Happy Happy Joy Joy

It's easy to be happy on a day like today. The sun is casting a healthy dose of vitamin D in all directions, and the kids have spotted the first blooms in their bulb garden. Spring's so close I can taste it, and the smug satisfaction of having escaped the worst of old man winter is a rare bonus.

One of the perks of "older and wiser" is that I don't take a day like this for granted. Its sun-soaked splendor is truly a thing of beauty, and every breath of fresh air is charged with the promise of new life.

But even as I share my Julie-Andrews-twirling-on-the-mountaintop sentiments, there are so many struggling in the valley below...Those who wrestle with any number of unspoken hurts that ache just below the surface.

For them--and all of us, at some point--happiness slips behind the clouds, typical of its temporal nature. Joy, on the other hand, is ever-present, eternal--something we can choose to embrace in spite of less-than-sunny circumstances.

This doesn't mean an existence of rose-colored ignorance set to the tune of "Don't Worry, Be Happy." But it's another perk of getting to know the God of the Universe and believing that He's still in control. Easier said than done? Even Pollyanna would be lying if she didn't say, "Yes!" But certainly not impossible...especially on a day like today.

   

Who Ordered the Hulk?

Ever watch "The Incredible Hulk?" Specifically, the shirt-tearing moment when Dr. Bruce Banner's anger transforms him into a green monstrosity? To me, that's the ultimate temper-tantrum analogy. Watching a happy, loving child explode into an inconsolable firestorm of frustration. (Although I've never witnessed any actual shirt-shredding.)

When it does happen, the hairy-eyeballing of parents with "less unruly" children--or people who've never been parents, for that matter--makes me want to Sharpie a scarlet "T" (for tantrum) on my chest and be done with it. 

The self-criticism is even worse. "What am I doing wrong? Am I grooming a career criminal? Does Gymboree offer anger management classes?"

The truth is, every child has pulled an 'Incredible Hulk" at least once...some once a week or day. In most cases, he or she will outgrow it (mercifully). In the meantime, those of us "in the trenches" should be lifting one another up and being easier on ourselves. This is not to say we should hunker down and let little fists fly. But, if we focus less on raising "perfect" children and more on the bigger picture, we'll be less likely to have our own "Hulk" meltdowns.

Here's an article that really puts things in perspective:
http://lysaterkeurst.com/2012/01/i-dont-want-to-raise-a-good-child/

Don't let "little green monster" moments get the best of you; there will be plenty of "banner" days ahead!

..At least that's what I tell myself. :->

We Wish(ed) You a Merry Christmas & A Happy New Year!

Many Happy Returns

My grandfather was an investor.

As far back as I can remember, he studied his Wall Street Journal,
making pages of careful notes in tiny print. I’m sure his transactions
never drastically affected the industrial average, but I don’t
understand enough about what that means to say for sure.

What I do know is that his most valuable investments weren’t in
stocks, but in people.

As news of his declining health began to spread, his five children,
nine grandchildren and even our children, rallied around him and our
grandmother.

He’s touched all of us in different ways, but we can all agree that
faith and family were a common thread.

My earliest memories of PawPaw were going “lots of wheres” on Saturday
mornings. He’d come by just after breakfast and I’d jump in the car,
pigtails swinging. We’d sing “Down By The Station” or “I Eat My Peas
With Honey” at the top of our lungs as we made our stops. Whether it
was the dry cleaners, grocery store or another seemingly mundane
destination, it was always a memorable adventure to me…Not to mention,
a chance to snack on something other than carrot sticks.

Later, he took me to the city on the train for children’s concerts…The
same train that took us to his office at Christmas each year, when
we’d meet him for lunch and catch the light show as the Wannamaker
organ played… If there was ever a reason to skip school and wear
matching dresses, that was it!

Those who knew even a little about PawPaw knew he was quite a musician
himself. Three generations have taken their turn next to him on the
piano or organ bench, studying his fingers, feet and face as he played
song after song and planted music in our hearts. For some of us, the
gift of music goes on, while others of us can thoroughly appreciate
it, but better not quit our day jobs.

PawPaw was also an avid reader. Whether aloud in his best Brer Rabbit
voice, or to himself, as he poured over one of his mysteries. (I
didn’t know who Agatha Christie was, but she sure did keep him
riveted. ) Regardless, his love of reading and learning made me want
to know more too.

PawPaw loved the beach, and is largely responsible for my affinity for
salty air and sandy toes. There was no greater getaway than to his “little slice of paradise” in
Ocean City, New Jersey.

Even after he moved a plane ride away, PawPaw was always present. He
sent long letters and called with questions about my schooling and
“social life,” as he put it. He witnessed my college graduation and
wedding--something he probably thought he’d better see to believe.
And, he held my babies, after faithfully praying for their safe
arrivals.

In good times and bad, PawPaw was there for all of us, anchored by his
steadfast faith. His kind eyes and gentle voice always communicated
that things were going to be OK.

In his immediate absence, things don’t feel OK. But as a personal
investor, PawPaw left a piece of himself with all who knew him. He
helped plant the love of God, family, friends, music, books, learning,
the ocean—even ketchup—in me, which I will pass on to my children and
they will pass onto their children.

My grandfather was an investor in people, with dividends that will
span generations.

And there’s no better return than that.

I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, and I have
remained faithful –2 Timothy 4:7, NLT

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2KEe-dA3a4M

So Long, Summer (Sniff Sniff)

This morning we woke up to a cold drizzle and a mad scramble for pants that fit the fast-growing Jakester--since I hadn't even considered my Fall "changing of the clothes" ritual yet.

But before I send the swimsuits on sabbatical and concede to cooler temps, here are a few of my fav pics (taken by the talented family photographer, Emily Melson) from another memorable Summer. Highlights included: our yearly shore stay with bonus visit from Texas fam, Jake's 3rd birthday celebration at Strasburg Railroad (where else would you take a train-crazed boy?), Gracie's 5th birthday-Tangled-dance-party-celebration and the simple pleasures of every HOT (it was a sizzler!), sunny day.

Since I'm trying to practice the "giving thanks in everything" thing, I've started a running list of things to love about Fall. I was stuck on "cute boots" for awhile, but eventually came up with pumpkin-scented you-name-it, apple crisp, changing leaves, the arrival of a new nephew or niece (my money's on girl, but I lost that bet before) and so forth. I'll check back if I come up with anything especially profound.

Feel free to add your two-cents too (if anyone's still reading.) Or, if you'd rather just contemplate the power of a pair of cute boots, I can't say I'd blame you.

Dear John

I've always had a thing for old men. To clarify...they have to be at least 80, with sweet dispositions. (Curmudgeonly isn't cute.) If I had to put my finger on it, it's the combination of back-to-basics vulnerability, a library of life stories and young eyes peering through a well-worn face that draws me in.

Yes, I'm the girl who likes Lions Club events, Bingo and Lawrence Welk. I love my grandfathers, other people's grandfathers, and anyone who reminds me of a grandfather.

Needless to say, I hit the mother lode when I met John Johnson, the owner of an old-time, main-street grocery store, arguably the hub of our small community. I didn't know John well, but during the hundreds of trips I made to his "Friendly Market" for a loaf of bread, pound of cheese, or something I didn't really need, I always made sure to stop by the cookie aisle. There, 91-one-year-old John sat perched in a chair--reading the paper, discussing the day's events with a friend or napping--always wearing his trademark red vest. When our children entered the picture, they looked for Mr. John to say hello, often getting a pretzel or even a coin in return.

Last week, John passed away. Through several stories written up in the local paper, my affection for this dear man grew even more. He was a true humanitarian, serving the people of our town in his quiet, unassuming way--running tabs for people who'd hit hard times, donating  to civic groups and events, sending gift baskets to people who needed a pick-me-up and so on. He was an unsung hero, who gave freely without expectation.

Several days after John died, we were downtown for a family event--trolley rides, a moonbounce--the works. We were headed to the post office, when John's funeral procession turned the corner. First a car with an open-bed full of flowers, followed by a hearse with John's flag-draped coffin inside, and a seemingly endless string of cars bringing up the rear. The procession crawled up the street, pausing once briefly...in front of John's store (which was directly across from where we happened to be standing.) It was a subtle, stirring moment, just like the man for whom the gesture was made.

John's was a legacy of selflessness. He won't make the history books, but his actions did make a difference. And while he won't be the last little old man to win my admiration and affection, he's one I'll never forget.

http://www.courierpostonline.com/article/20110511/NEWS01/105110345/Haddon-Heights-grocer-dies-91-remembered-an-icon?odyssey=tab%7Ctopnews%7Ctext%7CFRONTPAGE

Happy Days Are Here Again!

Just a little slice of spring (Easter, actually) until I have more time to pull together an actual post. But I think these two speak for themselves. :->