the lesson of the shawl

When my mother recently died, my sisters and I had to sort through her things. It wasn't a conscious "ok now it's time to go through Mom's stuff" sort of a decision. There wasn't much to go through.

Years ago mother decided the best way to make it easy on us when the time came was to get rid of as much stuff as she could. She was moving into my sister Vicky's house and was downsizing anyway, so we had a big cleaning out for her, and divided up what meant to us then, sorting and passing stuff to our kids. Mom was happy it was taken care of.

That meant that when she died, all she had left was what was in the room she occupied at Vicky's. So there was no huge task of sorting things out. That had been done and dusted a few years before.

What the task of going through mom's things became for us was a trip down memory lane. Especially her jewelry. Mom didn't have expensive jewelry. She had never believed in spending a lot of money on it. So what she had was a collection of good and not so good costume jewelry. Some of it was so tarnished we couldn't tell what it was. But as we sorted through it, we talked about where the pieces came from, who had given it to her, and what she wore it for, if we could remember.

We laid things out on her single bed, walked away when it became an emotional overload, and then one by one over the week and a half I was there, I noticed we would drift quietly into the room, touch her things, and sort through our own memories. That was how I discovered the shawl.

It was under some things mom had crocheted, and as soon as I saw it I recognized it. It was made by my grandmother many years ago for my mom. Grandma had a special tool called a daisy maker, and she had made the daisies then crocheted them together.

I pulled the shawl from the drawer slowly and wrapped it around my shoulders.  As I looked at myself in the mirror on mom's dresser, it seemed almost as though I was looking at mom. I closed my eyes and could almost feel her presence there with me, and I felt a calmness wrap itself around me like the shawl had.

The truth of life is that no matter what you do or say there is never enough time.  Letting go of the anxiety and fear of my own mortality was the lesson I learned that day.

I miss you Mary, more than I ever thought I would.

...life... ~cat
i am @jonesbabie on twitter

Writing prompt for Friday Reflections:
Tell us about something you have in your home that has been handed down to you. Describe it, take a photo, and tell us the history and meaning of this item.

sisters don't suck

I haven't been much in a writing mood lately.  I started a new medication to prevent a recurrence of the breast cancer they just scooped out of Goliath.  My hands hurt like a toothache that won't go away, I have hot flashes that make me glisten with sweat like a greased pig, along with white-eyed insomnia, and a total lack of energy that makes every step an effort. I feel almost guilty that I am bitching about this at all, and I should sound grateful that the cancer was caught so early that I have a marvelously high chance of beating it. And I am grateful, make no mistake.  Every minute that I am miserable I am grateful for my luck. Grateful for the machine that found the lump long before it could be felt by hand.  Grateful for the surgeon who cut it out. Grateful for the radiation oncologist who will soon be barbecuing my boob to kill any cancerous cells lingering around. Grateful for the oncologist who prescribed this pill that has caused side effects that have placed me in temporary (hopefully) hell.  

And today I am grateful for my sisters.  They are so much a part of who I am that sometimes I feel we breathe for each other. They are the best part of my life, during the worst part of my life. They taught me about trust, laughter, anger, happiness, and what being a sister is all about. They also taught me that love is unconditional. I've learned acceptance, and how to listen to their counsel. Growing up, I was the one they looked to for advice, being the eldest sister.  Those tables have been reversed in the past several months as I struggled to deal with this cancer. They are MY rock now, the ones who make me laugh when my mood is dark, the ones who I know are always thinking about me.  They are still part of me, have always been part of me, and will be until the day I die.

vix and dooj

So today, in response to the Friday Reflections prompt "Tell us about your brother or sister", I share my love of the two remarkable women in my life that I am privileged to call sisters.  This is for you, Vicky and Debbie.

I love you.  Thank you for being my sisters, and for being who you are.

(More about Dooj and Vix here and here.)

...life is good. ~cat
i am @jonesbabie on twitter

talk the walk

My sisters were walking up a flight of stone steps recently, oblivious to me watching them as they walked upward, heads together, chattering away. It was a gorgeous sunny day in California,and we had stopped at a winery. I watched them talking, noticing how the sunlight danced around them, creating a halo of light around their heads. It was a special moment for me, and I snapped them as they continued to ascend the stairway.

Today is day 28 of NaBloPoMo, and the prompt was ACTION. Although it can be portrayed many ways, I chose to use this photo of my sisters and include a haiku. The action may be more subtle, but the light, the contrast, and their movement is action in any sense of the word. How do you portray action in your photos? 

I used three apps to edit this photo. Snapseed (my #1 app), VSCO cam, and Color Cap for the text. Three more days to go in this month's challenge to blog daily. It's been uphill at times, but sometimes it helps to have a goal and routine to help deal with the unknown factors in life that pop up.

...life is full of action... ~cath
i am @jonesbabie on twitter

the sugar in my lemonade

I was going to write something pithy and wise today, the day before Mother's Day, about something that would be so important it would change your life forever.

Forget that. I do good to put two sentences together. So I decided to respond to the +FridayReflections prompt of who has impacted my life for the better. I could say something about my mum, because it is almost Mother's Day here in the USA. She and I haven't always seen eye to eye, but she did contribute one important thing to me. She gave me a backbone of steel, and the belief that I could do anything I wanted to do. 

But the people I want to talk about today are two of the most important people in my life. Throughout my whole life, they were there for me. During hard times, lonely times, times when I didn't have an answer, there they were. They didn't always have the answer either, just as I often didn't have it for them. But they loved me unconditionally, and without judgment. Even when we disagreed, it was always with the understanding that it was ok to disagree, and that it would not affect our trust or feelings for each other. I think of them every day, and especially today. 

They are my sisters, Vicky and Debbie. The sugar in my lemonade.

Vicky, Debbie, and Cathy

day2

We have another side too. A raucous, wicked side that lets us make fun of each other, laugh at each other, and gives me a feeling of zest and joy that last for days. Yesterday we were texting each other, asking Vix if mum's gifts we sent had gotten there. I just KNEW I was gonna have the most unique gift. I had thought this through, plotted, and planned it so that I would be mum's favorite daughter by Mother's Day. I sent flowers:

day 1

Vix Gave mother flowers:

We were both texting back and forth, pretty proud that we had made mum happy.  Then Dooj's GIFT arrived and Vix sent me a picture:

that is a balloon on top and chocolates too

Our text chat then proceeded along these lines:

Vix: the #$&%@ has outdone us Cath. LMAO.

Me: how dare she do that! I think that $(#*#@$ balloon is a $%*#&@$ bit over the top. 

Dooj: LMAO

Vix: is that the one you wanted Dooj, or is this arrangement too small?

Dooj: lolololol

Me: you sure you didn't tell them that was for a funeral Dooj? It's big enough to cover a casket.

Dooj: lololololol...I did tell them no lilies but I'm not going to tell Mother that.

Vix: Momma is getting a kick out of these comments. She did say it was big enough for a funeral. I told her if she kicked the bucket before Sunday (Mother's Day) we would use it.

Me: lololol.

Me:(to Vix) I hope Dooj's flowers die first....

Vix: lolololol....

I have a secret weapon though...today mum got these:

Score one for the big sis...

NaBloPoMo photo prompt day 9 is: Light

...be positive...the best is yet to come... ~cath
find me @jonesbabie on Twitter

day 4: my energy

A recent photo of my sisters having a chat. The connection and love between them is evident in their hands. 

where is your nose and lip?

my missing nose and lip

I love photography and technology.  They are my addiction.  Put that together with my iPhone and the myriad apps out there, and you have a recipe for disaster.  Or a family joke.  For me, today, it's the latter.

My sister Vicky loves to tease me about my photo edits.  Especially when I take a selfie and tweak it.  It's all in good fun, and we always have a laugh about it.  One thing my sisters and I can do is take a poke in fun.

Today I am poking her.  Her latest comment about this photo I posted to Facebook was: "where's your nose and upper lip?"

 Obviously it's in edit limbo.  But I got to tweaking some of her Facebook photos and decided to return the favor and put hers in the same place mine went. :)

 So, here's to you my favorite middle sister.  Your beauty shines through it all, because it radiates from your heart.

where's your nose and lip?

vix and dooj

...nothing compares to sisters. ~cath
find me @jonesbabie on Twitter

concoction

Last night I cooked supper for Steve.  I had been trying a recipe I didn't have time for during the holidays, so I decided since I had dessert, I would really shock the s**t out of him and cook a main course.  I am a simple person when it comes to cooking.  I believe in using the fewest pots possible to make a meal.  I measure my success in cooking in the amount of dishes I DON'T dirty...weird I know but since I have never had a dishwasher, there is a method to my madness.

I looked in the fridge and saw some leftover cheese dip I had made.  Aha! I thought to myself, I'll make a concoction and save pots and be thrifty at the same time (i.e., using leftovers and not throwing them away), in effect killing two birds with one stone.

con·coc·tion

kənˈkäkSHən/

noun

1. 1.

   a mixture of various ingredients or elements.

   "a concoction of gables, shingles, stained glass, and towers inspired by English medieval houses"

   synonyms:

   mixture, brew, preparation, potion "a concoction containing gin and vodka" blend, mixture, mix, combination, hybrid "a strange concoction of folk pop and Gregorian chant"

So I took the cheese dip out (it had ground beef in it, always a starting point for any concoction), boiled some noodles (it was either noodles or spaghetti pasta, and I felt egg noodles would be more aesthetically pleasing).  Then I tossed them all together in the same pot I had boiled the noodles in (after draining off the noodle water of course).  Voila, dinner and dessert and I didn't even break a sweat.

As I made the concoction, I thought about how the word came into being in our family.  It is a word my sisters will understand the moment they see this post.  What does this word mean to me?

It is how I learned to cook.  When I was about 13 or 14, my mother was on a journey of self discovery.  She was a good cook, but never wanted anyone helping her in the kitchen, and so I knew nothing about cooking.  Somehow, when mom and dad divorced and mother went to work, I chose the task of cooking for my sisters and I.  Don't ask me why, because it was long before I knew about Julia Child.  In fact, I didn't even know how to boil water.  That was the first thing I learned to do, and it was about that time I started drinking tea.  I had tried coffee with milk and sugar but mom had told me that if I was going to drink coffee, I had to drink it black.  So that stopped my coffee drinking cold, and I fell in love with tea.  Milk and sugar of course, which for some reason didn't offend mom's sensibilities.  It's a habit I still have.  

After I learned to boil water, I began to think of ways to cook something we could actually eat.  I decided to started with ground beef.  That was almost always the base for my concoctions.  After that I tossed in whatever we had in the pantry.  But the magic began the first time I spotted the spice rack and decided to "spice" it up.  I knew spaghetti had spices, and so did a lot of other recipes.  I wasn't working with a recipe, so I decided to just let my imagination guide me.

My sisters will say straight up that my imagination caused epic failures much of the time. There were times what I cooked was delicious, or at least palatable.  Then there were the times the girls thought I was trying to poison them. 

I can hear them laughing as they read this.  What started out as an experiment in learning for me, brought us all closer.  Along the way, we learned to rely on ourselves, and that we could do anything we set our minds to.  An attitude that persists to this day in all three of us.

What a memory.  What marvelous times we had, and we didn't even realize it at the time.

See you soon Vix and Dooj...and I'll make you a concoction while I am there.  I've improved just a bit over the years. xo  

...life is so very good. ~cath 
find me @jonesbabie on Twitter

my best friends forever

All our lives, but especially since adulthood and separation from each other, my sisters and I have been connected by an invisible thread.  I can be thinking about one or both of them, and I'll get a call.  The same is true of me calling them.  It can't be explained and I am not trying to.  It just exists.

Dooj mentioned something on Facebook the other day about needing to stay offline because of something the doctor had advised.  I saw it and left a humorous but sarcastic comment on her Facebook, then started worrying and decided to leave a message on her cell.  Immediately after I did that I called the middle sister, Vix, to see what she knew.  She usually knows everything that is going on.  Sure enough, she did.  But the first words out of her mouth were:

"I've been thinking a lot about you the past few days.  I knew you'd call."

Bingo.  The connection.  There it was again.  We talked about Dooj, she reassured me it was probably nothing to worry about, and we chatted on for a while, catching up on our daily lives.

Eventually Dooj called back, and reassured me as well.  It seems we share a similar medical condition right now, caused by the type of work we do (a lot of computer work).  We compared treatments, discussed it, and before we ended the conversation, she mentioned that she was sending me a little something, as well as sending a little something to Vix, and my daughters.  I really didn't think anymore about it until yesterday.

Steve and I heard people talking in our front yard after dark.  This is alarming, because we know our neighbors and live on a dead end road.  When we checked, it turned out to be the FedEx person, who had trouble finding our house (NOT the first time that has happened).  She gave Steve the box and he handed it to me.  "It's for you" he said.  I couldn't figure out why I would be getting a large box since I wasn't expecting anything (my memory of the conversation with Dooj having failed at that point).  Then I opened the box:

As I unwrapped and opened the things inside, I was overwhelmed.  Then I read the note Dooj had put inside:

She knew (both sisters did) that I'd been going through a tough time, one of the hardest of my life.  It's affected my mind, and my body, and made getting through many days a challenge.  I haven't elaborated to my sisters, but they knew.  Because we know each other.  They sensed my needs without a word from me.  How do I know this?  Because the very same day I got the box, this arrived in the mail from Vix:

The card was the hug I needed.  I felt last night that I had been hugged by both my sisters.  They knew.

They DO know.  I don't know what I would do without them.  They are my best friends, my rocks.  The only way I can express how I feel is with the words from a favorite poem of mine, by e. e. cummings:

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in

my heart)i am never without it(anywhere

i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done

by only me is your doing,my darling)

                                                      i fear

no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want

no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)

and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

                                                   -e. e. cummings

Thank you sissies.  I love you Debra Kay and Vicky Lynne.  Always and forever.

...life is good. ~cath
find me @jonesbabie on Twitter

girls' moment

 {this moment} - A weekly ritual.  A photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week.  A moment in time I want to capture, to savor and remember.

“This Moment” is a ritual I found on Pamanner's Blog, via Life inspired by the Wee Man adopted from SouleMama.  Check out their blogs, and if you are moved too, please leave a link to your Moment in the comment box below.

life is good...
~cath
Twitter @jonesbabie

love, folded in the sheets {haiku}

our hands together

work shared, 
           whispered hopes, 
laughter

folded...in the sheets








As I folded sheets the other day, my mind wandered back to my childhood.  My sister and I would fold sheets together to keep them from dragging on the floor, standing face to face, chest to chest, arms outstretched, snapping the sheets with a sharp pop to smooth them as we folded them.  I closed my eyes briefly and could see her beautiful golden brown eyes on the other side of the sheet, smiling at me as we shared a laugh along with our task.

How I longed to go back for just an instant.  To share a laugh, a whispered joke, a secret between us.  Or just a look.  That secret look sisters share.  The look that lets you know your sister understands you.  Accepts you.  Loves you.  The look that says everything.

Love, folded in the sheets.


life is good.
~cath xo
Twitter @jonesbabie

brothers and sisters

Maddie, Mandy, Ian and Duncan

We spent the day a couple weekends ago at my daughter's.  Just a day around the pool.  One of those days in your life where you slow down a little bit and just enjoy the moments you have together as a family.  The moments pass quickly though, and soon everyone is scattering in all directions like a dandelion blown apart by a puff of wind.

But oh! those glorious moments together.  Those are the bits and pieces of life that sustain you, that give sweetness to your old age as you remember the days.  Even now, I think of times spent with my mom's family, and my dad's, and it brings a smile to my face and warmth to my heart.  Such sweet memories.

As I watched the kids playing together, I was thinking of similar times with my cousins as a child.  Oh, the fun we had.  Life was simple, and I had no worries or cares.  I just enjoyed the moment.  I lived in the moment, never thinking about time past, or what would come tomorrow.  Never realizing how fast those moments were speeding by, until they were over.

The twins were overjoyed to see their older brother and sister that day.  Maddie spent over an hour, maybe two, sitting on the back of the couch looking out the window, waiting for her older brother Ian to arrive.  Ian had been gone (he's Air Force now, stationed overseas) and Maddie hadn't seen him for 2 years.  She had trouble sleeping the night before, and it wasn't because of the long nap she had.  It was because she was so excited that Ian was coming.  Do you remember being that excited as a child?  So overwhelmed you couldn't sleep?  I do, and watching Maddie, I understood every emotion she was having.

It made me think about the unique relationship we have with our siblings.  And how blessed I am to have two sisters of my own.

As I photographed the kids together, I realized that even though my daughter and her ex-husband are no longer married, they have 4 kids that love each other, and that will never change.  Four kids who have a stretch of years between them, but are close to each other in a way only brothers and sisters can be.  And I am thankful for that.

~cath xo
Twitter @jonesbabie

sisters

three glasses, three sisters

If you aren't blessed to have at least one sister in your life, you don't know what you are missing.  I have two, so it is double the fun.

I can't remember not having Vicky there.  We were born fourteen months apart.  So I can't remember a time in my life that Vix wasn't there.  I remember Dooj's arrival on the scene though, because I was 5 years old when she was born.  She was like having a live babydoll, and was a perfect lookalike for the Gerber baby.  We had a lot of fun with her when she was a baby.  She was the perfect baby. 

The sisters and I have been close our whole lives.  Nothing keeps us apart, and our strength is each other.  We have been through the normal gamut of life experiences, but what makes us strong is that we rely on each other.  There have been untold times in our lives when we called each other because of some stressful thing we were dealing with, or not dealing with well.  I can remember calling Vix one time years ago and telling her I just wanted to hear the voice of someone who loved me because  I was having a terrible day and didn't think I would make it through.  One of those days you remember because it was so nasty and stressful it was almost like you were living someone else's life.



vix and dooj walk and talk

And Vicky said something.  I don't remember what now.  The words weren't important.  What I remember is the soothing calmness I felt after I talked to her.  I was less stressed, strengthened, and better able to deal with what was going on.  That is what we do for each other.  When one is in need, the others step up to the plate and share strength.  We give support and remind each other that we are not alone.  We are SISTERS.

Many times my sisters or I have called each other.  And many times I have received those calls shortly after I was thinking about them.  We have called for advice, to gripe, to gossip, to tell each other how much we loved and missed each other.  Computers and social programs have enabled us to keep closer contact with each other, as have cell phones which make phone calling so affordable we can do it as often as we want or need to.



flying high

it begins with a flash



When our dad died ten years ago, one of the biggest wake up calls for the three of us was that time is fleeting and  you can't get back what is past.  It is gone forever.  It was a big regret of Dad's that he didn't spend more time with us, but one he couldn't undo.  But we decided after Dad's death that no matter what came up in our lives, we would find time for each other every year, and more often if possible.  We have taken several road trips together, and the time spent alone as sisters has just deepened the love I have for them, and I am sure they would respond with the same answer.  It is our time to reconnect and relive old memories while making some new ones, and there have been some very special moments together.


 

the ham sisters

Most of all my sisters make me laugh.  Oh, we have our share of fights and disagreements.  But we never hold grudges.  The three of us were just not made that way.  We know we don't agree about everything, and sometimes we hotly disagree about things.  But in the end we are still sisters, and that is more important to us than any disagreement we have.  We accept the differences.  We are all uniquely different and we appreciate that in each other.  We find humor in almost everything.  That is one of our strengths.  That even when we are in the midst of a disagreement, one of us can make a  remark or crack a joke and we all laugh.  Every time.

will you turn that camera OFF?

That is part of our strength you see.  We complement each other.  We are stronger as a whole than as individual parts of the sum.  We see the humor in everything, and we have a wicked sense of it, often almost to the point of absurdity.  But we GET each other, and understand what the joke is about even if those around us are looking dumbfounded at us and scratching their heads.  Right now as I sit writing this about my wonderful sisters, they are interrupting me making jokes.  And I stop.  And we laugh.  Because that is what we do.

What can I say about my sisters?  That they are part of me.  That I understand them.  As they do me.  That I admire and love them and would do anything they asked of me.  That they are strong, courageous, wise women and I am proud to be their sister.  That had I had a chance to pick out the sisters I wanted when I was a girl, I could not have chosen two women any more perfect to be my sisters.  And I will always be grateful to them for all they are.

Even when Dooj is wearing my panties on her head to get a laugh, and Vix is snorking tea through her nose because I said something stupid.  That is what makes them perfect.

cath, vix,, and dooj