A Special Time Now Added To Our Memories

This is long overdue, it has been 3 months since I wrote anything on this and yet thoughts run through my mind continuously. I tell myself I need to get a post in, and poof another day, week month go by.

This weekend we are finally feeling recovered from a 2 + week trip . I don’t quite understand why we feel so kind of out of it when we get back, but we do. We left here April 11 and headed to Virginia Beach for a week. We had rented a condo that was maybe 500 feet from the boardwalk, so it was close to walk to, yet not “oceanfront”. It was a nice week as far as weather went, our condo was on the 9th floor, so we could see above a lot of buildings and watch as life flowed to and fro. The weather was warm for the most part, 70s during the day and high 50s to 60 at night. The resort had 2 elevators, one that was under repair for our first 5 days there. That made traveling 9 floors rather testing of ones patience, as everyone on all the floors knew when it stopped, regardless of if it was going up or down, you want to get on it . There was one time I bet 20 people came out of the elevator on the first floor.On Weds afternoon elevator 2 was up and running and boy what a difference.

Even with the long waits, we really enjoyed or stay. We walked the boardwalk , we walked the sand beach one day, went to the Virginia Beach Aquarium and took a Dolphin excursion.

All of our journeys were very enjoyable. I had not spent much time in Virginia beach in the past, and found it to be like 2 different cities. During the day is was kind of quiet, but at night time it livened up with restaurants and cafes drawing in people and outdoor musical events, and groups of people just laughing and enjoying life as they strolled the sidewalks.

Through it all, I was once again reminded that I am not as young as I was once, and each step is precious. The one time I was reminded was when we had gone down to the pool and jacuzzi one afternoon, and the steps into the jacuzzi had some sort of very slippery film on them. I carefully put one leg down the first step,( not knowing of this slippery film, I was deliberately hanging onto the railing, only to have that foot slip down 2 more steps, while my other leg was still up on the deck. All I can say is that’s the first time I ever did a perfect split, yep legs totally straight out. I asked Mark to hand me my shower shoe, I carefully reached down and put it on the flying foot, then the other foot, and somehow got my hips and legs realigned to the position they are normally in. The water was refreshing, and surprisingly I recuperated without too many muscle pains after a couple of days.

The next week we headed to OBX ( The Outer Banks) , which was year 2 of sharing a week with Jeff, Amanda, and the 3 grandkids at a home on the ocean.

Surprisingly the weather was cooler that next week, but that did not stop the magic of the waves as they slapped against the shore, or the incredible moments shared with everyone. Jeff and Amanda arranged for professional photos to be done down there, and it was such a neat experience to see how the photographer worked to make the hour photoshoot so much fun. Every evening was family game night, where we battled each other in a variety of games. We were there to see the April Pink full moon which was totally neat! The house had a recreation room where many shuffleboard battles occurred. There was a pool and hot tub, of which I did take a soak in the hot tub, it was a cold evening and the water felt soooo refreshing. And I didn’t have to display another Olympic split !

During the day we each separated for a bit and explored areas that interested each of our family units, and we joined together later in the day. It seemed like the week flew by , yet it also was so many treasured moments that could not have happened without a week.

Family is important and in this world of virtual communication and tight schedules, it seems like the personal touch and communication ties become lost in virtuality. It is so much easier to send a text and let the person read it in their convenience then to pick up the phone and speak to one another. I am guilty of that , I don’t want to bother anyone if they are busy, so I shoot out a text. Life seems to sometimes get lost in our to dos and it’s easy to lose touch of what is really important, relationships and communication, sharing of ones time, sitting and talking without worrying about where to be.

So weeks like this are so nice. Mark and I enjoy the apartment life, but when we travel it is different, as we are both headed to a common ground, to unknowns, to see what we run across along the way.

I have to remember to cherish every moments, for there are so many more in my rearview mirror then what lies ahead on my road of life.

Be good to one another, take a deep breath before you speak, be kind and until later , take care. ! Mrs Justa alias Cindy

 

Lessons in life continued…..

After living in that house in Skaneateles, my parents rented a home in Spafford. At the time my sister Karen was in high school and my sister Pam and I were in elementary school . I remember the bus ride from the house to Skaneateles to this house was about super long. In this picture there is a small window on the left of us, that was the bathroom window. I remember that bathroom window because I remember some mornings running into the bathroom and not coming out until I saw the bus go by. That did cause a tad bit of disappointment with my mom because we didn’t have a second car, and I chose to have to go to the bathroom on days when my dad was gone for work.

On most days mom was aware of my little urgent need for the bathroom. I really didn’t like school for so many reasons, but in the winter it was worse. It was a challenge some days to get to the bus in the winter. We got ALOT of snow, huge amounts. We had a long steep driveway, and in good weather it seemed like forever to a young child, but add a super slippery driveway and it got new meaning to challenging with all the snow. I look back now and realize that Spafford helped me learn to trust in things I had no control over. Let me explain.

This is the driveway now, it is the same steep driveway I remember, just the house is now updated a lot. So our bus driver would always pull to the foot of the driveway, turn on the blinkers and we were supposed to get down to the bus as quickly as possible. The bus driver realized we were having trouble when the driveway was super icy. Sometimes we would have a woman bus driver instead of the man I wasn’t too fond of, and she would have the bus aide and herself stand outside the bus, she would let us know when she was ready and one by one we would sit on our book bag, holding onto the sides of it really tightly, and slide down the driveway, hoping she would catch us, because if not we were going under the bus. Fortunately we didn’t have to do this on too many days, as sometimes we could carefully walk down on the very edge, but when the edge was not an option we totally trusted her, trusted that we would get caught. This is a blind faith, a trust in something I had no real control over, it was fun in a scary sort of way. Neither of us ever hit our heads on the bus, so it was a win win. Getting back up to the house after school was a different challenge, but we did it.

I also remember that this house taught me about being able to make the best use of the land, and canning. Being we didn’t have a 2nd car, my mom and dad put in a garden. it provided enough veggies for canning. Mom had a shelf in the cellar with canned vegetables, pickles, and tomato sauce and pasta sauce. It also was the house where my older sister, Pam and I carefully would walk down to Fesco’s farm and get fresh milk in rather heave aluminum containers that we had. I remember the milk very fresh, kinda warm…., it was how we got our milk.

I also learned that I could do what I felt was impossible. We weren’t allowed to ride down the long driveway for obvious reasons, but I learned to ride my bike on the grass in the back of the house. That was kind of tough keeping my balance on uneven grass, but I tried and tried, and mom and dad would encourage me not to give up, I learned I can do things I put my mind to. A lesson that has followed me through the years.

I also remember learning about obeying my parents when they told me to stay put. We had a dog whose name was Whitey. She was a large whitish collie, she was a really special dog. Very very protective of us as we played outside, and we tried to keep her tied up on a chain/ leash. Well this one day I remember dad asking where Whitey was, we all started calling her name, we went outside, and called her name. All of the sudden dad seemed like he heard something and he told us to go inside, and he got our neighbor, and started to walk down the road. I snuck outside, and leaned against our fence, watching curiously as my dad and Mr Call walked towards the road. From what I could see, they went to the side of the road, and I watched them lean over a white mound on the edge of the road. Our neighbor then pulled out his gun and shot at this mound. I realized it was Whitey he shot. I ran inside, screaming and crying, I couldn’t understand what happened. I also realize looking back that I really should have just listened to my dad and stayed in the house. The end result was our dog was dead, but I would not have seen all I saw. It was terrifying. When Dad came back to the house, he and Mr Call had Whitey in their arms. Dad said he was sorry I had to see that, and that was why he told us to go in the house. He told us that as we called Whiteys name, what he heard was the sounds from Whitey crying. Dad said someone hit her with their car and she was bleeding , she had lost a lot of blood, and they knew she was not able to get to the vet. To try to help us deal with it all, dad asked if any of us wanted to come out and see where we want to have her buried. I did go out, so did Pam and Karen, and we buried her under the tree she loved to lie under. We didn’t live in the house for too long after that, between the winters, the distance to school, having the one car and the walk along that road for milk, our parents found a rental in Skaneateles , in a different area than the first scary house. I will share that in a different post.

Life brings up so many lessons, some we don’t even realize what they are until years later. But each one, they help to create the adults we become. I think some of the things I learned in Spafford, faith in what I could not see me being able to accomplish, listening, obeying, trust, loss and attempting to redirect the sorrow…..I think they have helped me as the years have passed.

I hope you have some happy moments, create some pleasant memories, Until later, Mrs. Justa alias Cindy

 

From The Pondering Mind of Child

Recently we had a special weekend with the grandkids. For part of the weekend, we split into two groups. Mark was doing one on one time with the boys and Briella and I went on a journey. Mark and I both had some projects we wanted to “hire” out, things that were neat to watch be done, and see the creativity and thought process of the grandchildren and not us, and in the meantime a way for the kids to take on some tasks for hire.

My journey with Briella started with a trip to a cemetery about 20 minutes away. The task was she was to take a major role in adding flowers to my parent’s grave. We had no idea what cleaning, scrubbing, or weeding would be required, but whatever was needed she was the girl for the job.

When we got there, Briella had some flowers that she was in charge of designing and how to put them around the headstone. We talked about the plans and stopped at the dollar store for a scrub brush and cleaning spray, and then we were off on our mission number one.

When we got there she was so precious, so intent on making the arrangement look welcoming, loving, and special. I let her lay the flowers out and decide just how they should be.

As she was placing them she read the headstone, the dates of birth and death, and their names, and asked some questions about them. She asked about my mom and dad, and what were they like. It was truly one of those times memories are made of.

It was cool talking to her and watching her as she created the final arrangement.

And once she had them just right, they looked beautiful, she made sure they did not cover their names, yet accented their special lives.

We had such a nice talk, and as we were getting ready to leave, we spoke about other headstones there. She started reading names and checked to see if the family had written things on the headstone other than names. She was amazed at the dates, some back in the 17 and 18 hundreds. Some had so many children’s names on them, some with just one or two names on them.

As she read some and we talked about the different headstones, she said so profoundly, ” Gramma these are really all our relatives!” We are all related in a way, aren’t we? ” As I thought about it, if we look back at Adam and Eve, well I guess we are in some way we are all brothers and sisters, we are all family.

We drove through slowly, we saw a headstone with a crane on it, another with memories of the wars people fought in, wars that are mentioned in history books, but seeing a stone and a name and the war they partook in, it made it kind of 3 dimensional.

Our trip, my goal for her task, was meant to be one on a positive note, one that we could share time, no doom and gloom at all, just a way for us to pretty up the place my parents are. And it became so much more than that, as we explored and pondered what people were like, what they did. She was so prophetic so gentle, so innocent, so loving.

Through the mind of a young girl, we had such a memorable time.

Until later, Mrs Justa alias Cindy