BEST MOMENT AWARD

Best Moment Award for post, “Que Sera, Sera”

Dear Mom,

Do you remember the December 2012 post “Que Sera Sera”?  It was about our neighbor building a fallout shelter, and the funny secret–and a serious lesson–you shared with me about why we didn’t want to also build a shelter.

Last week Brittnay DeLong of http://busygirlhealth.wordpress.com/ selected “Que Sera Sera” for a special award. The BEST MOMENT AWARD is different from other awards because it’s for only one post, a reader’s favorite “best moment.”  ”Que Sera Sera” was one of your favorite posts, too.  When I read the post aloud to you, we laughed about how the schools had children hiding under their desks, and parents were encouraged to have special “plans” ready during the Cold War. (For the complete post, go to  http://warnerwriting.wordpress.com/2012/12/23/que-sera-sera-2/ )  For both of us, Mom, I proudly accept this award and sincerely thank Brittnay.

Today our blog, “Things I Want To Tell My Mother,” is nominating 8 special, specific posts for the BEST MOMENT AWARD.  These are truly  exceptional and memorable posts, and we hope our readers will click on the links and enjoy them:

~Darla Writes http://darsba.wordpress.com/2013/05/11/mothers-day-stories-collection/

~The Best Chapter http://thebestchapter.com/2013/04/30/tool-for-tuesday-if-you-lose-it-you-lose-it/

~Poems from Oostburg, Wisconsin http://ellenolinger.wordpress.com/2013/05/15/help-thanks-wow-by[anne-lamott/

~Earthrider http://earth-rider.com/2013/04/20/musical-memories-and-love/

~Just Rod http://reflectionsinpuddles.com/2013/05/15/the-new-shoes/

~Wacky World of Writing http://tracycampbell.net/blog/meet-budding-picassos/

The last two award nominees have very diverse posts, but their stories about being bloggers (one in America and the other in the UK) who became friends and visited with their families and then wrote posts about the visit deserve an award for each of them!

~Is it me?  http://tomstronach.blog.spot.com/2012/09/julia-and-oscar_8.html

~Julia Barrett’s World http://juliarachelbarrett.net/2012/09/new-friends/

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Rules for the BEST MOMENT AWARD:  1. These nominees (now winners) repost these rules completely after their acceptance speech. 2. Winners now have the privilege of awarding the next awardees! The re-post should include a Thank You for those who helped them, a NEW list of people and blogs worthy of the award (up to 15), and the winners posted here will then notify their choices with the great news of receiving this special award.    Download the award's logo at MomentMatters.com/Award and post it with your acceptance.

Cold War prep. ~ LIFE Mag.

Marylin Warner and her mother Mary Shepherd with “Flat Grace” project

WHAT WE SEE

Abandoned farm house. (All photos by Marylin Warner)

Dear Mom,

During a trip to Colorado Springs many years ago, you visited my high school English classes.  In one class we were beginning Transcendentalism, and I wrote this quote on the board: “The question is not what you look at, but what you see.” ~ Henry David Thoreau 

I displayed pictures of houses—very old, decrepit houses—and told the students to choose one and write for ten minutes about what they saw and what might have happened there.  Sitting in the back of the room, you lifted a little notebook from your purse, closed your eyes and thought for a moment, then took a breath and began to write.

When the students shared what they’d written, the usual responses ranged from eerily sad tales to creepy horror scenes.  Much later you showed me the beginning of the free verse you’d written that day. Eventually it became a full narrative poem, but here’s what you wrote in the early draft:

Gone from the warped and bare front porch

The soft weary voices of evening—

And the steady creak of the porch swing

As weary ones rest from their labors,

Relax from the plow and the washboard.

 

Great are the secrets you hold there,

And the love that was whispered in evening.

But gone are your voices forever,

As the broken glass of the windows,

And the rusted spring at the screen door.

                   From “Lonely House” by Mary E. Shepherd 

I post this for your friends and family, Mom, and especially for your great-grandchildren who would otherwise never know your feelings about farm life in the 1920-30’s, and the beauty you found in simple daily events.  What you wrote is a reminder of your gentle and hopeful spirit.

_____________________________

“Everything has beauty, but not everyone sees it.”  ~Confucius

“What you see and hear depends a good deal on where you are standing; it also depends on what sort of person you are.”  ~C.S. Lewis

“What we see depends mainly on what we look for.”  ~ Sir John Lubbock, English writer and archaeologist

100th Post on “Things I Want To Tell My Mother”

1978 ~ Mary reading to two of her grandchildren

2007 ~ Mary reading to her great-grandchildren

Dear Mom,

Wow, May 4^th is ONE HUNDRED posts on our blog!  Amazing.

Our first post was on September 1^st of  2011. Since then we’ve shared stories about your life growing up on the farm in Missouri, raising your own family in Kansas, helping children through teaching, volunteering with CASA, and stepping in to help anyone who needed help.  We’ve held writing contests with cash prizes in your name—Mother’s Day Greeting Card Writing, Christmas Memories, and Poetry Writing—and we’ve shared some of your poems, essays and illustrated stories.  We’ve reminded readers of many unusual days on the calendar and posted inspiring quotes, favorite recipes and titles of books we’ve enjoyed.  We’ve featured friends and your great-grandchildren as guest bloggers, and we’ve shared information about Alzheimer’s and dementia.

We never missed a week, and some weeks we posted twice!

In the process, we greeted visitors and made new friends from all over the United States, from the UK, Canada, Australia, India, Israel and sixty-four other countries. These are readers who’ve laughed with us, cried at some of our stories, and cheered us on by sharing their stories. We are very grateful for all of them.

Today, for our 100^th post we’re going to share some interesting details about May, the month of our celebration.

The Roman poet Ovid wrote that the month of May is named for the maiores, Latin for “elders.”  In 1963, President John F. Kennedy established May as Older Americans Month. This is a month to respect seniors and celebrate longevity, which includes you, Mom, at the respectful age of almost 95!

When I was in elementary school, on the last day of April you and I made little holders of rolled construction paper and braided yarn for the handles. On May 1^st we picked crocus, daffodils and tulips, or if spring didn’t cooperate we filled the holders with small cookies and candy. I’d hang the little May Day baskets from the front door knobs of older neighbors’ houses, ring the bell, call out “Happy May Day!” and hurry away.

Next week, May 8^th is No Socks Day for all ages.  The idea is to set your toes free and give your feet a breath of fresh air. Go barefoot and smile at the comfort of cool grass, warm sand or swishing water.

The next day, May 9^th, follow up with Lost Sock Memorial Day. Search through drawers or behind the dryer, but if you can’t find the missing sock, take its lonely mate and give it a solitary use: as a dust cloth, a holder for buttons or coins, or make a hand puppet for a child or a chew toy for a pet. Or just dispose of it (gently, of course).

Next Sunday is the well known and widely celebrated Mothers Day, May 12.

A lesser known day is Saturday, May 11—Birth Mothers Day—which is more private. This day was originally set up for mothers to spend quiet moments thinking about or praying for the children they gave up for adoption…or for adopted children to do the same for their birth mothers.  It is intended as an anonymous tribute, and some houses of worship have special candles or flower vases set up for Birth Mothers to give prayers and thanks for the love and care given by Adoptive Mothers.

And finally, the last week of May is National Simultaneous Storytime, which we wish American parents, grandparents, teachers and librarians would vote to implement for our nation’s children.  In Australia, children’s libraries hold a special event where all public and school librarians read aloud the same book on the agreed upon day, at 11AM EST, to the children everywhere in Australia!

Well, Mom, this has been our 100^th post. Let’s thank our reading friends and give them cyber hugs for sharing in our adventure…and then it’s nap time.  Next week is post #101, and we’ll need our rest.

2010 ~ Mary’s great-grandchildren on farmer-type playground toys in Kansas (all photos by Marylin Warner)

1983 ~ Alien grandchildren on Mary’s front porch

TO ONE WHO COULD NOT STAY

Picture of Grace Shipley’s engagement to   Ivan Ray Shepherd

Grace and Ivan’s son Ray at one year, and at age 6, three years after Grace’s death.

Dear Mom,

When your granddaughter Molly came for a visit and brought her children, Grace and Gannon, I reminded you that Grace had been named for Dad’s mother, a devoted and loving young woman who died of meningitis when Dad was only three years old.  When I told you this, you shook your head and said, “Oh?” And later, when I tried again, you asked, “Do I know her?  Was she my friend?”

No, Mom, you never actually knew Grace Shipley Shepherd.  But I do believe that you two became friends because of your grateful heart for the woman who gave birth to the baby…who grew into the man you married.

You don’t remember this, but thirty-eight years ago you wrote a poem to Grace.  You sometimes felt her presence, the spirit of the woman who lost her battle against a horrible disease and could not stay to take care of the little boy she loved so much.  You also wrote some beautiful, very personal letter-type essays to Grace, but I know you wouldn’t want those shared, so I won’t.

Here, Mom, is your poem “To Grace,” your tribute and comfort to the woman who had to leave her child behind.  Sometimes during clear moments when I’ve shown you pictures of Dad as a baby, held by his smiling mother, Grace, you pause and close your eyes.  I like to believe that now Dad is gone, reunited with the mother he lost too soon, he and Grace both smile and send their love and thanks to you.

TO GRACE, 1897-1922   ~  by Mary E. Shepherd

I watch him sleep, so like a little boy,

Content so long as his hand touches mine.

Husband, dad and granddad kind and dear,

The glint of dreams come true when our eyes meet.

 

I think of how, a three year old, he lost you,

His mother, whom he loved so very much.

You were so ill, a terrible pain within you,

Unable to express the love you knew.

 

Then when you died he sat in his daddy’s arms,

Aware that something great had left his life.

And when he looked upon your lifeless face

He searched in vain for the sweet smile he knew.

 

No one could take the place of his lost loved one,

Though his dad was good and did the best he could.

Grandma became the one who understood, his mainstay,

To help him through the years a young boy knew.

 

For fifty years my dearest, my husband and a little boy!

I’ve known the love you planted in his heart.

Kind, good, and loving, he shares my life each day,

As many paths we have traveled, side by side.

 

Together we have loved our little boy:

The one you gave to me.  

Engagement picture of Mary Elizabeth and Ray (Grace’s son)

Mary and Ray’s great-grandchildren, Gannon (left) and  Grace  (named for Ray’s mother)

STAYING LONGER

Frisbee Golf, waiting for players. (All photos by Marylin Warner)

Maggie: This is Spring? Wow! Cool.

Pikes Peak~ Springtime in the Rockies.

Dear Mom,

In the last two weeks, Spring burst out in Kansas with greening lawns  accented with bright yellow, purple and white crocus blossoms.  Spring also brought tornado warnings to Ft. Scott, along with hail the size of golf balls. During that same time, in Colorado winter stayed longer and lived up to its reputation of “Springtime in the Rockies,” which means bursts of snowstorms and bitter winds.

Remember when David and I were in elementary school and everyone in southeast Kansas woke up to a late winter storm of nearly two feet of snow?  Our cousins George and Glee had come from Missouri to spend the night and were supposed to go home that day. Because of the blizzard they stayed four extra days, and we kids were in heaven.  Markus Zusak could have been writing about us in his novel, The Book Thief, when he said, “A snowball in the face is surely the perfect beginning to a lasting friendship.” The four of us built snow forts and tunnels in the back yard, launched snowball wars, and peeled out of wet boots, hats, mittens and coats at the back door so we could come inside and warm up with hot chocolate and oatmeal cookies.

On the last day, when the roads were cleared and we learned our cousins would leave the next morning, I sneaked into the laundry room to take Glee’s clean socks that waited to be packed. I planned to hide them behind the piano, certain that she couldn’t go home if she didn’t have her socks. (I admit it was a dumb plan, but I was 8 and doing the best I could, okay?)  You caught me hiding her socks.

While the others got to watch “Superman” on TV, you and I had a sit-down talk in my bedroom. I remember sobbing that it wasn’t fair that my big-girl cousin (Glee was 3 years older) couldn’t stay longer.  You didn’t hug me or console me. You sighed and said that I could either enjoy every hour I had left with my cousins and be grateful for that time…or I could feel sorry for myself, sit and cry, and miss out on all the good things that might happen.

That was more than five decades ago, Mom, but I still remember those options. Even now, when I come to visit you in Kansas, if you’re napping or unresponsive or confused about who I am or why I’m there, I just keep moving. I take out bottles of fingernail polish and ask you to choose the color you like, or I hold up a book and start reading to you, or I open the sack of treats I’ve brought and ask you what looks good. After a while, we’re oohing and aahing as I paint your nails a bright pink, or we’re smiling as I wipe cupcake icing off your mouth. You don’t always realize who I am, but I always love it when you pat my hands and say, “You’re just the nicest girl.”

I don’t try to guess how much longer it will stay like this for our visits each month, but while we are together, we’ll make the most of the time we do have instead of crying because it can’t be longer.  That’s all any of us can do, at any age.

 ________________________________________________

“The Eskimos had fifty-two names for snow because it was important to them; there ought to be as many names for love.”  ~ Margaret Atwood 

“A lot of people like snow. I find it an unnecessary freezing of water.” ~Carl Reiner

“Let every man shovel his own snow, and the whole city will be passable.” ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Hoping for Spring!

Fountain at Cliff House frozen in snow storm.

THE DIFFERENCE ONE PERSON CAN MAKE

Chicken soup. It’s not just for colds and flu. (All pictures by Marylin Warner)

Dear Mom,

When I began writing this blog, my goal was to remember, collect and record as many special memories about you as possible so your grandchildren and great-grandchildren could know how special and wonderful you are. Along the way, you’ve had hours and days when your dementia took a break, and I’ve read to you some of the blog posts and comments from the readers.

This week I would have loved for you to be alert and aware enough to read a very special email from a wonderful friend you and I met through this blog. (http://www.darlawrites.com/)  In our blog last week, I reminded readers about the upcoming April 10 “Encourage a Young Writer” Day. Here is an excerpt of Darla McDavid’s reply:

Hi, Marylin:

I spoke with Chiara for Encourage a Young Writer Day.  Chiara is a fourth grade student who wants to write “adventure and fantasy books” when she grows up. I told Chiara your mother’s name and age, and explained how Mary would love to be standing with her right then to encourage her, if only she could. Then I spoke in Mary’s name and encouraged her to follow that dream. Chiara smiled as she listened.She said to tell your mother “Thank you,” spoken in that pure, sincere way of a child…

With many, many thanks to Darla. Because of her kindness, April 10 also became the day to Encourage an Older Writer and Her Mother.  Each month when I visit you in Kansas, Mom, I will read aloud to you Darla’s full account of working with Chiara. During one of our visits, I believe you will understand and know what a gift this was. To Chiara, to you…and to me.

For the rest of us, it’s no secret that we live in difficult times, face pressures and problems, and often feel overwhelmed by the many demands and disappointments. How do you survive…and thrive?  If you have an experience, a special technique or routine for meeting and defeating obstacles, how about sharing it with others?  In the words of Marcus Aurelius, “The object of life is not to be on the side of the majority, but to escape finding oneself in the ranks of the insane.”

Here are the full details for an excellent writing opportunity from Santa Fe.

30 Days to Sanity: We Want Your Stories!

Do you have heartwarming, insightful, and powerfully moving true stories about how to stay sane in this chaotic 24/7 world? A co-author of the New York TimesBest-selling book series Chicken Soup for the Soul is currently seeking personal stories to be included in 30 Days to Sanity, an online stress/resiliency program. We’re looking for inspirational true stories that give a personal account of an event, an obstacle overcome, a strategy to remain sane, or a lesson learned that helps the reader discover basic principles they can use in their own lives.

Some of the topics we will include are: Getting to Know Yourself, Your Needs & Dreams, Getting Your Priorities Straight, Learning to Listen to Your Heart, Discovering Your Passion, Setting Aside Time for You, Balancing Work & Family, Building a Soulful Community, Learning to Love Your Body, Taking a Mini-Vacation or Playcation, Setting Limits Both at Work and at Home, Putting Technology to Work for You, Making a Meaningful Contribution to the World, Growing From the Bumps in Your Life, Making Technology Free Times to Truly Connect, Creating a Space Just For You, Making Sacred Time for Your Family, Eliminating Time Wasters and Energy Suckers, Managing Technology, Banishing Your Guilt, Celebrating Your Gifts and Strengths, Expressing Appreciation to a Friend or Loved One, Asking for Help or Support, Discovering an Attitude of Gratitude, Using Life as Your Teacher, Cultivating Compassion, or Comic Relief (humorous stories about funny things you’ve done while stressed).  Submit as many stories as you’d like.

Story Length: Up to 1,200 words  Submission Deadline: June 1, 2013

Compensation: $100 one-time use fee for each story accepted for publication

Submit to: stephanie@30daystosanitycom or to 30 Days to Sanity, Box 31453, Santa Fe, NM 87594-1453 (please keep copies as we are unable to return submissions).

How Do You Stay Sane During Rough and Tumble Times???

Do you turn lemons into lemonade?

Do you pray and light a candle?

Do you cuddle with a buddy?

WHAT–AND HOW–WE WRITE

Dear Mom,

Years ago, for your birthday I took you to a writers’ conference. We were walking around before the first session, checking out the bookstore and getting cold drinks. Posted on a wall was a hand written announcement about an upcoming workshop titled “Comming Soon…How To Improve Your Writting.” Yes, coming and writing were misspelled. And it’s was misused for its, plus some other mistakes.  You were so embarrassed for whoever had made the poster. I agreed, but I also didn’t want to point it out in front of others.  So we waited, standing in front of it and blocking the mistakes. Finally a lady came by and asked if we had questions. When we learned it was her poster, we quietly pointed out the errors so she could correct them. You even offered to help.

She laughed. It had been a prop, and we were the only ones who responded.  We received our choices of journals from the bookstore. The title of her speech later was “Why Are Writers Afraid to Help Each Other?”

You could have given that speech, Mom. One of the many things I learned from you is that helping someone else succeed does not take away from our own success. I watched you help children work on their spelling, teens write essays, peers work on poems and short stories.  You could write beautiful passages, but you were also practical and succinct when that was called for. If you were stranded on an island (see above) you definitely would have used stones to write the short, clear, effective message–HELP–and then gone in search of firewood and food.

April is National Poetry Month. Last week you shared your poem, “In God We Trust,” with our blog friends.  Next week, on April 10^th is Encourage A Young Writer Day. If you were still able, you’d be the first one offering to help.  But since you aren’t able, maybe some of the rest of us will step up in your place!

I love you, Mom.

Marylin

Long message posted below a stop sign.

Gannon makes words.

“So the writer who breeds more words than he needs, is making a chore for the reader who reads.”
by Dr Seuss (all pictures by Marylin Warner)

A QUIET, STEADY FAITH

Mary Elizabeth Shepherd now, age 94 1/2 (all pictures by Marylin Warner)

The Shepherd family, 1962

Mary, 1938 and 1988

Dear Mom,

In 1980, you wrote “In God We Trust,” typed a final copy on your manual Remington typewriter, and entered it in an Easter contest. It didn’t win. In fact, one judge wrote on your returned entry that the poem was supposed to be about Easter.  I remember you studying the poem and saying you thought that was exactly what it was about.

I agreed then, Mom, and I still do. And deep inside, I think I’m probably not the only one.

Good job, Mom. Now we’ll share it with our friends.   Love, Marylin

“In God We Trust” by Mary Elizabeth Shepherd, 1980

SHIATSU AND PINEAPPLE

 

 

 

Dear Mom,

April is just around the corner, but the snows and winter winds are still whipping across both Kansas and Colorado.  As everyone sniffles and sneezes, I remember two of the  “healthy” things you used to do for us.

SHIATSU.  Acupuncture is done with needles; the Shiatsu acupressure you studied in the 60s was done with finger pressure, also known as Reflexology. When Dad’s sinuses started aching, you would massage and push/hold the undersides of his toes until they popped…and immediately Dad felt better.

The bottoms of our feet were virtual healing fields in your hands.  You never tickled our feet, but held them firmly in your hands and massaged, pushing and holding the toes, arches and heels, relieving headaches, back pain, and insomnia. And then you taught me to locate the pressure points on my own feet, too, for all kinds of health benefits. Foot rubs have amazing health benefits!

PINEAPPLE.  Recently I read that fresh pineapple is the new multiple-purpose healing fruit. That was no surprise. I grew up watching you buy fresh pineapple, slice it into raw chunks for eating, bake it with ham or chicken or sweet potatoes, and mix it into salads and desserts.  If the grocery store didn’t have fresh pineapple, you bought canned and rinsed off the syrup.  Whenever one of us had a sore throat, you made hot herbal tea and simmered it with pineapple pieces.

The article I read gave all the current data, Mom, and your instincts were right! Pineapple eases indigestion, arthritis, and sinusitis; its manganese is important to developing strong bones and connective tissue. It is also high in Bomelain, an enzyme considered to be an anti-inflammatory, discouraging blood clot formation for frequent fliers.  And this is for Kate Middleton’s royal pregnancy:  pineapple is a natural folk remedy for curing morning sickness!

In addition to advising our blog friends to eat fresh pineapple and rub their own and each other’s feet (not at the same time, though)  let’s also remind them of special days during the last full week of March.

March 27 is National “Joe” Day:  If you aren’t crazy about your name, this is the day to call yourself “Joe” (or, I guess, maybe Jo-Anne?)   March 29 is Smoke and Mirrors Day: This is the day of illusions, when things are not what they appear to be…intended to be used as part of mysteries or teases, not for harm.

And March 30 is “I Am In Control Day”—on March 30, 1981, President Ronald Reagan was wounded in an assassination attempt. Secretary of State Alexander Haig said, “I am in control here.” The press focused on only this part of his statement, and eventually Haig resigned.

Now the context is to remind yourself that YOU ARE IN CONTROL.  (Maybe this is in response to the March 9^th Panic Day I mentioned in an earlier blog. If you did have a Panic Day then, you’re probably ready to get things under control now.)

We can joke and have fun with all these special days, Mom, but this last week of March is also getting ready for Easter.  Next week I’ll share the poem you wrote before Easter in 1980, “ In God We Trust.”  Until then, thank you for the fresh pineapple, the hot tea remedies and healing foot rubs, and especially for the loving attention you showered on us all.  Love, Marylin

THE THINGS WE LOSE

(All photos by Marylin Warner)

Dear Mom,

I remember when you and dad were building the dealership. Money was tight, and sometimes, at the end of a long work day, our family would then deliver a car to the new owners in another town. If the delivery were more than sixty miles away, it would be late at night, so David and I might have been in our pajamas and robes, ready for bed. David would ride with Dad in the car to be delivered, and I would be with you in the car that we all rode in together for the return trip home.  The guys often listened to the radio. You and I often played a story-telling game, where one of us made up several titles, and the other chose one title and made up a little story to go with it.

We also played word games.  My favorite was this: we  decided on a topic, and then we took turns giving examples.  For instance, one topic was “Things that are scary,” and some of our examples were when the lights go out in a storm, when you go into the kitchen at night and a mouse runs in front of you, when you’re playing hide and seek and no one comes after you, etc. I remember that the funny thing about the scary topic was that by the time we were finished, we were making crazy noises and laughing.

You might not remember those rides and our games, Mom, but I do.  If we were playing the word game now, the topic might be “Things we lose.”  Tangible examples could be lose your gloves, sunglasses, keys, homework, etc.  Emotional, intangible examples could be lose your temper or your patience or sense of humor, lose hope or faith or trust or love, or on a more current, personal level…lose your memory.

Here are some quotes on loss that I also think apply to dementia and Alzheimer’s:

“Not all who wander are lost.” ~J.R.R. Tolkien

“Always look at what you have left. Don’t look at what you have lost.” ~Robtert Schuller

“Lost causes are the only ones worth fighting for.”  ~Clarence Darrow

…and by Daniel Boone:  “I have never been lost, but I will admit to being confused for several weeks.”

My favorite, most poignant quote on loss and love (which I’ve used before on the blog) is by G.K. Chesterton: “The way to love anything is to realize that it might be lost.”  Dementia and Alzheimer’s are not the only risks in life; all of us live one day at a time, and as you and Dad used to say, we should be grateful for each day and  live it to the fullest.

You were our example, Mom, and we all love you.   Marylin

__________________

Metal detector quickly found these in children’s park: metal toy truck, coins and bolts, and a shell casing.

Using metal detector to find lost things.