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Harriet: Heaven Shines Brighter
When I hear, “Treasures in Heaven”, I think of the loved ones who have gone there before me. The treasure will be to reunite with them. Last week, the light in Heaven went up a notch or two when Harriet arrived at the gate.
Harriet is one of the many women in my church whom I consider a grandmother. Her light on earth could not be dimmed. She endured the bad and shared the good. As with most of us, her health was not always as good as desired. No matter, she lived her life with grace, dignity, and faith.
When I would ask on Sunday after worship how she was doing, she’d often reply, “I am here today.” She lived in the moment. Each day was a gift and each person in her life was a blessing. I wrote a tale of her on this blog a couple of years ago, and I’ll share it again. It just goes to show that some people have to get REALLY old before they get old at all:
“I was walking out of church with a woman in her 80’s. She was taking notes. I was in my 30’s. I was taking notes.
“She then says to me, “Ever since my stroke, I have to take notes to remember upcoming events and prayer requests.”
“Ummm, I’ve been taking notes to remember such things since I was in my teens!
“Morale of the Story: Some of us have the mental capacity of a stroke victim … without benefit of a medical condition.”
Harriet was a blessing to know, a living inspiration, and I will greatly miss her in the flesh. Yet, I will hold her in my heart always. In spirit, she lives on.
Morale of the Story: Death is not the end, it is another beginning with peace of mind, heart, and body.
Aunt Gladys … and the Gift
I know, the title makes claim that I have had the best aunt ever. Well, it’s true, so accept it and enjoy the rest. I try to be an aunt like her, but I fail miserably. My Aunt Gladys was my aunt, my friend, and my confidant. She was always there … and I have one item from her that will always be with me.
Most of the time, Aunt Gladys and I agreed. However, she was a conservative republican and I am a liberal democrat (if I’m any political party at all). We did not let this get between us. We had so much more in common. A love for animals, jokes about how much love and frustration is combined in church, hope in the Lord, and enjoyment of humorous movies.
There are two things we did not agree on that she would NOT let drop: she wanted me to marry and she believed every woman needed an underwire bra. I am not kidding! Oh, sure, many people of her generation nit and pick on those of us who would rather be happily single than miserably married. Sure, if my prince comes along, I’ll gladly marry. And eventually, she came to understand I was not going to settle on just anyone for a husband, and she nagged me less frequently.
The one thing she never gave up on: The underwire bra. For years I explained they aren’t for me. I had found something that worked without a wire, and I was fine. She agreed that I “looked” fine, but she claimed that I still needed an underwire. Never once have I tried one that did not poke at me in miserable ways. Aunt Gladys wouldn’t buy it. In part because she grew up in an era where wearing uncomfortable clothing was expected to look your very best.
Finally, she gave me one. Used. Ack!!!
Yep, we wore the same size, and she had found this specific one not to bother her in the least, so it was gifted to me. It’s a lovely lavender with lace. Lace on my skin itches worse than poison ivy. Granted, I am thus far not impacted negatively by poison ivy, but still, it itches in a highly unacceptable manner.
So, I have this lavender, lace, underwire bra. I will not wear it. Never have I tried it on.
What do I do with it? Well, she gave it to me not long before she passed away. So, it means a lot to me because she gave it to me out of love. Therefore, I move it to random drawers so I can find it unexpectedly and Laugh Out Loud! I will always have this bra.
Moral of the Story: Some gifts that appear absolutely useless can come in handy to make you smile and remember the joy of a loved one.
Fine Dining
I admit,
I am
particular
about my
meals.
I like them
luke warm,
now,
and
tasty.
But I can
take a
moment,
and pose
for your
photographic
pleasure
while I
wait,
and wait,
and wait
for this
fine
dining
experience.
Morale of the Story: A good meal is well worth the wait.
Humor Happens 