Della Mae French

August 23, 1929 – March 3, 2012

This week I lost my last living grandparent, my dad’s mom, my granny.  

She had been in a nursing home for six years with Alzheimer’s and just couldn’t keep up the fight any longer.  My mom called me on Saturday to tell me she had passed.  She had been at peace most of the day, sleeping, and all her kids were gathered near.  Hospice had given the kids some signs to look for that would tell them when her actual death was approaching and those things had started to happen.  Swollen and splotchy legs, decreased circulation to her extremities, her toes started to turn purple, breathing was slowing, blood pressure lowering, her pulse increasing.   And then, at 6:05 pm, she opened her eyes, looked at her babies; the children she had given birth to, their spouses and some of her grandbabies.  One last look at her legacy, her family that she loved so, so much and then she was finally able rest.

The Alzheimer’s had taken her from us years before, but sometimes on a good day those who visited her would be treated to little glimpses of the woman she used to be.   She would laugh the laugh we all remember…kind of a cackle.   Her eyes would light up when one of her kids or grandkids walked into the room.   Somewhere inside her, I like to believe she KNEW.   How could a mom ever really forget her babies?   What it was like to hold them, their smells and smiles?  No matter how old they become and what illnesses set in,  since becoming a mom myself and knowing what a powerful bond that is, I simply believe that yes, somewhere, deep, deep down…she FELT their presence.   I cannot imagine it any other way.    

Those thoughts give me comfort, but they also make me sad.   I grieve the loss of my granny but I also can’t help but project forward and think about that time when we all will return to our heavenly Father.  What will that be like to not have my parents on this earth with me?  How does my dad feel?  My mom?  My aunts and uncles?  What will it be like to look into the eyes of my grown children and grandchildren and say goodbye and know that I won’t be seeing them for awhile? 

Yes, those thoughts make me sad and if I allowed myself to dwell too much, I fear I would be consumed, but they are also a gift.  A reminder that we are on this earth for such a short while.   That in the blink of an eye our babies are grown.   It reminds me to have patience…to pray more…to think about eternity and to celebrate the miracle of my salvation.   To have more joy in my life…to embrace everyday.  To hug my kids, Jeremy, my parents, my sister and all those that I love as much as I can.

I am the firstborn of the firstborn.   

Although these last 11 years I’ve lived in Missouri and not able to spend as much time with my family, my granny, as I would have liked, of her grandchildren, I was blessed by her the longest.  I had her for 38 years.  My childhood was made happier because of time spent with her and my papaw.   These are the things I will remember…

When I walked into her house, her face lit up.  My grandpa was normally sitting at the kitchen table reading the paper and she would be flitting around in the kitchen.   She’d see me and my sister and her face just lit up.  “Hi Shug…” (short for sugar) and hugs and kisses every time. 

I remember her voice.  

I remember her deep freezer. 

The sound of the squeaky lid opening and closing, the smell of the garage where it was plugged in.  She lovingly kept it full of ice cream, fudgesicles & popsicles.    We spent many summer Sundays at her house celebrating birthdays, Easter, Mother’s Day, Father’s Day.  On those days we would all run around in the front or back yards.  My aunt and uncles would play with us.   Family get together’s were one of the most important things to her.   I remember the feel of the wind in her front yard, the grass and the shade trees overhead.   Her giant hydrangea bush that we would run around and hide behind and in, full of snowball-like flowers.

I remember her sitting at her card table in the back room playing solitaire or working a jigsaw puzzle.  She taught me how to play solitaire.

I remember the inside of her house and the noise and chaos of everyone talking around the dinner table, arguing, laughing and trying to be heard at once.   At 38, I realize how priceless those days are.  The joy of a big family that all lives in the same town to love and support one another and how blessed I was to have that growing up.

I remember her broccoli-cheese-rice casserole.  How good it was even on the Sundays when she forgot to add one or the other ingredients… 

I remember Christmas and how she almost always cried every year after opening her presents.  She felt so blessed by having her kids and grandkids all around.   She always overbought and “underwrapped”.   After all the presents under the tree were opened there were always the gifts she had bought months earlier and stashed away in a closet somewhere and forgotten about…so they didn’t get wrapped. But then afterwards when she surveyed everyone’s opened packages and she didn’t see something she was looking for… she’d go to the bedroom and dig around and out would come some special dolls, or figurines, or jewelry or other collectible items for all the girls…my mom, my aunts and my sister and me. 

I remember her taking my sister and me to the movies.  E.T., The Fox & the Hound Rocky III.  (Yes, Rocky III)…not a typical movie a grandma would take her two elementary aged granddaughters to see, but for some reason she took us.  I’m sure there were others but those are the ones I remember. 

I remember that she never forgot my birthday, or any of her kids and grandkids birthdays.   It’s not the gifts that were given that stick with me…it’s the fact that she never forgot…for as long as she could help it.

I remember that I was loved.  

I remember the days when we all suspected something was “not right”; the forgetfulness increasing, getting lost out in the car while driving, her personality was changing and making her angry & sometimes mean.  This was not her.  

I remember the heartbreak of my dad, his sister and brothers when they took her to the nursing home and she realized her kids were leaving and she had to stay.  

I will never forget the day her kids brought her to my papaw’s funeral.  She had been in the nursing home for awhile and didn’t realize he had been sick and in the hospital.  My aunts and mom got her ready and once she arrived she just didn’t understand why she was there.  Someone would lovingly tell her that papaw had passed but after a few minutes, she would forget again.  Every time she heard the news, it was heartbreaking as she was taken to that place where grief is the most raw and untamed.  Her little face would immediately change and she would sob fresh tears as she heard the news of her husband, of over 55 years, dying for the first time in her mind.  It is that day I remember so vividly, that day of my papaw’s funeral and the pain on her face that make me happy she is with the Lord.  That she is with my papaw, and her sisters and brothers again. 

I remember the day I took Chance and Luci to visit her in the nursing home.  She loved babies and kids.    Even though she couldn’t speak coherently most of the time we were there, she smiled and laughed at my kids.  She held them and babbled to them.  She managed to say how cute they were.  She took Luci’s little shoe and tucked it away inside her shirt…perhaps to keep for a souvenir to remember her by, or maybe she thought it would keep us all around a bit longer…a stall tactic to keep us from leaving. 

Yes, I think she knew deep down that these little people are a part of her.  I wish they could have known her, and she them.  I wish she could see my kids now and kiss their sweet cheeks and call them “Shug” like she did me all those years. 

Chance Michael…the first born, of the first born, of the first born, who shares the name of her son, my daddy.

Luci Bella who has her blue eyes and loves to work puzzles.
Anni Mae who carries part of her name.

Her first Great-Grandchildren.

The next generation of her family, her legacy.

A legacy that will hopefully love the Lord as much as she did and make her proud. 

I miss her.  I’ve missed her for awhile now…but this is a new kind of miss.  The kind of miss when you know you will never see someone’s face again this side of heaven.

I am comforted that there is a God in Heaven and she is there with him waiting for all of us. 

I can just hear her now…”Hi Shug!”

Plug.

Recently I was asked to guest post on my good friend Rachel T's blog, Thriving Home.  http://thrivinghomeblog.com/2012/02/sewing-buttons/

If you haven't checked it out yet, please do.  You'll find all the goodies you need to help your home and family thrive.   Recipes, Crafty ideas, Spritual Nuggets...it's all there.  

Thanks Friend, for inspiring us all to thrive!

Blessed & Complete

Super Bowl Sunday.  Call me crazy but I'm sitting here looking again at all the wonderful Christmas cards and pictures we received from family and friends.  I'm for sure not one for timeliness these days but I wanted to share with everyone that even though I couldn't get our act together this year to send cards, we LOVED getting yours.   We loved seeing all the smiles and well wishes and they meant so much to us.  

In the spirit of the New Year...or Super Bowl...or something...I decided to do a little 2011 recap...in February. 

2011, Anni Mae joined our family.  It's a strange and wonderful thing to say our family is complete.  God provided a new home for the Gilion 5.  Twelve days after we spent our first night on Madison Creek, Anni was born.   We celebrated our first Easter here with her and our parents.  We are so thankful for two sets of grandparents who have been married over 40 years.  Our kids are loved by their Papaw, Gee Gee, Nana & Papa. 

Chance & Luci turned 3.
They are smart, silly & sassy. 

Our cup is full, running over.

In 2011 we were blessed. 

We are complete.

Thank you Lord. 

We await you in 2012.

May you all be blessed in 2012. 
Thank you for sharing in our lives.

Sewing Buttons.

Several months ago, my husband Jeremy pointed out that he had a couple of shirts that needed buttons sewn on. I remember looking at him like, "yeah right, I'll get to that someday." (Did I mention I have three kids, three and under, one of which was born this year, 10 days after we moved into a new house, which we are still in the process of remodeling and I still don’t have completely unpacked…8 months later?)

I didn't think much of his request for me to sew on these buttons and quite frankly remember being slightly offended that he would even ask me with all I had going on. He for sure had many other shirts to wear. He wasn't running around naked and it just wasn't a priority to me in the grand scheme of things I had going on day to day.

A few more times since, he has patiently pointed out that his shirt needed a button sewn on and would I have time to do that for him? Again, I just blew him off as for awhile I had no idea where my needle and thread even were and did not have the motivation to dig around in storage for my sewing things. In the meantime, I've made meals for friends with growing families, served in my ministry group, answered emails and worked on projects for my mothers of multiples club and who knows how many other things outside of my own home, but had still not sewn on his buttons.

Now, it's not like he was asking me to re-invent thread or fashion a needle out of raw steel. It was 2 buttons on 2 shirts. And it's also not like I've done nothing else to care for him and our children in the last 3 months but as of last night I had still NOT sewn these buttons on. The shirts were still hanging in the same spot at the front of his closet where he had left them months before.

I believe it is God’s calling for us to serve Him by serving one another. However, for me it has always also been a blessing. A way to make myself feel good. A way to gain some recognition that maybe I don't always get at home when I serve my husband and kids. So I’m writing from the perspective that it is a privilege to serve others. That being said, I have started to realize that many times I serve others and, indirectly myself, at the expense of my family. And for those of you whom I have served a meal, or helped in anyway...I love doing that, but I think you'll understand where I'm coming from.

This morning, in the midst of reflecting for the New Year, I saw Jeremy’s shirts and it hit me like a ton of bricks. I don't have a right to serve others outside of our home until I first serve my husband and my family. It's not a matter of being selfish or slacking off or being lazy and not serving others. It's a matter of priorities.

Please don’t misunderstand me. I want my kids to learn that life is NOT all about them; that we are called to sacrifice for others. I know there will be times when God truly calls us as a family to sacrifice in order to serve another family or our church. But when, consistently, I'm asking my husband and my kids to sacrifice and my home and family life suffer because I'm just too busy to be the patient mom and wife God calls me to be, that’s a problem. 

Now this button situation is a small thing but there are so many other examples, it's sad to say. I realize how many other times I really do put other's and my own needs, ahead of my family’s. I can try to blame my busy-ness on serving others and being over committed but that really is only half of it for me. Satan uses the ruse that somehow what I’m doing is serving my family. But there are a hundred little distractions of my own making in my own home that pull me from my family. Let’s be honest. Did my husband and kids really benefit from or truly appreciate the six full tubs of Christmas decorations I spent uncountable hours dragging out and around the house? My time would have been better spent snuggling with one or all of my kids, reading the Word and maybe, just maybe, I would have had time to sew on my husband’s buttons.

As a mom of young kids, I’m realizing I need to give myself grace for this season in our lives with young kids. We moms need to not feel guilty about saying NO to service opportunities...we need to help each other to stay focused on God, our husbands, our kids and yes OURSELVES. But I also have to ask more discipline of myself to say NO to some of my selfish desires like excessive fretting and busyness around the house. I confess my house is an idol for me in many ways.

I know there is a certain amount of stress and craziness that comes with this stage of life and having small kids, but I still can't help but think that God does not intend for things to be this way. If I don't have time to sew 2 buttons on my husband’s shirt or have a quiet time with the Lord or take my kids outside to play on a gorgeous day without stressing about the things I should be doing inside, then I am just too busy.

That means this year...

*I will only put out 3 tubs of Christmas decorations instead of 6.

*I've got to be OK that I bought Anni, my 8 month old, store bought baby food here and there (organic, but store bought).

*I need to have fewer clothes in my closet and my kid’s closets to choose from to wear each day. The time I spend trying to decide what to wear and changing clothes is SERIOUSLY absurd! 

*I'm taking boxes of things to goodwill weekly instead of letting them pile up for the sake of having a garage sale where I might make $200 bucks but spend 40+ hours getting ready and a whole weekend for the sale. Why is it that there can be such satisfaction in a garage sale when there really is so little profit or return on time investment? I'll take the tax deduction instead and a completely clutter free garage and storage area; no matter how much I think I can sell something for. Or I'll just put it on Craigslist.

*I'm throwing away the pile of cooking/home decor/home improvement mags and torn out catalog pages that I collect because they have good ideas in them that I want to try around the house because they are only making me feel inadequate, unaccomplished and overwhelmed.

*For the most part, I'm staying off blogs and Pinterest for the same reason. I have enough unfinished things around the house to keep me busy all year. I don't need any new ideas (insert recipes/fashion tips/decor) to make me feel unsatisfied with the way things are in my home.

*I'm saying NO more, or at least not being the one to step up and volunteer for things, no matter how small they seem or how much I think it would be fun, or how well I think I could manage a project etc.

*I'm giving myself and my family the grace to SAY NO to anything NEW...for a whole year.

*I'm staying off FB.

*I want to spend more time with fewer people.

I'm taking baby steps.

So today...I sewed on buttons.