When the First Petal Falls

I admit I had been out of touch.  I left our little town when I was 20 and never looked back.  I needed to see the world; there was so much more out there.  But now that I am older I have become more attached to my roots; this is an example of what I’m talking about.

I got the word last night that the first of our classmates had left us.  

Our class was small.  A few of the mates came and went and when we graduated 7th Grade, we had two classes.  But the original class was small.  

Kindergarten class

He was fourth from the left.  

I remember Gary just like that.  He was so cute and always smiled.  I don’t remember him ever being mean to me like some of the other boys were.  We were all together day in, day out.  We knew each other well.  We were in the same class year after year.  

Checking out the chicks

Playing Air Guitar

Singing Beatles' songs

He was there, yes, at the first boy-girl party of my life.  Jumping around, being crazy, like the guys usually were.  Let’s just say the guys kept things interesting in our little dull town!

Now I am saying all this because I will miss him.  I know, I know, I’ve not spoken to him in about 45 years!  But what his death represents to me is an awakening.  

When my mother died, my cousin said to me at the funeral that she so hated to see my Mother go because usually when one sibling dies, the other siblings follow.  I wasn’t so sure about this statement, but she is an educated person so I thought it noteworthy to remember what she said.  Sure enough, within the next couple of years, two of her siblings passed away… the oldest and the youngest!  

So this brings to light (again) that thought and to think of my own mortality and that of my classmates.  

Surely when a petal leaves a rose, it is still a rose, right?  Yes, it is the beginning of the dying process of the flower that has been cut.  It has a few more days of life (representing years, I truly hope).  

Nonetheless, my heart goes out to his family.  I know he will be truly missed, a man in his prime!  He was a wonderful man, a wonderful son, husband and father.  

This rose will miss you, Wilbur Gary Readdick.   And not to worry... all of US PETALS will be right there with you before you know it.

Who let the alligators out?

Today I came across a memory jogger at the resort here in Florida where we are staying for a couple of weeks on the beach.  "Hey, is this the pen for the alligators?" I joked.

I chuckled to myself as I recalled an event from my childhood.  As I am telling the story to my husband, I realize that it must be scrapbooked on the page with my Daddy's livelihood... his service station and souvenir shop.

The story goes something like this...

Many years ago it was perfectly legal to sell baby alligators.  (This is before they were almost extinct, I suppose.)  So that my Daddy did.  You can bet he got a great deal on them and was making a lot of money selling them.  I can't recall how much they sold for or any of those other details.  (Maybe $1 each?  Who knows?)  I do remember how he built a small pool on the north end of the store and built a caged cover so that the tourists could see through the top and pick out the one they wanted to take home with them.  He would keep the pool filled slightly with cool water.

This jogged my memory. (The "alligator pen")

These little babies would crawl all over each other and nip at each other.  Perfectly harmless!  However, as a young child (I must have been 4 or 5) I was totally afraid of that pen.  So I would run past it whenever I had to go north.

I would literally run past it, and hold my breath.  (As if that helped??)

But wait a minute.  My sister who was four years older than I was, absolutely loved  that pen.  She would pull out a baby, chase me around and scare me to death.  She also liked to entertain the tourists by holding a baby on its back and rubbing its belly until it went to sleep.  It was obvious that my sister had inherited my father's sales ability.  She seemed to be successful selling those baby alligators most of the time.

Well as the story goes, one day my Daddy went out to put water in the pool... and there were no baby alligators!  What in the world... who let them out?   "Cathy!!" my Daddy shouted at me.

But it was not me.  Remember I would not even get near them!  I had to remind the man that it was not me!  How could I let them out if I could not even STAND close to the pen??

It was later decided that after an exhibition of Alligator Sleep Induction the previous day, my sister probably had left the pen's cover a little less secure than it should have been, i.e., the concrete blocks had not been lifted on the corner to secure that "latch".

For many years after that we found alligators in random places.  I remember as a teenager that we went out to take a swim in the pool and there was a 3-foot alligator that had walked into the pool (it was not fenced in) and was unable to get out.

Uh.  Yeah.  Right.  No swim that day, or for a few days after that.

As I consider scrapbooking this story, I think of how I can paint a picture without a picture... only words.  Or maybe a re-creation of this word picture.  And how the alligators themselves kinda represent my scrapbooking supplies.  They started out small.  They got out (of hand).  They grew threefold.  Chuckle.  Ever hear of "being up to your knees in alligators"?  That's me and my scrapbooking supplies!

So with this story, I intend to bring back a picture of this moment in our everyday life back in that day, for there was never a dull moment with my Daddy!  He was a man who made life fun.

And then there was the day my Daddy trapped a monkey.  

Well, that's another story for another day.

I can't seem to escape those alligators!

A Few Clouds May Give you a Clearer Picture

This afternoon while photographing a sunset I realized that I was getting some really good shots because of a set of dark clouds that suddenly moved in.  What a great thing, I thought to myself.

I certainly could apply this photo tip to a lot of my adventures in photography.  In fact I have been told by professional photographers to wish for a cloud cover for an outdoor wedding day.  Who could wish for that if you are Mother-of-the-Bride, Mother-of-the-Groom or even a Guest?  And why?  Rain usually follows those clouds, right?

Just apply this tip to your life.  A few clouds roll in and after you wait and wonder... suddenly things are clearer.  Maybe its a season in your life; maybe a life situation that seems permanent.  Maybe it's an illness.  Maybe it is a family relationship.  Whatever is clouding up your life right now, just wait... things will become clearer when your mind takes a photograph and you sit back to analyze the situation through that clear picture.  

I am told there would be clouds (trouble) if I followed the path of righteousness.  John 16:33  "I have told you these things so that in Me you may have peace and confidence.  In the world you have tribulation and trials and distress and frustration; but be of good cheer!  For I have overcome the world."  In this clear picture of ultimate hope and restoration, I see the end result.  So no matter what my trouble is, Jesus has already overcome that problem for me.  

Today as I look again at this perfect picture of the sunset that I was able to capture with my camera, I also received the message of hope in my time of distress through the clouds that shaded just what light needed to be removed.  It's amazing how God works the universe, isn't it?  

The Master Artist gives us beauty and hope every single day.  All we have to do is look for it.

You really don’t know how much you miss someone… until you see them again.

I got to see my BFF (of all BFFs, mind you, that I have or ever will have) today.  I think it has been a couple of years since our paths crossed. 

I have known this girl for 53 years.  I don’t recall the first time I saw her or the first time we decided to be friends.  I do know that if it were not for her I would not have made it through high school.

Brilliant, tall, lovely and quiet was this friend.  She was my back and I was her's.  We were there for each other.  I can't even remember having a fight.  We talked for hours about nothing on the telephone.  We lamented and laughed… were heartbroken for each other… made plans and schemes together.   She was my BFF before I even knew what a BFF was.

In our 30's and 40's we raised our children and mostly had lives apart from each other.  We were distant for a while but always stayed in touch.  

And today it was as if we had never been apart.  As we age together (only a week apart are our birthdays) I realize what friendship means to me.  Maybe as I get older I think about these things and prioritize them.  

And I was reminded of it tonight when I saw her again.

I listened to her talk, I watched her and remembered all those conversations we had in the past.  She listened to me and I listened to her.  It’s not just drama; these are thoughts and feelings and are truly our hearts.  I was able to open up to her about things that had really been bothering me that I had not talked with anyone about (only to God).  I realize I have so missed talking to her and being with her one on one.  

For the very first time since I left, I sorta wished I lived closer to my old hometown so that I could spend more time with her again.  (That was a passing thought, however.)

We planned and schemed and were girls again tonight.  Aren’t friends the GREATEST???!!

When we put our glasses on I realized we looked like sisters!  Kinda. 

Here we are!

Overcome with Nostalgia

Life is a trip, ain't it?  The older I get, the more nostalgic I seem to become.  Somehow I spend time wishing I could "undo" some things in my life and "redo" them once again.

If I could have been a better wife before it was too late!  If only I had been a more patient and soft-spoken mother...  the kind I have come to admire.  If only...

Then things happen and I wake up and realize that the life I remember is no longer apt to be changed.  I must accept things as they are and as they were.  And that, my friend, is when the nostalgia enters and I long for those days once again... If I could only just to be there...

Example.  I'm doing the household dusting and as I polish the piano, I find the autograph of my young son that I had forgotten was there.  Suddenly I think of him, the man now, and as a young boy with a look that could melt my heart no matter what he did.  (No other man has had that power over me.)  I realize this... sit down on the floor and have a nice little cry as I think of how I must have scolded him so for this!  I realize what a gift it is to me right now, this day.

What then?  I pull out the family albums (yes, this is why I can't seem to get any housework done!) and re-live those memories all over in my mind and my heart.  I really did have a wonderful season of motherhood, didn't I?   Yes.  I have wonderful, wonderful children and I give all the credit to their father for being the strong one because certainly it wasn't ME who was strong!

I am grateful for the family albums I have.  Whatever it was that possessed me to make these things... I wish I had more of.  I was driven until I finished adding and journaling all the old photos.

Now I know why.  To get me through days like this.

If you look closely, you can see the precious autograph.  

Parting is such sweet sorrow.

Juliet:

'Tis almost morning, I would have thee gone—

And yet no farther than a wan-ton's bird,

That lets it hop a little from his hand,

Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves,

And with a silken thread plucks it back again,

So loving-jealous of his liberty.

Romeo:

I would I were thy bird.

Juliet:

Sweet, so would I,

Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing.

Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow,

That I shall say good night till it be morrow. 

Romeo And Juliet Act 2, scene 2, 176–185

Some people are lucky enough to get to see their family all the time.  Some people do not get to see their children frequently, as they have children that live all over the planet.  I think it may be hard when you see your family all the time;  I am the type of person that could really kill my family with much cherishing.  (Or should I call it micro-managing?)  

As Labor Day marks the end of the summer, this has really been a wonderfully, blessed one.  We've had lots of family gatherings this year!  As our family grows up and out, we don’t get to see each other very often and I am grateful we've had this time together.  As I traveled to these gatherings, I'd find myself abundantly remembering Psalm 23:5 "...My cup runneth over," and feeling so very blessed!  

This time together has been especially precious.  One of our own is on the move with his family to Germany to live there for a while.   Germany is a long way over the pond and even though it may seem just as far to Washington State (it is really only one-half the distance), Germany is nonetheless international.  

It was so hard to say goodbye to these Monkees knowing that the oldest one will be a TEENAGER when they return to the states… now that is just too sweet sorrow.

I am especially grateful to be able to keep in touch via modern technology that allows us to see each other on the telephone!  Hopefully they won't forget me during the time they are away.  I feel that we were just getting to know each other again this summer.

Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow,

That I shall say good night till it be morrow. 

Shooting these Monkees with their Grammie one last time for a while.

Toomas, we really miss you

To tell you the truth, I didn’t know that Estonia was a country.  That is until we briefly visited there on the first leg of our 36-day cruise.

We had heard so many good things about Estonia from people who had previously visited.  I was so looking forward to visiting their favorite Nordic country!  When we arrived it was raining and I had a feeling that the rain would prevent us from walking around at our own pace and leisurely enjoying the city of Tallinn.

Tallinn, in Panorama

I was right.

We hired a taxi that would take us on a city tour.  We tried to avoid the rain and all the tourist busses but that was not happening this day.  There was not much we could see in the short time we had.  We wove through the old city cobblestone streets to the panoramic view of the City and saw the little Old Dude that we’d heard about from the Cruise Director's talk about Tallinn.  This was my favorite story from Estonia that I bring home with me. 

It goes this way... Toomas was a peasant boy who could fire a mean crossbow…competitively.  Because he was a peasant, (a plebeian!), he was not able to receive a REAL prize because of his lowly status.  So his reward was the job of guarding the town of Tallinn FOR LIFE.  Wow.  What a prize.

Originally at Town Hall

Now Toomas (Thomas in English) was a kind man, giving candy to the children in the Town Square.  And they really missed him when he died.  

So the lore was borne, mainly because of the uncomfortableness of answering questions about death to small people who would only ask more questions.  

It was decided to make Toomas a permanent guardian of the city by placing him in weather vane form over the Town Square.  Once the weather vane was put on the spire of the Town Hall, parents would point to heaven and tell the children that yes, there he is and Old Thomas was watching how they behave and may just leave them candy under their pillow if they were good.

Alas; during World War II Tallinn was bombed by the Red Army.  In 1944, Old Thomas hit the dirt.  It was in 1952 that Old Thomas was resurrected.  The original Old Thomas can be found in the Town Hall.  (Where else would he be??)  

And Vana Toomas is now a weather vane, still guarding the city.   He is there, twirling and predicting the wind and weather while he guards the city.  This picture proves it.

Old Thomas Today