Family Loss

This has been a week of loss for our family: two family members in just two days. One, a grand-nephew only 49 years old, who fought a valiant battle against pancreatic cancer, succumbed to that terrible disease. He and his family knew that he was going to leave them. Being of Christian faith, they are secure in the knowledge that he is now in a much better place. That does not change the fact that there will be a great gaping hole in the lives of the family left behind: his parents, wife, children and other family members will be confronted with this empty space, which can only be dealt with one day at a time. I recall a song that says, “One day at a time, Lord, one day at a time.” And I believe living “One day at a time,” is part of the Alcoholics Anonymous creed. Attempting to look at a possibly long road ahead without the person we’ve lost can be overwhelming. Just too much to contemplate.

The day following David’s death, my youngest sister, aged 63, died suddenly and unexpectedly in a car-train accident, where she apparently drove in front of an on-coming train at an unprotected crossing. I’m sure she neither heard nor saw the train, but of course I don’t know why. Was she distracted? Was there a medical reason? A medication side effect that made her less aware of her surroundings?

Susan was not only my youngest sister, but the youngest in our family of 12 children, eight boys and four girls. Now there are only four left, two boys and two girls. The two younger girls were born after I married and were near the age of my own two daughters. They grew up together, more like cousins than aunts and nieces.

The news about Susan was so unexpected, I was in shock. The blood pressure soared and I couldn’t speak without stuttering for a while, until it began to descend to a more acceptable rate .

She, too, has a family: a husband, children, grandchildren, and I’m sure they are having trouble comprehending (if indeed it can be done) so great and sudden loss. She too, is of Christian faith, so no worries for her after-life; but oh, those left behind, who will now have to find a way to live without her. God help them and sustain them. God help us all.

What can I say to you Susan? I don’t know,words fail me. Perhaps, only as I said before: Susan, Susan, Susan!

Making a Mess

Two years ago yesterday on July 31st, I began this blog. The day before, on Sunday, I spilled a full cup of coffee when I attempted to set down the cup on a side table while watching that couple dance their way down the aisle to be married. Not paying enough attention to what I was doing, I set the cup too close to the edge, it bobbled, I lost control of the cup, and the “whole cup of coffee” spilled onto the floor.

Two years later, plus one day, I did the same thing again this morning, though for a different reason. This time I lost the cup as well as the coffee, so every drop went on the floor. Not a great start to the day.

When we were raising our family, I had a motto about making a mess: When you make a mess, there’s just one thing to do about it, and that is clean it up. I’m talking about the accidental, unintentional things that will occur in a home and in a family. I see no reason to get excited about something that wasn’t done as a result of mischief. In that case it would be the mischief that needed attention. Goodness knows, I got scolded and punished plenty of times for the sometimes broken dish, as a result of my clumsiness in the kitchen. I was the family klutz it seems. Yes, I know the reason.

I did have a word or two for myself this morning, due to my not paying attention to what I was doing. Not having the luxury of maid service, I had to take my own advice and clean up the mess. When the carpet dries, I will see whether or not I have to go over it again, and I strongly suspect that I will have to do just that.

Since the ‘spill’ episode, the day has gone by much as usual, doing this and that small task. Among other things, I finished the edge of a crocheted scar and have begun a small baby cap, which is about 2/3 finished.

When I go out again, and pick up new batteries and a charger for my camera, perhaps I’ll post some pictures.

Hope you haven’t had any messes to clean up today; but, if so, I hope they’re all small.

P.S. Being right is good, except when it isn't. More spot cleaning [a realllly big spot] coming up.

June 2011

Another fast-traveling month has zipped by with more storms, but not so violent thank goodness. The aftermath of the really bad ones will be felt for a long time by many.

I’ve been quite busy with one thing and another, and I find myself as usual with not enough time or energy, to do all that I would like to do, so by the end of the day I feel a bit used up.

I have been enjoying visiting with the ladies in the craft class/club here, while we work on various projects. It is nice to see these beautiful things emerge. And good to see the pleased smiles of those learning to do something new. I don’t want to take on any projects that I would have no place to put them when they’re finished. I only crochet, choosing various items, which don’t take a long time to do, and will eventually benefit someone somewhere.

I hope you had a good month and will have a good Independence Day celebration with your family, while we remember all who have made this possible and those who still give their service to our country.

May 2011

Another month has gone by. I bemoaned April because of the bad weather: too much rains and too many killer storms. The month of May night not have had as many tornados as April, but it had one of the deadliest. In addition to the many lives lost and people who were injured, I heard this morning that 8,000 homes were destroyed in Joplin. It sends your head reeling.

I applaud the volunteers and government officials who have done tremendous work in the area and all still have much to do. Sever years ago after my husband died, a friend asked me how I was doing. I said I don’t know, I just get up in the morning, do what I can, go to bed exhausted and try to get some sleep, then get up in the morning and and do it all over again. There are so many things that need doing in the tornado aftermath, the one foot in front of another regimen must be very trying indeed. God help you all and give you strength to do what you must.

April 2011

Here we are at the end of April 2011. In just a few more hours, four months of this year will have zoomed by. Tomorrow will be May 1st and rent day will have arrived again. I have always heard it said that times goes by faster as you get older, but it seems to me one week goes into another and one month to another, until we arrive at another year before we’ve hardly begun. What was it Eddie Albert said in the song? “The years dwindle down to a precious few.” Actually they don’t dwindle, they seem to be like Superman and rush by with the speed of light.

As it is, I don’t think anyone will regret seeing the end of this April; such a horrid weather month. So many homes destroyed and lives lost, though we were so very fortunate, in that there was no loss of life due to the tornados in our area. Other states, and especially Alabama were not so fortunate.

It seems we have been bombarded with “bad,” by many things: weather, wars, loss of homes, the jobs we need to support our families, kids [and some older folks too] messing up their lives with drugs, which leads to crimes and sometimes their deaths or that of others. So much trouble, not only in our country, but around the world. But among all the bad, there is also much good, as exemplified by the many helping hands reaching out to those who have lost so much.

Welcome to Winter/Spring

Surprise: Woke up this morning to find several inches of snow on the ground and on top of my car, and still snowing quite heavily. Weather people did say a front was coming through and snow could be mixed in. Looks to me like it wasn’t mixed in, but on top of… Supposed to be up around 40 this afternoon, and then maybe more rain, so the snow wouldn’t last long. Really!

About mid-morning, I looked out and the snow had almost stopped, so I thought it was winding down. A few minutes later, it had wound up again, with lots of big, heavy snow flakes. Old Mother Goose was really shaking out her feather beds. After a couple of hours, the snow lightened some, but it has continued to fall all day, and is still going strong.

We’ve had a lot of storms this winter, and most of the time we were on the light end of the accumulation where I live. This morning, they said the forecast had changed and this area was to get more than other places. I guess it was our turn.

One granddaughter, who was raised in Missouri, went to Florida to live, when her family moved there while she was in college. She always missed the change in seasons, and longed to see snow again. Her own children had never been exposed to snow and winter weather. Late last summer they moved back to Missouri, and I’d say they are now well acquainted with snow and ‘snow days.’ Maybe a little more than they would have liked.

I, too, like the change of seasons, but it has been a very long time since I thought snow was a great thing to have. Driving to and from work in snow and ice; the slush, the mess, the concern for people on the roads has long since lowered its appeal for me. I was fortunate never to have had a weather related accident, but one day on my way home from work, I slid on ice six ways from Sunday. [How long since you’ve heard that expression, if ever?] And never touched a thing. Talk about guardian angels!

My children, like many others, thought it wasn’t Christmas without snow. As far as I’m concerned, some of the best Christmas weather we had was when our kids played badminton in the yard with their Dad on Christmas Day. And later, another good Christmas weather day occurred, when the grandchildren were able to eat Christmas dinner at a small table out on the porch. That kind of weather is very much to my liking.

It is still snowing here, but it is now somewhat lighter. At any rate, all you drivers have a safe trip home this evening, and as someone on a television show used to say [I think it was Hill Street Blues], “Be careful out there!”

Grandpa Bowen: A Childhood Memory

William Cornelius Maguire Bowen, "Grandpa" Bowen, as most elderly people did at that time, lived with one of their children. He alternately lived with my family, or his daughter, Aunt Edith Cooper. He is one of my best childhood memories.

When I was born, he was 71 years old. His hair had been black, but by that time his hair was gray, and, he had a long, white beard. His eyes were a beautiful blue. I can still see those twinkling blue eyes in my mind. My brother, Tom, had those same twinkling blue eyes, with mischief added to the twinkle, as a boy.

Of Grandpa's four brothers, three were tall. Two were lean and lanky; the other also tall, but had a bit more muscular build. One other brother died when he was about 30 years old, and I never knew him, or had a description of him. Grandpa William M . C. Bowen was slim, but he was not tall like his brothers. I suspect he minded, as siblings will, that he, the eldest son, had to look up (in height) to his younger brothers.

He was injured by a falling tree while cutting timber when he was in his 50s and his leg was broken. Apparently it was not set properly, and he walked on crutches for the remainder of his life. This curtailed much of the physical work he had previously done, but he made himself useful around the place doing what he could do.

My grandmother, Sarah Jane Deskin Bowen, died two days before I was born. Grandpa and Dad were away at her funeral, and when they arrived home, they found a new baby girl. I suppose this new child helped fill a small hole in the empty space left in my grandfather's life, by my grandmother's passing. He was a very special part of my life as a child. He died much too soon for me, when I was only seven years old, and I missed him sorely. He was my special childhood friend.

My mother told me that when I was a baby, she would pile pillows in a rocking chiar, lay me on the pillows and Grandpa would watch me while she did her housework. If I woke and got fussy, Grandpa would put his foot on the rocker and gently rock the chair until I quieted, or Mother could come to do what was needed, if I was insistent.

Mother said she thought "Pa" Bowen was cranky. And one of my brother's, a little older than I, expressed the same opinion. I don't remember him being particularly crabby with me, except that once he told me to go get him a 'couple of sticks of wood." Being a literal minded child, that is exactly what I did. If that was what Grandpa wanted, that was what he got. I brought in two sticks of wood.

He fussed at me because I didn't bring more wood. And being this literal minded child, I didn't understand why he was displeased, when I did exactly what he told me to do. In my defense, I might add that I was a 'small' child, and unless the sticks were also pretty small, I probably couldn't have carried much more than that anyway.

I do remember that I pestered Grandpa, probably too frequently, to "Please let me look in Grandma's trunk." For some reason, I was fascinated by what was in this trunk and I delighted in going through it. However, I can only remember one item specifically, that it contained. That was the little clay pipes that it was said Grandma smoked, as did older women of some cultures. Grandpa promised me the pipes would be mine when he was gone; but he was not living with us when he died, and noone would have paid any attention to a child my age anyway. Later, I asked my cousins if they remembered anything about the trunk, and what had happened to the pipes, but neither had any memory of them. I suspect that all, or most of what was in the trunk was discarded as having no value.

As often as I asked Grandpa to see what was in the trunk, he had plent of opportunities to be cranky with me if he wanted to, but if he was, I have never recalled it. Cranky or not, I wouldn't have traded him for anything. When he left us, there was an empty space in my life too, and there was noone else to fill it for a very long time.