Grandma & gingerbread

Well, this is it - the final countdown...if we're not ready yet, we're not going to be!
The kids needed us to watch the girls for a bit today while they did some errands, so we decided we'd better get this gingerbread house that grandpa bought for them put together, or it was going to be too late.
Arilie was amazing at it! She outlined the trees with green icing, stuck all the candy everywhere (well, what she didn't eat first!) and even helped put the icicles on the roof! I finally have a "crafty" child in my family! I think she did a great job! (I was behind Arilie while the photo was taken, when I saw the expression on her face later, I was rolling on the floor - priceless!)



***Sidenote: I'm so thankful that I insisted on getting this photo, because during the night - the dog ate the house!

Speaking of being naughty....

My sister read my "Ghost of Christmas Past" article, and emailed me that she had actually just found one of the maps that we had used to plot our "walk by snoop session" for Christmas morning! Amazing that such a thing still exists!
I submit Exhibit A:

Welcome to my world...

This is what Northern Utah looks like in winter:

Not a Spy Thriller Kind of a Girl...

Hubby got discount tickets to the movies tonight, and rounded up a bunch of the family to go (oldest son & wife, and daughter.) They all chose the latest James Bond film. I opted to go because:
a.) It had the earmarks of a "date" and I get precious few of those (not even going to go there tonight!)
b.) My other option was to stay home in a house full of teenage girls and toddlers.

As we went to go out the door, each member of the group (separately, not in unison) said "mom?...you're going too?" Apparently it is no secret to anyone that this is not my kind of movie. The plot was interesting enough, but I feel there should be a rule, that if you only keep your eyes open for half of the film, you should only have to pay half price - or maybe that $20.00 bag of popcorn should be on the house. My shoulders are so tense, that it will take me days to get all the knots out of them - my dreams will not be sweet tonight - in fact, I will be happy if nothing explodes, stabs, or jumps out to smack me in the face in them!
Whatever happened to movies like "That Touch of Mink" or "How to Marry a Millionaire"? Those are dillemas I can handle!
As we left the barely warm theater, we walked into a full blown blizzard!...No nice relaxing ride home either - white knuckles all the way!
I'm going to have a hot cocoa and go to bed! (With a blankie over my head!)

Grinch of Christmas Presents, Dreams, and the Evil Vortex of Doom

Grinch of Christmas Presents

Uh, sadly, that would be me...
Yesterday I was having a conversation with a friend during my lunch break, and the topic rolled around to Christmas gifts. I started ranting about how my husband isn't very good at surprising me, and I pretty much complained about every gift he's ever given me. After I left her and went back to work, I got thinking about that, and good grief! I'm sure I sounded so awful! (Even though, after 30 years together, you'd think he would know me better!)....see? there I go again!
It must be so daunting to try to find something to please me, I'm amazed that he keeps trying! - And he's never complained about anything I've given him, even though he must get really tired of getting the same old shirt, book and movie every year (well, they're not exactly the same ones - I vary the colors etc. - but you get my drift...) I do enjoy giving gifts, but I'm not very good at recieving them - I really must work on this!


Dreams

Last night I dreamt that I was in a car with my husband. He was in the driver's seat, completely zonked! - I mean mouth hanging open, chin-to-chest drooling, sound asleep! We were drifting in reverse, all over the road headed into traffic. I could see what was happening, but was too tired myself to do anything about it. I did finally try - pushed my foot on the break, but I was just too weak to even slow it down.
Terrifying dream, but I don't need a shrink to tell me what this means, because I can totally relate to it! We have both been working our little hiney's off trying to get our house together in time for the holidays - the day is looming closer, and we are getting further and further behind on our holiday preparations, because of all the added housework - and we are headed for certain disaster! But we are both too wiped out to care!
I have no solutions or clever comments on the matter - this dream was just so vivid, and had such an impact on me - just thought I'd mention it in passing....

Evil Vortex of Doom

During the same lunchtime conversation, (see above) The subject of time came up, and how, for some reason, there seems to be less and less of it. I find this completely alarming!
I was telling my friend how years ago, I worked 2 to 3 jobs at a time, came home and did my "mommy duties" ie: meals, laundry, etc. and yet still found time to play. In fact, there was a time when I would come home from work, feed the kids, get them to bed, then go downstairs and paint (one of my other jobs) until 5 am., then go deliver my work, come home, change, and go to work again. (of course I couldn't do that many days in a row - but deadlines had to be met)...and yet (and I completely forgot to mention to her that this was the whole point of telling her that story) I still seemed to have oodles of free time to do the things that I wanted to! (ie: paint for myself, garden, etc.) How can that be???? I have not been able to figure that out! Like right now, I'm only working 4 days per week - I have a 4 day weekend all the time, and yet where is my free time? I have none - zip - nada.
It's been a subject of so much frustration to me, that I even did this scrapbook page about it for my Book of Me:


...my theory is that there is a growing time-sucking vortex moving towards the earth at ever increasing speed. We are careening towards a time when there will be - well - no time left at all! Which is sad really, because I like to play! :(

So....

My family all live close by, so my husband started the tradition of having them all come home for Sunday dinner. Our house is pretty tiny, so we have to set up a folding table in the living room to accomodate all of us.
A couple of weeks ago, I asked my son #2 to please go help set the table. When I walked in to start setting the food out, this is what I found:




...It's so hard to get good help these days!!!

Ghost of Christmas Past

...Don't worry - no more posts about my house, at least not till it's done.
I'm as tired of the subject as you are! (maybe more!) It will actually feel like a vacation to go to work tomorrow!

Instead, I'm going to return to my regularly scheduled plan for this month (the holidy thememed posts)...and travel back a few decades and reminice about some of my favorite holiday memories as a child.

My dad was not a fan of Christmas. I never really knew why, probably just the "fuss" and the expense, but for whatever reason, he just didn't want to be bothered with it! He would never allow us to put up a tree until just a few days before Christmas. So, of course, by then, the only trees that were left at the tree lot were the scraggly lopsided, sad looking ones. We had a lot of "Charlie Brown" trees over the years!
One year we had some carollers come to the house (which was very unusual because we lived way out of the way!) They stood in front of our big picture window to serenade us, and my dad got so annoyed that he got up and closed the drapes!
(He did change though, after I was married and had a family, he & mom would come over and spend Christmas Eve with us, and he really did enjoy it! - and so did we!)

My mom was an excellent seamstress, and she would usually make most of our Christmas gifts herself. From about November on, as soon as she tucked us in at night, we would fall asleep listening to the whirring sound of the sewing machine as she sewed throughout the night, making us frilly dresses and warm flannel jammies, with matching outfits for our dolls.
Ha ha! I don't know why we even beleived in Santa Clause for so long, because we knew that most of our stuff was made by her! (I must have been really dumb!)...anyway, moving on -

My sister's and I always spent weeks before Christmas making "plans" about how we were going to spy on Santa, and who was going to sneak through the living room first to see what he brought before we were allowed to actually go in and open gifts. It was a thrill and an honor (as well as a danger) to be chosen to be the first to go!
We even made charts and diagrams of where all the squeaky spots were in the floor, so we could avoid them and not get caught! We always slept in the same room Christmas Eve (to aid the conspiracy). One time, my sister was determined she was going to see Santa, and she fell asleep with her nose pressed up against the crack under the door!

Christmas Eve was always "Family Night." We would have a little "program" that mom & dad pretty much let us kids plan and carry out. We would have plays and songs, stories, and games. We really took it seriously and tried to make it something special that everyone would enjoy. Of course, somewhere through the course of it, was always included the story of the Nativity. (And our favorite treat - popcorn and fudge!) I loved this tradition, and it is one that I have carried over into my own family.

Naughty, Naughty, Naughty!
We were also chronic "snoopers" at Christmas time! We always found where mom stashed our gifts no matter where she hid them. Whenever she went to town to buy groceries, we knew that we had at least an hour before she got home, so we would go get them, and play with them until she got back! One year she got us all Tammy dolls, and we had chosen (and played with) the ones we wanted - (different hair colors.) Mom must have been more than a little suspicious Christmas morning, when we opened them and said "hey, you got mine!" and swapped them all around!

*Most memorable Christmas gift? One year, Santa left us a note on the door too look outside, and there was a beautiful new swing set! (This was amazing to us, because we NEVER got big gifts like this!)

Holiday Traditions : Decorations

This month has been a bit tricky and, well - so far isn't going too well, but rather than dwell on that (since I've been complaining so much here lately) I thought I would just write a bit about some of my favorite holiday traditions and memories.
Since the decorations just went up, I think I'll start with that...
My Husband usually does all the Christmas decorating. It's his favorite part of the season, so we all just back off and let him go! Usually every nook and cranny in the house gets decked out, and we have been known to have a tree in every room! (hopefully not this year!)
Me? I enjoy creating the decorations. Some of my favorites are my painted Santas.
I love "old time" looking Santas, so when I saw this one offered as a class several years ago - I just had to have it!
I was working at Provo Craft at the time, and the class was being taught by Juliet Martin - a very talented designer who does a lot of Victorian style work. It was a two day class, and was a little pricey, so I had to plan and save, but I was sure it would be worth it.
The first day of the class was an 8 hr. one. There was a large group, and as is typical for this kind of class, they move very quickly, and it is a real challenge to keep up. The first whole day of the class was spent just on laying in the backgrounds, and painting the face! I couldn't believe how detailed it was, and Juliet must have been a bit nervous, because she kept forgetting steps and having to back track. It was very frustrating and even more stressful!
...But by the end of the day, Santa's face was in place, and I was rather proud of it, if I may say so. The only thing that bothered me was that my Santa's face looked so fresh and young. I wanted him to look more aged so he would seem more realistic, so I went up to the teacher and asked her what I should do to get that effect. She took him from me and dipped her brush into some dark flesh colored paint and did a few strokes right at the corners of his eyes to give him a look of "crow's feet."
When she did that - my eyes got really big, and my breath caught in my chest - her strokes were so big and stood out so much! They looked very unnatural to me, and I was just apalled! I thanked her very much with my teeth a little clenched, and I quickly went around the corner and licked it off!!! (sorry if this is a bit of a gross out - but there is a joke among avid tole painters that saliva is one of their greatest tools!...and one must act quickly before the paint dries too much, or it is a major ordeal to repair mistakes - and at the end of a grueling 8hr. day, I was not willing to do it all over again!)
I went home that night, and practiced the strokes that she showed me, and replaced them later myself (sorry Juliet! - when it came to my painting, I was a perfectionist to the extreme!)...not that hers was bad - she was the designer for goodness sake! - it's just that our painting styles are so different that made it stand out.
There was less to do the second day, so it was a bit more relaxed, and actually enjoyable! We moved at a slower pace and chit-chatted amongst ourselves. Later on, Juliet mentioned something about the story "The Polar Express." She was surprised when most of us there told her that we had never read it. So she told us the story.
What she lacked the first day in teaching skills, she totally made up for with her storytelling skills - we were all enthralled, and by the time she finished, there wasn't a dry eye in the room. It was magical! I'm a collector of Christmas stories, and this one quickly went to the top of the list of stories I had to have - normally, I look for an inexpensive version, but on this one, I sprung for the boxed set, complete with cassette tape and bell!
This class ended up to be a "two-for"...I not only got a favorite decoration out of it, but an awesome experience, and a favorite story too!

*This Santa is done on 3 different layers of wood - so sorry for the fuzzy scan, it couldn't be helped*

Thank You Thank You Thank You

Psalm 100:
Make a joyful noise unto the Lord,...Serve the Lord with gladness: come before his presence with singing...Enter into his gates with thanksgiving, and into his courts with praise: be thankful unto him, and bless his name. For the Lord is good: his mercy is everlasting: and his truth endureth to all generations.

Just wanted to pause and remind myself how much I have to be greatful for.

So, just a little note of thanks for family, home, health, enough to eat, and friends to share all these blessings with!

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

Reality isn't Real

Ok, I'll admit I'm not a very deep thinker, so this might seem a little dumb to some of you, but to me it was pretty mind boggling...
After my dad passed away several years ago, my sister decided to try to put together a life history for him (seeing as how he never kept a journal, and rarely told any of us anything about his life.) So she started writing to his brother's and sisters to get as much information as she could about his childhood, etc.
When she got all of thier letters back, she said that it only confused her more, because everyone told the stories thier own way and none of them matched - so she didn't know which one was the accurate version. She had to piece the story together based on what each of them had said, and just hope that it was close to actual fact.

Well, this kind of bowled me over because I started to see that reality is percieved differently based on who witnesses it, and whatever their attitude or experience is in life at the time, so there is no one concrete reality! Reality is something different to each and every person. So, there is no reality - only one's perception of reality!
I'm sorry, but this rocked my world a little bit! Just the thought that you and I could witness the exact same event and come away with a completley different story about what we saw or felt!
(I can hear you laughing at me - you already knew this didn't you?)
Anyway, so how is justice ever really carried out in a like say a court of law, because what I may think happened, and what you think happened is only our opinion of what really happened.
Or say a "reality" type tv show - how can that be reality because people may behave completely differently with a camera in thier faces, that they would at any other given time, plus, the camera crew sees it differently, so slants it according to what they perceive is happening - or the way they want you to see it happening...and then you will take it, and perceive it your own different way.....Whew! This is making my head spin!
So anyway, I decided I need to write my own life history, because if it's done based on what other people think of me - that is a thought just to scary for words!
I'm so thankful that when that final "judgement day" comes, God will be the only one judging this whole entire mess, beause He's the only one who really knows what's going on!

Things that go *Bump* in the Night...

Since we are approcahing the "spooky" Halloween holiday, what better topic?
I had the opportunity to visit Cape May with my sister a couple of years ago. We went in October, and the highligt of that trip for us was the "Ghost Tour"
(And what better time for it?)
It's a fun walking tour where they take you around to some of the "most haunted" old places in town, and tell you stories about who (or what) is huanting them.
I love a good ghost story, and our tour guide was such a hoot! We had so much fun.
...But is it all real?
I have a sister who claims that her house is haunted. Her two boys both say that they have seen thier resident ghost on several occasions. She is a lady, with long dark hair, who appears at the side of thier beds and watches them sleep. They claim they've never been afraid of her, rather that they felt she was protecting them. Other strange things have happened in the house. My sister says the "ghost" must have issues with laundry, because that seems to be where she hangs out much of the time. Sometimes they will come home from work, and find the batch of wash they put in that morning sitting on top of the washer dripping wet. Another time, they were tidying up before going to bed, and while her husband was sweeping the kitchen floor, one of the glass shades on the light fixture went sailing across the room for no aparent reason.
I can't say I've witnessed anything when I've visited there, except that, a few times I have closed the door to the guest room to go to sleep at night, and awakened to find thier pets next to me. How do they get in? The door is always still shut tight!
Is it true? I don't know. I prefer to think of "spirits" as benevalent creatures, that are here to protect, or to warn of danger. "Ghosts" whose soul (ha ha) purpose it is to just hang around and cause a ruckus doesn't make much sense to me - but then there are a lot of things in this world that I don't understand...
Ahem...it's past midnight, and I'm scaring myself - I'll be going to bed now!

Scullery Woes

...Did I ever mention I hate to cook?
It is by far my least favorite chore in the entire galaxial expanse of the universe.
I would rather change diapers, scrub toilets - what have you - than spend another minute in the kitchen.
I never aspired to do it, I've never been any good at it, and would certainly discontine it, if only my family could be convinced to stop eating!
I hate planning meals, I hate shopping for meals, I hate cleaning up after meals - and I especialy hate preparing meals.
I have recieved fewer rewards, and sustained more abuse (ie: negativity, complaints, & indifference) over this one chore than any one other thing I've been required to do in this life.
My favorite day in the whole year is Mother's Day, simply because my family KNOWS that it is my DAY OFF - and I refuse to even enter the kitchen!!! (although they usually leave the mess for me to clean up the next day!)
... I am most likely not destined for heaven, and if by some miracle I do end up there, will probably spend eternity as a mere "ministering angel" - a fate that I can totally live with...as long as they don't put me in the kitchen!!! (please let me be in the choir..please please please!)
If by chance I do find myself in the kitchen - I'll know I've gone to the other place...

There - I've said it.

Friday the 13th

I noticed on the calendar that we are due for one of these days again this month.
From now and forever more, I will always think of my youngest daughter on this day.
A few years ago, I had the privilege of teaching her class at church along with one of my good neighbors (there was a fairly large group, so they picked two of us - it was great, we took turns!)
Anyway, on the first day of this new experience, my neighbor decided it would be a good thing to just get to know the girls. She gave them a little questionnaire to fill out, and then they got to read it to all of us. One of the questions she asked was "what is your favorite holiday?"...well, when it came my daughter's turn - she said "Friday the 13th." I rolled my eyes at her and gave her one of those "mommy harrumphs" (you all know what I mean...like, why must my child always be the weird one sighs.) But Chantelle was intrigued, and wanted to know why such a day like this would be her favorite. She answered that it was because she was unlucky 364 days of the year, so on this day when your luck is supposedly reversed - it would be a good day!
Well, when we got home, I gave her a talking to - and gave her that "why can't you just be normal" speech.
...Later on toward the end of that year, when we were contemplating the end of our teaching together, Chantelle shared with me what a special and unique person she thought my daughter was, and used this experience to illustrate what a creative and free thinker she is!
Imagine my astonishment!
I have since viewed this child in a different light - and yes, she is a creative thinker - with really big ideas! Maybe some day, she'll be the next J.K. Rowling, and I can finally retire and go live with her!

*She's older now, but this photo was taken at the time I was teaching her class.

"Narcissist Day"

(Gosh I hope I spelled that right!)
My daughter has not lead a charmed life. No,(especially while she was in school,) things were usually pretty rough for her. She invented a "tool" to help her get through these days - she called it "Narcissist Day" she would proclaim one of these days anytime things got particularly hairy, and she needed to "boost' her self-esteem.
On Narcissist day, you are not allowed to say anything negative about yourself...you are only to rend the air with praises to your own beauty, wisdom, and glory.
She was really good at it too! She would absolutely have us all believing that she was an amazing and wonderful human being! (which in reality, she is!) But I think it did help her to feel better about life, and about herself (and to laugh about how silly life can be!)
I've been pretty down on myself all this weekend. In fact, during a chat that I had with a friend last night, I beat myself up pretty good. There are a lot of things I'm not feeling too great about at this point in time (most obviously, the way I look), and I decided as I lay in bed waiting for sleep to come, that maybe it was time to proclaim a Narcissist day for myself. However, when I tried the next morning, I found that the words just caught in my throat and wouldn't even come out! I can't even pretend to be "Fabulous!"
Goddesses do not waddle to and fro when they walk, or have to buy their clothing at "Buckets & Barrels," or wear 3 inch thick glasses just to see what time it is!
They do not have to beg Prince Charming for a minute of his time, or get asked to jump in the pond because their croaking is disturbing the choir.
So, sadly, Narcissist day did not happen today, nor is it likely to anytime soon!

Pumpkin Prayer

One of my nieces sent me this as an e-mail forward. I thought it was so cute, I wanted to share it here. (sorry, I don't know where it origionated, so I can't give credit.)
Quote:
"Being a Christian is like being a pumpkin. God lifts you up, takes you
in, and washes all the dirt off of you. He opens you up, touches you
deep inside and scoops out all the yucky stuff-- including the seeds of
doubt, hate, greed, etc. Then He carves you a new smiling face and
puts His light inside you to shine for all the world to see."

...sure hope He can do something with this old gourd!!!
Have a Happy day!

This day...

Providence has seen fit to bestow upon me a surprise day off today!!
What to do....what to do....the mind reels with possibilities!
...There's that painting I've been wanting to start - and the ingredients for a scrapbook layout that have been calling my name for days!
There's that library book that I need to get started on for my book club,
and - oh! a nice looonngg bubble bath would be heavenly!!!

But then again, there's the laundry I didn't get to last weekend because the kids were here the whole time, and there are at least 3 loads worth of dishes in the sink.
The bathroom floor needs a going over, and that pile of mail on the coffee table that needs sorting....
*Sigh* Gilead where is thy balm???

Still Crazy After All These Years!

When my son was little, he was always building "friends" for himself, out of clothes, balloons, blocks, whatever was handy. (photo on the left)
He's married now, and "grown up"(?) but one night last weekend, after he had been here to change for work, his dad went down to his room, and this is what he found.
(photo on the right)




He's still doing it!

Whoppers & Time Travel

Isn't it interesting what things trigger certain memories in us?
For instance, there is a lady where I work who always has a well stocked candy jar at her desk, so that when anyone is lagging on the job, and needs that extra little burst of energy that only a little sugar rush can give, it's always there to help us finish out the day. (I found out another reason why she does this when I had the opportunity to substitute at her desk a little bit - it gets really lonely in there, and that candy lures people in so there's always someone to talk to!)

Anyway, I digress - the other day, when I "visited" the candy jar, there were some Whoppers in it (not the usual fare) so, not caring what the fix was - just needing one, I bit into them, and was immediately transported back to junior high, when I used to "forge" notes from my parents so I could leave campus at lunch time and spend all my lunch money at the little candy store on the corner.
(So sorry to have to shock and disillusion you this way, don't worry - I was caught, punished, and turned away from my life of crime!)

- But that's not the point - the point is how this little piece of candy had the power to bring back a certain moment in time with such complete clarity! I didn't realize how long it had been since I had experienced this certain flavor!

It reminded me of one of those "portkeys" from Harry Potter - where all you have to do is touch it, and you go soaring off to another time and place...

Even now the mere smell of "dotted swiss" fabric always reminds me of Easter, and my mom spending the whole night sewing fluffy little dresses to surprise me and my sisters.

There are certain songs that come on the radio, that take me back to those good old days of high school, and "dragging main" with that first boyfriend....There are also those mournful ballads that remind me of my first big heart break!

"Time travel" is not only possible, but it happens randomly every day - you just have to stumble across the right "portal."

Sheetcakes and Eyeballs

Something that was said in church today made me think some former neighbors, then later when I got home, my daughter was researching job openings online, and I was reminded of these neighbors again, because of a job suggestion the husband had given me once...
OK, before I lose everyone completely - a little background material...Harriet and Paul were about as unlikely a couple as there ever was. She was an educated, cultured Jewish girl from New Jersey, and he was an LDS National Park Ranger from Idaho. They met when they were both working at Independence Square in Philadelphia. I could go on, but probably shouldn't since they aren't around anymore to re-butt.
Anyway, they were delightful neighbors! Paul was heavily into Boy Scouts, and somehow he found out that I had a "crafty" side, and because he had been almost completely blinded (by an accident involving fireworks), he would often call on me to help whenever he needed some creative project done.
My first experience with this was when he called me on the phone and said - I need you to make me a sheet cake. I hemmed and hawed a bit, (because I am not known for my baking!) but finally agreed. He came to the door carrying a bundle of white fabric. He told me that he needed me to draw a huge cake on it ("sheet" cake...) because someone in the Scout leadership was being honored and they were going to give it to him. So I took a marker and drew him a wedding-type layer cake the full length of that sheet - and I literally giggled the whole time I was doing it!
I did several other projects for him and his family - everything from painting the scout emblem on a trailer that they hauled their supplies in, to painting a delicate floral design on a beautiful head-board that he had made for his daughter, I did merit badge signs for him to take to the National BS Jamboree in Washington DC. It was almost always something surprising and unusual that made me smile.
Like the time he asked me to paint bricks on the chimney of a doll house he had built for his daughter for Christmas. I agreed without much thought, thinking it would be a small project that could be done in a few hours, but when he brought this doll house to my house (in a truck!) it was about 4 feet wide, and 5 feet tall! It took up nearly half of my kitchen. (luckily we had no furniture in there at the time, because we had just replaced the flooring)
Where do the eyeballs come in you ask? (silly reader, because now I'm going to tell you!) One day I ran into him just after he had been to pick up a new prosthetic eye (he lost one in the accident)...and he said "I just found the perfect job for you!
He said he had gone into the (lab? where does one go to pick up artificial eyes?)...anyway, he said there were a bunch of people sitting there painting these eyes, and I thought of you!
(Question - where does one go for training to paint prosthetic eyes? I would totally do it if I had a clue!)
The giving wasn't totally one-sided. I was given many silly Boy Scout awards for my service. (I cherish my "button" gear award!) These dear neighbors always came to visit with a fresh baked loaf of bread every Christmas, and again on the night before I checked in to the hospital for my heart surgery they were there, wishing me the best, with that bread still warm from the oven.
They since have re-located to Philadelphia. I miss doing those fun projects for them -they always made me smile! And I sure do miss these wonderful neighbors!

Opportunity missed

Last night, I ran across an article I had clipped from an old CK (yes, I'm still cleaning that room. Oh Honey, this will go on for days!) The title of the article was "Generations of Love" and talks about chronicaling children with their grandparents. As I picked it up, a feeling of...guilt?...remorse?...I'm not sure, just that feeling you get when you know you missed out on an opprtunity that will never come again.
When my mom was in the hospital, one day I was there visiting when my son and his family came in to visit also. One of the nurses came in during our visit, and after inquiring of my mom who we were, she said "Oh - 4 generations!" The thought occurred to me then that I should try to get a picture of this before it was too late (you see, mom was dying of bone cancer) but I struggled with whether that was the right thing to do or not. Mom was not a vain person, but she always took pride in how she looked, and she was not at her best here in the hospital, with little chance of things improving. There was that whole issue of "is this how she would like to be remembered?" There are cultures who believe that if you take a person's photo - you steal their soul, but can there also be times when by taking their photo, you steal their dignity?
So I continued to struggle, and she continued to decline, antd the photo never got taken.
It would have been nice to show that photo to my grandaughter, and tell her how much her great grandma loved her, and when she had struggles with her memory, and didn't recognize some people who came to visit, she still always remembered her.
Sorry, not the happiest of posts - but this is where my mind has wandered to today.