Things Remembered

We have, with a good deal of help from others, cleared out, cleaned out, and spit-shined our home so that it is ready to be listed for sale next week.  There are a few things we need to finish cleaning - the garage shelves, refrigerator, the brick on the front porch.  We still need to clear some of the plants in back that are in pots which we will take with us to help start a new garden. But the walls are bare of our many family pictures, drawers have been emptied and cleaned, counters polished - all to make our house welcoming and at the same time, a clean slate for others to envision ways in which they can make it their home. My 2 oldest granddaughters came today to help for awhile and were taken aback at the change.

When I was sorting out saved stuff in my closet, I came across several items loosely wrapped in a piece of tissue paper, itself saved from a long ago gift. I held the bits and pieces in my hand and realized they made a collage, a portrayal of my emotions and mixed feelings about leaving this home and this part of my life. There were pieces of a lovely painted glass globe a friend gave us many years ago that was a tiny painting of the lovely old East Texas Victorian house we bought and moved to for a far too short time. During the months we were there, I researched and wrote the history of the place, submitted it to the historical society, and received a State historical marker - not for me, for the house. In a later time, the pretty piece was knocked from its stand, leaving only shattered pieces which I kept.

There were some pieces of filigree silver jewelry from our time in Indonesia, all tarnished and worn. There was a tiny safety pin with beads strung on it, one of the many "friendship pins" that our youngest son and his friend exchanged in first grade, when we lived in yet another place.  And there was a piece of foil where that same son had written "To Mom, Love Ben."   I do not remember what it was attached to, but I kept the crumpled paper with his writing during his college days.  All these were folded in the wrinkled tissue printed with the name of shop where it was used to wrap a purchase:  Things Remembered.  I decided I would keep my little packet but I really do not need these reminders.  They are indeed, "Things Remembered."

Magnolias

When the Magnolias bloom again each year, I reach to pull a creamy cup down and inhale its sweetness. I may cut a few to bring inside and float in bowls, but they brown and wither soon.  They show off best in their  boughs of waxy green leaves.  They remind me of the trees that lined the edge of my elementary school yard, which happened to be adjacent to my own yard.  We often played in the shade of the trees, loving the spectacle of their blooms.  When the petals dropped, leaving cones with scarlet seeds, we played with those, creating, imagining, giggling.

In 1963, a bank of magnolia leaves was the only floral decoration at our December wedding. Many years and many places later, I stood by a Magnolia tree in the gardens of a sultan's palace in Bogor, Indonesia, and wondered if its twisted trunk and sprawling branches flowered.  Now, once again, my yard fills with the fragrance of Magnolias in Spring.  They seem to grow sweeter each year.

Come Into My Christmas House

As this year comes to an end, I am thinking of joys we have shared in our journey as a family, just as the blog subtitle suggests. This year has included many changes as Joe had surgery after surgery and has bravely met challenges of severe pain and limited mobility.  Our outings have been mostly to medical appointments, and gatherings have been different. The joys of this journey are nonetheless vividly apparent.  The love and caring concern of our sons, daughters in law, and granddaughters is lavish and intense.  They have helped with household chores from changing lightbulbs to moving furniture.  Meals have been joint ventures.  Phone calls "just checking on us" are frequent.  Little hands have helped set the table and take trays to Papa. Michala gave Joe his medicine.  Teion worked on the broken dishwasher.   Skye read The Best Christmas Pageant Ever to Maddie and Jordann.  Kristen played dominoes with Maddie.  Jeremy played the Indonesian shell game with Lauren.  Ben gave Jordann rides on his shoulders. Sean started a fire outside to roast marshmallows.  It is not that these things never happened before, it is that they are intensified now, and deeply appreciated.  We decorated together, cooked together, prayed together, and even if our meals were not always around Grandma Terrell's table, they were family celebrations and joyful occasions.  So, come into my Christmas House, and share the joy of our journey as a family. Winter is upon us, but Spring is on the way.  I am grateful.    "With" is a powerful and joyful thing.

Remembering Indonesia

I was recently asked to talk about the country of Indonesia to some groups of children at my granddaughter's school.  I guess a picture really is worth a thousand words, because it would take me more than a thousand to tell the stories behind the objects shown here.  After almost 20 years, I am surprised that the time we spent in Jakarta, Indonesia came to mind so vividly as I showed them dolls and puppets, played gamelan music, passed around rupiah, shared photos and books and spread out batik.  To finish, we shared a snack of pisang, nanas, and krupuk (bananas, pineapple, and shrimp crackers).  Since we had family birthdays to celebrate the next weekend, our youngest son, Ben, grilled sate and and made nasi goreng for us to eat while we watched old videos of Jakarta and Bali.  It was a time long ago and far away, but we remember.