Half a Century

Fifty years ago on a cold January night at 11:30, I arrived- all 6+ pounds. And as I celebrate this day, my thoughts are these: tremendous gratitude and acceptance of mortality.
In one of my favorite books/movies, The Thorn Birds, Father Ralph quotes the bible: Man's days are like the grass; the wind blows and he is gone." In accepting that I, like everyone else, will one day be gone from this life, I am able to appreciate the days I have- today and all the years past. And in remembering, there is so much to be thankful for- so many, many gifts.
On one very memorable trip to Washington, we camped near Mt. Rainier. As I lay looking up at the millions of stars spilled across the inky darkness- more than I had ever seen before- I remember thinking :This is enough. If I have no more days, just this moment has made it worthwhile.
The path has not always been straight on my journey, yet I am grateful for the times I lost my way. What wisdom I have was most learned during those times.
And if I do live another 50 years, while I would love to see more of this earth, meet new friends, and welcome new family members, my greatest gift will continue to be my simple life, at home, with my best friend and all of the furry people who share our lives.
Thank you Jim, for everything. To Mom and Dad, Greg, Brian, Michael, Julie and Scott, my growing up family, thank you for your love and tolerance (especially Greg!). To Peter and Heidi and to Leah, my children, all my love. To Ashley, Autumn, Aaron and little Kayden, I am so thankful for you and blessed to have you. To Kurt and Leah, Beth, Billie, and SB- you are treasures and I value your wisdom and friendship so much. To Winnie, Lady, Mistie, PK, Nell (Frizzle), Shackleton, Sammy, Tabitha, Annie, Ernie, Patrick, Jeffrey, Nutmeg, Charlie and Stuart, you make my days happy. To Jessie, love forever. And most of all, thank you to the Creator and Source of all that is good and holy, for this simple life.

Gramma's Joy

Little Kayden had just had a bath and a warm bottle today and was off to sleep and grow. At 3 weeks, he changes daily. In the past week he is better able to see faces; during his bottle today he was looking at me. (I took the opportunity to tell him that this was Gramma and she is the one who will give him ANYTHING he wants!) Kayden isn't a fussy baby and even his cry is mild- not shrill like some babies. But this is not to say that he is quiet. I call him my little squeaky boy because he makes all kinds of cute noises. When I am talking to Heidi on the phone I can hear him making his little sounds, which just tickle me; if I can't see him I can at least hear him! He is filling out more- today I noticed his little wrists are rounder and I may have noticed just the beginning of a second chin. In his sleep he would randomly move his hands- such tiny, perfect little fingers. As I held him today I thought of his Gramma Tammy and how proud she would be of our little grandson.

Quiet Winter Afternoon

I am where many people in Columbus probably wish they were today: at home on the couch, looking out. It is the quintessential winter day, beautiful in its quiet white softness. Snow has been falling since early daylight, large puffs sliding down from the smokey-blue- gray sky. Everything is snow-covered. From where I sit, I can see the cap over the bird feeder with a smooth mound of about 3 inches of white. Inside, the furnace hums softly, and the cuckoo clock ticks away the afternoon. Nell on my lap, Mistie beside me, Winnie on her quilt, and Annie, Shackleton and Oliver- in descending levels on the cat tree-all nap.

When I hear or read of someone spending a whole day just being lazy, reading in their pajamas or watching movies, it sounds deliciously decadent and I think "I should try that!" However, my nature/comfortable behavior pattern is to be doing. As Jim says, we all have our demons.

Today I have been successful- maybe because this rest is an attempt to heal hip pain that started a couple of days ago and got steadily worse. So maybe, even while resting, it is for a "purpose", not just to do it...Where IS that notebook where I jot down ideas for self improvement?.......

Miss Annie

Some time in late autumn, I noticed a previously unseen cat hanging around the drive we share with our neighbors. Most of the time the cat spent time in their garage. As I left for work one morning, I noticed some of our dishes out along the drive, one with cat food and one with water...Apparently Jim had seen the cat too.
On a couple of occasions I was able to coax the kitty over, tapping the ground and calling. She would slowly and cautiously walk over and allow me to pet her but never stayed long. The only "identification" she had was a flee collar.
A week or so went by and our neighbor and I were out at the same time. She said, "Have you seen our new cat?" I said I had. She went on to say that they would provide food and shelter in their garage, but the cat would not be permitted inside. Hmmm.
One very cold, windy early November day I couldn't help but think of the little cat outside, all alone. I went over to the garage (the door is always left open) and found the cat lying on top of a mattress, the wind blowing her fur, which had become dirty. It was at that moment I decided to commit cat burglary. I coaxed her down from the mattress by offering honey ham, all the while expecting the neighbors to pull up and find me mid-theft. They did not, and I was able to bring the cat inside and down the basement, shutting the door to keep the other animals away. I quickly discovered that her flee collar was doing nothing- lots of little flees had taken up residence. I could also tell that this cat, wherever she had come from, was not an outside cat. She just didn't have the coat to withstand the winter weather. Feeling just a little guilty, I called Jim to confess my deed, knowing he would say what he did: "Good!"
I fretted about how to hide her from the neighbors, as they would see her in the window. But I also didn't know how to explain that I had stolen their cat. They returned home later that day, and I knocked on their back door. I said that I had been worried about the cat being outside and had put her in our basement...and they were thrilled! Turns out they really didn't want her to begin with. And so we headed to the vet and checked for a microchip. (I was hoping we may have found a lost friend who could be returned to her owner.) There was no chip and no postings at any of the local sites describing this little girl, who I decided should be called Annie. She is small and there was no doubt that she was a little girl, who needed a feminine name. In the last couple of months, Annie has been defloused, immunized, and spayed. In between, she has found her place at home and is a loved member at the Schneider Animal Cottage.

In Love

Hard as it is to believe, it has been 25 years since I held a newborn who was "my" baby and felt that overwhelming love for this little person. My little grandson has brought that baby love back into my life. It is a total joy to hold him against my heart and to smell his sweet baby head under my chin. When we pick him up, his little bottom sticks out as he tucks his legs under him and it is just the cutest thing ever. I love watching him drink his bottle, his small hands curled next to his face as his little cheeks work away.
Today Jim and I got to watch him while his daddy worked and Heidi got a few hours sleep, as Mr. Kayden is playing his newborn role quite well, sleeping soundly all day and reserving awake or fussy times for the night hours.
Now it is my child instead of me who walks the floor at 3AM. I have been promoted to Gramma status and I am loving every minute.