Stories preserve lives ... so tell them

Oh, how I miss you, Mom and Dad. 

Recently, I was thinking about what I should do with this blog. I started it in dealing with my aging and ill parents, and then it became about them ... and it became wildly popular with all of the people whose lives my parents touched. Writing this blog and hearing the stories about my parents and the people who loved them gave me peace and even joy during that most difficult time of my life. I got to tell my parents' story(s), through me and through those who shared their own memories of my parents.

The single most important thing to me at that time was preserving my mom and dad. I could not bear the thought of their lives ending. I couldn't stand that what was so central to my life was about to be over or, worse, forgotten. I thought that if I could tell and share and hear their stories ... and get it all in writing ... I could save them. I could keep Mom and Dad alive forever.

That's how stories work, right?

To me, nothing in this world is more important than preserving, sharing, respecting and remembering peoples' stories ... their lives. That's all we have — stories. And every story is important. Every story matters. The tears, the joys, the losses, the failures, and the ultimate triumphs. Every person's story shares those same elements. Every life has enjoyed and endured those things. Our stories connect us to one another, from generation to generation to generation ... and they should be told.

Many are, thankfully, and that's how we are blessed with the books and movies we love so much. Of course, true stories of real people come alive in books and movies, but even fiction is based in fact. And every fictional character represents someone real.

So during that time of caring for my parents and subsequently writing posts for this blog, I preached that people should start gathering, saving, writing down ... everything possible ... those things that represented the lives of those important to them, especially for the older folks. I still believe this is a most important task and encourage all who can to do so for their loved ones ... and for themselves. I'm glad to say my kids and future grandkids will get to hear and see lots of stories about Jim and Nicki.

Clearly, my mother valued stories, as well. (She was quite the reader and book lover ... and had her master's degree in library science.) In 2007, she started a blog — Reflections on the Way We Were: Childress High School Class of 1963, that ran for several years. She and her classmates reflected on their lives and history. They shared their current lives with one another, as well. Those writings for all those years in that blog and the subsequent blogs along the way contain valuable history and stories about those people, as well as a ton of wisdom and insight! (Check out the "1968" post.)

How awesome is that!?

On Thanksgiving this year, Jennifer Johnston, one of my mother's classmates who wrote and administered the blogs with my mom, sent me a memory my mother had shared in the comments of one of the posts. Mom wrote about what Jordie and Cole were thankful for at that time in their very young lives, and, of course, it was cute. Jordie and Cole gave my parents so much joy.

I cried, of course. I shed tears of loss, but also of gratefulness. Tears that needed sharing in my still very raw grief. (I'm beginning to wonder whether it will ever end ... )

Jennifer has decided to close out those special blogs. They will still be available for anyone to read and/or stumble upon someday, but she is writing an "ending" that proves to be more central and uplifting than what has seemed lately like an endless line of obituaries for their class of 1963. I mean, really, how depressing is that? Jennifer is doing the right thing. Our lives are more than the endings!

I am so very grateful my mother had the foresight to create those blogs! She and those who shared of themselves and their memories helped preserve lives and history. She and they have given me and others stories. Of real people. Of real lives. Of real sorrows. Of real triumphs.

And, who knows? Maybe someone will come across those blogs dedicated to that small and special Childress Class of 1963 and transform the tales into something others might someday enjoy on a big movie screen. Why not? How else do stories come to life for all to enjoy and relate?

It's certainly something to ponder. And, again, please consider the task of preserving the lives of you and your loved ones ...

As for this blog ... I still don't know.

I'm just thankful for all the stories that get me through everyday life and connect me to you. Grief certainly makes life lonely sometimes.

Trip highlights (sort of)

This is one of the many antique shops we visited in Wiscasset, ME. 

It's been more than a month since my last post. During that time, I spent two weeks on my trip east —half of it with Jordie and half of it with Kim. 

On the first half of the trip, Jordie and I drove to Chicago to sightsee and watch a Cubs game. Then we headed toward Baltimore to catch an Orioles game at Camden Yard, which is a super nice field. The game was fun, but it wasn't as awesome as Wrigley Field in Chicago, with all the crazy, screaming fans. 

After our Baltimore and Chicago (mis)adventures (driving in downtown areas pulling the trailer, I might add), we headed to Boston to do the touristy things. LOVED it! But I wish we had had more time.  I definitely want to go back.

Don't ask about our drive through New Jersey and New York City. HIDEOUSLY stressful. By the way, Gov. Christie is a thief. Those New Jersey toll fees are criminal. We paid $50 at one of them!! I don't know why, either, because the state's roads are terrible. Is all that money padding politicians' pockets, instead of going to road maintenance???

Kim and I sat at a little cafe for lunch in Townsend, MA. Lots and lots of little white churches in the Northeast.

Jordie and I had a great time at the awesome Wrigley Field. 

One of many fancy homes in Martha's Vineyard.

Jordie flew back to Amarillo from Boston, because school started in a couple of days for him, and Kim met up with me in Boston. Kim and I began the "girly" and antique portion of the trip with our Boston Harbor (Hahba) cruise and then our drive to West Townsend, MA. 

From Massachusetts, we headed up into Maine so I could shop at all the places I've only seen and heard about. I felt all giddy and like a kid in a candy store the whole time. Poor Kim. She's not into my kind of early American antiques. But she was a trooper anyway. 

This is the red-painted hutch table and yellow Samuel Gragg elastic back Windsor chairs I picked up in Massachusetts. 

We ate lobster rolls, and I don't even like lobster. These surprised me so much that I ate them at two different places. We saw so many beautiful homes and landscapes, I didn't want to come home. I wanted, instead, to tell Dorsey to pack up and move us to Maine. He would never, of course. 

I guess I'll just make another trip or two in my lifetime ...

After spending two nights in Portland, ME., which I really enjoyed and could have spent more time, Kim and I headed to Falmouth, MA., where we took the ferry across to Martha's Vineyard. We spent a day sightseeing MV,  and then it was time to head back home ... for two-and-a-half days.

The overall trip was great. I enjoyed everything we did, but I could have spent so much more time at each place. I felt disappointment at leaving each destination — except Baltimore. Baltimore scared the crap out of me. I learned, too, to avoid busy cities when pulling a trailer. Way too scary. I mean, really really scary. 

I also learned I need to learn to back up the trailer, even though I don't like it. To me, the best way to back up a trailer is to not have to. 

I found, too, that I can do just about anything scary (i.e., out of my comfort zone) I make myself ... I drove almost 5,000 miles. Just me. I didn't let Jordie or Kim help. (Audio books are the best.) 

Kim and I headed home by way of the southern states until we got to Flower Mound, where I dropped Kim off, spent the night and headed home. 

I missed my family and my zoo!  

Allie was so clingy when I got home. 

Max has sat in the water bowl since he was little. I don't think he realizes he's getting too big.

Emma's all snuggled up to Indy.

These three pups love one another.

It's been nice to be home — although I'm already thinking about the next trip east, next summer! It was that impressive to me.

I'll write a new post in a couple of days about what's been happening since that trip ... like painting projects and an antique show.  And Mama Kitty. 

More pics, too. 

Next up: Trip of a lifetime

Early Sunday morning, I begin my big journey east ... because I "have to" pick up some antiques I bought in Massachusetts way back in December.

But Dorsey can't go with me because he started a new job not that long ago — although he could go if he wanted, but it just wouldn't be right, you know? 

From the start, I've had absolutely no qualms about traveling that far by myself ... in my truck and pulling my trailer. I think that maybe, besides getting to have amazing antiques in my house and always searching for even better ones, the best part of being an antiques dealer is traveling to all the places I only dreamed about as a child. Maine is one of them. 

Ever since I saw the movie "On Golden Pond," (1981 ... I was 13), I've wanted to go to Maine. In my mind at the time, I never imagined in a million years I would get to go to Maine. Maine was like a whole different country ... even though it's super close to a whole different country. (Yes, I know "On Golden Pond" was not actually set in Maine. But, to me at the time, Maine and New England were synonymous. I think "On Golden Pond" was actually set in New Hampshire?" Someone Google it for me. I'm too lazy.)

Seeing Maine was so important to me that my first fiance (back when I was only 22) planned our honeymoon to Maine. That's how he proposed to me, in fact ... with a Maine travel guide. 

That marriage and that trip never happened.

But 25 years later, Maine is.

First, however, I get to hang out with my 21-year-old baseball playing, baseball loving son. 

So Sunday morning, Jordie and I set out toward Chicago, where we will watch the Cubs play the Brewers at Wrigley field. And while we're there, we will "do" Chicago as much as a day-and-a-half will allow.

Then we will head toward Baltimore by way of Pittsburg first, so that we can see the Orioles play the Astros a few days later. 

(Did I mention that one of the best days of my life — EVER — Hands down — Was when Jordie and I saw the Mets play in NYC while Dorsey worked in nearby Connecticut? Yes. As the song played on the train there that day, "This is gonna be the best day of my lii-ii-ife," it truly was an amazing day.)

After that, Jordie and I head to Boston and spend what little time we have left (a little more than a day)  to experience whatever we can. (Yes, we will be pulling a trailer, and that scares the ever-livin' daylights out of me. But I have confidence ...) 

And, yes, sadly, we're kind of blowing through NYC since we've already gotten to do that, but not Boston. It's just a reality of time and money.

On the 21st, Jordie has to fly back home so he can get back to school. 

BUT ... graciously, my sister flies into Boston about the same time Jordie flies out so that I don't have to finish the last leg of the trip alone. (What? Do people think I can't handle it? Pee Shawwww! I've been pushed out of my comfort zone so many times in the past couple of years, I'm pretty sure I can do anything as long as God (and AudioBooks) is (are) driving ... )

So when Kim gets to Boston, we chill in Boston then head for West Townsend, Massachusetts, so that I can retrieve my goods. We will take it all in there ... and then the fun really begins!

Maine, Maine, Maine. Antiques. Antiques. Antiques. I have it all mapped out.

And when I'm finished doing my thing in Maine, we do Kim's thing at Martha's Vineyard ... not that I'm opposed or anything ... before we head back to the great state of Texas. 

It will take us roughly two-and-a-half days from Massachusetts to Flower Mound, where Kim gets home and I take a nap for the night before heading back to Amarillo.

Two weeks. Two whole weeks to explore much of the eastern part of the United States I've never had the opportunity to see. 

Yes, it's a big deal for a poor kid from Amarillo. I do mean poor. Ask my parents. They'll vouch for me. 

I do believe God gives us the (pure) desires of our hearts ... no matter how many years down the road it takes.

So far, God is batting 1000 in my heart's desires. Maine (and all the rest of the New England states and southeastern states that I someday get to explore further) is one of many. 

(So let me just add another thoughtful addition to this already lengthy explanation of my life's planned-yet-unplanned journeys: Just in case without my knowledge it's my time to go and I don't get to see the rest ... that's OK, I still get to see all the rest!)

In the meantime,  I plan to come back with plenty of photos and stories about this trip. 

Thank you thank you thank you, God. You have every idea how much this means to me. :-)

Can't believe it's happening ... have you ever really stopped and thought about the course of your life ... CRAZY and unexpected, for sure.

... but I'm going to miss Dorsey and my zoo so much! 

My new normal

I wasn't having fun at that moment. In fact, I texted Dorsey: "I'm DONE!"

So much has happened in the almost-month since I last posted. The most significant thing, I suppose, was surviving my second antique show ... this one in Richmond, IN.  This is how it happened, and this is what I learned:

First leg of the trip. Lovely, right?

Loading up. Tornado hit 6 miles from us.

New brick floor while I was gone. Could not be happier.

Greatest find so far. c.1810 New England corner cupboard, original paint

• Just me and Mary: We did it!
• Just me pulling our 11X14 trailer for 15 hours each way: I can do it. Keep packing that cooler with healthy food. 
• Listening to two David Baldacci books along the way: Love Baldacci and appreciate books on CD soooooooo much! (Do audio books count as reading?)
• Experiencing part of the country I've never seen before: This may be the best part of this business venture. Travel travel travel!
• Denting a wheel cover on the trailer the very first day of the trip: Make wide turns, especially at the gas station. 
• Unloading 90 percent of the trailer for the show all by myself: I can do it.
• Loading and unloading in the rain and tornado warnings: That sucked. But even then it was funny. Don't wear flip flops.
• Learning more about the antique business from my mother-in-law and others: Love learning. Must stay positive at all times. 
• Buying the most gorgeous corner cupboard I've ever seen: Probably won't be able to sell this antique. Dorsey and I love it!
• Unloading 90 percent of the trailer back into the house and shop upon returning home: I rock.
• Redecorating my entire house once I returned: Whew! I kinda like doing that.
• 
  

  

  Redecorating can be great fun!

• Getting a brand new kitchen floor ... which I love and adore and love love love: Why didn't I do that sooner? :-) ALWAYS do renovations when you don't have to be there in the mess ... if you suffer from OCD!
• Shows will be much better and less stressful when Dorsey can go, too: I'm strong, but, damn, it's hard work and I'm not getting any younger! And Mary is 88 years old and should NOT be doing this stuff. (She can PACK a trailer!)

I think I'm finding my life's new "normal." :-)

One year is just around the corner ...

Since my parents died close to a year ago now, I sometimes feel like all I am is a downer when it comes to discussing this whole grief ordeal. Yes, there have been some really great times during the past year ... got to go to Sandpoint, ID, and to Curacao, and I started my Tin Cats Antiques business.

All of that has been great, and the business has been the perfect distraction from my emotional reality.

But, honestly, since about Thanksgiving or a little before, I have struggled. I got a little break from constant sadness when getting ready for Round Top, and then during Round Top ... but then a man from Santa Fe visited with us for a long time at our booth ... and the man looked like my dad in the eyes. I swear we could have been talking to my dad! 

After that, I had difficulty concentrating, especially during the last two days of the show when it was so slow, and because I was sooooo drained. I hadn't had much time to myself, so I felt pretty crowded and overwhelmed.

For a week after Round Top, my days were a flurry and a mess. I had to get my financial stuff straight, figure out where to store furniture our house can't handle, and get some much-needed things done around the house.

Everything is in order now. Dorsey started his new job TODAY! (We've known about it since the day we left for Round Top — thank you, Jesus.) Finances are in order. Taxes are filed. The garage is fixed and painted (Dorsey did it), insurance policies have changed, health insurance is taken care of, pets are all good, the inside of the house is all painted and caught up, the trailer for hauling antiques is bought, Jordie is having a phenomenal baseball season and I'm getting to go to all the games ... 

And here we are. Almost all caught up. 

Mom and Dad with Jordie in May of 2013. Yes, we knew Dad had cancer, and yes, Mom had just had a "small" stroke. Still ... all was well. 

So today, with Dorsey away on his first day on the job (in Tampa — we stay in Amarillo), my parents' deaths hit me like a hurricane, reminding me that distractions only work for a little while. Only a little while. There is no escape from grief. None.

So what happened today to set me off? My usual walk with Indy when I tell God I'm all messed up and confused and disordered, and I don't know where to turn or what to do. And then Jordie texted me that he will be pitching on Friday — his 21st birthday. — and my first thought is, "I need to call Dad!" 

Whoops.

Dammit! (No, Jordie, it's not your fault. It's life.)

And here I am again. 

I know this grief thing is forever. 

I know it is. I will never NOT miss my parents. I will never stop wanting to see them again. I will never stop hoping for the evasive visit from the heavens ... 

But I'm truly counting on the words of my friends before me who say that someday, the memories and thoughts will be more pleasant than painful.

I  need that to be true. 

It's only been almost a year ... I don't think I can last another 30-40 years otherwise ... 

Lord, have mercy.

Baptism by fire

Stuff EVERYWHERE! The cats are totally bent out of shape.

Here we go, folks! Dorsey recently posted on the Wilmarth's Tin Cats web site that everything is about to get real ... his perspective.

Of course I get my two-cents worth.

I've been told by fellow dealers I'm getting to know that I'm nuts for debuting our business at a show like Round Top. It is, after all, HUUUUGE! And a big deal. And respected.

And lasts for six days instead of the usual two to three!

Here it all goes, then. Call me brave, call me stupid. It's happening.

I'm totally stoked about this late 1700s hutch table from New Hampshire. If it doesn't sell in Round Top, well, darn, I guess I just get to live with it for a while. :-)

I have spent the last several months plotting and planning my merchandise. I have had all of my "smalls," as we call them in the business, and quite a few furniture items, but my main pieces, the ones I've been extremely excited about, finally arrived after a touch-and-go, nerve-wracking few weeks of truck driver serious illness, bad Louisiana flooding and broken trailer parts. Still ... it's all good now. Besides, what would life be without drama ... always some drama.

I love the grain-painted mustard dry sink (top left). The top right shows a celery painted hanging cupboard.
The green-painted basket and tall wall cupboard came from my new friend in Sedona.

Arizona finds. They all came from New England, of course, but I found them in AZ.

And I found a few bonus items on an unexpected trip just the previous week when I traveled to Arizona to see Jordie pitch in a Tucson baseball tournament. Who would have thought? After all, my stuff is early American, mostly country antiques. Arizona wasn't even founded until 1912 ...

During the first week of March, I set out to get everything on my checklist for my booth and the trip ... much of what was learned after we visited the Round Top Winter Show in January, and from my mother-in-law's vast experience.  My new dealer friends have given their input, too.  Wall paper, tool kit, lights, packing stuff, hooks, nails, screws, signs, bags, various tapes, tax registration info, receipt book, pens, money, tape measure, step ladder, rug ... and all kinds of things I would never think of on my own.

This past week has found me battling a migraine (thank you, West Texas wind) while enduring my torn up house and packing for the show. (Not to mention Dorsey was gone a day or two for job interviews ... still working on that.)

Two kitties think they should go, too.
Socks is guarding all the tools and other important things.

Oh, and then there's the whole planning-what-am-I-going-to-wear-for-six-days-straight? To me, that's the worst part.  I hate packing. Really, really, really hate it. What if I forget something important, like the hanging clothes that aren't packed in my suitcase? Which black sandals do I take? The strappy ones or the wedges? Or both? Both pairs of boots or one? Will this top look OK with that skirt? What about these jeans? Boot-cut or narrow? How about a couple of each? Ugh!

Dorsey picks up the U-Haul trailer in the morning, and we load, with the help of a friend. That's when we run through the checklist one more time and then hit the road. I'm glad to have Dorsey with me this time. That trip to Arizona (and back pulling a trailer) by myself was quite a drive and an adventure!

We'll spend the night with Kim and Vince tomorrow night in Flower Mound and then head on to Round Top Saturday for set up. The show starts Monday. (I still think it's strange this is all happening Easter weekend ...)

And meanwhile, our friend Carmen will be holding down our fort and taking care of our crazy herd.

What a strange new world this is!

Saddest but best lesson learned about grief support

Sadly, I have reached the age when others in my age range also are losing their parents. It's just the cycle of life, I know.

But that doesn't make it any better or even OK.  I have discovered in the two years of watching my parents suffer and then pass that not much is harder than this process. Not much rivals the difficulty and the grief of becoming an orphan, even at the ripe old age of 46. I believe I have said this before, but there is something childlike in all of us that reappears strongly when we lose our parents.

We always want and need our parents. If the relationship has been a loving and healthy one — even with the typical dysfunctions — or if the relationship was estranged or strained, we want our parents. We either want what we had, or we want what we always wanted to have in a parent.

It makes no difference, so I will say it again: Losing your parents is difficult, no matter what. I have learned much, changed much, hurt much, grieved much and continue in all these matters. I will never be the same.

I am writing this particular post because I need to share something that has been on my heart since Day 1, pretty much. I have often hesitated to write it, fearing it might sound bitter. I hope this one doesn't come across that way.

I now know that when my classmates and school friends — people with whom I once was close or spent much time with in school, sports, work or church — lost parents or a parent at far earlier ages than I did must have been as hurt by me as I have been by some of my former associates.

Here's why: I didn't "get it." I didn't understand the devastation of losing parents. I didn't consider that all support, any support from others but especially people they might have expected to respond in such a time would be and was eternally appreciated.

I failed to be a friend in several of my friends' lives, and for that, I will be forever regretful. If they noticed my absence, I am so sorry ... much more sorry than they might know, because now I do get it.

I hope to someday, maybe soon, make it right with those people who come to my mind immediately. And I know that besides those, God will make aware to me whomever else deserves an amends.

I realize there are all kinds of reasons people fail to attend funerals: conflicts, they live too far away, can't bear funerals, they were out of town, they didn't know until after the fact.  I've had all of those reasons myself. Some are quite legitimate, but really, we can generally work around most.

While attending a funeral for a friend truly might be out of the question, never is there an excuse for not offering condolences or a kind word. Ever.

I'm not sure I failed in that, but probably I did, being human and all. If I did, I will do my best to make that right, as well.

I have so much appreciated all the love and support and kindness people have shown me during this time. People came out of the woodwork! People I didn't know. People I had lost contact with. Even people I knew don't care that much for me. Just people everywhere. That is the best feeling in the world. It's also so important during the early grieving process, and especially as the grieving continues and peoples' lives go on.

Remember that. Let's try to be there for our friends and associates. A kind word and the smallest gestures travel miles.  Attending funerals in support of families and in remembrance of the one who has passed is ... I have no words for that ... Let's just do it if we can.

My new favorite room in the house

Panorama of the newly decorated room. Notice Blaze photobombing with a bath.

The newly decorated room in our house holds significance for me. It has had many roles since we moved into our house about 14 years ago. Jordie and Hart shared it when they were little. Then Hart took it over when he reached middle school. Then Jordie took it when Hart went to college. And for a couple of months last year, Dorsey and I occupied it while Mom and Dad lived in our normal quarters.

It has remained Jordie's room all this time, but he has reached a stage (sadly) in his life in which baseball keeps him away. He doesn't and won't come home every weekend anymore. <sniff>

Since Hart had the room, it has not been repainted. Need I say how badly it needed it? I decided to overhaul it completely. I was tired of the "dark" decor before. I needed light and bright. I needed clean-looking. I wanted it to have the same blue and white color scheme (although not seascape) of the bathroom Dorsey and I had redone just the previous year.

I think I managed, so I'll show you in pictures. (I apologize for the arrangement. Blogger sucks at this!) This room is all about family and family history, inspired by Mom and Dad. :-)

This comforter and pillows had at one time been on my parents' bed.
The bedside table is part of the once-navy blue furniture that belonged to my dad's dad. Mom had painted it from its original blonde to navy. I repainted and put new hardware on it. I love the water lilies painting above the bed. 

I painted this once-unpainted TV stand red
many years ago. Here, I have repainted it.

I saw this cabinet a few weeks ago in a consignment
store. Had to have it for this room. 

This cabinet holds favorite children's books.
The bottom cabinet holds more books and photo boxes.

My Great Grandmother Cummins painted this lamp. It's Kim's. I'm just holding it for her.

This dressing table is now a mismatched distressed blue with Chippendale hardware. (I know, the styles don't go together.) Underneath the glass I have made a collage of old family photos, as far back as 1900. The bulk of the photos are currently in separated boxes that someday I intend to organize in photo albums. That's what Mom always wanted to do. Those photos are stored in this room, as well.  I didn't use the original mirror with this table. Didn't like it! The new one is from Kirkland's ... another mismatched, distressed blue.

The dresser, with another painted lamp, and a older family photo. 

Colored pencil drawing of a young Hart. (Sun shadow, sorry.)

Colored pencil drawing of a young Jordie.

The hope chest belonged to my dad's side of the family. It's art deco, not really my style, but it's family. The quilts also all are early 1900s from the Childress side of the family. Those cats on the top are actually a hooked rug I bought.

The oriental rugs for the room haven't arrived yet, and I'm sure I'll continue to change and refine as I go along. I need photos from Dorsey's side of the family to complete the family theme of this room. (Hint hint, Mary.)

Anyway, I've had a lot of fun and experienced many memories doing this room. I worried when doing it that it wasn't going to be the 18th Century style of our antiques business. I worried that the Chippendale hardware I was putting on the old but non-Chippendale furniture was stupid. But as I went along and enjoyed what I was doing with the things I have, I stopped worrying. I remembered a friend saying that she had heard from someone else in the decorator world that anything in your home that brings you joy should be in your home, regardless of matching or mismatching styles.

This now my favorite room in the house. It brings me joy.