Category: Family

The Very Special Birthday Gift

This past Thursday, Nov. 8, was Aaron’s birthday………number 28, amazingly enough!  When I went into his room to check on him and make sure he was up, I found him watching a video.  I said, “Aaron!  Today’s your birthday!”  And he replied, in his rather flat voice, “Yeah.”  But he had a smile and he rubbed his hands together, and I knew he was happy with the fact that today was finally THE day.  The countdown was over and he could now enjoy this special, once-a-year day that belonged only to him.
 
I returned to his room later to urge him to shower and get ready.  He was immersed in his video, watching…………the credits.  Yes, when Aaron watches a movie he watches every single part of it, from the very beginning to the bitter end.  This includes those credits that we usually pass up or watch briefly, at best.  Not Aaron!  He watches until the very last tiny word passes off the screen; and then when the black, blank screen appears, he is finished.  He held up his finger as I spoke to him, a sign that he is engrossed in what he is doing and that I needed to be quiet and wait my turn.  Rolling my eyes, I walked away.  His shower would have to wait until the important credits were finished.

 
I also noticed that on his desk next to him was a dinner plate full of some sort of crumbs.  I soon learned that the “crumbs” were actually pieces of peanuts.  He reached down and picked up the jar of peanuts that Dan and Wendy had bought him the night before……….and it was empty.  Yep, he was starting his day off with a bang by eating an entire jar of peanuts!  
  
Finally, he was clean and ready to begin his wonderful day.  He let me take his picture under our old family Happy Birthday banner that we hang up on each birthday, even though having his picture taken is not his favorite thing to do.  He then followed me around the house, talking as usual about whatever popped into his ever active mind.  Such as:   “Mom, something last night was so much funny!  I was reading my Handy Answer Science book.  Have you ever seen a picture of Isaac Newton?”
  
Yes, Aaron, I’ve seen a picture of Isaac Newton.  With that, Aaron laughed and then continued, “He looked like he was wearing a wig.  Did people back then not have real hair?!”   So we conversed about the fact that people have always had real hair and why they wore wigs, and on and on about hair and wigs and people “back then.”

As we drove to meet his group at Quik Trip, Aaron talked about things that he always talks about…………the funny shaped house, the bulls in the field, and the candy-cane striped cement dividers in the dentist’s parking lot.  And cappuccino.  “Mom, what is cappuccino?”  I answered that question briefly, and he said, “Last night I saw some at Braums.  It looked like a greenish dark color.  That’s nasty!”  So I assured him that it was his color blindness that caused cappuccino to be a greenish dark color, that it was really not greenish dark, and that yes………he would like cappuccino if he ever tasted it, greenish dark color and all. 

After Aaron returned from Paradigm, we picked Gary up at work on our way to Cracker Barrel, where we met Aaron’s special friend, Rosie, and her mother, Louise.  This was the first time that Rosie had joined us for Aaron’s birthday dinner.  Aaron had been so excited that she was coming and had talked about it for days.  I had told Louise not to get Aaron a gift, but several days earlier she had told me that Rosie really wanted to get something for Aaron.  So  Rosie brought a gift for Aaron………a spiral notebook, some ball point pens, and some Mike and Ikes.  And a birthday card, signed by Rosie.   So sweet………so simple………….so special.  I wasn’t sure what to expect with the two of them together, but it was so funny to see them sitting right beside each other, yet not talking.  Aaron spent the majority of the evening talking to Gary, while Rosie talked mostly to her mother and me.  Rosie likes to wear caps and to pull them over her eyes, but occasionally she would push the cap back and show her pretty, dark eyes.  On this night she had on a bright and sparkly pink hat. It was a nice evening and it was good to have the opportunity to get to know Louise better, and for us to see our special adult children together.  Their friendship is something that we are both learning to treasure and to understand.

Soon the night was over, we were home, and Aaron’s gifts were all opened.  He ends these birthdays much like he ends a movie.  The plot has been planned and carried out, the action has all taken place with the major characters involved, the credits are finished, and off he goes to his room…………carrying his gifts and moving on to the next event.  He never seems greatly  excited about most of it, though we know that he is by the way that he plans it and the way that he talks about it for weeks beforehand.  We had to urge him to thank Rosie for the gift that she gave him.  If you go by his outward reaction, he didn’t seem to be very thrilled with it.


But don’t be fooled.  Last night, when he came down to play Skip-Bo with me, he was carrying one of the pens that Rosie had given him.  He reached over and removed the usual pen from his notebook in which he records our Skip-Bo wins.  “Mom, I want to start using Rosie’s pen now in my Skip-Bo notebook.”  I told him that this was fine and he said, “Well, that old pen was almost out of ink anyway.”

I knew it wasn’t almost out of ink, but I didn’t say a word.  I left Rosie’s pen laying on the notebook.  Beside her pen was my discarded wrapper from a fruit bar that I had just eaten.  And without saying a word, Aaron reached over and moved the wrapper away from Rosie’s pen.  Then he said, “Don’t put trash near Rosie’s pen.”

And there you have it.  Rosie’s pen is a very special pen, because Rosie is very special.  You don’t put trash near Rosie’s pen.  There was a small glimpse into Aaron’s heart.  I won’t read too much into it, but I do know that Aaron has never cared about any other pen to that extent.  I value this little look into how he feels about his special friend, Rosie, and how much he treasured the gift that she gave him.  He won’t express it verbally like you and I would, or be able to write it in a pretty poem or story.  With Aaron you must be alert to these simple, brief moments in which you see into his heart and his thoughts.  It passes in a moment, and I know better than to ask probing questions or to seek more explanation from him.  I am satisfied with that moment, brief but profound.

I am thankful that Aaron has a special friend, a girl, with whom he has formed a unique connection for some unexplained reason.  Can any of us explain these things?  There is so much that Aaron will never be able to experience in this life, so having this friendship now is indeed a warm spot for him.  It’s a touch of normalcy in a world in which Aaron is usually anything but normal.  I’m glad that we invited Louise and her sweet daughter, Rosie.  I’m glad that Louise had the wisdom to let Rosie buy Aaron that gift.  I’m glad for what the little pen showed me about Aaron and his connection to Rosie. 
  
And I’m glad that now I know to keep my trash away from Rosie’s pen!
  

Remembering Willene

Gary and I had been dating for several months that autumn of 1978 when he invited me to join his family for their annual Thanksgiving gathering.  Everyone piled in to Jay and Teetle’s house in Winston-Salem, North Carolina……….dozens of them!  It seemed that there were people everywhere, in every nook and cranny of that house on Carter Circle.  I walked in to the talking and laughter, overwhelmed with the introductions and the people that I was meeting for the first time – people that I knew in my heart would someday be a part of my life.  It was a warm, inviting atmosphere because Gary’s family is some of the warmest, kindest people I have ever known.  Yet on that day I didn’t know anybody, really, except for Gary – who tried to stay close but somehow wasn’t close enough as I tried to remember names and to connect whom belonged to whom in the confusion of names and relations. 
The person that I was most nervous about meeting finally stood before me……….a rather tall woman, with those long Edmonds arms and with a rather inquisitive look in her eyes.  I’m sure she was as curious about me as I was about her.  We were introduced, and then I reached over and hugged her.  I realized instantly that this was a surprise to her, and I felt embarrassed as she rather stiffly returned the unexpected hug.  As the day went on, we had more time to casually talk and I’m sure to watch each other at a distance.  I don’t remember much more about that busy, full day of new people and so many names and faces to assimilate.  But I had finally met my future mother-in-law, Willene Crawford.  That was the beginning of building a relationship with this amazing woman.



Willene and her mother, Rachel
Willene and her dad, Edgar

Willene had endured a very rough childhood, full of hurts over the early, tragic loss of her father, Edgar Edmonds, and the subsequent remarriage of her mother to a man who turned out to be an abusive liar.  She had a hard life for many years, but when I met her she was married to Homer Crawford, and she was settled and happy.  After Gary and I were married, she became Mom to me.  I soon learned that she was a woman with a very giving nature, and to whom family was her world. 

Willene Edmonds
 

Our first little house was full of items that she gave us to help us get started…….from bedspreads to curtains to canned goods and pumpkins.  Yes, pumpkins!  I’ll never forget the fall weekend that she came to our little house in Winston-Salem from her home in Tennessee with a car full of pumpkins.  We scooped out pumpkins, cut up pumpkins, boiled pumpkins, mashed pumpkins, and froze the end product in dozens of freezer bags.  Gary and I enjoyed pumpkin anything and everything for months……….pumpkin muffins, pumpkin bread, pumpkin pancakes, pumpkin cake………….and the memories of that weekend were woven in to every bite. 

I loved Willene’s cooking and once asked her how she came to be such a great southern cook.  Her answer was simple – “Practice, practice, practice!” she said in her usual rather brusque tone.  Yet with all these years of practice, I’ve never accomplished her simply delicious art of mountain, southern cooking.  The last time she came to visit us here in Kansas,  she made biscuits – a treat we always looked forward to with watering mouths.  Her biscuits were perfect!  Of course, she had no recipe……….so as she dumped her ingredients into the bowl, I would stop her and then I would measure each item and write it down.  Still, though I seldom make biscuits, the times I have made them never do justice to the flaky, delicious biscuits that she produced.  Maybe it was her touch more than anything………..and the fact that I’m not practicing the art of biscuit making enough!

Homer died when Gary and I had been married for five years, and I was pregnant with Aaron.  That was such a sad time, another blow in Willene’s life of disappointments.  She moved back to Bryson City, living in Mama Rachel’s old house with Sandra and Mama Rachel right beside her in Sandra’s new home.  It was a good arrangement.  She was able to come see us after Aaron and Andrea were both born.  We were living in Colorado Springs where Gary was stationed at Fort Carson.  We had a small house in town, with not a lot of room for two babies and three adults…………but it was so much fun to have her come.  I never worried about things being perfect when she was with us because Willene was so laid back.  A perfect house didn’t matter one bit to her.  Time with family was what was valuable to her, and the times that she was with us were so special.

She came to Colorado in January of 1987 to spend several months with me.  Gary had been assigned to training that previous October en route to our new duty station in Germany.  There I was, with 2 year old Aaron and 4 month old Andrea……….and a house for sale in the middle of a Colorado winter.  My parents came out for awhile to help, and then after Christmas Willene came to stay indefinitely.  What a blessing and a lifesaver she was to me!  It was so wonderful to have her companionship and her assistance during that long, snowy winter.  By this time we were very comfortable with each other.  We talked and talked; we shopped; we ate out when we could; we cooked a lot; and she and I loved on her grandchildren.  She dearly loved those babies and she enjoyed every minute with them.  She even tolerated my new mother ways of doing things, and never tried to undo any of my decisions.  I did smile, though, when I’d see her sneak Aaron a little sip of forbidden soda or a little bite of candy. 

We’d scurry around to clean the house when the realtor would call to tell us that he was headed over with a potential buyer.  Then we’d pack the kids in the car and head out to the mall or to Target to kill time until it was safe to go back to our house.  She’d watch the kids while I shoveled yet another deep snow off the driveway and sidewalk, or when I had a military event to attend.  And when our packers came in April of that year, she was right there keeping the kids occupied and helping in whatever way she could.  She rejoiced with us when our realtor called to tell us our house had sold on the night before we were leaving Colorado!  She adjusted along with us as our trip out was delayed for several hours while we rushed through a hurried house closing, and never minded one bit when Gary took me to buy a new dress with some of the money we received at our closing.  It was a sweet, happy, but yet exhausting time.  I can only imagine how tired she must have been, but she never complained. 

We drove two cars across country as soon as our business was done in Colorado, heading out late in the day.  Gary drove our little S-10 pickup with Aaron happily chattering or sleeping beside him.  I followed in our Ford Tempo, with Willene sitting in the back watching over Andrea in her car seat.  Willene helped so much as she took care of Andrea’s every need, and as she helped keep me awake as I drove.  We were in awe together of the enormous, full moon that was in the sky as we drove across Texas that night.  We spent the night in Fort Smith, Arkansas before making our way to Bryson City, North Carolina that next day…….worn out but so happy to be home again.  Gary and I had time there, and time in West Virginia before he left alone for Germany in May.  The kids and I stayed behind until August, splitting time between NC and WV.

Willene adored her grandchildren, and in 1990 was thrilled to meet Andrew for the first time when we came home from Germany for 6 months before returning for another three years.  She came to Germany to spend some time with us, too, and what fun we had traveling over the country and showing her sights she never dreamed she would see.  She was able to come to each place that we lived – Alabama, Colorado, Germany, Kansas, and Arizona.  She loved our visits to Bryson City.  Days there were full of family, love, and many good times. 

Willene and family with Mama Rachel
 
Willene taught me how to do lots of crafts.  She loved to make things and she was very gifted in that area.  Before leaving for Germany, she taught me how to make rag baskets.  After we were settled in Germany, she would send boxes of fabric rolls that she got at the outlet where she worked.  I made and sold those baskets in craft stores there in Germany, as well as rugs and other crafts………….all because she cared enough to take the time and make the effort to see that I had what I needed.  She loved sending us all sorts of things from the outlet where she worked………bedding, towels, blankets, and so much more.  And there were boxes for the kids that would come, full of clothes or toys or goodies.  She was an awesome Granny, even though she was far away.

 
As her health declined and she was on dialysis, she never let it get her down.  She forged ahead with her life, even coming to visit us here in Wichita several times, dialysis or not.  She would continue her treatments here.  One day in February of 2007, she drove herself to her dialysis treatment, but she became sick there and had to be transported to the hospital in Asheville.  She had surgery and then she continued to decline.  Gary and I went to see her several times, and in April of that year we brought her for a day visit to Sandra’s for the last time.  Gary and I brought Andrea and Andrew to see her that summer as her condition continued to grow worse.  We received the call to come home in October of that year.  Gary and I drove all night to get there, going straight to the hospital in Asheville. 

I was shocked at the sight of her laying there in that hospital bed, unconscious and struggling to breathe.  This strong, independent woman was finally nearing the end.  She had accepted Christ and was ready to go, but none of us were ready to let her go.  We stayed at the hospital all day, and before leaving that night I leaned down close to her ear.  I told her that I loved her, and I told her that she was the most wonderful mother-in-law that a girl could ever ask for.  I hope she heard me………..I hope she knew my heart.  For though we always said “I love you” after every phone call or visit, I wanted her to know that she truly was an amazing woman and a precious part of my life. 

She passed away that next morning.  It’s been five years, and she is missed as much now as ever.  We laugh and smile when we talk about her, and the kids have many special memories of times with Granny.  I’m so thankful for that!  “Practice, practice, practice,” she told me.  But you can’t practice to be what she was.  She was the real deal, honest and straight-forward, blunt to a fault……….and with a heart as big as all outdoors. 

We miss you, Willene.  We miss you, Granny.  I miss you, Mom.

 

Lessons From the Praying Mantis

 

Gary and I had been out in the yard on Saturday.  It was time to go in for lunch, so we called to Aaron and then headed for the house.  My new mums on the front porch were vibrant with the colors of fall, and bees buzzed around lazily between the mums and my still-blooming Crepe Myrtles.  It was such a beautiful day! 

 

Just as we were ready to walk inside the garage, I noticed something out of the corner of my eye.  I stopped to take a closer look, not moving from where I was standing.  I saw that the thing catching my attention was long and green and was perched atop my pretty Crepe Myrtle blooms, partially hidden by the growth around him.  A grasshopper!  An unwelcome intruder in my flower bed!  I didn’t appreciate him chowing down on my Crepe Myrtle leaves, or any of my other bushes or flowers.   

 

I told Gary about the grasshopper as I stepped around to the front of the bush for better aim.  I was ready to shoo that trespasser away!  That’s when I realized my mistake, thankfully before I rattled the poor creature’s nerves and forced him to fly off.  There sat a cute, medium-sized praying mantis.  Yes, I think a praying mantis is a cute creature.  Not only are they cute, but they are so very helpful in the garden.  They eat the garden’s enemies and they eat some of my enemies in various bug forms, so a praying mantis is very welcome in my flower bed.  I was so glad that I realized my mistake before I made him leave.  Gary and I showed our praying mantis to Aaron before going on inside and leaving our little guest in peace.

 

I’ve had similar times in my life…………….times when I’m enjoying the beauty around me in my life……….when things are bright and nice and going well.  But there out of the corner of my eye I see a perceived intruder.  Maybe it’s an unexpected event that is less than inviting, is even uncomfortable or causes me to struggle when I least expect it.  I recently had an accident that has resulted in a shoulder injury.  This injury is not only painful, but is just downright annoying as it slows me down and interrupts my sleep.  Because of this injury, I have had to schedule doctor visits, an MRI, and who knows what else still to come.  To top it off, we may not be able to take a special trip home that we have planned.  Yet I know that God is in control of even this minor situation.  This is an opportunity for me to see God’s good in the midst of my pain and disappointment…………to realize that I don’t have a destructive grasshopper perched on this branch of my life but a helpful praying mantis. 

 

We all have varying situations that are occurring………or will occur………..in our lives.  Sometimes it’s not an occurrence at all, but a person who comes into our life that we really don’t want to have there at all, if we were honest.  Whether it’s an event, though, or a person, let’s not be so quick to shoo it all away and be done with it.  If we stop to look closely and to let God work, we may find that this is exactly what God has given us in order to teach us some important lessons.  As believers, we know along with Moses that we can say, “The Rock!  His work is perfect, for all His ways are just; a God of faithfulness and without injustice, Righteous and upright is He.” 

 

God doesn’t send destructive grasshoppers into our lives, even when we wonder about the things that we’re going through.  With God, His works are perfect.  He desires to teach us and to help us, just like my praying mantis was there to help me in my flower bed.  Lord, help me to take time to look at Your lessons and Your methods of teaching me before I rush in with arms flying, trying to brush off Your way of working in me.  May I look with clear eyes and see these times as helpful and learning times, not times to be done away with and hurried through.  Keep me still and quiet, observing Your miracles all around me and Your unusual ways of leading me. 

 

And thanks for the lesson You have taught me through this cute little praying mantis!

War!

War:  A struggle or competition between opposing forces or for a particular end

According to the above definition, Aaron and I are in a state of war.  We are actually in a state of war on two fronts.  One front has been ongoing for a long time…………the other is fairly new, but escalated today.

Moore War One:  The Fan Wars

Aaron has a tendency to get hot.  Not hot as in angry……well, sometimes he does do that…….but hot as in just hot……like sweaty hot.  Yuck!  Of course, it could have something to do with the fact that he often has his fuzzy blanket thrown over his lap as he sits at his desk and is on his computer.  And under that blanket may very well be long pajama pants, slipper socks AND slippers, and even a long sleeved shirt.  Never mind that we’ve told him time and again that he is way overdressed.  This is how he seems to be comfortable and if Aaron is comfortable then there is a slim-to-none chance that he will change what he is doing.

Aaron’s solution to being hot isn’t to dress lighter, although at times he does put on shorts along with a cooler shirt………while still using that fuzzy blanket.  His solution is to turn on his ceiling fan, no matter what time of year it is.  The whirring of his ceiling fan is a very common sound upstairs where his bedroom is located.

A year or two ago I bought him a little portable fan to put on his bookcase beside his desk.  I showed him how this fan could be used to blow on him and keep him from being so hot.  I thought that this was a great idea and was sure that Aaron would agree.  I should have known better.  Before long, we noticed that the fan was positioned to blow directly on Aaron’s computer………..not on Aaron himself.  So I moved the fan back to the blowing-on-Aaron position……only to walk in later and find it in the blowing-on-the-computer position.

When questioned, Aaron told us that his computer gets hot and so he uses his nice, new portable fan to blow on his computer in order to cool it down.  No amount of persuasion, pleading, demanding, or scientific data showing otherwise has caused Aaron to budge on this issue.  He is sure that his computer is too hot and that it needs the constant blowing of his fan in order to cool down and not explode, I guess.  Aaron keeps his ceiling fan on for himself, and has changed his little blowing-on-Aaron fan into a blowing-on-the-computer fan.

He also thinks that these fans need to be running constantly.  I do not agree.  When we leave the house, I always tell Aaron to turn his fans off.  And sure enough, sneaky Aaron will somehow manage on many mornings to keep those fans turned on……..as he did today.  Sometimes he’ll even go back into the house under the guise of getting something or doing something – but in reality he is sneaking back upstairs to turn those fans on.

So the Fan Wars continue and will for the foreseeable future, I’m sure.

Moore War Two:  The Body Wash Wars

Do you remember Aaron’s body wash that he said contained confetti?  Well, he threw it away one day because he said it was empty.  I rescued it from the trash because it was by NO means nearly empty.  When turned upside down, there were days and days of future showers in that bottle.  Listen, I am the woman who cuts open plastic bottles in order to use all the remaining face wash or lotion or other such things that are in there……..days and days of face washes and lotions I have found inside those bottles!  So no way was I letting Aaron throw away days and days worth of his confetti body wash!

Aaron does not have my thrifty nature.  He also does not seem to appreciate upside down bottles.  He has refused to use the body wash that has gathered in the upside down bottle.  I have persevered, though, even while he got under his sink and pulled out a full, new bottle of a different brand of body wash.  He has used this entire bottle, even while the confetti body wash has remained there, upside down and untouched.

This morning Aaron came into my bathroom and said, “Mom, I threw out those hair detergent things.  When I turned it up and squeezed, it made an air sound.”

Now notice that Aaron said he threw away those hair detergent things…….plural.  But then he referred to the air sound as coming from only one bottle.  Uh-huh.  He took the opportunity of having one empty bottle as a chance to throw both bottles away.  Who does he think he’s dealing with?  An amateur?  No way!

After I got home from taking him to his group, and had turned his fans off, I checked his bathroom trash can.  Yes, I knew it!  He had thrown away his upside down confetti body wash that still has days and days of showers left.  Now that bottle of confetti body wash is perched upside down once again in his shower.  I am not easily defeated.

Problem is, neither is Aaron.  Things could get hot around here!  Wonder if he’d let me borrow his little fan?

Quilted With Love

Some of my earliest memories of my mother revolve around her amazing skills as a seamstress.   I remember being very young and seeing Mom sitting at her sewing machine, turning out something beautiful and seemingly perfect from all sorts of fabrics.  She kept us girls busy in those early years while she sewed by giving us pieces of felt in various colors.  From this soft felt we fashioned  clothes for our little troll dolls, cutting and fitting each ugly troll as if it was a priceless and beautiful doll.  Mom provided glitter and sequins and odd buttons for us to glue onto our awkward handiwork.  We stayed busy for hours laboring over our important creations.  I don’t remember all the mess we must have made, but I do remember laboring over our little troll dolls while Mom labored over her more important sewing jobs.   Mom made small, meticulous Barbie doll ensembles which she sold in a local craft store, and also made some for us to keep.  Yet her most loving works of art were the countless pieces of clothing she made for her girls to wear.
 
Every Easter we had new Easter dresses.  I especially remember the Easter that she made all of us girls pink gingham dresses – and then made one for herself, as well.  I thought it was wonderful to not only match my sisters, but to also be dressed like my mother!   I remember the trips to Penny’s in Bluefield, the bigger town that was near our hometown of Princeton.  I loved the escalator ride down to the bottom floor, where we would choose patterns and fabrics and buttons for our new clothes.  Never did we go to the ready-made clothes upstairs or enter a dressing room.  Our clothing was there amongst the bolts of fabric, waiting to be matched to patterns and later sewn into pretty dresses and jackets and blouses.  I do believe that I took the longest to select the fabric to match the patterns as I had such a difficult time seeing the finished product in my head.  I would stand there, rubbing the fabric between my fingers, trying to visualize a finished product that somehow wasn’t materializing in my mind.  I can imagine Mom’s frustration as I lingered there trying to make this important decision………..as well as the rolling eyes of my sisters who had finished this process long before I did.
 
Mom worked full-time after we were all in school, yet still managed to sew all of our clothes.  She was a natural at this art, yes, but it still took lots of time.  She would sew late into the night, her dedication undeterred by her tiredness.  I never gave enough thought to how tiring this effort must have been to her until I had children of my own.  How did she do it all?  I have no idea, really, but she did.  Her work was not only beautiful with matching plaids and perfect zippers and flawless fit, but each stitch was filled with a love that wasn’t recognized by us until years later. 
 
One of my most special memories was of the year when we were teenagers, and Mom made us skirts for Christmas.  I don’t know how many skirts she made, but there were quite a few.  Then she not only began looking for matching sweaters to wear with each skirt, but matching knee socks as well.  She did not give up this quest for the correct colors of sweaters and socks until each skirt had what it needed to make it a perfect ensemble.  We learned about this later, from Dad, who accompanied her on many of these trips.
 
Dad, who was color blind and absolutely no help when it came to matching colors of anything, would patiently take Mom on many of these shopping trips.  I can still see him standing silently on the sidelines in the fabric stores, hands behind his back and a sweet smile on his face.  He never rushed Mom or any of us, but stood there until we had come to the point of methodically selecting every button and every spool of thread.  I can still hear him say, “Did you know that there are 53 light bulbs in this ceiling?”  Or, “Did you know that there are 271 zippers in that display?”  Dear, sweet Dad!
 
John and Jeanie’s Quilt

When Mom and Dad both retired, Mom only continued her sewing.  She had sewn for her children, for grandchildren, for friends, for the Crisis Pregnancy Center, and who knows what else.  Upon retirement, she decided to take up quilting.  Of course, she was a natural at this skill.  She practiced by making her and Dad a lovely quilt, and then took up the goal of making each of us five children and spouses a quilt.  These gorgeous works of art were each sewn entirely by hand with no sewing machine used.  She had us each pick our pattern and our colors – there I went again, having to make this difficult visual choice!  Mom never wasted a minute in any day, and before long she was completing our individual, personal, gorgeous quilts.  Dad took her to countless stores and quilt shops, patiently waiting over and over again as she selected just the right fabrics.  Each stitch was a labor of love……….each completed quilt a perfect picture of her devotion to her children.  I keep my quilt hanging in our kitchen area so that we can see it every day and enjoy its beauty, and bask in the warm memories that it evokes. 

 
Mom made many, many quilts during the next few years.  She made quilts for missionaries; she made a special quilt for a dear friend who had no mother of her own to make her one; she made a quilt for the Prophet’s Chamber at church where missionaries 
stayed when visiting; and she made a memory quilt that has special fabrics and mementos from each of us children and our children.
 
 
Bob and Jan’s Quilt
Jimmy and Kathryn’s Quilt

Mom has Alzheimer’s now and lives in an assisted living center.  Tomorrow she will celebrate her 86th birthday.  Dad knew that Mom was showing distressing signs of forgetfulness before he passed away nearly four years ago, and he worried so about her.  He would be happy with her living arrangement now and with how well cared for she is.  She doesn’t sew at all now.  She’s even forgotten how to put her jigsaw puzzles together that she loved so much.  Sometimes she doesn’t remember all of our names, and definitely not the names of all the grandchildren and great-grands.   But she is sweet and she is happy and she still seeks to serve others.

Bob and Mary Beth’s Quilt
Gary and Patty’s Quilt

And just as our keepsake quilts will always be an heirloom to pass down to our children, even more so are the pieces of our lives that she shaped and fashioned together with her tireless love and effort.  She took care of us, providing the atmosphere of a happy and warm home to treasure as she sewed and cooked and played and laughed.  She made sure that we had family devotions every morning before school because Dad was at work and so it was up to her.  She took us to church when Dad was working late, and didn’t just drop us off – she was there, too, worshipping and serving.  She  showed us how to love and how to work and how to pray and how to laugh and how to persevere through hard times.  She exemplified great care in how she took care of her mother for 14 years, as well as her mother-in-law for part of that time.  And she loved Dad, totally.  She never left his side, especially for the eight years that he fought cancer.  Even when they no longer could share their bed they had slept in together for 59 years, she slept right beside his hospital bed, her arm and hand resting on him between the bed rails. 

These traits of our mother are the stitches that are sewn into our very being.  The pieces of our lives were begun by her, thought-out and cut, measured and pieced, day by day.  As the years marched on, the shapes of our lives began to unfold.  The beauty of the various patterns began to be seen.  These are the treasures that are eternal.  These are the heirlooms that have more value than any quilt will ever possess.  And while our mother may not remember much anymore about the details of the past or the present, we have the evidence in our lives of her love and her faith…………a beautiful quilt of a life well lived.

Throw ON the Towel!

Here we go again.  I heard it from upstairs…….the sound of the plastic containers full of coffee hitting the floor and then the thump.  My heart sank as I hurried downstairs to check on Aaron.  He was fine, although sprawled on the floor with spilled coffee all around him.   He jerked and dropped his coffee yet again………lukewarm coffee, thankfully.  And thankfully he didn’t throw his coffee containers as he has been known to do when he’s in a rage. This was a true accident, but messy and discouraging none the less.

I was frustrated with Aaron this morning over a couple things already and this didn’t help, believe me.  My compassion for him still hasn’t quite kicked in yet.  He has cleaned up and showered, and seems to be fine.  I hope he’s not bruised.

I just stood and looked at this mess………coffee all over the floor, the cabinets, on and under the frig.  UGH!  And I thought of how many times I’ve just felt like throwing in the towel.  We all do, don’t we, whether we are parents or not.  But we can’t quit.  God doesn’t and we can’t.  Especially as parents……….these children are given to us by God and He wants us to hang in there despite how tough it sometimes is.

So instead of throwing IN the towel, we throw ON a towel.  We clean the messes up step by step, bit by bit. We’ll see progress one day, even if it’s slow to come…………even when we just stand there and don’t know where to start.  God gives patience; and God gives us the same grace toward our children or others that He has extended to us.  We clean up the messes, whatever they may be, and we push forward.

The rest of the day is before us.  It’s up to me now not to mess up my reactions and my attitudes.  I’ll need to grab another towel if I’m not careful!

Rocking Together

Yesterday was one of those days.  It was a culmination of several of “those” days that actually became one of THOSE days.  Am I making sense?  Let me once again offer some quotes from Karen Williams in her excellent article – Understanding the Student with Asperger’s Syndrome.  For Gary and I, the title should read – Understanding Our Son with Asperger’s Syndrome (If That Is Even Remotely Possible).  Williams says, under the category of Emotional Vulnerability:  “Rage reactions/temper outbursts are common in response to stress/frustration.”   She goes on to say that those with Asperger’s “………..are easily overwhelmed when things are not as their rigid views dictate they should be.”

I would add that, likewise, parents of Asperger’s children (or adults who behave like children) are at times overwhelmed when things are not as their child (or adult who behaves like a child) wants them to be.  Williams adds, “Affect as reflected in the teacher’s voice should be kept to a minimum.  Be calm, predictable, and matter-of-fact in interactions with the child with AS, while clearly indicating compassion and patience.”

As a parent with an adult (who sometimes behaves like a child) with Asperger’s, I do whole-heartily agree with Williams.  I would also add that perhaps the parent should have a pillow to scream into; a punching bag hanging in the garage to punch on; a blog to write in……………OK, just kidding.  Sort of.

Aaron’s been hung up on a computer game and it’s been all consuming to him.  Saturday was one of those days when he just would not get off the computer to shower, take his pills, or even eat.  Aaron has to reach a certain level of a game before he will turn it off.  This is why we removed Nintendo and PlayStation from our home years ago.  He does much better on the computer, for some reason, but occasionally will revert to these old behaviors.  When this happens, we take the keyboard away and hide it.  Aaron has come to expect this and is usually agreeable about it………..as if it’s almost a relief to have the temptation removed.

Yesterday he was not relieved.  We removed his keyboard Saturday night, so on Sunday he clipped coupons and then napped while our small group was here for lunch.  After his nap, when the small group was gone and a friend who had stopped by had left, Aaron fully expected that his keyboard would be returned.  We had not made it clear that we were not returning the keyboard at that time.  Mistake number one:  Not being clear and consistent, and expecting Aaron to follow along.  Consistency has always been an issue, especially with me.  And inconsistency and change does not work well with Aaron.

Aaron was talking to Gary and me about all of this, and followed Gary downstairs to his study, where they continued to have a pleasant conversation.  Gary was very upbeat and happy.  Aaron was holding a container of his favorite Pringles……………and was becoming agitated.  Soon I heard a strange noise and when I walked downstairs I discovered Gary staring quietly at the mess.  Aaron had thrown his container of Pringles across the room and there was a huge pile of chips and crumbs all over the floor as well as some of Gary’s bookshelves.

Well, well, well…………now what?  Aaron grabbed the container, twisting and squeezing it in sheer frustration as he continued to escalate.  Gary and I followed him upstairs, talking calmly to him………….no affect in our voices at all.  If we yelled, we knew that Aaron would go through the roof.  His eyes were darting around, probably trying to find something else to break.  We stood there, using soothing tones that calmed Aaron a little but were not totally defusing the situation, when suddenly Gary asked, “Aaron, do you want to go to Dairy Queen and get a blizzard?”

It was amazing to see Aaron’s face.  His struggle was so evident as he tried to process this offer.  He was slowly deflating, but he wanted to still be angry.  He paced around the family room and then angrily said, “OK!!  I’ll go!”  He put on his shoes and socks, and then Gary asked him if he wanted to take the van or the truck.  Aaron calmed down even more as he said that he wanted to take the truck, so off Gary and Aaron went……….with Aaron sitting up in the truck with his dad.  I knew what an effort it took for Gary to do this.  He was tired after a hard weekend of working outside, studying for Sunday School, and teaching that morning.  I knew that Gary wanted nothing more than to rest, to relax, to have time for some things that he wanted to do.

His love for his son was evident…………..both of us were loving Aaron at that moment but not really liking him.  While they were gone, I vacuumed up the mess downstairs, wishing that the messes that Aaron makes in our hearts were as easy to dispose of and forget.  When they returned home, Aaron was a different person.  He was full of talk about his M&M Blizzard, their run through the car wash, what road they were on, and the barber shop that was nearby………….”You know, Mom, they have that red and white sign that looks like a spinning candy cane!!”

Later, Aaron and I sat on the glider on the front porch as a thunderstorm moved through.  I love doing that and was happy that Aaron joined me when I invited him to come out.  There the two of us sat on the glider, trying to rock as the wind blew and the thunder rumbled and the rain came down.  We talked………..mostly Aaron talked, of course……………and I kept trying to rock.  You see, Aaron likes to sit forward on the glider and when he does this, he rocks in his own rhythm……….which is the opposite of the way I am rocking.  When I went forward, Aaron went back.  Then when I was going backward, Aaron was pushing forward.  This is not conducive to smooth rocking!  I told him to sit back and relax so that we could rock, and for a minute or two he would.  Then he would sit forward again………..and again we would not be able to smoothly rock as he was moving against my every move.  I just observed, and smiled, and laughed softly at the awkwardness of this supposed rocking.

And I realized how Gary and I have to rock together in our life with Aaron.  We don’t always accomplish this feat, believe me!  Any married couple will agree that it takes time to develop unity in every area of marriage.  Aaron and his issues have certainly been difficult for us at times.  We haven’t always agreed on how to handle discipline, especially, as well as other areas.  Time and maturity and experience have taught us so much.  So many times, I have rocked one way while Gary is rocking in another direction.  This makes for jerky, unhappy motions in our marriage and in Aaron’s life as well.  He needs us to be unified………..and Gary and I need to be a solid unit as we deal with Aaron’s life and decisions that involve him.

Gary blessed me yesterday in how he handled Aaron with love and wisdom.  We were rocking together and the result was smoothness and pleasure in the end as we saw Aaron relax and calm down.  We never know what we’ll face today or tomorrow with Aaron, but we do know that if we rock together with God in the center, then life will be much happier and certainly more peaceful.

Count Your………Our………..MY Blessings!

It’s been one of those mornings.  You know……..one of THOSE mornings.  I went to bed bothered by worrisome issues that I should not go to bed being bothered by……….those worrisome issues.  Can’t end that sentence in a preposition.  🙂    I went to my new location in Andrea’s old room that I’ve set up for myself……..a new desk and an alone place to have my quiet time.  The new location didn’t seem to help.  I felt stifled and ineffective in my time with the Lord this morning.  Distracted…….and thinking that I needed to dodge my prayers that were bouncing off the ceiling, going no where.  Is Satan unhappy about my desire for a more intimate time with the Lord?  Perhaps.

Later, I looked at the weather forecast and the upcoming week of temps above 100 and no rain only increased my weariness.  Our scratchy dog with allergies; laundry waiting to be washed or put away; dishes to take care of; even a Supreme Court ruling and an election in Egypt that I don’t agree with were piling up in my mind.  Talk about taking on the cares of the world.  Come on, Patty.  This is really ridiculous!

After my shower, I heard good old Aaron in the hall.  “Mom?”  I told him that I would be out in a minute.  I could tell that I would have very little patience with him today………shame on me.  He thumped downstairs to take his pills and thumped back up to see if we could now talk.  I again told him to wait……….and when I did open my door, he was in his room and promptly told me to come look at his finger.  He held it up for me as I walked in, and there it was………….his index finger, all wrapped up in a bloody band-aid.

My patience was even less now.  “Mom, last night I had some loose skin and so I used my knife to cut it off.” Oh Aaron.  We’ve heard this story before and I knew what was coming………..and it did.   He wanted to know if he should have used his little pocket knife to cut off the skin; why not?; what would I use?; that he couldn’t help it that the knife slipped, etc., and etc.  I removed the band-aid and saw the raw wound where he had cut or pulled off his loose skin.  I could feel my irritation increasing.  I told him to go shower…………his whole body, by the way, not just his finger!  I know how he thinks.

Aaron showered and then came to my bathroom, where I further cleaned and medicated and dressed his wound.  He could sense my mood and so he scurried on downstairs, deciding to get his own coffee and carry it to his room himself without bothering his moody mom.  Soon I heard, “Mom, I spilled some coffee but I’ll clean it up.”  Oh goodness, Aaron!  Where did you spill coffee?  “On the stairs.  I’ll clean it up!”  No, Aaron…….I’ll get it.  All the while, I was muttering under my breath about how this is the last thing I needed and why did he have to carry the coffee up himself when he’s so shaky and of all mornings…………

Then I saw the spill, which looked more like a gushing of coffee.  It was splattered on several stairs, but one stair in particular was soaked with coffee.  Oh Aaron!  Look at this mess!  Next I saw coffee on the living room floor, so got the Swiffer and mopped that section.  I headed for the soppy stairs, with Aaron saying, “I’ll clean it up, Mom!”  But I grabbed towels and began the clean-up, while Aaron then said, “Here, I’ll help.”  He proceeded to carry a wad of paper towels from the kitchen into the living room and instead of heading for the stairs where I was, he started wiping off the piano.  WHAT??!!  Sure enough, some coffee had splattered onto the piano and Aaron was working to clean up the brown spots…………….while he stood on the still-wet floor.  I went from unhappy to unhappier, all the while muttering about how my nerves couldn’t take much more and of all mornings and please, Aaron, don’t talk right now………..

I continued my shallow thinking as I realized that I would indeed have a bad hair day, no matter what I did to try to improve the mess on my head.  The clothes I chose to wear today didn’t help any, nor did the sandals.  No time to change all that now.  Of all days for me to have a doctor appointment, I moaned to myself.  Little annoyances for the remainder of the morning reminded me of my misery.  Aaron and I hurried out the door, stopping at the grocery store on our way to meet his group.  I had promised him a Cheddar Pasta Salad to take to his group.  Of all mornings to need to leave early, I grumbled.

At the deli counter, as we waited to be served, Aaron began to notice all the dishes.  He leaned over and oohed and aahed over the Deviled Egg Potato Salad, The Layered Salad, the Fruit Salad, the German sandwiches, the Spaghetti Salad…………and his joy over simple food began to silence my distasteful attitude.  He had moved beyond spilled coffee, bad hair, wounded finger, scratchy dog, and hot temps.  He noticed the good things before him.  As we walked out with not only his Cheddar Pasta Salad, but also a bottle of flavored water and some Skittles, he chattered happily about anything and everything.  If I wasn’t listening, I would have missed his observation that the entrance sidewalk at the Warren Theater is, in his words, “…….twinkle stone.  Does it have jewelry in it, Mom?”

I had to pause in my heart and smile.  As we drove to meet his group, I told him that I was sorry about my attitude that morning.  He didn’t say a word, but I  know he filed that apology in his mind.  I needed to say it and he needed to hear it from his grouchy mother this morning.  Later, at Sassy Nails, I sat across from a stranger – another mom – while our toes dried.  We talked and she shared how her sister had died of cancer, and how through it all she had blessings to be thankful for.  This woman, this mom, this sister, had no idea about how much I needed to hear those words.  How easy it is to let the slight troubles of my life ruin my disposition and take my mind off the Lord!

So I have counted my blessings for the rest of the day:
1.  The spilled coffee matches the carpet, especially in the dim light.
2.  A coffee smell on the stairs beats a dog smell any day.
3.  The living room needed to be mopped anyway.
4.  My new pink toes hopefully took the doctor’s eyes away from my bad hair.
5.  I do have hair.
6.  It may be 107 degrees outside, but we have working AC inside.
7.  It may be 107 degrees outside, but I don’t have to be outside working.
8.  It may be 107 degrees outside, but we have water for our thirsty garden.
9.  Our neighbors have to  move for various hard reasons, and the man taking pics of their house this morning wasn’t taking pics of our house.
10.  I have a faithful God; loving husband and children; and Aaron to remind me of what’s important.

And I have forgiveness – God’s forgiveness – and even Aaron’s forgiveness……..unspoken but there none the less.

Our Nest

I remember being pregnant with Aaron and hearing the term “nesting.”  I wondered if that phenomenon was really true, and later discovered that it certainly was.  I had the rush of energy and the desire to get our nest in order before Aaron’s birth – and he was three weeks early!  Interesting!

I find myself considering our nest again, but now on the other end of the spectrum.  Goodness, how time flies!  And now I sound old even in just saying those timeless words about time.  I don’t really feel old, but soon our nest will be a little emptier, and I know that the years have rushed by much faster than I ever dreamed they would when I was knee high in diapers and runny noses.

Tomorrow, barring any delay, Andrea will officially be moving to her new apartment.  She’ll only be an hour away but the distance isn’t what matters.  This marks the beginning of her independent life.  She’s worked since she graduated from college, but has patiently still lived at home as she waited for the wisest opportunity to launch out on her own.  That time has come for her, and no one could be any happier for her than Gary and I are.  Yes, we’ll have the normal sadness as we watch her go, but the sadness is tempered by the happiness we feel for her.  She has a job that she’s wanted and that God put into her lap, so it seems, and now her own place.  Her patience has paid off and we believe that God has honored her.

When Aaron found out that Andrea would be moving, he was very surprised.  He blurted out, “NO MORE ANDREA??!!”  Well, kind of, Aaron………….she’ll still come to visit but no, she won’t be living here anymore.  He’ll miss her a lot, as we all will.  And she’ll miss him, too – in some ways more than others, for sure.

The nests I’ve seen around our yard, up in the trees, are all empty.  It’s the time of year for empty nests.  When I think of our nest, the Moore nest, I know that we have a different nest than many other people have.  We’re not alone in our uniqueness, certainly, but we are in the minority.  At our age, Gary and I should have an empty nest…………but when you have a child, or an adult, with special needs – sometimes the nest won’t be empty for a long time, and maybe never.

This fact hit me at some point when Aaron was entering adulthood.  Some of our friends were anticipating their own empty nests, or celebrating that fact when it occurred.  None of us dislike our children, but when the time of life comes that our children move on and we’re still young and healthy enough to be alone again – well, it’s just fun!  But as Gary and I dealt with the reality of Aaron’s needs, part of that reality that hit us square in the face was that Aaron may not leave home for a long time.

I’m not complaining and I sure hope I don’t sound whiny.  When we were first exploring what options we had for Aaron’s services, we chose an agency that would provide Aaron with a group home.  We were definitely headed in that direction…………..until one of the staff physically and verbally abused Aaron.  Gary and I considered that door shut, and so have kept Aaron at home with us.  Some day we will have to cross that bridge again, but we don’t know when that will happen.  His day group is a blessing to all of us, with an awesome staff.  But honestly, I can hardly imagine someone being able to love and understand Aaron enough to live with him, to care for him during his seizures, to know how to defuse him when he’s angry, to read his body language, and on and on.

There are some lessons that I have learned over the years in regards to our lack of an empty nest at this point in our lives. I don’t always practice what I preach, but I have learned:

1.  Do not compare myself to others!
This is a trap that I think we women fall into so easily.  I remember in our early years of marriage how I would listen when other wives told me that Gary and I should do this or go here or experience that.  I had to learn not to compare our lives with their lives.  Now as I think of Aaron being home I must also not compare our lives to those who are “free.”  God has given us this life with this situation, in His sovereignty, and to live any other way than in freedom would be defeating.

2.  Do not covet the life that others have!
     This goes along with not comparing ourselves to others, but coveting takes it one step further down that slope of sinful behaviors.  Other couples may have more time alone, more opportunity for travel, more peace and quiet, more time for their own hobbies or pursuits……..but I should never covet these things.  Coveting is purely sin!

3.  Be content!
     Paul had a lot to say about being content………….”Godliness with contentment is great gain;” and “I have learned in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content.”  Being content is an act of my will and an act of obedience to God.

4.  Count my blessings!
I have so many reasons to be thankful and so many blessings to count, every single day!  And counting my blessings keeps my mind on positive attitudes and focuses me once again on being content.

As Andrea and I worked in her apartment the other day, we noticed the pretty tree out the front window.  It’s a Redbud and this spring it promises to provide lots of beauty for her to enjoy.  As I was working on something, Andrea said, “Look, there’s a nest in the tree.”  And sure enough, there sits a nest up in the branches of the Redbud.  What a perfect reminder that now Andrea is starting her own nest!  Her first nest is not like my first nest, but it’s a nest and will be blessed by God as she honors Him.

 

And I want to continue to honor God with the nest that God has given to Gary and me.  Our last bird may be here for a long time, but that’s OK.  What a privilege to mother our special bird!

Besides, what would I write about if not for Aaron?

Psalm 46

Today on the radio I heard David Jeremiah talking about those times that we come to God with such heavy hearts that we don’t really even know what to say, and so we just ask Him to speak to us in a special way.  I guess hearing him say that has caused me to think today about one of the most meaningful times that I did just that.

In May of 2000, my dad was diagnosed with lung cancer.  He went through months of grueling chemotherapy and radiation, and was doing very well.  After four years we were all resting easier about his condition, praising God for His healing hand on Dad.

I’ll never forget the day in early November of 2004 when our phone rang.  It was my mom and dad calling me from West Virginia.  Some routine blood work that had been done a few weeks earlier had shown that some of his levels weren’t quite right.  On the phone that day, he and mom broke the news to me that a liver scan had shown that Dad had liver cancer.  It was inoperable, but chemo was once again an option.  However, we knew that this was very serious and possibly terminal.

None of our family was expecting this news.  We were all devastated, of course, and so sad on many levels.  The next morning after receiving this awful news, I sat at the table with my coffee and my Bible.  I was trying to find the motivation to work on a Bible study I was doing, but my heart wasn’t in that.  Finally, I just called out to God and said, “Oh God, You know that I am so sad and so hurt over Dad.  Please, Lord, I need to hear from You right now.  Please speak to me.”

I opened my Bible randomly.  I had nothing marked, nothing stuck in the pages of my Bible that would have caused it to open where it did.  I looked down to where I had opened it and saw Psalm 46.  This was a special Psalm to my extended family.  Verse one says, “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.”  Beside that verse I had written, “‘Dad, cancer: 2000.”  Then verse 10 is my mother’s verse: “Be still and know that I am God.”  I had her name written beside that verse.

It was a very special time of worship for me that morning.  I said, “Oh, thank you Lord, for reminding me of Who You were to all of us during Dad’s cancer in 2000 and of Who You still are today!”  And so I added the date of 2004 to that verse as a reminder of this wonderful word once again from God.

It was a Friday morning and I knew that back in West Virginia, Dad was at the Men’s Prayer Breakfast that he always attended.  That meant that Mom would be alone, and so she and I could really talk.  I called her and for a few minutes we talked and cried together.  Then I said, “Mom, God did the most amazing thing this morning.  I asked Him to speak to me and so I opened my Bible……………”   But Mom interrupted me before I could say anything else.

She said, “Wait!  Don’t tell me!  Was it Psalm 46?”

And I replied, “Well, yes, but how did you know that?”

And she said, “Yesterday when we got home from the doctor, your dad went back into the bedroom and stayed there a long time.  When he came out I asked what he was doing, and he told me that he was reading Psalm 46.”

Oh wow!  God was reaching down to us, so many miles apart, and showing us that He was there…….that He was aware of our need and of our hurt……..that He hadn’t forgotten us…………..that He truly was a PRESENT help in our trouble.

God gave us four more wonderful years with Dad.  We would often say to each other, “Remember Psalm 46!”

What a faithful and awesome God we serve!