December of Blessings

December 13th

Eric and I hosted our third annual Christmas Brunch for the Senior Brunch Bunch from church.  Eric is in the background, washing dishes and I'm behind the camera.  There are a couple folks missing that normally attend because they weren't feeling well.  The idea for this brunch came from hoping that we could run over to Lavender Springs where Mom and Dad Cox were living and bring them to our place to enjoy a meal with friends they could not longer see very often.  Covid had other plans and both of them died before we could make this brunch happen.  We now do it in their honor and have a lovely picture of them, front and center.

December 16-20

I subbed the entire week before Christmas so a teacher friend that loves Disney, could take her family there as a surprise.

This picture is much sweeter without the sticker, but I have not asked for permission to post her picture from her sweet momma.  Nor will I ask for it.  She's a student at the school where I substitute teach and this was the last day of school in December.  She is sweet and kind and helpful and studious and gives the best hugs. We give side-hugs at work to protect both student and adult from anything untoward. She's one of those children who manages to give hugs at just the right moment; when I feel like my head is going to explode because other children are being disrespectful and rude. Her hugs last a moment too long and that's when all the crankiness I'm feeling seems to just dissolve.  She has a gift and she shares it freely with me.  Thank goodness for her!

December 21st

These four little people are my delight and joy.  I call them The Grands.  We got to hang out with them two weekends in a row because their wonderful momma, our daughter-in-love, runs a business out of their home and Saturdays are when she normally has a client.  It's easier on everyone if my son brings the kids to play at our house.  December was full of crazy warm days and both Saturdays we spent most of the day outside riding mini-bikes, coloring with chalk, going up and down our very steep driveway on bikes and other wheeled things, eating, laughing and having an indoor 'snowball' fight.  They were a gift from my sister, the last Christmas she was alive.  She hoped we'd remember her as being fun.  Goodness, how she would have loved to be a part of this snowball fight.  I think she was there in spirit for sure.  This is the first year the kids have been brave enough to actually throw something in the house--we've had them for 3 years.  Like all good grown-ups we usually have a rule about throwing things in the house or at each other.  This rule doesn't apply here. 

December 22nd

We went to our son-in-love's ordination in San Antonio on the 22nd.  We were able to share in this special day with him, our daughter, his parents and brother, along with congregants we know and love. 

December 25th

Turns out I don't take many pictures on Christmas Day.  I'm in the moment, especially when it comes to having a house full of loved ones.  We had Quinn, Preston and Katie and their four for lunch and presents.  We shared fajitas, sugar cookies and a lemon pound cake.  Giant holiday feasts have gone the wayside to a meal prepared with love and shared with loved ones.  Jenna and Jeremy were at home in San Antonio with his family for Christmas Day.  

January 1st

Jenna and Jeremy came to the house to celebrate Christmas with those of us that didn't get to see them for the 25th.  Eric and I are very loose when it comes to having feelings about seeing our adult children on the actual day of a holiday.  It's just a day on the calendar, after all.  What's important is that we see each other.  Sadly, Preston and Katie and the kids could not attend like they had planned.  They all ended up with a virus of some sort and they made the call to not share this particular gift with the rest of us.  

My niece Sarah and her family got to come as well. All three of her teenagers took on my Christmas challenge,  which was to swim across our pool.  They all did it and one even did it twice!   I don't think  the pool is even 65º.  

Our meal was simple.  A taco/nacho bar with chocolate chip cookie bars and all sorts of random Christmas candy.  

There wasn't one day with family that wasn't perfect and full of love and laughter. 

We have some big things coming this year.  Eric and I are "visiting winter" in Montana for the first time.  We have two new Grands due in the springtime. One to Preston and Katie and the other to Jenna and Jeremy.  Quinn is finally at a place with his new job where he feels comfortable moving out.  He had intentions of doing so last year, but the owner of the design studio he worked at, closed for good.  Luckily, he hadn't signed a lease on an apartment before that happened.  

Blessings abound.  We are so fortunate and don't take anything in our lives for granted.  Looking forward to what this year holds, despite my lingering worry about politics in our country and worldwide. 

Oddly Thankful

My parents were divorced after a 26 year go at a second marriage for both of them.  Bi-Polar disease, alcoholism and PTSD won in a marriage where one couldn't fight it anymore and the other one couldn't deal with it anymore.  I was left alone to care for him, at age 20.  I had hoped for help from his daughters from his first marriage.  They had lives in California and memories of him that didn't mesh with picking up their lives and running to his aid.

I used to be sad that my father's daughters, my half sisters, parted ways with me so easily when he died.  It was over a coffee table that one of them wanted that she had seen in his apartment.  I gave it to my mother, their step-mother instead.  After lengthy letters of ranting and raving and several phone calls threatening me, they finally gave up.  They wanted a piece of my father that wasn't mine to give.  I was collateral damage. 

I was raised around them.  In fact, at one time or another, each of them had lived in my house.  They are/were 18, 15 and 9 years older than me.  The oldest one died in 2022.  I only know that because I search obituaries once a year.  Eventually they all grew up and realized our house wasn't any better than they hoped it would be and all moved to California to be nearer their own mother.  The oldest one was married a couple times. She had a son. She was an artist. She drowned her demons in a bottle like my dad.  She was the kindest to me of the three.  I guess because by the time I came into her life, she was already out on her own for the most part.  The second one was the one that got up and out.  She excelled in school and ended up moving to Japan for a bit.  I think it was to teach English.  She came back to the US with a husband, his two children and it wasn't long before they had a child of their own. I think she liked me okay, but she was also fairly grown by the time I was born. She seems to have lived a life of her own choosing and I think she dodged the substance abuse and mental illness bullet.  The youngest had a common-law husband that was a much, much older than her.  He was only 12 years younger than our father.  They had two children, lived on hillside in the mountains of northern California and grew and smoked a lot of pot.  She is bi-polar like my Dad was and so is one of her children.  I know this because of her Facebook page.  She's a mess.  I have no idea how she'd stayed alive as long as she has.  I feel badly for anyone that has to suffer with untreated mental illness.  It's relentless and wears thin the fabric of family and friends. She is not in contact with the remaining sister or her other child.  She and her son are in and out of one another's orbits when it suits them; which is also typical of mental illness. 

All of this is just to say that I think of them often and wonder what it would be like to have had a relationship with them.  It's been 33 years since I've spoken to any of them.  I think of them more now that my own family of origin is gone.  A family that was also so very dysfunctional.  I'm fairly certain the life they think they missed out on with our father, was a gift they didn't know they'd been given.  He was a wonderful man with a disease and memories of war, that wouldn't have been any different if he'd stayed married to their mother.  They were girls that missed their father.  I miss my father too. 

I am oddly thankful, that we parted was when we did.  I have had plenty of drama and life lessons with family members and mental illness.  It's all about perspective, I suppose.  Like them, I was given a gift I didn't know I had been given, when they cut ties with me.  You know what's weird though. My mom sold that coffee table a few years later in a garage sale.  

Thanksgiving Photos or Not

 I am terrible at taking family photos during events.  Seems impossible given the fact that everyone has a phone with a camera in their pocket.  
A long time ago, back when scrapbooking was a thing, I took a class at Michaels.  The one thing the instructor pounded into us was that every photo should be written on with names, dates, and occasions.  If you're as old as I am, you've gone through your parents boxes of photos and perhaps even your own and discovered photos with people you don't remember or places you don't remember.  You question why you have so many pictures of flowers and triplicates of blurry photos.  All that is to say the reason I don't take pictures is that I feel like my memories are where all the things in my life should be stored.  I have so many photos on my phone right now that are of people I love.  Random photos of family events never take in the faces and the feelings they need to convey, so I don't take very many any more.  Asking 11 people to stop what they're doing to take a formal "Thanksgiving 2024" picture also seems too much to ask.  There's a dark part of me that creeps up every now and then and thinks, "what if so-and-so isn't at the next Thanksgiving...wouldn't you wish you'd taken a photo?". That's a sad reason to take a picture.  
And for the sake of this publication of my own making, I don't feel right posting pictures anymore of people that haven't given their consent. 

So, here is a list of our Thanksgiving meal.  My kids all pitched in to make this meal.  The gluten free rolls and cookies turned into gf biscuits (horrible, never making them again) and gf cake, which the kids all love. Everyone seemed happy and untroubled.  Everyone got along.  There was lots of discussion about the addition of not one, but two high chairs at next year's Thanksgiving dinner.  Instead of eating at the ginormous dining room table, everyone ended up jammed in around our kitchen table and standing/eating at the counter that overlooks the kitchen table.  What used to be a very formal affair is now laid back and I think everyone likes it better that way.  We serve buffet style so everyone can grab a plate and eat it while it's still hot following the prayer instead of waiting on everyone to be served.  The oldest two Grands pretty much make their own plate and the youngest have someone go through with them and help grab what they want.  Someone else is usually grabbing them all something to drink or something else they didn't see on their first walk through the food line.  Eric and I discovered the magic of the air fryer this year--we knew the Grands wouldn't like scalloped potatoes (more for the grownups!), so Preston brought his air fryer to make quick work of frozen french fries.  Still debating on whether we can give up the counter space for one ourselves.  The desserts, made by me, left a bit to be desired.  I used Pumpkin Pie Spice mix instead of the individual spices and it tasted very much like cloves.  I got behind and failed to whip the whipped cream and so we used the aersol canned stuff that came free with a purchase of something else. Whatever the brand was, it didn't taste good at all.  So, the dessert let down was on me. No one else complained.  I'm my own worst critic. I tried a different recipe for the crust on both pies and will be going back to the old recipe of just Crisco and not mix it with butter.  Just my preference to work with it, alone. The weather has been unusually warm this year, but we got a break and Fall actually made an appearance with a high of 55º instead of 85º.  The sun peeked out just long enough for the Grands to play outside a bit before packing up to head off to their Mimi and G-Pa's house for their second Thanksgiving with Katie's family.  It was a perfect day. I feel blessed beyond measure when my whole clan is together.  The chaos is of the very best kind.  Cross-talk and laughter and in and out of the house are what bring me the greatest joy.

I Should Be Running on Empty

I intended to write last Sunday with something light, something that brings me joy.  
I find God and peace, and joy and solace in nature.  I thought I'd post some pictures of nature (and I still will), but lately, I've been finding God in church and my people as well.  My church family, as I refer to them.  It's not that I don't find God at church, it's just that I am able to find complete, meditative time with God when I'm outdoors.

My congregation is very small.  We run about 25 in attendance on a good Sunday.  Some Sundays we are down to about 10.  My church, Community of Christ, is all volunteers (lay-ministers) except for most of our World Church ministers.  What that means is, many people wear several proverbial hats in order for us to function as a congregation.  

I am one of the co-pastors.  

I am the webmaster for our congregational webpage. 

I am the primary contributor and admin for our congregational Facebook page. 

I am the calendar keeper. 

I work on a breakfast team to cook for the homeless population, once a month.

I am the person who organizes our social gatherings and potlucks. 

I am the person (called a Recorder) who makes sure our world church membership team knows about changes in our membership (deaths, births, baptisms, confirmations, marriages, address changes, adoptions, ordinations, and transfers).  

I am the person who makes sure email is received, sent and replied to within our congregation. 

I am also wearing some hats for my church, outside my home congregation.  

I am the webmaster for what is called a Mission Center, which includes 12 congregations in Southeast/Central Texas and far Western Louisiana.  

I am the primary contributor and admin for my Mission Center Facebook page.

I am the Recorder for the Mission Center as well.  

Lastly, I am the webmaster for our church youth camp. 

I should be out of fuel, cranky and feeling dumped on.  The thing is, I volunteered for all of these things.  I'm good at them. The webpages and Facebook pages are work of my own doing; no one asked me to do them.  I believe people need to be connected and if no one else is doing it, then I'm going to do it. 

What's weird about all these things, is they make me feel good doing them. I have finally come to a place in my life where I feel closer to God by doing things for His people.  Connection is vital. Connection brings hope.  Giving hope when I can, and being open to receiving hope when I'm running on empty, is the lifeblood of hope.  Romans 12:1-2 says this: "Therefore, I urge you, my brothers and sisters, in view of God's mercy, to present your whole self.  All of you.  Present your whole self to God. Not just the face-tuned version of yourself.  Present your whole self.  With all the broken bits and fragments. Present yourself to God."

Having hope today was easy.  I spent the morning with my congregation.  I spent yesterday with people from my Mission Center and World Church, talking about and voting on things that move the message, the real message of Christ, forward.  I am proud of my church. We honor and uphold so many things that other so-called Christians have declared war on--namely, the worth of ALL people. God loves his creation, all of us and the world created for us. He does not love the Bible, the book so many people pick and choose from to spread hatred and fear. He does not love the state of those in charge of my country now, and even less those that will be in charge come January. 
No one is perfect, but Christ the perfect one, came to teach us. God sent Christ to speak loudly enough so everyone would hear.  Evidently, we weren't listening, especially those who love power more than their fellow human beings.  Despite all this, I have hope.  I have hope because I know whose teaching I will follow in the years to come. It will be hard. It may wound me, tear at my heart and soul.  However, I know that if I am in the service of God's message of love through Christ, I can share that hope. Love, Hope, Peace and Joy.  

Tomorrow hope may be just out of reach, but today is enough.  I will deal with tomorrow, tomorrow.

He's Never...

 Yesterday, someone that I love, who happens to be male, said that I and all women have nothing to be afraid of.  Nothing will change now that Trump has won. 

That person has no idea what they are talking about.  Evidently, the overturn of Roe V. Wade during his last administration was no big deal.  Women's access to abortion is so much more than some girl who got pregnant and doesn't want a baby.  He needs to read and understand about women who have died while waiting for a D&C after their much wanted baby has died in utero. Doctors failed to perform a medical procedure because of fear of being arrested.  He needs to read about a woman who has lost her ability to have a baby at all because her uterus had to be removed after she became septic during her pregnancy.  He needs to read about women being arrested for having a miscarriage because someone thinks she took a pill that caused it.  He's never gotten the run-around on an appointment because his gynecologist has too many patients because obstetricians and gynecologists are fleeing the professions like rats on a sinking ship.

Trump saying "Grab 'em by the pussy and you can do anything." was no big deal.  He has never been grabbed by the ass or the pussy and then gaslighted. "It was all just in fun.  What's the big deal?" My job was the big deal! I needed the job.  I was in my 20's and had bills to pay.  Instead of blowing this boss's life up and potentially the lives of my co-workers, I lived with the "attention" for far too long and then quit. 

He's was never taken advantage of when he was 12, by a 16 year old.

He's never slept in oppressive heat because leaving the window open would make it easy to access his room while he slept. 

He's never been followed in the tunnels under a stadium by a man and then felt relief when a door opened and he could step inside.

He's never been followed to his car, so. many. times!!

He's never carried his keys between his fingers when walking alone. 

He's never been afraid while walking alone. 

He's never thought, a day in his life, "I hope a man doesn't kill or rape me today."

Women live in fear, every. single. day. of. their. lives.   Women have been controlled by governments since the beginning of time.  Women have been controlled by men since the beginning of time.  This time and place is going to be ruled by a man who thinks women need to be controlled.  I have everything to fear and everything to lose, moreso do my daughters and my granddaughters. 

Until he becomes a woman and lives in a woman's body, and heart and soul, he ought not to speak about what governments will do.

Does he love me enough to consider my life experience when he reads whatever he reads on the internet?  I don't know anymore?