family — Page 10

Of Sunshine and Seasides and Hope – A Photo Essay

November 14, 2012 By Diana

See that girl in the pink?

She is the best medicine in our lives just now,

and we had ourselves a good, healthy dose yesterday.

Last week’s visit to my mom was hard,

and the road ahead will continue to be so.

This end-of-life journey will be fraught with

confusion and loss

and I will hate it.

A lot.

I am talking to God about it,

often yelling while I do,

but also coming back round to center,

remembering that no matter how lost

my mother feels to me,

she is never lost to God.

Never.

So. Yesterday was a school holiday for our girl,

and we were given the gift of being with her.

The.Entire.Day.

She sprang through our door about 8:45 a.m.,

dressed from head to toe in HOT pink,

complete with sequins lining the pockets of her fleece jacket.

A new outfit from Target, picked out by herself. . .

and of course, it had to be pink.

And not just pink, but PINK.

We pulled out the Lego bins, filled with

colorful bricks that once belonged to her dad,

and she dug in with gusto.

Almost three hours for this 7-year-old

of creating, disassembling, re-arranging

and fun.

I sat at the table, 10 feet away,

reading blogs and email,

enjoying her easy company and occasional conversation.

Then we piled into the car about noon,

and headed out to the wharf.

It was a stunning day.

Crystal clear, about 60 degrees,

with warm sun on our shoulders.

We went to the local Sea Center,

a small marine museum, featuring exhibits

about the creatures which inhabit these coastal

waters in the Santa Barbara channel.

This is a very bright girl,

eternally curious and actively engaged with

whatever is going on around her.

From tiger sharks to sea stars,

from restless Garibaldi to the breathtaking view

out the back wall,

she explored it all.

In the ‘wet room,’ where buckets are dropped

directly into the ocean through a large hole

in the wharf,

she watched, intrigued,

as several students older than she

put the contents of a bucketload through a

sifter and then a microscope.

Upstairs was a small exhibit of jellyfish,

those brainless creatures of grace and transparency.

You can just make her out to the left of

the observation window,

momentarily entranced.

Against a very dark wall, there was a slide

of moving shapes and colors

and Gracie wanted a picture in front of it.

A little bit too dark, however,

and the flash obliterated the slide on the wall.

In the upstairs gangway, there was a small puppet theater,

which enraptured her.

She had such fun entertaining us with

each and every one.

Each.And.Every.One.

Smile.

One look at this sweet girl’s face

and all the sadness just sort of lifted

away like a cloak,

dropping to the floor around me.

This guy apparently inflicted some pain!

But the dolphin was sweet as could be.

We took her to lunch at Longboard’s about 90 minutes later.

She loves the peanut barrel there,

where you can scoop up as much as you want,

eat as much as you want, and —

wait for it! —

toss all the peanut shells right onto the deck!

How cool is that??

We finished our adventure with a trip to the

ice cream shoppe –

single scoop of Cotton Candy on a sugar cone, please.

It even matched her outfit.

She ate every last bite, too —

without spilling a drop on her new outfit —

until that very last bite, when the cone

broke. . . and there was a bright blue

spot in the middle of all that pink.

As we sat in the sun, enjoying our ice cream,

this catamaran came within about a stone’s throw,

gliding through the sea,

loaded with inquisitive tourists,

eager to view the coastline and enjoy

their afternoon on the water.

I took a deep breath, trying to capture the moment.

A beautiful grandchild – one of eight such

magnificent gifts in our life.

A spectacular day – in a magnificent location.

And we get to live here,

fifteen minutes from this girl and her sister.

The older kids live one to three hours south of here,

so these are the kiddos we see most often

and are graced to care for from time to time.

This, this is gift.

And I am grateful.

And for a while, as the sun shone down,

and the water sparkled,

and the glory-girl grinned her toothless

grin at me while her Poppy watched with love —

for a while, that hurting place in my heart

was healed right over.

Thank you, Gracie, for being you:

God’s gift to all of us.

Signing on with Michelle DeRusha, Jen Ferguson, Laura Boggess and Ann Voskamp. Sad to say good-bye to Seedlings in Stone this week – but trust that Laura Barkat’s fine work will continue to show up in some other sparkling setting – I know it will show up at TSP!

Filed Under: Aging, Beauty, Encouragement, family, God's gifts, personal journey, Photo Essay, Santa Barbara, The Grandkids

Of Rainclouds and Wildfires

November 11, 2012 By Diana

It rained on the way south this week.

Nothing dramatic,

but a welcome sign that the season is finally shifting

into true Fall.

I remember that rain is a good, good thing–

when it comes at the right time,

and in the right amount.

Just a few short days ago, this was our view

for about 75 anxious minutes.

That day was hot–over 90 degrees,

and this fire was close enough to see flames

and to evacuate dozens of homes at the top of our hill.

But a bright-red-bird brought gallons of sea water

up onto the dry hillside,

and a deep-bellied tanker dropped red dust

all down the fire line,

and this time, we were spared the fury of a wildfire.

However, there are all kinds of wildfires in this life.

And we’re in the middle of one just now.

My mother is enduring a kind of fire

for which there is no antidote, short of death.

No red-bird-miracle-water-drops,

no magic dust.

And of all the wildfires our family has survived

in the past half dozen years, this one is,

in some ways, the worst one yet,

at least for me.

Because, you see, my mother knows she is ablaze,

that she is being slowly but surely ravaged,

that all that has been lush and green is now turning to ash.

She knows it.

And that is the hardest part of all.

We will have to make some difficult decisions

in the next few weeks.

And she will be terrified

and she will feel betrayed

and she will wonder why.

So today, I am praying for wisdom.

And grace.

And I am searching for ways to be grateful

and mean it,

for ways to link my lament to praise,

for the strength and will

to relinquish my own fears and grief.

Many weeks ago I submitted an essay to Rachel Held Evans’

Women of Valor series.

I wrote one about my mother,

and how hard it is to see her struggling at this end

of her long, good life.

It will be published as the last in the series on December 8th.

On that day, I will come back here and give you a link

to Rachel’s website,

and I hope you’ll follow it over to read my heart.

I will not write further about her now,

except to say this much:

I love my mother very much,

I am more grateful for her than I can possibly

put into words.

Our relationship is long and complicated,

filled with so much good–

and a few things that have taken therapy to sort out!

But if I were given the privilege of choosing my mother–

I would choose her, in a heartbeat.

In.A.Heartbeat.

Although this particular reflection does not fit any of these themes, I will join this one with Jennifer Lee, Emily Wierenga, Duane Scott, Cheryl Smith and Ann Voskamp.

Filed Under: death, family, God's gifts, memoir, personal journey, The Journey with Mom

Five Minute Friday – ROOTS

November 3, 2012 By Diana

It’s Friday and I’ve taken a day off from all this writing this past month.

So I sat with Lisa-Jo’s prompt all day and we’ll see what comes out.

Join the fun by clicking over to her site and linking your own

five minutes of unscripted, unedited response to the prompt: ROOTS

GO:

They go down deep into the dusty soil

of southern California,

pushing their strong tendrils

between the valleys

San Fernando and San Gabriel,

finally winding their way

up the coast

to Santa Barbara.

My parents were transplants,

one from the south,

the other from the north.

Together, they built a family

out of love and dust

and work and creative energy.

There was music,

Oh! there was music.

There was laughter,

lots of laughter.

Raucous, earthy, rich with

insight and sometimes tinged

with sarcasm.

Sunday was for church.

Every day was for faith.

Friday night was for popcorn

and giant Hershey’s with almonds

and Bubble-Up,

all of us gathered around the TV

or the puzzle table,

or the game board.

There was never a lot of money,

but that did not matter.

With a dad who knew how to fix things,

a mom who could sew anything,

and a desire to enjoy life,

learn,

grow,

celebrate –

life was a party.

Except when it wasn’t.

There were sad pieces.

A younger brother who struggled,

a family-wide battle with anxiety,

some hard history

going back a generation.

But mostly,

there was solidity,

security,

there was home.

Thank you,

thank you,

thank you!

Filed Under: 5 Minute Friday, family

My Brother’s Keeper . . . A Deeper Family

November 1, 2012 By Diana

He was my brother,

yet I did not know how to love him well.

Born two months before my 11th birthday,

he was a beautiful baby, and a fussy one.

Colic, they said. All I know is,

I spent many evenings walking around

our dining room in the dark,

gently singing into his ear while he wailed in pain.

This small person had two hernia surgeries

before he turned two, a harbinger of tough times ahead.

He was a different sort of little boy,

easy-going in some ways,

stiff and overwhelmed in others.

Terrified by sudden noise,

his own voice was often uncomfortably loud.

He was fidgety yet owned observational skills

that would occasionally astound us.

He saw details, lots and lots of details.

But he so often completely missed the big picture.

Sadly, he never did find it . . .

I am writing about one of the saddest pieces

of my own family story today,

my younger brother’s hard, hard life.

And 1000 words cannot contain it.

Will you join me over there for the rest of the story?

Filed Under: A Deeper Family, family, memoir, personal journey

31 Days in which I Am Saved by Beauty – Day 26

October 27, 2012 By Diana

A LIGHT-HEARTED LIMERICK

(read: GOOFY attempt at rhyme)

IN HONOR OF OUR 1ST-BORN GRANDDAUGHTER

There once was a girlie named Gracie,

who had the most beautiful facie.

She woke up with curly curls,

just right for this girly girl,

who loves everything glitzy and lacy.

The kids all sang “to you” at morning prayer,

her uniform left home for free-dress-wear.

She smiled in the morning light,

to mommy’s complete delight,

her grin unveiling the missing pair.

The party continued that night at six,
with grandparents added into the mix.
We dined with great flair,
she looked SO debonair,
while sister performed disappearing tricks.

Her dinner completed, she opted to open

the many fun things for which she’d been hopin’.

Some Lego and crafty things,

some money for fun and flings,

and a pink robe to keep her from mopin’.

Dolly’s new cradle, the evening’s most favorite,

led us to table where we all could savor it –

an ice cream cake, she picked it,

but all of us, we nicked it,

and declared it the best-of-all flavor-its.

Enough with the pathetic rhyming –

this big girl of ours is SEVEN,

and growing into such a kind and thoughtful person,

with a great sense of fun,

lots of firm friends,

and she is loving school, learning and piano lessons.

She is God’s gift to all of us —

And that grin is one of the beauties

of this or any other week!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, GRACE!

We are so very glad you were born.

Filed Under: 31 Day Blogging Challenge, Beauty, birthdays, family

31 Days in which I Am Saved by Beauty – Day 23

October 23, 2012 By Diana

In Celebration of the Color BLUE

I am deeply grateful that God saw fit to fill the universe

with a sparkling array of shades of blue.

Blue is cool and calming,

yet strong and sturdy.

Cerulean, azure, lapis, turquoise, royal.

You can find all of that in sky and water,

at just about any time of day or night.

Water, water everywhere!
And often it shows itself in a beautiful mix
of aqua, teal, indigo, even navy.

Spinning the wheel right to the edge of violet,

flowers come in blues, too.

Some of my favorite people sometimes
come in shades of blue, as well.
Lilly, on her blue blanket,

Gracie in her blue dress,

and before he discovered orange, blue was one of Griffin’s

favorites when he was littler.

Joel, dressed in blue, passes birthday goodness to his big brother, Luke,

and Poppy wears it around lots of days, too.

Eric and Griff share a similar shade and a plateful of goodness.

Mom and I squint into the sun, each wearing a piece of coolness.

And this smile – above a blue (or any other color) shirt? Well, that’s one of the most beautiful sights in my world.

We all wore it for our one-and-only family photo shoot.

Places wear this color very well. The Chagall windows at St. Stephen’s church in Germany are among the most spectacular uses of it I’ve seen anywhere.

And we live with a lot of blue around us.

Maybe that’s why we’re such cool, calm, friendly people. (Not.)

And this small winged creature is one of my very favorite
garden guests. Maybe that’s because she, too, is blue?

We try to capture it, we human artists.

And some of us are genius at it. Genius.

But all the beauty we create,

grand and glorious as some of it is,

well — it pales in comparison

to the Master Artist and the splendiferous palette

of creation, don’t you think?

Filed Under: 31 Day Blogging Challenge, Beauty, family, God's gifts, Photo Essay

31 Days in which I Am Saved by Beauty – Day 17

October 18, 2012 By Diana

Since Lilly started pre-school in September,

her grandfather has been volunteering

every week,

on Wednesdays —

the very day we cared for her

for over two years.

He spends about four hours —

helping with stories,

snacks,

lunches,

naps.

He loves it.

I have never known anyone who has such

natural rapport with small children.

Every one of our grandchildren

adores him,

and with good reason.

Today was a field trip –

and I got to go, too.

“The wheels on the bus

go round and round…”

Thirty pre-schoolers,

about a dozen adults,

all of us singing,

doing the hand motions,

anticipating a fun couple of hours.

The day was warm,

HOT, to be exact,

and crystal clear,

as we unloaded

ourselves from the

big yellow school bus.

The Pumpkin Patch

is only a few miles

from the school

and is small and compact.

Thank goodness!!

Have you ever tried

to corral 30 small persons

around a large open field?

In we marched,

and Lilly found

Poppy’s hand just as

soon as she could.

Everyone filed into the shade

for a presentation

about pumpkins, gourds,

and Indian corn.

These two little girls – our Lilly on the left,

and Carolyn, on the right,

were born on the same day,

just hours apart.

And the director of the pre-school

was in the waiting room with

all the grandparents.

Each of these cuties

has an older sibling

who was a student at the school

at the time of their birth.

I have no memory of ever

seeing a school administrator

at any of my kids’ births!

After learning about fall veggies,

and enjoying a much-needed cup

of cold water and a snack,

the kids were let loose to pick a pumpkin.

Lilly chose a small, compact one

and her teacher happily wrote her

name on it and put it in the class wagon.

Trying to get a class photo was interesting.

And fun.

The two girls in the center of the front row,

that’s our girl and her BFF, Alice.

They truly love each other,

hugging when they meet,

choosing to sit together often,

sharing long connections

through their parents and

older sisters –

all of whom are friends.

For the purposes of this 31-day challenge,

I could wax eloquent

about how much beauty this

small person has brought into our lives.

And before this month is over,

I most likely will do so.

But tonight?

Tonight I want to celebrate the

beauties of friendship,

the joys of shared history,

the ties that connect

people over time

and life experience.

We are designed for community,

and it shows up very early.

I was delighted to see these lovely threads

winding between two small girls,

not yet three years old.

One of the most beautiful things

I’ve seen all day, in fact.

Filed Under: 31 Day Blogging Challenge, Beauty, family, God's gifts, Santa Barbara

31 Days in which I Am Saved by Beauty – Day 13

October 14, 2012 By Diana

When I spend time in my daughters’ homes,

I am reminded of many things.

First and foremost,

of how very well they mother their sons.

And secondly,

how they have taken some of my

patterns and traditions and

greatly improved upon them.

I was – once upon a time – a great

seasonal decorator.

I saved art work for years and put

up my children’s creations

for every holiday.

I shopped the sales at Michael’s

and gathered a lot of

decorative detritus

that we used for a long time.

Joy is doing the same thing.

And she is doing it so much better.

Her sons love this tradition

and beg her to pull out the bins

and put up the cute stuff.

Take a little look.

The manzanita branch

is used with a different set

of hanging ornaments for Halloween,

Thanksgiving, Christmas,

Valentine’s Day,

St. Patrick’s Day,

Easter.

And every one of her Mission style door frames

has a decorative object or arrangement

that fits the season.

These photos only capture a little of the fun,

and in about 3 weeks,

they’ll be switched out for

Thanksgiving decor.

This is the beautiful family room they added

about 10 years ago.

A lot of good memories have been made here.

Their home is always open for

friends,

family,

church youth groups,

neighbors.

They are superb hosts,

unfazed by groups sized anywhere

from 3 to 50.

I stand in awe.

And pictured below is our home-away-from-home

whenever we come down to see my mom,

who lives about 30 minutes from them.

This is where Dick stayed from Tuesday through Thursday

every week for ten years while he worked

in southern California before he retired in 2010.

Here is one of the really great things about retirement:

our schedule is flexible.

Packed and ready to return home last night,

we discovered that two of our grandsons

would be playing basketball games

as part of the YMCA fall season

this morning.

So, we unpacked,

enjoyed dinner & some good conversation,

and woke up just in time

to go to Griffin’s game at 9:00 a.m.

Griff plays with the 5-6 year old team –

half court, no score,

frequent substitutes.

He is one of the older members

of his 4-person team

and for the first time in his life,

one of the tallest.

He is a dedicated b-ball player and

it shows.

Good game, Griffin!

This is his team.

Holding his team treats after the game.

Colby is 11 and one of the younger and
smaller members of his 11-12-year-old team,
but he is scrappy and quick
and played well today.

Big brother Wesley and little brother Griff on the sidelines,

otherwise occupied.

Colby had a bigger team, they played the full court,
they kept score.
And they trounced the opposition.

Colby played most of three quarters,
and in between
sat on the sidelines
sucking down water.

And a picture of Colby with his after-game snacks,
but apparently,
an 11-year-old is a little too sophisticated to smile.

The trip home was spectacularly clear after that volatile
thunderstorm blew threw the area on Thursday.
These are the foothills in Ventura,

and a quick shot of a small slice of Halloween on the highway,

This is our favorite 20 acres on the side of the road north,
where we’ve watched strawberries,
lettuce,
tomatoes,
beans,
and now berries-under-plastic
thrive for sixteen years now.

And then, around the next bend, we begin to see the coast,
and we know we’re almost home.

Every single time I make this trip,
I am grateful
to live where I do.
Close proximity to the ocean
is nourishing to me in ways
I cannot put into words
and I am still amazed
that God brought us to this place.

I have loved every place we have lived –

six months in a 1-bedroom apartment

in Santa Monica as a newly-wed college student;

six weeks in a single room at a

Christian camping center

right after graduation;

a concrete block 3-bedroom house

on the savannah of central Africa

for two years;

an apartment in West Los Angeles

and a rented house in Eagle Rock

when we returned to California;

three homes in Altadena,

each with memories and beauties

all their own.

But this one?

This ranch house we’ve pushed and pulled

and added onto and made to fit us,

this space that God led us to

just as we were ready to

purchase another,

far less desirable place –

this place is a gift of grace

and beauty

that God has used

to save me day, by day, by day.

Filed Under: 31 Day Blogging Challenge, family, God's gifts, Home, photography, Travel

31 Days in which I Am Saved by Beauty – Day 12

October 13, 2012 By Diana

This weekend, we are traveling,

heading south to be with family,

in parts and pieces,

for just a day or so.

And as we leave,

the first storm of the season

is building in drama

and beauty.

As we round the curve on the 118,

heading into the hills and canyons

that separate the valleys

San Fernando and San Gabriel,

we can see what we’re heading into.

We have splashes and splitches

on the windshield as we drive

the two hours,

listening to a play-off game on the car radio.

But after we are safely ensconced in our

daughter’s small, cozy guesthouse,

the clouds burst their seams,

pouring water,

hail and something new to our ears,

graupel,

all around us,

looking for all the world like

small pellets of styrofoam packing material.

Time with mom is good.

My brother has made the long trek

from northern CA

and she is delighted to

have her two remaining

children (and her daughter’s husband)

in the same space,

making her laugh til her sides hurt –

even when she can’t quite understand

everything that is being said.

I take a walk in the late afternoon,

around my daughter’s beautiful, old

neighborhood,

filled with Victorian cottages,

bungalows from the turn of the

twentieth century,

and a bounteous buffet

of doors and porches.

This old codger was somehow

both delightfully out of place
and quite comfy
in this collection of
oldies, but goodies.

The street just to the west of our children
is filled with magnificent
old jewels like this shingled glory,

mixed nicely with smaller, more modest
abodes.

This lovely avenue positively defines
the term ‘tree-lined street,’
and is always deliciously inviting.

Turning the bend below the elementary school,
brings a bright row of small charmers,

and the delightful surprise of a healthy,
blooming plumeria plant,
six feet tall and thriving in this
decidedly non-tropical environment.

And this is a garage.
Oh, my.

This small gem, with its bright red door,
stands diagonally across the corner
on the street where we are staying.
When I see it,
it always seems to call out,
‘welcome!’

One more small Victorian on the way up the hill,

and then I’m back where I began,
the charming Sears & Roebuck bungalow,
which our children have tastefully and carefully
enlarged and improved,
and where we are always received
by grace-filled, loving hearts.

I think this front door is my very favorite of all.

The beauty found in
thunder storms,
architecture,
history,
neighborhoods,
city streets
and warm welcome
is saving me
right here, right now.
And I am thankful.

Much longer than usual for the weekend quiet hosted by my friends Sandy and Deidra, but this is what I’ve got for now. I hope to do a simpler one for Sat/Sun, which means I will not quite make all 31 of the 31-day challenge.

Filed Under: 31 Day Blogging Challenge, Beauty, family, God's gifts, Home, photography, Quiet for the Weekend

31 Days in which I am Saved by Beauty – Day 9

October 10, 2012 By Diana

I have already written about this evening walking I do.

This circle walking.

And circle praying.

Tonight I was a little distracted.

This is the season for the acorn drop,

and there are hundreds of them,

all over the paving stones of our driveway.

Can you see them in this picture?

The one below these words?

Earlier this fall, my grandgirl Gracie and I picked up a few,
and put them in a bowl on my china cabinet.
We don’t usually see their small caps,
just the cylindrical bodies.
But this year, early in the dropping season,
we found a hundred or so that had their hats.

My husband believes that
the number of acorns on the driveway
is a good predictor of how rainy it will be during
the winter months here on the coast of California.
So far, he’s been right.

I think maybe we’re in for it this year.

They’re in every crevice,
cracking underfoot as I turn circles,
round and round.
And when our cars drive over them,
they break open,
revealing the nutmeat inside.
Tonight,
a small brown bird hopped out
from his hiding place under the
oleanders,
jumping into the space I had just left.
He began busily picking at the broken pieces.
When I’d get within about 15 feet of him,
he’d hop away into the bushes again.
He did this on almost all of my 36 circles this night.

I like the crackling sound these acorns make as I walk.
That noise, these small objects – they remind me
that it is now fall,
even as the changing angle of the light
helps me remember that the seasons
are shifting.
We don’t have a lot of other clues in
central California,
just these subtleties, these small things.
To me, they are beautiful
and evocative,
reminding me of how things
stay the same,
even as they are changing.

If I have planned well,
and begun my walking early enough,
I can finish my time outdoors
by sitting in this swing,
which hangs across the yard.
It’s a beautiful spot,
sheltered under the oaks,
and the swing is strung up by sturdy chains,
wrapped around a large, twisting branch.

If I have planned well,
I try to spend between ten and twenty minutes
in this swing,
centering,
focusing quietly on one or two words
from scripture.
I breathe carefully,
purposefully,
with awareness, trying to stay
in rhythm with both the words
and with the swing.
It always feels to me like I am
held.
Secure, cradled.

Even when the words are these:
“Mercy, Lord.”
Which is what came to me tonight,
for a long list of reasons.

I choose to believe that God hears and answers.
And even when I don’t particularly like
the answers,
there is still mercy to be found.
Selah.