by jphilo | Feb 3, 2015 | Family
This old bedroom set has been part of my life as long as I can remember. It once belonged to Dad’s mom, who died the year before I was born. It was promised to me, even though my sister and I shared it and a bedroom when we were kids. It moved with the Man of Steel and me when we married. When we outgrew it, it moved to our daughter’s bedroom. Last weekend it moved again, to the home she and her husband just purchased. But a few days beforehand, I used my camera to record some favorite memories about it.
10. My sister and I were quite territorial. We frequently measured the headboard and traced a line at it’s exact middle with our fingers and threatened, “If you cross this line, I’m gonna scratch your eyes out.” Then, if either of us poked so much as a toenail onto the other sister’s side, we scratched like wild cats, though our eyes are intact.
9. We were also quite territorial about whose got which drawers in the bureau. As I recall, Mom had to come in to assign them. She was good at assigning things since she was a teacher.
8. During junior high, I broke the bell of a plastic oboe on this bed post. It’s an ugly story. Trust me, you don’t want to hear it.
7. Also in junior high, I set our new hot roller set, with special steaming feature, on the mirror dresser and plugged it in. Mere minutes later, the rollers were hot and steamy, the dresser top’s finish was gone, and Mom was livid. In case your wondering, my junior high years were the nadir of my existence.
6. Also during my junior high years in the 1960s, Mom and her sister scored some free, discontinued wall paper sample books from a local paint store and used them to line every dresser drawer in both their houses. Don’t ask me why they did it or why I can’t bear to take the liners out and throw them away.
5. The first time the Man of Steel and I changed the sheets on the bed, about a week after we got home from our honeymoon, we found strings of jingle bells tucked between the fitted sheet corners and the mattress. Turned out my mother and grandmother, neither of whom ever said the word s-e-x out loud in my presence, pulled the prank. “Did you hear them jingle (insert significant eyebrow wiggle here) now and then?” Mom asked.
4. One night, when I was 7 months pregnant, 5-year-old Allen dived in between the Man of Steel and me during a thunderstorm. With the Man of Steel clinging to his side of the mattress and my stomach dangling dangerously over mine, we looked over Allen’s head and said, “We have got to get a bigger bed.”
3. When we moved into our house along the gravel road, our elderly neighbor, Marnie Goeppinger, brought housewarming gifts for our kids. She gave Allen a framed print of a Scottish soldier in a tall hat and kilt. Anne received these ceramic birds, Kay Fitch collectables, which graced the top of the mirror dresser for years.
2. Around age 4, Anne discovered that sharp metal objects could be used to “write” on wood. She practiced writing the first letter of her name numerous times and drew a self-portrait before she was caught in the act.
1. A year or so late, we heard a dreadful racket from Anne’s bedroom. We went upstairs and found her standing on the top of the mirror dressers, wearing her tap shoes, and practicing tap steps. When we told her to get down, she said, “But all the floors have carpets. This is the only place that makes the right noise.”
Oh, the memories. Here’s looking forward to more of them as Anne and her husband prepare for the birth of their first child in April. Do you have a piece of furniture with good memories attached? Share them in the comment box if you like.
by jphilo | Jan 19, 2015 | Family
In the past 7 days, I helped Mom move into assisted living on Monday, traveled to Wisconsin on Tuesday to help out with the our 2-year-old grandson and brand new granddaughter until Saturday, and joined our church Connection Group on Sunday afternoon to make 32 pans of scalloped potatoes and ham for an upcoming fundraiser.
After a week in the whirlwind, I am home alone today.
Catching up on neglected tasks.
Sitting in my comfy chair writing.
Reflecting on the many changes our family has undergone in a few short weeks.
2 moments stand out amongst the tornado of moments that swirled around and above and under and through my heart in 7 short days. The first moment came after my brother and I had moved Mom’s furniture, arranged her room, and returned to take her to her new home. When I announced it was almost time to leave and asked her to wait until I was done in the bathroom. While I was otherwise occupied, Mom grabbed her walker and headed out the door.
A few minutes later,
I found her in the garage,
standing in the 7 degree weather,
waiting to begin her new life with the grit and determination that is her hallmark.
The second moment came during my Wisconsin sojourn. I was sitting in the rocking chair holding our newborn granddaughter while her mommy spent some time with her big brother. I looked down at this little one’s tiny perfect face, felt the soft rise and fall of her breathing against my chest, and breathed in her sweet baby aroma. And there, in the center of a month marked by the gale force change, a calm descended upon my windblown heart.
Time evaporated,
my heartbeat slowed,
my body relaxed,
and I thanked God for wrapping my arms around the gift on my granddaughter’s new life.
by jphilo | Jan 12, 2015 | Family
Scholars attribute the saying “All good things must come to an end” to Chaucer, whose end came a long time ago. Other scholars believe the saying was around long before Chaucer. Whoever first spoke or penned those words, I don’t much like them right now. Because those words–and the truth behind them–have settled upon our family with inevitable finality.
Today, Mom is moving into assisted living.
I told her the change needed to be made during our December Camp Dorothy Extravaganza. Her reply? “I knew this day would come someday, but I didn’t think it would be so soon.” Strange words from an 86-year-old, I thought, until she added, “My mother didn’t go to a nursing home until she was 93. I wanted to beat her record.”
“But, Mom,” I said, “this facility is much different from Grandma’s nursing home.”
We talked for a while longer, and she said she just needed time to think. Then she picked up a deck of cards and laid out a game of Solitaire. I watched her wondering what she was thinking, and how the familiar motions of shuffling and organizing the cards by number, red on black on red, aided her thinking.It must have done the trick because she soldiered on through the day in good spirits. Later that evening, when I was helping her get ready for her shower, she said, “I’m sad, Jo,”
“It is sad, Mom,” I agreed. “What’s making you most sad?”
“I won’t ever see this house again,” she said. And with those words, my heart broke. Somehow, I managed to not cry. I couldn’t cry because getting Mom in and out of the shower is dangerous enough without a camp director, blinded by tears. But my heart was–and still is–cracked in two. My mother, whose decline is partly due to Alzheimer’s, clearly saw what I couldn’t bear to admit during a month of constant caregiving, hard decisions, and anticipated changes. Mom knew before I did that all good things must come to and end, which means this.
Camp Dorothy is closed. Forever.
by jphilo | Dec 22, 2014 | Family
Camp Dorothy is gearing up for Christmas, or to be exactly exact, for pre-Christmas. Over the actual holiday, the camp’s namesake will be heading to points north to spend a few days with her oldest daughter’s family. The camp namesake’s view of the travel plans?
Why am I going further north in December?
The answer, in the camp director’s opinion, is simple. The past two weeks have been a whirlwind of activities for the campers–Judge Judy, naps, games of Rummicube, naps, Wheel of Fortune, naps, 3 square meals a day plus snacks, naps, library runs for the camp’s namesake, naps, The Price Is Right, naps, Man of Steel flat on his back for five days, naps, out-of-town doctors’ appointments for both campers with the camp director as chauffeur by the camp director, and more naps. Enough of a whirlwind of activity that the camp director one of the campers needs some down time. The camp director’s view of the travel plans?
Where better to relax and watch the snow fall than further north in December?
The camp’s namesake isn’t buying her younger daughter’s logic, but she brightened when the camp director said Dorothy’s oldest daughter bought her mother a new pair of fleecy, fuzzy, warm pajamas. Perfect December attire for Camp Dorothy North activities such as Judge Judy, naps, games of Rummikube, naps, Wheel of Fortune, naps, 3 square meals a day plus snacks, naps, fighting over a favorite chair with two lovable pooches, naps, The Price Is Right, naps, watching the snow fall, naps and the like.
Vanna White, eat your heart out.
In other camp news, the Man of Steel is feeling much better. By Tuesday, he took over duties in the camp laundry. By Wednesday, he resumed his duties as the camp handyman, and by Thursday he was back at work. And on Saturday, he filled as camp director so the full time director could have an entire afternoon to herself. When she returned after a few hours at her favorite coffee shop, the Christmas tree was up. Apparently, the Man of Steel added camp decorator to his resume during her absence.
What a guy.
Surrounded by such thoughtfulness, with the Christmas tree up and the lights twinkling, the camp’s namesake dozing during television Christmas specials, and the Man of Steel wearing a cranberry red sweater, it’s beginning to look and feel a lot like pre-Christmas around here.
From everyone at Camp Dorothy to everyone at your house, Merry pre-Christmas to you!
by jphilo | Dec 15, 2014 | Family
Camp Dorothy has been a happening place since Christmas Camp commenced last Monday. So much happening, in fact, that the Man of Steel’s back became jealous enough to go out, just so the MOS could join the fun Thursday evening and stick around all weekend.
You heard it right.
Camp Dorothy had enough campers Friday to Sunday to outnumber the camp director (aka: camp cook, camp laundress, camp housekeeper, and camp nurse) two to one.
Twice the campers = twice the fun.
The weekend was a blur of campers in motion–Rummikub games, listening to or watching ISU basketball games, and eating–punctuated by long stretches of campers napping long and hard.
Thank you, God, for naps.
Before the MOS hunkered down at camp, the camp’s namesake tried, unsuccessfully, to teach the camp director the times and channels for her favorite TV shows: The Price Is Right, and Judge Judy, Wheel of Fortune. Equally unsuccessful was the camp director’s attempt to introduce her charge to Downton Abbey and Peter Pan Live. But they bonded during Big Bang Theory.
Thank you, Jim Parsons.
As for the picture above, stop by on Wednesday to learn what that was all about. Suffice it to say, the camp director is now the camp namesake’s favorite child, thanks to some kitchen magic.
Uh-oh! The nappers are rising. Got to run!
by jphilo | Dec 10, 2014 | Family
Photo Credit: Phanlop88 at www.freedigitalphotos.net
10. My sister and I were quite territorial. We frequently measured the headboard and traced a line at it’s exact middle with our fingers and threatened, “If you cross this line, I’m gonna scratch your eyes out.” Then, if either of us poked so much as a toenail onto the other sister’s side, we scratched like wild cats, though our eyes are intact.
9. We were also quite territorial about whose got which drawers in the bureau. As I recall, Mom had to come in to assign them. She was good at assigning things since she was a teacher.
8. During junior high, I broke the bell of a plastic oboe on this bed post. It’s an ugly story. Trust me, you don’t want to hear it.
7. Also in junior high, I set our new hot roller set, with special steaming feature, on the mirror dresser and plugged it in. Mere minutes later, the rollers were hot and steamy, the dresser top’s finish was gone, and Mom was livid. In case your wondering, my junior high years were the nadir of my existence.
6. Also during my junior high years in the 1960s, Mom and her sister scored some free, discontinued wall paper sample books from a local paint store and used them to line every dresser drawer in both their houses. Don’t ask me why they did it or why I can’t bear to take the liners out and throw them away.
5. The first time the Man of Steel and I changed the sheets on the bed, about a week after we got home from our honeymoon, we found strings of jingle bells tucked between the fitted sheet corners and the mattress. Turned out my mother and grandmother, neither of whom ever said the word s-e-x out loud in my presence, pulled the prank. “Did you hear them jingle (insert significant eyebrow wiggle here) now and then?” Mom asked.
4. One night, when I was 7 months pregnant, 5-year-old Allen dived in between the Man of Steel and me during a thunderstorm. With the Man of Steel clinging to his side of the mattress and my stomach dangling dangerously over mine, we looked over Allen’s head and said, “We have got to get a bigger bed.”
2. Around age 4, Anne discovered that sharp metal objects could be used to “write” on wood. She practiced writing the first letter of her name numerous times and drew a self-portrait before she was caught in the act.
1. A year or so late, we heard a dreadful racket from Anne’s bedroom. We went upstairs and found her standing on the top of the mirror dressers, wearing her tap shoes, and practicing tap steps. When we told her to get down, she said, “But all the floors have carpets. This is the only place that makes the right noise.”
