May Your Memories Be Yellow

It's been a long time.

I hadn't realized how long until I was asked if

I was still blogging.

Funny...

I wasn't sure anyone ever read this.

November is a hard month.

My Grandma died 3 yrs ago.

She was my yellow Grandma.

I don't mean yellow as in cowardly or jaundice.

I mean yellow as in her favorite color.

This was my Grandma's house.

Yellow.

When I was little it was red.

And HUGE.

The hallway upstairs was REALLY wide.

The bed I slept in when we stayed here had a "roof on it".

Great fun for a little girl.

Gratefully it's still in the family and still yellow.

The day it becomes something else will break my heart.

This house was made to be yellow.

Now this is not my Grandma's actual kitchen but the cabinets are right.

The kitchen was bright yellow for years.

When they left they went to live with my Hollyhock aunt.

She's now living with Grandma.

I'm pretty sure there is Chicken Tuesday in Heaven.

My Grandma had a little yellow Ford Pinto like this.

I loved this little car.

Bucket seats, hatchback... VERY cool for a Grandma.

She almost killed my sister and me in this car once. :)

We camped at White Crane with her every summer.

On the way back from town we'd stop at the damn to check the gates.

OH how she would have been fascinated by the water pouring from them this summer!

Anyway... She pulled in and forgot to put it in park. I flew from the back seat

when the car hit the pylon.

It was funny then. It's funnier now...

Funny how the first flowers a child brings you is yellow... 

I sent yellow roses during Caring Rose week for years.

Just because...

Yellow is spring...

Renewal...

Life...

Beauty...

My maternal Grandma had a chair like this.

It seemed to be a fight in her little bitty kitchen which of us

would sit on that chair.

I got a yellow one.

And then I made her match Daisy...

When I was able to order my mixer there

was no doubt I'd have yellow.

Yellow...

Thanks to my sister I have a new obsession.

Temp-Tations stoneware.

While my kitchen won't be yellow.

I have no doubt because of my memories of Grandma's yellow kitchen

you'll see a great deal of yellow in it.

November is a difficult month.

I had a horribly fractured family and hung on these memories

for all they were worth.

I hope in death my family is finding the peace and love

they didn't always have in life.

I'm pretty sure Grandma's heaven includes a yellow house...

with a yellow kitchen...

where she wears yellow clothes...

and crazy, sparkly socks,

and drives a little, yellow Pinto

to Chicken Tuesday's with HollyHock Aunt.

Thank you for my yellow memories...

Get Your BAKE On!

Just some things I've baked PD (Pre-Daisy).

Easter Sugar Cookies

Chocolate Chip Whoopies

Spider Cakes

Christmas 2010

My favorites

Rainbowlicious

So FUN!

Plain ole white

Pinkalicious

Whopper

Caramel filled dark chocolate

Triple chocolate Zebra cheesecake

Red velvet

TURKEY!

Sour Cream Pound Cake

PW's Cinnamon Rolls

Cream Cheese Icing

Pecan Pie bars, Red Velvet Crackles, Sr Cream Pound Cake

and homemade peanut butter cups

Oatmeal Fudge Bars

4 Berry Crumble

TIKI!

Dr. Seuss Cupcakes

Foot cookies

1st stacked cake

Sofi's Candy Bar

Let the Train Come

How often do your crises come?
How often do you feel like a failure?
Is your life NOW what you expected?
Mine's not...

It's taken a LONG time to admit that.
Is this what a mid-life crisis feels like?
How come I was so sure at 19 where
I wanted to be when I was 40?
How come now that I'm 40, am I no longer
sure where I wanna be?

My sister told me last night I turned out all right.
That felt laughable when she said it.
Failure was HUGE last night.
It's been a very long time since I cried myself to sleep.

Why can't 1 day BE Freaky Friday?
Why can't you give your memories to your child for just 1 day?
Would they learn from your mistakes?
Would they understand your only regret?

I had to let go of 1 last year.
She's doing so good.
I didn't give her enough credit.

I have to let go of 3 more this year.
I'm not as confident.
I see the trainwreck of regret baring down on 1.
Do I sit back and just let the train come?

Will I always need to "get to" my kids?
Does that feeling EVER go away?
When they have their own?
This feeling has evolved in ways I least expected...

No more crying...
Sink or swim...
Forge ahead...
Trust in them...

If not Himself...

Life is funny.
I used to think I didn't want marriage.
I didn't want kids.
What a sense of humor God has.

Parker has been the child I least expected.
Why would I have a disabled child?
What did I ever do to deserve this?
It took awhile to realize it wasn't "done to me".

I'm pretty sure that this was done "for" me.
I had things to learn.
P became one of my biggest teachers.
I am grateful.

This was how P started.
All of 3.8lbs.
Not very healthy.
I was blissfully clueless - just glad they were alive...

We had no idea yet the struggles HE would face.

1996 and learning to sit.
2 years old.
Recently diagnosed.
TAILSPIN...

They were just babies.
Yet to be defined.
Creating their own normal.
Expressing their own personality.

I remember this day clearly.
He was so excited.
His sisters have taken such good care of him.
They'll never admit it though.

1st crutches at 4.
So cute.
So much determination.

7th summer.
Both legs broken.
Both hamstrings lengthened.
Not much in the party spirit.

By next summer we were on a bike.

In Junior High he ran track.

In High School he's wrestled.

He's been on the speech team.

He's now on National Honor Society.

We had NO idea here:

That we'd ever get to here:

The lyrics to the song My Way sum up how I feel about this boy.
Whatever we've asked...
Whatever he's chosen...
He's done it HIS WAY.

To think I did all that

And may I say not in a shy way
Oh no, oh no, not me
I did it my way


For what is a man what has he got
If not himself then he has not


To say the things he truly feels
And not the words of one who kneels
The record shows I took the blows
And did it my way

Somehow P became a man.
He did it on his own.
He created his normal.
And I am proud.