Goin' Down to Mama's

Sunday Morning Serenity

Some friends and I were recently talking about things we just HAD to have when we were kids—Baby Tender Love, Barbie, an EZ Bake Oven, Slinky, a cool bike, a BB gun . . . As teenagers, we graduated to platform shoes, Chic jeans or Levis, pierced ears, and enough hot rollers, makeup mirrors, and beauty products to stock Sephora. College? Western gear. (What can I say? It was the Urban Cowboy era.) Then on to power suits and shoulder pads and Dynasty. I remember convincing myself to buy a "statement purse," which I had read about in whatever fashion magazine that was controlling my wallet at the time. I spent $150 on it at the old (and wonderful) Parisian department store in Birmingham. Within a year, I had grown just as tired of it as all those $40 purses I had gone through.

What do we just HAVE to have—really? God's love. Christ's gift of grace and forgiveness. Each other. "Faith, hope, and charity." Peace of mind and heart. (New carpet for the guest room? Entirely optional:)

 

 

Sunday Morning Serenity

Yesterday I decided to do something I hadn't done in ages—I got a manicure. For no particular reason. (I've never been able to do my own nails because I have the world's shakiest hands and end up painting my fingers instead of my nails. So it's hire a pro or go au naturel.)

I walked into a salon I had never visited and soon found myself paying strict attention to the sharp directions and hand signals of an older Asian gentleman. Although we had a bit of a language barrier, it quickly became clear that he was not interested in assuring my comfort. He was interested in making sure I didn't mess up his work—which was quite good. Still, I was a little uncomfortable with his drill-sergeant approach to customer service. At one point, he had me cross one arm over the other so he could polish my right hand while I held the left one under a little fan WAY on the other side of the table. I looked like I was playing Twister. When he motioned for me to uncross my arms and give him my other hand, I got so flustered that I couldn't remember which hand went with which arm and gave him back the one he just polished. At first, we looked at each other in utter confusion and then, in the same split second, we burst out laughing. Barrier down. Tension ended. Communication achieved. After that, we were friends. I'll be going back.

A little laughter makes any situation better. Remember the old Mary Tyler Moore episode when Chuckles the Clown met his tragic end? Everybody in Mary's circle was cracking jokes about it, and she kept chastising them for disrespecting the dead. Then, at the funeral, her co-workers were all serious, but Mary . . . Have a laugh for Chuckles this morning:

 

 

Sunday Morning Serenity

Oblivion. That's the word of the day:) I have done my share of whining about the meanness in the world these days, and there's plenty to whine about. But sometimes I think oblivion is just as bad—when we're completely unaware of the people around us—what they're going through and what they might need from us. I feel it every time I nearly get mowed down by someone who's so busy cyber talking to people who aren't physically present that they don't realize they're about to step on a real live person right in front of them. And I'm guilty of it every time I toss a "how's it goin'" to a colleague at work and keep walking. I should stop and take the time to see how it's really going for them that day. 

When somebody's outright mean to you, at least you have something concrete to deal with. But when they're just oblivious, you're rendered invisible, and that can feel even worse. Throughout the year there will be X Awareness Months—designated times to heighten our awareness of particular needs or causes. Maybe we should add Each Other Awareness to that list. I know I need to.

Committing to making myself more aware of the people around me this Sunday morning.

Sunday Morning Serenity

Dave and I are feeling very blessed this morning. His family was supposed to have a 90^th birthday party for his mother, whom I’ve always called “Miss Mary.” But she fell a couple of weeks ago and broke some ribs—extremely painful, I’ve always heard. The party had to be cancelled, but we drove up to see her anyway. We were both worried that we would find her in a hospital bed, frail and in pain. To our great joy and surprise, we had it all wrong.

We found her looking beautiful, with her hair done and a pretty outfit on, sitting up in a wheel chair and moving about her room just fine. She spent the afternoon visiting and playing games with her kids and grandkids. I know she and her family caregivers have been down a long road that we couldn’t see from Birmingham, and we don’t take her great progress for granted. We’re just so grateful for answered prayer.

And then I called my folks to check on things, and Daddy was feeling much better—he’s getting a little of his old mischief back. They’re looking in on Hank and Cheeto for us, and I can tell that Cheeto has finally won Mama over. She’s a big fan of senior kitty Hank and did NOT appreciate the way Cheeto the interloper aggravated him. But apparently the same charms that got Cheeto into our house to begin with have won Mama over. Peace reigns.

I know the things I’m sharing are personal victories that don’t have anything to do with you. But we all have them, don’t we? Little things that are really very big things to each of us. The scarier it gets in The Big World, the more precious every birthday, every smile, every tiny moment of joy becomes. Giving thanks this Sunday morning.