On The Road Again

We've been at my mom's in California, gone from home for nearly two weeks. We went to help her celebrate her 90th birthday, and it was really great to be with her. We also got to see some dear friends, although we were very rushed, since we were only there a week, plus three days on the road each way.

My sister Ellen is always the best hostess. She put together a marvelous dinner party for Mom and us on the 11th, with home made manicotti, too many great appetizers to count, and a beautiful cake she created out of a cheesecake and cream puffs. It was drizzled with chocolate syrup, and topped with candles—not only beautiful, but perfectly delicious. As always, I left wanting more of my sister.

We'll stay home long enough to unpack, wash clothes, repack, go to church, and bake cookies for our good neighbor Doug, who watches over our home when we're traveling (and when we're home, he's just a great guy to have around.) Then on Monday we'll take off again. We'll go to Louisiana. What? We were just there. We just don't want the kids to be alone on Christmas. Why should we do Christmas alone at our home, and have them be alone at theirs? It's better to be together.

We'll pull the trailer and continue to pray for decent weather and safety on the road, since we don't usually travel during the Winter months. This time the trailer will have their new bed in it, and they'll have John to help them turn the nursery into a guest room. I'm so glad they wanted us back. It seems unfair that some strange mess up has postponed their trip, but there's nothing any of us can do about that. We do only what we can. The rest is out of our hands.

Someone at Bingo, referring to the tragedy of Jeremiah's death, asked me why this would happen. "How can things like this happen? It's so unfair!" I've heard that so frequently lately, and I know what they mean. I told her what I've heard myself saying lately. Unless we're going to question every blessing we receive, it's not really fair to question the trials.

I've had too many blessings to count. We're going to Shreveport to visit a couple of them.

We Give Up — Temporarily

John recorded me singing at church yesterday. It was a memorial for Jeremiah True, and we can see it in the video camera. There's a little problem, though. We can't get it to transfer to the computer. He pushed a wrong button which switched the camera to a different mode. All the video clips which were currently in the camera became invisible on the camera's monitor screen, but are visible when you try to download on the camera. (I'll admit, though, that when you push the download button, all you get is a beep.)

The recording of me singing for Jeremiah is clearly visible and playable on the camera's monitor. However, when you attach it to the computer to download, it disappears. No amount of fussing and button pushing will make it appear for download. We've read the manual. We've tried the Mac and the PC. John sat up trying "just one more thing" until two a.m., even though we're leaving for California this morning and he's pulling a trailer. He's that kind of man. He was the one making the recording, so he blames himself.

I know it's my fault. I thought the camera was so easy I didn't think he needed to practice. Push one button, point and shoot. But there are a lot of buttons, and he doesn't hold the camera the same way I do, so "the one by your right thumb" isn't a very clear instruction. We should have practiced. What he did was turn on the long playing feature, which apparently stores the clip somewhere else or some way else. It also, unfortunately, makes the clip a very low resolution.

My feeling is that we should just wait until we're in California and have the beautiful little church we used to attend available and go down there to St. Matthews and set the camera up and let me play it again. He can record it again. It will be the same song, with the same feelings—how could I ever sing it and not feel what I do for Jeremiah?

Still, I think we'll end up at one of those photo transfer places where they might be able to help us. John thinks that's the way to go, and he's so very often right. Meanwhile, if you're waiting for this... sorry. I haven't been thinking too clearly lately.

Food Court Flash Mob: Hallelujah Chorus

It happened at the Welland Seaway Mall in Ontario, Canada, on November 13, 2010. It's gone viral on YouTube. Over one hundred members of Chorus Niagra, a group of singers from local churches, colleges and homes, infiltrated the mall food court. The video that was taken that day has been watched well over 5 million times.

Because they allow people to embed it, I'm sharing this treasure with you. I hope it brings you the joy I just received when my high school friend Anita sent the link to me. (Thank you, Anita.)

In Memory of Jeremiah True Harrell

Taps

Day is done, gone the sun,
From the lake, from the hills, from the sky;
All is well, safely rest, God is nigh.

Fading light, dims the sight,
And a star gems the sky, gleaming bright.
From afar, drawing nigh, falls the night.

Thanks and praise, for our days,
'Neath the sun, 'neath the stars, neath the sky;
As we go, this we know, God is nigh.

While the light fades from sight,
And the stars gleaming rays softly send,
To thy hands we our souls, Lord, commend.

.-.-.-.-.-.

Today the family gathered to celebrate the short and blessed life of Jeremiah True Harrell, first child of our son Jeremy and his wife Elisha. He was born in joy, with no problems expected, only to be termed critical immediately and taken from them barely ninety minutes later. His service today was as beautiful as it was heart breaking.

Making Pottery Gifts with Elisha

Elisha's first day of maternity leave was yesterday, and we enjoyed it together while Jeremy was at work and John made his way through his "Daddy Do" list.

Actually, John did amazingly well, installing security lights, extra door locks, changing furnace filters and light bulbs on really high ceilings. Then he managed to change a vehicle light bulb that the service stations were going to charge the kids an hour of labor to "figure out," because their car is a Prius, and nobody knows how to work on them. They opened the compartment to change the bulb during an oil change and said the bulbs couldn't be reached. Oh, yeah. The mighty John figured it out and had it done in ten minutes.

Elisha took me to her favorite gift-making place. It's called Arts on Fire, and is a pottery shop here in Shreveport, where you paint the unfired pottery and then they fire it for you. Of course, it looks very dull and bland before it's fired, so it's hard to tell what color you're really painting, but she said that you get used to that. I think I still prefer plaster craft, which is basically the same thing, but it's done on pre-fired pottery where what you see is what you get.

Still, we had a great day. Elisha picked a gift for my mom's 90th birthday next month, and I painted a piggy bank for their baby. I wish I had thought to take more photos of the pig once I had finished painting it, but I forgot. It looks pretty boring the way it is now, but I added some little animal stencils and JTH, the baby's initials. He'll be the third JTH, by the way, following John Thomas and Jeremy Thomas. I love the name Jeremiah True.

I actually tried to talk John into Jeremiah when Jeremy was born, but John preferred the name Jeremy, and now I'm glad he did, since my first grandson will get the name I've always loved so much.

It was a wonderful day, full of painting and laughing. The owner is an interesting woman named Quincy. She gives just the right amount of help—whatever you need without telling you how she thinks it should be done. She's warm and friendly and handled the table full of pre-teen giggling girls having their first-time painting experience with only one mom to watch them with such ease I thought she'd been doing it for years.

Elisha filled me in. Quincy had never painted before, when the shop owner decided to sell out. One of her twin daughters loved to paint there, so she and her husband decided to buy the place. And that's how history is written, I guess. Our children introduce us to the some of the best paths in our lives.

Shreveport is having a Blues and Jazz Festival today, and we're going to try to get to that, as long as Elisha is feeling up to it. She's still sleeping right now, since with only 3-4 days left until the baby's delivery date, she's up and down all night visiting the euphemism down the hall. As all good babies know, it's important to find mama's bladder and rest there as soon as she gets to sleep. (Thanks for that, Jeremiah True... You're getting her prepared for the ups and downs of nighttime feedings.)

Laughing and Waiting in Shreveport

After five days in Dallas visiting John's cousins, we traveled on to Shreveport, Louisiana to see Jeremy and Elisha. Their son, Jeremiah True, our first grandson and third grandchild, is due on the 17th of this month. We've been having so much fun visiting and laughing together.

There are too many things parents have to buy when they're expecting a child—especially their first. People have been very generous, sending them gifts for this baby, but there were still many additional expenses for them, of course. I finally had to explain that the fun part of being Grandparents is that we don't have to buy anything. Whatever we get is the fun stuff that we decide we simply want to buy. Today we found nine Dr. Seuss books at Sam's Club. I had already checked prices on them at Amazon, and these came three for eleven something. The ones at Amazon would have been nearly triple that. What fun to fill a grandchild's book shelf. (Well, he still needs the shelf...)

Jeremy has to work tomorrow, so Elisha and I plan to go to her favorite craft store where they do ceramic painting. We're going to do a piggy bank for Jeremiah. I have a feeling John will stay at their house, working on his "Daddy Do" list. He's really been going through a bunch of fix-up projects for them. What a hero.

This has been a wonderful trip. Their home is warm and welcoming, and they're so cute in their excitement. I just love being here.

Quick Update

Two days after I had the epidural on my back, we got in the car to drive to California. It wasn't the best timing, but that couldn't be helped. The epidural did help. It didn't help as much as I hoped, but made it so I'm much more mobile than I was. It looks like I'll either be seeing my old back doctor while I'm here, or having back surgery when I get home. I haven't decided yet, but the option is available to see my good old doc for another epidural here. The doctor who did the last one said it might be necessary.

We hit town the same time as a heat wave. I understand there's one going on in Colorado as well, though, so I shouldn't say too much—except that I'm more comfortable at home. And we do have cheaper electricity, so we keep it cooler. Is that enough?

The music for Pastor Stan's welcome back service at St. Matthews went well, I think. I got applause just for standing up and walking to the mic. That's never happened before. It made me feel very welcome, and it also kicked my sense of humor into action. I almost said, "Thank you," and turned to sit back down again. The only thing that kept me from it was seeing so many new faces in the congregation who didn't know me and would have no idea that I was joking. It's great working on the music with "Staniel" again. (Think lion's den...)

Sunday after the early service John and I will be driving to Lake Isabella until the night of the 29th, when we'll return to Newbury Park so we can be ready to greet the kids and grandkids as they start to arrive the next day. These two weeks between the welcome service and the kids' arrival have been the limbo caused by our not wanting to drive back and forth from Colorado twice in a month—not at the price of gas these days. We'll have absolutely no internet at the lake, and I'm not sure there's even a hot spot, but we'll look. It would be nice to put something other than a quick update soon.