parents
Unconditional Love Is Heaven On Earth
When I was a little girl, I remember going to my grandparents’ home during the summers. I couldn’t wait for the summer to arrive, to get to spend time with them. It was always magical. The months leading up to those wonderful stays were always filled with anticipation and excitement.
Always having something to look forward to adds to the enjoyment and contentment of life. Whether it’s an upcoming event or something we are looking forward to, such trying an adventurous activity, or reading that new book you’re excited to dive into. Books have always been for me a bit of a mental vacation, because you can relax, while going places to imaginative places in your mind.
I believe the magic and enjoyment of getting to spend time with my grandparents came from it being filled with love and attention. Thinking back now, they were the only adults, when I was younger, who gave me their full attention and truly unconditional love. They were never too busy to sit and talk with me, or share stories from their childhood, which I found very fascinating.
Not all Grandparents are alike though. Some can be all about gossip, judgment, neglect, even abuse, and not the best role models. I was lucky that on my mother’s side of the family this was not the case. My maternal grandparents had all the traits and attributes one would imagine a truly loving grandparent to have.
I have memories of being in tears when having to leave and go back home. There I just spent my days alone in my room, as my parents were often too busy with church and other social groups they were involved in. I suspect all that time I was forced to spend on my own, helped me to expand and open my mind, to tap into those deeper areas of the psyche that are often left dormant.
Memorialize Loved Ones With A Remembrance Table
I have a remembrance table in my home where I display framed pictures of my grandparents, as well as some of the possessions they passed on to me. My eclectic collection also includes a few candles, angel figurines, some essential oils, Grandma’s favorite perfume, grandpa’s favorite cologne, as well as two trees on either side of the table, which I always decorate for the holidays.
My grandparents really enjoyed the holidays. They especially celebrated Halloween and Christmas, their two favorite holidays of the year. The other holidays were also a great time to be at their house, but Halloween and Christmas were always the best!
I believe having a remembrance table, or ancestor altar, really helps to connect us with our loved ones, after they’ve crossed over. I personally don’t worship my ancestors, but I do honor them. You don’t just have to make a remembrance table at a loved one’s funeral, or at weddings or family gatherings. You can make it a permanent part of your home decor, and have it there all year long.
I love the idea of the remembrance table because a funeral should not be the only time you celebrate the life of a deceased loved one. It’s a great way to honor them and the wonderful memories you have to create with them when they were alive.
I’ve put special photographs from different times in their life that were especially joyous and memorable. Family was everything to them, so many of the pictures also include other relatives, such as uncles and their other grandchildren.
Is It Worth Your Health And Happiness?
We are usually deep in conversation, accompanied by a lot of belly laughs, when I meet with my group of crochet girlfriends every other week. We meet around a large table, yarn in hand, to make lots of wonderful goodies to give away at Christmas, or whatever festive holiday is upon us.
Things turned serious at a recent gathering, when one of the gals in our group starting talking about her daughter, who recently separated from her husband. She said a few things about their situation and then looked up at me, but decided not to ask, as I was there for fun and not to be asked any psychic questions.
My friends know that when I’m at our crochet circle, it is about taking a break from my work and just having some fun with the girls! But it’s not always so easy.
She quickly tried changing the subject, but the other ladies started to talk about their own children. Some of the older gals even brought up their grandchildren who were recently divorced, or separated.
Many comments were made like, “Times are tough,” and, “These days things aren’t the same as they were when we were growing up,” and “Life is no longer as simple as it used to be back in the day,” and also, “Technology is ruining a lot of couples these days.”
‘Decoration Day’ At The Old Home Place
Memorial Day, which we referred to as ‘Decoration Day’ in my family, is full of precious childhood memories and nostalgia for me. My folks were of Southern heritage mostly, although I grew up in Oklahoma. We lived in the country, on an acreage we called ‘The Old Home Place,’ because it had been handed down for generations.
We had big ole vegetable gardens. In fact, we called one of them a ‘truck patch,’ because it was so large. Soul food, ya know. Nothing better! The truck patch covered five acres. A truck patch is when so many vegetables are produced, there’s enough to truck them out commercially, although we never did. We gave all our friends and relatives what we couldn’t preserve (can) and store in the cellar. In those days we all shared whatever we had.
We also had a small vegetable garden right behind our house, for every day fresh veggies, such as beds of lettuce. In front, we had a potato patch. In other areas there were blackberry bushes, a pecan orchard, a fruit orchard, plums, blueberries, and so on. We were pretty much self-sustaining.
All of the vegetable gardens were plowed by hand with mules, in rows for planting. I used to help with the planting and canning when I was just a little girl. We also butchered our own chickens, pigs and cattle, and made lye soap in a big ole iron pot outside on a wooden fire…all in the old ways. I don’t miss butchering the critters and to this day, I can’t eat animal flesh, except for fish and seafood.
How To Block The Energy Of Negative People
It seems that negativity and negative people are becoming more prevalent these days. Just a decade ago, I can remember people being afraid to be “publicly negative.” No one wanted to be seen as being negative, or as someone that brought others down.
I find myself avoiding large groups and big events, because I just don’t want negativity and lower vibrations impacting my happy life. But I do go to activities and fun events for the sake of my 3-year-old child, and often some of the moms, women who are forming impressionable minds, can’t seem to help themselves, but go to the negative! A few weeks ago, for example, I complimented a mom on her daughter’s excellent vocabulary and she told me no one had ever said anything like that to her before. She said people just tear each other down nowadays. How sad.
I am currently five months pregnant. I keep having other moms asking me how I am feeling, which is very nice. However, when I say I feel great, they seem surprised, even sometimes put off. They ask, “You don’t have any unpleasant symptoms?” Well, yes. Of course, I do. I’m pregnant! But whatever the symptom is, mild though it may be, it is still a gift to me – a pleasant reminder that I am so incredibly lucky. Even when I got morning sickness, I remember thinking during it, it’s okay, it’s okay, it will be over soon. You’re lucky. This means you’re pregnant!
Actually, I am up writing this blog at 3:00am, because I have pregnancy insomnia. Right now, I am up, because I am pregnant. It’s okay. I’ll sleep properly again in another five years, when both of my kids are older. Meanwhile, I’m getting a lot done that I can’t do during the day.
The Spiritual Power Of Your Voice
With so many talent shows on television these days, there seems to be so much singing talent all over world. The exposure created by these reality shows allows otherwise unheard of individuals to find an international platform for their gifts. Some of their voices bring us alive, others pull back our deeper layers of emotion, and some simply reduce us to tears.
There are youngsters taking the stage on some of these shows who have the voices of angels. Some have never even had a day’s professional vocal training and yet, they sing like they’ve had years of coaching to develop what is already a beautiful gift. They were clearly born with their gift. Like many inventors, and also great composers of music and literature, they bring in many lifetimes of their gifts to share with us.
My father was a singer and songwriter and had a lovely voice. He became quite famous when I was still very young. His voice would get people in a happy, nostalgic frame of mind with his sing-along compositions and, as a good-looking man, he sure got the ladies swooning with his ballads!
“If you look inside my throat and inside that of a person who cannot hold a tune, nor has quality in their singing voice, the anatomy is just the same,” he told me once. He then asked me a question, which really was food for thought: “So, where does a beautiful voice come from?”
Through The Looking Glass
We tend to not see ourselves accurately. We too often choose to focus on our shortcomings and weaknesses, such as we perceive them to be. And I believe we are all guilty of this. I have not in all my years met anyone who was truly satisfied with themselves – until it was sometimes too late.
I was just as guilty of this as anyone else. My childhood was one that I wouldn’t have wished on my worst enemy. I was abandoned by both parents when I was very young. I was raised by an aunt and uncle, who took pleasure in reminding me that my parents did not love me. My aunt also took every opportunity to beat the daylights out of me, while my uncle did nothing.
When I hit puberty, several older males in my ‘family’ began to stalk and harass me. I’d go into the kitchen and soon find myself backed up against a wall. Nobody believed me. Nobody did anything to stop it – not even when I was raped at 16 by a family friend’s son, who was deemed to be a “good boy” and “would never do anything like that.”
I could go on and on about all the horrible things that happened to me, but once I turned that momentous age of 16, and having had the experiences that I have had, I left my aunt and uncle’s home. I went to live with my boyfriend, his sister and their mom. When I left, my uncle dumped all my clothes on the front lawn.