Angels In The Produce Department

It isn't a huge news flash, but I feel it needs to be shared.  There are still really good people out there who do small random acts of kindness that restore one's faith in humanity.  

Saturday evening, Jennifer bravely took all three of her children to a local grocery store with her. (She had offers to watch the kids but gracefully declined, determined to take the whole bunch.) While they were in the produce area, one of the children spotted some yummy-looking cherries and asked if they could get some.  Wise shopper that she is, Jen noticed them priced at a whopping $8 per pound and told her they "could not afford those" and moved along. But before they got too far away, an employee who obviously overheard their conversation, came over with a bag of cherries that had a big orange neon sticker on it, showing they were on sale for only $1 a pound.

I've heard that LIFE itself is just a bowl of cherries, but I sincerely hope that sweet person receives a star in their crown (on judgement day) for the small, thoughtful gestures that make such a difference.  On the outside chance that you might feel sorry for the store because they failed to make a profit on that "sale", rest assured. . . even though they are not the cheapest store in town, I will be doing a great deal more of my shopping there to make up the difference.

When Jen told me about it, a smile came into my mind.  Years ago, when I had her at the grocery store and she asked for something that I was about to explain to her we couldn't get because we weren't going right home and it would spoil in the car, before I could get the explanation out she said with a sigh, "I know, it's too expendable!" (meaning too expensive) Sounds like Jennifer may have also been disappointed a time or two before.  Sorry folks, some items are simply not worth the money they are asking us to fork over.  The sooner we can come to terms with that, the better off we will be.  However, I am happy my grandchildren got to have some yummy cherries.

Desperation

We are a happy family. We have fun. In fact, we have so much fun that we never want to go to bed and risk missing something exciting. Sleep deprivation is a serious problem in our nation but particularly in our family. It can cause all kinds of problems, but most noticeable is the irritability. Melissa's kids can fall asleep on cue and sleep 'round the clock if time permits. Chelle's kids are asleep in a timely manner night after night.

But Jen and Jon have NEVER had early-to-bed-early-to rise children. They are better described as late-to-bed-early-to-rise children. With so much energy to burn, they are like Apache horses, they run and run until they fall over from complete exhaustion, unless they begin the Battle of the Bed . After the typical playing hard outside, supper, homework, bathes, reading, etc., the trouble starts with the gambit of excuses after they are put to bed, i.e. "thirsty, hungry, dizzy, sore throat, scared, itchy, headache, the others are bothering me, ( and the heart-rendering) I just want to give you one more kiss and a hug". I've spent the night there enough times to witness Jen trying all the right things. The Supernanny techniques, withholding privileges, substantial rewards for good behavior, and good ol' corporal punishment. The little ones just don't want to give it up.

So, this morning, I scraped the bottom of the barrel of grand parenting for something that might make a difference. Since all their middle names should have been "go", we are grounded until further notice. . . no pre-school today, which resulted in broken hearts. These kids are extremely social and would much rather have a beating. Since I love the three free hours to run errands or clean house, I'D almost rather have a beating, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

Not only no pre-school today, but if tonight is a repeat, there will be no play group tomorrow. Thursday is not only pre-school again, but a field trip to the fire department! Often on Friday, I try to take them to the mall to play on the Dow furniture, but oh well, if they can't go to sleep without being put in restraints or being heavily sedated (just kidding, CPS), they will not get to partake of said festivities. And I will be sad too. Keep your fingers crossed for us!

Another Milestone

Friday afternoon on April 24, 2009, a few of us were able to attend the Commencement for UTMB in Galveston for Melissa Dawn McCauley.  In December, she received her Bachelor of Science Degree in Nursing, but we wanted to enjoy the entire pomp and circumstance at the graduation ceremony. 

 Jen couldn't get off work, but Chelle and I took Ella and Brennan.   Cheyenne and Ciara saved seats for us so we were able to sit together and it was a proud time for all of us. Chelle even had an opportunity to poke fun at me for tearing up when the music for the processional started. That stinkin' music has the same affect on me as the wedding march, auld lang syne, Silent Night or any other notable piece that rings in a momentous occasion.  It brings me to tears every time. 

Shortly after Melissa's name was called and she walked across the stage, the youngest two became restless so Chelle took them outside and next door to shake their wiggles out (thank goodness for her)!   Ciara and Cheyenne looked just beautiful and are always so well-behaved that we enjoy being with them.   Often they can be hilarious.  For instance . .  

There was a gathering Saturday evening in my home to celebrate my aging and becoming  and more feeble.  All three of my girls were there with 5 of my grandchildren.  It was Ciara's turn to shine. Melissa told the story of Chey's trip to the dentist recently. . . an outing that Cheyenne used to hate with a passion.  Then, they discovered nitrous oxide.  Well, it was already discovered, but Dr. Bell offered to use it with Cheyenne, who has found new joy in having dental work done.  The thing you should know about Dr. Bell is that he is absolutely determined none of his patients will have the slightest bit of pain, so he deadened her up really well.  She resembled something between Popeye and  a stroke victim.  

It reminded Ciara of the comedy routine that Bill Engvall does where a man was asked what he did for a living, when he arched his eyebrow and says, "What do you THINK I do for a living?Look at my face.  I'm a pilot!"   So, Ciara quipped that if someone asks Cheyenne the same question, she will have to say, (with one side of her face all scrunched), "What do you THINK I do for a living? Look at my face.  I sell snow cones!"   It was one of those local jokes (you woulda had to have been there, because I have not the words to describe what we saw).  We laughed a long time over that.

Ah, The Still Small Voice

My daughter, Melissa has always been a good listener. Even if she might not see the need to act on it, there was never any question that she heard, understood, and retained what was said.

A couple days ago an employee at BASF, and personal friend of Melissa's, called the health clinic and said she was concerned about a co-worker who was diabetic and wasn't "doing well". She asked if Melissa could come over there and just check on her. Since Melissa knew this person well, she might have been tempted, but was inspired to tell her right away to officially call the ambulance and she'd come with it.

When she arrived, the patient was in insulin shock and completely unresponsive. Melissa tried to give her some glucose orally but wasn't even able to do that. They put her in the ambulance and headed for the hospital. It has been a lot of years since Melissa started an IV (since that isn't done in the health clinic), but she was able to get it on the first "stick" . . . in a moving ambulance, no less! A short time later, she left the woman feeling much better. The moral of the story here is, even when it's a personal friend calling for a favor, it is far more professional to stay within policy and try to focus on the matter at hand. It also doesn't hurt to be in tune with that all-important "still, small voice". Good listening, Missy!!

It's The Little Things

Linens beg to be out on a clothesline to dry. Years ago, my Mike set in concrete, an umbrella clothesline for me so it wouldn't take up too much room in the back yard, but I could hang my sheets out to dry and I LOVED it. After a number of years, it fell apart. Couldn't have anything to do with the fact that my older grandchildren loved climbing up and hanging from it.

It brings to mind the scripture (from Latter-day Saint revelation in the Doctrine and Covenants), in 3 Nephi 13:19-21, "Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and thieves break through and steal. But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal. For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also." On more than one occasion, I have admitted to myself that I love a particular inanimate object more than I should. I have lived long enough to see that very object rust, tarnish, corrode or as in the case of my clothesline, fall apart.

But I missed my clothesline! One of my fondest memories is of my sister-in-law (Mike's sister), Marsha, who visited us and took a nap in front of an open window with a breeze, on a bed made with freshly dried linens from my clothesline and remarked at what a pleasant experience it was. That made me so happy, not to mention all the money I've saved over the years by not using an electric dryer. So, recently, my brother-in-law, Brad (my sister Kat's hubby) ordered me a replacement clothesline. I am a whole woman again!

Fast forward to last week, when I put my grandchildren down for a nap, my 4 year old Brennan pulled the fresh sheet up to his face and said, "Nana, this smells really good!" It made me smile, I thought of Marsha and thanked him. He said it several more times. Not only a young child, but a male child! Who woulda thought he'd even notice? It's not a big thing, but it's the little things in life that seem to always put a smile in your heart. My Mike used to leave me lots of little notes written on whatever scrap of paper he had close by. Like I found one in his dresser drawer thanking me for the clean, folded clothes he was always grateful to find there. If it was beans and cornbread for supper, he described it as "a meal fit for a king!" I could go on forever because today marks the 9th year since his death (Friday, April 14, 2000) and I miss him. Not because he was a good provider or because he single-handedly remodeled our home or helped me be a better person, but I miss the little things. He made me feel pretty, even when I knew I looked frumpy. He had a forgiving heart and was almost always the first one to say "sorry" and mean it. He hated gossip and kept me in check. He was strong physically but had a gentle touch and what you saw in public, was exactly what he was in private. No hypocrisy.

I especially miss his creativity and humor. Once after a lengthy grocery shopping trip, I came in the front door to find him and my young son Aaron, sprawled out on the floor, like you might see at a crime scene, with a sheet of notebook paper at each one's side. In large letters, the note next to Aaron said, "DIED OF STARVATION", the note next to Mike said, "DIED WHILE TRYING TO SAVE SON". I'll never know how they kept from laughing. The notes were written with a black Sharpie pen. Oh how Mike loved those pens! He had about 40 of them in his desk at work. See, it's the little things that you remember, but they add up to a lot of sweet, sweet memories. Can't wait to be with him again.

Easter

With every passing day that I approach the possibility of meeting my Maker, I grow to love Easter more. Without the hope of a resurrection, life would be impossible to bear. Everybody wants to go to heaven, but nobody wants to die. And yet, not only will the righteous to resurrected, but ALL. With that, I want to post my annual Ukrainian Folk Tale . . . it helps me wrap my mind around the connection between the Savior's sacrifice and decorating eggs, which is a tradition we have always enjoyed so I'm glad it is deemed appropriate:

UKRAINIAN FOLK TALE

"One day a poor peddler went to the marketplace to sell a basket of eggs. He came upon a crowd mocking a man who staggered with a heavy cross on which he was about to be crucified. The peddler ran to his aid, leaving the basket by the roadside. When he returned, he found the eggs transformed into exquisite designs of bright colors. The man was Christ; the peddler, Simon. And the eggs were to become the symbol of rebirth for all mankind."

I hope we spend this day with those we love, rejoicing in the season of hope and blessed reunions. Happy Easter!

Bahama-Mama with Cream, Please

A local man has a portable snow cone stand and makes great "Bahama-Mama" snow cones with cream. They are a favorite of all of Jennifer's kids and when they finally wear us down, we indulge them. He worked alone with a "Help Wanted" sign in the window and was often swamped with customers, so Cheyenne (my eldest granddaughter) applied for the job and was hired. Her first day there, he asked her how she learned he needed help so she explained that her Nana (me) saw the sign in the window and that her aunt (Jen) knows his mother, Shirley (who also had a stand in Angleton, close to where Jen & Jon used to live). He then said, "You knew my mother died, didn't you?" Poor Cheyenne was crushed. Jen had not told her that. She immediately began to apologetically offer her sympathy for his loss when he started to chuckle. "April Fool's!!" he said. What a thing to do to a 16 year old on her first day of a new job with a boss who she did not know. The good news is, Shirley is alive and well ~ and we will never have any trouble remembering the date she started working there.

At the Lake Jackson mall, in a children's arena, Dow Chemical donated some brightly colored, larger-than-life objects made from some kind of soft poly-vinyl, to include a car, a couch, a stack of books with one laying down, forming a ramp, a TV, and a can of paint on its side with a pool of paint on the floor. There is ample sitting room for the adults to supervise while the kids run and climb. It's free so it's one of Ella's and Brennan's special treats when they've been particularly well-behaved. If we go early, they have it to themselves. Other times, there are many little ones to make friends with. Tradition says is imperative that before we go, I have at least one quarter in my coin purse for each of them to use in the gum ball machines afterward . . . 

I suppose it is a side effect of watching cartoons, that they both look so animated at times. On our last trip to the "Dow Furniture", (what we call it), we got out of the car and waited to check for traffic before crossing into the mall. When I gave the go-ahead, Brennan threw both his arms over to the left, much like a cartoon character, let his feet spin in place for a couple seconds and shouted "Fire in the hole!!" before he took off running across the street. A Kodak moment if ever was one.

When El and Bren first wake, they almost always reach for the Wii game. (It usually short lived because soon after the contention begins, it gets shut off). Sometimes they are precious to watch and listen to, maybe sitting on the couch side by side, like a mutual admiration society, complementing each other on their performance. If Ella is beating herself up because she is behind, (is it possible she could really be fishing for complements?) Brennan reminds her all she needs to do is practice. (am I wrong to say the following is a gender thing with him seeking affirmation?) He might ask her if she thinks he's "doing good?" Affirmative. Then after a time, Ella complains that Brennan is bragging. Brennan insists he is a good sport! (he is convinced a good sport is someone who is good at sports). Absolutely fascinating study of the human species. And I get a front row seat nearly every day!!