quiet time

4 / 18 / 14

Every Good Friday when we were growing up, my mom had a rule. Between the hours of 12:00-3:00, we were required to have “quiet time”, alone in our rooms. A time of quiet reflection during those hours when Jesus would die on the cross. As a mom of two adult children, I now have a new perspective.

First of all, you have to know my mom. She is funny. She has been known, at times, to maybe “stretch the truth” a little (?)… but it’s always funnier when she tells the story. She pulls her grandkids to the side and tells them outright, “Grandma lies.” They laugh. One of my brothers will roll his eyes (usually the dad of the one listening to Grandma’s story), and we move on. OK – So back to the subject… our “time of reflection on Good Fridays“.

Some of you may remember from earlier posts that I am the oldest of seven kids. When I was 10 years old, my mom was 29 and had five kids; me being the oldest. (Good news! Found a family pic from our church directory to capture just that moment in time… That’s me to the right of my mom – Ha!) So when Good Friday rolled around, off to our rooms we went. At 12:00. Until 3:00. To be really honest with you, I can’t really remember much of what we did during that time. My mom told us that it would rain at some time during that three hour stretch, so my sister and I (shared a room) would spend some of the time lifting the heavy shade on our window to peer out and search for those ominous, rain producing, clouds… One thing I DO remember (unfortunately), because she did it all the time. My sister always had more money than me; and she liked to count it. Out loud. Coin, by coin, by coin… She had me as an unwilling, yet captive, audience for three hours. Lucky her. Looking back, I have to laugh. I realized as an adult, that as kids, we actually had “quiet time” a lot!! Not just on “Good Friday”. You see, my mom was also very smart. And resourceful. She was merely attempting to maintain her sanity. That was why she would slip off to the bathroom with her coffee and a weeks worth of magazines. We would hear the “click” as the door locked behind her. The rule…? Don’t knock unless someone is bleeding. Bad.

I was (doubly) blessed with twins when I was almost 30, and they were, and still are, such a joy in my life!! In raising our kids, my husband and I made a conscious decision to pick and choose the pieces of our individual childhoods that we wanted to take forward with our own children. Kind of like combining really dark chocolate with… well; just about anything! It’s all about the mixture. “This” worked; “that” – Ummm… not so much. So guess what made the cut from my childhood? Yep. “Good Friday quiet time”. 12:00-3:00. They could read, work on puzzles, quietly listen to music (pre-appoved; by me!). There was no TV, radio, computer, phone or friends during that time. And they were fine with it really. The older they got, the more they understood why there were being asked to do it. It was a way for them to, hopefully, prepare their hearts for Easter Sunday.

So, Mom – if you’re reading this – you will be glad to know that I still, to this day, honor that quiet time every Good Friday. I usually plan a quiet “project”; something that I can do by myself, at home, without really thinking. Today is no exception. It is a beautiful day and the birds are chirping like crazy. Not a rain cloud in sight… I have selected a “project” (more on that later) and I am ready to put on some beautiful music and spend the time reflecting. Quietly. 12:00 until 3:00…

What happens here; stays here.

3 / 19 / 14

(This was previously published on my former blog July 28, 2011. Do the math. Yes – we ARE older now…)

OK – so there’s that whole Vegas thing… You know – the “what happens here stays here” thingie.

So my husband and I recently turned 50 and our kids were turning 21 (Yep – they be twins). Huge family milestones; right? Now we all know that there is no better city on the planet for turning 21… at least that’s the general consensus of those who are actually turning 21. If you fall into that 50-something range… well, let’s just say that napping is a requirement. Seriously. And I …can’t…nap. “Houston – we have a problem”.

What a city, though. Wow. Where else can you visit a New York deli, stroll the cobblestone streets of Paris and dine by candlelight next to the gondolas in Italy – all in the course of a day. And then there’s the cocktail. There are literally people with cocktails in their hand 24 hours a day. We were up until 3:00 or 4:00 AM every morning; and everywhere you looked during those wee hours… there were cocktails. After a “full night’s sleep” of approximately 3-4 hours (See “nap requirement” above), we would manuever our way down the hallway towards the elevator around 7:00 AM for coffee; only to see people stumbling out of the elevator – cocktail in hand. Guess they decided it was finally time for a little “shut-eye“. We gambled. Well, actually, THEY gambled (the boys). I’m way too cheap for that. We (the girls) had a cocktail. We walked the streets and “people watched” (Oh my, my, my…some FANTABULOUS people watching!). They gambled. We shopped. We hit the pool. We all had another cocktail. We watched as the Bellagio fountains performed their mesmerizing dance to the crooning sound of Mr. Las Vegas himself – my man – Frank Sinatra. Pure magic, I tell you. We all had a cocktail. They gambled. We saw two “shows” – the “Blue Man Group” (fantastic!) and David Spade. They gambled. We all had a cocktail. Three full days. In Vegas time, that equals about four years.

Perhaps it was the constant bright, flashing lights, the relentless “ding, ding, ding, DING, WHISTLE, DING…” of the almost 200,000 slot machines (Thank you, “Ask Jeeves”), or the delicious “Pineapple Chipotle Margarita” (complete with Chipotle hot sauce!) that I was sipping from the “Rhumba Bar”…… but I started having “flashbacks”. My BABIES were turning into ADULTS!!! What?? How did that happen? It suddenly felt like I had blinked…and time had somehow passed me by. Kind of like a “Sleeping Beauty” kind of thing… minus the “beauty” part and that feeling of a really good night’s sleep. “Someone bring me another cocktail. NOW!” And then something suddenly occurred to me. Nothing had passed me by. I have enjoyed every part of the past 21 years. (fine print…OK – Let’s be honest. Some more than others.) As a family, we have filled our hearts, until they are overflowing, with memories on top of memories – and they are a part of us. They are what binds the four of us together – and no-one, and nothing, can every take that away. Those memories belong to us… and only us. It was then that I realized that we were in the perfect place to celebrate their 21st birthday. As a family, we have LIVED the “Las Vegas mantra” our entire life… “What happens here (in our hearts); stays here.”

And so at 12:00 midnight, Vegas time, 2:00 AM Kansas City time (by chance – the exact time they were born), we toasted their transition into adulthood… “21”; with all the joy and pride in the world. We laughed. We remembered. We reminisced.

Cheers to you, Vegas. “What happens here, stays here.”

time marches on…

7 / 15 / 13

Lauren & Kyle highchairs

OK – So I’m still supposed to be on my “summer sabbatical” from all social media. But I’m kinda sad today… and I just needed to tell someone. So I’ll make it quick. Then it doesn’t really count…?

After a restless night’s sleep, I awakened with this gnawing, empty feeling way down in my gut that only a mom would know. It was that helpless feeling of time marching on; whether you agreed to be part of the band… or not. You see, my babies turned 23 today. Without me. Yep – The very first time that they have been away from us on their birthday. Now before you start telling me all of that logical, “after all, they are ADULTS now“, baloney, let me just say right up front that I get all that. I, honestly, could not be more proud of the adult children that we have raised. We feel that we have been mightily blessed and thank God for them each and every day. xo

But moms ~~want~~ need to feel needed sometimes… Ok, maybe all the time? I dunno. It varies. My sister and I were talking on the phone last night about this very thing. We complain about having to drive them all around town when they are little… here, there and everywhere. Some days are endless. Then they go off and get their driver’s license. That’s great news, right? Sure it is. Until that moment when you wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat realizing that they don’t need you to drive them anywhere… anymore. Time marches on. Your job there is done.

You see, the heart is not the brain. These two body parts operate quite independently of one another. There is logic, and then there is love. In my logical brain, I am so happy for them today. They are with each other, and they are with good friends. Everything is exactly the way it should be; and this is good. Time marches on.

But deep in my soul, they will always be my babies… and today, selfishly, my heart aches like crazy.

live happy ~ Cathy

trash day

10 / 9 / 12

Today is Tuesday, and Tuesday is “trash day” at our house. In our home, this is a day of scheduled acts of kindness… vs. “random”. I have a story to share, but I have to admit that I was torn about whether to “put it out there”… or not. I am a HUGE believer in “Acts of Kindness” that come from the heart in a spirit of love and generosity. Not attention or recognition. When I came across this quote (below), I knew that sharing my story was the way to go. I realized that in the sharing of these “good deeds” – we are really sharing the “spirit” of these deeds, therefore making them contagious.

“A single act of kindness throws out roots in all directions, and the roots spring up and make new trees. The greatest work that kindness does to others is that it makes them kind themselves.”

~Amelia Earhart

It all started about 20 years ago. My twins were very young and absolutely fascinated with watching the trashmen in their big trucks. They would wait for trash day every single week, and then they would pull up their “Little Tikes” chairs to their second story bedroom window and wait… and wait… and wait… for the trashmen to arrive. I cannot honestly tell you how the conversation originally began, but suffice it to say that we decided that the trashmen were probably quite thirsty in the middle of their long, hard day. So we started taking cold sodas out to them when they would arrive. Every week. The problem would arise, however, if we were not there at the moment that they arrived. So we started a new plan. We bought a little cooler that was big enough to hold a few sodas and an ice pack. If we were not going to be there, they knew that the cooler was for them. This soon stretched into winter, and we knew how cold the trashmen must be on their long winter days. So we started making hot chocolate and got a big thermos that we could fill in the morning. The kids would make little “goodie bags” for them at Christmas time with snacks, McDonald’s gift certificates and homemade cookies. This whole idea blossomed into taking sodas on a hot summer day to anyone who looked thirsty… even if it was roofers working on a house three doors down! They had internalized this spirit of kindness and were thinking kind thoughts – independent of their mom – with their own little hearts. Wow.

Fast forward twenty years. Our kids are away at college, and their hearts will always be kind. Tuesday is still trash day… a scheduled act of kindness day that has been so richly rewarded through the years in hugs and smiles and gratitude. WE are blessed. Pass it on…

live happy… laugh, love, dream, create

double the trouble; twice the love

6 / 7 / 12

twins — picture reposted from “lavender-colored glasses”

I see children as kites. You spend a lifetime trying to get them off the ground. You run with them until you’re both breathless…they crash… you add a longer tail… they hit the rooftop… you pluck them out of the spout… you patch and comfort, adjust and teach. You watch them lifted by the wind and assure them that someday they’ll fly.
Finally, they are airborne, but they need more string and you keep letting it out and with each twist of the ball of twine, there is a sadness that goes with the joy because the kite becomes more distant and somehow you know that it won’t be long before that beautiful creature will snap the lifeline that bound you together and soar as it was meant to soar… free and alone.
Only then do you know that you did your job.

Erma Bombeck (February 21, 1927 – April 22, 1996)

It has been almost 22 years since God gave me the gift of a lifetime; my two precious babies. Thank you, Erma, for your beautiful words of wisdom…

live happy~ laugh, love, dream, create