Tag Archives: Family

Quilting

Since I’ve been taking care of grandma again, I have begun a quilt. My mother suggested it because grandma has an abundance of fabric and it would be nice to make something with her. 

So one day when we were sorting fabrics I said, “Oooo😮, I like this fabric for a little man’s quilt…” and I set it aside. And the morning continued with me stacking different cotton linens together. Grandma was fine with it but concerned with my choices. But I told her not to worry, that I had a plan! 👍

Next day I took them home and began washing them all. She once had cats so I’m am deathly allergic to everything on the 3rd floor. 😵

Then the squares began…it’s a long process and to get grandma into the mix I asked her to iron the fabric. She is able to do it and it takes her a bit of time so it makes my job less stressed.


The squares process took some time! But my crazy patterns look well together… 😎


I still had 5 more fabrics to cut…but my vision would be completed!!

This last Friday we began the pattern process, or as I see it a giant puzzle coloring book! 


I understand you can make 9 square patterns and then stitch them together but instead I wanted to come up with my own pattern. So grandma sat across from me and would stop me if I was putting one in a terrible place. And sometimes I would tell her to chime in with her opinion, because when mother got here I wanted and expected her to do the same! Love you Mother! ❤️

The process should have stopped as grandma went to take a nap and mother left to get some cookies to celebrate her birthday and I was supposed to be making lunch, but instead I tried to finish. 

After lunch I finished laying them out and I love it. Mother helped me move some things around…

Initially I was making it for my future kiddos, hopefully a boy, but actually this quilt would be okay for either a boy or a girl. 

Mom showed me how to organize it and make it simpler for the next process of sewing.


Grandma and I made it all cute for the photo! 😊

And not only am I going to make a quilt, something I have never done, but to bite off more I’m going to quilt it. 

Not in this design but I was practicing…


I want these quilts,  I make to be an heirloom. Something that my future grandkids can get and can continue on. 😊💕

I’ll post more photos when we continue… wish us lots of luck!  😊

“White dress…check, veil…check, flowers…check, food…check,” Emma whispers…

“How’s the list coming, Honey?” Emma’s mother chimes into her dreamland. Have you decided upon everything you want?

“I think so Mother,” as Emma recites it back to her, confident that she is finished.

“You forgot place. You don’t know where you will have it? Has Nathan given you an idea he likes?”

“A place…” Emma ponders… “Nathan wants it to be in a place up in the woods, he went there for his parent’s renewal. It sounds beautiful but I don’t see us being able to afford it.” Why must there be hints of sadness while planning a happy occasion.

“I’m sorry my darling, but it is good to have a budget. Without one you would plunge into your life savings and that money is for the future; you are allowed to be prudent with your earnings,” Emma’s mother says while embracing Emma, “All will work out my baby.”

I was happy with the idea of being married at City Hall then having a grand big reception afterwards. But Nathan had his idea of a ceremony in front of friends and family. I have also always dreamed about having my almost niece be the flower girl, while the youngest nephew is being a batman symbol thrower. Next, my sister in-law walking down, my second eldest sister, then my eldest sister. My mother would be in the audience with my other nephew, because they prefer to be seen but not stared at. Next would come myself and my brothers; they would be giving me away. Hopefully both, but my eldest brother might be sitting with my mom, because he like she are similar. But for sure my younger brother will, he is my best friend. So yes, I have thought about a ceremony, the idea of having my friends and family taking part in our happy occasion warms my soul. But then that is more spending. If the place and seating was taken care of, I would be able to do the rest, within my budget. We just cannot afford it all.

Understand that Emma has told her mother all of this before, so as Emma sits quietly debating these thoughts in her head, Emma’s mother is just holding her and giving a head scratch.

“What if we had it at Grandpa’s and Grandma’s? The space is big enough. It might not give us everything, and we would have enough within our budget for the rest of the occasion.” Emma suggests an idea, nothing is set in stone.

“I am sure they would love to have you there. But you must discuss it with your future husband, these choices should be a team effort. Everything will be perfect because you are marrying someone you love.”

“Thanks mama, I love you.”

“I love you too, my baby girl.”

Prudent

Cheyenne.

Cheyenne has been amazing! I had an abrupt but slow morning; my guy left at 7:03am this morning to go for his ride along. He kissed me good bye and I slept until 8:30am. Understand that Wyoming is 1hr ahead. So to me I woke up at 7:30am…

Anyways I needed coffee 😬 and of course I could just drink the stuff provided in our room but I wanted to experience the small cafe shop. Looking at the weather for the day began at 21° and by the time I was leaving the hotel it was 26°. And it would continue to climb until 2pm.  So I put on 2 layers of pants, a sweater dress, scarf, fingerless gloves, a knitted hat and my inside lining of the snow jacket.

Since my guy is busy, I planned on meandering through town. I got my coffee at the Paramount Cafe. I stopped at a convience store for a book called, ‘Duty and Honor’. And as I wandered down a street, a cop car pulls over and stops next to the sidewalk. I was a bit nervous, wondering what I did wrong. There in the passenger seat sits my love, bright eyed and smiling. I said hi and hello to the fellow officer taking him around. Its nice to see him excited and happy. Please pray for him, his test is Tuesday. God willing he will pass or not pass. But praying always helps.

Some scenery pictures..

This is a house/art studio. The walls and shelves were filled with all types of art!!

This was just a cute home. I love this style of house.


Right outside of the hotel there is an old classic theater. This photo is taken in front of the thrift store( I talk about it later)

As my day continued, I had to wait until 10-11am for the small shops to open. I stopped in a clothing store that looked sweet from the outside, but once inside I discovered this is a new dangerous store. It’s called, ‘Just Dandy”, and everything in there is my style. Thankfully everything is expensive and not in my price range. Except then the lady tells me the clearance section is down stairs. I got a cute, but nice quality shirt for $17. It’s a tank top fringe beaded shirt. 

😳I tried mother…but I did look at prices first before trying on. This store is totally a you store as well…😎 

The lady there told me to check out this other place called, ‘Donna’s Boutique’ its more of a thrift store. It’s really cute and this store is more realistically priced. It reminded me of the old thrift store in Monrovia. Then around the corner was a nit-nack type of store. The lady was really nice and so I bought a coffee mug from her. 

I turned the corner and returned to the hotel. No more exploring for the day. I dropped off my jacket and headed towards the sitting area. I sat and read my book awhile. Then started this post. 

I hope you are enjoying hearing about Cheyenne. If not I’m enjoying writing about it. And this blog is for me and my thoughts!

Again love you mom!! ❤️ I am being good about not buying everything I see 😬

Family.

You are born into one,

You are raised by one.

You grow with one,

And you are loved by one.

-:-

You continue life with that one.

You strive and thrive with that one.

They see you fail and fall.

But they help you crawl and stand tall.

-:-

Now it’s new.

His family has accepted me.

But not only that,

His family, my family, are one.

I am happy with glee!! 💕

Solitude.

The Solitude…

When I hear this word, I first see myself standing on a mountain, being swallowed up by the multi-colored sunset sky, waiting for the darkness to approach me. I have no fear, no pain; I await the dark with open arms. Because I know that when the darkness comes so does the glimmering stars. They awaken the sky; causing the darkness to dance through and behind the stars. It’s strange because this is my first thought but then other images come…

Next, I am sitting in a filled room; all the bodies around me are of people I know. However, they don’t acknowledge me; I am just a form taking up space they wish to fill with someone else. I stay sitting waiting to be noticed. Chaos surrounds me and continues to move without intertwining with me. It’s like there is a force field separating me from them. I am alone in this crowded place, and if someone were to notice me they would see tears spilling down my face. This image has pain and fear; I am in solitude and nothing will change…

Then I see myself here…After a long stressful day, I come home to my loveable but loud family. My nephews are screaming with glee when they see me. My brothers want to discuss their most recent logical problems. My eldest sister is singing and dancing in the kitchen to the new song that dwells in her brain (she will be singing it for a couple more weeks). With all this going on, I wish to just travel through the household and bury myself into my bed.  I feel guilty for wanting to block out my family. Silence seems unattainable. Which in any other situation, I would feel comforted and loved but after that long hard day I want to be in complete solitude….

But no matter how I feel in these moments, I know I am never alone and I won’t ever be alone. Solitude: loneliness, privacy, isolation, seclusion, lonesomeness…are just some synonyms. I might feel loneliness sometimes, but I am never truly alone. Privacy is luxurious but also singular; I might know it but I rarely have it. So when I do attain a small shred of privacy I can cherish it for the small window of time I have. Isolation is to be alone without contact. I have a family which loves me and I get to see them every day; I am blessed because of this. Seclusion is alone and quiet. If I am in dead silence too long, I go stir crazy. Hearing the small giggles and voices steal themselves into my room brings comfort to my soul; I am not alone. Yes, in some instances of my life I feel lonesomeness…but even without my family, friends, colleagues, neighbors, students, etc. God is with me. He is in that sunset sky, His presence is beside my in the crowded room, and His love flows through my heart as I enter the loud loving house. He has me and I have Him. Until the day I die I am blessed.

Solitude…It’s not good or bad, it’s just what you see it as…

Solitude

Oh Bother…

This is just a brief short bit…

My mom talked to me the other day about how some of my habits were self taught or mimicked from siblings or her. But I have just this minute, discovered a trait that I will probably always have…

I managed to spill coffee all over my new clean shirt that I just changed into…and now I ponder if I should go home and change or just wear it…?

But thanks mom, a habit I wanted to break is probably forever mine.

Love you 

A short poem in your honor…
Coffee

Delicious, 

And warm.

Creamy,

But chilled.

Drinking,

And savoring.

Gulping,

And enjoying.

Slurping…

But spilling.

Contemplating,

But sighing.

Living,

Just messy.

Mama…

“Mama look at my creation!” holding it on a tray so it does not break.

A tired but still beautiful woman wanders around the corner and stoops dead in her tracks.  Her eyes trained on me. “What did you do?”

“I made it for you. I couldn’t find correct supplies so I just used anything I could find.” Like the toaster, electric wires from my lamp, my eyes glasses, lots of duct tape and paperclips, a bicycle wheel, and other things.

No words or even a noise comes out of my mom. She just stands there stilled and speechless. Her left hand travels to her mouth to keep whatever she was about to say inside.

“Do you like it mama? I made it especially for you.” I am guessing my smile would say it all, I could feel it spread from one ear to the next.

“……..” something came out of my mother’s covered mouth but I couldn’t quite catch it.

“What, Mama?……”

“GO TO YOUR ROOM!” She screamed at me.

She screamed at me…I ran. I didn’t stop until I reached my room. It was filled with the remainder parts and scrapes. All my failed attempts and miscalculations. There were scorch marks on the carpet where it had exploded when I turned it on.

“I don’t understand Mama.” I whisper to myself, because there was no one left to hear me. “I just wanted to help her remember.” I curl up onto my bed, hiding myself in the corner, squeezing a pillow as if it would explode. I slept with tears pouring from my eyes, and my heart slowly breaking into smaller pieces.

Headache is the first thing I notice. It is burning my brain and squeezing every last drop of energy out of me. “Mama…” is my second thought.

It must be nighttime or early morning, because darkness is waiting outside. I float out of my blankets and sit on the edge of my bed listening to the sounds around me. “Can I go get some water? Or do I stay here?” The kitchen is on the opposite side of the house. I would have to walk past my mama’s room, and our floors reveal everything and everyone. “I’ll take my chances,” standing up tall and determined.

As I open my door it squeaks just a moment. But I know I can open it all the way because I fixed that last year with dish soap. The floor boards outside my room are now covered with a small layer of rocks, which I did because it stops them from squeaking.

As I walk down the hallway I see all the small inventions I have made to make our lives easier. All of the objects are just of old appliances wired together to help my mom with chores. An electric broom and mop, a window washer, a clothes folder, a tiny robot to do the yard work… mental note…” make robot slightly bigger to push lawn mower.”

My mama’s door is next. I was shut, but not slammed. When Mama slams it new cracks show over the doorframe. I recently made the tiny robot paint the door. It is now a beautiful yellow with small flowers covering it. I wanted Mama to feel happy to enter this room.

I put my ear gently to the door to listen for any noise of crying…nothing…she must be sleeping.  I hate hearing my mother cry herself to sleep. That’s why I made what I did. I wanted her to be happy again.

Now just past te living room and onto the kitchen. I round the corner and….

“Mama…” I whisper so softly that she must not have heard me.

There was my beautiful mama. Perched on the couch, hunched over watching something. I wandered around slowly not to disturb her of frighten her…to see what she was seeing…that’s…

“Mama…” I say louder so she can hear me this time.

Her body snaps up, and instantly her hand moves to brush away her tears. “Yes, baby?”

“Why are you crying? Do you hate it?” tears welling up inside me. Trying to break past the barricade in my eyes.

She opens her arms to me, asking me to climb into her embrace.

I do. I fit my body in the space for me. I nuzzled down into her arm and squeeze it ever so slightly to know she is still there.

“No, honey. I love it. I am sorry for yelling at you before. Before today, it just seemed like you were trying to push me to move on and forget. I didn’t really see what you gave me this time. I just saw another invention to help me forget, so I released all my anger and frustration onto you. After you ran I broke down and cried myself into a sadden sleep right there outside on the cobblestone path. I woke to darkness engulfing me and the small device still spinning and singing that happy tune.” She began petting me and humming the tune which I gave her.

“Mama, can I play it again?” sitting up into her lap, staring into her eyes. “Can I watch it with you?”

My beautiful mama stared back into my eyes, “Yes, baby. I want to remember with you.”

For a second I scramble around the room for an extension cord. I pull the thing in and center it onto the small coffee table. I move back to my mama, climb back into her embrace, then I lean back to the table and flip the switch.

I light bulb comes to life. I painted it yellow to make everything shimmer. The toaster pops and the bicycle wheel stands into existence. The music starts to play and the wheel turns moving the pictures around. Just like a Ferris wheel my invention turn exposing our past. The first picture holds our family: Mama, Dad, Sister, Brother…Me. We are all sitting and laughing.  The next, brother’s 18th birthday; following, Mama and Daddy’s wedding; then our water fight… Mama was taking the picture; after that one, I made a collage of our baby photos: Katie, Josiah, and Me; next our first camping trip…

I hung as many photos as I could on that bicycle wheel, but I ran out of duct tape and paperclips. I programmed it so that it would continue to spin until the song ended. The song I chose was mama’s favorite song. It was her wedding song, and in the past, our go to song to serenade her into sweet embarrassment.

I never wanted mama to forget them. I just wanted to be enough for her to keep living. I wanted to fill the gaps of her life that she hadn’t had enough energy for. I wanted to make her life simpler so she would smile again. I wanted her to see me and not look at me like I was the only one to survive the accident. I wanted my mama back…

“Mama, is this okay? Is this invention allowed…” I say into her arm.

“Yes, baby. This invention is the best one ever!” she sighs into my hair and pulls me closer. “Honey, you need to know…” as she pulls me back and stares into my eyes. Her tears are falling and spilling off of her face. “Part if the reason I never appreciated your other inventions was because they reminded me of your father. He would always discuss wacky or ridiculous ideas and always say he would someday create them. When I look at you I see all of them. Your father’s talent. Your sister’s beauty. Your brother’s wit. And your creative imagination. I am proud of you.”

I scramble out of her embrace and dash to my room.

“Honey…?”

I come back holding a tattered notebook. I produce it from my embrace. This is the secret I never wanted to reveal. “This was Daddy’s. I took it when he…when he…I took it…” head lowering, not wanting to see her reaction.

I look up and tears are spilling down her face. But a smile is creeping across it too. Her eyes come alive and her arms embrace the book into a hug. Her beautiful body shakes from the tears, but this time they are happy ones. She looks up at me and…

“Thank you, my baby girl. You have given me the best part of him back. I never knew he was remembering every one of these inventions. Some were jokes, some were love, so were fights, some were arguments, some were special, some were secret…I have all my memories done in this journal, and in this Ferris wheel of memories.

She pulls me again into an embrace. She leaves the journal and wheel on that small coffee table. We cry together and stay there until light comes through. My mama is back. She came back to me.

Twenty years have passed, and I am thirty-two years old today. Our house seems so empty. I am there to pack up anything I want and take it with me to my home. The house seems so bare without her here.

Mama is gone, she is with Daddy and Katie and Josiah. I love this place, but I couldn’t be here without them too. Wandering through the house I see all the inventions I made and how they sparkle even with the layers of dust on them. The rocks outside my room and scattered across the floor. Mama’ door is a darker shade of yellow, but the flowers seem just as bright. The tiny robot is at the kitchen sink; frozen in time, probably because the batteries wore off.

The living room…The couch still sits there. Just a small layer of dust covers it. The coffee table still stands firm. I will take this with me. But what I was searching for was…that…there off in a glass case sits the little Ferris wheel. However, this time there are more pictures. Half of the wheel is the past and the other half is me and Mama. Those eighteen years were the best days of my life with her. Next to that glass case is the journal of my parent’s love. I looks the same as the day I gave it to her. Tattered and worn, but loved. And the title still shows on the leather cover.

When I discovered this journal in my Dad’s workplace after the accident I assumed it was for me. He always discussed leaving a journal for his girl, so that she could create or just remember the memories. Thinking back, I realize it was for her. But the lettering was still clear and crisp on that leather cover, as the day I found it in his desk.  It read, “Ellie” which is me, but also Mama.

World’s Best Widget

Valentine’s Day

This Valentine’s Day I decided to buy all of my siblings and mother flowers. I didn’t just want to get the girls flowers , but also my brothers. They deserve some love too. I actually walked from church all the way to the store to purchase flowers for everyone sneakily.

After about a 30 min walk I reached the store and began to ponder what I wanted to give them.  I knew tulips for my mother. Tulips have a calming humor about them. They seem to be content with themselves and their petals embrace themselves for a warming hug. Which is what you receive always when you hug my mother. She loves tulips! So this year I bought her a potted plant, so that afterwards she could plant them and have them every year after. (However, I will most likely be planting them though. The yard work is now my domain. Mwahahaha!)

Next was my younger brother. He is an orchid type of person. I chose a white and purple striped one. It gives off a hyper active vibe, but also a classic grace. My brother is one who is always moving and never likes to be still to long, but he sometimes will pause and take in the beauty and stillness around him.  I do see him like this orchid, because he appreciates beautiful things.

After younger bro was older bro. It was more difficult to pick out a flower to represent him, because I don’t know what he would like. However, I saw an orchid that was different and one of a kind (to me at least) and I see my brother like that. Proud of who he is and doesn’t really care what others think. He will be what he wants, when he wants to be. So I choose this soft yellow one with splotches of purple within each center. It was beautiful in its own way.

Next was oldest sister. I knew what I wanted to get her, but I had to find it. Finally found it, it was lilies. But these lilies had a pink hue to them. They almost seemed to be smiling back at your own smile. My sister has a pink hue in he cheeks when she smiles while laughing. Pink lilies are beautiful and sweet, and they bring a lighter side to life. Showing beauty in all things, even if they are simple.

Next is other older sister. I also had trouble deciding what flower she was. She loves roses, but also daisies. She loves interesting plants, but then also the traditional ones. She likes a little bit of everything all at once, but in a contained way. So I decided on a bouquet of flowers of different types, but since it is a bouquet it is complete. She is like a motionless chaos. She is the opposite of my younger brother.  She likes to be still, but she can do many things at once. The bouquet had purple daisies, Gerber daisies,  a red rose, a snap dragon, and lilies. A little bit of everything, creating a beautiful arrangement, just like my sister.

I did not purchase myself flowers, because I enjoy giving them. That was part of my present to myself. Seeing their smiles grow on their faces, because I love them unconditionally and wholeheartedly. However, I decided to today that I would continue to work in the yard. So in a way my mother gave me flowers as well. Because when I went to Home Depot to get rocks I got flowers to plant in the side yard I have been working in.  The gift that my mom gave me was exactly what I wanted. A way to bring color and beauty into the place I have been working.

Vday

And in a way these flowers will grow over time and become more and more beautiful. Just like my family. Planting these flowers on Valentine’s Day was a beautiful gift all in itself. Thank you mom for this great gift. When I see these flowers I will think of you and my siblings. And how I am the luckiest girl in the world.

Vday 4

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Why Me?

“Hey Mama!” I yell from my chair knowing that, that was the stupidest thing you can do to a hard working mom.

“What Honey? I am busy at the moment.” An exhausted voice exits the hallway to my left. “If you come to me I can help you.”

“Nevermind!” I yell back, because I can hear the strain in her voice. She must be really busy with her task that I don’t want to burden her any more.

Looking back down at my page of homework I ponder how I am going to complete this assignment. Our teacher wants us to explore our names. She wants us to discover why we are the way we are. But why did it have to be six pages long…that just seems ridiculous. You know how when you stare at a pot waiting for it to boil; I feel like that as I stare at this paper. Maybe magically it will be finished.

“Okay Honey, what’s the problem,” mom sits right down next to me. Her eyes are tired and her body hunches over itself, collapsing but still sitting tall. “You’ve been staring at this paper for 15 minutes with a very ugly face.”

I jokingly glare at her.

“I am sorry, but it is true,” she says with a small smirk across her mouth. “I needed a break from the laundry. Maybe your assignment is more interesting.”

“We have to write about ‘Why we are the way we are’.”

“Hmmm…. well you are tall because of your father. You have brown hair because of me. You have hazel eyes because of your grandfather. You have graceful hands because of your grandmother. And you are loud and annoying because of your siblings. Does this help?” Her smile growing with every statement.

“Mom…” jokingly I throw my pencil at her, but she avoids it and is clashes onto the floor. I am not loud or annoying…not really… “But yes, things like that help. But I think another part is towards my qualities.”

“Hmm…well one is… you are extremely competitive. I believe this is because this family likes to be the best of the best. However, for you I think, you truly believe you must earn everything you want in life. You don’t let people win, because they must want it for themselves. You don’t give up too easily, you try until you can’t physically move. I think you might get this from my side of the family. All of my brothers were extremely competitive and still are to this day.” Her eyes mist as her mind wanders back into her childhood…or somewhere which I was never a part of.

“This is great stuff mom. I do see myself as you describe me, but I always saw my competitive side as a weakness…in a way. People don’t like to lose. They tend to not like getting beat or pushed to their limits.  To me I am too competitive sometimes…” I do feel this way a lot. Sometimes friends leave me because I want to do something to the fullest and they just want to breeze through it.

“It is a strength Honey.  And don’t you ever forget it or change for someone. People who understand you know you have them ahead of yourself. You want them to succeed and accomplish it alone so they can be more confident within themselves.  You do what you do because you care.”

Tears are coming…but I can’t cry now. I kiss her on the cheek and then ask the next question. “A big thing is our names. Some people believe that our history behind our names will give a reason to why we are the way we are. Why did you give me my name?”

“Hmmm…. well Jane was for a past relative. Also I have grown to love the name Jane. It flows off your tongue as people call you. You should add in your paper the meanings of your names. Jane means: God is Gracious. Which is true to me, because I have you. Your last name is, of course your father’s name. It means: Peace Ruler.”

“And my other name?”

“Well Emily means: To strive, to excel, or rival. Which fits you perfectly.” She embraces me into a loving hug.

“Thank you, Mama. But why did you choose Emily?” squeezing her right back.

“Actually…I chose Emily because I liked the name. It has no family ties or relations to our ancestors. I guess God knew that the child inside me was an Emily, and he might have guided me to give you this name. You are forever my darling Emily.”

One last squeeze, and then the words flowed from my mind, to the pen, to the paper. A watched paper will not complete itself. Sometimes words from another can help you succeed, but from the beginning you must want it too.

Say Your Name