Me
Through the years, my Aunt Bonnie has made dreams come true for many brides in the family. I know that might sound odd to many people, but my Aunt Bonnie made wedding cakes, and cakes for many other events. Her creativity was amazing, and her cakes beautiful.
Aunt Bonnie made my wedding cake, and my 25th Anniversary cake. She also made the wedding cakes for both my girls weddings. These were exquisite cakes that would have cost a fortune anywhere else, but she wouldn’t take payment for them. She said it was her wedding gift to the couple. And what a wonderful gift it was. Her cakes tasted wonderful, so they made the party a great success, but that isn’t all they were. The cake is the central focus, other than the couple, at the reception. The pictures are taken around it, and it is always featured in the photographs. So it was a gift that is forever treasured, and never forgotten.
As I said, Aunt Bonnie is very good at making cakes. They are truly a work of art, as you can see. She takes the design the bride picks 
and the ideas in the brides dreams, and turns them into a stunning reality. It is one part of the wedding day the bride can completely relax about, and just leave it in the capable hands of my Aunt Bonnie. She always has the bride’s interests foremost in her mind, and because she has such a sweet heart and spirit, the cakes she creates simply shine on the special day.
While she doesn’t make the cakes anymore, the memories and happiness she gave to those who were blessed enough to receive them will last a lifetime. You have given more than you will ever know Aunt Bonnie. Thank you. I love you more than words can say.
Every grandma will tell you that every moment with your grandchildren is a special one. From the first time you hold them after they are born, you just never get over how wonderful they are. They delight your heart with their antics and their humor, and even when they are being a little naughty, their charm will make it almost impossible to be mad at them.
Why is it so different with grandchildren than it was with your own kids. You knew you had to discipline your kids, and you knew you should with your grandchildren, but they are just so darned cute, and after all, it is their parents responsibility to discipline them…isn’t it? So, you spoil them and shower them with love, and their parents hope you don’t do more harm than good, but it just seems like you feel differently about kids behavior as you get older. The little things just don’t bother you as much.
What you notice instead is just how much you can love that little tiny person and just how easily they can wrap you around their little finger. It is a place you will live for the rest of your life. They will always have the ability sweet talk you, and make you feel like they didn’t. And while you know it is going on, you just don’t seem to mind. You simply don’t have it in you to be as hard on them as you felt you must with your own kids. And sometimes they are just so sweet that your favorite Grandma picture doesn’t even include Grandma, it was just a grandma moment.
So, you treasure each moment, each smile, each laugh, knowing that all too soon they will 
be grown up. It is with mixed emotions that you face that reality, because you realize that before you know it, they will be grown and their little kid days will be gone. But then you also realize that when they are grown up, they will marry and before you know it they will have children of their own, and the cycle will start all over, with new little grandbabies to love and hug, and to share those grandma moments with. And you realize how very blessed you are.
For Mother’s Day, my mom often asks us to do the projects she has planned on over the year. It is a great way to get things done that she would otherwise have to pay someone to do. So, we pick out a weekend, and get the plans made, and on the chosen weekend, we all descend on Mom’s house.
This year’s projects consisted of spring cleaning her bedroom, re-painting trim on the house, planting her flowers and cleaning the yard, and building a deck. Seventeen people showed up to help, a pretty good crew. We have been doing this for several years now, but it always amazes me that that so many people can have a general plan, but no true foreman, and yet the as the jobs are laid out everyone steps up and gets started.
At first, it looks like total chaos, then maybe organized chaos, but then suddenly, the different projects begin to come together, and before you know it something amazing has happened. Seventeen people who don’t normally do this kind of work…who are everything from mechanics to teachers, students to insurance agents, in the medical field to police officers to those in the legal field…and yet today we were painters, gardeners, carpenters, housekeepers, and cooks, and that worked for us.
So, why do we do this and how is it that it works for us. Well, love can produce a multitude of talents that we didn’t really know existed. My mom wanted nothing more than to have her children all together. 
It wasn’t just about the projects, although those were important to her too, but she has always liked it when her children are together. The projects turned out great. And while we are not quite finished, we will be tomorrow, and for another year, we probably won’t all work on a big project. But Mother’s Day will roll around again, and new projects will be dreamed up. And once again, we will all become weekend warriors, ready to tackle the jobs she needs done. It’s not a bad Mother’s Day gift, after all. And in reality, to her, it is the best gift ever. Having her children all together showing their love for her.
I was watching an eagle as I went on a walk the other day. The day was beautiful, with just a slight breeze. The eagle was alone, soaring peacefully, like he was floating. He playfully dipped and swooped around, then glided peacefully around the clear, sunny sky.
It occurred to me that in many ways, his life was so free and peaceful. Of course, I know how he gets his meals, and the violence that is a big part of his world, but today, just for a moment, he is at peace…hurting no one and nothing.
It makes me think of how hectic my own life is. I am always on the go. Rushing to work, to care for my mom and my in-laws, to workout. And while my workout is a walk, preferrably outside, for 2 hours, it is still a part of the day that is scheduled, removing any semblance of free choice. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t change most things about my life or my day, with the exception of the health of my mom and in-laws, and obviously my dad’s passing, I think that sometimes, just for a moment, it would be very cool to be an eagle.
I think I would like to fly above all the hustle and bustle of today’s world. To be above it without having to be involved in it. To fly free for just a little while. The eagle is such a strong and beautiful symbol of freedom, that it always reminds me of hope. As I watch this eagle floating along, I am filled with a sense awe and peacefulness.
As I went on with my walk, it was with a little lighter step. My mind had wandered along the path of freedom that the eagle took, and I was able to share in what he sees as the eagle flies along.
When my girls were little, Bob and I wanted to start bowling. We started looking for a babysitter. I volunteered at the girls’ grade school doing throat cultures, and had seen a girl there who I knew to be the daughter of a man Bob worked with, and they just happened to live out in the country, just about a mile from our house, so it seemed ideal.
Molly was a little young, just in 6th grade, but she had 2 little sisters, Kelly and Jenny, so she was somewhat experienced, and her family lived close by, so if anything went wrong, help would come quickly. The decision was made. We asked her, and she agreed. She would babysit every Monday night, and assorted other days, when we needed her.
My first instincts about Molly were correct. She had some experience…lots of experience. She must have been a great help to her mom and dad, with her little sisters, because she knew what little girls would want to do. She played outside with them when the weather was nice, and inside when it wasn’t. At Christmastime, she would bring paper, glue, and glitter; and the kids would make us pictures to hang up for the holidays. And the best news, she never left us a mess. She even washed the dishes. The house was spotless when we came home. I was stunned, to say the very least! Where do you find a babysitter like that? Almost nowhere!! We were so completely blessed by Molly!!
But, more important than the blessing Molly was to Bob and me, was the blessing she was to our girls. They dearly loved Molly, and couldn’t wait to have her come to babysit the next time.
There were never tears when we left, there were smiling waves goodbye. We left our house, knowing that it and more importantly, our children were in great hands.
As the years went by, and our girls no longer needed a babysitter, Molly would go on to college and marriage. She moved to Iowa, and has children of her own. While I haven’t seen her in many years now, I am in touch with her family and hopefully her soon as well, on Facebook. While she has a life of her own now, I hope she knows that we will always have a soft spot in our hearts for the best babysitter we ever had!
When my grandchildren, Christopher, Shai, and Caalab were little, my daughter Amy stayed home with her kids and babysat Christopher for her sister. It was such a blessing, because Corrie and I would come over at lunchtime and have lunch with them. Corrie was able to spend precious time with Christopher, and I was able to spend precious time with my kids and grandkids…at least the ones we had then. Joshua would join our family later on.
Amy’s house was a lively place those days. The kids kept her running and there was never a dull moment. I’m sure she was exhausted many times, but I hope she knows what a blessing she was to Corrie, Kevin, and me. The knowledge that the children were happy and well cared for, as well as loved, brings a peace of mind that cannot be matched. And most daycares do not allow parents to stop by for lunch, as it disrupts their day, and the children can get cranky when the parent leaves, but, while he hated to see his mommy go, Christopher was fine, because he was with his Aunty Amy, and his cousins.
Don’t get me wrong, there were the normal fights and competitions during the day, but because of the close surroundings, a close friendship grew. Since Christopher was 1 day older than Shai, they had spent all their lives together, and would do so until they started grade school. First, in Amy’s care until she needed to work full time. Then in their next sitter, Dani’s care, and finally the pre-school/daycare they would go to before grade school began. Theirs would be a friendship to last a lifetime. And when Caalab came along, they would work very hard to be big helpers to Amy, even though they were only 17 months older than he was.
The kids got personalized care from Amy, because she had just the two, then three. She would not babysit Joshua, because she went to work before he arrived. I feel a little sad for him, because he did not have that special time with his Aunty Amy like Christopher did. She taught the kids things, played games, trained them in walking, pottying, and talking, although she might regret that part sometimes. Amy played a big part in those kids early lives, and I was
always glad.
The days the kids spent together with Amy were filled with giggles and laughs, and a few tears, but she would kiss the boo boos and stop the fights, and get things back into fun mode very quickly. Whenever I was there, I could tell that the kids were so happy and blessed. I wish I could tell you about everything they did during those days, but unfortunately I didn’t get to see that part of the day like Amy did. I just know that the babies grew into happy children, and we knew that they spent every day in the company of friends.
Today I went to my niece’s graduation party. There were a number of small children at the party, and a good time was had by all. In particular, there was a incident in which one of the small children, Zackary, was being held down, and tickled by two adults. As they gave him a moment to breathe, another niece, Jessi said to her boyfriend Jason, who was one of the adults tickling him, along with her sister Kellie, that when it came to tickling, you must show no mercy.
Well, that got me to thinking about another child, who was very ticklish…my sister, Caryl. She was always quite a giggly kid. She had a laugh that was infectious, but it was not her laugh that really got my sisters and me laughing…it was the tickle torture!!! Caryl was so ticklish that it is something none of us will ever forget. After performing the tickle torture on Caryl several times, we had given the attack that name. And the name was fitting, because it truly was torture for her, but we did it in the spirit of fun.
Caryl had to be one of the most ticklish people in the entire world, and she would scream and kick and laugh, but it was so funny that we just couldn’t get enough of the tickle torture. We would all get in on it. We held her down and tickled her until tears rolled down her face and she was begging us to stop. I suppose that was mean of us, but it was just so funny…and she did survive it, after all.
And because my sisters and I were, horribly mean, we would often descend on Caryl without warning. She would start begging us not to even before we got started. But, it wasn’t our fault, it was Caryl’s, because she was so funny…and we were, after all, just kids.
As I said, Caryl did survive our torture, and has grown into a wonderful woman. She became a Respiratory Therapist and works in the Cardiopulmonary Department at Memorial Hospital of Carbon County. She still has a great sense of humor and yes, she is still very ticklish. I like to think my sisters and I played a small part in the lovely woman she became, but I seriously doubt if she would say that the woman she became was due to the tickle torture.
We all do it. Many won’t admit it, but it is true nevertheless. We all hear voices. They are the voices of our past. Our parents, grandparents, teachers, friends…whether they are living or not. Our mind is a big storage facility, a flash drive if you will, that holds the things we have heard, read, seen, tasted and smelled. If you think of a favorite food, that taste will suddenly appear, not as strongly as if you were eating the food, but you know the taste of your favorite food. You know it’s smell. You remember events of your life. Things you have seen, good or bad. They are burned into your memory. You remember stories you have read, or text books, maybe not word for word, but the knowledge you gained is still with you today. And you remember the voices, can even hear them very clearly, of loved ones who have gone on before you, or friends you haven’t seen in a while, teachers from your school days, parents, grandparents, speakers, singers, movie stars and even just the passerby who said something that struck you at the time.
The lessons my dad taught my sisters and me still ring strongly in my head. He told us things like, “Never let the sun go down on your wrath” and “go to church” to teach us the right things to do in life, but the things I remember even more, now that he had gone home to be with the Lord, are the teasing, funny things he said. He would do something, like tug on our hair and then pretend he hadn’t done it. When we would “retaliate” by flicking him with our finger, he would look at us in mock innocence and say, “You struck me!!” We would answer, “I wonder why??” He was an incorrigible tease. He thrived on it, and so did we. His teasing filled our lives with laughter. He never lost that…never. I can still see him coming out of their bedroom in the mornings and the teasing would begin. I would say, “Well, it’s about time!!” And he would shake his finger at me, looking shocked the whole time, that I would say such a thing. Our lives were filled with teasing and innocent pranks. I wouldn’t have it any other way. The pictures they create and the words I hear are with me always. He had an amazing imagination, and you never knew what he might come up with next.
I can also hear the things my favorite teachers said, as well as others who had an influence on me. Sayings with a positive impact are forever tied to the person who said them. I can repeat lines from movies and picture the scene, vividly. Songs I like run clearly through my head, sometimes over and over. Yes, like everyone else, I hear voice…every day. Voices from the past, as well as the present, run like a movie in my head, reminding me of right and wrong…of where I came from…and where I want to be. I would never change the fact that I hear voices.
My girls, like most kids had great cousins, but like most kids, there were good days and bad days. This applied to both sides of our family. Their relationships with their cousins have spanned 3 decades and have grown into beautiful friendships, despite the rocky starts.
Since I was the second child, my older sister’s children were the only cousins on that side for a long time. Her older daughters were always a source of goofy antics, while providing my girls with a little bit of a look at how the bigger kids acted, and what they did. Her son gave them a glimpse into what boys were like…quite a culture shock for my girls who were around mostly girls. Her younger girls were really the ones my girls played with, and also, where most of the fights occurred. There were fights of the real and imagined kind. Now many people might not know what an imagined fight is, but I know. It is when one child tells on another child for hitting them, when in reality no such event took place. I expect this type of fight happens more than we know. Thankfully, as time goes by, those same kids who fought like cats and dogs, and then turned right around and played until they dropped from exhaustion, grow up to become wonderful adults, who are the best of friends and the greatest allies for life.
On Bob’s side of the family, things were much the same. Great little friends, but also serious little fighters when they felt like their territory was being invaded. The would play together, quite happily, until someone had a toy or other item…such as the seat of an old tractor that Grandpa had, and the other one wanted. Such invasions of perceived territory, might get one socked in the nose…or even bitten. Because the kids were all so close in age, they each felt like they were the one in charge, and sometimes the only solution was to make them all come in and let them know that…none of them was in charge. We were!! Again, thankfully those years have passed and yet, the relationships survived.
There truly is nothing like family. It doesn’t matter what you agree or disagree on, you always love each other. You are friends forever, because you have grown up with all the 
secrets, adventures, and yes, fights that build the lives of children. You have survived the most embarrassing moments, the most horrible looks, and those awful fads that your parents still cringe about.
You are now adults with kids of your own. You have come full circle…and your kids are fighting with their cousins, wearing clothes and hair styles you hate, telling you that you don’t understand anything…basically after all those years of trying to be yourselves, you have become…your parents.
When I was a girl, the only kids who ate their lunch at school were the ones who rode the bus from the country, and the ones whose mothers worked. A working mother was more of a rarity in my grade school years. Moms back then made their children’s clothing, canned vegetables and fruits, made jams and jellies, went to PTA meetings, worked as room mothers, and helped with homework.
I remember the bell ringing at lunch, and running out the doors of the school and off to the house. Mom would have soup and sandwiches waiting for us. My favorites were Chicken Noodle soup and Grilled Cheese Sandwiches, and Cream of Mushroom soup with toast. Yummy!! At that time, I was sometimes jealous of the kids that got to eat their lunch at school, but when I went to junior high and had to eat my lunch at school every day, I sometimes missed those days when I could run home and Mom would have our lunch waiting for us. Funny how you don’t really know what you have until it’s gone.
Bob’s family lived right across the street from the school during his early grade school years, so his experiences were similar to mine, and for him it was kind of cool on track day, because his mom could watch the meet right from her yard. My cousin, Greg, who was a friend of Bob’s back then, remembers her cheering them on from the yard. It was a memory of her that he mentioned to me just recently. Bob’s family would later move to the country and he would become one of the kids who got to eat lunch at school. I’m not sure which one of us got the better deal…I have to lean toward me.
Yes, things were different when I was a kid. Moms had the ability to be much more involved in their kids young years. It kind of makes me sad for the kids today whose mom’s have to work, but I guess that if it’s something you never had, it’s easier not to miss it. I don’t say that those were better times, but while we maybe had less “things” in our lives, we were so blessed in so many other ways.
Our definition of motherhood has changed through the years, but moms really haven’t. Even if they have to work, moms do their best to be a positive influence in their children’s lives. The love and nurture. They discipline and scold. They teach and they even learn from their kids. They wipe our tears and kiss our wounds. They wear so many hats. Sometimes I think that they have more skills that any other occupation, and yet they often receive the least amount of thanks. So today I want to take a moment to thank my mom and my mother-in-law for raise Bob and me up to be the people we turned out to be. We couldn’t have done it without you. We love you Mom!!
