Back in 1989, RT and I celebrated our 20th anniversary, and we decided to celebrate the occasion by spending a week in Hawaii.  Since RT had traveled so much with his job, he had saved enough frequent flier points to completely pay for our round-trip plane fare.  We left the kids with family, and we were on our way to Honolulu. 

I had dreamed of going to Hawaii every since I had read James Michener’s book Hawaii when I was younger.  Seeing the places I had read about was almost magical to me.  There are so many things to do in Honolulu and so many things to see.  The first thing that struck me was the abundance of flowers.  Everything was in bloom and looking beautiful.  Then there were the rainbows.  Rainbows were plentiful – especially in the afternoons after a quick refreshing rain shower.

We hiked up Diamond Head to see the incredible views.  What a wonderful place to be!  We swam in the crystal clear water, snorkeled offshore, shopped at the International Market, visited Pearl Harbor and toured the Arizona Memorial.  We learned about Hawaiian culture by visiting the Polynesian Cultural Center.  RT’s father lived in Hawaii as a child, and we were able to see some of the areas that he had told RT about. 

Someday we intend to go back to Hawaii.  It is an unbelievably beautiful place.  You can call Trusted Tours & Attractions to plan a wide variety of individual, romantic, or family vacation ideas.  They have tours that will take you to the Big Island to explore Volcanoes National Park and the Thurston Lava Tube.    I think I could spend a month or more in Honolulu without seeing all the wonderful sights and attractions.

I wanted to show a progression of our new home. I plan on making a progressive collage to frame to display in our home. This was one of the most fun times of my life – and now that we’ve moved in and are mostly settled, it is even better. So here is my online progressive collage:

I was looking through the photos on my Photobucket album when I came across this photo:

The photo was taken on Saturday morning, November 29, 1986, at RT’s and my home in Tennessee.  It is a photo of my father and mother with five of their granddaughters.  When the photo was taken, we had no idea that in less than a week my father would die suddenly and we would all be gathered again  – this time in Georgia – for his funeral.  This is the last photo we have of my father.  When I see a meaningful photo such as this, I immediately start thinking not only of the events surrounding that photo, but also of all that has happened since the photo was taken.

The oldest granddaughter in the photo is my daughter.  She’s now married and has two little girls of her own.  The youngest granddaughter in the photo – the one my mother is holding (the daughter of my younger non-blogging brother, David) – just got married this past year.   She and her husband live on a farm in Alabama.  The curly-haired blonde immediately in front of my daughter is now a teacher/missionary in Kenya (and yes, with the situation in Kenya, we are all worried about her).  She’s the daughter of my non-blogging sister, Debi.  The one sitting in my father’s lap (The daughter of my sister, Beth) with her hands clasped in front of her face is now living on her own in California.  And the granddaughter standing beside the chair holding her doll is the daughter of my brother Terrell.  She is now living in New York City – working as a nanny and hoping to work in musical theater.

Over twenty-one years have passed.  Four new grandchildren have been born since my father’s death, along with lots of great-grandchildren.  My father had such a robust attitude towards life, and he loved his children and grandchildren.  I would give anything to share with him the joy I feel for my own grandgirls.  No major point here – just the observation that life goes very quickly.   

This week I am writing about seven Christmas traditions that I am thankful for:

(1) Christmas stockings – I love planning and shopping for items to go in everyone’s stockings.  It’s just fun.

(2) Christmas Tree – There’s nothing more beautiful than a pretty Christmas tree.  Everytime I look at our Christmas tree, I like to squint my eyes so that only the lights stand out – and they look softer and beautiful.

(3) Colored lights on the Christmas tree – While all white lights look pretty, there is just nothing more Christmasy than colored lights.

(4)  The star that our daughter (now almost 33 years old) used in a pre-school Christmas play 30 years ago.  Each year it is the star at the top of our Christmas tree.

(5) And next to that star on top of the tree is the angel our son made in school 25 years ago.  So we have a doubly wonderful tree-topper each year.

(6) We have always had the tradition of opening one gift on Christmas Eve.  Everything else has to wait till Christmas Day.  It’s always fun selecting the one gift we want to open early.

(7)  Christmas caroling…There is absolutely no music more beautiful than Christmas music.  “Silent Night”  “It Came Upon A Midnight Clear”  “O Holy Night” ” Hark the Herald Angels Sing”  “Mary Did You Know?”  “Away in a Manger”  – along with the more secular “Christmas in Dixie” “I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas” and “Tender Tennessee Christmas”

I was watching TV and working on a blog post, when my computer beeped to let me know that I had an email.  I clicked over to the email program and found the following  from my wonderful and loving son.  It’s no wonder I adore him:

Hey Moma, 

I was just remembering how you used to play the piano every once in while when I
was younger.  I love the sound of a piano, most of my favorite songs have a
piano in the background.  I remember watching tv and hearing you play, it wasn’t
for a long time or often but it left an impression on me and I love the sound of
a piano because it reminds me of you. 

I love you mom.

Joey 

Yes, it made me cry. He’s a very fine 29-year old young man. I’m so proud of him.

Now for the coincidence.  This past Saturday RT and I were visiting my mother.  My mother had just bought a piano.  She wants to take lessons, and she got a great deal on a used piano.  She’d also just had it tuned.  So as my mother, RT and I sat in her living room chatting, she said I should play the piano for her.  I sat at the piano, opened the Methodist Hymnal and started playing some hymns – not very well, but I muddled my way through about 10 or 12 of my favorite hymns before calling it a day.  I told RT that someday I want a small piano to go in our library at home.  I don’t play well, but I really enjoy occasionally playing the songs I know.  It’s just a relaxing and happy thing to do.  Even when I do it poorly, it puts me in a good mood.  I’m not sure why except that I love the sound of a piano.  I just talked with RT and told him about Joey’s email, and he swore he had not mentioned at all to Joey that I had played the piano at my mother’s just a few days ago.

What are the chances of those two occurences happening so close together?

I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart for Savannah. I remember as a child, riding the train with my Girl Scout troop to visit the home of Juliet Lowe, the founder of Girl Scouting. Then a few years ago, I visited Savannah again with one of my friends. We visited the downtown shops on River Street (LOVED the pecan pralines at River Street Sweets), ate some of the best barbeque in the world and took some long walks along the river.  Then, just a couple weeks ago, RT had to be in Savannah on business.  I wanted SO badly to go with him! Doggone having to work!

If I ever get the chance to visit Savannah again, I’d like to take a tour. I especially think a Civil War Walk would be fascinating.  I would love to see the homes of some of the most famous Civil War generals and to learn more about Savannah’s role in the Civil War.  Besides a Civil War tour, I’d love to take a tour of Savannah’s famous haunted houses.  Cool, huh?

I was checking out Trusted Tours and Attractions and found that by subscribing to their free e-newsletter I would automatically be entered to win 4 free tickets to tours in a city of my choice.  So I’m entering so that the next time I can join RT on one of his business trips, I’ll be able to take advantage of tours in that area.  The e-newsletter offer ends Friday, December 14th, 2007.

Trusted Tours has a long list of cities with available tours, including San Diego and Key West.

This Veterans Day I celebrated by reading my favorite post about World War II.  It’s the story of my parents when they were a young married couple.  My father was in San Diego – waiting to ship out to the south Pacific.  My mother was in Georgia – missing her Marine husband.  So she took the week-long train trip from one side of the country to the other in order to visit him.  Here her story – from her blog, Ruthlace.

A Glimspe of Romance during World War II

During World War II, I made a week long train trip from Georgia to San Diego, California to be with my Marine husband before he was to be shipped out for action in the South Pacific.

Charles told me “girls” were a major topic of conversation among these young marines in the barracks. This close knit unit of men passed around and pinned up pictures of girl friends and wives for the admiration of their brothers.

“The greatest generation” is a label that was later to be conferred on them. At this point they were just “men in the making” and still preparing for overseas duty and combat.

My husband was happy to announce to his buddies that a real Georgia peach was on her way to California. It was a week long train trip with crowds of soldiers and their wives as weary travelers.

Alas, soon after my arrival, I was quarantined at the Naval Hospital with Scarlet Fever. My Marine could only come over to sit on a wall outside the hospital window and look longingly inside and speak through the window.

One afternoon he brought a buddy to see his “pin up girl.” On this afternoon, the “Georgia Peach” was lying on her stomach with her feet toward the window. The only thing my husband’s buddy could think to say was, “She sure has beautiful feet.”

The photo above is of my mother during that time. I definitely come form “good stock,” don’t I?  No wonder my father was so crazy in love with her.

My mother talks about the exuberant patriotism of the times.  There were no pseudo-authorities in the news pontificating against the war.  Rather than highlighting and exaggerating every possible negative happening as the news agencies do today, the news shows were filled with positive news and supportive commentary.  It’s sad to see how the liberals have come to believe they’re “cool” by denouncing their own country – how they bastardize their free speech rights.  The contrast of our country from World War II times and now is disheartening.

My father came home from the war, and he and Mother went on to raise seven children together and to see all seven of their kids grow up, marry and do well on their own – and they welcomed a bunch of grandchildren before my father died in 1986.  God bless all our service folks – both past and present.

I started this post several months ago but never got around to finishing it until now.

Sophisticated Writer had a post entitled A Letter to 1995 Me.  The idea of writing about the wisdom gained from life experience appealed to me.  If I could go back and give my 1995 self some advice, what would it be?  Hindsight is 20/20, and I’ve learned some lessons since 1995.  Here’s what I would tell the 1995 Carol:

Stop obsessing about your weight.  It’s not worth your mental and physical energy.  Accept yourself as you are and set your mind on the important things in life.  Do what you want to.  If you lose weight because you stop obsessing about it, great.  If not, you’re no worse off than before.  And whatever you do, do NOT start taking those stupid diet pills.  They will just mess up your metabolism and wreak havoc on your body.  Sure, you will get a few years of being thinner out of them, but the price will be too much in terms of your long-term health.

Go see a good counselor about the marriage issues.  Now.  Don’t worry about the expense and don’t worry if you have to go by yourself.   It’s not healthy to not talk about things that bother you.  Who knows – maybe if you go to counseling, the marriage might last and you won’t have to go through a divorce.  But even if it doesn’t save the marriage, at least you’ll be saner during the process.

Take dancing lessons.  It’s something you’ve always wanted to do.  So what if you have to go alone.  It’s better to enjoy life by yourself than to have a partner in misery.

Go ahead and finish your dissertation. Now.  Make it a priority rather than spending your energy on something that can’t be fixed right now.  If you put it off too long, it’ll be too late, and all your coursework and qualifying exams will have been for nothing.  You go past the deadline – and the only way to get the doctorate is to start all over again.

Most of all – do NOT marry anyone unless you are in love with him.  He can’t “love you enough for both of you.”  If he drives you nuts before marriage, he will drive you even more nuts afterwards.  (This refers to my very brief second marriage in which I married simply because I knew the guy would always love me and that there wouldn’t be all the drama I experienced in my other two significant relationships – and also because I figured marrying “for love” hadn’t worked out in my first marriage, and the love thing hadn’t worked out with the guy I had dated seriously while I was divorced.  So why not go for someone who would always love me and someone who wouldn’t be a drama-king in the relationship?  I found that a marriage not based on mutual love doesn’t work.)

There really are only a few things I regret in my life – my second marriage,  not finishing my doctorate, and the fact that I still obsess over my weight.  I guess that’s not too bad for 58 years of living.

I think it would be helpful to write to my 2017 self.  What would I want to tell myself in ten years?  That’s an endeavor for another day.

My birthday was last Sunday – August 26th.  I was in a rotten mood on my birthday.  That afternoon I went to my school to do a little work, and I wrote a birthday post from my school computer.  However, since the post reflected my rotten mood, I deleted it.  So now I’m 58 years old.  I remember as a child thinking about the new century and the fact that in the year 2000 I would turn 51 years old.  It was such a distant and unimaginable age, that it seemed too much to even consider.  Then 2000 came, I turned 51, and then 2002, 2003 and so on.  And now I see the age of 60 closing in on me.

Time – and life – passes much too quickly.

For now, though – happy birthday to myself.  May my 59th year of life be a great one!

(P.S. And thanks to everyone who has left me birthday greetings in comments on other posts!)

It has been more than twenty years since my father died.  Sometimes it seems unreal that he isn’t here.  I often look at my two grandgirls and think of how much Daddy would have loved and enjoyed them.  I would love for him to see my own children as adults now – how proud he would have been of them!

Here is a poem I wrote a few years after my father’s death.  I’ve posted it here before, but it is so personally meaningful that I wanted to post it again.  So bear with me.