Lift Up Your Heads!

I have been captivated with studying “gates” since my return from Central America last month. I’ve seen locks before; I’ve been on a ship that cruised the St. Lawrence Seaway and we had to go through locks on our way to the Atlantic ocean. But observing this engineering feat at the Panama Canal made a bigger impression on me than I was even aware of at the time. The Panama Canal is 50 miles long, extending from the Pacific Ocean to the Caribbean Sea.

I visited the MiraFlores Locks and the vision of those giant gates has been on my mind continually. I’m sure it’s because of prayer. To clarify, I was praying for provision for a couple that is planting a church in Miami and I immediately pictured the gates at the Panama Canal opening with an amazing outpouring of water. We’re talking ginormous gates and millions of gallons of water. This picture captures a photo of the water just “leaking’ in.Lift up your heads, O you gates;
Lift them up, you ancient doors,
that the King of glory may come in.
Who is he, this King of glory?
The Lord Almighty – he is the King of glory.
Psalm 24: 9,10The first photo and this last photo were taken at a point about midway through the canal. There's only a 45 minute segment every day when ships are going both directions as they change the traffic flow each day. I happened to see it.

Summertime - when the living was easy...

The sand dunes on Okaloosa island were once as high as a 4-story building. Well, at least they seemed that way from a child’s perspective.

A steady parade of hurricanes and tropical storms through the years have etched the terrain and altered the shoreline in immeasurable ways. The dunes that we romped on and climbed while pretending we were on a trek in the Sahara are now off-limits to human feet in an effort to preserve the only buffer the roads have from waves and tidal encroachment. Such is life.

The Bosom Bottom Buddy Club was an exclusive club with what we considered to be a slightly scandalous name. My sister and I laughingly re-enacted our membership ritual recently at my mom’s birthday party. This snapshot captured the Bosom Bottom Buddy Club about 44 summers ago. We’re planning a reunion at the beach in the spring. I think time has etched us in immeasurable ways too. Such is life.

They say growing older is unavoidable, growing up is optional. I've always had the goal to remain child-like in my sense of wonder and curiousity (note: this is distinctly different from being childish.) I've decided now that I have a grandchild to experience life with, the clock starts to reverse. You know, the cycle of life!
Care to guess which smile belongs to the mini-me?

Sunshine over Lugubriousness

Who among us doesn't love words? I have a collection of words that I think are cool and want to use more often. Lugubrious seemed appropriate for a Monday when I often attempt to counteract sluggishness with humor.

Lugubrious (adj) [lu-'gu-bri-ês] Mournful, gloomy, depressive, doleful.

Of course, you know my recipe for just about anything includes laughter. I've seen this "man message" before, but it still made me laugh when I came across this recently.

If you're dragging, it's time for a walk on sunshine. This is probably my favorite 80's tune:

There’s a Longing in My Heart

The pull of the tides. The migration of birds. My pull to be with Rosebud. They’re all on the same par.

Remember the fever of young love that fosters irrational behavior in the effort to spend endless hours together? When you just can’t get enough of that person and others worry that you’re being obsessive?

Those who have preceded me into the grandparent club had told me this would be a marvelous experience. I knew that would be true, but no one mentioned the fever. Who can explain this all-consuming desire to hold this heaven-sent bundle close to my heart and gently rock her as I whisper into her ear of all the wonderful things God has in store for her?

I left there last week and it will only be 2 more weeks until we make the 7 hour drive again and that’s just not working for me. My husband asked, “what do you want to do, move down there?” As a matter of fact I do! My feelings defy reason and logic, but that’s really nothing new.

I’ve wondered if there’s some primitive pull that‘s part of the tradition of verbally transmitting the knowledge of motherhood to the next generation. Mother to daughter, generation after generation. But I have a friend that has sons and I suspect she feels this way too, so that can’t be it.

We’ve hooked up Skype and a webcam on our computers and I do get to see her “live" everyday and talk to her. Uncommon Blonde says I can be a digital Nana when I’m not there and sing her to sleep. That’s cool, but doesn’t allow me to feel her soft baby skin and smell her fresh, sweet scent. Cupcake is still there helping and she’s as smitten as I am. There’s a longing in my heart…

Squall Line

You haven’t seen the squall line in a long time. Maybe it’s the literal squall we had yesterday afternoon that prompted me to post this. We had almost 5 inches of rain in 5 hours, shingles off the roof and our yard turned into a pond. But water, water everywhere is a good thing. More expected today.

As a result of an interesting phone call yesterday, I‘ve been pondering the value of integrity. I truly feel sorry for those people who don’t get dressed with integrity. They look as foolish as people who go to work half-naked. And smell worse than those who don’t put on deodorant.

I got a letter a few weeks ago from the National Association of Professional Women. It informed me that I had been approved for membership in this association which profiles the country’s most accomplished professional women. Thank you, I’m flattered. It requested that I return the application and I noted the line “there is no fee to be included.”

A woman called yesterday to do a “brief interview and confirm my information.” Long story short, when she finished her scripted spiel, she wanted my credit card number. To charge me no less than $589 for inclusion. Yeah, right. This is such a big honor I’m totally not flattered, but insulted.

Moral of this story: If you have to pay someone to “honor” you, it’s not worth much. I’m richer for the reminder that true leadership is characterized by quality actions and integrity of intent.

On the lighter side, I’m reminded that you shouldn’t try to teach a pig to sing. It will frustrate you and annoy the pig. One well-known retailer says “We don’t train our people to be nice. We hire nice people.” Brilliant!

Finishing Well

Today is my Dad’s birthday. As I reflected on that this morning, I began to think on our last summer together. As he realized he was losing his 5 year battle with cancer, He squeezed every drop of life he could from his remaining days. We had so much fun it makes me grin.

In the summer of 1990, I earned an expense-paid trip to Vienna, Austria as a reward for exceptional sales performance with the company I was with. (I’ve mentioned I love to travel and every time they offered a trip, I made sure to be there.) Dad was a musician of the highest degree; he could play any and every instrument, as he had taught orchestra and band for many years. His two favorite genres were big band and classical. Vienna was his dream trip. Cupcake was just 6 weeks old and Dad was in pain and using a cain, but off we went to Europe. I remember standing in elevators and riding in taxis with the strains of classical music accompanying our adventures. To my delight, without fail he could name composer and movement (Okay, I have to say it since I know you are: "What Was I Wearing?!")

I had so much fun pulling out photos this morning with Dad’s handwritten notes on the back. We danced together at a grand ball at the Hofburg palace. How’s that for finishing well?

Live well, my friend. Make every moment count.

Love you to the Moon and Back Again

I’ve just returned home from helping Uncommon Blonde with newborn Rosebud. Sleep deficiency is an interesting phenomenon… it’s a good reminder for me that all new moms need help. How could I have forgotten that one little 7 pound bundle can keep 3 adults hopping and sleepless?

My grandmother name has been the subject of much discussion over the last few months. I believe it will be Nana, as in rhymes with Sauna. (Not Nana that rhymes with Banana… that name has been claimed.) Of course, she may come up with her very own name but we have to start somewhere. Builderman will be Papa. Nana and Papa love this little girl so much our hearts are overflowing.

We celebrated my Mom’s 80th birthday on Monday with a small dinner party at Ruth’s Chris Steakhouse. If you’ve never eaten there, it’s a wonderful treat on a special occasion. They serve the best steak I’ve ever had, not to mention the spinach au gratin, sweet potato casserole, chop salad... well, everything they serve is exceptional.

It was a special night with tributes from friends and family that made us laugh and made us cry. (Photos are forthcoming) Some of you might remember we had originally planned a big party. My mother got wind of our plans and firmly cancelled them. She insisted that we’d all be busy with the birth of her first great-grandchild (who was due on the 21st but arrived the 11th) and she didn’t want a birthday party. Mom has a lot of wisdom and my boast is that I’m smart enough to listen to her. It would have been very stressful to be staging a wing-ding of a party in the midst of all that’s involved in caring for a newborn.

I’m looking forward to catching up on everything… including visiting my blog friends.
I have photos of our Rosebud everywhere…