by jphilo | Feb 12, 2016 | Family
The Valentine’s Day frenzy is upon us, so this Fantastic Friday takes a look back at a Valentine’s Day, 2013. It wasn’t very fancy, but it was full of love and its own kind of romance.
Our Healthy Valentine’s Day
Valentine’s Day at our house was about as healthy as they come:
- No lunch date because Hiram spoke about heart health at a noon meeting for a church group.
- No home-baked sweets for Hiram because he’s watching his blood sugar.
- No heart-shaped box of milk chocolates because they contain dairy.
- No flowers because they make me sneeze.
- No dinner out because a) we’re just getting over viruses and have no desire to catch new ones, and b) Hiram helped the high school worship team at evening practice.
Our romantic Valentine’s dinner consisted of:
- Whole wheat spaghetti with marinara sauce,
- Crispy garlic bread,
- Greek salad,
- And fresh pineapple for dessert,
- With a tissue box centerpiece because we’re almost but not quite over the aforementioned virus.
In fact, our healthy Valentine’s Day was making me sick until I thought about:
Thank you God, for romance alive and well at our house!
by jphilo | Feb 13, 2015 | Reflections on the Past
This week marks the beginning of a new Gravel Road feature called Fantastic Friday. Each Friday a fantastic blog post from the past will be given an encore airing. I hope you enjoy what you read as much as I enjoy thumbing through the archives and choosing them.
With Valentine’s Day almost here, this post about Mom’s Valentine wish (circa 2012) sprang to mind immediately. It truly is a favorite post because it shows the depth of Mom’s love for Dad, who died in 1997 after a 38 year battle with multiple sclerosis.
When Mom and I kept our standing lunch date last Tuesday, I mentioned that our next lunch would fall on Valentine’s Day. “That’s kind of fun, Mom. What would you like for Valentine’s Day?”
She thought for a few seconds. “Well, what I really want for Valentine’s Day I can’t have.” She fiddled with her coffee cup. “So I might as well not mention it.”
“Go ahead,” I encouraged her. “What do you really want?”
“What I really want is a few more years with your dad before his mind went…” She paused and moved her fingers in a circle at the side of her head. Her brow furrowed, and her blue eyes looked sad. “…you know, before he was…”
“I know,” I whispered.
“He wasn’t with me that way long enough,” Mom sighed.
I nodded, not knowing what to say. There are no words for Mom’s loss. Dad’s diagnosis of multiple sclerosis at age 29, less than 10 years after their marriage. The love of her life struck down by multiple sclerosis. The end of her dream of being the wife of a county extension agent and mother to an increasing brood of kids. The loss of the bread winner, the protector, and leader of the family she loved so much and taking on those roles for the next 38 years as Dad slowly failed and finally died at age 67.
Now, 15 years after his death, what does Mom want for Valentine’s Day?
Not chocolate.
Not flowers.
Not a card.
She wants a few more years with her husband as he once was.
I looked at her, across the table, and said, “We can’t know what life would have been like if he hadn’t gotten sick. But I do know the life you gave us was a good one. You raised us well.”
She nodded and smiled. “I did a pretty good job, didn’t I?”
“You did,” I agreed and helped her into her coat and out the door.
Hiram’s off tomorrow, so we’re going down together to see Mom. We’ll take her to lunch at Culver’s, one of her favorite places to eat. Mainly because she loves their frozen turtle custard.
Over dessert, we’ll tease her like Dad did. We’ll talk about his love of ice cream, his silly jokes, his infectious grin, the goofy songs he loved to sing, the cribbage rules he invented as he played.
Compared to what Mom has lost, lunch at Culvers doesn’t seem like much. But perhaps, sharing memories of Dad and indulging in the laughter and dessert he loved will bring him to her in some small way. Perhaps, over frozen custard, we can give Mom a memory of what she’s wanted for Valentine’s Day for years.
If you would like to see a certain post on Fantastic Friday, leave a comment in the box below, and I’ll try to find it. Happy Friday and Happy Valentine’s Day to all!
by jphilo | May 13, 2014 | Family, Top Ten Tuesday, Uncategorized
Mother’s Day was a very special time in my childhood home. Every year we celebrated Mom’s extraordinary efforts to provide for our family. But when Mother’s Day fell on May 11, as it did on the day of his birth in 1929, we celebrated Dad’s birthday, too. Since his birthday again fell on Mother’s Day this year–and because I’m madly editing page proofs for The Caregiver’s Notebook and don’t have time to blog much–today’s top 10 list gleans from two posts from the past: What My Mamma Taught Me and Top Ten Things About My Dad.
10. Never allowed discussions about politics to become cut throat. Dad’s most barbed political statement referred to his right arm, severely weakened by multiple sclerosis: It’s my Republican arm. Not good for much of anything.
9. The library is an excellent place to hang out. Mom checked out a lot of books and taught her kids to love to read. And go to the library where books can be checked out for FREE!
8. Birthday and Christmas presents matter. Dad picked Mom’s birthday and Christmas gifts carefully. He looked through the newspaper ads and phoned the store to quiz the clerk for a long time about whatever gift he wanted to buy. Once he made his decision, he arranged to have the gift delivered when Mom was at work.
7. Every woman should get an education so she can support herself and her family. Mom went back to school to finish her 4 year degree after Dad was diagnosed with MS in the late 1950s. She went on for her Master’s Degree in the mid 1960s. Our lives would have been very different had she not pursued those degrees.
6. People matter more than winning does. Dad loved to play cards with friends, but he didn’t play to win. He played to talk.
5. A strong family will be a constant support throughout life. As a teenager, Mom babysat many of her nieces and nephews. Those nieces and nephews open their homes to her whenever we travel back for funerals or reunions. Their love and respect for her is a touching tribute to her influence on their lives.
4. Proximity matters. Having Dad close by in his wheelchair always made me feel safe.
3. Teaching Is more than a job. Mom’s passion for her work demonstrated that teaching is not just a way to support your family. It’s a way to inspire a new generation and help them realize their own potential.
2. No matter what happens, find a reason to laugh. Dad’s constant sense of humor and thousand watt smile taught that lesson time and time again.
1. True love never fails. Mom cared for Dad at home from 1959 when he was diagnosed with MS until 1983 when he required nursing home care. Once he moved to the nursing home, Mom visited him daily, unless she was visiting her kids and grandkids, from 1983 until his death in 1997. Every time she walked through the door, his face brightened and his eyes shone.
Every now and then someone asks why I drive 45 miles to visit Mom Tuesday after Tuesday. The answer is simple. It’s what my parents taught me.
Love bears all things, hopes all things, believes all things, endures all things.
Love never fails.
1 Corinthians 13:7–8
What lessons did your parents teach you? Leave a comment.
