Baby Steps

This is a beautiful photo of Mom supporting me as I walk. I think of many blogs that I could write when I look at this photo, but I will write what my thoughts are about lately. This is how blogs usually come about: I have a little seed of a thought, and/or I think of the name of a blog that I want to write.

"Anyhoo", as Mom would say: My Mother has taught me things all of my life and the amazing thing, since she is 89 and I am 64, is that I'm still learning from her. I know it isn't her formally teaching, it is just what I'm learning in this process.

I am talking about patience, tolerance, what is important,not forgetting to take care of self to be better able to help others, don't plan too far ahead, being flexible and so on.

On a day to day basis, I try to stay loose, not to make unbreakable plans and not to get too caught in having my own way. At this point in my life, it is not about me. However, I certainly don't do this perfectly!

What Mom has taught me, is that most of the stuff is "little" not hugely important and almost anything can be changed or left out. A meal happens when it does and it isn't always the food I had planned on. My time to"do" something or go somewhere, isn't always when or how I want to.

The people who are in and out on a regular basis almost everyday don't always put things were I want them or do the things I think I would like them to, but they afford me time to be by myself, to meet with my friends,or to do errands.

I am far more capable than I ever thought I was or could be. I am doing things I had never planned on doing. Being mad and impatient doesn't help much...it wastes a lot of my energy. It is far more productive to say "hmmm" and move on to the next thing. People are people and they pretty much stay who they are and if I want to see them I need to accept them as they are, not who or how I would like them to be. There are few things that I MUST do; I know this because when I can't,the world keeps on turning.


I have learned that what is in important in a spouse is not that he bring flowers daily but that he never goes to bed without making coffee so that it brews before I get up. When I am so tired I have to fall into bed with the promise of cleaning up in the morning, that I wake up to a clean kitchen. That kindness is making sure my Mom gets a kiss from him every night. Love changes,grows,takes different shapes and still can last if we let it make its changes.

I know that when Mom taught me to walk, she probably never realized that she would still be teaching me to "walk" even at this late time in our lives.

More to follow provoked by this wonderful photo. By the way, I was about one year old in that photo!

Family times

Just recently I was with some friends and we got to talking about growing up ,and eating dinner with our families. Most of us are now 60-ish and our kids are long gone. I am always amazed that somehow I managed to come up with a dinner for 4 people most nights of the week. Now that my children are gone, it seems like an amazing task.

Before my Mom moved in with us, Arnie and I would grab something very simple and frequently eat on a t.v. tray....watching the news or some other program. My Mom finds it hard to eat that way. So now, I usually cook something and we eat at the kitchen table again. Most times, I have no idea what to make although some weeks I am better at planning.

What my friends and I were sharing with each other, was how most of our families sat down at a dinner table together, usually the same time every evening and ate a well prepared meal that included the food groups and a dessert. My Mom cooked for 5 people for as long as I can remember, and after my sister left for college, 4 of us, then just for she and my father until he died. She and my 2nd father ate together every night too, usually at the same time....in our family,dinner was at 5:30, come rain or shine.

My Mom washed, ironed, mangled sheets (for those of you who remember them days!), was in charge of a 3 story home, with an attic... our yard was large. She kept the house cleaned and well stocked. I know we had help maybe once a week. She didn't work outside of the home but she sure must have worked inside it!

I remember our kitchen so well and I remember it fondly. My father made our table out of an old door that he stained green. It was built in against an outside wall and it was big. My sister helped Mom with the dishes. (I apologize for the photo Sharon, but dig the jeans and saddle shoes!).The little guy is my brother. I have no idea why there were no photos of me in this group. I either ran outside as soon as I could, or was in my room, being punished for not eating. It was a lovely livable home and a good time to grow up in.