Timing is everything....

A friend of mine, contacted me recently with something he found in an old french book.  It was so beautiful and so moving that I had to share it with all of you.  The feelings of this woman are so vivid and so haunting, it makes you wonder what became of her and her love.  The passage in the book is dated, September 30, 1924, by Mary Ruth Cole to Robert Kirby Whyte.

      I'am with you dear...wandering thru memory lane, living the years of laughter and tears over and over again.  I'am dreaming yet of the night we met and life was a lovely refrain.  You were so shy, saying goodbye in the dawn, with only a glance and full of romance...then you were gone.  Tho my hopes are in vain, still my love will remain...dreaming of you...wandering thru memory lane...Love,  Sweet Mary

I can see them standing in a doorway, tears in her eyes.  I am sure they made love that night, but she knows that her feelings for him are not the same feelings he feels for her.  Maybe he is protecting her because he is going to war or maybe there is another woman that he loves, but can't break away from Mary.  Whatever the story is, it begs to be told.  My friend has been researching the archives, searching for answers.  Robert went to Culver Military Academy.  He found this written about him...Robert was the most popular boy in school.  He was head cheerleader and was Pres. of the Hop Club.  As captain of the Fighting E, he was at his best and was an all around good fellow.  He is very good looking man, more dashing with dark eyes...the kind that make a woman yearn for more.  I can picture him in my mind and I know why Mary was smitten with him.  I am sure he was a lady's man and had the interest of many women on campus.  My friend found another passage written to Robert in the book..
.
      You didn't want me when I wanted you.  I'am somebody else's now.  I gave thee chances, but you thru them all away.  I might have known you'd be sorry some day.  I still love you and yet we must forget.  I can't be untrue to my love.  You didn't want me when I wanted you...I'am somebody else's now....Mary

Oh how I wish I could fill in the blanks...timing is everything in love...their time was not right.  I have to wonder if after she wrote this, the pangs of love were too much to overlook.  I wonder if they did eventually get together.  If they acted on their feelings, instead of what was right.  He obviously contacted her later and told her how much he loved her and that he was sorry he left that night at dawn.  She moved on and found another love, but her first love for him is still in her heart.  Why did she write these things in this french book?  She must have given it to him and then later got it back and wrote in it again.  This book holds the mystery that we may never know the answers too.  My friend is trying his hardest to find some information on Mary.  He is hoping to find her children.  He would like to give this book to them.  Mary was from Grand Haven, Michigan and went to a school for girls called Akeley Hall in 1922.  It is unclear to me how she met Robert.  Life is a mystery....and timing is everything....

Thank you Ron Moschel....

Karaline's story....

There are a few events in your life that get seared in your brain and every detail stands out.  Such is the journey of little Karaline into our lives.  I wanted to get it wrote down, so Karaline will be able to read it someday.

   Rich and I had been on a cruise and just got back.  Regan showed up at my house unexpectedly.  I remember she walked into the kitchen.  She said, "Mom, I'm pregnant.......but I lost the baby".  All in a matter of seconds, the happiest moment of my life, turned into the deepest sadness I had ever felt.  I couldn't comprehend it.  She said she wanted to wait until I got back from vacation, but she had severe cramping and bleeding last night and she lost the baby.  She had called the Dr. and the Dr. said it was early in the pregnancy and that there was nothing they could do.  She was still having cramping, so she needed to go get checked.  After lots of crying and hugging, I took her to the hospital.  When we got there, she told the nurse and Dr. what had happened.  They were going to do a DNC on her, but the Dr. said, just to be sure, let's do an ultrasound first.  Regan was taken away and I was left by myself.  I hadn't even called Rich yet and told him.  That was a phone call I didn't want to make.  I called him and told him like I was told, " Rich, Regan is pregnant, but she lost the baby".  Shock and silence is how I know he felt, for I was feeling it too.  Greatest joy and then the greatest sorrow all in a matter of seconds.  I told him she was fine, but I knew better...Regan wanted this baby so much.  While I sat alone in that room, I don't think I ever felt sadder or more alone.  All of a sudden, I hear this laughter.  It sounds like Regan laughing.  I think to myself, what the heck is she laughing about.  They wheel her into the room and she hands me a strip of ultrasound pictures...she says, "Mom, we're having a baby, I'm still pregnant".  I couldn't believe it...my emotions have been on a roller coaster.  I screamed and cried for joy, like I have never cried before.  To come from the darkest place I have ever been to the happiest, was beyond belief.  I then called Rich back and said, "You're gonna be a Grandpa, she didn't lose the baby after all".  The Dr. said she had a tear in her sac around the baby in her uterus.  We still weren't out of danger yet.  The next few weeks would be critical.  Either the tear would heal itself, or she would lose the baby.  I guess, I didn't really hear those words at first, because in my mind, that baby was gonna make it and be just fine.  The next month was a really scary time, but every week that went by, the better her chances were.  So, Karaline was born Oct 5, 2005.  Rich and I were there to witness her birth.  I took the still pictures and Rich took the movie film.  The movie film is so awesome for so many reasons, but for me, it was hearing Rich laugh, this nervous excited laugh the whole time.  She came out of her so fast that the Dr. almost didn't have time to catch her.  Our little diva was born.  She was perfect in every way.  That first grandchild, will always be special, not because they are loved anymore, but because you never knew you could love anything that much.  I have told people having grandchildren takes love to another level.  You love your own children so much and everything that they do makes you so proud and love them more.  Well, when they give you that grandchild, that is the ultimate thing that they can do.  It is better than anything else they have ever done and that love you have for your child is then past on to the grandchild a 100 times more.  Well, that is the story of Karaline's journey into our life.  Today marks 6 yrs. that we have had that little girl in our life.  I have watched Karaline full time since she was 8 weeks old.  We have always been inseparable.  She is alot like me in her likes.  Regan was never a girly girl like I was, so when Karaline fell in love with Barbie's, I finally got my girly girl.  Regan has learned to appreciate Barbie's and dolls now that she is Karaline's Mom.  She had no use for them when she was a little girl.  So Karaline, if you are reading this someday, I hope you know how much you are loved.  I am so looking forward to watching you grow up and become a beautiful young lady.

The Journey of the Traveling Jean....

Rich and I got married in 1972.  We were 19 years old, in love and ready to start our lives.  What we didn't have in material things, we made up for in love.  Rich was very smart and a very hard worker, so I never doubted that our dreams would come true.  The smartest thing we ever did, was wait to have children.  Over the next five years, we grew up and saved our money.  Rich's plan was to build our home himself.  We found a lot we loved in Plymouth and just as we were breaking ground, we also broke other unchartered territory.  I unexpectantly became pregnant.  We were so happy, but the timing was a little off.  I kept working at the bank and every night after work and on weekends, Rich would be at the lot building our home.  I helped as much as I could, but obviously, that wasn't much.  All our extra money was going into the house, so baby things were not bought in abundance.  I was quite a seamstress back then and I made almost all Regan's clothes.  I was so proud of her name.  I would embroider her name on the little jumpsuits I would make her.  Everyone loved her name.  I did splurge on one thing when she was a baby...a real pair of blue jeans.  I bought them right there in Bourbon at a little store there in town.  It wasn't in business very long, but I saw those little jeans and I had to have them.  I never dreamed when I put them on my little girl, that I would also put them on my grandchildren.  When Seth came along three years later, I put them on him and he wore them alot too.  After he outgrew them, I put them away.  I gave away alot of their clothes, but I also saved alot of their favorite outfit.  I wish I would have saved more of my clothes and Rich's clothes back then.  I would love to have my bell bottoms that I wore and I would love to have those plaid polyester bell bottoms that Rich had.  They were a brown plaid and I remember he had chunky heel platform shoes.  Oh yes, as hideous as that sounds, he looked hot in them....lol  I probably had my brown granny dress on too. 

   As much as times change, its good to know that somethings don't change.  A little pair of Maverick blue jeans, bought 34 years ago...stood the test of time and still have alot more traveling to do.l

Its that time of year...go buy yourself a pretty pair of panties.

This is the first day of fall...the beginning of a change of seasons.  Our beloved Facebook is changing and being the humans that we are, we aren't accepting it very easily.  Like the changing of the seasons, after awhile, we realize we can't do anything about it, so we put on a sweater and shoes and socks.  My blog is about growing old gracefully...or at least I tell myself that.  My latest ailment is my feet.  Good lord, of all the things on my body that I thought I would NOT have to worry about, my feet were the last thing.  I always took pride in my feet.  My toes were always so pretty and they took me any place I wanted, without complaining.  In the last year, they have begun to let me know that they too are aging.  I now have a bunion.  What a pain in the foot that is.  Recently we went to NYC and walked a million miles.  I had tennis shoes on, but believe me, it did NOT make a difference.  Not sure how I am gonna get around this.  I recently went to a shoe repair place and bought a shoe stretcher.  Oh lordy, how did it come to this?  I'd rather be buying a pair of heels.
   All of us have children and grandchildren.  Through them, we are seeing ourselves age.  As they grow up, we have to accept that we are growing old too.  I remember when I was younger and saw my older family members...it just never registered, that I would one day take their place. I remember being young and feeling young and sexy.  They say you are as young as you feel...well somedays...I feel pretty old.  The problem with that is that if you let that feeling take over, you won't stay active and staying active is the only way to stay young.  Vicious circle and a constant battle to overcome.
   So with the changing of the seasons...I went to Victoria Secrets yesterday and picked up my free panty from them.  I chose the brightest color I could find.  Its not much, but it makes me feel young and pretty again...not wearing the bikinis anymore, but the hi-leg is still kinda sexy.  If you are a lady, go buy yourself a pretty pair of panties and if you are a guy...well, go commando!  What the heck!

You can go home.....but its not the same.

Rich and I went back home this past weekend for our 40th class reunion.  Renewing old friendships with common pasts.  Our class has been having reunions every 5 years.  Not too many new faces.  I have concluded that, if you didn't have a great experience in high school, you won't come back to the reunions.  I have heard it said lots of times, "if they didn't talk to me when I was in high school, why would I want to see them now".  I was always somewhere in the middle...not in the popular club....but I socialized there.  I was most comfortable, somewhere in the middle.  Those of us that do come, always have a great time.  Aging is a funny thing, it creeps up on us, stealing our identity.  We are all finally on the same playing field, sharing our reality.
    On Sunday, Rich and I went back to Bourbon.  Its been over 30 yrs. since we walked the streets of our hometown.  The town that I loved has changed so much, it was barely recognizable.  I remember how vibrant it used to be.  Small towns were so vital to everybody back then.  It was where you shopped for everything.  Bourbon had a wonderful grocery store called Dillingham's and above it a clothing store.  We also had a dime store and a furniture store, a hardware, jewelry, Cumberland pharmacy and Sharpe shoe store.  We had a news stand that always bustled with the most colorful of our townies.  At the heart of Bourbon was our bank, First State Bank, where I worked for 6 years.  I started working there right out of high school.  I started at minimum wage which was $1.35 an hour.  First State was a family owned one of a kind bank.  We were self contained and posted every check right there at the bank.  The things I learned and did, I can't believe I did for $1.35 an hour.  After a year, I was promoted to  bank teller, where again, the wage was the same.  I was responsible for so much money and I was only 20 years old.  After 6 years, I finally broke $3.00 an hour, but by then, I was pregnant with Regan and that ended my working career.  I loved every minute of it and the comradery of the women I worked with and the Mason's, will always be a cherished memory.  As we visited places in Bourbon, I went back to my bank.  It was as if time had stood still.  I looked in the window and everything was exactly the way it had always been.  The little town of Bourbon had changed, but the bank stood the test of time.  We went back to where our A&W Root Beer stand once stood.  For me, the ground is hallowed and holds the best times of my life.  I went to work there the summer I turned 16.  You had to be 16 before Harold would hire you.  I started out in the kitchen frying french fries, but soon became a car hop.  My first year there, the bypass had not been built yet, so all traffic on 30 came through Bourbon.  It was standing room only.  Lots of times every space would be parked 3-4 deep.  Again, I was only 16 yrs. old with a huge responsibility, working for 50 cents an hour plus tips.  An average tip back then was 25 cents, but then a spanish hot dog cost 25 cents and a mug of root beer was 10 cents, so in comparison, a 25 cent tip was good.  Once in awhile I would get a $1.00 tip, which was some guy wanting to get lucky with me.  Rich worked there too, he was inside manning the drinks and expediting the food.  My best friend India worked there too, so life was good...very good.
   Rich and I ate at the Bourbon Street Pizza place, which is in the old Dillingham building.  It was filled with old pictures of Bourbon.  I'm sure this must be popular with the kids, but it isn't even close to our Jim & Jeans.  That was truly Happy Days, with juke box and cherry cokes.  After every game, it was standing room only and the place to be.  After we ate our pizza, we drove around town visiting the places we used to live.  There was our very first little apartment on Thompson Street.  It was brand new when we moved in, then we moved to the red house on Center St. right next to the laundromat.  We lived in the upstairs apartment.  We only lived in apartments for our first year of marriage.  We then bought our first house at 304 Harris St. for $15,000.  It was the beginning for us...it fed our ability to build our first home in Plymouth and fulfil our dreams.

   So, yes you can go home and no it was not exactly the way I remembered it.  People change and our way of life has changed.  Not all change is for the better, but it made us the people we are today. 

Adventure in New York City...

ad-ven-ture  n.  1. a risky undertaking   2.  an unusual and exciting experience

   What an adventure we had....flying into a hurricane was probably not what most people would have done, in fact, I wanted to stay home, but I am glad we went.  Life is all about the stories you make.  Here is a recap of our adventure.
   We left home at 4:00 am Friday morning, but the upside to that was that we arrived in NYC by 8:30am.  We got to our hotel by 9:30am.  It was right in the heart of Manhatten on Wall Street.  We dropped our luggage off and quickly got out to enjoy the city.  Our first stop was Ground Zero, which was very close to our Hotel.  We went to the Ground Zero Museum.  Well worth our time.  We saw a piece of one of the planes that hit the tower.  It was the window of the plane.  It just gave me chills to look at it, because I imagined the terror of the person sitting by it looking out.  Someday, I want to go back and see it completely done.  It will be a National Treasure.  After that, we headed for Times Square.  We walked alot, but did take the subway too.  When we got there, the first thing we saw was the Naked Cowgirl...didn't know there was a Naked Cowgirl...Rich enjoyed that...she was adorable.  A little ways down was the Cowboy.  I stood beside him for the picture.  He put his arm around me.  He was pretty tall, so my arm went a little lower.  All of a sudden, I realized I was cupping his butt with my hand...I told him I was so sorry and he graciously said, "well, that's alright mam".  From there we saw Rockefeller Center and where NBC studios are.  The ice skating rink is all filled with little restaurants in the summer time, so its not near as pretty as it is in the winter time.  Central Park was our next stop.  Rich thought it would be a good idea to rent bikes.  I wasn't feeling too good, kinda queazy, but I said ok.  You could rent by the hour.  I told him to just rent it for a hour, but I got overruled by him and the guy selling the bikes.  We now have our bike for 2 hrs.  Well, off we go.  Central park is such a beautiful place, but it has alot more HILLS than you think.  Maybe it was the heat and humidity that day or maybe it was because I was so sick, but I was just about ready to call 911.  My butt was kicked....big time!  Trust me an hour was plenty long enough, but we have them for two...believe me...the words, "I told you so" were mentioned more than once.  Well, somehow, I made it through and got back to the entrance to the park.  We were both so hot and tired.  We found us an AC bar.  I ordered a Michelob Ultra and I swear, I drank it all in one gulp.  We had not really been checking our phones all afternoon, so Rich got his phone out.  He saw where Denny, our best friend, had been trying to call him.  He called him back.  Denny asked where we were and Rich said Central Park.  Denny said, "Get back now...the kids are getting married NOW".  We hopped on the nearest subway and got back as soon as we could.  There were other people they were waiting on too, so we weren't the last ones to get there.  We showered and put on our good clothes and went down to the lobby of the Hotel.  The Hotel had a room that the kids used to get married.  It wasn't even close to what Lauren had planned and dreamed of, but every place they had rented was being shut down and closed by noon on Saturday.  In fact, we had to evacuate the Hotel first thing in the morning.  The wedding was beautiful, because all the people that mattered were there.  My friend Janet, the Mother of the Bride, sang a song to her daughter that night and it was beautiful.  The end result was that they were married and that is all that mattered.
   The next morning we got up and evacuated to uptown NYC by Times Square.  The Marriott had rooms for us, so we were lucky.  Now we just had to wait and see what hurricane Irene had in store for us.  Once the public transportation shuts down...NYC becomes a ghost town.  The only thing that was on the roads were the yellow cabs.  They shut down almost all the stores and restaurants.  They had to send their workers home before the subways closed or they couldn't get home.  We found a small bar/restaurant called the Pig and Whistle...they were selling Hurricanes for $6 and I think they packed more of a wallop than Irene did.  One of them and I was laughing a whole lot more.  We all went to bed that night wondering what the night and morning would hold for us.  Rich and I were up bright and early at 6:30.  We both went to the window as if it were Christmas morning, wondering what we would see.  When you are downtown New York and in a high rise, its hard to get a good perspective of the storm, but from where we were sitting....back in Indiana, we saw alot worse.  We never heard any thunder or saw any lightning.  There was no hail either...yes it rained hard at times and the wind seemed to be blowing hard at times, but nothing seemed that bad.  It had passed over NY by 9:00am and Rich and I and the Weber's decided to survey the damage.  Well, we walked to the Hudson river and all over the city, but the only thing I saw was a small branch, a broken umbrella and I stepped in a big puddle of water.  So, we survived Hurricane Irene...it was an adventure to say the least.  I can now say I have been evacuated and saw a hurricane up close and personal.  Life is all about making the most of the situation that you are in.  All of us were in the same boat.  We just put on our life vests and kept on paddling.  We got our couple married and toasted their marriage.  We ate their wedding cupcakes and shared a memorable experience with them.  They are a great couple and I know it wasn't what they had planned, but they were brave and gracious and made the most of their special moment.

   We left for home on Monday as planned...no problems at the airport.  Home seemed a little bit sweeter this time and getting back to normal sounds awfully good.

Premature...

pre-ma-ture  adj. Occurring, born, done, or existing prior to the customary, correct or assigned time, early.
   This week a premature death occurred.  A young woman of body and spirit, left this earth "prematurely".  When you are young, or as I think of people now, in their 60's, it is just too soon to be thinking about death, but this week, that reality hit home for me.  She was my age and didn't look a day over 50.  She was health conscious and loved life.  She loved God and spoke of him often.  I know she is in a good place now, but I feel sad for all of us that knew her.  We are still here, with many unanswered questions...all her questions are answered.  I am glad I had I got to know her for the short time that I did.  I hope someday, when it is my turn to get my questions answered, someone will look back on my life and say that I made a difference, that I made someone laugh or think.  That I made a difference in my family's life and that I left something behind that will be remembered always.
   I was born at a time when smoking was acceptable, even on an airplane.  Seat belts were thought of as a bother and car seats for children were our Mom's laps or the arm rest in the car.  Telephones were the only high tech thing we had and it was attached to the wall and had words as the first part of the number.  My old number was: Hyatt 8-6468.  Isn't that funny that I still remember that?  We also were on a party line with our neighbors down the road.  Parking had a whole new meaning when I was growing up.  It wasn't in a lot, but down our favorite dirt road.  Going to a gas station was a pleasant experience.  Someone came out to our car, washed our windows, filled our gas tanks, all for about $5....wow, I can't even believe that.   We had our Happy Day hangout with a jukebox and you knew everyone that came in.  In the summertime we had the Root Beer stand where I worked.  It was the social hangout for everyone and cruising around with the windows down was what everyone did.  Yes, it is true my life is over half over, but that first half was really something special and I wouldn't trade it for anything.  The second half is so much different than the first.  I have made a family and now my family is at the center of all my memories.  My mission now, is to leave behind me my footprints that they can follow and always remember.