My parents, Opal Auntionette Terrell Teal and John William Howard Teal, photographed on July 2, 1943
They were married on December 27, 1931. This photograph was taken at the wedding of H.P. and Catherine Terrell. H. P. was Opal's youngest brother.
November is a month when many focus on gratitude. For several years, I have kept a daily gratitude journal to use as part of my morning meditation time. I write down 5 things for which I am thankful. Some are very small things - a bird at my kitchen window, the way morning light casts a lacy shadow on the wall, a phone call. I say thank you, too, for the biggest things in my every day: God's faithfulness and love, for the way he is working in my family's life. I give thanks for food and shelter and good hugs from Joe and our sons. I am grateful for my daughters- in- law, and my granddaughters' laughter.
I was born on November 14, 1940, so today is my birthday. I am grateful for my parents' life and love which began my life. Thank you, God, for Opal and Howard Teal. Thank you, Mother and Daddy, for loving each other and for loving me. I never doubted for a moment that I was cherished. Your faith and love and your hard work to provide good things for me continue to sustain me. You live on in me, in your grandsons, and in your great grandchildren. You are part of everything I ever write down on my gratitude list.
Showing posts with label Birthdays. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Birthdays. Show all posts
Thursday, November 14, 2013
Opal and Howard
Labels:
1940,
2013,
Birthdays,
family,
grandchildren,
granddaughters,
gratitude,
marriage,
mothers,
remembering
Saturday, October 19, 2013
Opal
October 19, 2013
Tonight I am in Tyler, Texas – the city of my birth almost 73
years ago. As I stand looking out on the busy street below my hotel room
window, I think of my mother and father and the small clinic where I was born.
Tomorrow would have been Mother's 100th birthday so we will go to
visit her grave in a small cemetery in Bullard, Texas - a small town south of here where both my maternal
and paternal grandparents lived, and where Mother and Daddy met and were
married, and where their remains lie, marked by a single piece of granite. The cemetery is the burial
place for many others of my relatives, and is a place I visit not out of
obligation or of belief that I am visiting them, but as a sign of respect and a
way of keeping our family story. A way of saying “I remember.”
Today is also a day that I gave birth to our second son, who
was born only minutes before midnight the night before what was then my
mother's 67th birthday. She came shortly after his birth and welcomed her
newest grandchild and splendid birthday gift.
Birthing day and all his boyhood birthdays, these too, remembered.
Labels:
baby,
Birthdays,
grandfather,
grandmothers,
great grandmothers,
remembering
Thursday, March 21, 2013
Tea, Tree, and a Tooth
Maddie celebrated her seventh birthday at our house last Saturday with a tea party, complete with butter cookies and lemon tea served in tiny china tea cups that were mine when I was seven! She knows how to dress up in a pink swirly dress and drink from dainty cups but she spent more time climbing trees and helping in the garden than sipping tea while she was here.
Look at her smile in the top two photos. Then notice what is missing in the next picture...
She pulled her own front tooth to finish a big day of celebrating!
The evening she and her mom and sister left to go home, Maddie released some ladybugs in the garden. The ladybugs are still hanging around on the roses and mint. Maybe they miss her. I do!
Labels:
Birthdays,
family fun,
grandchildren,
granddaughters,
ladybugs,
teacups
Friday, March 8, 2013
Good Times
We spent the night at Maddie and Jordann's house last week, and they modeled their new tops for me. Maddie will celebrate her 7th birthday next week while they are here for Spring Break. We have a list of things we want to do that includes planning a birthday Tea Party, having fashion shows from the dressup box, pressing flowers, doing leaf rubbings, making cookie press cookies, having a picnic in our Secret Place, going ice skating, picking strawberries, planting new herbs in the garden, going to the American Girl Doll Store, and having lots of play time with cousin Skye. I can't wait!
Labels:
American Girl dolls,
Birthdays,
family,
family fun,
grandchildren,
granddaughters
Friday, January 18, 2013
Celebrating Beginnings
Two weeks ago, those in our family who live in this part of Texas gathered to enjoy the hospitality of our son, Sean, his wife, Teion, and their daughters Lauren and Skye. We enjoyed the traditional New Year's Black Eye Peas and Cabbage (with a twist of Indian seasoning) as we welcomed the beginning of another year and thanked God for the blessings we share as a family. Forty-five years ago, Joe and I celebrated the beginning of 1968 in San Antonio as we waited for Sean's birth. The morning of January 13, 1968 was blustery and cold as I struggled into a coat I had made for myself that no longer would meet in the front to button! Our lives changed forever with his birth, and we celebrated it with joy. There is even deeper joy as we celebrate his life after these years shared. Each year, New Year's thoughts and plans will always include our pride and gratitude for him.
Labels:
2013,
beginnings,
Birthdays,
family,
family meals,
remembering,
San Antonio
Saturday, October 20, 2012
Mother's Purse
She never went anywhere without her purse. I have the ones shown here, and most of the contents!
Happy Birthday, Mother.
Mother’s Purse
1.
pastel patterns sparkle on
beaded pouch dangling
from tarnished chain
room only for a hankie
hung from your thin
flapper girl shoulder
2.
fun dressup became working casual
brown beige black grey
bag with zippers
pockets and handles
capacious, strong, heavy holding
keys and address book
wallet and check books and coupons
driver's license, children's photograph
a pleated plastic headwrap
S&H green stamps
Kleenex and comb and metal folding cup
red lipstick worn to slant
nail file and Ritz crackers
always anchored on your arm
2.
Red pocketbook with gold snaps
monogrammed “T”
inside pockets sparsely filled
½ roll Tums
1 cough drop
nail scissors
allergy card no
penicillin or codeine
Dr. business card
sticky note with
my children:
names and phone numbers
$6.00
Thompson Funeral Home card
kept until we needed it
held now in a hand missing
holding yours
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Happy Birthday Joe!
I have enjoyed asking family members each year "What would you like for your birthday dinner?" That has produced Italian meals more than once, Indonesian and Mexican food often. We have had a murder mystery game dinner, a luau, and cookouts.
So I was not surprised recently when Joe said "I have decided what I want to do for my birthday!" "A dinner," he said -with our family. Here. (at home) And I want violin music!" So of course, that is exactly what we had this past weekend. For Joe's 75th birthday he finally did not have "Cheap Cream Cake." He had lasagne and all the trimmings, tiny cupcakes, family, and unspeakably beautiful violin music. Aija Isaacs, who teaches music to several family members, brought her family and violin and gave us an enchanted evening.
My birthday present to Joe is in the photo below, a collage of a great many of the tickets to events, musicals, and theatre we have enjoyed through our nearly 50 years together. I can say without hesitation that his birthday evening of violin music was the best of all by the expression on his face. Many thanks to Aija, to our children for all their help with the evening, and to our friend Tommy Gay Dawson for her lasagne!
Labels:
Birthdays,
family,
family meals,
friends,
memories,
music,
remembering,
violin
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Roses for Your Birthday
Another family birthday comes into view while we are still basking in the glow of last week's celebration for Maddie. One hundred twenty-five years ago on March 15, 1887, a baby girl given the name Mary Clyde Curley was born to a 34 year old French immigrant whose husband died during the pregnancy. This baby was the youngest of 9 living children born to Ernestine, who had buried a child in addition to two husbands, both of whom died before seeing their last child.
Clyde, as the baby was called, was born into adversity and affliction of circumstance. But she was also born into a close family circle as her mother moved back home to relatives. I don't know much about her childhood, but I do know she loved her siblings dearly and spoke of them often. In 1904 she married Hezekiah Peyton Terrell and gave birth to 3 sons and a daughter. Opal, her daughter, was my mother. I became Clyde and Ky's first grandchild.
Clyde Terrell mourned the death of her oldest son, Vinnon, due to a hunting accident on Christmas Day in 1922. She never drove a car, never lived in a house with indoor plumbing until she was nearly 80. She raised her family on a farm in Smith County, Texas, drew water from a well, washed the family laundry in an iron wash pot set over a fire in the yard, and hung the clothes on a line outside to dry after which she ironed them with a flatiron kept hot on the wood stove. She planted morning glories and old maids, kept a garden for vegetables, milked a cow, hung slaughtered meat in a smokehouse, and kept chickens for eggs as well as wringing their necks for Sunday dinner for the preacher. She put up berries and peaches along with peas and green beans in mason jars with sealed lids and baked pies and tea cakes. She lived by "use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without!" Therefore, she sewed her own clothing, replaced buttons, turned collars and cuffs on Papa's shirts, and made patchwork quilts with what was left. She was an adept seamstress, adding embellishments of crochet, tatting, hemstitching, and cutwork to aprons, pillowcases and tea towels.
I remember being folded into her soft, sweet embrace and never felt more loved. I remember drinking cold well water from a dipper, picking berries with her, and stubbing my toe on the red dirt road when we walked to the mailbox. I remember that she welcomed folks to her door and to her table, the same one that my own family gathered around for lunch after church today. However, she always put a clean white tablecloth on top, and when anything was blooming, a jar of flowers on the table. Whether we were eating fried chicken or cornbread, biscuits or berry cobbler, the food was always delicious and warm and her welcome even moreso.
But most of all I remember her deep faith in and love of God. She knew God loved her and trusted him unfalteringly. She was a woman of prayer. She didn't just go to church, it was a part of her and she was a part of the people and their worship and service. Her pastor and his wife were her best friends. I loved going to church with her because she loved it so much. She had tragedies. She did not have what most would call an easy life. But she lived in gratitude and praise for the blessings she had.
Grandma died one month before her 90th birthday in 1977. I still miss her. This morning just as dawn was arriving, I went out into our garden and picked these yellow roses in her honor. She had an old rose bush near the front window of their house at the top of the red dirt road. She often brought bouquets of the blooms in for her table. They were golden yellow.
Clyde, as the baby was called, was born into adversity and affliction of circumstance. But she was also born into a close family circle as her mother moved back home to relatives. I don't know much about her childhood, but I do know she loved her siblings dearly and spoke of them often. In 1904 she married Hezekiah Peyton Terrell and gave birth to 3 sons and a daughter. Opal, her daughter, was my mother. I became Clyde and Ky's first grandchild.
Clyde Terrell mourned the death of her oldest son, Vinnon, due to a hunting accident on Christmas Day in 1922. She never drove a car, never lived in a house with indoor plumbing until she was nearly 80. She raised her family on a farm in Smith County, Texas, drew water from a well, washed the family laundry in an iron wash pot set over a fire in the yard, and hung the clothes on a line outside to dry after which she ironed them with a flatiron kept hot on the wood stove. She planted morning glories and old maids, kept a garden for vegetables, milked a cow, hung slaughtered meat in a smokehouse, and kept chickens for eggs as well as wringing their necks for Sunday dinner for the preacher. She put up berries and peaches along with peas and green beans in mason jars with sealed lids and baked pies and tea cakes. She lived by "use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without!" Therefore, she sewed her own clothing, replaced buttons, turned collars and cuffs on Papa's shirts, and made patchwork quilts with what was left. She was an adept seamstress, adding embellishments of crochet, tatting, hemstitching, and cutwork to aprons, pillowcases and tea towels.
I remember being folded into her soft, sweet embrace and never felt more loved. I remember drinking cold well water from a dipper, picking berries with her, and stubbing my toe on the red dirt road when we walked to the mailbox. I remember that she welcomed folks to her door and to her table, the same one that my own family gathered around for lunch after church today. However, she always put a clean white tablecloth on top, and when anything was blooming, a jar of flowers on the table. Whether we were eating fried chicken or cornbread, biscuits or berry cobbler, the food was always delicious and warm and her welcome even moreso.
But most of all I remember her deep faith in and love of God. She knew God loved her and trusted him unfalteringly. She was a woman of prayer. She didn't just go to church, it was a part of her and she was a part of the people and their worship and service. Her pastor and his wife were her best friends. I loved going to church with her because she loved it so much. She had tragedies. She did not have what most would call an easy life. But she lived in gratitude and praise for the blessings she had.
Grandma died one month before her 90th birthday in 1977. I still miss her. This morning just as dawn was arriving, I went out into our garden and picked these yellow roses in her honor. She had an old rose bush near the front window of their house at the top of the red dirt road. She often brought bouquets of the blooms in for her table. They were golden yellow.
Labels:
antique roses,
aprons,
baking bread,
Birthdays,
cookies,
family,
family meals,
garden,
gratitude,
great grandmothers,
home,
keeping,
memories,
yellow roses
Monday, November 14, 2011
Content
Today is my 71st birthday. I am content. Just like Angel and Bella, I choose my spot in the sunlight and find peace. My circumstances are not all that peaceful, to be sure. We spent the morning going to medical appointments for both of us. Joe has three doctor's appointments this week, and will very soon have another surgery, totaling 14 for both knees. I have made to do lists for this week which will undoubtedly be unfinished by the next. Thanksgiving is next week! The first Sunday in Advent is 3 days later, with Christmas on the way! And although I love all the special ways we celebrate and decorate and participate, these are busy days. My contentment comes from choosing to be in the light of God's love and being given the peace that only comes from Him. November 11, 2011: a very happy birthday.
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