Grandchildren - There is nothing more to say

In truth, there is so much to say. A grandchild is similar to your own child yet in ways better. Most grandparents would probably agree. Possibly it is because one is just older and a bit wiser from their stumbles through raising children themselves. Maybe it is the way a grandchild hangs on every word a grandparent says. They seem to think that a grandparent is wonderful, the best, they could stay with them forever.

The blessing of Kylie & Brexton has been just that... A true blessing. Although never did another thought or consideration ever pass through my mind. There is so much wonderment in a child. From birth til say about 6 or 7. Until they have gone out into the world more and there are other influences to take their mind in other directions. Their minds are open canvases. Every thing around them in some way impacts them. It is here at this time when one is most moldable. Their mind is free from judgement. They are free from the non-believer syndrome. Anything can be true in a child's mind... Their imagination is endless.

Often I wondered why my children knew things about my mother that I didn't. Until one day when I walked in to find my mother with my children telling them stories of her childhood. Something that she had never done with me. It seemed so effortless for her to let them see her as she really was. They watched her as she told the story much like Kylie would watch me when I told her stories of the past. Her interest just as intense and focused as my older children on their granny. It is this relationship that taught me so much. Not only did it teach me a wonderful form of love - that of a grandparent and a grandchild, but it also taught me that it is special and unique. It was not a gift that was just for myself to share with my grandchildren, yet for any grandchild to share with their grandparent.

Fondly memories of my own grandmother came back. Of sleeping on her sofa and waking up to the low hum of morning AM radio, the smell of fresh boiled coffee on the stove, and the sight of her milling around the kitchen quietly preparing breakfast. So many things I remember of my grandmother... Precious memories that I will forever hold close to my heart. It is a wonderful feeling knowing that someone will hold similar feelings for me hopefully one day.

There are many names given to grandmothers. Names such as Grandma, granny, Nana, MaeMae or mema. I have been graced with GG. I don't really know where it came from, I only know it is who I am. I look forward to the many more times I am allowed to share with my grandchildren as well as the great, and great-great grandchildren to come. Each one precious in their own special way. It has been and I am sure will be one of the biggest blessings I will ever experience.

Peace & Love

GG

Sunrise or Sunset

There is nothing more beautiful then the moments before the sun breaks on the horizon. The colors seem to dance across the sky as if to announce the beginning of a yet another opportunity. The optimism that there is still time to say all the words that we have always wanted to say to those who mean so much to us and possibly even those who don't. Still time to begin or finish all those projects that are lingering in the wings. Still time to pursue that lifelong dream we have never quite had the courage to chase. A sunrise gives a feeling that there is still time... there is still hope.


Morning has always been a favorite of mine. The smell and taste of that first cup of coffee. The sounds of the day as it awakens once again to start all over. Yes, I am a morning person. And I do prefer a sunrise over a sunset. It is not that I do not think that a sunset can be a sight that is undescribably beautiful. I have seen the western sky painted in orange, pink and purple as if reaching across in an attempt to touch the other side. I have seen thunder heads billowing high against the western sunset lined with the last light of day tracing its outer edges as if to announce some majesty about to arrive. It is more what a sunset represents to me: The ending of a day. The entrance into the darkness of night. Don't get me wrong I love the nighttime too. Ask anyone who knows me well and they will tell you that a full moon rising is one of my favorite things to watch.


Many times conversation has developed over the choice of which is more beautiful. A task that truly I think both sides could argue. Eventually it comes down to ones preference. The next time you find yourself outside on an early morning and the sun is beginning to peek across the horizon, consider my view. Think on the things that you "still" want to do. Those words, those actions, those dreams you would love to pursue. Til next time....


Peace,
Janie

Froggie Came A Courtin

Last evening I went outdoors to work a little in my yard. The days have been so wonderfully warm (100+) that it has been difficult to do it any other time. Yes I know I could go out early in the morning, and that is what I usually do, yet this week has been an exception. Summer is definitely in full swing. Sunday was the first day of Summer officially yet he arrived as a guest about a week or so earlier. Hopefully this means that he may leave earlier too. It is not that such weather is uncommon to Oklahoma, on the contrary. I remember many a summer when it seemed like every day was 100+. That was when I was younger and most of my summer days were spent down at the Carmen park in the swimming pool all day. The heat is not as kind to me these days. Age seems to take alot of things from you, no matter how much you want to believe they are still with you. However, this really doesn't have a thing to do with what I was going to write about... Guess I went off on a tangent... Another age thing.

While I tended my flower beds with watering and cleaning the dead flowers off I noticed the multitude of frogs that we have in our pond. It has always been a fact that our pond has more than its fair share of them, yet there seemed to more than normal. As I worked in my yard I felt as if I was being watched, and each time I would glance at the pond it seemed that more frogs had gathered at the edge and were looking my way. At first I didn't think much of it yet as the number grew it began to sort of get to me. I stopped what I was doing and attempted to get closer to the water's edge and the frogs that had congregated. There were frogs of all sizes, Big little, green, and brown. A few of the smaller frogs jumped in as I came closer yet many of them stayed where they were.

It took me back a couple years to a spring morning when it had rained all night long. It was before we had done the current work on the pond and it tended to overflow when the rainfall was constant and heavy. This had happened the night before. The water from the pond had came out of its banks and ran up and around the big elm which held the tree house that Vince had built for Kylie & Brexton running down into the bottoms. As I watched the area where the event had occurred, it seemed as if something was in the grass. The sun seemed to reflect off of whatever it was and it was obvious that it was alive. I put on my flip flops and ventured out to the soggy yard to see what it could be. When I arrived to its location, down at my feet I could see hundreds of tadpoles. They were everywhere and some still being pushed from the pond by the water that still ran over the bank. I walked the path from the pond to the bottom where the water began to be more sparse. I realized that as the sun was rising and shining down on the ground, the tadpoles that were not completely covered by water would soon begin to lose what little they had. As that thought and its outcome were developing in my mind, a crow landed and looked at the abundance of breakfast before him.

Something had to be done. These young frogs could not be left to such a slow and painful death. Most of the tadpoles did not even have legs yet and the ones who had started the slow growth of there appendages could not reach to the ground. This made the only possible way for them to save themselves, was to swim back to the pond. First off I do not think that they had the sense to know which way to swim. I had tossed a couple of them back to the waters edge earlier and they just came back out with the current that was still in the pond from the overabundance of water.

A nearby bucket was used to hold them as they were gathered one by one via my hand. A few small fish, probably minnows were also saved that day. The bucket would be filled and then taken to the side of the pond where the current was not as strong and the likely hood of them floating out a second time was less. I carried bucket upon bucket full of tadpoles and a few minnows. I started to count them after a while as I knew I had only begun to gather them and I was also curious as to the number of them there. Approximately 100 tadpoles were in each bucket. At the end of my venture, I had counted 12 buckets. So literally I had just saved the lives of thousands of frogs. As I stood up and looked over the area to see if I could see any glistening off of the flopping bellies that may still remain, I noticed our neighbor across the way. I could only imagine what he must have thought of me bent over with my butt in the air for the last 2-3 hours putting something into a bucket and then dumping it into our pond. Yet I felt good about what I had done. Strange as it sounded, I felt that I had done a good thing. Time passed and we were blessed with many frogs and although they grew to nice size and many times Vince or others would suggest we go down and get a mess of frog legs I had to refuse. They had become somewhat like pets. Eating the mosquitoes that could breed and lending a nice tune now and then in the evening hours.

As I looked down at the frogs that were looking at me, it was if they too felt the same way. Yea I know they are frogs... just frogs, but they have become a part of our place and close to my heart. I wonder if any of the larger frogs that I look down at now were possibly one of the ones that I saved that day. I will never know yet there are a few of them that seem to always look up at me in a special way.

Peace

Janie

What is Really Reality?

Recently a close friend of mine lost her husband suddenly. They had been outdoors enjoying an evening and an early spring storm that had just gone through, enjoying the cool rain and the active lightning it had brought. She was tired and decided to go to bed leaving him outdoors to continue his enjoyment. The next morning when she awoke to an empty bed. Thinking he had already gotten up she rose to go and begin her day with the man with the man she shared her life with. When not finding him in the house, she went outdoors. Sitting as if sleeping on the lawn, she found him. Peaceful, yet passed.

He had been a savior to her in some sorts. A life before where she had felt she had had little say as to what was her own. Somehow herded into a life which was not of her choosing. Not able to chase after her dreams as she had always wanted to do. Yet he had changed that. A divorce later in life in her mid 30's had given her a second chance. His appearance into her life only solidified that chance. Yes, he was younger than her, but soul mates have no age reference. They are connected beyond time. They were together continuously, sharing their dreams and playing their music. Making plans for the future and more. Then "reality" comes.... or so that is what some call it.

There are the usual obstacles to get over in regards to a spouse. Rearranging, accepting, and yes the paperwork. Yet at the age of 40 he did not think that he was in such a hurry to have his life in such order. Most of us see plenty of time ahead to do such things that are not as exciting or fun as simply enjoying life and those around us. She deals as best she can with all the occurrences that have come her way. Some of her insecure ways have come back to her and she struggles with them to overcome their desire to overtake her again. He saw the strength in her and gave her the ability to see it also. Yet now he is no longer there and she finds it hard sometimes to do it alone and wonders if she will actually be able to.

She attempts to all it was that they had talked about only the night before his passing. The plans they had discussed. It is a large undertaking for someone like her. She knows this and worries so much that she will not be able to carry on his dreams. Yet still she trudges forward in an attempt to do her best. His presence is everywhere around her. Guitars, music, clothes, tools, and so much more. Slowly she attempts to go through it. Yet at times she wonders if she can part with some of the items he left behind.

Dreams seem to haunt her at times. More frequently as time passes. She attempts to not sleep thinking that maybe they will go away. Exhaustion then takes over and she finds herself once again going to the place she does not wish to go. She is at home, when he walks in... She begins to argue with him as to where he has been all this time. He looks at her oddly and tells her he has been with her all along. She wakes up and it is as if she never slept. It is as if it were not a dream. The surroundings, smells, everything is like it was earlier. Yet for one thing. He is not there. This troubles her. She does not understand why she is dreaming like this. Why are they arguing so? Why does it seem so real, as if it truly was "reality". As he truly was right there beside her.

As a friend, I can only attempt to comfort her and give her my opinion. That being all it is... "my" opinion. It has been my experience that dreams serve mainly 2 purposes. First, to help one deal with the anxieties of life. To help us deal with the things that come to us sometimes and are too hard to face straight on, at least in the beginning. Dreams help us to sift through all the mess and sometimes makes it easier to get on with our lives. The other purpose: I am a believer that "true" reality is not necessarily known to all if to any. Man has always been someone who feels it necessary to be able to explain everything around him. He doesn't enjoy the fact that he may actually not be able to explain something and therefore it is more than him. Even in religion where "faith" is suppose to be the cornerstone, he attempts to manipulate the rules so that he can control what it is that is considered right and what it is that is considered wrong. In saying this I present my second opinion on dreams and their purpose. I think that sometime spirits of those passed can be with us. Especially when the bond is close (and sometimes when it isn't). He knew of her pain. He watches her day to day as she attempts to do her best, often questioning her actions, her motives. He knows her thoughts in regards to her isolation now that he is gone. The fear that her recluse side will once again creep back into her life and cover her in isolation. He wants to comfort her.

It is a beauty, that at times we have the honor of feeling the presence again of someone we love. Those moments when you smile to yourself because something so small made you think of them again. Those memories that come out of nowhere to remind you once again. In so many ways and by so many people, such thoughts are are considered to be foolish. Far from reality. Yet what really is reality? Is it just what man has taken and structured to fit his bidding. Something that be explained enough so that there is nothing left to the imagination and the wonder of God...

I challenge anyone to take a moment of their life... On a quiet early morning step outside and look to the east. Watch the sun as it slowly rises. Listen to the sounds around you. Feel the breeze as it blows against you or the warmth of the sun as it it shines down on you. Smell all that is life. Then ask yourself if any one person really knows what reality is. Can any one person know all that makes it all work? I think not. Life truly is a beautiful thing. Whether alive in this life or passed on to another. Allow your mind to be open to all that is around you, and you may be amazed at what you actually do see.

Peace

Janie

Just Another Hot Summer Weekend

As I am sure it has been noted, I did not manage to add to my blog over the weekend. I could make up many excuses as to why I was unable to do so..... from electrical problems to a death in the family. However the true excuse is that I just did not get to it. It was not that it was not important enough for me or that I did not want to. It was just that I never managed to do it.

There were many things that were happening. I mowed my yard and tended to my gardens. I planted more plants and made sure that my cats were watered and fed. I went to town and ran the errands that needed to be done, and that was just on Saturday. Vince was off visiting his dad with his brothers for Fathers Day and later his daughter came out to celebrate with him.

I hate to say it but Father's day holds no importance to me. I wish it did, truly I do. I have to say that I do appreciate the "daddy" of my grand kids - Kylie & Brexton. Jon may not be the biological father but he has proven himself so much more. I would rather have a daddy over the other any day. I am happy that they have that.

The man whom I knew as that man was far from a daddy. He is the reason that I don't celebrate the day, at least not in a personal way. Through the years I have learned to deal with the memories he left me. Memories of drunken nights and hideous outbursts. Memories of nights of fear and relief when he was finally gone. Memories of all the little tidbits he shared with me in regards to his feelings towards me. Not the normal ones of his love and support of me or his belief in my ability, but of the lack there of.

I will say that he did give me one thing. In the end before he passed, I went to see him one last time. It was a visit to try and convince him in his last days to be near to his family, especially his brothers and sisters. He refused to do so. Yet he did give me the opportunity to have closure with all that had occurred in the earlier days of my life when he was present and also the times when a positive presence from him would have been beneficial. He did not say anything. No apology or words of compassion. He sat in silence as I was able to voice to him my feelings.

I am thankful that it was not a moment of anger or raised voices, just the chance to say my piece. It was that night that he passed. My father did not give me much, in fact he gave me very little, but that last gift he gave me meant alot. It has allowed me to let go and move on. To not live in the past and dwell on the things that I did not have because of him. This does not mean that I was not affected in some way by my childhood, but I was given the chance to resolve it.

So to me... Fathers day is just another hot summer weekend. I look forward to the days when my own sons have their children, whether human or rabbit form. (This is a personal joke). I look forward to seeing the fathers they become. I can only give this one piece of advice, as a little girl/grown woman who did not have a daddy. There are times when I am sure that a child can aggravate a man. From the constant why questions to the messes they seem to find themselves in. Yet know this that a little girl looks to her daddy for security and for love. She looks to him for approval that she is the beautiful little princess and the intelligent young woman she wants so much to become. Never take for granted the influence you may have over her or him for that matter. Although I can not speak from a male point of view.

A little serious for my second entry.. Did not mean to intensify so quickly... hopefully tomorrow will find me on a lighter note. Til then enjoy the evening... and hug the one you're with.

Peace

Janie

What Exactly is a Rant?

I am sure all know the definition of a crazed woman.. Oh sure each definition may vary slightly in how one actually sees the crazed woman... Wild eyes, crazy hair.... Maybe screaming... Well rest assured I am none of those... Ok... maybe I am but very rarely am I all three at the same time... The rantings... Well that comes from my love to talk... and probably to have an opinion on everything.. Yet don't we all.. I mean really if given the opportunity wouldn't we all have something to say about something... Plus I am one of those people that think over everything. Over analyze is what my husband calls it, among other things.

Therefore I have created my blog... So that I can share my rants... They range from serious to funny.. from heartfelt to just stupid.. yet I think the best thing that a person can do is to think.. And even better to think for themselves. I was a timid child growing up and so instead of interacting with others most of the time I just sat back and observed. You may say how sad, however it has taught me so much... It helped me to understand some things much earlier than I think I would have normally, if ever thought about... It also made me a good listener. Maybe not a good listener in the way that you would normally think, but one who listens to all the things around them. Even the little things that alot of times go unnoticed. I learned that one can learn so much from those little things. How a person really feels... what they may be thinking...

I dont want to get to into too much as it will probably only confuse. My hope is to contribute to this on a daily basis... If nothing more than to help with my writing (something I have loved and done for most of my life) as well as just give me good practice.. If others read it... great!! If they manage to get some positiveness from it.. even better!! If they have issues with it or a differing opinion..... Perfect!!! I hope they feel the urge to comment on it. I am always open to new views, ideas and suggestions. I will be the first to admit that I am far from perfect and even further from knowing evrything about everything.. I said I had an opinion.... not that I knew it all.

So in saying that... I am off to write another day... (hopefully tomorrow) I can promise stories on just about any subject you can think of.. And some you may not know of... I also take requests.. Or at least will try.... I look forward to this venture.. As is all I do... I hope it is a challenge... I know it will teach me new things... and Im ready for the ride...

Peace
Janie