Happy 2011!

It's a New Year. Thank God!

Yesterday, since it was New Year's Eve we stayed at home to relax and watch some television. Suddenly, emergency weather warnings appeared on television sets all across Missouri.

St. Louis seemed to be right in the path of numerous tornadoes!

Ironically, our oldest son, Jayson was recently hired by The National Weather Service. It is his dream job, and has been his most reverent goal since he was barely six years old. Jayson literally knew almost from his first day of kindergarten that he wanted to be a 'weatherman.' He never changed his mind.

Unfortunately, Jayson hadn't started his new job yet. Instead, he was working at a temporary position where he sold custom suits from a store within a retail strip-mall. Upon watching the path of storms and possible tornadoes, we called Jayson on his cell phone. We needed to warn him of the impending danger. If he had been home, he would have been glued to his computer, taking delight in studying the various graphs and weather patterns.

"Jay, you'd better take cover. Tornadoes may be headed right for you!" Gary shouted into the phone. "Our lights just went out," Jayson replied. "I can't see anything."

Gary told him to grab his dog, Nimbus, together with his food and head for the safest place in his building: a metal desk near the center of the store. We kept contact with him by phone and soon heard noisy whooshes of wind gusts, debris cashing to the floor, and the proverbial sound of an approaching 'freight train.'

"It's coming Dad," Jayson said. Not surprisingly, his voice was filled more with concerned excitement, rather than worry. He was not afraid. Soon his phone line went dead. We could do nothing but wait. In the interim, we called our youngest son, Justin to take cover. The dreadful weather was headed his way too.

About ten minutes later Jayson was able to call us back. He was fine, but shocked by what surrounded him. He described the strong smell of gas, and his storefront windows that had seemingly exploded. Shards of broken glass littered the outside pavement. Scattered directly across the street (mere yards from where he stood) were mounds of heaping wood and numerous piles of debris. Homes that stately stood erect only a few minutes earlier, were now gone. Jayson described families who literally rose from their respective basement stairways only to discover a home that no longer existed.

"It looks like a war zone," Jayson told us.

Jayson's own parking lot was now full of downed fir, oak and maple trees; overturned cars and trucks; twisted metal signs and shattered glass. His 2010 rental car (newly acquired since his accident only ten days earlier) sat upright, but was profoundly damaged. Incredulously, nature's random path of the tornado spared him. If his store had been on the other side of the street, I shudder to think of what might have happened to him. His dwelling had no basement. Instead, my son, the newly graduated meteorologist had just survived the devastation of an F-3 (on a scale of 0-5) tornado with estimated 170 mile per hour winds. Ironically, Jayson was directly in the heart of it!

As I look back on 2010, it seems it was one of the worst I can ever remember living through. I am glad for the new year to finally be here! Great hope for the future in 2011 is not wasted upon me. Last year is one I don't ever wish to repeat in quite the same way.

For example, last January I endured painful shoulder surgery. In February my younger son's fiancee broke off their engagement (hurting him and worrying me). I learned in May (near Mother's Day), the devastating news of my mother's lung cancer diagnosis. In late July I fell off a horse named 'Monster.' From his given name I should have known better before I saddled up! I fell seven feet to the ground, flat on my back: breaking a rib and compressing two discs in my spine.

In the middle of November I became Mom's caretaker until she sadly passed away a few days before Thanksgiving. Just before Christmas, on December 21st, Jayson was in a terrible car accident. And, finally, (yesterday) the very last day of the year, Jayson lived through the midst of a devastating tornado! Later, I learned that Justin had a horrible asthma attack. His asthma has been in remission for a few years, so he hasn't filled his inhaler prescriptions in quite some time. By the grace of God he found an old 'rescue' inhaler while frantically rummaging through his drawers. The use of it allowed him to breathe again: our most precious commodity.

The above seems more like the trappings of an impossible novel than that of my real life! Still, when all is said and done I am grateful. Grateful for the glimpses of goodness I find veiled throughout 2010. Although I lost my dear mother during this last year, I know in my heart and soul that she is forever with me. I see her throughout the many facets of my life: good and bad.

One can always look at the glass half-empty or half-full. I prefer to think of the 'many glasses' I have lived through during 2010 as half-full. To that end, I did survive all of last year's adversity. Together with my husband and my two sons, we are all happy and alive. Is there anything more important? I think not.

Not so long ago, upon my mother's passing, I prayed for her to watch over my two boys. I asked God to hold Mom lovingly in His arms and allow her to be their guardian angel. I have no doubt that He has answered my prayers. My mother is watching over both of them: perhaps sitting upon their shoulders with a smile. I am sure of it.

Happy 2011.

The Sign

My dad looked much better when I Skyped him yesterday. His color was back and his eyes were not puffy or swollen. The product of "A good night's sleep," he told me. He went swimming again too: good for the brain and the body.

In his own way I believe my dad said "Goodbye" to my mother on Christmas Day. He wasn't able to do it beforehand. Although it may seem silly, my dad needed some kind of 'sign' from my mother telling him that she was at peace in the afterlife. Until the 'sign' appeared, he wouldn't feel she was at rest. Soon after Mother died, he told me as much.

During the exact moment that my mother passed away we were gathered around my parent's dining table. We sat listening to the lyrics of the song, 'Remember When' by Alan Jackson. The music played softly from their CD player, nearby. This was my parent's special song. Their favorite song. The meaning of the words were both personal and intimate to them.

On Christmas Eve, the day before my father's 78th birthday, he went to my Aunt Mary Ann's (my mother's closest sister) for dinner before attending church. She gave him a birthday card in a plain blue envelope; asking him not to open it until the next day. In honor of her wishes my father waited until the the next morning. He was of course, all alone in the house thinking of my mother. This was his first Christmas and birthday without her. She had only been gone a little over a month. A CD played the melody, 'Remember When.'

The birthday card from my aunt sat on the kitchen counter. Dad picked it up and opened it. It was a sentimental card. Printed inside were several lines carrying messages and memories of long ago. The front of the card however, began with only two words: 'Remember When.'

My aunt knew nothing of the song that played the moment of my mother's passing. She did not know it held a personal meaning to my parents. She didn't know the music or the lyrics. She simply liked the sentiments of the card, and purchased it on a whim a few days before.

Finally, my father received the 'sign' he had been waiting for.

The Mask

I telephoned my father this morning to ask how his Christmas and birthday went last Saturday.

Together with my brother Dave, my dad went to spend the holiday with my youngest brother Dan, who lives about thirty miles north in the heart of old-town Phoenix. I am so glad Dad got out of his house during his birthday and Christmas. His home is far too full of my mother's memories which would have been particularily hard on him so soon after her passing.

The perfect Christmas tree that I put up for my mother is still sitting on the hearth of my parent's fireplace. Hanging from two separate 'snowy' pine branches are the personalized ornaments sent by my sister Brenda: the heart with all of our names on it and the silver angel engraved with 'Mom'.

For the first time in over fifty years my father didn't see any brightly wrapped presents underneath the 'perfect' tree. No wrappings of colored foil paper; no bows in assorted Christmas hues; no needlepoint stockings hung from his fireplace mantle; no enticing aromas of roasted turkey or lemon meringue pie wafted from his kitchen. My mother, his partner in life was not there to do it for him this year. She is gone, forever. I doubt if her passing had ever felt so 'real' to him as it did last Saturday, Chistmas Day.

I Skyped Dad later this afternoon. He answered, but for the first time in weeks he didn't look very well to me. The holiday season has taken quite a toll on him. More than I expected to see. His hair looked a bit grayer, his bright blue eyes a little more dull, and his face appeared puffy and tired. Of course, he did his best to act like everything was fine, but even that attempt was not up to par. There were long, uncomfortable pauses during much of our conversation. Very unusual for the two of us. Our chatting typically flows very easily.

Perhaps my dad simply needs to recuperate from all of last week's festivities. Having to celebrate such a big holiday as Christmas, on the very same day as his birthday is often weary for him in a 'good' year. Having to do it for the first time with my mother no longer alive must have been immensely trying.

Everyone else it seems, has a bright and happy face at Christmastime. I'm sure my dad did his best to put on the same for everyone around him that day. But inside, deep within his heart and soul, he must have felt very alone. Inside, he was not smiling. My dear father mearly wore a temperary mask deemed necessary for the sake of all others.

Of course my father's heart is still broken. What do I expect?

Material Gifts of Christmas

Today I couldn't help but think of the material gifts I received for Christmas. I hadn't asked for anything. Who does at my age??!! Because of my mother's death I never seemed to capture much of the holiday spirit until the very week of Christmas. Receiving gits never crossed my mind. For days I was thankful to just get through the pain and loss of losing Mom. Even today, I'm not sure if I ever really will. But, for much of that I am glad. I believe that my mother is always with me in some, small way. Never-the-less, my family together with a kind neighbor and a long-time dear friend brought me a few fabulous surprises.

From my husband, Gary I received warm and fuzzy (but very stylish) pajamas, fluffy slipper boots (I'm perpetually cold), a new Christmas CD (I love music), and a signed, First-Edition copy of a novel written by my favorite author, Dominick Dunne. I am thrilled!

In addition to the above, my son, Jayson and his wife, Nichole purchased a gift-card for me and my husband to a new movie theatre here in town. It is quite unique, with the seating arrangement reminding me of the 'first class' section found in airplanes. The theatre itself is very intimate (reservations only), and has room for only about twenty people. The rugged leather chairs recline and are heated to keep the patron toasty warm throughout the show. Best of all, a small table is placed at each 'couples seating,' allowing for food and drink. A waiter quietly waits on each person throughout the movie, whispering 'Today's Special,' in addition to serving other 'real food' such as burgers, fries, ribs, chicken, salads, and the like. Movie treats including candy, popcorn, and various drinks are also included. We can't wait to go for this one-of-a-kind movie experience! I'm sure it will be great fun, especially since we're total movie aficionados.

My youngest son, Justin gave me the most beautiful card (which would have been more than enough). In it he wrote a touching note telling me how much he loved me and thanking me for being such a great mom to him throughout the years. I cried tears of joy while reading it. Who could ask for more? He also added a Macy's gift card and two tickets to a great play next month at our local professional Repertory Theatre. A wonderful 'date night' to look forward to next month!

A sweet neighbor surprised us on Christmas night with a darling 'Santa' box filled with chocolate covered pretzels and marshmallows dipped in white chocolate trimmed with red and green sprinkles. A separate bag of treats was provided for our dog, Doodles. He's already half way through them. I'm trying to hold off (as long as I can) on the pretzels and marshmallows. I have a real sweet tooth so I know I won't last long!

Finally, a very dear friend from Junior High School sent me a new, prized possession. My friend, Rose, lives in St. Charles, Michigan. Coincidentally this is the same little town where my mother was born and raised during her early years. This special friend surprised me with a box containing numerous and orderly typed pages depicting my genealogy. My eyes absorbed this fascinating history of my past, which details the lives of my ancestors born in Whales, all the way back to the 1700's. I couldn't put it down and read much of it on the spot!

The above gift means more than I can say. My friend took her own valuable time to trudge through knee-high, crunchy snow banks in piercing cold weather to locate the graves of my past relatives who are now resting in various local cemeteries. I can picture Rose now: all bundled up in a fur-trimmed, hooded parka in the hopes of shielding herself from winter's chill. She's driving down treacherous two-lane, icy-covered roads in order to stop to wipe frosted snowflakes off ancient tombstones; trying to find the correct names that will fulfill her mission. Somehow, someway, she did it. Thank you Rose. I will treasure this gift always.

Of course, I can't possibly leave out the package I received earlier this morning. It actually arrived last Friday: Christmas Eve. But, because our mailman won't drive to our house to deliver anything, the package went directly to our local post office. I wasn't able to retrieve it until today. As soon as I returned home I eagerly ripped away the brown outer paper only to discover a generously sized bag of home-made caramel corn. What a delicious and thoughtful surprise!

The above gift came from Rose, the same dear friend who did my genealogy history. During an e-mail not long ago, she mentioned that she was about to make home-made caramel corn in preparation for the holidays. The mere mention of this delectable confection made my mouth water! Through a message back to her I relayed a true story of my one and only attempt at making the same. After what seemed like hours of manual labor and many dollars of ingredients, my caramel corn ended up all sticky and gooey: unable for human consumption. How thoughtful of her to send me her own; a true gift from her heart (and hands). I'm munching on it now and it is absolutely delicious!

It's true that material gifts are not the true meaning of Christmas, nor should they ever be. As I said before, Christmas is about the the birth of Jesus, the love of family, being together, and sometimes even miracles such as the ones I experienced for myself, last week. But together with the true meaning of Christmas sometimes comes a few material surprises.

I'm not complaining. I appreciate each and every one of them!