Giving Thanks

It's been a very exciting year!  From a wedding to a grandson to special people in the lives of my younger son and daughter, we have much for which to be thankful.  We represent 4 cultural heritages and the religious diversity that goes along with them, including a variety of thoughts and beliefs that don't necessarily fit into a specific box.  If I weren't already open to and interested in  different religious beliefs , I certainly would have to learn!  I hear questions all the time about how on earth this little southern family has become an international one!  We think of ourselves as lucky, and, yes, thankful.  Our lives are enriched by these differences.  But even with those differences, there are so many similarities:  love of family is the biggest....respect, acceptance, importance of education -whether it is traditional or self taught---desire to be humble and selfless, but at the same time to be the best possible.  I know I could come up with more!

I started thinking about how to express thanks on this upcoming Thanksgiving Day, keeping all beliefs in mind.  So, I have been looking at different ways to do that.  I found a Hindu Thanksgiving prayer that I really like:

Let us together (-saha) be protected (-na vavatu) and let us together be nourished (-bhunaktu) by God’s blessings. Let us together join our mental forces in strength (-veeryam) for the benefit of humanity (-karvaa vahai). Let our efforts at learning be luminous (-tejasvi) and filled with joy, and endowed with the force of purpose (-vadhita mastu). Let us never (-maa) be poisoned (-vishaa) with the seeds of hatred for anyone. Let there be peace and serenity (-shaantih) in all the three universes.

Then I found this which I paraphrased:

We are thankful for food and remember the hungry.

We are thankful for health and remember the sick.

We are thankful for friends and remember the friendless.

We are thankful for freedom and remember the enslaved.

We are thankful for family and remember those alone.

May these remembrances stir us to service,

That the gifts we have be used for others. 

 I am thankful to all I love and for whom they love, and for who they are and for whom they strive to be. 

OK, I Get It

                                                              

My daughter and I went to a wedding last night.  As we usually do, we talked about hair for the big day, the reception, the decorations.

 I guess I have been living in a fantasy world for the last 24 years.  I started planning her wedding almost the  day I found out she was a "she".  (Not really, but you know what i mean.)  She wore pink, purple and white almost exclusively when she was a baby and toddler--after 2 boys I wanted a change from blue, green and yellow.  

Well, last night it finally sunk in, she is not a girly girl.  She doesn't want pearls.  She wants mason jars. 

My dream wedding for her is not her dream.  

Luckily we have plenty of time---she isn't dating right now. But I see a lot of compromising in my future.  I just hope she does, too.

Baby Clothes

I found my sons' baby clothes.  

Diaper shirts, bubble suits, one piece out fits

Soooooo cute!

After 30 years, some of them were yellowed and had little spots, but most still look pretty good!  I'm not going to take all of them to the happy couple, just the ones for the first few months--otherwise, it might be too much for the Father-to-Be to handle!  

Snips and Snails

It's a Boy!!!

We just found out that our first grandchild is a boy!  Somehow I had in my mind it would be a girl, so I have to readjust my future plans----no pink dresses or All American Dolls.  We LOVE boys and all that comes with them, so we are so looking forward to that future. I can't wait to see that sweet face, kiss him all ov  er, and watch my baby be a wonderful father.  

 I have been looking for the sweet little clothes I had when my son was a baby, knowing that he may not want his son to wear them, but I am hoping for at least a few months he will allow the baby to be a baby, not a little man.  What people forget is that in 1920, when my dad was a baby, he wore dresses.  That didn't seem to keep him from growing to be the wonderful man he was.  And my loving husband's dad was actually given a name that now is given to girls---he changed it--but that was how things were then.  So, come on!  Let's let a baby boy be a baby. Bow ties on a 3 month old? Please, no.

So, we're having a baby

My No. 1 son and his wife are expecting!  Hurray!  We find out soon if we will have a girl or boy grandchild and I am counting the days!

But, you know, I'm the mother of the son.  As sweet and warm and gracious as my daughter-in-law is, I know she will want her mother with her after she delivers.  I did when I had mine. I just felt more comfortable with my mother.  BUT, the baby will be my grandchild, too, so even though there may be some things that my daughter-in-law may want her mom to help with, this is not a wedding where I "have my place".  My place is to be a grandmother.  No more, no less of one than her mom.  I want to help them get ready for the arrival, just as I am sure her mom does, and is.  I don't plan to do anything without talking to the parents-to-be.

Changing Times

About a month ago my mom died.  She had been in an assisted living facility for about 7 years and had dementia.  But she remained sweet and loving and gentle---the consummate Southern lady. The night she died we were given permission to share the news that our oldest son and his wife were having a baby. Joy and sadness.  Saying goodbye and hello.  So symbolic of the ying yang of life.

I know I was a good daughter.  But I still feel guilty about what I might not have done as well as I should have:  I didn't visit enough;  I didn't take her out on little trips enough;  I didn't stay long enough when I did visit. Did I say anything in front of her while she was in a coma that would have upset her?

 I wasn't there when she died---I went home to sleep a little bit, encouraged by the nurse on duty to go, thinking I would get back to Hospice in just a few hours.  But an hour and a half after leaving her, she died.  My sister, who rushed here from out of town, stayed in her room to sleep, so she was there.  I wasn't.

So, part of my grieving is going through all of the things I think I did or didn't do.   The other part is realizing I don't have her, or my dad, anymore.