Daddy's Train

My dad loves trains. When we moved to town from the farm, a busy railroad ran two blocks from our house. When he heard the whistle blow in the distance, Dad would be out the door, walking down the street to watch the train as it passed by. In later years he would take his video camera and photograph different trains as they came through our little town. Our basement was home to a little model railroad that wound its way through plaster mountains on a plywood base. The grandchildren would watch from the stairway or try their hand at the seat of engineer, and colorful pictures lined the wall that they had designed and drawn for their "Pop".
Several years ago my parents were able to take a trip on the Silverton/Durango train in Colorado and awhile back my dad was invited to ride on a little two-man car on a track near Topeka. But in his heart of hearts, dad has always wanted to be at the helm; to drive a train.

At 80 years old, my father still rides his bicycle around town. Just two blocks from the house where they now live runs another railroad track. During his outings he has paused there to watch, befriending some of the workers who run the train and switch engines. One day, shortly before Christmas he was talking with them when they asked if he'd like to come along while they went to the edge of town to switch engines. His bicycle was loaded onto the train and he got on board for the short ride. The engineer must have felt the longings of a fellow traveler and asked my dad if he'd like to drive the train. In this picture he stands beside the engine that took him from being an observer on the sidelines to a participant in a wish granted. I won't soon forget the look on his face when he showed me the photograph, nor the thrill in his voice when he described the adventure. With one small gesture, these kindly men made a grand act. On a cold day in December, they made my father's dream come true.

147th

Today is Kansas Day. For as long as I can remember, I've marked January 29th in my mind as a day to take note of my heritage; a day to be proud of where - and whom - I come from.

For 147 years, she's looking good. Happy Birthday Kansas!

(As I've been battling the flu the past two days, I don't have the energy to write much so have linked an earlier post above. )

The Sunrise to come

One of my favorite parts of being a Kansas girl is the never-ending horizon. I once heard that a sailor from the prairie feels at home adrift on the sea because of the endless sky and wide open spaces.

Each morning as I leave for work, I'm treated to a canvas that is never the same; a gift that transforms from minute to minute with prismatic bursts of color. I'm always checking through the window to see what waits outside the back door...and rarely am I disappointed.

Tomorrow brings a difficult day. With a loss of a friend and a trip back 'home' we will spend our day shrouded in gray. May the winds of time bring peace to us all, sweet memories to sustain us and new sunrises of hope for the future.

Eventide

I found this old post from September of '05 while going through some of my writing. It makes me long for the lazy nights of summer...


I love this time of day: twilight, dusk, sunset, eventide.....when everything is edged in rims of gold, silhouetted against an everchanging canvas. All are still, all at rest. A time to lay down worries, a time to be at peace. The witching hour...

Enough Love

There's something about this picture that I love. I think it is the candid moment of sharing between my children and their dad - being oblivious to my shot - that warms me.

They love their father. Even though he lives three hours away he has been a big part of their lives through the years, traveling to ballgames, plays, concerts and simple 'moments' so he can share in those steps that they're taking.

They've never had to choose whom to love. From the time we separated 11 years ago they've known that there was an abundance of love, not only for them, but from them. I remember saying, when they were very young, that the wonderful thing about love is that it never runs out; that there is always enough for everyone. Because life - and love - isn't a competition, and the differences between a couple should never overflow to affect the heart of a child.

So when my daughter and son talk to their dad on the phone....or when they see him in person, share a hug and a kiss and say to each other, "I Love You," I feel it too. Because they are loved, and because they are given the freedom to love, their world will always be a place big enough to share.

A New Look

Some of the most ordinary things can look special from a different perspective. Sometimes you have to digress from the beaten path to see things in a new light. Even an old battered windmill can become a thing of beauty on the hush of a stilled wind against an azure prairie sky...

Taste from the past

When I was a little girl living on the farm, we used to go up the hill to Sam and Sibyl Carey's house. There Sam would let us children have a sample of Horehound candy; a cross between tea, molasses and root beer. I loved it and savored it, as candy wasn't something we had often back in the 1960's.

In a nearby town at a small dollar store, I found this beloved sweet hanging on a rack amidst the Twizzlers, Lifesavers and Starbursts. It is my choice of candy over the newer tastes with their bright colors and fancy packaging. I'm not sure if it's because of the actual flavor or because of the loving memories associated with its introduction into my life. You cannot find it at the large superstores or name brand shops. But once in awhile it shows up at the hardware or tractor supply stores; places that too, bring back fond moments of childhood.

I took some to school so some of the students could try them. Most made a face and threw them away, but one or two enjoyed their unique flavor. Like the Littmus Lozenge in the book, Because of Winn Dixie, it carries something extra underneath its sugar-coating. For me that is simpler times on the farm, the innocent joy of childhood and the love of good neighbors.

And all that in a small piece of candy...

Staying positive

When I first started this blog I wasn't sure what I was doing or what I would post here. I loved to write and take pictures and with the encouragement of a friend, I stumbled into this new and amazing world.

Everyone posts for a different reason, but it didn't take long to decide that I wanted this to be a positive place; somewhere that people could go to read words of encouragement and hope. A place that would reaffirm their own blessings....a light in a sometimes dim world.

A few days ago, I wrote about a couple of things I've been battling. Nothing major or life-changing, but inner struggles that tug at me emotionally. And I made a friend cry. She was so upset, knowing that I was upset...and I hated that.

So that post now sits in my draft pile as a reminder to keep things positive and to remember that I truly am fortunate for all that I have, for those whom I love and for those who love me.

It's cloudy outside, but here on the inside, the sunshine has returned...

Lingering...

The Christmas decorations are still up at home, including the tree. I can't bring myself to take it all down just yet. The holidays were such a special time - a respite from the craziness of the world outside our front door. It was so nice to sit at home with my family, having no place to go. I guess I feel that once the decorations come down, it's "business as usual."

This picture is one that lingers with me as well; two smiling faces of a Christmas past. Like a sweet bouquet, I love to savor the fragrance of those innocent days when I could fix their problems with a kiss and a cookie.

Though time moves ahead - and rightfully so - it's OK to steal a precious moment from yesterday....then STILL a moment from yesterday....and linger there for just a little while.

New Year's Eve

Typically on New Year's Eve, we gather at either my sister's or brother's house to celebrate the past year and ring in the new. It is always a fun time as we pass out hats, horns and confetti to the kids and indulge ourselves with merriment at the prospect of seeing another new year filled with joy and love.

But this year, one of my daughter's dearest friends was in the hospital, recovering from complications from her December 1st appendectomy.

It was nearly 8:30 when we stood outside her room, waiting as her
mother, one of my good friends, talked with her father and the nurse. Her twin brother and my son were also with us and we stilled the laughter bubbling over as we anticipated her joy at having New Year's Eve visitors.

I wish I had a picture that showed the smile that spread across her face as she saw my daughter walk through her hospital room door. But then I would've missed the moment. They are very close - these two girls - and it is a friendship that is a blessing to them both.

Our two families are connected in a way that never fails to warm my heart. Our sons are in the same class and play basketball together, sharing their friendship since we moved here in 2001.

Cathy and I both work at the school and have shared many moments of laughter and togetherness with our children and their activities, and she is a friend whom I value and treasure. Even our husbands have a history. When my husband, James, was a child, he lost his home and all his belongings in a fire. Cathy's husband, Jim, gave him a new truck that he had been wanting, unknowingly prefacing a family friendship that would resume in the years ahead.

We donned silly hats, watched the celebration at Time's Square and brought in the New Year with sparkling grape juice, lots of hugs and shining confetti. It was a very special night that will long be remembered.

But then, with friendships likes these and a smile like that, where else would we be on this New Year's Eve?

A Happy Anniversary

Originally written in 2006, this is a repost for my wonderful parents...who today, celebrate their 59th anniversary.

Fifty-seven years ago on January 1, 1949, my mother and father slipped off and were quietly married in a small church with only the minister and his wife as a witness. Neither wanted the production of a large wedding and truth be told, I'm not sure they would have married under those circumstances!

Mom was a secretary working at McKesson's in Wichita when she met my dad; a soldier returning from the army where he had been stationed on the Aleutian Islands. They began as friends, getting to know one another first, then love followed, resulting in their marriage and setting the course for this journey.

From 1951 to 1964, six children were born; my siblings and me, and we began weaving the tapestry of our lives. Each child remembers things a little differently, from different places in our pattern, but from my view, life was enchanting; a never-ending circle of love, warmth and happiness. We were safe, valued, encouraged, taught and wanted. We were our own community of entertainment and merriment and that continues to this day. Even if we weren't family, we would choose one another as friends and companions on this sometimes joyful, sometimes difficult path through life.

As the years went by, grandchildren were added to the mixture; twelve bright, beautiful people who now range in age from 11 to 24. There are countless photographs of Mom and Dad with each and every one of them, but this one captures the essence of the relationships; Mother holding little hands and in the midst of what is going on while Dad smiles and is ever near for guidance and reassurance.

Because of them, we are us; a family rich in faith and hope and love. We are bound to one another through blood, but close to one another through our hearts.

If Webster were living and could re-define "family", there we would be, in living, brilliant color. How blessed we are that out of all the people in the world, an ordinary man met an ordinary woman and from their love came an extraordinary life.

Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad.....how fortunate we are to have our path lit with your example of what it's all about.

To date...

They've known each other since 6th grade, have shared classes and hung out during the high school musicals. He's friends, too, with my son; coming over to play video games, watch movies and go sledding. They've all hung out together as a group with their cookie-baking goofiness and home movie-making...

But something happened somewhere along the way. He looks at her differently now, seeing beyond the "buddy" to the beautiful person she is.

Some guys miss it, choosing instead the girls who demand the attention; girls whose beauty is fleeting because it eventually loses its substance. It is the rare teenage boy who truly sees my daughter and understands who she is. She doesn't travel the normal path, but strikes out on her own, standing in her strength and grounded in her ideals.

I give him credit, this young man who stepped across our door tonight in a different light. Because he gets it. And in the middle of his goofy, light-hearted and quirky demeanor, he has reserved a place of respect for my "little girl".

BUT...he still got 'the talk' from me before they left for the movies, and I'll still be waiting for their midnight return!

Savoring Christmas

I love this picture because it is a lingering memento of Christmas. Though probably not "photogentically" perfect, it is memories of past years wrapped in sentimental ornaments, bought for little hearts or made by little hands.

The tree downstairs holds the treasures from my own life: the little felt snowman given to me in kindergarten; a Santa made by my dear friend, Kris; a painted star my mother-in-law gave to me after I admired it so; Hallmark tokens that touched me at different times in my life....all lit by white lights that give the tree one brilliant tone.

But this tree is theirs: a little boy and girl who became teenagers while my back was turned; a tree that sparkles with color because white lights could never capture who they are; a real tree because it is fragrant, lovely.......tradition. Every year they bring out their individual ornament boxes and trim the tree with memories. And every year two new ornaments are added upon the branches and into their hearts to represent a new year....a new Christmas.

This picture I love, too, because in it I see the fun of a Christmas moment: a genuine smile...an ornery look; two kids who are not just brother and sister, but best friends. I never tire of looking at them nor of the feeling that comes over me when we share times like these.

The calendar says December 28th. But I pushed pause three days ago because I'm savoring Christmas; holding fast to the magic just a little bit longer...

Thankful

I don't usually post links on my blog, but if you have about five minutes.....I promise it will be worth it.

My son bought me Josh Groban's new CD for Christmas, knowing how much I enjoy his music. The song, "Thankful" is so beautiful, telling and true. Turn up your sound and close your eyes.....and I suspect it will touch your heart, just as it did mine.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=44ZeNXqEuTQ

Postal Greetings

Tucked among my keepsakes of old letters and photographs, I came across this Christmas postcard, sent to my great grandmother eighty-two years ago. I love this picture: a cottage tucked cozily among the snow-covered hills with flowered sprigs and colorful birds as its accent. The script on the back is flowing and graceful; the sentiments short, yet sincere.

May this Christmas Season bring you lasting happiness, and may the skies of the New Year be filled with promise, peace and hope.

Merry Christmas!

Sharing Christmas

I love Christmas time with its bright lights, mistletoe, carols of peace and scents of kitchen baking. Our internet connection hasn't been working at home for awhile but finally, with the holiday just over the horizon, I am able to share a small part of our world.

There was a late November day when my husband and son climbed 'up on the housetop' to string Christmas lights; their afternoon dotted with warmth and an azure sky. Little did they know that several storms would ensue such as today's blizzard, raging against a steel-gray sky. It was a day set to a slow-paced tempo as unsolicited help climbed the ladder to join them...

My daughter and two of her friends joined Santa (disguised beneath his beard as their classmate, Wes) after an early morning round with the ACT. They murmured Christmas wishes beneath sleepy eyes and taxed minds then began their own shopping for those on their lists...

Late nights have been the norm as finals loomed close, presents were wrapped and oblivious basketball games pursued their harried schedule. Friends spent the night when ice storms stranded them at our house, yet there were always ways to find entertainment! Midnight gigglers hoped and watched for signs that school would be canceled for the day (no such luck...just a two-hour delay)!

Sledding parties in sub-freezing temps and fresh, white powder scooped from drifts for making snow ice cream were part of our white December. Laughter and teasing, music and singing filled the air as plans were made and cold winds blew outside our snug, little home.

Dough was made, chilled and rolled for sugar cookies as four sets of hands cut reindeer, stockings, bells and stars. Though a fresh batch of dough was needed before the final results (!), memories of floured fingers and snatches of cookie dough will fill their hearts in the days to come.

Decorations went up as little trees filled each room: white lights and silver bulbs on the 3-foot white tree, gold spun around greenery with old-fashioned ornaments and memory-filled trimmings that adorned one downstairs. Garland and Santas, snowmen and greenery became commonplace along stairways and doorways as elves poked their faces around every turn.

With days filled to overflowing and nights just too short, we didn't get "the tree" until just last week. Though I love the perfection of the artificial trees, nothing can compete with the aroma and stature of a real tree filling the house. I have never "not" had a live tree. As a child we would cut down cedars from the pasture and throughout my adolescence and into my adulthood, a true evergreen always held the place of honor in our home. This year we were a bit industrious, choosing a tree of great proportions. Even my 6'2" son had to stand on the couch to put on the star! It's berth gives its height great competition and we have picked it up off the floor on more than one occasion after a tumble from the stand! But with its arrival and its presence, it is now officially "Christmas".

The shopping is all but finished and though I am behind on my baking and cards, I am thrilled to have time off from the busy-ness of school to relax and enjoy the beauty of this season.
It was wonderful to wake up today, knowing that there was no place I needed to be but home and nothing that had to be done. There is great comfort and peace in that.

So with just a few gifts to be wrapped I can leisurely catch up with family and friends as I write out my annual greetings. "White Christmas", "It's a Wonderful Life" and "Holiday Inn" are on the agenda for the days ahead, a visit to my Mom and Dad's and friends over for Christmas dinner. With more family coming in a week and more memories to be made, I am more aware than ever of the blessings I've been given. And even though a storm throws its tantrum outside my window, in its absence it will leave a white palette of beauty that will sparkle and shine.

May your days, too, be merry and bright...

Cheer

Suzy and I have been friends for over six years now; ever since I moved here. Her office is just around the corner from our classroom, literally 10 steps away.
This morning I opened my school email and found this message from her:

"Hey Lori. I was just missing you today. How is your day going?"

We've been emailing back and forth all morning, just to touch base and share our thoughts.

Sometimes these very moments are so needed to brighten a day. Loving thoughts and actions are useless unless shared.

I feel as if I've received an early Christmas gift. Thanks, Suz...

Santa Baby

I have a Santa Claus collection that comes out each year during the holiday season. Carefully, the foam wrapping and tissue paper come off to reveal memories of Christmas past as I think back on cherished moments.

This photograph of my son when he was 3 or 4 sits in a red frame on top of the piano, nestled among several replicas of Jolly Old St. Nick. It always makes me smile, remembering his child laughter ringing through the house as we baked sugar cookies, danced around the Christmas tree and played carols on the piano. Hands down, it's the best of my collection!

No Time for Sunsets

I miss twilight.

Each new week I look at my calendar and see a list of things that needs to be done. Tonight I took gate money at the Junior High ballgame...and tomorrow I will attend my son's third game this week. Three more games in the days ahead, a music program and a theater practice, performed just for me. Cleaning after school to earn money to stay a little less far behind, laundry, supper, dishes, sleep.

I miss my sunsets and having time to just be. I miss curling up with a book, writing letters and having no place to go.
With Christmas just on the horizon, I feel a bit cheated when I look around at all our lovely decorations, but cannot be home to enjoy them. Schedules are filled to the brim with things that need attending, and I want time to slow down. These days it's not about saying 'no', but rather keeping up with what must be. I feel the strain on all of us, being put on time lines when we're used to having our own moments together.

The weekend is a breath away; I'm anxious for the respite and for a quiet Kansas sunset.

Winter Ball

Last night was our school's Winter Ball; a semi-formal dance held in the commons area of the gymnasium to celebrate the upcoming holidays. Often the kids attend in groups and go out to eat before the festivities so they can have more time to share and laugh together. Originally, my kids and their friends were going to do the same, but with the weather being a little iffy, I volunteered to make them dinner at our house so they could be both safe and save a little money for Christmas shopping.
One of my daughter's dearest friends was missing, however. She went to the hospital Friday morning and had a delayed appendectomy yesterday afternoon. She is a beautiful girl whom my daughter adores...and her presence was sorely missed.

Her boyfriend (the young man in the brown shirt) had just gotten back from the hospital where he took the corsage he had meant to give her that night. His shirt was to match her dress and it's obvious that his heart was not into this night without her.

I am thankful to have kids with a strong judge of character, who choose friends with good hearts and loving spirits. As time slips by, they grow up and the cheerful noises no longer echo through the house, I will miss moments like these when our days were filled with laughter and our home alive with song.