Washing away Winter

So many ways to wash away winter, not the least of which is the fact that for at least three days, my son is home. Oh how a hug can brighten up my world.

As I waited for him to come home I decided that I would wash his car for him. It had been sitting under a carport, of sorts, since he left in January. This year we used a water absorbing thing in the interior so that it did not grow mold inside. But there was nothing we could do about the outside. Five months of pine needles, pollen, rain, snow and mud combined to make it just a nasty looking piece of work. But it cleaned up very nice and I couldn't help but think as I was washing it that it was kind of like washing away the entire winter. I was washing away his past for him and now he has only a great, sunny future full of love, new adventures and summer.

Then, of all things, this weekend has been picture perfect weather, mid 70's, light breeze, birds singing all day long, reinforcing this whole theme of washing away the winter. I know that the rain will return but it won't be winter rain anymore.

We will have a BBQ today with Grandma and Grandpa and we will finally be able to meet the girl in my son's life. Again, the first BBQ of the season, the first meeting of someone who could very well be in my son's life forever, therefore in mine, and I am really looking forward to that. I hope she likes us as much as I am sure we will like her. When we throw that first horseshoe or hit that first croquet ball, winter will be officially gone and summer will have arrived.

Finally, I am back on track with weight loss and fitness and am not only washing away winter weight but that winter mentality that had me thinking there was no reason to pay attention to myself. It's just me and my man and he loves me no matter what. But life is simply more enjoyable in the summer, with a healthier body and healthier mind.

Winter is in the rear view mirror and sunshine is shining brightly through the windshield again!

Mom--Why I am who I am

There have been many "mothers" in my life and each one has contributed to me being the person I am today. It started, obviously with my grandmothers, Grandma McQuiston and Grandma Talcott. Grandma Talcott, my mom's mom lived in Iowa so I didn't get to see her much. But I do remember visiting her home when I was 6 and hiding under her bed with my cousin Caroline until the thunder and lightening storm passed. I remember her coming to visit and she was so sympathetic to my brother when he come home from two a day football practices sore from head to toe. I remember going to visit her in California right before she passed away. I envy that my sister was able to know her more than I but I know enough to know that the compassion, intelligence and devotion passed to me from my own mom came from her. Grandma McQuiston, my dad's mom lived in Tacoma and as luck would have it, in her older years I had the privilege of spending a lot of time with her. She was an amazing woman who raised 6 sons through the depression, lost one to WWII, but managed to do whatever was necessary to make those around her happy. Like many senior citizens, she lived on a very limited income but when I was headed to college she took me shopping and bought me a winter coat and a nightgown for the cold winters of Pullman. I saw how she adored my dad, and he adored her, and I saw how this lead to his devotion to her in her final years. She gave this to me and I was able to then give back to my dad in a similar way in his final years.

Without question, my own mother gave to me in more ways that I can know. I ran across this picture of my mom when she was a girl with her dog, Jiggs. I am certain I did this same thing with my dog Darby many times. I wonder if I would have the love of dogs that I have now if my mom had not shared that with me?

Jean Talcott Wicks was really a pioneer in many ways. She was one of the first women in the first group of Navy Waves during WWII where she worked on airplanes. After I was born, she went back to school at UPS and graduated with a teaching degree. Imagine how hard that must have been with four kids! When I went to Kindergarten I got to sit in her second grade class in the afternoon and, although I would not realize it until later in life, I learned what an amazing person she was with such an inherent ability to understand people and their individual needs. I am sure my two sons who are now both teachers got much of this from her.

My mom was also fun loving. She acted in local theater groups. She insisted on family outings in spite of things that may have needed to be done at home. She went along with my dad's craziness at the state photography conventions, this photo is just one example of that. Note: She is wearing one my costumes from Carousel!

But I think most of all, my mom helped me become the Queen of the Beach. Rather than feel it was beneath her to move to Day Island and rent a small house which was slightly tilted with many other odd quirks, she embraced the fact that we were literally 10 feet off of the beach. Until then, I never knew that my mother, raised in the landlocked land of Iowa, was really a beach sole. We spent many days walking on the beach together and had those kinds of talks that are so often not shared these days. She loved days when the storms would hit and the waves would crash against the rocks splashing salt water onto our porch or window. It's easy to love the beach on sunny, warm days but she loved it most on those stormy days. I think that is why she understood my love for the water, my need to stay out in the water or on the shore all day, searching for firewood for our little trash burner on the stove or for treasures that washed up into the rocks, hiding, waiting to be found. How special I feel to have had these times with my mom. I prefer to remember those time and not the later years of her declining health. That is what she would want.

I have aunts, nieces, a sister, and friends who are all wonderful mothers. Terri has given so much love to her babies, Ray and Aaron I know it is hard for her to see her son growing up so much. All I can say is hang in there and know that what you have done for him will always be remembered. Jen devotes herself to her children, Alex and Maddie. They have had more experiences in their short lives than I gave even to my own kids and that was quite a bit. It is my fervent hope that someday these two nieces and four great nieces and nephews can someday get together and understand how special each is in their own way. And Briana is the newest mother of Haywood. She has many great examples from whom to learn and take what she wants from and I am most certain that she will excel in her motherhood. How could she not with a grandmother like my mom.

Finally, I am very fortunate to have a mother-in-law who has really taken over the role of mother for me since my own mother passed away. She will be 90 on her next birthday and she is as vital now as ever. I know from experience how hard it is to see your son grow up and move on in life and for her to take me in and love me as unconditionally as if she were my own mother is an experience I sincerely hope that I will be able to share with my future daughter-in-laws.

So, whoever you are, you are someones child or grandchild and if nothing else, today is a day to think about who you are today and how these special people helped you to get there.

Survival turns to living

I was talking to my very good friend on the phone who lives at Salmon Beach. I follow his blog so check it out if you can. Anyway, I was telling him that I was thinking of changing my blog name to "Queen of the Beach" at the suggestion of my son. This came up after my previous post about dogs in my life. And my friend made the comment that I had survived. I had to think for a minute and indeed, I have survived. There is no longer a need for "Empty Nester Survival".

Survival has turned to living. I guess it is kind of like an accident victim. If the wounds are deep, they need intensive, round the clock care and life as they know it is even in jeopardy. But then, those wounds begin to slowly heal due to that intensive care. At that point they have survived but they have not healed. That takes time. That takes the "one day at a time" philosophy. So they make small strides in their recovery and one day, suddenly they are back to where they were before. Finally, they realize the can live again.

The great thing is that looking to the future, my sons will be such a big part of my living, loving and being happy. I think, no I know, we will always stay connected, they will never be too far away, permanently anyway. The things our parents were able to enjoy with them will be things my husband and I can enjoy with them and whatever families they may have. And, if they never left home this wouldn't be the case. So, it just took me longer than most to realize this.

I have so much to look forward to. I am so lucky to have my life, my husband, my sons and everything that a future with them holds. I have survived. I am living again!

Happy May Day

I realized driving in to work today that it was May 1st, May Day. Most people will say so what but to me, this day has lots of special memories.

May Day Celebrations have their root in history. Check it out: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/May_Day.

In the United States, and what I remember of this day, is the celebration of flowers. I remember growing up and making little paper baskets in school. We would cut strips of different colored paper and weave them together to form a square and then roll that square into a cone, add one strip as a handle and then it was ready to put freshly cut flowers into it. I usually found dandelions and scotch broom for my mom. We always had a May Day Festival at school also. Every class would march out to the playground with their little chairs and form their groups watching the other classes do their little performances, waiting in nervous anticipation for their own moment in the spotlight. Wow, I haven't thought about that in years!

I always loved getting up on May Day because I would go around the neighborhood and put the traditional May Day Baskets of flowers on certain doors. On Day Island, there was an old couple at the end of the road, really ancient to a 10 year old girl. Mr. and Mrs. Dean were fairly reclusive in their lifestyle and most people were quite frankly afraid of them. I, however, being the Queen of the Beach, had come to know them and they weren't scary at all. I loved putting a May Basket on their door, ringing the doorbell and running away. The tradition is that if they open the door and catch you, then they would kiss you. Glad I didn't know about that tradition then.

At some point in my maturation I stopped doing this. But then when I had kids, I thought it would be fun to revive it for them. I can't remember if they still made May Baskets in school by then. But our yard had an entire row of Pinks that would be in bloom right around this time so I would have the boys pick some Pinks and put them together for the neighbors, The Watsons and Cliff and Barb. I would make them sneak up to the doorsteps and put the flowers there, ring the doorbell and run away. The joy this brought to me was only equalled by the humiliation that showed on their faces each time I made them do it (although I think that deep down they did secretly enjoy it).

So, on this May Day, remember to be extra nice to your neighbors and if the urge strikes, surprise someone with flowers. You'll be surprised how good it makes you feel.