wasn’t quite like any other day. In fact, I was so anxious to get to the hospital, I had to set my cruise control to keep from speeding on the highway…and on the side streets. Let’s face it. I lived on cruise control the whole way; it just wouldn’t do to get a ticket on the day of my granddaughter’s anticipated birth.

After much waiting and anticipating, the hour had finally arrived. In the waiting room, the father of the new dad got a text message (thank God for technology!) that read: Call me and put it on speaker phone.

As relatives and friends huddled around the cell phone (and, yes, it was rather like a football huddle), we found out Maddie had been born! And, just in case we might have doubted or thought this was some kind of joke, Maddie made herself known with an announcement of her own. Almost, as if on cue, the group’s audible “Awww…” carried through the waiting room in unison. Then, again as if on cue, we were silent, listening to Maddie’s sweet cries.

Expectantly, we waited by the nursery window to catch a first glimpse of ‘our’ Maddie. After a bit, there she was, with dad close at hand. I’d never seen him smile so big, except maybe the day he married my daughter. This was truly a special moment for all of us.

Cameras and cell phones clicked as pictures were taken. The excitement mounted. Every little movement, cry and yawn captured. We crowded by the window, stepping back only to give another member of our little troupe a closer look. After taking a few pictures, I realized, here we were, all together, rejoicing. All except MY baby girl.

I quickly texted her: How’s Maddie’s mama?
My daughter responded: I feel like I’m in a dream. But at least there are good French fries here. LOL

I wondered. Were there French fries or was this some crazy drug-induced figment of her imagination? I texted again: Can I sneak back there?
She responded: Yeah, but no boys allowed. I’m not decent.

I smiled. I love that girl’s sense of humor and the way she can turn a phrase.

The second special moment of the day was about to begin. I slipped away from the group of “oohs and ahhs” and found my way back to her room. There she was. My little girl. Now, not just a woman, but a mother. We spent a few sweet moments together before the nurse came to help make her ‘decent.’

And the French fries? They were real. It felt good that someone was taking good care of my little girl….and her appetite…after so many hard hours. And I realized how God is like that. When we’re alone and the people in our world are focused on other things, He’s there for us, taking care of our needs.

Two special moments and a beautiful baby. It just doesn’t get any better than this.

Those grandma friends of mine? 'They' were right.

Jean
a.k.a Mimi

Sometimes Things Go Wrong

Have you ever had a day when something went wrong? And no matter how you wished you could fix it, you couldn’t and it ended up costing you…a lot. Well, here’s what happened to me yesterday. I had been noticing this odd noise coming from the front of my vehicle. It seemed that as I drove faster, it got louder. It sounded much like a jet engine. And while I enjoy flying (when I have a window seat), I didn’t enjoy my car sounding like that.

I took it into the shop and when the guy behind the counter asked what the problem was, I really didn’t know what to tell him. “Well, it kinda, sorta sounds like a jet engine taking off.” As I began talking he began writing and, as I stammered through the rest of what I thought it might be, I tried to read, upside-down, what he was writing. I was curious to see if he was describing the problem in my words or if he had already diagnosed it. But, alas, his handwriting was akin to some doctors who write out a prescription and all the while you’re handing it to the pharmacist you’re hoping against hope they had some type of handwriting deciphering course in college. Not having had that course myself, there was no way I could know what this guy had scribbled on that little notepad. But he seemed pretty confident so I kept talking and he kept writing. Finally, he looked up, and asked me how long it had been sounding like that. Again, I was searching for the words. “Well, I just noticed it a few days ago. But I play the radio pretty loud so it could have been going on for quite some time.” It’s true. Music both soothes my soul and motivates me and it’s a big part of my life. I had only noticed the car’s odd noise when it began to be loud enough to interfere with my listening pleasure. He jotted down another note, took my car key with the promise they would call with an estimate once the mechanic had had a chance to check it out. I felt a little lost, leaving my car and walking away. After all we’d been through….I almost found myself saying, “Please, just take care of her; she’s all I’ve got...”

Now it always makes me a little nervous, waiting for that call. And yesterday was no exception. Within an hour the mechanic called. I missed it but got the voicemail. Of course, he didn’t leave the estimate on the voicemail, only a message to give him a call. I wondered, “Surely he would have left a message if it had been something simple….and inexpensive. What does this mean? A major repair? Thousands of dollars? Is the car beyond help?”

My mind raced as I hesitantly pressed the digits and heard the phone begin to ring. It was like calling my own doctor to find out test results, and hoping for the best, but preparing myself for the not-so-good news.

In the end, it had been a problem that I couldn’t fix. But the mechanic could. Only it would cost me. $500. But for that I would get my car back and she would be better than before. She would have a new wheel bearing assembly and new brakes to boot. And, wow, she sounded so much better, so much quieter.

When I picked up the car that evening, I didn’t turn the music up quite as loud. Instead, I turned it off and just listened a few minutes to her purr. It was like music to my ears. Then the thought of the $500 came to mind. And all the ‘stuff’ I could have bought with that $500. $500?! Why, that’s like….paying a ransom! (Sort of.)

I cranked up the radio. After all, I needed to soothe my soul, and the music did just that. I remembered to not dwell on the problem or what it cost to fix it. I remembered to be thankful it was fixed and me and my car were back in business. I reached down and turned up the music a little louder as Kool & the Gang and I began to sing, “Celebrate good times, c’mon…!” And in that moment, only that moment mattered. Me and my little car, we’re gonna celebrate and have a good time.

Joy. It’s a choice.

Celebrate life,
Jean

From a Galaxy Far, Far Away...

As you begin this new year, let's take a moment to look back, way back, to a time when you had dreams and goals and excitement about reaching them. It may seem far away in the past. It may seem like they've been left in a galaxy far, far away...unreachable.

Today, I encourage you to dust off those dreams. A new year is a brand new opportunity to begin again. It's a great time to leave the past disappointments, the past broken promises, the past failures, all those broken New Year's resolutions right where they belong. In the past.

Some of us begin each new year with a list of resolutions. One of my long-time favorites is: I will lose weight this year! As you can imagine, before the first 30 days are up, I've reverted back to my old habits. So, this year, I decided to trick myself, to not wait until January 1st to make that resolution, but to begin working toward it in November, the day after Thanksgiving. That's right. Black Friday. There could be no better name for the day I began working out than that.

It all started when I learned how to use the Wii. The Wii Fit Plus to be exact. The cool thing was, I decided to trick myself into thinking this was 'just for fun.' I knew if I could keep myself thinking it was fun, I was more apt to use it and thus to get in shape and, even possibly, lose a little weight.

If you've ever used a Wii Fit, you know that, once you've created your Mii character, you then step up on the board and it weighs you. And it did. There was no lying to the thing. Immediately, my little Mii became a slightly bigger Mii. (Okay, I was being kind. It was more than 'slightly.' Oh, so much more!) And that was motivation enough. Now I'm on a mission to make my Mii thinner. And the only way to do that is to make this 'me' thinner. So, for me, this is what 2012 holds.

Of course, there are other goals I've resolved to accomplish. I want to grow personally and professionally and help others do the same. I want to move past my big 'buts' (those things that are holding me back). And, the cool thing is, I know I can.

What's even better is, I know YOU can. Whether you make a New Year's resolution or not, I encourage you to use this new beginning to begin anew. To dust off those dreams, those goals. To reach into that galaxy far, far away and resolve to live your best life, right now

I wish you a very happy, very successful new beginning. Today is yours. Make it so.

Jean

Can I Have a Do-Over?

Have you ever done something, something really, well, let’s just say it: something really stupid. And you wished so much that you could have a do-over? That happened to me just this morning. Well, really, last night. Let me explain.

It all started a few days ago when the strap of my purse broke. I had just received it last month for my birthday from mom. It really wasn’t the purse’s fault. I have a tendency to overstuff my purses until they cry for mercy. Apparently, I didn’t hear the cries of this one until it was too late. (If you’ve seen my You Tube clip, you know I’m not the most organized person when it comes to what I keep in my purse!)

So, having no purse, I decided the next best thing (at least until my next purse-shopping trip) would be to put all my necessities in my pockets. As you can imagine, I really had a hard time making the choice of what to take with me: house keys, car keys, driver’s license, debit card, lipstick, ink pen….you get the picture. By now, my pockets were full. In fact, bulging. From time to time, when I’d sit down, things would fall out and I’d have to recover them and stuff them back in.

Last night, it was time to do the laundry. It was way overdue so the washer was pretty full. (Not to worry; I don’t stuff the washer like I stuff my purse!) It had my best dress pants and blouses in there and a little something that I didn’t discover until the next morning when I took a few things out of the dryer. A little something I’d left in my pocket: a tube of lipstick. Red lipstick.

Only now, the tube was empty.

At that moment of discovery, oh how I wanted a do-over!

I gingerly pulled out each item, separating them into piles of clothes that were okay and clothes that had red lipstick marks on them. Fortunately, only about a third of the clothes were marked.
Sometimes we do things, unintentionally, that have disastrous, or at best unsatisfactory, results. Sometimes we wish we could have a do-over. Sometimes it’s a lot worse than having to replace part of your wardrobe. Maybe you took a career path that didn’t satisfy, voiced an opinion that hurt someone, lost a treasured memento. The key is to move forward. While a do-over would be great, it’s not going to happen. My mother used to say, “Don’t cry over spilled milk.” She encouraged me not to stay in that moment, the one where I messed up, but to move forward and be proactive. Once something has happened, all we can do is move forward, clean up the mess, apologize to the one we hurt or remember to check our pockets before putting clothes in the wash!

So, today, as I write this, I have some of my favorite clothes, lipstick-stained, soaking in the washer. And while I’m hoping that will remedy the situation, I’m prepared to hit up the local thrift store if it doesn’t. (I love thrift store shopping, but that’s a whole ‘nuther story!)

Or, as a friend suggested for a solution, maybe I’ll just Google it!

Rock on,
Jean
www.jeanbaileyrobor.com