Lunch with Gwen

I may have mentioned before that Grandmother Holden never learned to drive. She worked a full time job at what we referred to as the knitting mill-a.k.a. Genesco-in Florence, a long way from Center Hill, especially for someone who didn't drive. She got up early in the mornings and walked downhill to the edge of the driveway to catch a bus to work. I don't think she ever considered driving as something she needed to know how to do.

Grandmother did not consider her inability to drive a handicap at all and for someone who didn't drive, she sure got around. She always went to work, she never missed church, and her Saturday trips to town were almost as sacred to her as going to church. She relied on Momma and Aunt Betty for transportation to places like Kent's Dollar Store, TG&Y, or Kmart.

 A trip to town usually meant lunch out and that was my favorite part of the Saturday outings. My love for shopping was topped only by my love for food. It was a real treat to have a burger and fries instead of the usual beans, potatoes, garden grown vegetables, and cornbread. It was during one of these outings that we decided to have lunch at McDonald's.

Aunt Betty was the chauffeur that sunny Saturday, but I had somehow convinced Grandmother to take me with them even though Momma stayed at home. Grandmother was a reasonable woman and understood the value of my opinions as she shopped for whatever she happened to need, so she was happy to invite me to join her. Yes, that is exactly how it happened. There were no tears, screaming and begging.

We pulled into McDonald's and immediately the other grandkids and I began discussing what we would order. Hamburger or cheeseburger, fries of course, and an icy cold Coca-Cola.  We had all made our decision, when a tiny voice from the backseat declared, "I'm not very hungry today. I'll just have a cheeseburger, fries, apple pie, milkshake and a coke". A rather large order coming from someone who couldn't even reach the counter at McDonald's. That was a proud moment for me, as her older cousin, because I knew she had been watching and learning the ropes from the very best, ME! It was a valiant but amateur attempt on her part to get some of everything on the then-skimpy McDonald's menu, but unfortunately it didn't work for her. Hahaha, she should have bypassed her momma and went straight to Grandmother.

Now, you may be wondering just where this is going or if there is anything of value to be gained from reading this post. My response would be: only if you haven't yet realised the value of female persuasion. If you can't drive and don't want to....get someone to drive you where you want to go. If you want to go to town with grandmother, tears work wonders. And finally, if you are the youngest cousin in the car and you want that apple pie and milkshake, take notes from the older and wiser cousin, who is happily chowing down on a burger and looking forward to a shopping trip when she could have been sitting at home.

Try My Shoes

One of the easiest things in the world to do is to talk about what other people do, or have done wrong in their lives. We all do it, some of us do it more often and get more enjoyment from it. I consider myself a little bit of an expert on this subject, since I've been on both sides of the fence, so to speak. I've been quick to judge and I've been judged. It's a tiresome job speculating about, editing, and spreading gossip. The only thing worse than spreading gossip, is being the subject of the latest "opinion", "I love her but.....", "I can't believe he", "Did you hear about"..."She said that he said"... "She's my best friend but"....."You mean you didn't know"......"Everybody knows"...."She should be ashamed". 


 A few years ago I called my Uncle Bobby to ask his advice about a question I had regarding marriage and divorce. My husband and I had both led sinful lives and we were both divorced prior to our marriage. We made the decision to be restored to the church that both of us had grown up in. The church welcomed us, but we weren't asked to, or allowed to participate in church matters (other than attending) because of our prior divorces. I called my Uncle Bobby hoping for some scriptures to help me understand the status of my salvation. He gave me the scriptures to help me understand that both my husband's divorce and my divorce were scriptural. I mentioned to him that I was concerned about what the elders thought about our marriage and he offered these words to me, "They can't say what they would do, because they've never walked in your shoes".


It's so easy to look at people and think the worst, especially if someone is grumpy or hateful. We can't all be cheerful and happy all the time. If I'm caught in the aftermath of a migraine or going through some crisis with my family, I could be a nominee for "grouch of the year". If I think someone has mistreated one of my kids, we can up that nomination to "psycho mom of the year" , but that's a different story. The point I'm trying to make is, we should all zip our lips unless we've been walking around in each other's shoes. Thank's Uncle Bobby, for the simple solution to a massive problem.

"goodbye.....HELLLOOOO"

It's been a difficult month filled with goodbyes. Goodbyes to friends, one passed away suddenly and one who needed to be let go. Goodbye to a Thanksgiving traditions and goodbye to a big Christmas tree. Changes have come my way and along with it the painful realization that I cannot control how other people think and act. Gasp!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes, I did think I had some amount of control over the people in my life.

It's been hard to accept that a long time friendship has ended, even though I think I knew it would eventually happen. I made friends with a person who was so stinking much fun to be around and talk to. We spent hours on the phone giggling like school girls and I needed that kind of outlet. I was working long hours, had just went through a difficult time with some family members and I needed someone in my life to laugh with, confide in and just be plain silly with. Unfortunately, we don't share the same values and she has a lifestyle so different from mine that to continue our friendship was impossible. I still care for her and wish her the very best, but good bye is the best thing for me and my family.

Thanksgiving table was missing some of the most important people in my life. I was heartbroken but I understand as my children's families grow and change, they are going to want to do their own thing. I'm just going to have to learn to accept that what's best for me, may not be what's best for everyone else. So fly away my little turkeys (thought turkeys would be appropriate instead of birds....you know Thanksgiving and all that) and enjoy your own lives. I don't want to hold anyone back or cause anyone to feel bad. Goodbye, Thanksgiving tradition, I may not like it but I've disliked other things and survived. I expect to recover from this terrible turkey day and go on to celebrate many more but without expectations from anyone.

Ahhh, next the Christmas tree.....yes, it was so hard not fill half my tiny living room with a Christmas tree, as I have in years past. I've finally come to terms with the fact that bigger is not better if you can't walk in the room without bumping into the tree or a piece of furniture, besides I'm growing quite fond of the 6 foot pencil tree. I am .....I REALLY AM! On the upside my husband loves it. So goodbye big Christmas tree.....I think we may meet again one merry Christmas season.

And most important of all, goodbye Gina. May you find the peace and happiness you deserve, in a house filled with joy, with a father who loves us all.

Goodbyes are not always easy but they are a necessary part of life. Get over it, get on with it! Don't close the book, begin a new chapter with a loud, welcoming, "HELLLLOOOO".

Christmas Time's A Coming

Christmas times a coming! I would give anything for one more Christmas with grandmother. Oh, how I loved that woman. There are times when I close my eyes as tight as I possibly can and try very hard to remember those happy times, when we would all gather at grandmother and granddaddy's for that magical day. The table and counter tops running over with food, presents were piled high under grandmother's tree, cousins running in all directions bragging about their big scores from Santa earlier that morning.  Everything needed for a happy holiday could be found at grandmothers.

It was during one of those Christmas seasons, that grandmother decided she needed a fireplace to create a more festive environment. Grandmother was  strong capable woman but, I doubt that she could have constructed a fireplace in the middle of the living room and I'm pretty sure granddaddy was quite happy with the furnace that provided heat for their home. That was the year we were all introduced to fireplace in a box, constructed of cardboard and easy to assemble. The brick colored cardboard pieces came together to form the perfect fireplace for those not blessed with the real thing. An added bonus was the box it came in, which created an imaginary car just the right size for grandmother and my cousin, Phillip, who was the baby of the family. We all laughed as she sat in the middle of the living room floor in a box, with a baby in her lap, pretending to drive away. She was not at all upset that the box had upstaged her "new" fireplace, in fact she was delighted with the attention and laughter she created with her cardboard car.

I can see now that all grandmother really wanted was for her family to be happy and she was blessed with the gift of knowing how to make that happen. Our entire family was blessed to have had her, even if she was only ours for a short time. Over the years the family has grown bigger and apart, we don't celebrate Christmas as a family but we still love each other, respect each other and wish each other the very best, not just during the holidays but year round. Grandmother gave us a beautiful foundation and each of us has either built our own cardboard fireplace for our families to gather around or a sturdy cardboard box card to race around the living room. Either way, I think grandmother is looking down from Heaven with a smile on her face and love in her heart.

Happy holidays to the entire Holden clan! Aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces and nephews....you are all gathered round the Christmas tree in my heart!

Granddaddy's and Paw paw's

We didn't go to the beach or the mountains for summer vacation when I was growing up. Come to think of it, I don't think I spent the night in a hotel before I got married and then it was a one night stay at Joe Wheeler Lodge. My summer get-aways included spending the night with cousins or going to Paw paw Cox's Luxury Summer Resort for a few days.

Maw maw and paw paw lived in a tiny house out in the country where TV reception was minimal and bed time was before the sun set. There was no McDonald's with a play place just around the corner and no video games to keep us indoors for hours at a time. Paw paw didn't take us places or buy us things to keep boredom at bay, what he did give us was his time.

We took turns trying to beat paw paw at checkers and played for hours in the big yard. We fished, hunted rocks, climbed hills that seemed like mountains, picked tomatoes and cucumbers from the garden and spent hours swinging on the front porch swing. Every once in awhile we would venture out in pawpaw's old car to visit family or neighbors. Paw paw would drive with maw maw in the front seat beside him, while my brother and I rode in the backseat happily eating orange slice candy or circus peanuts.

If I had only known back then that my own two children were destined to grow up without a grandfather, I would have written down every single thing about both of my grandfathers to share with them. It is impossible for me to imagine a childhood without Paw paw Cox and Granddaddy Holden, and I hate that my kids will never have memories of going to pawpaw's house or riding on granddaddy's tractor. It's been said  "you don't miss what you never had", but I believe there are a few exclusions to that old saying which includes granddaddy's and pawpaw's.

Summer is coming to an end and I am longing for a trip to the beach but I would gladly trade a hundred beach vacations for one week at Paw paw Cox's Luxury Summer Resort. A place where happiness comes from who you spend your time with and not where you spend your time at.

Turkey, Chicken Nuggets and Marshmallows

An unsuspecting preschooler headed to school with her lunchbox full of goodies packed by mom, fully expecting to enjoy it later at the appropriate time. I'm wondering if she would have insisted on skipping lunch that day or even preschool altogether, if she had known the attention her lunch menu would garner.

A teacher made the decision to confiscate the child's turkey and cheese sandwich and replace it with a more nutritionally sound meal of chicken nuggetts prepared by the school. Personally, I have nothing against chicken nuggets but I think the person eating the meal or in this case, the mom preparing the meal should determine the type of poultry her child consumes.


When did teachers start inspecting the contents of lunch boxes? Who determined that chicken nuggets was the healthier choice over turkey? Have Americans become too ignorant to prepare meals for their offspring? Will someone be coming to our homes to throw out unnacceptable breakfast choices and offer healthier alternatives? Will parents be subject to legal action if we do not provide meals that are approved by our children's teachers? Stay tuned as the media frenzy surrounding this story searches for the answers to these and other life or death questions this story has produced.

Not making national headlines, but an equally important story has surfaced on a local level right here in our own quiet little community of Killen, Alabama. A source who wishes to remain anonymous, revealed to me today that Brooks High School has announced that any student caught with marshmallows in their possession will be suspended from school. From what I understand a terrible battle was fought in the science and math building with marshmallows being the weapon of choice. Thankfully no injuries have been reported but that does not negate the seriousness of this incident. We all know how dangerous marshmallows can be, while researching the story I read on facebook about a marshmallow gun that is especially effective if you use the old lick'em and stick'em move, a strategy obviously developed by a seasoned soldier familiar with marshmallow weaponry.

To this I would say, thank you to the dictators who are making the important decisions that we as parents do not have the good sense to make. Take the turkey off the table, the marshmallows out of the schools and we will produce fine young Americans who realize that mom and dad are not capable of making sound decisions without outside interference or...... we could just stay out of lunch boxes that don't belong to us and tell the kids not to play with marshmallows at school.

Sleep-Over at Miss Martha's

Forty three years ago, give or take a few months, I reached a milestone in my life. I was going to my very first sleep-over. If you've ever been in that position and I know most of you have, I don't have to tell you how excited I was. I was to be an overnight guest in the home of Miss Martha Porter, along with a few other girls. I think I began packing my clothes in a brown paper bag days before the actual sleep over. I was taking a night gown, school clothes, tooth brush, socks and a bag of Butterfingers I had secretly snatched from the kitchen and saved for that special night.

My happiness about the sleep-over was overshadowed by a tiny bit of anxiety about being away from home. I had never spent the night anywhere except my Aunt Betty's or my grandparents and I didn't really know what to expect. I imagined all kinds of crazy things....what if Martha's mom was mean? What if her daddy was a monster? What if their food wasn't good? Food was a priority for me even way back then. What if I wet the bed and Martha told the entire second grade? What if they were Baptist? Everyone in our family was Church of Christ and until I started school I had never met a Baptist or a Methodist. I remember one of the girls in class telling me she was Presbyterian. She might as well have said, "I'm a Martian". The shock value would have been the same. I worried for days that she was going straight to hell just for saying the word Presbyterian, let alone claiming to be one. I was pretty sure Martha wasn't a Presbyterian because she seemed normal and looked pretty normal except for being really skinny. I pushed my worries aside and looked forward to the big night.

Finally the day of the sleep over arrived, I got on the school bus with my brown paper bag and headed out for a big adventure. Somehow I made it through the school day, but not without bragging about how I was spending the night with Martha. Everybody in the second grade knew my plans. After school a group of second grade girls showed up at Martha's where things were going just fine until parents started arriving to pick up their children, before I knew it I was alone with Martha and her kid sister, who was even skinnier than she was. It was at this point that I started rethinking the whole "spend the night" thing.

I hung in there until dark but as nice as Martha's momma was....she wasn't my momma. I began to cry like a big baby and before I knew it Martha's daddy, who by the way turned out not to be a monster, was on the phone with momma who was giving him directions to our house, where he dropped me off a few minutes later. My big adventure turned into a big disaster and the worst part of it was going to school the next day. Martha had arrived at school before me and she was good enough to tell everyone that her daddy had to take the crybaby home.

I was mortified about not staying the entire night and I was worried that Martha was not going to be my friend anymore. I had spent so much time planning, plotting and bragging about the sleep-over that it never crossed my mind that I wouldn't follow through. Over the years I've learned that no matter how well organized, planned and anticipated something is, there's always the possiblity that something will go wrong. And guess what? I still go to pieces when things don't work out, it's a character flaw that I accept. I am extremely grateful when things do work out as planned and even more grateful that bed wetting is no longer an issue for me.

Imagicnation

At the edge of Grandaddy Holden's yard there was a big tree surrounded by bushes that provided a secret shelter perfect for a young girl. On hands and knees, I would pull the bushes apart and crawl through to the area underneath the tree. It was a great place to give into the wild imagination I was blessed with. YES! Being able to pretend was a blessing for me, it gave me opportunities to experience things, meet people and go places that otherwise would have been out of reach for me.
In previous blogs I have expressed the deep affection I had for Donnie Osmond back in the day, but I have never told you about the time he came to visit. It's true, he came right up to the front door of my apartment and knocked on the door. We talked, I served a gourmet meal that I lovingly prepared for him, and he sang "Puppy Love" before we tearfully said our good byes. Ahhh....I have such fond memories of Donnie, but it just wasn't meant to be.
Once I realized things weren't going to work out between Donnie and me, I decided to leave town for awhile and that is how I ended up in a jungle living in a splendid tree house with Tarzan. Things were great until I realized I was afraid of heights, and didn't share Tarzan's love for wild animals. He was committed to swinging and it didn't appeal to me at all, so we ended our relationship and I returned to Alabama. The last time I heard from Tarzan, he was happily married to a chick named Jane.
I traveled quite a bit as a young girl visiting all the usual hot spots, Mayberry, Beverly Hills, and Petticoat Junction to name a few. I stayed in a hut on Gilligan's Island for some time, before being rescued by Little Joe Cartwright. I loved visiting the Ponderosa until the Cartwright brothers began fighting over me and Ben asked me to leave. That was kind of embarassing, but I understood that no one was allowed to come between the Cartwright brothers so I made a graceful exit.
To those of you who think I must have been a little "out there" as a kid, you could not be more wrong. It wasn't until I grew up and lost that magical thing called imagination that my sanity ever came close to being in jeopardy. What fun it would be to sit down to a gourmet meal of saltines and cold RC Cola with Donnie Osmond. We could talk about old times and I could introduce him to my husband....or not. How nice it would be to crawl under granddaddy's tree to visit those lovely places from my childhood when life gets a little too hard. Now that I think about it, maybe I'm overdue for a trip, after all I hear being sane isn't all it's cracked up to be.