The Ultimate Career

I love this quote by C.S. Lewis!

"The homemaker has the ultimate career. All careers exist for one purpose only and that is to support the ultimate career."

It made me feel so good about myself this morning I cleaned a room that has been waiting for me for awhile! :)

Mother

I found out last night that my mother is dying and I am grieving, but not because I will miss her, but because I never had her. I haven't lived with her since I was ten years old—fifty years ago. It is hard to be the pariah of her family, but I cannot change what is. I can only be grateful that she gave me life, and through her troubled family I was exposed to the gospel! I am so grateful to have my wonderful Ron! He is my constant—the one who loves me! And, I’m grateful for my beautiful children!

I am hopeful that in the next life she will be able to see more clearly, to find a tiny piece of love for me, and to find peace and rest to her soul and to know that I forgive her. When I was little I called her Mamma. She had dark cholocate eyes, and thick beautiful dark brown hair with a hint of auburn when It caught the sun. I always wanted to have her hair instead of my golden locks and freckles. She was my sun and my moon and my stars. May God now bless and keep my Mamma!

Tender Love

There is nothing like Mom's lap no matter who you are.

This is a newborn offspring of Taskin, a Gypsy Stallion owned by Villa Vanners of Oregon . These pictures were taken immediately after his birth on April 6 last year. The mare laid down, and then he trotted around and crawled right up into her lap.

Is It Finally Spring?

I remember the morning, in the year 2000, when I looked out my window and was startled to see snow! How could this be? Where had spring, which I love best, and early summer and golden autumn gone? And, I remember feeling astonished to realize those seasons had slipped by in that dark time of illness and grief. I remember for several years how I could not tolerate the scent of even one single flower, when before I had loved flowers of every kind and hue! I’d loved their tender beauty, their soft petals and their fragrance—how I’d always loved them until that month I found my house filled with gorgeous hothouse blooms wafting the cloying scent of funeral. I remember when spring came again that year, how painful my beautiful season of hope and joy had become. So every year for ten years, as soon as the first crocus would begin to push out of the cold earth, I’d begin to mourn. And, gradually over the last few years, by the time April came, Robert’s April—Robert’s month of birth—and death, there were no tears or sorrow by then because I had cried them out in February and March.

Eventually, I could not resist my former love—their soft petals and sweet fragrance wooed me again and I knew I STILL love flowers! And then spring—oh glorious spring, it came again to my heart, after February and March wrenched it so. And, then this year—this year as the crocus peeked through the earth, I was startled again. I smiled it a welcome! This is the season of renewal, the season of hope, the season of the Lord’s resurrection and redemption! And, the season that I have finally started to remember! To remember my firstborn baby boy—the boy I loved—the boy I still love with a mother’s heart. And so I started the “Remembering Robert” blog. It’s February and I’m not crying, I’m looking at his sweet baby pictures and reveling in memories—good memories! Though I know it’s hard, please, please share your good memories too—even the little scraps that might not seem like much are precious to me! And each story and memory is bringing a smile to my face this year instead, of a tear!

Voices From Empty Houses

I wrote this poem twenty years ago and I felt like sharing it this morning, with all the young, lonely, stay at home Moms out there! And, you might say with a little touch of nostalgia for a coming day. Can you have nostalgia for a future event?

Voices From Empty Houses

I somehow feel like a stranger here.

A visitor from another planet—

Or a time traveler . . .

I remember mother's soft cotton house dresses

And sturdy loafers with bobby socks.

The "Leave It To Beaver" days . . .

Of housewives sharing coffee

And the streets filled with childsong!

Now a lonely dog barks in echo,

As a stiff breeze clangs the chain,

Of an empty playground swing.

Distant traffic the only reminder

That people rushing away from the suburbs

will return,

To pick up empty garbage cans,

And unlock silent doors.

As I walk . . .

Flags, raised like sentinels on mailboxes demand,

"Who goes there?"

And voices from the empty houses,

Wearing linen suits with tinkling heels asking,

"And, what do you do?"

Incongruous isn't it?

A housewife in jeans,

And tennis shoes . . .

The voices

From the empty houses proclaiming—

Times have changed.

Echoing other voices from empty houses

Like Bolsheviks and Marxists,

Who changed times, for a season.

I see the faces of little girls in day care centers,

Behind their Berlin Walls—

Crooning to their dolls . . .

Of soft cotton dresses,

And sturdy loafers with bobby socks.

Housewives sharing coffee,

And streets filled with childsong!

© Bonnie Holt (1990)

Queen Bee

Saturday night we went to a gathering of funeral directors. (Ron sells pre-need funeral plans and property.) While there we got talking to an old friend and somehow got on the subject of bees. In Arizona where he was raised, his scoutmaster kept beehives. So, he acquired two of his own. In one of his hives the bees were so mean and aggressive that he could hardly work with them. His scoutmaster and mentor told him to remove and kill the ill tempered Queen Bee and order a new one which he did. After about a month with the new Queen, which is the lifespan of a bee, the bees became so calm and docile that he almost could have handled them without protection. He then paid his wife a wonderful compliment on the tone of love and cooperation she had set for their home, and we all agreed how important it is to be a leader and the effect of that leadership on everyone! I wish I had always been that good of an influence on those I lead and love, but this story of the cranky Queen will help me remember that "when Mamma ain't happy, ain't nobody happy!