The Color Purple

I was 21 the first time I read The Color Purple. I picked up a copy at the local Safeway, started reading and didn't quit until the last page was turned. Ceilie, what a woman you are. Next came the movie which I have seen a time or two and now, in just a few short months I will see it on stage, set to music. A full circle moment. I think I may have to revisit the prose just to remind myself of the beauty of Alice Walker's words. The story she tangles up in the emotions of my mind. The relationships, good, bad, ugly, implied. I can't wait to see the rise of this woman on stage. You go Ms. Celie, you go!!!

"Aunt" Jemimah

This is Lily Kate. She is my sweet granddaughter full of life and her own very interesting take on this world. I always love to get her view on things I usually learn something. Her mom is going to have a baby. It took Lily a few days before she could grasp the idea of her mommy having a baby in her tummy after all Auntie Backle just had McKenna in her tummy and you could definitely tell that something was going on inside. It was big and round and even moved every now and again. She could touch it, feel it move, but her mommies tummy was just the same as it always was. It took her sister Iris to convince her that the whole thing wasn't a joke. Now come the questions. With much though she asked me one day if her mommy was going to have her tummy cut open like Backle. I explained that mommy would have her new baby brother or sister a different way, but it would be up to mommy to tell her how. Lily was fine with that and our conversation went on to more important things like could she have her candy that we had bought at the store for after dinner. A few days went by and my phone rang it was Jazzie, Lily's mommy, calling to tell me that she and Lily had had a little talk and she, like me, had learned a little something from having spent some time chatting with Lily. Now, as you know most families have names for certain areas of their children's anatomy. Jazz has always referred to the girls private parts as their "girl spots". This has been fine up until now. As Jazzie tried to explain that the new baby would emerge into this world via her girl spots. Lily looked very confused, so began the use of correct terminology. Mommy has a vagina, (the big V word), just like your girl spots, Jazzie explained and the baby slides through it and out the opening and into the world. Lily contemplated this new word and realized with much joy that she too had a Jemimah! Now, I ask you, my fellow sisters, isn't Jemimah a much sweeter word that the ol' "V" word? I say let us unite and together make the change. From now on we birth our children through our Jemimah, menstruate, make love... You get the picture. Historically it has been men who have come up with alternative names for that very sacred place. Now we as women can fight back and instead of some nasty and ugly name that a man has come up with we as women can stand together for change and embrace our JEMIMAH.

Loss

I suffered a loss this weekend. She didn't die, she just ceased being the woman she was and finished the metamorphosis she has been going through for the last twelve or so years. I am void of feeling. Empty. Sad. She is here on this earth, in this world and yet the last glimmer of the person she was, the woman I grew up with and admired, the woman I hoped to emulate someday is gone. In a word I know she would understand our relationship has become "toxic" to me. I know that if I continue to nurture this relationship I will only get hurt and am I willing to continue in hope that she will return? I think not. I must take a stand for myself, for my heart and just say good bye. Now, I am left with this dilemma. Do I tell her I love her with every beat of my heart, but something has changed between us and I can't continue putting myself in this position, or do I quietly walk away and cherish my sweet memories??? What would Christ do? I know that he would continue to love, but how would He, have me, for a lack of a better word, behave in this situation?



In this life we play at the relationship game. We love, we laugh, we cry, we are passionate, lazy, carefree, obsessed, tired, sated and in the end we hope that we have left a legacy of love. That those who matter to us know they were indeed loved. Someone I know once told me she wanted her Epitaph to read, "She loved Well". The words people would remember her by when she has left this world. The simple little words that come to mind when her loved ones reminisce over coffee during the holidays.. She Loved Well. What more could someone want than to be remembered with such elegant words. I have thought over the years about this little sentence and I hope my loved ones know that I love them... I love them to the moon and back (thank you Lily), that I love them just as they are, that they are what keeps me alive, they are what gives this journey meaning. Now as I look back at her and some of my most cherished memories include her and as of late some of my saddest. My heart and my head are in a wrestling match and I don't know which will win. So I pray. I pray Lord lead me. Father help me to not become bitter. Holy Creator wrap me in your love and keep me from this world. Show me Father, how to love and still keep the boundaries that I need. Heavenly Counselor give me wisdom. Prince of Peace humble me and make my heart sweet again. Jesus hear my words and know they come with love. Amen



And now I know I have done all that I can do.

Together

She is married! Red wedding dress and all. The ceremony was beautiful and even though there were a few little glitches they made no difference in the end. To see the joy on her face was enough to erase any stress from my memory. Now, the picture... One might expect the bride and groom, or at least the wedding party, but my son-in-law Dylan took this picture and maybe it might seem a bit silly, but it's my favorite. Now that all the girls are grown and on their own it isn't often we are all in the same place at the same time. Here we are my beautiful girls and me. I cherished the moment this picture was taken. Chaos everywhere, wedding guests milling about, the final touches on the decorating going on, keep the groom away the bride is out and he can't see her yet, it goes on and on, but right at that minute the world stopped for me and I was surrounded by the beauty of my girls. I could feel the warmth of them, smell them, each their own scent sweet, spicy. I could see them, touch them and be reminded of the miracle they are. My babies all grown up. Women, beautiful women. Did I have anything to do with that? Pride tells me yes, I formed them all, but honesty reminds me they are who they are despite me. I would be such a liar to say that I have no regrets in the way they were raised. On the other hand I am pleased in so many ways of their upbringing. They know what is important and the material isn't even near the top of their lists. I hope that is because their father and I instilled family in that spot. So here in the place I had set aside to lament on the walk down the aisle, the flowers, the music, the food, the kiss, I have strayed from the path and taken the one traveled by the mother of the bride. That path that you can't help but linger on when your little princesses become women and all you long for is to feel them snuggled up close with their heads beneath your chin, their little face against your chest where they can hear the beating of your heart beat just for them and they know beyond any doubt that they are loved. Sometimes the path feels so long and steep, but in reality it is a short little lane and the time spent there is unforgettable. So for you Jazzie, my baby in red, I am so happy for you and I hope you can forgive my selfish moment and understand that this picture warms my heart and reminds me that for a few moments we were all together and you all knew you were loved.

Big Sister

From this day forward Olivia, like it or not, happy about it or annoyed, you will be known as Sissy, Sis, Sister, Big Sissy, oh precious girl it goes on and on. The days of Olivia will fade and you will just be Sis. I promised I would never do that to your mommy or your cousins, but it happened. One day without even knowing it I called Iris Sis. She is no more my Mimi, she is Sis or Sister. I don't say this to take anything away from you. I say this because it is an honor to be the oldest. It is a place of esteem to be the big Sister. MaKenna will adore you and soon she will follow you wherever you go. She will want to be just like you. She will think you hung the moon and lit the stars. So Olivia, my Liver Sue, be a good big Sister. Love your little sissy and help your mommy. Mostly though know that when you are with your Nana that even though I may call you Sister, I know that you are Olivia. You are now and will always be my Livie Girl.. Even when I slip up and call you Sis.

7 Days and Counting

Seven more days Makenna and then I can hold you in my arms. I will whisper in your ear those words I have spoken to every grand child. Those words meant only for you, "who loves you like I do?" And someday you will answer me, "No one." And you, my precious girl, will be right because no one in this entire great big world will ever love you quite the way I do. You and me, we share a secret bond. I, after all, am your Granny. I think God made a special place for grandchildren and grandparents. Kind of like that special thing between a father and a daughter. No one can exactly explain it. It is what it is and what it is is SPECIAL. I look forward to our meeting. That day that you emerge from your mommy's womb all pink and warm. Wide eyed to the bright lights and big noise that met you as you entered. Vulnerable now and in need of protection. But, baby girl, you may have to wait a few minutes to have my undivided attention because your Mama may need me too. It is a strange and beautiful adventure for a mom to watch her babies have babies of their own. Both fear and excitement wash over and tears fall both happy and sad. No mother wants her daughter afraid or in pain and the fact is that birthing is full of both. My baby girl, my baby girl, is twenty four, well almost, and she is having her second baby. I am saddened because I cannot witness your entry. They wont let me in for the C-section. I guess sadness may be too harsh a word. I have a need.. a need to hold my daughter's hand and wipe the sweat from her brow. A need to wipe away tears when they fall. A need tiny baby, to hear your first cry, see you take your first breath and know that you are strong for this world. A need again, to see my daughter when you take these firsts and know that she too is well and that the fears of the last nine months have turned only to the awe of meeting you. Your little fingers wrapped tightly around hers, your lips shaped like an "O" searching for her milk, your eyes open and locked on hers when you see her, your mommy for the first time. So many firsts happen in the first hour of your life... I don't want to miss even a second, but I will settle for what I get. I will have too. MaKenna just know that your Grammy is waiting for you. I am waiting for my turn to feel your little baby cheeks against my face, to feel your infant body curled against my chest, to smell the sweet smell of your head as it lays just beneath my chin, and to hear the labor of your newborn breath. And tell your Mommy that I am so proud of her. I am proud that she bore you and blessed that she will share you and a little sad that my baby isn't really a baby anymore.

She's Getting Married

She's getting married, my baby girl. She has been a mom for nine years. A woman before her time, yet somehow it didn't taint her. It hasn't made her bitter to give up her childhood it has made her gentle, strong, loving, proud, beautiful, generous....... She has done all the things that a wife and mother do all without the bonds of marriage. Now in just over a month she will become a wife. Brian's wife. A boy who in his own right became a man too early, his own childhood haulted, a father and a boy all at the same time. He is a good man full of integrity. I love him as my own and I am proud of this man. But this is about my little girl, my Jazzie. We watched again for the third time today Mama Mia. I spent the entire movie crying today. I think for the first time it hit me that she is getting married. She and Brian have been together thirteen years and for the last nine they have shared a home. They have beautiful children and together they work hard to make a happy family. I look at her and I see a little girl full of life. I look at her and I know she is a woman. As we plan this long awaited day I see the confidence she once had coming back to her I see the joy in her face and I can feel the worth she feels in herself. You see in these last few years I have watched as this girl full of joy has shrunk back from herself and lost faith in who she was. I didn't know what to do for her. I know it is something women go through. That feeling of what am I here for? That feeling of thinking I am not good enough. I am not as pretty as I once was. I am tired. I am trying and no one notices. Mom, mom, mom, mom.......... Who am I? Where is Jazzie... She is right here my sweet girl, she never left you. I wish she could see herself through my eyes. I am in awe of her. She is a great mom. Her children are happy and they know they are loved. She is a good wife (I can't say the word girlfriend it just doesn't apply). She is a good friend. She is generous and always willing to help anyone who needs it. I see her wrestling a bit with her spirituality and growing into a woman who walks with the Lord and knows the importance of Christ in her life. But mostly what I see when I look at her is my little girl with her twinkly eyes. The simple things make her happy and she knows that the most important things in life are the small ones. Those perfect moments when your soul and surroundings are in harmony and all is well in the world. She is a woman who takes on life without fear, but still calls her mom everyday. I still want to make the world a safe place for her I want to hold her on my lap and let her know Mommy's got you baby girl and I will never let anything bad happen to you but, I know we are way past that. She has taught me so much about love and grace and mercy and what being a mom is all about. I guess if I could say anything to her at this time in her life it wouldn't be any words of wisdom about how to be the best wife you can be, nope , not even close to that, I would tell her thank you. Thank you for being my daughter, my friend, my teacher. Thank you Jazzie, for being you and for letting me everyday share your life with you. Thank you Jazzie for being you.