Tag Archives: Family

Happy Easter 2016!

pink and white dogwood2


I love Easter, ever since I was a little girl.  It’s about bunnies and bird nests and colorful buds and blooms, decorating Easter eggs, and chocolate candy.  A long time ago it was about women wearing fancy flowery hats, and my own frilly dress and bonnet with streamers down my back, along with shiny patent leather slippers.  It’s about Jesus and resurrection and church.  It’s about family and food and memories.  It’s lots of things to different people, but to me, ultimately it’s about spring and rebirth and new beginnings, all around us, in nature, and within us as well.  We can take the opportunity for a little inner spring cleaning, more kindness as we rise to our own higher selves, working together for the good of all creatures, not just human ones, and our planet.   Happy Easter!

my mom and me


Copyright (c) 2016 by Raindrop Ridge Press

Memories….The Simple Things

Simple little things are what I like to write about, because it’s a bunch of those simple little things strung together over years that make up my life, that are at the heart of who I am.

I shared this next paragraph today on Facebook….just one of those things that popped in my head as I ate breakfast, and the memory is bittersweet, as so many memories are, especially when the people involved are no longer here and no new memories are to be made with them.  Yet, I wouldn’t trade their sweetness for anything.

“Sweet memories……this morning I actually fixed myself a fried egg and a piece of toast with butter and jelly. It reminded me of growing up, my parents were those people who ate breakfast when they first got up, and I’m not. So they would have always already eaten before I sat down to eat and look at the paper. Every day there were always splotches of bright yellow egg and purple jelly on the corners of the newspaper pages.”

When I look back at that me, my life then seemed pretty simple and happy and uncomplicated.  So much has happened since…a lot of loss and turmoil and discomfort, and some wonderful births and relationships and joys as well.  Life has seemed complex at times, more than it should probably, so I have learned again to focus on the simple pleasures, the warm breakfast inside with my kitties by my side, with the cold winter snow outside my door, the candelight burning on the mantel sending out the faintest scent of cinnamon, and the memory of loving parents who could make a good fried egg with a cooked egg white and a runny yolk and homemade grape jelly, even if it ended up smudged all through the morning paper.  Maybe I didn’t appreciate those moments then as much as I could have, but I certainly do now.


Copyright (c) 2016 by Raindrop Ridge Press


Today has been a weird day.  I’ve cried off and on.  I’ve shopped and done chores.  I’ve done a little volunteer work and talked on the phone. But mostly I have remembered.  You see, one year ago today, my mom died, in the hospital, after six weeks of pneumonia and respiratory failure.  My daughters and I were with her at her bedside.  I’m grateful for  that.  My dad had died four years earlier.  Losing a mother is hard and losing your only remaining parent is hard, too.  No matter how old I am, I have felt a little like an orphan off and on this past year.  The people who knew me from my first minute of life on this planet are all gone now physically.  I experience their presence in different ways…..memories, stories, possessions, the words I use, feelings, smells, food, celebrations, the way my kids or granddaughter look, our attitudes about things, other people, gratitude, but especially through love.  There is a heart connection that has stayed with me and a cosmic one, too, eternal, that can never be broken.  But sometimes you just want that person standing in front of you like they used to and you know they can’t…..and for a few minutes the tears come from a deep place and it’s hard to breathe and you wonder how you will get through that moment.  And then life goes on again with its ups and downs and joys and frustrations and I know things will be okay.  Something will remind me again, and maybe I’ll get teary or smile or even laugh out loud.  That’s just how life is.  Here’s to my mom……I love you.


Copyright (c) 2015 by Raindrop Ridge Press

Being Mimi

Yesterday, I picked up my little granddaughter for the first time from preschool at the Methodist Church downtown.  I’ll be doing that now on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and I keep her for the afternoon.  I wasn’t sure how she would react to me being the one picking her up.  When I got there, I could see through the open half-door that she was playing, then she turned around and saw me and ran over to the door.  When I reached down and scooped her up, she laid her sweet little head on my shoulder.  She’s ready for a nap by the end of preschool time.  It was just such a warm and precious little moment to be that someone special in a new situation for both of us really — she had gone a couple of days a week in the summer but never all during the week on such a regular basis.  Being Mimi is such a joy and I’m so glad I have this little girl in my life, yes, even on the days, like yesterday, when she deliberately stepped in the spilled yogurt and smeared it all over her feet and the floor, or when she  turns her water cup upside down so it splashes everywhere or throws things in frustration, and all the other things that almost-2-year-olds do.  I wouldn’t trade one minute of it for anything.


copyright (c) 2015 by Raindrop Ridge Press

Happy Father’s Day!

Happy Father’s Day to my son-in-law — Kaitlyn is a lucky little girl! And to all the other dads out there, too – hope you enjoy time with your families today. Remembering my own dad….I still think about him every day; lately it has been about tomatoes and the rest of his wonderful garden and homemade ice cream and so many other things. I’m grateful for the memories and especially his example of being kind to people even when he disagreed with them. He always went that extra mile. He was a great Daddy and Papaw and just a good man. We were all blessed, too.


Saw this picture on Facebook from Wake Up World and it describes my dad perfectly….neighbors, family members, church members, and the local Lions Club got plenty of tomatoes, squash, and cucumbers.  He loved his garden, and after he retired, even with some of his health issues, he would be out there working, a labor of love.  It was so good for him.  The neighborhood misses him.  We all do.


Copyright (c) 2015 by Raindrop Ridge Press
(photo from Wake Up World on Facebook)

A Time to Laugh and a Time to Cry

First of all, let me say that my family is kind of weird, okay?  We’re mostly pretty quiet, but we can be really silly and dissolve into contagious bouts of giggles over not much at all.  Sometimes, maybe lots of times, we’re sarcastic and smart-assed and laugh at odd things.

During all this moving around and cleaning-out process we’ve been going through lately as my mom moved in with me, we came across a joke book.

One of my daughters had given it to my dad a few years back at Christmas.  He loved hearing us read the silly jokes and we’d all start laughing before we even finished them.  I really treasure those times when we all just laugh ourselves to tears.  We feel so close.

On Thursday morning, before my dad died three days later on Easter Sunday, my mom, daughters, son-in-law, and I gathered in his hospital room when they took him off the ventilator.  We stayed with him off and on until nature took its course, coming home only late at night to grab a bit of rest and change clothes, assured that if something changed we would be called immediately.  But that Thursday one or both of my daughters, I’m not sure who, had the great insight to bring that silly joke book to the hospital with them, and we read jokes out loud and laughed ridiculously as my dad lay in his bed (I know, some people would think that’s so disrespectful, but it didn’t seem that way to us).  It was good for us and I hope for him.  We held his hand; we rubbed his forehead or his arm; we laid our heads beside him on the bed.  I want to believe, though I don’t know for sure, that some part of him heard us, maybe not the words, but the laughter, the closeness of his family around him, knowing he was loved and safe and that it was okay.  Our laughter was mixed with tears, and eventually for awhile the tears took over before we could laugh easily and with abandon again.  It’s a precious memory.  It is said that laughter is the best medicine; I don’t know about that, but I do know that it helped me through the most difficult and saddest time of my life.


 Copyright (c) 2012 by Raindrop Ridge Press