Emma Lou... We MissYou!

May 11, 1922 - November 13, 1989

http://www.thedashpoemmovie.com/

Things I Remember

She was many things to many people in her lifetime. She was a daughter, a helpmate, a mother to her three children, a pastor's wife, a camp cook, and a craft maker extraordinaire... She was my Grandma.

When I was nine years old my Grandma went to be with Jesus. I remember where I was the moment I was told and I remember her funeral service.

I remember the dress my sister wore that day- I don't know why.

I remember going to the grave side service after the funeral.

I remember that it had snowed and how cold I felt. I remember knowing that Grandma wouldn't be cold anymore.

I remember picking up some clay from her grave site. I took it back to Grandpa's house and put it in a plastic sandwich bag... For some reason I guess I thought Grandpa would want to have it. I never did give it to him...

I remember Grandma's steel gray hair and how she fixed it in an arrangement of large rolled curls in the back and how it gracefully "poofed" in the front. I remember watching Mom fix Grandma's hair one time when she couldn't physically do it herself.

I remember Grandma's brown eyes... In my memory they are very much the same as my mom's eyes. Sometimes they would kind of flash and spark when she caught us grand kids being "ornery".

I can remember her grin...it lit up her face, and crinkled her nose a bit.

I remember her voice (at least I think I can). I remember how she would speak with her "Kentuckian" accent. I can hear her now: "Now get on yonder before I take a switch to you!"

She had spunk!

Whenever I hear my Aunt Margie's voice I think of Grandma's. Their voices are similar to me. Somewhere there is a recording of Grandpa and Grandma singing at a camp meeting...I got to listen to it once...it made me smile.

I remember the perfume bottle collection she had displayed on hanging shelves in the bedroom.

I remember the little dressing table with a swiveling stool. I liked to spin around and 'round on that little stool. I also liked to "explore" the drawers in that little dressing table...I think that would have been considered "ornery" behavior.

I remember the way her feet looked in her sturdy, sensible shoes. I remember trying on her shoes and wondering if my feet would ever fill them. I haven't filled her shoes yet...no one could.

I remember when Grandma and Grandpa would come from Indiana to visit us in Wichita. They drove a big van...I think it was Grandpa's work van. Grandma would bring homemade gifts and canned goods. She never came empty handed. She was a Giver.

To those who knew Grandma better and longer than I did, these memories may seem trite or insignificant. But, they are the images my young mind grasped onto and I am proud to own them as some of my favorite memories.

Though a part of me has wished she could have stayed longer- that I could have known her better- that she could have seen her grandchildren grow into adults, and that she could have met her great- grandchildren... the other part of me knows she is in a far better place.

Someday, I will meet her there.

My Super Man...A Wife's Perspective

He doesn't wear blue tights and a red cape...usually.
And -as far as I know- he neither sneaks off to phone booths for stealthy wardrobe changes, nor has he been an ace newspaper reporter (unless the Herron counts). But, he is definitely a Super Man.

I remember when the opportunity arose for Mr M. to begin teaching...he was honestly a bit intimidated at the prospect. But God provided the strength so that he could go forward with confidence.

He works very hard to be the best seventh grade teacher he can be. He also moonlights as a College Professor, one night a week. He loves the students, and he loves his work- but it often leaves him mentally and physically exhausted.

My Super Man, is really very funny, and it is my opinion that his sense of humour keeps him going. He is also a gifted writer and is insanely witty and clever.
Sometimes I laugh at him...and sometimes he laughs at me, but most often we laugh together.

He is also kind and personable. He feels comfortable with people and he accepts people for who they are...even if they are what I would call "abrasive" (and it is a good thing too, because I can be abrasive).

He can listen for *hours (*literary exaggeration for effect) to me rant about this and that, and then, when I have finally finished my rampage, he often has some advice to impart regarding the particular situation. And, most often, (don't tell him I said so) he is right.

Now, I am not blinded by love; I realize that no person is perfect. My Mr. M is no exception. But he is a wonderful and loving husband. He is a godly and good example to me. I appreciate him very much...even when he doesn't pick up his socks.

My Hot Date...

Mr. M and me out on the Town...

We went to one of our favorite places, Panera Bread Co. The breeze was crisp and cool - it was a perfect night to sit out on the patio, relax and enjoy hot soup and warm bread.

Foosball and Billiards

This past Sunday night we were invited to the Bailey's Home. We had a wonderful time visiting, eating tasty treats, and playing games...It was so much fun!

Here, Mr. M and James feverishly battle...

...My brother and Jared. I pinch-hit for my brother half way through and we beat 'em...bad!

Mr. M trying his luck at another game...Now he knows what he wants for Christmas (too bad!).

Alex and Angela Vs. Dixie and Me (the LPN's Won)...you will have to excuse my bragging...I hardly ever win at anything....so I am really excited about this.

Life Is Good…And Other Annoying Bumper Stickers

Have you ever experienced pain? Have you ever been rejected…misused…misunderstood? Have you extended your hand in friendship only to have it shunned or betrayed? Have you ever experienced a senseless tragedy or endured a broken trust? Once it happens it makes it difficult to put yourself "out there" again. Right? It is human nature to recoil from the possibility of pain, whether it is physical, mental, or emotional. Yet among the many people who would recoil, retreat, stop giving, stop risking, stop trying…there are a few people who somehow pick up the pieces of their shattered egos, wills, bodies, and spirits…and keep on living…keep on giving…keep on loving.

To me, it did not make sense. Why…WHY would anyone do that to themselves? Shouldn't we protect ourselves against being hurt if we can help it; shouldn't we learn from the past mistakes and not touch the hot stove?

I know this is going to sound terrible, but a few years ago, due to the fact that my faulty reasoning was based primarily on a lack of knowledge and life experience, I thought that I could somehow avoid pain. I thought that - if I was careful enough, did all the right things, and said all the right things - I could avoid painful loss, depression, and senseless tragedies. In my mind, bad things only happened to people that somehow deserved it…or because they were not careful enough. But I was wrong! After a bit of living, rude awakenings, and more than a few unanswered questions, I realized: this is life - pain is inevitable - loss is par for the course…and, though I have nearly driven myself crazy trying to find answers for the "WHYS" in life, unanswered questions can be a blessing.

C.S. Lewis wrote about Charity ("divine love") in his book The Four Loves. In this chapter, Lewis wrote a stunningly vivid paragraph about the alternative to, and the results of not, giving of ourselves and loving others (even the unlovable), although it might bring pain and grief. He states:

To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket—safe, dark, motionless, airless—it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside of Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell.

There are bad things that happen in life that just cannot be explained; and even with the knowledge that God is in control, the hurt is still there and it can seem impossible to keep going.

But in these times, if we would grasp the truth that "His strength is made perfect in our weakness…" and if we would draw near to God… not so as to try to avoid the suffering that is inherently earthly…we would find that He is the only source of peace and comfort our hearts require. If our motivation is to please God, only then can we find the joy in giving and loving sacrificially.