Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Thanksgiving is a time....continued

Bubba and "my Jaimie"



Bubba

My brother is eight years younger than me. He was in junior high when I married. As a little boy, he was always into something. We have lots of memories of funny things he did when he was growing up. My mother could begin telling stories about him right now and probably never stop talking for days. He's the only person I know that read the encyclopedia and underlined things just for the fun of learning. When we were growing up, if my father had a business associate visiting from a foreign country over to our house for dinner, my brother was able to entertain all of us with his conversation abilities. He researched the guest's country and new enough interesting facts that there was never a lull in the conversation....he always had plenty of great questions to ask. I remember watching him as an eight year old talk to a perfect stranger about his country's gross national product....about the climate....and the geographic features of his homeland....I'm pretty sure he knows every answer in Trivia Pursuit. If we ever play, he's definitely on my team.



My sister, "My Jaimie"

My sister is eighteen years younger than me. I was a freshman in college when she was born. When she was 18 months old, she was my flower girl in my wedding. When I still lived at home and she was just learning to talk, she called our mother and me "ma-ma". The first six to seven years of her life, we lived in the same town and so I was able to see her often. I sometimes baby sat her for my mom and dad and when I was very lucky, she spent the night with me. I often refer to her as "my Jaimie" because this name was very popular and we know so many "Jaimie's". When she was four years old, I had the great fortune of teaching her to swim. Here's the story....



Many years ago, my husband and I taught swimming lessons during our summer break. We had a nice business partnership.....we had a great plan for how things would work. He was the coach, the person with the swimming credentials and therefore, would be the instructor. My part would be soliciting customers, enrolling students, serving Kool-Aid and cookies to the tired swimmers, and making certificates at the end of the session. Sounds like a great plan, right? Much to my surprise, the night before our very first swimming lessons, my husband, broke his ankle playing softball. You know how you never know what's going to happen to you when you wake up in the morning? Well, little did I know that he would be sitting "beside" the pool, swinging a whistle round-and-round, while sitting in a lounge chair, "telling" me how to teach a kid to swim and I would be the "substitute" teacher, the Kool-aid girl, and the certificate maker! I almost left out the most important part....because I was such a good business partner, I had enrolled about 250 students for us to teach that summer!! Needless to say, by the end of that summer, I was in the best shape of my life!



I started this story to tell you this one......during that summer of swimming lessons....when I had the great pleasure of teaching so many children how to swim, one of those students was my baby sister. It was this summer that I learned how hard it is to teach those that are closest to us. When I wanted the children to experience the feeling of the "buoyancy" of the water, I had no problem gently releasing the other students and letting them bob just a wee bit. But when I had "my Jaimie" in my arms, I did not think I could muster up the courage to let her go. I finally was able to do it, but only after my husband explained to me that she would never learn to swim unless I was able to "let her go". Turns out "letting go" was a great life lesson. I let her go, and she learned to swim. If I say so myself, she's a pretty darn good swimmer, even if she learned from a "substitute" teacher.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Thanksgiving is a time....


Thanksgiving is a time each November brings when we are 'specially thankful for many happy things....our homes.....our friends....our families....our good times through the year.....it is with great thankfulness that I pause to reflect on my many blessings.

I am thankful for my family. I am the first born of three children. My parents are awesome. They provided me with a great home and surrounded me with love. They protected me from harm. My father's favorite response to most things I asked to do was "no" and his favorite phrase was and still is, "be careful". He wouldn't let me go to the skating rink because he was concerned about the type of people that might be hanging out there. I was engaged before I ever wore a pair of roller skates. He taught me about work ethic and the importance of working hard. He bought a paint kit for me and we sat side by side, as he taught me how to paint with oils. He helped me write speeches for pep rallies (when I was captain of the cheerleaders). He practiced with me and taught me how to enuciate words and speak from the heart. He taught me the importance of being truly interested in other people's lives. When he traveled, he often came home bearing gifts. He bought me my first car. He helped us buy our first house. He continues to give me things. I love my dad.

My mother curled my hair, painted my nails, and made most of my dresses. I loved for her to make my clothes because I enjoyed wearing something that no one else would have. When I was in elementary school, I remember my teachers asking me to come up to their desks so they could look at the dresses my mother made. She made costumes for the dance company. She made my formals for proms. She even made my wedding dress. She taught me how to cook and gave me a "love of home" by teaching me about working in the yard--planting flowers, trimming shrubbery, and cutting grass. During the summers we had a tag team. Sometimes she would cut the grass and I would cook our lunch. Sometimes I would cut the grass and she would cook our lunch. When I got married, my father-in-law gave me a compliment I have always treasured. He dropped by our house to visit one day, as he entered our house, he gave me a big hug and said, "I can tell you truly have a love of home. Everyone doesn't have a love of home and I'm so glad that you do."

My mother made sure that I was well-rounded. She took me to dancing, piano lessons, guitar lessons, and organ lessons until I was old enough to drive. She also taught me how to sew. One time, I thought I knew more than her about sewing. To prove to me just how smart I really was, she carried the sewing machine to my bedroom. She told me, "If you think you are so smart young lady, then you can try to make this dress by yourself!" She closed my door and left me alone. Within just a few seconds, the needle went straight through my finger. It didn't take me long to realize she was much smarter than I thought! My mother taught me about work ethic and hard work too. When I was business editor of our school yearbook, I wasn't old enough to drive. Selling ads was important to the success of our yearbook. Everyday during the summer she took me to business after business. When we first started, she showed me what to do. We went inside together, I watched as she explained what we were doing, and inquired about who we should talk to. After a while, I began doing it by myself. She waited in the car while I asked people to advertise in our yearbook. We went to every business on every street, day after day. I sold more ads than anyone had ever sold on the yearbook staff, but I never would have sold any without her. When my dad helped me write speeches, she was always sitting right beside me. Listening and adding her thoughts too. She helped me understand the importance of speaking slowly and clearly, especially in front of an audience.

I grew up going to church almost every Sunday and Wednesday. When my parents were young, they worked with the young people. My mom sang in the choir, my dad was a deacon, and I was a GA. My mother taught me the importance of prioritization. In order to advance in the "steps" of a GA, scripture had to be memorized. On most summer days, my mother watched Days of Our Lives and I sat on a quilt on the floor reading and studying. We couldn't go swimming until after I had studied. One fond memory is eating frozen Zero candy bars and french fries while we sat by the pool, soaking up the sun. My mother plays the piano. My parents loved having friends over, playing cards, and singing around the piano. My mom and I sang duets together. I sang soprano and she sang alto. Now that I'm older, I love to sing alto too. When I go home for Thanksgiving, I'll sit at her piano, play some of our favorite songs, and we'll sing together. I'm so thankful for my parents and my many childhood memories.