Cards & Letters...

I wonder if sending someone a card has become a lost art? Has writing a letter become gauche, old-fashioned, and dated? Like me? Facebook is so smart, it lets me know on the day when one of my "friends" is celebrating a birthday. The next step is me going to their home page, write a 2 sentence (max) snippet, wishing them a great day. Time to move on. What in the world happened to writing a letter or sending a card? I used to be queen of sending cards. Not just birthday, anniversary or thank you cards. For all occasions. Better yet, a no occasion card. My favorite kind of card to get in the mail.

 

My favorite card I've ever gotten...

My Life in flannel...

I, unfortunately was born with Chronic Icy-Cold Arm Syndrome. It can literally be 90 degrees outside, yet my arms feel downright chilly. I get goose bumps, and the 3 hairs on each arm stand straight up. (I didn't come from a hairy bunch). Since I'm unable to substantiate when exactly this strange phenomenon struck me, I'm going with my birth at home, December 1950. I have found a couple of photos with me as a normal kid. And I'm baring it all. Well, I mean all of my arms. But I think those pictures have been doctored.

 

Neese 1953. Pic has been doctored. I'm wearing a hoody...

Cloth, Disposable, Depends...

I've never been ashamed of my age. Most days I'm in awe and a little panicky at how fast the years keep clipping along. But this is my life, and it's been pretty great so far. No major illness, my family is healthy. Thanks God. I've earned every one of my worry lines (ok, more like my fair share of wrinkles). It wasn't easy learning how to cook when I couldn't boil water, trying to raise kids when I was so clueless on mothering, and moving around a lot during nearly 46 years of marriage. But boy did I feel old, out of touch, even ancient, when I started thinking about simple pieces of cloth today.

 

Shannon w/ grandpa Rich. Don't think he was changing her diaper. June, 1971...

 

Ariana...

 

Let me set the stage for you. It was May, 1990. We had been living in Michigan for about 3 years. John and I had done something remarkable. Monumental actually. We had both stopped smoking, cold turkey on May 5th. It was about 2 weeks later. Neither of us had yet spoken ONE civil word to each other. But we hadn't snuck any smokes either. The insides of John's cheeks (the upper ones in his head) were gnawed and chewed up, resembling ground chuck from chomping gum with a vengeance 24-7. I'd like to say I remained cool, calm and collected, but I was a mess too. Headaches, insomnia, major bitchy-ness plaguing me big time. Joshua was 15, Adam, 10. Shannon was 19. It was the end of her freshman year at Michigan State.

 

Shannon, Joshua, John, me and Adam. About 1990...

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Mom...

Looking over my blog posts, I realize not many have been about Mom. And most of the ones I've written about her haven't been in a very positive light. Slightly askew. Sorry Mom. I know much of your life wasn't easy. An unhappy marriage. Tragically losing your 12 year old son Larry in 1958, when you were only 32. I think these insurmountable challenges throughout your life were almost more than you could bear.

 

Mom and newborn me, early 1951...

Becca...

She just appeared one Wednesday morning at staff meeting. Curious, we gawked and waited. Preacher man, alias Two Fish for those keeping up with my blog, introduced us to Becca. She would soon be graduating from seminary with a MDiv degree. Our children's director position had been open for a couple months again. TF had canned the last two directors since I'd been working for him, maybe 3 years. Which was odd since we hardly had any children in the congregation. Guess he thought he should just keep hiring people until one miraculously started mass-producing kids from thin air for our aging church.

 

Becca, 2008...

Ann & Robert...

They were both retired when they moved back to Muskegon, 20 some years ago. Ann had an aging mother, and a spinster aunt living here, both of whom needed help. Bob and Ann had lived most of their married lives in Greenville, which is northeast of Grand Rapids. Muskegon is northwest of Grand Rapids. They were familiar with the area and had their church papers transferred back to the same church they had attended when they lived here years ago. It was like coming home. There were many renewed friendships, and this move fit them like a glove.

 

Ann and Bob, about 2000...