2. Blissful boredom. The days when drama dictated my emotions, my schedule, and my relationships were sadly not that long ago. And I couldn't be happier to be as far away from that mode as possible.
3. Health. I'm more than grateful for the good health I have, the better health I can work toward, and the modern-day options that we have to make our lives richer in the best ways.
4. Nan. My grandmother has been cracking me up for 34 years straight, and I'm grateful she's still at it. Even if I do disappoint her on a regular basis by being happily single and childless. ;-)
5. Tradition. In a world of unpredictability, it's increasingly nice to have things I can count on happening.
I've been wanting and needing to lose weight, and last week (conveniently during my week off!), kicked off some healthier eating & exercise-inclusive habits.
My goal has been to lose 2 lbs per week, as doctors recommend. (Having grown up watching my Nan constantly on a cabbage soup diet or some worse fad of the week, I am determined to stick to dietary regulations.)
So, from last Monday night to last night, I lost not 2, but 4 pounds!
I am not sure how well I'll keep it up with Thanksgiving and such, but it's a start, and a fun new challenge. :-)
p.s. As much as I wish I could attribute this to some new, easy, healthy pill that's on the market, my "trick" has been -- shocker -- eating better & exercising. (Sorry, fellow Glamour impulse buy fans.)
Five things I'm thankful for at this moment are....
1. New beginnings. Especially for ADD, shiny-objects-distract-me-all-day-long people like me, having new and fun adventures to look forward to is just pure bliss.
2. My sweet sister. Kim came to see me this past weekend, and as always, I have to marvel at the built-in best friend God gave me in her. For one thing, she puts up with me. And then, there's all the other sweet, saintly stuff that just comes so naturally to her. :-)
3. My brother-in-law. Steve made Kim's trip to BR happen, and happen fast. And he did this not just because I wanted time with her, but because she needed it. And he recognized that, and did something about it. How rare and precious. I love that -- and him -- so very much.
4. Home. I was able to see my parents and Nan very quickly this weekend, and truly, there is no place like home. ::happy sigh::
5. Pear cake. My mother made one for my birthday! It's like apple cake, but with pears. If you have not had it, you're totally missing out. Especially when the pears and pecans come from the yard you grew up playing in. :-)
In late August, my grandmother's nearly 89-year-old husband took his last breath.
It was a shame for many reasons, and more than just the obvious. The man was brilliant -- I'm talking sharp.as.a.tack -- but his body just wouldn't support that strong, thriving mind anymore. Even in his last days, he was giving my mom details about documents that I couldn't even keep up with at age 19, much less now.
Despite the terrible illness that was affecting his quality of life, it was really difficult to say goodbye, but it's been equally tough to know that Nan is now going it alone. Her best friend and last living sister, our great-aunt Mildred, passed away a few years ago. I can't imagine what it's like to lose your peers gradually. Nan is doing well, and is showing some major strength and stamina that I hope to have by my next birthday, not to mention at 84.
During the days after Pop Ball's death, the family did a lot of things. We laughed, we cried, we ate, we talked, we slept, we painted toenails (well, Nan and I did, at least), and we reminisced.
My mom, however, was asked to do something that she begged me to do for her: speak at the funeral about what Pop Ball meant to our family since he married Nan when we grandchildren were in junior high and high school. Knowing my mother's fear of public speaking despite her great talent for communicating, I worked with her on what to say and took the job on as, well, a job. Because of that, it was a lot more bearable to deliver than it would've been otherwise.
This is my part from the funeral, spoken after Cliff's granddaughter Helen beautifully read his obituary, and before my cousin Russ preached a poignant, moving funeral service detailing Cliff's life and death, and their eternal implications:
Cliff Ball was a brave soul -- and not just because he literally fought battles and flew fighter jets and managed crews of airmen throughout his career.
Despite all those accomplishments, I think we all realized how truly brave Cliff Ball was when he walked into my Nanny's family. We don't mean to be dysfunctional (who does?). We really think we're pretty great (who doesn't?). But for a career Air Force Colonel to merge his life with Woolmarket's orginal social networker and her happily protective family?
Definitely deserving of a purple heart.
In time, I think Cliff came to accept our family's penchant for over-hugging, long phone conversations, and even the ridiculous, neverending banter every Christmas Eve.
And we came to accept...well...the retired Air Force Colonel. Who still talked like a Colonel, operated like a Colonel, and all the while loved our grandmother like she hung the moon.
And in time, Colonel Cliff Ball became Pop Ball to my cousins' and my sister's children.
And, not too much longer after that -- especially having watched Cliff nurse Nan through a health scare -- I realized that even though my family is excellent at keeping memories alive, and I feel like I know the biological grandfather who died when I was a few months old, Cliff had been the only living grandfather I'd ever had.
Pop Ball spent a lifetime doing what I have benefitted from for nearly 20 years. He gave a little something extra in so many areas of his life.
I'm pretty sure he would've said he had some regrets. (I am not sure there's anyone who doesn't.) But the Pop Ball I knew and loved gave through volunteerism, and finances, and wise counsel. The man was driving cross-country road trips in his 80s, and tackling technology that some 30-year-olds still haven't mastered. He dedicated himself to things and people he believed in, and in true Air Force Colonel style, put some umpfh into it, always giving a little something extra.
After hurricane Katrina devastated their home in 2005, I couldn't help but chuckle through my tears at the familiarities in the front yard that showed we were at the right driveway: Nan's Slim Fast cans, and Pop Ball's Gideon Bible materials.
My mother worded it well the other day, and I think this sums up how our whole family feels: She said that after she lost her daddy, she never expected to love anyone like that again. When Nan & Cliff married, she accepted and loved him as Nan's husband, but never expected that her love for him would grow to the extent it has. I guess the combination of a gracious spirit, sweet smile, intelligent mind, accepting love, and incredibly quick wit are just hard to not adore.
When Pop Ball died, our family lost a dear friend.
The extra that he gave to the world, he also gave to our family. Because of Cliff Ball's bravery, the Moore family is far more blessed than we ever were before.
At the gravesite, my sister, her husband, and I sang "He Leadeth Me" a capella after a very dignified and moving full military service. It was definitely not easy, and undoubtedly did not sound as professional as the recording below, but we did get the idea years ago of singing this beautiful hymn a capella from this extraordinarily talented Southern gospel trio, The Martins:
He Leadeth Me
He leadeth me, O blessed thought!
O words with heav’nly comfort fraught!
Whate’er I do, where’er I be
Still ’tis God’s hand that leadeth me.
Refrain:
He leadeth me, He leadeth me,
By His own hand He leadeth me;
His faithful foll’wer I would be,
For by His hand He leadeth me.
Sometimes ’mid scenes of deepest gloom,
Sometimes where Eden’s bowers bloom,
By waters still, o’er troubled sea,
Still ’tis His hand that leadeth me.*
Lord, I would clasp Thy hand in mine,
Nor ever murmur nor repine;
Content, whatever lot I see,
Since ’tis Thy hand that leadeth me.
And when my task on earth is done,
When by Thy grace the vict’ry’s won,
E’en death’s cold wave I will not flee,
Since God through Jordan leadeth me.
*We did not sing the second verse (for brevity and emotions' sake), but it's one of my favorites.
It's hard NOT to steal the "Saintsgiving" rename of the holiday with New Orleans (finally!) doing so well this season, and given my nephew's new obsession with football and love for our Saints.
Our family got together for Thanksgiving last week and had such a great time catching up and visiting. We also ate a little bit...but anyway. :-) We were able to take Thanksgiving dinner to Nan and Pop Ball's, who have dealt with major health issues this year, and get some good visiting in.
And since my sister and her family alternate holidays between both sets of in-laws, we also tied Christmas in with Thanksgiving the next night.
For Christmas this year, my parents and I gave my nephew a Saints uniform, which to our delight, could not have gone over better. Caleb was SO cute as he opened his helmet, then his whole uniform, then his football. He couldn't get into the uniform fast enough, leaving his original outfit laying by the hallway. :-) I, of course, couldn't get enough pictures of him in that precious uniform. It was just big enough for him to be able to wear it for a while, and hello -- is there anything cuter than a child in a too-big football helmet?!
The next day, he played a good bit in the yard with Grandpa, who was more than happy to toss the football and frisbee with Caleb, take him on a tractor ride, and have their traditional race. They were so cute and I, much to everyone's shock, got tons of pictures to commemorate the fun.
Also involved in the weekend were roasting marshmallows (yay for a coastal Thanksgiving cold enough for a fire!), making Mississippi mud with Grammi, lots of battles between the Army, British, Cowboy & Indian figures Caleb brought along, and several movie viewings, including "The Alamo" and "Night at the Museum."
And my weekend was capped off by a situation I ALWAYS love -- time with cousins and childhood friends, who, when the moon is just right, all get to come together for some quality, invaluable hangout time when we're all home. (Naturally, I forgot my camera. It's tradition.)
All in all, it was a fantastic time all the way around, with a good balance for me of work, play, home, and getting out and about.
My parents are currently working on a HUGE project: reflooring their house. (I know -- ouch! But what a great reward once it's over.)
Anyway, when we were all home for my Daddy's birthday in September, they asked our opinions on the type of flooring they'd chosen. They had a sample and were showing us how it looked against the fireplace, etc.
Caleb was busy flying Star Wars ships around as we talked about it, and at one point when he landed near us, I asked his thoughts on the new floor.
As soon as my sweet nephew made an expression pretty close to the one in this picture, just like it was yesterday, I could see my Grandma Johnson's dining room table, and watch her rolling out the dough for chicken and dumplings while singing sweet hymns in her gorgeous alto voice.
And the ceiling in Nan's house in Woolmarket -- all the wood and knots and how fascinating it looked from way down where I was playing on her oval rug.
And my Aunt Mildred's dishwasher-less kitchen -- the stove and sink and how she was always ready with fun conversation and fresh pitchers of lemonade, no matter what time of year or day you visited.
And Uncle Gary and Aunt Renee's dining room, and the countless meals and birthday parties and cakes (by Renee!) that we celebrated so many fun years over.
And the light fixtures that hung from the wood ceiling (much like my Nan's) at Woolmarket Baptist Church, and how I always daydreamed about swinging from them off the balcony all the way into the choir loft.
It's a strong possibility that a few of those decorative items I'm recalling weren't top of the line, or the most updated recommendations from interior designers, yet they were and still are vital to my memories. They helped compose the lyrics of my childhood.
So, in that rush of memories, I wasn't too shocked when Caleb asked with a puzzled look, "Why would Grammi and Grandpa get a new floor?"
Pulling him into a hug, my mom said, "Well, this carpet is just too old to keep, but you can always remember Grammi and Grandpa's old floor."
And really, she's right.
No matter what floor we're standing on, our memories are a key part of our foundation.
And that (as infamous former Jackson, MS, mayor Frank Melton used to say), is the bottom line.
I'm so thankful for so many blessings in my crazy life (despite my attempts to mess it all up):
1. Friends in many places -- high and low (geographically, of course) -- who actually want to spend time with me. Wha?!
2. FOOTBALL SEASON!
3. Good music. I do love a good lyric, and set to fun tunes, even better. And LIVE..... ::happy sigh::
4. The option to look at a situation, make the best of it, and find ways it can be improved. For whatever reason, this never gets old for me. (Ok, maybe some days at 4:45pm it gets old. But usually, I'm all up for it.)
5. Pop Ball. I talk a lot in conversation and in writing about my Nan, and many times include stories about The Colonel, but I know for a fact that I don't give him the "air time" he's due. Mr. Cliff has not only been wonderful for my Nanny and for our family, but he has led a rich, full life in which he's done #4 on this list tirelessly, and has done it with gusto and without regard for age, life hindrances, or disasters of any kind. I admire this man more than I could say, and thank him with all my heart for being the only grandfather I can remember ever knowing. It can't be easy to jump into a family like ours, but he did it, and last weekend he turned 87. God bless him.
Nah, not the one MJ did (though that may be 40, too), but the one Neil Armstrong did (or did he? hmmmmm).
It's interesting, though, how fast technology has moved along. I was surprised to learn this happened a mere 7 years before I was born. Really? I figured it was way earlier than that.
And to think that my Grandma Johnson, who was born in 1904, saw everything from horses and buggies....to birthing 11 children (!) in her home (!!)....to automobiles....to electric lights....to outdoor plumbing coming inside....to bought milk and chickens....to -- gasp! this was a horrid day that I WELL remember! -- 2% milk!....to television....to girls showing not only their ankles to men they weren't married to, but also their legs....to telephones....to an actual boombox....all all by the time she passed away in 1991.
Whatever side of the walk-on-the-moon debate we're on, we gotta admit: a lot has happened in the last 100 years, much less the last 40.
You go, Neil, and Grandma Johnson, and Pop Ball, and Nan, and Aunt Mildred, and Uncle Isaac, and all the others who did and continue to stick with this crazy fast world for as long as you have. One small step for man; one giant leap for mankind.
