Celebrating Jenny Bryant

The births of my three children are among the sweetest memories of my life. I became a Mom when my first child was born on March 15, 1982. Jennifer Marie was a precious sight to behold!

Jenny was just 3 months old when we drove to Kansas, where my parents live. She did not like riding in the car seat before the trip so it was a long drive with numerous meltdowns. Jenny was my parents' fourth grandchild. Most of my siblings lived near my parents and attended Jenny's Baptism. My oldest sister, older brother, his wife and daughter weren't able to join us that day and my Dad took the pictures.

Like many new moms, I mothered through trial and error. I read parenting books and asked a lot of questions, but in the end, I often just went with my instincts. With Jenny, every first was a brand new experience for me. When Jenny was born, babies were supposed to sleep on their stomachs. Jenny hated sleeping on her stomach so it was wonderful when she learned to roll over.

The first time she slept through the night, I jumped out of bed and hurried into her room to check on her. Jenny didn't like the playpen, but she loved the walker. Putting the Christmas tree into the playpen kept the tree out of the reach of little hands.

Jenny loved her family. We lived next door to my in-laws and Jenny's Aunt Mary, who worked near our house, sometimes stayed with them. Jenny really loved Aunt Mary and always laughed when she visited. Each of Jenny's aunts on her Dad's side had one child. Grandma and PaPa Bottoms enjoyed having a new grandchild around.

Before Jenny could crawl, she would roll around to try to get where she wanted to go. From rolling, she went to crawling in reverse and then to crawling forward. Once Jenny learned to crawl, she was into everything all the time - or so I thought.

By Jenny's first birthday, she could stand up for a few minutes and walk a little while holding onto a table. Wow, 1 year old! How the first year flew by. Jenny loved her chocolate birthday cake!

Jenny eased into walking, taking a few steps before dropping to crawl. After Jenny learned to walk, she ran all the time and seemed very excited to finally be able to really get into everything.

Jenny loved to play with her friends Marie and Renea. She also loved stuffed animals, especially Care Bears. I made these two for her and she took them everywhere. Jenny spent a lot of time outside playing too.

The summer after Jenny turned 2 years old, we drove to Kansas again. Jenny was much happier this time than on her first trip. Jenny was delighted to discover that Grandpa Atkins liked playing Little People as much as she did. There were lots of toys at my parents' house since my nieces lived in the same town.

We always stayed at my sister Debbie's house when we visited Kansas. By 1984, Debbie and Jim were the parents of three daughter: Angie, Diane and Missy. Jenny always had a lot of fun playing with her cousins.

My older sister Kathy tells all of her nieces and nephews that she's the favorite aunt - and it's true! Kathy professed her first vows as a Sister of Charity in 1974 and her final vows in 1979. Although she teaches at high school and middle school level, Kathy loves being with the little ones in our family.

Good-byes are always hard when we visit Kansas. My Mom poses with her four youngest children and Jenny in this picture taken just before we left for the long drive home.

Jenny became a big sister six days after she turned 3 years old. Lauren was born March 21, 1985 and Jenny loved having a little sister. She was a great helper too!

Even though Jenny shared a room with Lauren, she could usually sleep through the night, even if Lauren didn't. Parents don't get much sleep when there's a newborn baby in the house though! I started a new job when Lauren was 2 months old.

This is one of my favorite pictures of Jenny and Lauren. I worked midnight shift and Jenny would climb into Lauren's crib with her in the mornings to play with her before I got home from work. When I got home, Jenny would proudly tell me that she'd given Lauren a bottle of water and toys to keep her happy.

Jenny loved beautiful, frilly dresses and so did her Grandma Bottoms. Papa and Grandma Bottoms posed with Jenny at her fourth birthday party.

We bought our first house when Jenny was 4 and Lauren was 1. When Lauren started crawling, she would head to Jenny's bedroom so she could get into Jenny's toys. Jenny didn't like that very much! As the girls got older, they enjoyed playing together most of the time.

Jenny was so excited to start kindergarten! She could already read when she started school. After her teacher figured out that she could read big kid books, she would send her daughters' Baby Sitter Club books home with Jenny.

Just after Jenny started kindergarten, baby Jack was born on October 15, 1987. Jenny was a great helper with Jack and he loved his big sisters.

This is my favorite picture of Jenny with her baby brother. She's talking to him and he's talking back to her. Jenny was such a big sister that it's no surprise she grew up to be a wonderful mom.

Our family was complete. Here we are at cousin Barrett's graduation from Lynchburg College. The three kids were, and still are, my pride and joy.

Violin and gymnastics, ballet and t-ball all kept Jenny busy. She also loved playing with her friends and often had friends over after school.

Jenny's love of reading began when she was a baby. We read her favorite books over and over every day. When Jenny was in elementary school, she always had a book in her hand. One of her favorite reading spots was in this tree in our yard.

The excitement of many Christmas mornings lives forever in my memory. This is my favorite photo of the three kids on Christmas, coming up the hall to see what Santa brought them.

John and I divorced in 1991. As a single mom, I spent a lot of time doing things with the kids. Hiking was one of my favorites, but they didn't like it as much as I did.

Jenny's middle school and high school years flew by quickly. Some of the firsts I enjoyed during these years included being a band parent and teaching a child to drive.

There was no prouder parent than me on the day Jenny graduated from high school. She looked beautiful as she received her diploma and walked off the stage toward her future.

Kenny and I got married a few months after Jenny graduated. Jenny gained two stepbrothers when her dad remarried when she was younger. Our marriage added another stepbrother and a stepsister to the family.

Jenny made a beautiful bride when she and Ken (BJ) Bryant married the same year. BJ's brother Rob was his best man and Lauren was Jenny's maid of honor.

Jenny and BJ's son, Kyle Jordan Bryant, was our first grandchild. BJ's mom, me and Jenny's stepmom, Vicki, were all blessed to be in the delivery room to watch Kyle's birth.

Kyle's first year went by in the blink of an eye. Jenny and BJ were wonderful parents and Kyle thrived. Kyle took his first steps at his birthday party, shortly after this picture was taken.

Jenny and BJ's work schedules overlapped so Kyle came to our house some afternoons when Jenny went to work. We loved the days Kyle came to call "Grandma House days."

Jenny was the first of her cousins on my side of the family to become a parent. This photo of my parents' grandchildren and great-grandchild was taken in 2004 at a celebration for my parents' birthdays. With nearly 20 years between my parents' oldest to youngest child, several of my parents' grandchildren were younger than Kyle. My parents now have seven great-grandchildren.

One of the blessings of having Jenny, BJ and Kyle live nearby is being able to enjoy time together around the holidays. Jenny, Lauren and Kyle are dying Easter eggs in this 2005 photo.

As adults, Jenny, Lauren and Jack enjoy a close relationship and enjoy spending time together. Jenny and Kyle posed with Lauren and Jack for this 2006 photo taken before Jack left for college.

Jenny and BJ are very supportive of Kyle's activities and encourage him to work hard in school. This photo was taken after Kyle's school program in 2007.

Jenny and BJ have hosted Mother's Day lunches at their house for several years. It's great to get together with the rest of the extended family. This photo was taken on Mother's Day in 2008.

Jenny became an aunt in June 2008 when Lauren's son Andrew was born. Andrew loves going to Jenny, BJ and Kyle's house to play. This photo was taken Christmas 2008 with all of our kids and grandkids.

Jenny and BJ enjoy making Halloween fun for Kyle. This photo was taken before Trick-or-Treating with Lauren, Stephen and Andrew in 2009.

Jenny's a great daughter and also a great daughter-in-law. This photo of Janine, Jenny and me was taken at Kyle's birthday party in February 2010.

Our family grew again in April 2010 when Lauren and Steven's daughter Alexis was born. This photo was taken in August 2010. I made the dress Alexis is wearing in the photo for Jenny when she was a baby.

Jenny is a great mom and her love for Kyle shows through in all that she does. This 2010 photo is a favorite of mine and shows the close relationship between Jenny and Kyle.

Jenny and BJ look so happy in this photo taken after his brother Rob's wedding in 2011. They have learned the secret of living a well-balanced life together.

Even though Jenny works full-time, she's always ready to help a hand when any of us need anything. She's a wonderful wife, daughter, sister and mom.

Kyle's 11th birthday in February 2012 was a good reason to celebrate. Kyle's cousins, aunts and uncles, grandparents and Granny Great Bottoms joined Kyle, Jenny and BJ at the family birthday party.

Sisters aren't always friends, but Jenny and Lauren are great friends. As their Mom, I feel so blessed that my daughters grew up to be loving women who are also friends.

Kyle is getting taller and taller as he nears his 13th birthday on Christmas Day 2013. I'm grateful for so many great Christmas memories. 

The gift of motherhood is one of life's most wonderful treasures. Thanks to my firstborn for making me a Mom! I have so many precious memories from back in the day and look forward to making new memories. 

Celebrating with the family for Kyle's 13th birthday. Jenny and BJ look like they are up for the fun and challenges of parenting a teenager!

Happy Birthday to my dear daughter, Jenny Bryant and thanks for the memories! 

My Other Mother: A Tribute to Mel Rye

When I received the phone call from my Mom about Mel Rye's death, I was totally shocked. I visited Mel with my younger sister, Nancy, on my last trip home in December 2013. Nancy had texted Mel's phone number and address earlier in the afternoon of the day I learned about Mel's death. I was planning to visit Mel while in town for the week, but it wasn't meant to be.

Mel was my 'other mother' - not through marriage or blood, but through love. During the 1970s, I was a rink rat, a kid who grew up on wheels at Satellite Skate Center, our local roller skating rink. Mel and Cliff, her husband, owned the skating rink.

Along with several of my siblings, I worked for Cliff and Mel at the rink. But their relationship to me was so much more than employer-employee. Cliff and Mel watched over the generation of kids who hung out at their skating rink like loving parents.

Some of the rink rats, including me and several of my siblings, had an extra-special relationship with Cliff and Mel. When we were at the rink, Cliff and Mel were our parents. My brother Bob was the oldest in our family to work at the rink. I followed in his footsteps and so did our younger brothers, Mike and Pat. Nancy, the baby of our family, spent her childhood and youth at the rink.

When I got married in 1975, I asked Cliff and Mel to pose with me, my husband and my parents for family photos. My parents are standing beside me and Cliff and Mel are standing beside my husband in this photo.

I spent all day working and skating at the rink on Saturdays, starting with beginner lessons I helped teach and continuing through afternoon and evening skating sessions I often worked. At lunchtime, we went next door to Cliff and Mel's house.

After lunch on Saturday, Cliff always took a nap on the couch. When it was time to go back to the rink, Mel would try to wake Cliff. His response was always the same, "Five more minutes." Mel always gave Cliff the few more minutes he requested.

Cliff and Mel were the parents of one daughter, Linda. My sister Nancy, who was only 3 years old when our family started skating at Satellite, grew up with Linda and Ralph's sons, Jon and Chris. For Nancy, Linda was like a second mother and Mel played the role of grandmother in Nancy's life.

This photo of Nancy with her children, Nathan and Jordan, our parents and Mel Rye was taken at a family Christmas celebration after my Mom's health had begun to decline. Although Nancy lives out of state, she always tries to visit with Mel when she's in town.

This photo of Mom and Mel was taken at Satellite Skate Center in 1994, when we were in Leavenworth for a family reunion for Dad's 70th birthday. Our family went out to the rink and Mel met us there. Mom and Mel chatted happily about the past together as they watched some of the Atkins kids and our children skating.

This photo of Mom and Mel was taken in 2007. Mel's mind was still sharp at this time, but dementia was creeping up on both of my moms life a thief in the night.

Mel was like family to all of us. Although our three oldest siblings didn't work at the skating rink and spent very little time there, they also embraced Cliff and Mel. This is a family portrait of the seven youngest Atkins kids with Mom, Dad and Mel taken in December 2007.

Cliff and Mel retired from the rink in 1978 and moved to Osage Beach. Although we exchanged cards at Christmas, I didn't see Mel for several years. After Cliff's death, Mel moved back to Leavenworth. Mel lived with Linda for a period of time after Ralph died.

Mel was so delighted when Nancy and I came to visit her while we were both home for Christmas in December 2013. Nancy had tried to call Mel, but got no answer so we just drove over there.

Mel welcomed us both with open arms and we laughed and cried together about the past. Although I know I disappointed Cliff and Mel at times in the past, their love for me never diminished.

Mel told us how much she still missed Cliff. The love they shared was the special kind of love that comes once in a lifetime, if you're lucky. I know that Mel is now dancing with delight to finally be with the love of her life again.

As Mel talked about her health and memory problems, Nancy and I could tell that Mel's decline was less severe than our Mom's, but that the dementia was stealing away Mel's future. Despite the dementia, the love was shining bright in Mel's eyes as she looked at Nancy.

Mel's obituary from the Leavenworth Times is included below, but it's missing just a couple of things. In addition to Linda, Chris, Jon and Susan and her grandchildren, Mel is survived by a generation of Leavenworth's rink rats who loved and respected her.

You'll live eternally in my heart, Mel, and in the hearts of my siblings. We love you forever and will miss you always. But somehow the pain is lessened knowing that you and Cliff are finally together forever.

Thanks for the lessons you taught me: patience, kindness, humility, the value of hard work and the optimism of looking at life as a nearly-full glass through rose-colored glasses. Rest in peace, my beloved other mother.

Melvina G. Rye, 87, of Leavenworth, passed away Friday, March 7, 2014. She was born October 29, 1926 in Minnesota. She was preceded in death by her husband, Clifford Rye.

She was owner and operator of the Satellite Skate Center from 1970 to 1978.

Melvina is survived by daughter, Linda Agesen and two grandsons, Jon (Susan) Agesen, Chris Agesen, three grandchildren, Brittany, Aaron, and Morgan Agesen.

In lieu of flowers, memorial contributions may be made to the American Cancer Society or Meals on Wheels of Leavenworth.

Private services will be held. Condolences may be made at www.davisfuneralchapelinc.com

Happy Birthday to Favorite Aunt Kathy

Today is a special day in our family, my sister Kathy's birthday. In our family, she's known as Favorite Aunt Kathy.


What makes someone a great aunt? The same characteristics that makes a great parent makes a great aunt.


Love and kindness. Making time to spend together. Being there to celebrate the good times. Joy and sharing. Remembering special days. Helping during the hard times.

In large families, there's often one sibling who serves as a surrogate mom to the younger kids in the family.

That's the role my sister Kathy has always held in our family. Kathy was often found with at least one sibling in her lap or on her hip when she was younger.

Kathy was born the second child in a family which eventually grew to include eight children.

She would have made a great mom, but Kathy was called to serve God through her vocation as a Sister of Charity: serving the poor, teaching children and devoting her life to God.

Despite serving far from home at times over the years, Kathy always found time to keep in touch with the rest of the family.

As nieces and nephews were born into the family, Kathy always took time to welcome them to the world.


The nieces and nephews who lived nearby all met Favorite Aunt Kathy while still in the hospital.


As she held them for the first time, she introduced herself, "I am your Favorite Aunt Kathy."


Her words came to life through her actions. Each niece and nephew knew that they held a special place in Favorite Aunt Kathy's heart.

You can always find Favorite Aunt Kathy at birthday parties and baseball games, dance recitals and concerts, school programs and church celebrations.


Nieces and nephews who lived far away knew Favorite Aunt Kathy would send cards for every celebration and keep to up with their activities and lives from a distance.


Family vacations were the times my kids spent the most time with Favorite Aunt Kathy. Sometimes she visited us and sometimes we visited her.


The best family vacation ever was spent driving across the country with Favorite Aunt Kathy.


We stopped to see the sights along the way, visiting several of our siblings in various places.


From Kansas to California and back again, Favorite Aunt Kathy shared funny travel stories from our childhood, helped with whatever needed to be done and woke the kids with, "Rise and Shine" each morning.

Everywhere we have been with Favorite Aunt Kathy, there are special memories.


As the next generation of babies arrived in our family, Favorite Great-Aunt Kathy took her rightful place in their lives.


Favorite Aunt Kathy loves kids, especially the kids in her family.

Whether they are toddlers or teens, all of  the kids have a good time when they're with Favorite Aunt Kathy.


She's there to help with homework, offer a shoulder to cry on, cheer you up when you're down and celebrate with you when life's going well.


Kathy's also the person who has taken on the role of helping our parents as they age.


Taking our parents to doctor's appointments and helping them with tasks at home are among the ways Kathy helps.

So here's to Favorite Aunt Kathy, who helps us all in our everyday lives.


In big ways and small, through acts of kindness and love, Kathy is always there for all of her family.


In the same way, Kathy's always there to help the children she teaches.

From your siblings, parents and especially nieces and nephews, Happy Birthday, Favorite Aunt Kathy!









Thanks for being a great sister and role model for all of us. Thanks for looking out for our parents as they looked out for all of us.



May your birthday be filled with joy and blessings! And may God shower you with love as you have loved all of us.

In Good Times and Bad, God Gives Us All We Need

If you don't believe in God, your first impulse may to be skip this blog.

We don't all share the same beliefs and nobody can make you believe in God.

As with all things in life, there's a second choice. Maybe you can read the words, take away what applies and leave the rest.

I was born in 1957 into a large Catholic family and raised as a child of faith. To say that my upbringing influenced who I am today is an gross understatement.

In the late '60s, our parish priest was a 'fire and brimstone' preacher. The God he preached about was a demanding God, a non-forgiving God, a God who watched your every move waiting for 'gotcha' moments.

It's a wonder any Catholic kids of my era made it through that type of teaching still clinging to their faith. Like many teens, I went through a period of pulling away from the faith in which I was raised.

As a young married adult, church was unimportant to me and God was a fleeting thought in my mind to whom I offered prayers of request in times of need and occasional thanks during good times.

The arrival of my first child changed that completely for me.

I turned back to God with all of my heart and soul and committed to raising my child in the faith in which I was raised.

In the Catholic Church, babies are generally baptized as infants, with their parents promising to raise them in the faith.

In doing so, parents also commit to living their own faith as an example to their child. If life was that easy, this story would end here. But it's not.

Faith is a strange and mysterious virtue. According to the old Baltimore Catechism, faith is defined as “[T]he virtue by which we firmly believe all the truths God has revealed, on the word of God revealing them, who can neither deceive nor be deceived.”

The new Catechism of the Catholic Church defines faith in the glossary by saying it is “[B]oth a gift of God and a human act by which the believer gives personal adherence to God who invites his response, and freely assents to the whole truth that God has revealed. It is this revelation of God which the Church proposes for our belief, and which we profess in the Creed, celebrate in the sacraments, live by right conduct that fulfills the twofold commandment of charity (as specified in the ten commandments), and respond to in our prayers of faith. Faith is both a theological virtue given by God as grace, and an obligation which flows from the first Commandment of God.”

I wish I could say that I remember all of these words as taught to me or knew all of this by heart, but that wouldn't be true. I found this information through a document found in a Google search of "What is Faith Baltimore Catechism?"

God gives us a set of standards by which to live our lives.

This yard sign version of the Ten Commandments is very popular in some places.

Like nearly every person I've met, I am a sinner who has fallen short of the glory of God.

I have broken nearly every one of God's rules for life; however, He loves me and continues to shower me with His perfect and everlasting love.

Like many sinners, I try every day to rededicate myself to living by God's laws and walking the path God has chosen for me.

Until I get angry or frustrated, am tired or in pain, face challenges and doubts, deal with injustice and spite or have just had enough for one day.

Life is filled with challenges. Some are physical, some are mental, some are emotional, some are spiritual and some encompass all of these.

Today, I took a walk with God, but that wasn't really my intention.

I woke up to the beauty of the morning sky you see above. I also woke up in a lot of physical pain, the result of recent injuries.

I knew it was going to rain and wanted to get in a walk before the rain came. It would have been easiest to walk indoors at the mall, but I love the beauty of nature.

With camera around my neck, I began my short walk through the neighborhood. God showed me His majesty as soon as I walked out the door. He can paint the morning sky like a brightly-colored ball of fire, then turn the sky cloudy and gray.

All around me, the birds were singing to announce a new day.

We are each given the gift of a new day as we awaken. But it's a 'use it or lose it' gift that we often let slip through our hands.

Today, I was determined not to let my physical pain define me.

My new mantra, "Every day, in every way, I get a little bit better" ran through my head as I walked up the street and around the corner to the sidewalk on the next block.

The great American dream was spread out in front of me.

Rows of post-World War II houses like this can be seen in many neighborhoods in the United States.

When the war ended, families rebuilt their lives, building neighborhoods such as mine.

The houses were built close together, the yards were free of fences, there were front porches for sitting, yards for playing and sidewalks for walking.

Children are still a big part of the great American dream.

Those of us with grown children see the fleeting moments of our childrens' youth when we see an empty swing.

As a young parent, swings like this one meant endless hours spent pushing my child higher and higher while wishing that my child would hurry up and learn to swing without help.

Children grow up and move out to live their own lives. If you're lucky, they don't move too far away, keep in touch and eventually enrich your life with the wonderful gift of grandchildren to push in the swing.

All lives should be filled with joy and laughter. It's what God wants for us and He provides people and events in our lives to bring us joy.

From a cute turtle on a bicycle windmill to a grandchild running to you with open arms, it's easy to give thanks for the daily blessings in our lives.

If you could bottle up the joy of grandchildren to open during tough times, life would be much easier.

Sometimes you have to dig deep to find the small moments of joy that are often surrounded by sorrow, sadness, pain and tears.

Like a grumpy cat on a porch, there are people in each of our lives we wish we didn't have to deal with.

Their sole purpose in life seems to be to bring us down and discourage us.

I don't think God places these people in our lives, but He offers us new eyes with which to look at them.

For we are all God's children. The good and the bad, the kind and the spiteful were all created by the same God.

Like new buds in spring, maybe we are placed in the lives of the grumpy cat people of the world.

Maybe our place is to serve as an inspiration in their lives, to offer them encouragement and God's love.

It's just a thought, but maybe it's also a true fact.

Maybe the grumpy cats are there to force us outside of our comfort zone, to make us look beyond the familiar loving faces of family and friends, to challenge us to rise above pettiness and strife.

Each spring, the world is born anew. Grass and trees turn green. Flowers bud and bloom.

Baby birds are hatched in their nests by loving parents who protect them, then teach them what they need to know so they can fly away to create their own new lives.

As I turned at the end of the block, the rain began to fall. Slowly at first, but quickly becoming a spring-like shower.

It wasn't easy to tuck my camera inside my sweatshirt one-handed, but I managed to do it. I stood under a bare tree for a few minutes, then decided a little rain never hurt anyone.

I was pretty wet by the time I got home and was glad for the gift of a warm shower and dry clothes.

Not everyone has access to those two simple gifts we often take for granted.

As I came inside, a book caught my eye. "My Daily Journey with God" was a gift from a coworker several years ago.

The book stays on my kitchen counter along with an assortment of other items.

As I opened the book, somehow it opened to a chapter titled, "Difficult Times". I'd like to share part of this two-page devotion with you. Maybe it will make a difference in your life today.

"From time to time, all of us face difficulties, discouragement, or disappointment. When we do, God stands ready to protect us. Psalm 147 promises, "He heals the brokenhearted, and troubled, and binds their wounds." (v. 3 NASB) When we are troubled, we must call upon God, and then, in His own time and according to His own plan, He will heal us."

"Dear Heavenly Father, when I am troubled, You heal me. When I am afraid, You protect me. When I face difficulties in my life, You lift me up. You are my unending source of strength, Lord; let me turn to You when I am weak. In times of adversity, let me trust Your plan and Your will for my life. And whatever my circumstances, Lord, let me always give the thanks and the glory to You. Amen"

As I said at the end of my last blog, there are no mistakes in life. I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be right now, even though I may not understand the reasons why.

God makes all things new. Like these spring bulbs pushing up through the old leaves of autumn, God is pushing us to reach for His light as we grow in His love.

I took a walk with God today. It wasn't a long walk and, like many walks we take with God, it wasn't planned.

Take a spontaneous walk with God today. Look around you for the good. You may have to look hard to find it, but it's there.

Until the next time, I'll take what I can get when I can get it and do the best I can to face each day with a smile on my face, a prayer on my lips and a song in my heart.

Blogging Grandma Sandy, signing off for now.

A Time to Heal

I'm often guilty of thinking I'm in charge of my own life. Many others think the same thing from time to time.

It's funny how God sometimes has a way of showing me that I'm not really in charge.

Since I hurt my back last summer, I've struggled with being unable to do all of the things I want to do.

I've not faced many physical limitations during my life. So to go from being able to do pretty much anything I wanted to being unable to even lift a gallon of milk has been challenging.

No twisting, bending, stooping, lifting, pushing, pulling, climbing. That's a lot of nos.

Just when it seemed that I was moving along pretty well on the path to healing, I slipped on black ice in the parking lot at work this week and chipped my right elbow bone.

So, it's back to square one in the healing process. A lot of things are more difficult to do when the use of your dominant arm is very limited.

From typing and lifting to cooking and bathing, many things in life are easier with the use of two hands. I expect to face new challenges as I grow and heal during this time of physical challenges. Today, this verse speaks to me.

From Ecclesiastes 3: 1-8 KJV

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.

This is my season of healing and building up, of growth and challenge, of casting away fears and embracing hope, of asking for help and accepting limitations.

As in every season of my life, this is also a season of knowing that God is with me always and that God is always good.

As I face new challenges, I will lean on God for strength, courage, patience and perseverance. I know He will answer in His time and in His way. And that's enough.

There are no mistakes in life. I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be right now, even though I may not understand the reasons why.

Until the next time, I'll take what I can get when I can get it and do the best I can to face each day with a smile on my face, a prayer on my lips and a song in my heart.

Blogging Grandma Sandy, signing off for now.

Motherhood: The Look of Love

In every mom's collection of memories, there's at least one mental image like this.

A moment when you look down at your child and the love you feel is totally overwhelming.

Motherhood is an endless series of moments in time: wiping noses and bottoms, cleaning hands and bedrooms, tying shoe laces and hair bows, making lunches and laughter, fixing broken toys and mending broken hearts.

Somewhere along the journey of motherhood, you become a different person. You become a person who's less focused on yourself and more focused on your child's happiness.

The sense of wonder and joy your child feels about life is contagious.

You see life through your child's eyes as a series of miracles and rainbows.

That doesn't mean that you don't see the chores and problems, the trials and tears.

You just look beyond the minutiae of life and see what really matters.

Maybe the look of love is passed down from mother to child or maybe it's planted deep in your soul when your child is born.

Sometimes a mom can see that look of love given from her daughter to a sibling, a fleeting glimpse into the mother her daughter will someday become.

It's hard to put into words the dreams and fears that live in a mother's heart.

It's impossible to put into words the pride and joy you feel as your child takes her first steps, accepts her diploma or walks down the aisle into marriage.

Here's a wonderful tribute to motherhood that I read several years ago that brings new tears to my eyes each time I read it.


Motherhood - It Will Change Your Life

We are sitting at lunch when she casually mentions that she and her husband are thinking of "starting a family". "We're taking a survey", she says, half joking. "Do you think I should have a baby?"

"It will change your life", I say carefully, keeping my tone neutral. "I know", she says, "no more sleeping in on the weekend, no more spontaneous vacations..."

But that is not what I meant at all. I look at my friend, trying to decide what to tell her. I want her to know what she will never learn in childbirth classes. I want to tell her that the physical wounds of child bearing heal, but that becoming a mother will leave her with an emotional wound so raw that she will be forever vulnerable.

I consider warning her that she will never read a newspaper again without asking, "What if that had been MY child?" That every plane crash, every fire, will haunt her. That when she sees pictures of starving children, she will wonder if anything could be worse than watching your child die.

I look at her carefully manicured nails and stylish suit, and think that no matter how sophisticated she is, becoming a mother will reduce her to the primitive level of a bear protecting her cub. That an urgent call of, "Mom!", will cause her to drop a souffle or her best crystal without a moment's hesitation.

I feel I should warn her that no matter how many years she has invested in her career, she will be professionally derailed by motherhood. She might arrange for child care, but one day she will be going into an important business meeting thinking uncontrollably about her baby's sweet smell. She will have to use every ounce of her discipline to keep from running home, just to make sure her baby is all right.

I want my friend to know that everyday decisions will no longer be routine. That a five year old boy's desire to go to the men's room rather than the women's at McDonalds will become a major dilemma. That right there, in the midst of clattering trays and screaming children, issues of independence and gender identity will be weighed against the prospect that a child molester may be lurking in that restroom. However decisive she may be at the office, she will second-guess herself constantly as a mother.

Looking at my friend, I want to assure her that eventually she will shed the pounds of pregnancy, but she will never feel the same about herself. That her life, now so important, will be of less value to her once she has a child. That she would give it up in a moment to save her offspring, but will also begin to hope for more years - not to accomplish her own dreams, but to watch her children accomplish theirs.

I want her to know that a cesarean scar or shiny stretch marks will become badges of honor. My friend's relationship with her husband will change, but not in the ways she thinks. I wish she could understand how much more you can love a man who is always careful to powder the baby or never hesitates to play with his child. I think she should know that she will fall in love with him again for reasons she would now find very unromantic.

I wish my friend could sense the bond she'll feel with women throughout history who have tried desperately to stop war and prejudice and drunk driving. I hope she will understand why I can think rationally about most issues, but become temporarily insane when I discuss the threat of nuclear war to my children's future.

I want to describe to my friend the exhilaration of seeing your child learn to ride a bike. I want to capture for her the belly laugh of a baby who is touching the soft fur of a dog or cat for the first time. I want her to taste the joy, that is so real, it actually hurts.

My friend's quizzical look makes me realize that tears have formed in my eyes. "You'll never regret it", I say finally. Then I reach across the table, squeeze my friend's hand, and offer a silent prayer for her, and for me, and for all of the mere mortal women who stumble their way into this most wonderful of callings.

The blessed gift of being a Mother.

 - Attributed to Dale Hanson Bourke, Chicken Soup for the Woman's Soul

Mothers and daughters may laugh together one moment and rage against one another the next moment.

A mother sees the best of herself in her daughter and fears that the worst of herself will also appear.

A daughter looks at her mother and sees the woman she will become - even as she tries to be her own person.

Mothers try to teach their daughters to be strong women, to speak up for themselves, to stand up tall, to behave modestly and to look to the future with confidence.

Daughters try to take shortcuts, to fit in with the crowd, to do what they want, and to avoid being smothered by maternal emotions they don't understand.

When daughters become mothers, they come to more fully understand their own mothers. As they parent their children, daughters come to appreciate the gift of their own mothers.

Daughters reach out to their mothers to understand their own daughters, to know the right words to say, to avoid fighting battles with no winners.

As the years go by, the tables are turned. Mothers age as daughters watch, helpless to stop the hands of time.

Time marches on and daughters become mothers to their own mothers. Through trial and error, a daughter tries to strike a balance between being a friend and a daughter to her mother.

The look of love between mother and daughter remains unwavering, a constant reminder of who the daughter was and who she is becoming.

Motherhood is a rich tradition, a wonderful gift shared by women around the world. Some are really good, some are very bad, but most are somewhere in between. Women becoming everything their mothers wanted them to be.

I'm so thankful for the gift of motherhood and the example of maternal love my mother provided. From mother to daughter, the gift is passed on and a new generation is born.

My story ends here for now. Until the next time, I'll take what I can get when I can get it and do the best I can to face each day with a smile on my face, a prayer on my lips and a song in my heart.

Blogging Grandma Sandy, signing off for now.

Little Love Notes in the News

As a casual writer, my attention is always drawn to stories about writing in the news.

Although writing isn't my career, I've been writing for most of my life.

My love of words began as a child. I committed some of my favorite books to memory before I could actually read, thanks to my loving parents and siblings reading them repeatedly to me.

I jumped fully into recreational writing in high school in a creative writing class lovingly taught by Myrtle Thompson, known to her students as "Pic".

It might seem strange to think of a high school teacher as loving, but that described Pic to a T. Her love for words was only matched by her love and affection for her students.

I moved out of state right after high school, but my parents and some of my siblings still live in the area. Thanks to my younger brother, Pat, I know that Pic left this world on November 8, 1991, a victim of cancer.

Pic was my Mom's age, born October 7, 1925. I was in her class in the mid-'70s and she also taught my younger brothers in the late '70s and early '80s.

AP Photo, Courtesy of Janna Holm

If Pic were still alive, I know she would have jumped right into the challenge faced by the family of Dorothy Holm, who lost the ability to speak due to a brain tumor.

Holm wrote a cryptic message on index cards as her life came to an end. In all, there were 20 cards like the one in this photo, covered with seemingly nonsensical letters.

Fast forward to 2014. Janna Holm was only 11 years old when her grandmother died in 1996, according to an AP article featured on ABC News.

Over the years, Janna and her family tried unsuccessfully to find the message Dorothy left as her final legacy. When her dad recently found one of the cards, Janna turned the mystery over to the word lovers at MetaFilter.com.

Although the entire text hasn't been unscrambled, it seems that part of Dorothy's message to her family was The Our Father, with each letter standing for a word of the prayer.

Part of the rest appears to be requests to God for strength and comfort for the beloved family Dorothy was leaving behind and a message of love and thanksgiving to God for hearing and answering her prayers. I'll be following this story on MetaFilter as wordsmiths more talented than me continue working on the pieces of the puzzle.

ABC News Photo, Courtesy Samantha Manville

Facebook exploded with comments after this love letter was featured recently.

Samantha Manville, a Washington mom, wrote this letter to 8-year-old Alexia and 10-year-old Liam, her children.

Samantha and her husband had a late Friday night and were still awake at 2 a.m. on Saturday when they left this note on their bedroom door, telling their children they would be sleeping in until 10 a.m.

The love letter was specific with instructions about what the children could and could not do while their parents caught up on their sleep, according to the story featured on ABC this week.

Yes, you may eat cereal for breakfast and watch TV. No, you may not leave the house or have friends over. The love letter ended with, "We love you."

The mommy wars filled Facebook as many parents of younger children were concerned about the safety of Alexia and Liam while parents of teens and young adults gave the Manvilles a virtual high five and wondered why they never thought about doing this.

I don't know about other parents, but love letters to my kids is nothing new. When each of my children was born, I wrote a love letter and followed up with subsequent love notes telling of their accomplishments at various ages.

I remember writing little love notes to pack in my kids' lunch boxes when they were in elementary school. Another love letter was added when each entered middle school and high school and I still write love notes in their birthday cards and sign with Xs and Os.

Love notes are a wonderful way to communicate with kids. It's often easier to communicate with teens through written words they can read over and over again, even if they would toss aside the same words coming out of a parents' mouth.

My collection of love letters to my children is tucked away safely in a file cabinet, although I made copies for each of them of their baby love letters a few years ago, tucked into memory books filled with photographs and memories.

Love letters are nothing new, but sadly they seem to have fallen by the wayside in favor of text messages and Facebook messages. There's nothing quite like a love letter. Why don't you give it a try and add love letters to your family traditions.

Until the next time, I'll take what I can get when I can get it and do the best I can to face each day with a smile on my face, a prayer on my lips and a song in my heart.

Blogging Grandma Sandy, signing off for now.