Category: Life Lessons

Lessons we (hopefully) learn through our day to day lives…

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Looking Ahead

Looking Ahead!

I went for a walk by the lake this morning with a friend.

As I often do when walking by myself, I hopped up onto a parking curb and walked the length of it putting one foot in front of the other. When I reached the end I paused, looked ahead to the next curb, and stepped across the gap without touching the ground. My friend chuckled when she saw me – a 50+ year old woman playing tightrope on parking curbs in broad daylight…..but I didn’t care and just kept on going. After a moment, I smiled to myself as I heard her step up onto the parking curb behind me to give it a try herself. Finding it a bit more challenging than she thought, she hesitated when she nearly lost her balance. “Always look ahead!”, I called back to her. “Don’t look at where you are – look ahead to where you’re going. It makes it easier!” She tried it – and it worked instantly. She too began stepping from curb to curb behind me, trying to walk the entire line without touching the ground. (I only stepped off twice.) It was fun!

As I walked, I thought about the advice I had given to my friend – and how much it actually applies to life.

“Don’t look at where you are…!”

Looking down at our feet throws us off balance and leaves us unprepared for what lies ahead. When we’re looking forward to see where we’re going, we walk more confidently and successfully.

Our lives can often be fairly hectic – filled with bills, decisions, responsibilities, news reports, and the many stresses of life today….If we focus our attention mainly on those things, on where we are, our days can be pretty difficult. Even things that are supposed to be fun can be disappointing!

“… look ahead to where you’re going.”

Setting goals helps us keep our eyes on what’s ahead. One of my favorite Bible verses is Proverbs 29:18 “Where there is no vision, the people perish…” This verse can be interpreted in different ways, but I like to think that it means we should have vision for the future, that we should set goals and work toward them excitedly and expectantly. My goals perhaps aren’t always particularly impressive to hear – but they are motivating to me – and they keep me looking ahead to better things.

When I broke my arm this past February, I had no idea how long it would take that arm to feel normal again. I had never broken a bone – so in my ignorance I thought the doctor set your arm, you wore a cast, you got it off, you did therapy for a few weeks and you were good to go forever. This has not been the case at all with me. The break in my arm healed, the cast/splint was removed, and I was sent home with a printed paper explaining the therapy exercises I should do. (Due to COVID-19, supervised therapy was not recommended.) I did the exercises and truthfully they didn’t seem to help at all. I reached out to friends and tried other exercises they suggested. These helped a bit more and I was grateful – but my right arm (my dominant arm) still had a long way to go! I had trouble writing. I had trouble typing. I had trouble driving. I couldn’t even open the door to my car without great effort! My arm was in pain much of the time. Most of my normal day-to-day activities were hampered by my temporarily handicapped arm. So, I kept on working. I tried some new strength building exercises. I researched essential oils to help with healing and applied them daily….and each day my arm gets a little bit better. It’s on the mend! I can now type (obviously! 🙂 ). I can write. I can open the car door. I can drive….

Why did I keep on looking for ways to make my arm better? Because I KNEW it would be fine one day – and I wanted to work to make that happen as soon as possible! I didn’t focus on where I was – I looked ahead happily to the day my arm is back to normal.

It makes it easier!”

How does looking ahead with vision and a good attitude make things easier? Life is happier when we are thinking and planning on good things!

For example, it’s supposed to rain here much of the day tomorrow. So……I can’t go to the pool for a swim. I can’t go for my morning walk. I can’t work in my flower bed.

Hmmmmmm….that means I can plan on a cozy slow morning indoors! I love to read. That sounds like a good option for tomorrow! For some reason, I always enjoy cooking and baking more when the rain is falling outside. I’m already thinking about what to make! Sounds fun! If I’m going to be home in the morning, I don’t have to put on makeup when I wake up! Yay! Another win! I love to write. Maybe I can squeeze in some time for that while it’s raining. Wow! It’s already sounding like a great day! I’m excited!

Choosing to think on good things is sometimes more difficult than others – but it’s worth the effort. It doesn’t mean we should ignore the bills, the responsibilities, the decisions – it just means we should work to not get mired down in them. Worrying about them doesn’t make them go away. In fact, it doesn’t really accomplish anything at all…..but choosing to think on good things can definitely have a positive effect! Try it!

Oh, and by the way, the next time you see a parking curb – step up and see if you can walk the length of it tightrope style.

Go on.

I dare you!

But be careful – seriously…broken bones are no fun! 🙂

(And no – that’s not how I broke my arm! 🙂 No parking curbs were involved in my fall! )

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Adulting Can Be Fun

A few days ago, I had lunch with my mother at our local Cracker Barrel restaurant. As we were leaving, I walked past a retired couple seated against the wall at a tiny table for two. I had to chuckle when I read her sweatshirt. Emblazoned on the front in big letters it said, “Warning! Don’t Grow Up – It’s a Trap!” I stopped to tell her how much I liked it, and we all shared a laugh.

The weather was beautiful that day – very bright and spring-like for February in the Ozarks. Mother and I decided to relax on my porch swing for a bit before she headed home. We chatted for awhile, then we both began to feel drowsy and the conversation slowed. As we sat comfortably enjoying the swing – two retired couples strolled out from neighboring condos to enjoy the afternoon sun. The two men began playing shuffleboard, while the women sat at a picnic table and visited. In a few minutes, another lady joined them and they all sat chatting happily. Before long, the women left their spots at the shady picnic table and headed out to the basketball court, giggling like school girls. Locating a couple of basketballs, they went to work trying to see how many baskets they could make. (Not many! 🙂 ) Their obvious lack of basketball skills definitely did not affect their fun! They were trying fearlessly, laughing at themselves when they missed and chasing the ball down to try again – simply enjoying each and every moment. There were awkward granny shots, hilarious air balls, and even a few great shots that were nothing but net. In the end it didn’t really matter. They were all just having a good time!

Our drowsiness gone, Mother and I sat smiling, now watching both the shuffleboard contest and the basketball tournament with interest. We each selected a basketball player (my player had a blue shirt and hers had a white shirt) and kept score from afar to see which one of our chosen players would win.

It was such a simple, relaxing way to pass the afternoon – and I enjoyed it thoroughly. I am inspired to see people who aren’t afraid to try – even when their skills are not the best. I love finding people willing to laugh at their shortcomings. I appreciate those who step out of their comfort zone instead of sitting on the sidelines. Mostly, I truly enjoy seeing people who celebrate life’s simple pleasures.

Long ago, my first year as an elementary school teacher was both exciting and very challenging. There were so many things to learn that year – so many “firsts” to face. I wanted so badly to do a good job, and I worked very hard every day. I enjoyed my students and my work colleagues immensely – but sometimes I felt overwhelmed and discouraged. In those times, I would often pick up the phone to call my Mother for encouragement. She would listen to my concerns then offer good advice. Sometimes she would share a Bible verse, or a song, or an encouraging poem or article she had saved. I would always feel uplifted. During one such call, however, she completely surprised me. After listening to my discouragement and complaints, she asked me to do her a favor. She told me she wanted me to “school hop” (her term for skipping) up and down my hallway at home two times after we hung up the phone. She insisted on this, telling me that she would be calling back to confirm that I had completed her request. I hung up and stood there alone in my own home arguing with myself. I was an adult now – I couldn’t skip up and down the hallway! Good grief!!! How silly would that be? Reasons why this was definitely not a logical action filled my head. I actually felt annoyed! Didn’t I have enough stress without having to worry about this absurd request??? I questioned whether Mother really understood how I felt – and I turned to walk away, sit on the couch, and think some more about my difficult day. I knew she would call back though – and I didn’t want to disappoint her – so…..I took a deep breath, checked ALL the curtains to be absolutely certain they were closed – and skipped down my hall. I turned around and skipped the other way, repeating the entire process twice. I felt COMPLETELY ridiculous….but you know what? When I had finished – I was no longer thinking about all of the stresses of that week. I was out of breath and chuckling – and my mindset had completely changed.

I think the lady at Cracker Barrel was right, in a way! We don’t ever have to completely grow up. Life has many, many responsibilities, stresses, and chores – but it (can) also hold a lot of joy. Sometimes, even (or perhaps especially) on the most difficult days, we need to square our shoulders, throw aside our worries as much as possible and go outside to play – to act silly, to laugh, to find a way to relax and simply enjoy the blessings around us. It’s not always easy to escape the trap – but it’s definitely worth the effort.

Thank you for reading this post. By the way, today was a very long, busy, hectic day for me. I may just go skip down my hallway now – but first, I’ve gotta check the curtains!

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A Lasting Impact

I have had many heroes and heroines in my life – people who have affected me deeply through words, actions, and examples. We all impact people practically every day – whether positively or negatively. It doesn’t take great notoriety or power to have a lasting effect on others. Sometimes only one brief conversation we have, one quick decision we make, or one action we take can have such a powerful and lasting influence on others…

Last weekend, I drove to central Arkansas to visit family, including my beloved Aunt Bernie. She is an absolute delight to be around, so I always look forward to our talks. A lifelong educator, she loves to discuss teaching, education, and kids. She has wonderful stories of her many years as a classroom teacher, and I love to listen when she shares. Raised with some affluence in Little Rock, she moved to the rural countryside after she married. A city girl, it was an entirely new way of life for her, but she adapted quickly. In her early years as an educator, she taught my father and my uncles in a little two-room country schoolhouse before moving on to a larger, more traditional school (where I later attended).

Aunt Bernie knows the key to being a great educator is building relationships with students – and she has helped to instill the significance of that in me. She does this possibly better than anyone else I know, and I have seen firsthand the lasting impact it has had on her pupils. Retired for decades, she still keeps up with her former students as much as possible. She is saddened when she hears they have faced setbacks and happily celebrates when she hears of their successes. They are, in her words, “her kids” and she is fiercely proud of them all.

When I timidly began school as a first grader, “Mrs. Bernie” was a fifth grade teacher just down the hall. I was so very proud that my aunt was a teacher at the school – and I believed she was the absolute best teacher there. I was always happy to see her during the school day – standing outside her classroom door or supervising students on the playground – partly because she is my aunt – but also because she truly exudes joy and love. She makes others happy with her smile, her laugh, and her genuine appreciation for them, and I felt comforted in my new environment knowing she was there.

When I grew up and decided to become a public school teacher, she was a great encourager. She talked with me about my teaching and my students. She traveled to another state where I lived and proudly toured my classroom. I enjoyed talking with her about my students each year, about the current trends and challenges in education, and the joys and stresses of being a professional educator. She would listen intently and offer good advice. She has always been an enthusiastic listener and supporter. In other words, my Aunt Bernie has definitely been a role model in my life, and I am forever grateful.

While visiting with her last weekend, it was no surprise when the conversation quickly once again turned to education. This time, however, my aunt was so happy to show me an article in central Arkansas’ 501 Life magazine. In the February 2020 edition, there is an interview with a gentleman named Joe Canady, branch president of the NAACP in Conway County, Arkansas. Mr. Canady references people who have had a significant impact on his life including his mother, his grandmother, a lady from his church….and my aunt Bernie. She was so incredibly excited to show it to me.

The entire article can be accessed by clicking the picture. I hope you will read it!

An excerpt is copied here:

Canady was in the fifth grade when his all-black school closed and integrated with Wonderview. While you didn’t have to look far to find racial tension in those days, his new classroom was more awkward than hostile. As the kids gravitated to seats based on their race, one of Canady’s more prominent early role models emerged.

“When the little black kids and the little white kids came together, it was a different experience for us,” he said. “But I remember my fifth-grade teacher, Mrs. Beeson, mixed her classroom (seating) up. She said we’re one class and we’re all going to get along. From that point on, I held her in high regard as to helping our transition go smoothly.”

That year I mentioned earlier, when I was in first grade was also the year Mr. Canady was in my Aunt Bernie’s 5th grade class. I must admit, my eyes teared and I sat up a little straighter when I read his words…and I was (and always am) so proud to be her niece.

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Forrest L. Wood

I’ve heard about fellow Arkansan Forrest L. Wood for most of my life, but sadly I never had the privilege of meeting him in person. My daddy visited with him once or twice and considered it an honor. I certainly knew of Mr. Wood’s notoriety. I have seen his plaque on the Arkansas Walk of Fame in Hot Springs. I’ve heard the stories of his many noteworthy accomplishments in the fishing industry. In the early 1980’s, my high school GCE teacher, Mr. Jerry James, took my class on a field trip to tour Ranger Boats, the company Mr. Wood founded and operated for many years. Last summer, while on vacation approximately 665 miles from home, I had lunch at a restaurant on the shores of Lake Pepin in the tiny village of Pepin, Wisconsin. While chatting casually with a couple who had boated in that day to eat at the little restaurant, I spotted the man’s Ranger Boats ball cap. When he found out I was from Arkansas, he asked if I knew Forrest Wood.  It was fun to feel that connection to home from all those miles away, to smile with pride at the mention of one of Arkansas’ own.

Forrest L. Wood, a native of Flippin, Arkansas, achieved worldwide fame as the Father of the Modern Bass Boat. Most anyone in the fishing industry readily recognizes his name. According to the Encyclopedia of Arkansas, Mr. Wood began building boats in 1968 in the back of a filling station. That was the beginning of Ranger Boats, a successful business he owned and operated with his wife, Nina until 1987. More recently, Mr. Wood played a vital role in the development of an exciting new boat company, Vexus Boats, again in his hometown of Flippin.

In the late 1990’s, Mr. Wood was appointed to the Arkansas Game and Fish Commission by (then) Governor Mike Huckabee. A legend in the sports fishing industry, Mr. Wood received numerous accolades and honors in his lifetime including (to name only a few) – induction into the Arkansas Business Hall of Fame and the Arkansas Sports Hall of Fame, the Lifetime Achievement Award from the Sportfishing Association of America, the Lifetime Achievement Award from the BASS Federation, and the Arkansas Outdoor Hall of Fame Legacy Award. The FLW Tournament was named in his honor. The list truly goes on and on and on…

The state of Arkansas lost an iconic legend last Saturday when he passed away at the age of 87. The news spread quickly on social media. Posts began popping up on Facebook, Twitter, and Internet news, as many friends, family members, and fans paused their busy days to stop and pay tribute to a gentleman they admired greatly. Reading through those tributes and personal stories shared this week, the true success of this legendary giant is realized.  My eyes have teared up more than once.  Here is just one example: (Please read it – it’s definitely worth your time.)

Success comes in many different forms. For some, it means material wealth, widespread fame, the achievement of goals and dreams, and a legacy that continues long after you are gone from this earth. Mr. Wood achieved all of these in his lifetime – but reading through the many tributes shared this week – it is readily apparent that he achieved much, much more. I was taught that the true success of a person is told by their character. By all evidence, Mr. Wood’s character, faith, integrity, and work ethic are his most impressive and enduring legacies. His life, a life well-lived, should be a role model for many.

He truly was a success.

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Always a Tiger

I was only eleven years old the very first time I stepped onto the campuses of Green Forest Schools. It was the fall of 1978, and I was beginning my sixth grade year…Being at a new school was scary, but I quickly made dear friends and settled in happily…

Fast forward four decades –

A week and a half ago, I finished my last day as Federal Programs Coordinator and Director of Instruction for the Green Forest School District – leaving that position to pursue another opportunity. I walked through every hall and down every sidewalk that last day with the district. My goodness! There are so many memories on every corner.

I went into the high school on the old junior high side of the building. (That’s the north side – for those of you too young to remember!) Years ago, we used to have a Pepsi machine in the hall outside the principal’s office. I don’t remember the price (maybe a dime?) – but as a student if you hurried between classes you could stop just outside the principal, Mr. Allison’s office and purchase a pop. You would put in your money and a paper cup slid down and filled with slightly cooled soda – which you had to gulp quickly to finish and get to class before the tardy bell rang. I thought it was quite a privilege!

I had to smile as I walked down that old hall. Regardless of who occupies the rooms today, for me, the classrooms at the bottom of the stairs will always be Mrs. James’ (on the left) and Mr. Fancher’s (on the right). Mrs. Taunton’s library was at the end of the hall back then. High school room 120 will always be Mr. Rose’s room in my mind. I spent four years in that room learning algebra and geometry from him. My friend, Jonie Standlee, served as high school counselor for all the years I worked for the district – but to be honest (sorry, Jonie!) she was really hanging out in my high school counselor, Mrs. Sturtz’ office all that time. Teachers, classmates, friends – everywhere I looked, I saw memories of so many special people.

Mrs. Fultz’ Home Ec. building and Mr. James’ GCE building have been moved. One is still used as classroom space – the other simply now serves as a storage building…

I fell asleep in Mr. James’ class one day – but only once! Always a jokester, he allowed my classmates to pile little broken pieces of chalk on my ear until I woke up and the pieces crashed to the floor. Lesson learned – it was the last time I fell asleep in class and I am smiling now at the memory.

Our “Class of 1985” picture is displayed on the wall just outside the teachers’ workroom. Our Senior Monument is on display outside the “Old Gym” where we survived nearly terrifying (but exciting!) dodgeball games in Mrs. Hodges’ P.E. classes.

The building we called the “new gym” when I was in school is now the “Grim Gym” in honor of Coach Fred Grim. I remember when Shane Compton played ball for Coach Grim back in the day. Now Shane is walking in Coach Grim’s footsteps, serving as boys’ basketball coach for the district.

My classmates and I graduated high school in that gym 34 years ago. Ten precious members of my family were sitting in the second row, on the floor, to the right, proudly watching me graduate. If I close my eyes I can see them sitting there. In many ways, that seems like only yesterday…..but I open my eyes knowing that four of those ten loved ones are gone now….

I headed toward elementary down the same sidewalk I walked daily as a sixth grader – our class in a straight line following Mr. George Wheeler, our teacher, to lunch. The old sidewalk isn’t used as much anymore. Back in the day, they would bus us to the cafeteria whenever it rained. Today, there is a nice covered sidewalk for students to use that follows an even shorter path.

Our old sixth grade classroom has now been remodeled into offices for the principal and the nurse, but I remember how it looked back then. Mr. Wheeler had a polished wood and glass display case in the back of the classroom with all sorts of insects and plants and rocks he had collected. He even had his tonsils preserved in a jar – displayed for all of us to see. I remember being both grossed out and fascinated.

I walked across the playground where I once met Festus Hagen (Ken Curtis). That was my first year at Green Forest, and I was so excited that a big celebrity was at our school. I knew this had to be a very cool place if a Gunsmoke actor visited! I mean really!!!

The tetherballs and basketball courts where we played back then are gone now – a building addition stands in their place – but I remember how it looked. I remember it all – both the faces and the places.

I consider it a very great honor to have had the opportunity to go back and work for my alma mater. It was truly a privilege – and one I will forever cherish.

Thank you, Green Forest Schools. Always a Tiger.

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Finding Joy in the Challenges

This afternoon, I left my office for a routine walk across campus to the elementary building. It was swelteringly hot and humid as I stepped outside, and my mind was crowded thinking about all that I needed to accomplish before the day ended. Passing the cafeteria, I headed down the sidewalk past the fenced-in playground filled with noisy, busy, happy third graders. They were climbing the jungle gym, swinging on the swings, and just having fun. As I typically do, I slowed my pace and smiled inwardly as I watched the students run and play. Just on the other side of the chainlink fence, a little boy stood beneath a tall tree, rubber ball in hand, smiling and intently looking up at the branches overhead. He took a breath, aimed carefully, and threw the ball in the air trying to throw it over the branch above him. He wasn’t successful. The ball hit a higher branch and bounced back over his head. He raced to catch it and chuckled softly as he jogged quickly back to his spot under the tree. Standing all alone and smiling expectantly, he planted his feet, took careful aim, and threw the ball again…..only to fall short once more. This time the ball missed the branch entirely, sailing underneath it and hitting the ground, then rolling further away. Laughing, he ran to pick it up and try once again. I walked on, needing to complete my errand but wishing I could stay longer to watch. When I headed back a few minutes later, I was happy to see this same child still trying to learn how to throw the ball just high enough (but not too high) to navigate successfully through those tree branches. He was still smiling and still working hard to get it right. His face shone with perspiration, enthusiasm, determination, and hope.

As I walked past him again and headed back to my office, I felt inspired by his attitude. He was faithfully working to complete a task – to practice a skill he had not yet mastered – to get better and achieve a goal. It was difficult for him – and yet he was excited. He was expecting to eventually get it right – to master the skill. He didn’t mind the failed attempts. For him, they were an enjoyable part of the process. He didn’t have to learn this task – he wanted to. He was genuinely excited and thoroughly enjoying the effort. Perhaps there is a lesson there for all of us.

Our jobs can be quite hectic at times and the demands can often be great. As we all know, life has many challenges for each of us every single day. What if we faced our tasks with that same attitude? What if we squared our shoulders, planted our feet, took a breath and tried our best – then actually smiled when things didn’t go as we had planned? What if we had the courage to laugh when we missed the mark – running to pick things up and try again? What if we saw each effort as one step closer to perhaps this time getting it right? What if we truly found joy in the process?

Wow! What a great attitude! Thank you, young man. I admire your approach! From now on, I am going to try to copy your example.

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Perspective Matters

Perspective Matters

Finding the Beauty Around You!

Philippians 4:8

New International Version (NIV)

8 Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy — think about such things.

Perspective is a choice. Our attitudes, opinions, and points of view are built over time. The things we choose to place emphasis on directly impact our outlook.

For example, one of my hobbies is photography. I dearly love to find interesting and beautiful things to photograph and share with others. Whether I’m driving my car, taking a walk, or simply sitting on my patio, it is my habit to almost constantly search for great setups for pictures. I so enjoy seeing beauty and capturing it to share.

Yesterday afternoon was rainy in the Missouri Ozarks. During the late afternoon/early evening, the rain stopped and the skies cleared. The colors in the sky were spectacular, and I drove to a lake outside of town to take a few pictures as the sun sank behind the Ozark Mountains. Sunsets happen so quickly – and I was rushing to try to get a few good shots. The skies over the water were truly breathtaking, and I marveled at the beauty. When I got home, I eagerly looked through the pictures I had taken and was a little disappointed to see some of the beautiful scenes interrupted by multiple power lines I hadn’t even noticed when setting up the shots. As I said, I had been in a hurry and with all of the amazing beauty I simply had not seen the power lines until I got home. The pictures highlighted what I hadn’t even noticed – because I was so focused on the beauty around me.

I’ve heard that there are two sides to every story, and I definitely agree. We each view the world and even our daily events through our own lens (built over time by our backgrounds, our priorities, our choices, and our experiences) – and sometimes the interpretations and outcomes are amazingly different. It’s a little bit like the old “Gossip” game that has been played in classrooms and other group gatherings for years. Do you remember? Everyone stands in a circle and the leader whispers a made up “secret” into someone’s ear. That person then whispers it to the next, and the next person passes it on. The whispered secret travels quietly around the entire circle, one person at a time. The last person has to state out loud to everyone what the secret is – and it is always fun to see how the sentence has completely changed as it goes around the group.

Different interpretations of real-life situations happen as well. I remember a time several years ago when I was having lunch with a friend after church. We both mentioned that we had enjoyed the pastor’s sermon that morning and started discussing the points he had made. That’s when we realized we had each sat in the same church service but had somehow heard very different messages. Neither were incorrect – but our interpretations and personalizations of the message were very, very unique. PERSPECTIVE makes the difference!

Finding the positives, the beauty, can sometimes be difficult. When I took the pictures displayed at the top of this post, I was so delighted by the beautiful colors in the sunset blending with the brilliant red roses. I was absolutely thrilled with those shots, and I eagerly posted them for my Facebook friends to see. I laughed out loud when one friend, Vicki, asked if I had laid down on the ground to get a shot from that angle. To tell the truth, she was almost correct! (Good eye, Vicki!) I had knelt down on my knees, low on the pavement and took about 12-15 different shots before I found the angle that worked for me. I’m sure I must have looked so silly to passers by…..but I worked diligently to find the most beautiful vantage point.

Walking by at a normal viewpoint, this is that exact same spot. Go back to the second picture above. You can see this crosswalk sign behind the roses.

Finding the beauty is a challenge I strive for every day. It’s always there. Changing your perspective can change your life! Truthfully, sometimes you have to get down to look up. Sometimes you have to focus on one thing when many distractions are buzzing around you. Sometimes you even have to be willing to be a little silly!

Do the work!

It is well worth it.

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Decoration Days – Honoring Our Roots

In the American South, springtime means jonquils, hyacinths, lilacs, and roses; baby birds hatching, frogs croaking on the ponds, gardens being planted, Easter Sunrise Services, and Decoration Days at community cemeteries. Decoration Days have always been a part of my life. As a little girl, I would go to the cemetery with my Daddy the day before a Decoration Day. He would rake and clean the graves and then carry in soil to shovel and build them up. When he finished, each one would be raked free of grass, mounded up with fresh dirt, and carefully smoothed. Gravestones would be washed and gleaming and bright flower arrangements would be placed to adorn the headstones or the grave itself. It was hot work, but there were always others present carefully tending the graves of their own families, so it was a bit of a community social event as everyone worked to prepare the cemetery. It always looked so pretty when we left – everything mowed, and raked, and clean, and beautiful with flowers of all colors and shapes.

The next day (always a Sunday), we would go back after church, this time dressed up in our Sunday best. There was always a crowd – old friends, family members, and schoolmates my parents hadn’t seen since the last Decoration Day the year before. People traveled home from other towns and even other states. Everyone would walk around and look at the different graves, remembering those who were buried there and telling stories about the old days. Children would play (quietly – and outside the cemetery fence because it wasn’t respectful to run and play around the graves) and adults would eventually gather under the trees where the shade helped cool things down a bit. They would continue to talk and reminisce – and I always loved to listen to the stories they told and people they remembered.

There would be a short “Decoration Day” church service at 2:00. Some of the people gathered would go inside to attend and others would stay outdoors laughing and telling stories. I always heard that “back in the day” (before my time) there would be a potluck – a “dinner on the ground” where everyone brought food to share and picnic together. I’m sure people who were not raised with this tradition could think it strange to hold an annual community/family reunion in a cemetery – but to me it is a perfectly natural thing to do. After all, I was raised with it – and I think it’s a lovely tradition that celebrates our heritage….our roots.

I say often that we all stand on the shoulders of the people who came before us – and I mean that sincerely. Without the hard work and innovations of others from years past, we would not have our many modern conveniences and practices. Without them, we would not be able to live the lives we are living or accomplish the things that we do. Because of that, I love the days when I am able to pause, take some time, and look back at those who came before, learn from the memories and stories of others, and honor family members and friends who have left us.

The old tradition still continues. Today I traveled south with my mother to attend the Decoration Day at the cemetery where my Daddy is buried. Unlike those days in the past, we did not arrive a day early to clean and prepare the grave. The tradition of bringing in dirt to “mound up” the graves is gone. (It makes it so much harder for caretakers to mow that way.) Instead, we went out early this morning to clean and decorate the grave, then left to freshen up, have lunch, and return to visit with old friends and family. I still look forward to it every year. There are still so many stories to hear and so many wonderful memories to revisit.

I walked around the cemetery this afternoon admiring the flower arrangements and studying the names on the headstones. The ground was soft and uneven making walking slightly difficult, and the weather was hot and humid. Even more important, you have to carefully watch where you step to avoid the numerous small, almost hidden mounds of fire ants. Still, it’s pleasant to take time to pay respect and remember. Every year, I think about counting how many family members I have buried in that old cemetery. I always start this task and somehow never seem to finish. Today I counted 46 relatives and many more old neighbors or friends. I didn’t cover the entire cemetery so there are undoubtedly several I missed. Perhaps next year! I am who I am partly because of these people (even the ancestors I have never met), and I am grateful that I can take the time to honor them.

As I said earlier, Decoration Days may seem silly or strange to some, and I can understand that……but I am so thankful for this connection to my roots. This wonderful tradition links me to my past, strengthens bonds of family and friends here today, and impacts the future because of the firm foundations it provides.

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208 Steps

I put on my shoes and went out for a short walk a few minutes ago – because I wanted to measure the steps from my front door to a redbud tree just down the street. Carefully counted, there were exactly 208…..

When I was a little girl, I always knew that my birthday was coming soon when I saw the spring flowers – especially jonquils, in bloom. (We called them “Easter Flowers”.) Those bright yellow blossoms made me happy back then – and they still do. I love spring and all of its beauty….jonquils, lilacs, hyacinths, dogwoods, and redbuds. It is such a beautiful time of year! Anyone who knows me well knows that I love taking pictures – in fact they might tell you that’s an understatement! Nevertheless, in the spring I am always looking for pretty scenes or bright blossoms to photograph and share with others. It has been a hobby of mine for a long time.

This year is no exception. As I drive to and from work each day, I am eagerly searching for pretty places to stop and shoot a few pictures. I dearly love sharing beautiful or useful or enjoyable things with others. (Possibly whether they want to see them or not! I am sometimes probably too enthusiastic!)

About a week ago one of my neighbors, Sharon, messaged me and told me that there was a beautiful redbud tree she wanted me to see. She thought perhaps I might like to photograph it. I was delighted that she wanted to share the information with me, but I was very busy and didn’t have time to pay attention to the tree for a couple of days. The Ozarks are heavy with redbuds this time of year, and the landscapes are cheerful with their color. In fact, I had already taken several pictures of redbuds this spring,and I didn’t really expect this tree to be all THAT much different. I was very definitely wrong!

I finally decided to check it out one afternoon. Camera phone in hand, I started down the sidewalk. I didn’t get far before I saw a house painter sitting on an overturned bucket eating lunch in the shade of the redbud. As I walked on down the sidewalk, I was studying the tree and trying to decide what made it seem special to Sharon. Was it the shape? No, that couldn’t be it. The shape was nice – but really nothing out of the ordinary. Was it the height? I decided that probably wasn’t it either. This tree was really not any bigger than most of the other redbuds I see. Was it the color? Maybe that was it…maybe….this tree did perhaps seem a little bit brighter than most. I wasn’t really sure. As I got closer, the man eating his lunch put down his sandwich and looked at me questioningly. I smiled and told him that I was sorry to interrupt his break – that I was just there to take a few pictures of the redbud tree. He smiled and said, “Yeah, I took some pictures of it too. I’ve never seen anything like it before!”

That’s when I first noticed the trunks of the tree. They were covered in brightly colored shoots – little clusters of blooms all along the trunks and branches. It was breathtaking! I had truly never seen anything like it! I then became excited, trying to decide the best angle to photograph the beauty of this unique tree. The sun was bright, which made the lighting a little difficult. I liked the challenge, though. I was so happy to have a chance to shoot the beautiful pictures. I enjoyed every minute! That night, I had fun going through the (MANY!) different shots to select which ones I wanted to share. I was so grateful to Sharon for calling the tree to my attention. It is literally only 208 steps from my front door. (Remember, I counted!) I had already seen the tree several times this spring. It is just down the sidewalk from my house! I never noticed how unique and beautiful it was though. It was a redbud tree – and I expected it to look like a typical redbud – so even though my eyes saw it every day…I didn’t truly see it. I didn’t take the time to stop and really notice the obvious and unique beauty.

I have thought about that several times since. It makes me wonder what else I am missing – in the landscapes around me, but also in the people I encounter and the opportunities available to me every day. From now on, I am really going to try harder to see and appreciate them. I don’t want to miss the good things. I am delighted to think about what I may find.

I really hope you enjoy the pictures. I am excited to share them.

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Was it a Good Day, or Was it a Bad Day?

Actually, that day in 2003 started out as a pretty normal day. I was at home in my apartment in Springfield, Missouri. I got up that morning, had breakfast and visited with my Mother by phone. She and Daddy were planning on going to Harrison to run some errands and they were looking forward to a nice day out. Mother loved to shop, and Daddy wanted to stop by and visit his friend, Bob Myers. Daddy and Bob had been friends for years, and whenever Daddy was in Harrison he liked to stop by Tom-Bar, Inc., Bob’s business on Industrial Park Road, to say hello and catch up a bit.

Mother and Daddy were going to invite an older friend to go with them. They wanted to give her a chance to get out of the house and let her get her grocery shopping done. I had been searching for a new table lamp for my living room, and Mother mentioned that she would look to see if she could find one that fit what I was wanting. She has always loved to shop!

Daddy wasn’t much of a shopper at all, but he did like to get out and about. He enjoyed people. Since his early retirement due to his Parkinson’s disease, these days were good for him. He liked driving his truck and getting out of the house. He had gotten that truck second hand from his brother, my uncle Jerry. It was a nice one, and we all enjoyed it. In fact, when I was home, I would often ask Daddy if I could drive his truck up to Sonic to get a Coke. It was pretty sharp… and also a fun truck to drive, so I know Daddy was looking forward to a pleasant afternoon.

It looked as if was going to be a good day for all.

Just before lunch, my cell phone rang. Mother called to tell me about a lamp she had found. She was excited – she thought it was exactly what I was wanting. She said it was a tall, narrow table lamp with an antique brushed gold colored finish. It sounded perfect. I told her to buy it and I would give it a try. I was happy she had found something and so was she. She loves to help! In fact, she would make a great personal shopper!

After lunch, I was doing some computer work when my cell phone rang. I looked at the number and smiled when I saw the name “Mother” displayed on the screen. I wondered if she had found another lamp she liked better – or if this was perhaps going to be a call about a good buy she had found on a package of ground round or a 5# bag of potatoes, wondering if I might want one also. Pushing away from my desk and leaning back in my office chair to relax, take a break, and visit a bit, I flipped open my phone. Everything changed instantly when I heard a strange voice say, “Is this the daughter of John and Jean Carlon?” Jerking up in my chair, I quickly replied “Yes, what’s wrong?” The strange voice continued, “They are all right, but they’ve been in a pretty bad wreck. Your mom is hurt worse but she is awake and talking. Your dad seems to be okay. They are taking your mom and the older lady that was with them to the hospital by ambulance. The older lady seems all right – just shook up. This is Bob Myer’s daughter, Laurie. I will stay with them until you get here. I’ll keep your mom’s phone if you need to call me.”

I hung up in shock – rushing to grab my purse and put on my shoes so I could get out the door and on my way to Harrison. I’m typically pretty calm – but this hit me hard. I called my friend Kay and asked if she could ride to Arkansas with me NOW. She was wonderful – waiting outside when I drove in to pick her up. We headed for Harrison – an hour and a half away. The thing I kept thinking about was that Mother hadn’t talked to me. Since I was a little girl, she has always worked so hard to reassure and protect me. I knew absolutely that she would have asked to call me and let me know she was okay if she could at all. It would be one of her priorities. She hadn’t called.

We got to the Harrison hospital emergency room as quickly as possible and I saw Daddy sitting in the waiting room. Laurie Myers was there also, as she said she would be. She handed me Mother’s phone and purse and updated me on all that she knew. She gave me her phone number on a piece of paper and told me to call if I she could be of any more help – then she said goodbye to my dad and left. My strong, quiet, kind father was sitting in that waiting room looking so shaken and lost. The physical and emotional trauma of the accident, coupled with the fact that he had now missed a dose of his Parkinson’s medicine, had left him unable to walk or talk well. Without his medicine, his body would just sort of lock up and his voice would reduce to barely a whisper. I hugged him and asked him if he was okay. He assured me he was and whispered urgently, “Go check on Mama.” I headed for the emergency room.

Mother was definitely hurt. Her knee had hit the dash hard and broken the truck’s stereo completely in half. The knee was badly injured, and her leg was gashed so deeply it was alarming to see. She was struggling a bit to breath due to the pain of multiple broken ribs, but she smiled when she saw me. Even though her eyes definitely showed she was in pain they were bright and clear. I instantly felt reassured.

The lady with them was also glad to see me. She was lying alone in the emergency room bay, and she looked relieved when I walked in. Her injuries were not as severe. Mother was definitely the one hurt the most. The doctor discussed the details and assured me that she would be fine – it would just take time for her injuries to heal. I was so grateful.

Mother and Daddy’s pastors, Mark and Joanna Bryant had arrived at the hospital before me. They had stayed until I got there and had prayed for Mother in the ER. When I arrived, they said they were going to check on Daddy’s truck – that Mother had mentioned that she had bought a lot of groceries that day. I will never forget the Bryant’s kindness. They somehow found the lot where the truck had been towed and gathered up all the spilled groceries and other items (including my new lamp) from Mother’s shopping. They came back by the hospital to tell me they had retrieved them, and would take them back to the church so the groceries could be kept in the refrigerator until we could pick them up.

The wreck, it turned out, really was a pretty bad one. Daddy was driving west on Industrial Park Road in Harrison. Mother was sitting on the middle seat, which was set a little higher than the main bucket seats. Their friend was sitting in the bucket seat to the right. As Daddy went through the intersection of Industrial Park Road and Speer Drive, a car driving south on Speer Drive was traveling fast and ran the stop light, hitting Daddy’s truck on the front driver’s side and knocking Daddy unconscious. The hard impact turned the truck to the right, headed straight toward Vikki Hudson’s Insurance Agency. Crossing the intersection diagonally, the truck headed over a brick retaining wall and crashed down onto the parking lot below. Still moving forward, they were headed straight toward the corner of the insurance company’s brick building. Despite her injuries, Mother half stood and got her leg over Daddy’s to slam on the break and stop the truck. They were just a few inches from hitting the building head on.

I stayed at the hospital until Mother and her friend were settled into a room and as comfortable as possible for the night. They were exhausted but smiling when I left – and I felt comforted knowing they were in a room together. I took Daddy, now completely exhausted, home to get his medicine and get some rest. When I laid down that night, I finally let myself relax and think everything through. I thought about how pleasantly the day had started and about the phone call from a strange voice that abruptly changed everything. I thought about Laurie Myers Mayfield giving up her time to stay at the hospital until I arrived. Even though I had never before met her personally, I felt comforted knowing she was there with my parents and would call me if the doctors needed to speak to me or if anything happened I needed to know about. She was my lifeline that day, and I will never forget her kindness. I thought about Mark and Joanna Bryant who dropped everything and rushed to the hospital when they heard about the wreck. I thought about them going to the trouble of locating Daddy’s truck and working patiently to gather all of the items from the day’s shopping and keep them safe for Mother. They didn’t have to do that – but it meant so much that they did. I thought about the EMT’s, police, and others who worked the wreck that afternoon, caring for my parents and getting them the help they needed. I thought about Kay who rushed to be with me at the hospital and had been there to help in any way she could. Lastly and definitely most of all, I thought about the fact that my Daddy was safe at home resting and that my Mother was safe, and stable in the hospital – her body already beginning the slow process of healing so that she could come home.

The lamp Mother bought that day was slightly bent in the wreck, but the damage is difficult to see unless you examine it closely. I did keep it. In fact, it still sits in my living room today. When I look at it, I often remember that day 16 years ago.

As it turned out, that day was a very good day.