August 2nd, 1997……..
Does anyone remember what they were doing on this date 26 years ago? I do. It was the day I married my first husband—Robert. I was the ripe old age of 18, only two months out of high school, and was convinced that I was marrying the man that I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with. Sure there were some things in my head that I was questioning right up to the minute of the wedding but I pushed back those concerns and put on a big smile. I could make this work. I would make this work. I would finally have the "little" family that I wanted for so long.
After the traditional wedding and reception ritual we said goodbye to our families and left on our way. What should have been the happiest day of my life ended with a fight before we were out of the state of Alabama? Oh well, so much for the fairytale. Was the honeymoon over before it even began? My heart screamed: Take me back to my mama! My head screamed back: What? You did this to get away from there and now you want to go back only one night into it? Oh my. What had I done? I cried the whole time we were on our honeymoon. Why was I crying? I had exactly what I wanted. Was this really IT?
We came home and settled into married life. Not much changed from that wedding night…. We continued down the same path. I began working and boy was I ever in for a shock. This was my first real job ever! I had never had to deal with workplace drama and all the procedure and protocol. Wow, family life is hard!
I remember the day that things started to take a downhill turn for me. My Step-Father Robert died. I was devastated. I became very depressed after that. There were days that I would come home from work and crawl into bed and pull the covers over my head. There were days that I wouldn't even get out of bed. I didn't do anything but sleep. It would have been okay if I had never left that bed.
We made it past our first year mark and things were just okay. We were just getting by. At this point I had taken a job in Troy and was very miserable with that decision. I was also working a part time job. I still remember thinking, is this IT? Is this the "happiness" that I have tried to create for myself?
I became even more depressed after the passing of my grandfather. Married life was not okay anymore. All we did was fight. And all I wanted to do was just melt away. I tried talking to him about things and always heard the same answer. Pretty soon, I just wanted to disappear. I couldn't stop crying. I couldn't be happy about anything. I couldn't fix him. I couldn't fix myself. I couldn't fix my "little family". I felt like such a failure.
One morning I woke up and said to myself, I have to do something. I was supposed to go and stay with my brother while my mom was out of town. So I packed up my bag and left that house in the country not realizing then that I would never go back there in the same way. I don't remember much about how or when exactly I made the decision. But I never went back to that house as his wife.
Looking back over the years, I regret the way I left. At the time, I was just doing what I felt was the only thing I knew to do.
When people find out that I have been married before they always ask the same question: Would you do it all again the same way? My answer is always: Absolutely! I would marry him all over again to get to this point in my life. It was a hard road filled with bad choices and some of them I wish I could change. However, it was just the beginning of so many things for me.
Fast forward 13 years…….. And I still look back on August 2, 1997 with some fondness. I married into a wonderful family who I still consider part of me. I made so many wonderful friends, some of which I still keep in contact with. I learned so many lessons. I lived a lifetime in those 22 months we were married. It helped to shape me into the person I am today. It also set the foundation for the wonderful "little family" I have with the true love of my life.
August 2, 1997: An anniversary that I will never forget and one that I hope I can continue to look back on and see how truly blessed my life has been!
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
My Only "Child" - 07-2008
My only "child"
OK, I know for some of you this blog will be somewhat controversial. Right off the bat I want to address the two groups that are bound to have some negative annotation regarding this blog and my feelings discussed herein.
For all the people that have human children and for the others that don't understand "doggy moms" like me: Please do me a favor. Go ahead and read this blog anyway. What I am about to say may not make sense.... and I am sure in some people's minds there will be some sort of judgment cast on my sanity. For those folks, we can just agree that I am mental and leave it at that. For the others, I hope that it sheds a little light on why I am the way I am.
For all the others: (sympathizers, fellow doggy parents, and anyone else that might understand) I appreciate your continued understanding of my feelings.
For as long as I can remember I have always wanted children. When I was 12 or 13 I used to beg my mother to adopt a child so that I could take care of it. (that probably needs some psycho analysis) I have always been in mothering mode in one way or another or felt the urge to be a mother. For example: I always seemed to be the "mother" where my brother was concerned. Where my dad was concerned I always seemed to be required to give the parental type lectures to him about his behavior-- when I was only a teenager myself. When my baby cousin Taylor was born I stepped up and took care of him while my aunt was having some health issues after childbirth. Summer was the perfect time for the little mother I was, because babysitting duty was always available.
Even after I married the first time, I helped to take care of friend's children before I had to go out and get a "real" job. And even after I started to work I would always try to spend time with them. It is hard to put my finger on what the feeling was that I got from taking care of children was. But the first thing that comes to mind is that it gave me a sense of accomplishment to take care of someone. The feeling of being unconditionally loved is one of the most indescribable feelings. The way it feels to be needed by a child. All of those feelings that "mothering" brings to me are hard to name but easily desired whatever the feelings may be.
With all that said, I have always had an innate sense of urgency to be a mother and have a family.
Bryan and I have been married going on about 7 years. We have always been very driven in our work. And have only in the past two years both felt the intense urge to start our family. It has always been there but I think it has accelerated with each passing year.
Even early on in our marriage I felt the need to have something to need me, and love me. So I did what any wife would do. I bought Bryan a dog for his birthday. Ha! In my mind he was the one that wanted the dog—so I was doing something nice for him. However, that first day after bringing Wilson home I became very concerned. I put him on his pillow down beside my desk and just knew that he would sleep there for several hours. I began to work and the next thing I know there was the tiniest little licks on my leg. I ignored him at first, but then I heard a little puppy whimper! Oh! Be still my heart! I scooped him up and comforted him. He politely walked right up my arm and curled his little body around my neck. He placed his little face right up next to the side of my neck. And before I could get him down, I could tell from his breathing that he was fast asleep. I let him stay there for a while and then tried to position him back to his bed on the floor. We repeated the same steps over again for the entire day. I thought to myself, "What have I done?"
The next day Wilson got really sick. I was a wreck. I didn't know what to do with this tiny sick puppy! Why do bad things always happen when your spouse is at work and not there to help you handle them? Haha
Needless to say I pulled it together and took him to the vet. The vet walked in and asked what was going on. I got about three words out of my mouth and suddenly burst into tears. I immediately thought to myself, "you idiot you are going to scare this man to death." I stopped talking to him and just looked at him. He smiled and said "Its okay, it sounds like just a virus." After that type of reassurance I felt sort of silly. But I was still worried. The Vet quickly gave him a few shots and handed me bottles of medication and a lot of instructions. "Call me if you need me", he said.
I got into my car with this tiny almost lifeless puppy. He was wrapped up in one of Bryan's t-shirts. You could only see his little face sticking out. And that's when the worry set in. I said to myself, "this is just a dog, try not to freak out about it." My brain heard it but my heart didn't get the same memo. I had fallen in love with that tiny puppy in a matter of two short days! Wilson recovered shortly from the virus but my life has not been the same since!
Wilson quickly became a member of our family. He soon had his own little doggy wardrobe, his own travel bag, his own little home, his own blanket, pillow….. Well okay, he soon took over the house and everything was his. We started our little photography sessions that evolved into the infamous Christmas card pictures.
In 2004, Wilson had an unexplainable episode. Of course I was alone at work when it happened. I rushed home to Bryan and said "oh my goodness, I do not know what to do." But, by the time I got Wilson home the spell was over. I was crying and shaking. Bryan is just standing there with a grin on his face and telling me to get it together. After a lot of worry and yet another visit to the vet the next morning we learned that our "dog" has Epilepsy. I cannot imagine watching a human having a seizure, much less my little "dog". It is a scary thing to see. Even when it happens now, it still scares me.
In 2005, Wilson began to hide from me and to act like he was in terrible pain. I took him to the vet. He assured me that Wilson was okay and that he should be back to normal the next day. The next day Wilson was not better, in fact he was worse! I rushed him back up to the office and demanded we get to the bottom of this. I was in that office about 1 and a half hours. I watched the vet treat him like he was a "dog". Wilson was in pain and became a dog that I didn't know. He snapped at the vet tech and the vet when they tried to hold him down on his back to do an x-ray of his spine. That vet brought my dog back in the room covered in poop and he was holding him by the neck with his body dangling unsupported. (Thinking back I probably should have sued him for some sort of doggy malpractice) Wilson was scared to death.
The doctor finally called me into the hall to look at the x-rays. He said, "Wilson has intervertebral disc disease. We can treat it with steroids and cage rest or we can refer him to Auburn for surgery." I immediately said "Get me the first appointment you can with Auburn."
I walked out of that office not really comprehending what he had just said to me and everything that had just happened to Wilson. I was just concentrating on getting Wilson calmed down and back home. I got home and got Wilson bathed and settled onto his bed. I was okay…..until I googled: Interverterbral Disc Disease Daschund. I read all the information and it was only then that I understood what we were in for. I cried for the next several weeks.
We went to our appointment in Auburn. These docs are brilliant with what they do…….but they still treated Wilson like he was a "dog". They asked us to leave Wilson for two days for testing. I was beside myself. Bryan didn't really understand why I was losing my mind. The neurologist finally calls and tells us that he needs surgery and that there are all kinds of bad complications that could happen either way—if he has it or doesn't have it. I cry some more.
We decide to proceed with the surgery. I had to leave my "dog" in Auburn for several days. How is this fair? Why do they insist on treating him like he is just some "dog"? He is practically my child and I had to leave him in a cage knowing he was scared. It broke my heart to leave knowing that he was going to have this huge operation on his spinal cord the next day and that if something happened to him that I would never get to see him again. I was emotionally a wreck.
Long story short…Wilson came through the operation and had no side effects at all. He is as active now as he has ever been. The surgery was very successful. And I am forever grateful.
Going through all of that with him has only made me love him even more. He is truly our "doggy baby". And although some people will never understand that "dog" is just like our child in as many ways as he can possibly be. He loves us unconditionally. He always forgives us and he always is glad to see us come home. He never talks back to us. He is never rude or disrespectful, even when he gets in trouble for tearing up his toys. He doesn't even hold it against me when I forget his birthday. ** See note**
Some people have voiced their opinions to me about my feelings about Wilson. I admit that sometimes I am a little overly sensitive when people just don't understand. But please think of it this way, you just may not really understand what is going on in someone's life. If a "dog" brings them happiness then far be it from me to say anything negative about it.
In my situation, most of my close friends and family know that Bryan & I have under gone some fertility treatments in the past two years. Awhile back I found out that I have Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome and also found out that I have only one fallopian tube. These two issues make my chances of conceiving naturally very slim. According to my doctor the average person has a 50% chance each month of conceiving. My chances with fertility drugs and fertility procedures (other than IVF) are around 10%. So for me, I just do what I can to try and understand why things are the way they are. And I hope that people maybe can understand me a little better after reading this. So, for all of you parents out there who don't understand "doggy parents". I ask you to think of what your life might be like if you didn't have children but still had the aching to have them. For me being a "doggy parent" is my own way of keeping my sanity until God blesses us with a child or until He makes it clear to me that being a "real" parent is not in His plan for me. Until then, I will continue to be the whacky woman with the dog she loves too much.
In closing I want to address something someone said to me a while back. She said "Jennifer, you just will never know love- until you are loved by a child." While this person meant well; she has two children. I think that I know a good bit about love. While I may never know the love of a child as a parent, I do know the love of a "dog". Be that what it may.
I hope that this might explain my feelings on the situation to anyone that might not understand why I am they way I am when it comes to my dog. If not, I feel better--- just getting some things of my chest here.
(*** I forgot Wilson's B-day this year!! I was so upset at myself about it but knew that I couldn't tell many people that would understand. So I did this blog to try and make myself feel better and to at least proclaim to the world how much I love this "doggy baby". ) Look for pictures to be posted soon of his belated birthday party! hahaha
OK, I know for some of you this blog will be somewhat controversial. Right off the bat I want to address the two groups that are bound to have some negative annotation regarding this blog and my feelings discussed herein.
For all the people that have human children and for the others that don't understand "doggy moms" like me: Please do me a favor. Go ahead and read this blog anyway. What I am about to say may not make sense.... and I am sure in some people's minds there will be some sort of judgment cast on my sanity. For those folks, we can just agree that I am mental and leave it at that. For the others, I hope that it sheds a little light on why I am the way I am.
For all the others: (sympathizers, fellow doggy parents, and anyone else that might understand) I appreciate your continued understanding of my feelings.
For as long as I can remember I have always wanted children. When I was 12 or 13 I used to beg my mother to adopt a child so that I could take care of it. (that probably needs some psycho analysis) I have always been in mothering mode in one way or another or felt the urge to be a mother. For example: I always seemed to be the "mother" where my brother was concerned. Where my dad was concerned I always seemed to be required to give the parental type lectures to him about his behavior-- when I was only a teenager myself. When my baby cousin Taylor was born I stepped up and took care of him while my aunt was having some health issues after childbirth. Summer was the perfect time for the little mother I was, because babysitting duty was always available.
Even after I married the first time, I helped to take care of friend's children before I had to go out and get a "real" job. And even after I started to work I would always try to spend time with them. It is hard to put my finger on what the feeling was that I got from taking care of children was. But the first thing that comes to mind is that it gave me a sense of accomplishment to take care of someone. The feeling of being unconditionally loved is one of the most indescribable feelings. The way it feels to be needed by a child. All of those feelings that "mothering" brings to me are hard to name but easily desired whatever the feelings may be.
With all that said, I have always had an innate sense of urgency to be a mother and have a family.
Bryan and I have been married going on about 7 years. We have always been very driven in our work. And have only in the past two years both felt the intense urge to start our family. It has always been there but I think it has accelerated with each passing year.
Even early on in our marriage I felt the need to have something to need me, and love me. So I did what any wife would do. I bought Bryan a dog for his birthday. Ha! In my mind he was the one that wanted the dog—so I was doing something nice for him. However, that first day after bringing Wilson home I became very concerned. I put him on his pillow down beside my desk and just knew that he would sleep there for several hours. I began to work and the next thing I know there was the tiniest little licks on my leg. I ignored him at first, but then I heard a little puppy whimper! Oh! Be still my heart! I scooped him up and comforted him. He politely walked right up my arm and curled his little body around my neck. He placed his little face right up next to the side of my neck. And before I could get him down, I could tell from his breathing that he was fast asleep. I let him stay there for a while and then tried to position him back to his bed on the floor. We repeated the same steps over again for the entire day. I thought to myself, "What have I done?"
The next day Wilson got really sick. I was a wreck. I didn't know what to do with this tiny sick puppy! Why do bad things always happen when your spouse is at work and not there to help you handle them? Haha
Needless to say I pulled it together and took him to the vet. The vet walked in and asked what was going on. I got about three words out of my mouth and suddenly burst into tears. I immediately thought to myself, "you idiot you are going to scare this man to death." I stopped talking to him and just looked at him. He smiled and said "Its okay, it sounds like just a virus." After that type of reassurance I felt sort of silly. But I was still worried. The Vet quickly gave him a few shots and handed me bottles of medication and a lot of instructions. "Call me if you need me", he said.
I got into my car with this tiny almost lifeless puppy. He was wrapped up in one of Bryan's t-shirts. You could only see his little face sticking out. And that's when the worry set in. I said to myself, "this is just a dog, try not to freak out about it." My brain heard it but my heart didn't get the same memo. I had fallen in love with that tiny puppy in a matter of two short days! Wilson recovered shortly from the virus but my life has not been the same since!
Wilson quickly became a member of our family. He soon had his own little doggy wardrobe, his own travel bag, his own little home, his own blanket, pillow….. Well okay, he soon took over the house and everything was his. We started our little photography sessions that evolved into the infamous Christmas card pictures.
In 2004, Wilson had an unexplainable episode. Of course I was alone at work when it happened. I rushed home to Bryan and said "oh my goodness, I do not know what to do." But, by the time I got Wilson home the spell was over. I was crying and shaking. Bryan is just standing there with a grin on his face and telling me to get it together. After a lot of worry and yet another visit to the vet the next morning we learned that our "dog" has Epilepsy. I cannot imagine watching a human having a seizure, much less my little "dog". It is a scary thing to see. Even when it happens now, it still scares me.
In 2005, Wilson began to hide from me and to act like he was in terrible pain. I took him to the vet. He assured me that Wilson was okay and that he should be back to normal the next day. The next day Wilson was not better, in fact he was worse! I rushed him back up to the office and demanded we get to the bottom of this. I was in that office about 1 and a half hours. I watched the vet treat him like he was a "dog". Wilson was in pain and became a dog that I didn't know. He snapped at the vet tech and the vet when they tried to hold him down on his back to do an x-ray of his spine. That vet brought my dog back in the room covered in poop and he was holding him by the neck with his body dangling unsupported. (Thinking back I probably should have sued him for some sort of doggy malpractice) Wilson was scared to death.
The doctor finally called me into the hall to look at the x-rays. He said, "Wilson has intervertebral disc disease. We can treat it with steroids and cage rest or we can refer him to Auburn for surgery." I immediately said "Get me the first appointment you can with Auburn."
I walked out of that office not really comprehending what he had just said to me and everything that had just happened to Wilson. I was just concentrating on getting Wilson calmed down and back home. I got home and got Wilson bathed and settled onto his bed. I was okay…..until I googled: Interverterbral Disc Disease Daschund. I read all the information and it was only then that I understood what we were in for. I cried for the next several weeks.
We went to our appointment in Auburn. These docs are brilliant with what they do…….but they still treated Wilson like he was a "dog". They asked us to leave Wilson for two days for testing. I was beside myself. Bryan didn't really understand why I was losing my mind. The neurologist finally calls and tells us that he needs surgery and that there are all kinds of bad complications that could happen either way—if he has it or doesn't have it. I cry some more.
We decide to proceed with the surgery. I had to leave my "dog" in Auburn for several days. How is this fair? Why do they insist on treating him like he is just some "dog"? He is practically my child and I had to leave him in a cage knowing he was scared. It broke my heart to leave knowing that he was going to have this huge operation on his spinal cord the next day and that if something happened to him that I would never get to see him again. I was emotionally a wreck.
Long story short…Wilson came through the operation and had no side effects at all. He is as active now as he has ever been. The surgery was very successful. And I am forever grateful.
Going through all of that with him has only made me love him even more. He is truly our "doggy baby". And although some people will never understand that "dog" is just like our child in as many ways as he can possibly be. He loves us unconditionally. He always forgives us and he always is glad to see us come home. He never talks back to us. He is never rude or disrespectful, even when he gets in trouble for tearing up his toys. He doesn't even hold it against me when I forget his birthday. ** See note**
Some people have voiced their opinions to me about my feelings about Wilson. I admit that sometimes I am a little overly sensitive when people just don't understand. But please think of it this way, you just may not really understand what is going on in someone's life. If a "dog" brings them happiness then far be it from me to say anything negative about it.
In my situation, most of my close friends and family know that Bryan & I have under gone some fertility treatments in the past two years. Awhile back I found out that I have Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome and also found out that I have only one fallopian tube. These two issues make my chances of conceiving naturally very slim. According to my doctor the average person has a 50% chance each month of conceiving. My chances with fertility drugs and fertility procedures (other than IVF) are around 10%. So for me, I just do what I can to try and understand why things are the way they are. And I hope that people maybe can understand me a little better after reading this. So, for all of you parents out there who don't understand "doggy parents". I ask you to think of what your life might be like if you didn't have children but still had the aching to have them. For me being a "doggy parent" is my own way of keeping my sanity until God blesses us with a child or until He makes it clear to me that being a "real" parent is not in His plan for me. Until then, I will continue to be the whacky woman with the dog she loves too much.
In closing I want to address something someone said to me a while back. She said "Jennifer, you just will never know love- until you are loved by a child." While this person meant well; she has two children. I think that I know a good bit about love. While I may never know the love of a child as a parent, I do know the love of a "dog". Be that what it may.
I hope that this might explain my feelings on the situation to anyone that might not understand why I am they way I am when it comes to my dog. If not, I feel better--- just getting some things of my chest here.
(*** I forgot Wilson's B-day this year!! I was so upset at myself about it but knew that I couldn't tell many people that would understand. So I did this blog to try and make myself feel better and to at least proclaim to the world how much I love this "doggy baby". ) Look for pictures to be posted soon of his belated birthday party! hahaha
Eulogy for my Grandmother 4/28/2007
Eulogy for my Grandmother!
(this was written on the morning of her funeral 4-28-07, I was able to speak at the funeral. Thank God, I didnt break down! )
What can you say in a few words about the passing of a grandmother? There are so many memories that I could share, so many things to say. Each of us grandchildren has so many memories of her. However, today I want to share a few things that granny taught me.
Granny taught me a lot about life. She taught me the importance of living a good Christian life. – She always made sure that we heard about Jesus. And if she wasn't telling us to go to church….then she was taking us to church. And if she wasn't talking about the bible or Jesus…then she was singing about it. I remember so fondly those times in church…… sitting on that second row at Ebenezer Baptist church. You could always hear her sing. Even as she got older and her vision failed. She would sing from memory. She knew the words and never missed a note. She had two jobs during church……..one was to keep us grand children behaving; the other was to keep grand-daddy from sleeping.
She taught me about keeping gas in the car! One summer Krysten, Granny and I were going to town. However, Granny was very low on gas. So, granny had to coast downhill. But while shifting gears on the automatic car---granny missed the N and hit the R. We went back up that hill screeching tires. From that day on I was so scared of having to coast downhill that now I make sure to keep a full tank of gas.
She taught me the importance of knowing when to shut up! Around the age of 13 or 14 she and I began to not get a long so well. It was only because my smart mouth seemed to not know when to shut up. Later on in life, I learned that sometimes you just have to let her win……. Because most of the time granny was always right! (And now looking back, she really was right)
She taught me respect for other people's things. While we were young and rambunctious……. Something would eventually get broken. She would usually be really mad or really sad….and then say " I CANT have NOTHING!" Now when something breaks at my house, those 4 words come racing back. Usually once I say them, I cant help but smile.
She taught me about soap opera's. I can't tell you how many summer days I spent at her house watching As the World Turns and Guiding light. Some could argue that this is a bad habit to have. But for now, I will watch them just to feel close to her. I know just how much she loved them.
She taught me the importance of family. It was the second thanksgiving that my husband and I spent in our new house. And we wanted so badly to have everyone over for thanksgiving. Granny was a little reluctant, but she came. She and mom spent the night at my house the night before. We cooked that night and then we all three settled in the living room to watch some television. I think at some point, all of us, mom, granny and I ended up on the couch. I remember my husband Bryan coming in and saying: "That's a couch full of Downs's!" It was okay, because for that one moment in my life—all was right with the world. That was the first and the last time that she spent the night at my house. But for me, it was a memory that I will cherish forever.
She taught me to appreciate flowers. I can't tell you how many times we got in trouble growing up because we would pick her camellias and hydrangeas. To Krysten and I they were just ingredients in our mud pies. But to granny they were God's beauty come to life. Now each day I can look out and appreciate the flowers a little more.
She taught me a good bit about cooking. We all know that grandmothers are the best cooks. I have so many memories of cooking with her. Mostly I remember taking all of my cooking experiments to her to taste. Believe it or not she always liked whatever I took her.
And finally, she taught me the importance of having a handkerchief. Granny always had a handkerchief in her purse for runny noses or tears. Today most of us carry a handkerchief to wipe our tears of sorrow for her. But we should all find joy in knowing that Granny no longer needs her handkerchief. She is happy in Heaven reunited with grand-daddy.
So, in closing let us all remember the lessons that she taught us.
-a love for Jesus
- Always keep gas in the car!
- Respect for others
- A love for family
- Stop and appreciate the flowers
- How to enjoy a good home cooked meal
- Love your grandchildren!
We should all take those lessons to heart and pass them on to everyone we can! One can only hope that we could be half the person she was.
I love you granny and miss you more than words could say!
(this was written on the morning of her funeral 4-28-07, I was able to speak at the funeral. Thank God, I didnt break down! )
What can you say in a few words about the passing of a grandmother? There are so many memories that I could share, so many things to say. Each of us grandchildren has so many memories of her. However, today I want to share a few things that granny taught me.
Granny taught me a lot about life. She taught me the importance of living a good Christian life. – She always made sure that we heard about Jesus. And if she wasn't telling us to go to church….then she was taking us to church. And if she wasn't talking about the bible or Jesus…then she was singing about it. I remember so fondly those times in church…… sitting on that second row at Ebenezer Baptist church. You could always hear her sing. Even as she got older and her vision failed. She would sing from memory. She knew the words and never missed a note. She had two jobs during church……..one was to keep us grand children behaving; the other was to keep grand-daddy from sleeping.
She taught me about keeping gas in the car! One summer Krysten, Granny and I were going to town. However, Granny was very low on gas. So, granny had to coast downhill. But while shifting gears on the automatic car---granny missed the N and hit the R. We went back up that hill screeching tires. From that day on I was so scared of having to coast downhill that now I make sure to keep a full tank of gas.
She taught me the importance of knowing when to shut up! Around the age of 13 or 14 she and I began to not get a long so well. It was only because my smart mouth seemed to not know when to shut up. Later on in life, I learned that sometimes you just have to let her win……. Because most of the time granny was always right! (And now looking back, she really was right)
She taught me respect for other people's things. While we were young and rambunctious……. Something would eventually get broken. She would usually be really mad or really sad….and then say " I CANT have NOTHING!" Now when something breaks at my house, those 4 words come racing back. Usually once I say them, I cant help but smile.
She taught me about soap opera's. I can't tell you how many summer days I spent at her house watching As the World Turns and Guiding light. Some could argue that this is a bad habit to have. But for now, I will watch them just to feel close to her. I know just how much she loved them.
She taught me the importance of family. It was the second thanksgiving that my husband and I spent in our new house. And we wanted so badly to have everyone over for thanksgiving. Granny was a little reluctant, but she came. She and mom spent the night at my house the night before. We cooked that night and then we all three settled in the living room to watch some television. I think at some point, all of us, mom, granny and I ended up on the couch. I remember my husband Bryan coming in and saying: "That's a couch full of Downs's!" It was okay, because for that one moment in my life—all was right with the world. That was the first and the last time that she spent the night at my house. But for me, it was a memory that I will cherish forever.
She taught me to appreciate flowers. I can't tell you how many times we got in trouble growing up because we would pick her camellias and hydrangeas. To Krysten and I they were just ingredients in our mud pies. But to granny they were God's beauty come to life. Now each day I can look out and appreciate the flowers a little more.
She taught me a good bit about cooking. We all know that grandmothers are the best cooks. I have so many memories of cooking with her. Mostly I remember taking all of my cooking experiments to her to taste. Believe it or not she always liked whatever I took her.
And finally, she taught me the importance of having a handkerchief. Granny always had a handkerchief in her purse for runny noses or tears. Today most of us carry a handkerchief to wipe our tears of sorrow for her. But we should all find joy in knowing that Granny no longer needs her handkerchief. She is happy in Heaven reunited with grand-daddy.
So, in closing let us all remember the lessons that she taught us.
-a love for Jesus
- Always keep gas in the car!
- Respect for others
- A love for family
- Stop and appreciate the flowers
- How to enjoy a good home cooked meal
- Love your grandchildren!
We should all take those lessons to heart and pass them on to everyone we can! One can only hope that we could be half the person she was.
I love you granny and miss you more than words could say!
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