Category: Memories

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Glimpses of Excellence – Efforts Truly Matter

plant

Photo memories on my phone came up tonight – reminding me that two years ago was such an incredibly special evening. I thought I would tell you about it….because it is a dear and treasured memory for me….and because it displays a glimpse of excellence that I will explain.

Exactly two years ago this evening, my mother was living in a beautiful little apartment at an assisted living facility. She had only been there a couple of months, but she had already made many friends – including her three table mates in the dining room. Each resident had an assigned seat – and Mother had formed fast friendships with the folks at her table. She enjoyed visiting with them, but she also focused on listening to them and supporting them however she could. As her disease progressed, it became harder for her to walk to the dining area – and so she began eating in her room. She missed her friends and often wondered how they were doing.

Two years ago tonight, one of the nurses – a precious young woman named Victoria, organized a little dinner party. All of the people working there were so busy, but Victoria and some of the other wonderful caregivers found time to bring down tables and chairs to Mother’s apartment. They even had flowers and cheesecake and a little plant to give her as a gift. After setting up the room, they then delivered four carefully prepared meals from the kitchen – and Mother and her three table mates ate together happily in her room that evening. While they were eating and laughing and teasing and talking and catching up – I sat in the other room and just listened. I listened to the happy sounds and was filled with such joy and appreciation for all of the effort. They truly sounded like teenagers!

plant

After they were gone, Mother chattered happily for quite a while – excited about the evening.

It may not seem like a lot (actually it does!) – carrying down tables….and chairs….and getting flowers….and cheesecake….and food….while serving everyone else and making sure all residents’ needs were attended to…

In fact, it was a lot – a lot of work, a lot of effort, and a lot of care. It was definitely going above and beyond….it was a true glimpse of excellence.

When the pictures came up in the photo memories on my phone tonight – I sat and smiled thinking back on that wonderful evening.

It is a precious, treasured memory – and I am forever grateful to each person who had a part in making it happen.

Efforts truly matter.

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The Check Story

When I was a little girl, folks didn’t carry checkbooks in Conway County, AR – because there was simply no need. Businesses had “counter checks” – checks with no individual account numbers printed on them – available by the register at every business. Customers just took a counter check, filled it out as we do any check, signed their name and paid their bill. It was a far simpler time – when trust was something valued and respected. Things were different than they are today…

In first grade, I rode the school bus from Hattieville, AR to Wonderview, AR – around 8 – 10 miles one way. With all the stops, it took a while to get to and from school. On the way home in the afternoons, the bus had to turn off the highway to drop off some kids down a dirt road that ran beside Beeson’s Grocery – my Great-Uncle O.V.’s little country store…….that his dad (my great-granddad) bought around the turn of the 20th century and ran until his death.

Any of we kids that wanted to were allowed to get off the bus and wait at the store until the bus got back. (Let me restate – much simpler, more trusting times.) If we were lucky, we had some change in our pockets and we could buy something at the store – a Coca-Cola, a candy bar, or my favorite – a frozen orange sherbet push-up. If we were without any cash, we could just run around and play outside until we had to climb back onto the bus. It was a MUCH better day when we had some pocket change! 🙂

One day, Miss Betty (my first grade teacher) taught all of us about writing checks. To this day, I’m really not certain WHY we were taught that in the first grade, but I remember how much fun it was to write them on those blank practice checks she had. We felt like big stuff!

Application of new knowledge is always important – and I was ready to put mine into place that afternoon when we clambered off the bus. I walked into my Uncle O.V’s store and picked up a bag of nacho cheese Doritos, a Coca-Cola, some peanuts, a box of candy cigarettes, a Snickers bar, and best of all – an orange sherbet push-up. I piled all of my treasures on the counter in front of O.V. He watched me quietly and calmly as I picked up a counter check, filled it out as I had been taught, signed my first name “LISA” in large block letters, and looked to him for the total. Grinning very slightly, he rang everything up and gave me the amount. I finished the check carefully and handed it to him – and he handed me my bag of goodies.

I left the store SO excited to tell Mother what I had learned that day.  We could have ANYTHING WE WANTED – ANYWHERE – as long as they had counter checks available!  It was like winning the lottery!!!  I thought I had discovered the Promised Land!  I smiled all the way home and got off the bus with the plastic push-up stick still in my mouth – happily carrying my bag of precious loot.

When Mother heard my story, she did not have the great enthusiasm and joy I had eagerly anticipated. She explained to me that in order to WRITE checks – you first had to put MONEY in the bank. What a crushing disappointment! She then further dashed my hopes by telling me that we had to take all of those precious items in my sack back to O.V. and pay him for the push-up I had enjoyed on my bus ride home.

When we got back to the store, O.V. was chuckling and insisted that I keep all of my dishonestly purchased items. He tacked that check up on the wall behind the register and kept it there proudly for a long, long time. I loved it – and I loved him. I have never forgotten how kind he was that day – how kind he always was to me – and what a wonderful man he was. I loved him dearly – and I miss him very much. An ex-Marine, he was generous, tough, soft-hearted, quiet, kind, hardworking, and just an overall great man.

Thank you, O.V.

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Beeson’s Grocery

Beeson's Grocery

For the first nine years of my life, I lived in the wonderful, cozy little community of Hattieville, Arkansas. Long before my time, Hattieville had boasted several businesses including a hotel, a school, a blacksmith shop, a livery, and more. However, when I was born in late ’60’s, the Hattieville I knew consisted of churches, a wonderful community building (the old school), the ball field, a post office…..and Beeson’s Grocery.

Beeson's Grocery

Much like the “Whistle Stop Cafe” in the old movie “Fried Green Tomatoes”, Beeson’s Grocery has been in many ways the heart of the town for over 100 years. The proud general store opened in 1892 and was purchased by my great-grandfather, Oscar Virgil Beeson a few years later. My great-granddad also purchased the house that sits beside the store, and made it his home. The adjoining properties became a treasured gathering place for family and friends through the years.

In the spring of 1951, while tending his garden located behind the store, my great-granddad suffered a heart attack and passed away – shocking his family and the community with the loss. From every story I have ever heard about him, he was a kind, intelligent, strong, and caring man. My Daddy and his brothers have told me many wonderful tales about their granddad – and I am grateful for those memories they shared with me…and honored to be his great-granddaughter. I know his death left a hole in the family.

Oscar Virgil Beeson, Sr.

But Beeson’s Grocery continued on…

His only son, Oscar Virgil “O.V.” Beeson, Jr., a former Marine, and his wife Bernie, a school teacher, settled into Hattieville to keep the family business alive. When I was a little girl growing up, going to the store was what you did in Hattieville. There was always someone to see and visit with….kids to play with….Coca-Colas out of the ice-cold chest cooler to drink, bologna or salami sandwiches to eat…and great stories to hear and enjoy. Like his father, O.V. was a kind and caring man. I’ve told the story before about the time when, as a first grader, I wrote a hot check at Beeson’s Grocery and loaded up on all kinds of treats. It’s pretty funny. Click here if you’re interested in that one. My uncle O.V. was a good man, and I loved him dearly.

Oscar Virgil "OV" Beeson, Jr.

When O.V. retired, his daughter Nicki Jean took over operations and ran the store for almost 30 years. Her sharp wit and fun personality brought even more charm and enjoyment to the grand old store.

Nicki Jean Beeson Mourot

The old wood stove near the back of the store was a place to pull up a chair and visit, eat a bite, or just sit and relax. It was warm and welcoming and homey and wonderful. For me, it was also special to know that family members I love, as well as many family members I never had the privilege of meeting because they were gone before I was born – had shopped and visited and laughed and eaten and gathered in that old store.

Beeson's Grocery

When I was nine, my parents and I moved away from Hattieville to northwest Arkansas because Daddy had gotten a new job. We always went back home to Hattieville several times a year to see family and friends, and sit at the store and visit…because even though it was a place to buy gas and groceries and sandwiches and snacks and supplies…it was actually so much more. It was a place that connected so many…a place that lingered pleasantly in the minds of anyone who has ever visited Hattieville…the place, in fact, that most people picture when the name Hattieville is mentioned.

When my cousin Nicki retired almost two years ago, the store was sold to new owners, Mike and LaDonna Bicanovsky who enthusiastically worked to expand and update the business to preserve the legacy and tradition of the store.

Beeson's Grocery

However, sometimes good things do come to an end.

Yesterday, I made the familiar drive to Hattieville to see Beeson’s Grocery one more time – because for the first time in over 100 years it has closed its doors. For me, it is a very painful loss….and I am hoping that someone will purchase the business and reopen it once more. For now though, this historic building sits silent and alone.

Famed poet Maya Angelou once said in an interview that spoken words are significant ….they have power and impact….and once they are spoken they “stick forever in the walls” .  I love that.  

The old walls at Beeson’s Grocery are full of so many rich stories and laughter and learning and love.   I am so grateful that I got to be a tiny thread in the beautiful tapestry of vast memories it holds.

Beeson's Grocery
Miss Bernie
Beeson's Grocery
Beeson's Grocery
Beeson's Grocery
Beeson's Grocery
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What Kind of Ripples Are We Making?

I was raised to be kind to others….not just to “be nice” when someone talked to me….but to care….to watch others in order to see when someone needed a kind word, or assistance, or encouragement. My parents showed me by example that we should help other people out whenever we can….and I saw each of them do this over and over and over again throughout my life…. They provided me with such valuable lessons, and I am forever grateful.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

I don’t drive down highway 76 through Branson West, Missouri all that often….maybe a dozen times a year or so…..but every time I do I am cheered and encouraged when I drive past this Taco Bell.

In fact, believe it or not, I usually smile inwardly and actually feel comforted when I see it.

I know this sounds strange. It has nothing to do with Mexican Pizzas, or burritos, or nachos…. Let me explain…

When my Daddy’s Parkinson disease required him to enter a long-term care facility in Kimberling City at a much-too-young age, for several years (until he passed away) my Mother drove the 50-mile round trip to see him every day. (Every single day!) Daddy’s mind was as sharp as always, and his body was very strong – but his balance and coordination suffered greatly. After several incredibly hard, dangerous falls (with no broken bones ever, thank God!), it was time for some much-needed help.

We were very blessed that he was placed in a private room – and he and Mother would spend the days there together.

Each week, for a change of pace, they would load up in Mother’s van and go riding around for a while or go out to get a bite to eat. One of the places they loved going regularly – was the Taco Bell in Branson West. Going out wasn’t easy! The staff at the care facility would help Daddy get out of his room and safely into the van – but of course, once they left on these driving excursion adventures – they were on their own….

…but not really. Because there are kind and caring people everywhere – people who have learned to watch others in order to see when someone needs a kind word, or assistance, or encouragement….people who are bold enough to step in and take action to help. (This is still true today!)

When Mother and Daddy started going to the Branson West Taco Bell, she would get out and help him walk in – and they would enjoy their meal out together. It was their “date” day! On days when his balance was pretty good, not a lot of assistance was needed…..but as it got worse it became harder for one person alone to assist him.

Then one afternoon as I was driving home from work, Mother called me – excited to tell me about the day. They had gone to Taco Bell as usual, and the staff who had seen them come in each week went above and beyond. Mother said before she could get the van parked and get out to go around and help Daddy – two of the young Taco Bell employees were at his door, smiling and telling him that they would walk in with him. Daddy walked in safely with an employee on each arm – and my parents enjoyed their meal together.

After that, almost every time they pulled up at Taco Bell, employees hurried out to the parking lot to assist them.

It brought Mother and Daddy such joy. It made them feel cared about. It provided Mother with some caregiver relief. It allowed my very social father to make new friends. It was a wonderful, observant, caring act of compassion.

And now – almost 15 years later – the memory of all of those folks and their active compassion continues to cheer, encourage, and inspire me even today. The ripples of kindness that they showed over a decade ago are still active.

It makes me wonder- to stop and evaluate – what do I do each and every day to help those around me? What do I do to see the needs, to listen, to encourage, to support?

What kind of ripples am I making?

They last a lot longer than we can ever know. I want to be sure I leave good ones behind in my wake.

For a narrated version of this story – click below.

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Wayland Holyfield

When I was a child in Mrs. Swofford’s 4th grade classroom, we learned about Arkansas.  I absolutely loved studying and learning about my state.  We explored the history of Arkansas, the development of the state, and also worked to memorize the symbols that identify it. 

For example:

state flower – apple blossom

state bird – mockingbird

state gem – diamond

state grain – rice

state musical instrument – fiddle

state rock – bauxite 

The state song at the time, I believe, was a song called Arkansas – written in 1916 by Eva Ware Barnett.  In 1987, however, this song was elevated to “state anthem” and a new official state song was adopted.

“Arkansas, You Run Deep in Me” was written by Wayland Holyfield.  I loved it the very first time I heard it – and in fact, it still touches my heart every single time it plays.  If I put together a bulleted list of things about Arkansas to be celebrated,  they would pretty much all be included in this song and video.

I can remember when AETN, the Arkansas PBS station, would sign off every evening at midnight with a video rendition of this song – and if I were awake I would usually turn over the channel to watch it.  

The song’s composer, Wayland Holyfield,  was born in Conway County Arkansas, in 1942.  In 1972, he left Arkansas and moved to Nashville – with a dream of becoming a songwriter.  Success didn’t take too long for Mr. Holyfield – his first song was recorded in 1973.  Throughout his career, his songs were recorded by artists John Anderson, Brooks & Dunn, Mickey Gilley, Barbara Mandrell, Charly McClain, Anne Murray, The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, The Oak Ridge Boys, Reba McEntire, Charley Pride, Statler Brothers, George Strait, Mel Tillis, Ernest Tubb, Conway Twitty, Tammy Wynette, and many, many, many more.  

A member of the Nashville Songwriters Hall of Fame, he impressively wrote (and co-wrote) many songs – with over 40 hits that reached the top ten – 14 of which went to #1. Some of his best-known songs are the beautiful “Could I Have This Dance” (Anne Murray), “Some Broken Hearts Never Mend” (Don Williams), “Til The Rivers All Run Dry” (Don Williams), “You’re the Best Break This Old Heart Ever Had” (Ed Bruce), “Only Here For a Little While” (Billy Dean), and “Nobody Likes Sad Songs” (Ronnie Milsap).

Mr. Holyfield passed away this week in Nashville, Tennessee at the age of 82

My favorite song that he wrote will always be his love song to my home state of Arkansas.

Thank you, Mr. Holyfield. 

Update/Addition
After publishing this blog, I found out that in 2021 Mr. Holyfield generously donated the rights to “Arkansas, You Run Deep in Me” to the Arkansas Community Foundation, a nonprofit organization based in Little Rock that awards grants for charitable programs around the state. Having known a few songwriters in my day, I know how valuable song rights can be – both personally and financially. What a generous gift! On the Arkansas Community Foundation website, Mr. Holyfield is quoted saying “I want my song to continue to inspire Arkansans for years to come. Gifting the rights to Arkansas Community Foundation ensures the songs legacy, and will hopefully inspire Arkansans to appreciate our state, its generosity and the support of essential nonprofits,” said Holyfield. “I’m so pleased the Community Foundation has found a way to use my words and music in their efforts.”

The Community Foundation produced a video using the song, and it is spectacular. Click below to see (first) the original video to the song. Then, please take the time to watch the second (updated) version produced by the Community Foundation. They are worth your time.

Arkansas You Run Deep In Me

Arkansas You Run Deep in Me
by Wayland Holyfield

October morning in the Ozark Mountains,
Hills ablazing like that sun in the sky.
I fell in love there and the fire’s still burning
A flame that will never die.

Chorus

Oh, I may wander, but when I do
I will never be far from you.
You’re in my blood and I know you’ll always be.
Arkansas, you run deep in me.
Moonlight dancing on a delta levee,
To a band of frogs and whippoorwill
I lost my heart there one July evening
And it’s still there, I can tell.

Repeat Chorus

Magnolia blooming, Mama smiling,
Mallards sailing on a December wind.
God bless the memories I keep recalling
Like an old familiar friend.

Repeat Chorus

And there’s a river rambling through the fields and valleys,
Smooth and steady as she makes her way south,
A lot like the people whose name she carries.
She goes strong and she goes proud.

Repeat Chorus

Adopted by the 1987 General Assembly as an Official State Song.

You can download a free MP3 file of the song from the state website by clicking here.

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Broken Bits

My Pap-pa was born in the little community of Rex, Arkansas…..a place I had never heard of until after his passing. We never really talked about where he was born…in fact, throughout his life he wasn’t even completely certain what year he was born…..but that’s another pretty good story for another time! 🙂

My Mother, always the explorer, decided that we needed to find out more about her daddy’s birthplace….so on a warm summer day about 24 years ago, we did just that.

After a little research, Mother and I drove up a dirt road in Van Buren County to the small mountain community of Rex. I was feeling doubtful that we would be able to locate any information about Pap-pa’s birthplace since over 80 years had passed….but goodness! I should have known better. First, I feel very confident that Mother had already prayed for success that day….and the Lord listens. Second, when Mother was determined she was determined…and so we drove along until we passed a house with some folks out in the yard. Pulling over – Mother got out, introduced herself, and talked with them a bit. The gentleman gave her directions to an older couple’s home just down the road a ways who had lived in the area all their lives, saying they would possibly have the answers Mother was looking for……

So……onward we went…pulling up in the couple’s driveway just after lunchtime… They were such sweet people (somewhere in their 90’s), and listened carefully as Mother explained why we were there. They were eager and happy to help in any way they could. I’m embarrassed to admit that I don’t remember their names. I so wish I did. For the purpose of this story, I will call them Mr. and Mrs. Smith.

Mr. Smith assured us he knew exactly where my great-grandparents’ house once stood – the house where my Pap-pa was born. He remembered it well from his childhood. In fact, he told us, he could also take us to the homeplace of my great-great grandparents as well. Mother and I were grateful – and excited to see both places.

I thought this meant we would drive, but that was definitely not the case…. Starting out by crawling under a barbed wire fence, we walked quite a ways through several cow pastures, crawling under a few more fences before we came to an obvious rock foundation of an old home…..sitting quietly and alone – far removed from roads or towns. A few burned boards, almost completely rotted away, were all that was left of the structure itself. Mr. Smith assured us that this was the place, telling us that Ike and Sarah (I was surprised and impressed that he knew and remembered the names of my great-grandparents) had built the home and lived there when they started their family. However, after their first son, Woodrow and later their second, my Pap-pa (Clifford) were born, the house burned, causing them to move down off the mountain never to return. The abandoned remains of the house had been left to the elements and the animals for over 8 decades.

As I walked around inside the old foundation of the little house, I found some small broken bits of china and stoneware – remnants of dishes and bowls belonging to a great grandmother I do not remember. I gathered as many as I could find and put them in my pocket, taking them back through the pastures with me – this time traveling a longer, different route to visit the site of my great-great grandparents’ home place as well. It was so interesting and such fun.

When we finally returned to Mother’s van, I wrapped the little pieces up in an old, crumpled paper towel Mother had in the car…..later placing the little bundle in a bottom dresser drawer when I got home….and that’s where they stayed for another 2+ decades.

broken bits

One autumn a few years ago, while attending a Laura Ingalls Wilder celebration dinner in Mansfield, MO – a benefit auction item caught my attention. One of Mrs. Wilder’s plates had shattered, and the museum staff had taken the broken pieces to a jeweler in Springfield, MO who had turned them into beautiful jewelry pieces. I quickly thought of the broken pieces of my great-grandmother’s dishes I had saved all these years….and decided to see what could be done with them.

The next spring, on my Mother’s 78th birthday, I took a day off from work to spend it with her. We went out to eat, shopping, and sightseeing…..and to Gerzens’ Jewelry in Springfield, Missouri. John Gerzen, the jeweler, and Mother worked together to pick the pieces she liked and then tried different patterns for putting them together. They narrowed the possible choices down to 2 or 3….and we left to give her time to think about it.

Unfortunately, the necklace was soon forgotten. Mother began her fight with cancer and other plans drifted to the background…

The broken bits, still in that same ancient paper towel, went back to the dresser drawer….until this year. Several weeks ago, I took them back to Gerzen’s Jewelry in Springfield, MO and finally the now over 100 year old pieces were made into a necklace….

I was so excited when I got the call that the necklace was finished. I couldn’t wait to see the finished piece…..and I was so pleased with Mr. Gerzen’s work. To me, it’s so unique and so pretty.

The best part though, is that when I wear it (as I did today), I think of my Mother….and my Pap-pa, and my great-grandmother Sarah….

I am so very happy to have it.

https://www.gerzensjewelry.com/

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Glimpses of Excellence – A Hero With a Servant’s Heart

In January of this year, I was sound asleep at home one night when I received word that my precious Mother had broken her leg and was being transported by ambulance to a local hospital. Having just recovered from COVID, I was a little wobbly as I hurriedly threw on some clothes and rushed to my car to make the hour-long drive to Mother. When I got to the emergency room, they had the leg stabilized and her pain controlled….but explained that Mother would need specialty surgery as soon as possible. The doctor said she would be transported to a bigger facility in Little Rock first thing the next morning. Mother and I settled in for the night – grateful (during heavy days of COVID) that we could be together as we waited.

The next morning when the EMT’s came to pick Mother up for transport, I told them I would be following all the way. I wasn’t exactly certain where we were going – so I knew I wanted to keep that ambulance in my sight on the drive….and I wanted Mother to know I would be close at hand. I planned on diligently following right behind. They loaded Mother into the ambulance, and I told her I would see her in Little Rock and that I would be praying the trip went well.

It’s funny how sometimes, even as an adult, we can feel so small, and lonely, and scared – like a little girl wishing desperately for someone to reach out and help us – but knowing we have to go on, to face whatever situation has presented itself, relying on our Lord to see us through.

That’s definitely how I felt as the ambulance carrying my Mother pulled out onto highway 62 just after 9:00 that Wednesday morning with me following. Less than one mile into the trip, the “low tire” warning light came on – indicating that my right rear tire was low. This immediately added stress to an already difficult morning – because I (of course) didn’t have time to stop and find someone to help me with the tire – I wanted to stay with that ambulance…..but I also knew I didn’t need to drive on a tire going flat! I didn’t know what to do or who to call, so I pondered it over and said a quick prayer….

As our tiny convoy headed through Alpena, Arkansas, I called Ozark Auto Body in Harrison about 15 minutes away. I quickly explained the situation and how I didn’t want to lose the ambulance, asking if they possibly had a pump to air up my tires. They assured me they would “be ready and watching for me”. I felt immediate relief, because I know the team of folks at Ozark Auto Body. They’re top notch – always incredibly busy (because they’re good!) and always providing reliable, honest service for their customers.

I was still concerned, however….. You see, Ozark Auto Body is located on the OLD highway that travels through downtown Harrison. The ambulance, I knew, would turn left and take the more direct route on the bypass – and I didn’t want to lose them. I had no choice of course – so I sped up a bit and passed the ambulance, trying to gain a little ground. I had gotten just a little bit ahead when I came to the intersection of Highway 65 and old Business 65. I stayed straight onto the old highway and in less than a minute I had my blinker on to turn right into Ozark Auto Body’s crowded lot.

Let me stop here a minute to say that I have never seen Ozark Auto Body on a weekday when it wasn’t busy – and this day was no exception. In fact, it’s often difficult to even find a parking place. On this morning however, as I flipped on my turn signal (before I had even turned off the highway), I saw Donnie running out of the building with an air tank in his hand….waving me to a place easy to pull in and easy to get back out on the road. Busy as they were, they truly had been watching for me. I had barely stopped when he started airing up that back right tire. While he was working with it, someone else was checking my other tires – and literally in just a few moments all four tires were aired up and safely ready to go – they quickly waved me on as I tried to thank them. I hurriedly pulled back onto the road and was on my way. It felt like a pit stop at Daytona – quick, efficient, and incredibly impressive.

I headed on, turned left to cut back over to the bypass, and pulled out literally right behind the ambulance as if it had all been perfectly planned. Isn’t God good?

I will forever be grateful to Donnie and the entire team at Ozark Auto Body. They have helped me out many times through the years, but none will ever stand out as much as that day. I teared up when I saw him waving me in that morning – pausing his very busy work day to have the air tank ready to go, to watch for me to arrive, and be ready to provide help. That lost little girl feeling went away as I was reminded that there are kind, wonderful people willing to give freely of their time just to help others.

That is an everyday hero – a true example of a glimpse of excellence.

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Restoration

Gravestones

I grew up going to cemetery “Decoration Days” with my parents to clean and decorate the graves of loved ones each spring. It is a time to pause and remember – to pay honor to family members we have lost.

Most of my grandparents, great grandparents, and even great-great grandparents are buried within 35 miles of where I was born. I’ve always thought that was kinda cool. In one cemetery, so many of my relatives are buried there that I have lost count. Many of the gravestones are old and have been unreadable for many, many years. When I was a child, I would trace my fingers in the indentions in the stones trying to decipher the names and the dates.

During the past few years, I have watched videos of individuals who safely cleaned gravestones. They peaked my interest – and I wanted to give it a try. First and foremost, I wanted to be sure that I knew what I was doing so that I wouldn’t cause damage. After all, some of these tombstones are over 100 years old!

One year ago this month, I contacted a Facebook friend, Terry Sanders, who had recently posted about this process and he generously provided great information and advice. I purchased my supplies and headed out to get to work.

The gravestones I chose had many decades of buildup, so I knew that multiple trips would probably be required – and I was correct. I was happy to find that overall it is a pretty simple process – but what an absolutely amazing difference it made! I plan to go back next spring and expect to see even greater improvements then, but I am so excited to show you all the results!

Before #1
gravestone
After #1
gravestone
Before #2
gravestone
After #2
gravestone
Before #3
gravestone
After #3
gravestone
Before #4
gravestone
After #4
gravestone
Before #5
gravestone
After $6

I really enjoyed this project! It was a way to honor past generations of my family, and it restored these beautiful monuments much closer to their original state. If you’re interested in the process and products I used, keep reading!

Products and Supplies Needed:  gloves, mask, soft toothbrush, and Wet and Forget (comes in several options – the concentrate can be cheaper, but the “Wet and Forget Outdoor Ready to Use comes premixed with its own sprayer.  Both are good choices based on your preference!)

Process

  1. Choose a day that’s cool (below 80 degrees F is best), cloudy, or overcast to slow product evaporation.
  2. Avoid using on windy days to assure the best surface coverage.
  3. Wipe the surface gently but thoroughly with a dry, soft cloth to remove any dust or debris.  For best results, surfaces should be clean and completely dry.
  4. Wearing gloves, long sleeves, goggles or safety glasses, and a mask (to avoid skin or lung contact with chemicals), spray to saturate the surface thoroughly.
  5. That’s it!  No rinsing needed.  Leave it and let it work.
  6. I went back in (approximately) six weeks and applied more product.  Then, I checked back a couple of months later and used a SOFT toothbrush to gently remove some remaining algae.  Be very careful – the stones can be easily scratched.

For additional information, check out the Wet and Forget website. 

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The Blessings of a Godly Mother

I’ve heard the story of my birth for as long as I can remember…not that it was all that remarkable or out of the ordinary…it was just that my Mother liked telling the story and I loved hearing it. I was expected to make my appearance toward the end of April, 1967. On the afternoon of Friday March 31st, Mother drove to town for a checkup at the doctor’s office, a hair appointment at the beauty shop, and a few other errands. However, when Dr. Magie examined her, he said she needed to head on over to the hospital immediately because she was about to have her baby. Mother laughed, thinking he was joking. After all, I wasn’t expected for 3 more weeks – she had felt no labor pains – he was scheduled to go out of town for a short hunting trip (planned so he could be back for my birth), and she was headed to the beauty shop! She truly believed he was kidding with her. In fact, she told him she had a hair appointment and asked if it would be all right if she got her hair fixed and then head to the hospital. He assured her she needed to go straight there – so she called Daddy and Mam-ma to come join her, then settled in nervously and excitedly to wait. Dr. Magie was right – I was born just after 4:00 am the next morning, an April Fool’s baby who fooled her family by arriving a few weeks early.

As a little girl, I always smiled a big smile when Mother told me this story. I loved thinking I had played a clever trick on my family with my surprise arrival.

The hospital where I was born closed shortly after my birth when a new hospital was built across town. The beautiful old building sat up on a hill empty and abandoned for years. One day when I was around 8 years old, Mother drove me up that hill and around to the back of the deserted building. She said she wanted to show me something. We got out of the car and had walked only a few steps when Mother pointed up to the unique round balcony on the 3rd floor. “I walked out on that balcony the night before you were born and stood for the longest time praying over your life”, Mother said. “I just wanted you to know that – that I prayed earnestly for you before you were even here.”

Photo credit: Betty Patterson (Thank you, Betty.)

Even as a child, I was humbled by what she said – it seemed like such an important thing to me that day….and it still does. Every time I remember her words, I feel so honored, so blessed by her gift.

I just did the math – I have been on this earth a total of 20,290 days since my April 1 birth all those years ago – and I feel absolutely and 100% completely confident that my Mother has prayed for me on every single one of those days. What an amazing blessing!!!

So, my precious mother prayed for me before I was born and every day since then. I have never lived one single day on this earth without being covered by her prayers. Not one single day. What a difference, what an impact this has had on my life.

It made me thoughtful recently, thinking how I would miss those prayers someday when she is no longer with me…..

…but several weeks ago, Mother was talking to me and thanking me for helping her with some things. “I pray about your future”, she said, “and I’ve prayed that when you get older and perhaps need help, that there will be someone there to help you like you’ve helped me.”

She has prayed for my future! Those thousands of prayers have included specific, thoughtful petitions regarding challenges we all face in this life.

I firmly believe our wonderful, loving Heavenly Father hears our prayers – and I am so grateful that He does. I also couldn’t be more humbled or thankful for the prayers of a Godly mother, devotedly approaching the King of Kings on my behalf.

Thank you, Mother. I love you so very much. I am forever grateful.

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Happy 90th Birthday, Mel Tillis

Mel Tillis stories are far better told in person and not in written form – because Mel, despite his lifelong stutter, had an absolutely incredible understanding of the art of communication and he used it beautifully. His vocal inflections, his timing, his choice of words, his facial expressions and his body language made his stories simply priceless. Since I can’t tell you this story in person (Believe it or not, I can do a fairly good impression 🙂 ), I hope those of you who are familiar with Mel will be able “hear” him as you read.

Mel was one of the first Nashville celebrities to build his own theater in Branson. He was also one of the first to copy the practice established by local Branson shows of meeting and greeting the audience in an autograph line after each performance.

Always a gracious host, he cared about his fans and would pose for pictures, shake hands, and visit briefly with anyone who took the time to stand in the (always) long lines to meet him.

One night in August, 20 years ago, I went to see Mel’s show at his Branson theater, sitting in my favorite row (L) about halfway back in the crowd. After the show, I waved to Mel as I was leaving, not wanting to disturb the autograph line, but wanting to wish him a late greeting for his birthday that had passed just a few days before. (It was a big one!). He smiled and waved me over for a hug. As I got closer he grinned mischievously and said, “Heyyyyy, Lisa! Did you know I’m goin’ on 80 years old?” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw several people in the autograph line turn and stare in surprise at this news.

I rolled my eyes and said, “Mel, you’re 70!” I heard a few chuckles. He looked at me with a sincere face but a small hint of a grin and said, “I know that, Lisa….dat’s a-goin’ on 80!” Everyone started laughing. Even in the autograph line, he was working the crowd, delivering humor and bringing joy.

It takes enormous talent and determination to be a successful country music singer or song writer. Mel achieved both…….but even more impressively, he was a gifted, talented, intelligent, creative, and intuitive entertainer.

Today, on what would have been his 90th birthday, I’m thinking about so many stories and smiles. I am blessed to have known him.