It Is Spring...

Spring weather is here, weeks after the calendar pages claimed the season had come. We're enjoying warmer temperatures now, more rain, and blossoms are bursting with color. But something is missing in my yard here in SC....Lilacs.

From the time I was a little girl, I've loved Lilacs. My grandmother's yard had a couple of large, old bushes that bore the fragrant purple blooms and another that had white blossoms. The perfume of Lilacs on the Spring breeze is very clear in my memory. As I grew up, I listened again and again to one of my Dad's Harry Belafonte albums which contained a song entitled, "Green Grow the Lilacs". After learning it, it became my Springtime theme song.

Near our house in East Hampton, we'd planted a number of my favorite flowering bushes. We'd sit on the deck off the kitchen, drinking our coffee, and remark at the beauty of the blossoms glistening with dew in the morning sun. We'd pick some of them and take them into the house, placing them in a brown crock, filling the room with their pleasant aroma.

On one Spring morning, Mike had an appointment with a customer and I was invited to go along. On the spur of the moment, I decided to cut a bouquet of Lilacs to take to this woman I'd never met. She was thrilled, telling me that the blossoms were her favorites. She put on a kettle of water for tea, and then set about unwrapping the stems. I listened as she explained why she was crushing the ends of the stem with a hammer. "This will prolong their life in the vase ('vahz') because they will absorb the water better", she said with her British accent.

Beulah was born and bred in Sheffield, England. She'd been in the states for many years, working as an actress. She was the woman I knew from the Polaner Allfruit commercial, the one who fainted at the table when the 'hillbilly guest' requested that someone 'please pass the jelly.' As we sat at the table with our English Breakfast Tea, we had a delightful visit. I listened as she told me of her growing up and her family in England. We talked about gardens, she an experienced gardener, I the novice. She was wonderful company, and I wish we'd had an opportunity to visit more in the following years. Things didn't work out that way, however. I believe they moved from East Hampton before we did, and once, when I found a card with a lilac on it, I wanted to send it to her. Every search I've done for her and her husband's address have turned up empty. I don't even know if Beulah is still living.

Again this year, I hear myself singing, "Each time I see Lilacs, my heart breaks in two, because Springtime is here, and it's here without you." Every Spring when the Lilacs bloom, I reflect upon that carefree visit. I hope that, if she's still able to smell the flowers, Beulah remembers that day in her kitchen when we, two strangers, shared our stories, enveloped in the sweet perfume of Lilacs.

In These Moments....

She said, "Life sure is a rollercoaster ride." Indeed it is. When we wake up each morning, we never know what will occur within the next 24 hours of our lives. Yet, we go about the days making our plans, thinking of what we can do in our off hours, what we will do in our working ones.

She is in the midst of a serious health issue and yesterday, she was told that she must have chemotherapy treatments. That was not the news she'd hoped to hear, but it is now something that she must face. She has a positive attitude, and that's a good weapon in the fight, but still, the thought of the journey before her has left her reeling.

It's so easy for us, who stand on the outside watching, to say the encouraging words. It's easy for us to believe, too, that our prayers will help. We are not the ones who bear this burden, as she does, but we want to share the burden because she is our friend, our sister, our comrade in womanhood. We know we would want and need that support, if this was our own issue, rather than hers.

She said that's important for us to take care of ourselves. She is right. We cannot know what lies within the hours, days, months, years that are before us, but we can prepare ourselves by caring for ourselves. If and when a health issue occurs, early detection is a very good indication of a good prognosis. If and when that news is given to us, it is imperative to stand against it, to fight with every ounce of strength within us, and to call upon others for support in the fight. We cannot turn tail and run, but rather look the enemy in the eye, and go, full speed ahead in battle.

She said that it'll all be alright no matter which way it goes. That was her faith speaking. She is right about that too. It will be alright. However, since we cannot see beyond the end of our noses, we must try not to project ourselves into the future. There is so much to do here and now.
There is work to be done, love to share, encouragement to offer. These are ours to give. These are the moments we have in which to give these things. Let us use our moments to think good thoughts, do good works, support one another. Let our moments count for something.

April Showers...

If the old adage about April showers bringing May flowers is true, I'm at the point where I'm believing that our ENTIRE state will be a wonderful world of colorful blossoms. We've had so much rain in the past few weeks, that our lake level has returned to normal after two years of extreme drought.

Mind you, I am not complaining! We did need all this rain to fill our reservoirs and to reduce the thirst the earth has known for too long. My plants are healthier due to the natural water fall, and it certainly means great reduction in our monthly water bill. No, I'm not complaining at all.

We have guests coming this weekend, and after all this rain, our Connecticut friends will be introduced to our red clay mud, which is similar, in my opinion, to walking into a deep area of drying cement. The mud takes your foot and sucks hard, so that when you attempt to pull your foot up, it's comes out with difficulty, and usually without a shoe. Oh, and that brings up the subject of that your shoe will look like for all eternity after a stroll in our mud. It will forever be that lovely shade of rusty red, no matter what the color started out to be. And, you can consider that the pair of shoes will now be repurposed to gardening wear.

Sometimes April brings more than showers, as it has this year. It's brought a barrage of severe thunderstorms. Even at this time of writing, thunder is rumbling and booming all around us. The rain is falling hard over our heads, but the noise is coming across the miles from our southeast. That area is often the victim of our most severe weather. However, on the evening of Good Friday, while my neighbor and I were attending a terrific passion play at a church in a nearby

community, six tornados touched down around the state, one only fifteen or sixteen miles from our house. Fortunately, the twister did little damage as it was only a category one. Since I'm not a huge fan of tornados, the thought of one of any magnitude at all being that close to home is frightening. Often I tell myself, "there hasn't been a tornado here in thirty years, you're quite safe." Now Mother Nature has changed that, just to let me know that she's still around. Ok, lady...I believe you're here. Now, how about going elsewhere to prove yourself? At other times, when we hear of severe storms expected, I am perfectly calm, thinking that there's really not ONE thing I can do to prevent it. Then I plan where we can hide in our house (the 1/2 bath is our best bet) should we get a tornado warning, as was the case on Friday night. At those times, my biggest fear is how to get my mother to safety here, or if there would even be time to do that.

The truth of the matter is that April brings its weather, and no matter what it is she brings: sun, showers, or storms, we are at the mercy of God in it all, as we are in all things every day. There is really nothing we can do but be prepared and pray fervently, while hoping for the best.

Friends...

Friends come in different sizes, shapes, and personalities. They come in different ways, and they leave for a variety of reasons.

I'm one of those people who doesn't like to lose friends, but to maintain friendships for as long as possible, hopefully, a lifetime. It doesn't always happen that way and you can't always prevent a friend from drifting away. Sometimes it's a disconnection due to a move, or life choices, or because of a misunderstanding (or an outright war.) I don't like wars or ugly disagreements, and fortunately haven't lost many friends to such a situation.

Recently I joined one of those on-line network sites, and have reconnected with another member with whom I became friends 50 years ago. Even though we attended different schools until high school, we spent quite a bit of time together on weekends and after school. We always had such fun, giggling and being silly, like most grade school girls do. When we went to high school, we had different friends and activities, and our paths diverged. She became a cheerleader and had other interests. I was not very outgoing and spent much of my time working as a babysitter.

We both married and had children in the same classes in their schools. Even though we lived in the same town, we ran into each other very infrequently. It was always pleasant to see her, but we made no effort to get together socially. Life took each of us on our own routes, until we found each other again at the age of sixty on a social network website. We've really 'clicked' with the tapping of the keyboard through the site pages and private emails. How ironic this seems to me.
After all those years in the same town with very little connection, we have discovered a strong friendship on the internet.

I am both grateful and delighted to have found her again. She says that ours is a 'golden' friendship. Funny she should use that word, as one motto I adhere to is this, "Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver and the other, gold." Both are precious.

Grandchildren

The other day one of my friends told me that she could never feel the same intensity of love for her grandchilden that she felt for her children. I don't know about that, as I have no concept of measuring love.


I remember when I gave birth to my first child, I thought I could never love that hard again. It seemed impossible. When I had my second child, I discovered that I was wrong, for love flooded me when I looked into my tiny son's face. When I had my third child, concerned that there wasn't enough love to go around, my little son asked me if I still loved him. My answer was "Of course I do! Mommy's heart is full of love, but the best thing is, when a new person comes into our lives, it's almost as if God builds another room love on to my heart and He fills that one up with love too. There's lots of love for everybody!" It seemed to relieve his worries.


When my first grandchild arrived, I was so proud, so happy, and so washed over with a new love. I felt the same way with the arrival of each one of them. I have learned that there is no worry about a quenching of love, or of having to divide it up between the children. There's no way to know if my love for my children was/is greater than that for my grandchildren. They have all been special!


I will say that I enjoy the company of my grandchildren, en mass or individually. Sometimes they tire me, but that's because my energy level is far less than it used to be. They don't seem to mind, and I don't mind that they have more energy than any three people my age! They are children, and they need to expend their energies in constructive and child-like ways. They are such fun to watch, and I spend a good deal of time using my smiling muscles.


People have said that they're happy to see 'the last hiney go out the door' after a visit. I admit that I'm usually ready to put my feet up and relax, but I also miss the sound of little voices and the stories and laughter they bring. It takes me a little while to get used to them not being here.
I miss them when they're gone.


Fortunately, four of my own seven grandchildren live within two hours of us, and we see them fairly often, either at our home or theirs. Two others live 900 miles from us, and they come each summer for a month or more. They are enormous fun and very independent little ladies. They're helpful and do their chores without complaint. One is very much a mini-me, loving to craft with me and to talk. The younger one is more active, more of an outside-lover and is her Papa's little helper in the garden. My other grandson is a teenager, has lived in a variety of places since his Dad is in the military, and we have not spent much time together since he left the East Coast. It saddens me because I hardly know what to say to him, not knowing him well at all. I love this young man, but he is not a good correspondent, nor are his parents.


I do not spend time comparing the feelings I have for my children vs my grandchildren and weighing and measuring the love for each. All in all, I believe that love comes exactly when you need it and in exactly the correct measurements.

Springtime

When Spring comes, I always say that it's my favorite season. But, when other seasons make their way across the calendar, I've been known to say the same thing.

I love the weather in Springtime. I don't even mind the rain. The dampness softens the thirsty earth and washes everything that it touches. Everything smells so fresh. When I discover a new green shoot poking through the ground, I find a renewed spirit. There's just something about watching Nature in the warming weather that refreshes me. Seeing the budding trees and the blossoming plants is like watching the world around me awakening for a long, winter's nap.

When I was a teenager, I was living in a small town where nothing really happened until the summer visitors arrived in June. Springtime always signaled the feeling that boredom would soon end. I remember feeling a wanderlust in Spring when I was a bit older. I believe it was just because I was being energized, and didn't know how to channel that into something productive at that time.

Now, in these years of late middle age, when the weather, rather than the calendar, indicates that it's truly Spring, I want to get the shovels, the rakes, the wheelbarrows and get to work in the yard. I don't call it "yardwork." If I did, I'd slack off. I call it 'gardening'. Somehow that term is much more attractive. I like to plant, to 'decorate' the yard with color and shapes and different sizes of plant material. I am a rather haphazard gardener, however. I just plunk things in holes and hope for the best. My garden has been called a 'country' garden by my friend because of the lack of organization in it. I tend to use plants that I like and pray that they will be happy and thrive where I put them. Most of the time it worked in the garden I had in NY. Here in SC, though, I'm having to learn new plants and their habits. The sun is very hot in summer, and we have very little shade. Plants that like full sun are not always lovers of high heat. I'm learning to be more selective when buying plants, choosing hardy varieties and doing my best to see what their best habitat is.

Spring is here now and I'm raring to go. However, my mind is faster than my body is, and it is capable of doing far more than my body can endure in a day. Yesterday's lifting and raking and moving and pre-planting clean-up proved that. My muscles are sore, so today's endeavors will be lighter. That last sentence translates to 'today I'm going to sit on the front porch with my library of gardening magazines and investigate the possibilities'.

Amazing Women

There are women in this world who have done such extraordinary things that they deserve to be recognized. Mother Theresa comes to mind immediately, but there are many, many others who have changed the world in some remarkable way.

But what about the women we come into contact with every day? They may not have turned the world upside down, but chances are good that they've done something worthy of mention, and have never been recognized for it. Think about your own mother. It's no easy task to raise one child, let alone a family of them, and to have those children become decent citizens. When I was growing up, most mothers were stay at home moms, with their husbands as the bread winners and support in child rearing. These days, most mothers are working Moms...and a good many of them are caring for their children with no husband present. That is no small feat.

Mothering, in general, is worth notation. Even with the healthiest of children, how often has a mother given up her night of sleep to tend to a fretful child or one who catches the latest round of virus? Amazingly she rises to the task, as well as rising to the next morning to meet head-on the things her day will bring. What about the mothers who have a child with special needs or lingering illness? Super strength fortifies her, without her giving it a second thought. She's THERE, and will be, 'til the end.

Some of us are single women, some of us are wives, housewives, mothers. Some of us are doctors, nurses, politicians, scientists, ministers or missionaries. Some of us are retired, some of us are students. Some are 'just friends' to others. Whatever we are, whatever we do, there are always places in our lives where we have exhibited a super-woman attitude. We are an amazing species, and we all need to recognize that in each other and ourselves.