A Long and Happy Life

The candles will be blown out and put away. The lights will be wrapped up and packed in a box. The Santa's, snowmen and angels will be tucked safely in tissue paper, high on a shelf in the attic. The tree will be set out for the birds to nest in.

The Christmas decorations are gone until next year.

But the image of the dozens of shoes lined up down the fifteen foot hall at my in-law’s house will stick in my mind all year long – a reminder of the long and happy life they have enjoyed. With seven children, four daughters-in-law and three sons-in-law, a foster daughter and her husband, eighteen grandchildren and twelve great-grandchildren; amazingly, all but four were present over the Christmas holiday season.

Which explains the long, long row of boots and shoes in this picture – and why I have given this blog post its title.



A long and happy life.

When all is said and done, and we have to look back on the accomplishments in our life, we need look no farther.

May you have a long and happy life.

The Grandma Shirt

She wrinkles up her nose. She glares at me with eyes that spell out the word “eeww”.

No, Mickey doesn’t like the same clothes I like. And when I try to show her something classic, she makes the same face at me. “That looks like a grandma shirt,” she says.

I’m not in the dark about fashion. I know what people are wearing. I know what’s in and what’s out. But I also know what I like and don’t like. I don’t like shirts that are skin tight. I don’t like jeans that are so low cut that a person has to make sure they have coordinating undergarments on. After all, I grew up in the era where girls tried to make sure their bra straps didn’t show.

I do like the classic, uncomplicated clothes. Sweatshirts. Jeans. Cardigan sweaters and roomy t’s.

Last winter I found myself picking up and contemplating the purchase of an awesome navy blue sweatshirt with a snowman appliqué on it. After my inner voices wrestled back and forth with themselves about the shirt, my younger self won. I couldn’t force myself to buy it.

Because my mom wears shirts like that.

Yesterday I spotted a red sweatshirt with Christmas trees appliquéd on the front. I picked it up. I liked it. I put it back down. I walked around the store one more time.

I thought to myself, “You are a grandma, for heaven’s sakes. Buy the darn shirt.”

Yes, I have come to realize that you get to a point in your life where you finally admit to yourself that it’s okay to dress as you like, wear your hair as you like – and quit using the Loving Care.

I’m not quite there yet – but I can feel it coming.

And I’m kind of okay with that – kind of.

Trust Your Heart

The air was frigid. It was one of the coldest days so far this winter. As we got closer to the stop light, we saw two gentlemen standing by the curb, the wind chill literally taking their breath away. A piece of cardboard, cut from a box, had writing on it, scrawled with a black magic marker. The light turned red.

With my car slowly rolling to a stop, I was able to make out the words “Please, we need money for bus tickets,” and “God bless you”.

The driver in the car ahead of me opened his window and handed them money.

In an instant, I turned and grabbed for my purse. My thick, glove-covered hands pulled a ten dollar bill out of my wallet. By now the light had turned green. I glanced in my rear view mirror and could see about four cars behind me. Tugging on the window switch, it made its way down. At the same time, I slowly pulled ahead and thrust the ten dollar bill out of the window as my car neared one of the gentlemen.

He took the money and said “God bless you ma’am”. I nodded to him and drove off.

As we rounded the corner, Mickey turned to me and said, “Didn’t that feel good?” I agreed with her. It felt really good.

I don’t know how many of the subsequent cars behind me followed suit, but I know at least one did. I don’t know if these gentlemen really needed bus tickets or not, but I didn’t care.

Then turning back to Mickey I said, “It doesn’t really matter what they wanted the money for. What matters is that we trusted our heart.”