My Family Christmas 2012

This Christmas calls for something a little different. Last year Mom could not make it to our family celebration. She passed away in March. Luckily, the family did go visit Mom after our usual dinner and Chinese Gift Exchange last year, which resulted in a family photograph. Most of us had not seen this photograph until last night's family get-together. Tina and Renick gave us each a copy of this family photo. It was unexpected and truly the best gift of all. 

After Mom passed away, I decided I wanted to host the family Christmas gathering this year. I have not had a tree in many years, so I wanted to have a real one. Because of a hip replacement the day before Thanksgiving, I had to start prepping for the gathering early.  Cynthia and I  made sure my home was decorated prior to surgery. This task got more complicated when her hand got caught in a conveyer belt right before we were supposed to decorate. She said between the two of us we did not make a whole person, but we gotter done. We laughed and cried going through Mom's boxes to find her favorite decorations: a ceramic tree she had for many years, an angel and a wreath she hung on her door to name a few items.

My sister and her husband had given Mom a flower arrangement in a sled one year. She loved it and kept it on a table long after the roses faded. I took it to a florist  who made an arrangment exactly like the original. I used it as the centerpiece on the dining table.

A couple of weeks before the dinner, Timmy and Sara met Cynthia and I at a tree farm where we picked out my tree. They brought a wheelchair along so I was able to be wheeled into the field to help find the right tree. Now I know why Mom would be frightened at times in her chair. Not being the driver, you feel very vulnerable to a tip over.

Timmy put the tree up. Sara is the light specialist. She and Cynthia put the decorations on the tree. I did the ooowing and ahhhing. Cynthia had an ornament made for each of us to put on our trees in memory of Mom.

We added a few of my own..

Friday night the 3 sisters and a niece had a girl's night. We watched a movie, laughed, cried. Marsha had us in stitches "smoking" a chocolate hazelnut Pirouline.

The next morning the girls had breakfast together before getting busy to ready things for the arrival of the rest of the family. Once everyone had arrived, we gathered in the living room as I had asked everyone to bring a memory of Mom.  Mom had attempted to revive her family tradition of reading the Christmas Story from the 2nd chapter of Luke. I quickly teared up, so Marsha, calmed by Paxill, did the reading from a Bible given to my grandmother Christmas Day, 1960.

I then read a verse from a Christmas card Cynthia gave to Mom in 1993. Mom had written a note on the card:
"Today I want you to read this to all present. It is so nice. '93."  Next I passed out to each sibling a booklet sent by our brother in California.  It is a very thoughtfully put together snapshot history of our mother and father.

I gave Mom  a book in 1997 that gave her the opportunity to record her history. Each page asked a question. She did not complete every page, but she did provide us with some information we did not know about her and some laughter. For example: the wedding dress in the photograph on the front page of my brother's booklet was made by her mother.  She was delivered by a midwife. The house Mom was born in, we learned last night, is probably the house Sara's mother lives in now.

I also gave copies of an oil painting I did of our mother from a black and white photograph that I believe is her college graduation picture.

Others shared their memories of Mom. With 6 kids in our family, there are lots of stories to share. We then sat down for our Christmas dinner. You can tell I was not myself as there are no food photos.

We always finish up with a Chinese Gift Exchange. The surprise gift this year was opened by Tina. She actually loves Baby Babu.

Sometimes you get what you want...

Thanks to my family for a wonderful evening. Thanks, Mom, for so many wonderful memories. Merry Christmas everyone.

New Year 2012

New Year's Eve this year is the best for me in a long time. Twelve good friends got together at the invitation of Mss Gail and Mr. John. I always love being in the land of milk and honey so where but here would I want to spend New Year's Eve? We all shared in the cooking, some of it at the direction of Miss Gail.

Of course, the Master Gravy

Maker needs no direction.

There is always an outdoor fire going and we all end up here off and on during the day/night.

There are musicians in our group that kept us entertained while we waited for the midnight hour.

New Year's Day my family had our family Christmas celebration. Amond other things, we did a tribute to Toby Keith with the red solo cups. Sadly, this was the first year ever that our mother was not able to join us. After dinner, we took the celebration to her. Her smile was the best present ever.

Thanksgiving 2011

Thanksgiving, for me, is always a time to relax and get ready for Christmas. Wait, did I say "relax" and "get ready for Christmas" in the same sentence? Okay, it is a busy time. Real busy. But fun. And that can, end the end, make you feel like you relaxed a bit. At least for me. 2011 was a really good Thanksgiving for me.

I relaxed while pretending to play the guitar I had just purchased.

My sister decorated her tree...always beautiful.

Cynthia and I went shopping for ingredients needed for all the cakes we would give away at Christmas. The grocery store is always fun during the holidays. They have more than food to entice you.

Shopping is always hard on me. I don't like it. What I do like is finding an interesting place to take a break. I have a hard time focusing when I shop so I need lots of fun breaks.

Once we had all the supplies we needed,we went home and started baking.

What would the holiday be without some Mom time?

I'm thinking life is pretty good.

Back to the Past-What Influences Linger?

Theresa, my cousin, has been reading my blog. We knew each other growing up, but have only seen each other once in the last…??...umpteen years. In fact, I last saw her two years ago, just two days before I moved to St. Thomas. We made a good connection that day and she has since followed me through my blogs. Last week Theresa invited me to come for a visit. All of you know I said yes. Theresa loves animals. She has scaled down. Theresa has 4 dogs, 2 turkeys, some chickens and 2 birds with a huge vocabulary that cracked me up.

Theresa and I decided to take a drive. First stop, Falling Springs Falls, a favorite stop. Theresa and I drove to Hot Springs to have lunch at Sam Snead’s Tavern only to learn they do not serve lunch. No problem. We were already heavy into conversation, so where we ate did not matter. We drove a little further north to Cucci’s where we found a table that allowed for some private conversation.
Theresa and I shared lots of life stories and noticed how similar our lives have been. I was most fascinated to learn about Granny, my paternal grandmother. I was very close to Maw Maw, my maternal grandmother, but  have few memories of Granny. I learned from Theresa's stories how much I missed  not knowing her. We looked at old photographs.
My favorite: a photo of my great, great grandfather, Dennis Denslow Murphy, born in Ireland in 1825. He came to America at age 12. He fought for the South in the Civil War. He died in 1905 and is buried in WV. Theresa has a wonderful piece hanging in her home of her mother and father at different times in their life. She gave many photos to the artist she commissioned and asked only that the painting tell a story. What a wonderful thing to have.

Theresa lives in Alleghany County, which is where we grew up. There is a long stretch of land on the Jackson River that has been in my family for many years. A large part of my childhood summers were spent on the banks of that river. Theresa’s house is built on this property. Just behind her house lies the river. We took her dogs for a romp along the river and Theresa showed me her favorite summer morning spot. There is a small cement area where she puts an old glider. From here, she enjoys the rocky cliff on the other side and the sound of the rapids. Her little piece of heaven.

Another wonderful thing Theresa has is a barn. It is old and starting to sag. I remember horses in the pasture that is now Theresa’s yard. I used to walk there after school with carrots for the horses. Because the barn has been there since before my time, it never occurred to me that there was a time when it did not exist. So, it never occurred to me that someone had to put it there. Theresa explained to me that person was our grandfather. Gone are the horses and the pasture that are so much a part of what defined my world as a child. But the barn still stands. Now it stands for more than I ever knew.
We drove to the part of the property that belonged to my father so I could see the section where I played with my brothers, sisters and cousins. Where we swam and played in the river endlessly. Where we had cookouts. Where we built fires and roasted marshmallows and camped out under the stars. I did not recognize anything except the large rock that allowed us to anchor in the water. It seems closer to shore than I remember. The water is so clear. Emy memory of those events is gone. The river bank is no longer manicured by my father and the fields are no longer his garden. The fireplace he built is gone. The shed is gone. Sadly, there is no physical evidence of what was once such a significant place in my life. Standing there, the tapes rolled in my head like an old movie playing in black and white. Only I was in it. Barefoot. Running. Laughing. I wanted to cry.

This morning Theresa left early for church. I was not ready to leave her, but I promised to return very soon. I want to know more of the woman she has become and to catch glimpses of the little girl I knew. Before heading home, I decided to see what more I could find of my childhood.

I drove up the hill to see the house I grew up in. My mom sold it several yeas ago and the current owners have taken good care of it. But look, a for sale sign.

I drove through the neighborhood and noticed the pine grove where we caught the school bus does not even have a pine tree anymore.

So I drove to the pine grove at our neighbor’s house where we spent a lot of time high above the ground spying on people and having secret meetings. No way we could climb those trees now. Everything changes, nothing stays the same…not even the pine groves.
Determined to find something familiar, I decided to retrace the drive to my elementary school. First, I checked out another old swimming hole under a bridge by Theresa's house. We used to have to make our way down the hill on a narrow path to get to the river. Now it seems one only has to drive up on the other side and walk down a set up steps. I think that is cheating.

I stopped to see the swinging bridge, which has been repaired over the years. The second I started walking across the bridge, I felt the childhood fear I had experienced. It was just there. I started walking, the bridge started swaying as I was transformed back in time to that little girl with a ponytail, scared but determined to make it to the other side. Then and now. The journey is always worth it because of what you experience along the way.

I went by Falling Spring Elementary School. The little two room school house is gone. The original structure of the main brick building is gone. Did they wrap this new thing around it? Where did it all go? The only thing I recognize is the stone wall holding back the hillside from the road and the stone steps that led to the front of the schoolhouse. I remember a May Day celebration when I sat on those steps. I walked around the building straining to find something familiar. Nothing. Except….the road.
Ah, the road. Still so familiar. I let it take me home. Suddenly I realize the river and the mountains, especially the mountains, are more significant to me than all the things I did not find in my search for the familiar today. The mountains and the river provided the backdrop for my past. They are the unwavering constants. They are what call me back when I wander.