Maureen

She was Irish-born in Ireland Irish. She came to America on a boat when she was just 13. She couldn't swim. She settled in northern Ohio with her brother and sister in an Irish Catholic Community. She attended Catholic Schools. Once, she skipped school and took the train to New York City for the day. New York City! The nuns were none too happy upon her return. She joined The Service as a young woman. She felt called to serve this country in a time of war and need. She prayed everyday. She married and became a mother. Two boys and a girl. One of those boys was my dad. Danny Boy. She would sing it to him as a baby, and to be truthful, as an adult. She always called him Danny. Danny Boy the Marine Fighterpilot. "You be careful on those planes Danny." She drank hot tea. Only hot tea. She drank hot tea in August at the Fort Worth Stockyards. She drank hot tea at Disneyland. She drank hot tea in our home. She drank hot tea with her own mother and pet bird everyday. That bird spoke with an Irish Brogue. Noone understood it. She taught me to crochet when I was 11 years old. We picked out needles and yarn, and cussed at scissors that "wouldn't cut butter." I made my dad a scarf. a very long, uneven scarf. I think he even wore it. She took me to work with her in downtown Columbus. We ate lunch at Lazarus. We even rode the bus. To me, it was so fancy and sophisticated. We saw E.T.'s phone. Once, we came for a visit and my sister commented that "all the trees had leaves back home in our country." Ohio seemed like that-another country. I always wished our lives could be more intertwined. I always longed for our visits to be endless. There are already so many goodbyes etched in my mind...

She would bake sugar cookies and send them in the mail to us for holidays. She always had jello pudding pops. I must have watched The Wizard of Oz 500 times on her disc player-the huge disc players before there were even VCRs. They had a pet swan named Charlie. He lived in their garage in the winter. I think he was mean. She took me to church with her. She always went to huge Cathedral Churches. I thought they were beautiful. She sang so loud, and already knew all the words. She was always looking for a sale, and always knew the best places to find one. She had to alter all her own clothes because she was only 5 feet tall. She had purses and shoes to match every outfit. She loved jewelry-especially home shopping jewelry. She gave me her Claudaugh. They always had pets. Molly, Ricky and Simon (dog, dog and cat). When Simon had used his 9th life she called, "So that's the end of pets then." She was "tell it like it is woman." We coined that phrase once during a visit and it stuck. In 8th grade she and grandpa came to Corpus Christi while my parents searched for a new home in Fort Worth. I broke my leg on a trampoline. I can still see the worry on her face. Never jump on a trampoline with a sprinkler...just in case. She always bought Texas souvenirs for people in Ohio. Truly Texas Souvenirs too-things with boots and armadillos plastered on every surface. She always talked about how "steamin" it was down here. "How could we stand it?"

She and Grandpa came for a visit while I was in Washington, DC. We ate at every Bob Evans restaurant in the area, and toured the Basilica of the National Shrine to the Immaculate Conception. I convinced them to ride the Metro out there, and-I'm smiling as I type this now. I don't even remember the details, except for Grandpa's mistrust of the transportation and Grandma's worry about the safety of the transportation. Grandma drank in every inch of the Church. She bought a rosary. She knelt in prayer. I took them back to their hotel every night, after dinner at Bob Evans of course. It was the only time I was with them just me and them. They thought I was a grown up, and were so proud of me. We celebrated at Bob Evans.

She was here for my confirmation, my high school graduation, my college graduation, and she met each of my children. She loved pacifiers. She sent a bear that sang "When Irish Eyes are Smiling" to me when Madison was born. She talked of how she made her own formula, used cloth diapers, put the babies to bed, cleaned the house, and made dinner in the pressure cooker. How could anyone survive without a pressure cooker? I don't even know what one is, but I'm not sure how I'm surviving. She hated bugs. She always sat straight up in a chair or on a couch. Her feet didn't reach the floor. She rode on the passenger side of the car with a pillow against her chest because she felt she wasn't quite tall enough to meet the safety requirements. She always slept really hard, but teased grandpa for "sleeping with one eye open." She watched soaps, but "could miss them anytime." She would just tape them. She loved sweets, but only took a small bite. She said I made beautiful babies and that I should hold them tight.

She cooked ham and cabbage, and loved it. I try-really I do, but I don't think the ham and cabbage gene passed its way down to me. She did not like spicy food. We would pick Mexican Restaurants that served hamburgers as an option. We would always try to get her to eat a jalapeno-just to see her reaction and to hear her protest. Each time it was as if we asked her to hike across the desert in the steamin weather without hot tea at her disposal. She carried tea bags and sweet-n-low in her purse. "Just in Case." She told it like it was. It was so funny. She was so funny. So unique. Her name was Maureen, and she was my grandma.

Today I'm flying to Ohio to say a final goodbye. It's with a heavy heart that I'm desperately pulling for these precious memories. I want to close my eyes and remember all those days and moments we made into memories. I want to remember her for those years and know she's still with me because of them.

Class of 1993

The last night of the old Reunion, we had a casual meeting of our graduating class...our class that graduated 15 YEARS AGO! You'd think that since all these years had passed, I would be confident and cool walking into that room. wrong. I had a nagging nervousness all day, and had to self medicate before gathering the courage to go. Once I was there, I was timewarped back to 1993 and any self confidence I had built in these last 15 years was promptly shredded as I walked through the door. so annoying. I did enjoy talking with people while I was there, but also felt on stage the entire time...and as I talked with other people later in the night, I realized that I am not the only crazy person in the world-that almost everyone else feels the same way about high school. Isn't that crazy? Especially, if you think about it, if everyone is feeling insecure now, and also felt insecure then-who were the really confident people making us all so insecure? I think they were those little negative voices we have in our own heads...I think there may not have been anyone making me insecure but me. Now there's a revelation. Today I've been searching for quotes (long story), and stumbled upon this one:

"Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in
harmony." -Mahatma Gandhi

Just think-if you dismissed every negative image and thought about yourself or anyone else, and aligned that with what you said and did-imagine the self confidence and happiness that would just come crashing your direction. I think I'd be able to walk into any room and make a connection-make a splash in someone else's world. Because I'm good enough, smart enough, and dog gone it people like me!

Wise County Old Settler's Reunion

We just finished up the annual Wise County Reunion. For one week a year, all residents move out to these "camps" to spend the better part of each day and night. There is a carnival...

There are live bands and snowcones....

There are excessively late bedtimes and spontaneous domino tournaments....

I'm highlighting the festivities here, but I really can't do the essence justice. It's a wonderfully odd tradition, and one that we are increasingly becoming engrossed in as we continue to live, work, and play in this town. This was the first year our kids were old enough to stay up late, to participate in the nightly water balloon fights, and begin thinking about "checking in". What a wonderful invention that "checking in". We had the luxury of visiting while our children ran around like banshees untill all hours of the night...a childhood fantasy as well as a grown up one.

Good Times

Also while in LA, I found the time to stop and see my friend Sean. Sean and I went to high school together here in the big metropolis of Decatur. We continued to be friends as I made the choice to go to Aggieland, and he chose that other school. We took a road trip out to California one of those summers with Brandi-which is still one of my most favorite memories from college. Driving through 3 states-following the England truck, Brandi and I trying to sneak in a stop or two to shop, Navajo Tacos (bluck!), and the culmination in LA. We found Sean's apartment and then hit the town-all 19 years of us. wow. Good times. I'm pretty sure Brandi colored her hair red while we were there too...

Now he's all grown up living with his betrothed, Carter, and being all successful as the creator, producer, and king of GREEK. It was surreal hanging in his house while he made beeritas (tasty beverages by the way) and cooked some yummy lunch. It's almost as if time stood still from the last time we were in LA together. Good friends are like that-it doesn't matter how much time passes between visits, we just pick right back up where we left off. There's no stiff back-only lounging on the couch. A safe haven. Home.

So Not in Charge

I just got back from Sunny California-a long weekend with the girls in my family: my mom, sister, cousin, and her mom. A weekend where I adamantly refused to be in charge. Somehow that role kept getting dumped in my lap though! Next time I will be much more convincing! :) I have to say-we had a blast! My cousin, Gena, is the PR Director at the Four Seasons in Santa Barbara, so we pretended to be fancy shmancy while we stayed...

The hotel was beyond amazing. We had our own suite with adjoining courtyard, champagne delivered to our room, wonderful shampoos and soaps, heated tile in the bathroom...the list is endless. Todd just thought I was high maintenance before-this experience has brought my expectations to an entirely new level. (this pic was taken in our "living room" by the way.) Now I know I need 3 ice cubes in a glass for my dcoke, while I lounge in a fluffy robe with my toes in a mineral spa...

We hung in our luxurious accomodations on Thursday night, and headed for wine country on Friday. Can I just say that there might not be a better hobby than hopping all over Santa Barbara County and sipping lovely wine for free? My own piece of heaven involves living on a winery and floating the river-go figure how that is going to work out.

While we were tasting, my sister began wondering the differences between the 'wine trees', blah, blah, blah. I corrected her and my mother many times in that they were grapevines not wine trees; I'm pretty sure they weren't interested in my botany lesson at this point. We began buying wine in earnest, and looking forward to future wine consumption back at the resort. Which we did. That night we had a good old fashioned slumber party. Complete with snacks, beverages, stories, laughter, and some good bonding.

Saturday we recovered from Friday by shopping in Santa Barbara and heading to the beach. It was a winter beach to us Texans, so we wrapped up in our beach towels as we watched the ocean. We checked into a different hotel that night-one that was not quite as wonderful as what we are now accustomed to. Patti was certain a murder had taken place at one point-there seemed to be evidence still on the bathroom door, or perhaps it was the torn screen. We'll never know. It didn't matter though-we hung at Gena's beautiful apartment and bonded even more.

Sadly, we had to part on Sunday just as we were settling into a routine. I so wish California and Arizona were as close as Bridgeport and Chico!! My family seems to be at the edges of my grasp, and I just want to squeeze them in a little closer so we can live our memories day to day. I want to build on our history-from hanging at Thelma's house in Lubbock, to camping in Colorado-and sharing holidays in between. I'm already looking forward to the next visit; I'm already looking forward to sharing more of my history with my little hoodlums-maybe we'll find out where they grow beer trees or something?

this used to be our playground....

Today we planned on going to a peach orchard to harvest our very own fresh peaches. I led some members of my playgroup to the treasured destination (45 minutes away!) only to find out that the orchard will not open until after the 4th. I promise promise promise I called and left messages and checked the website, but tried to put away my OCD tendencies in favor of "letting things go" and "knowing it will all work out". whatever. This experience just solidified future OCD behaviors when making plans for groups of people. To make up for my spastic nonplanned plan, I decided to lead the playgroup peeps over to our old neighborhood playground with accompanying duckpond. (sounds like a good sell!) When we arrived, the kids were pumped about the ducks, and even though it was only our old neighborhood, we all seemed to go down memory lane a little. We talked about when the kids were little, those first days of mommyhood, and making the move to Decatur. It's been a trek for everyone that has taken it on. I even peeked in our old backyard at our now very LARGE tree. Looking around, I breathed in the memories of past walks through the neighborhood looking at pumpkins, walks around the pond watching for turtle heads, and going to the baby pool for a quick afternoon swim. Madison was 18 months old when we moved to Keller.
Tanner was born 5 months after we moved to Keller.

Grady was born 3 years after we moved to Keller-one year before the BIG MOVE to Decatur.


I think that little neighborhood will always make my heart smile-freshly picked peaches or not.