Reading You

I was just reading a blog post from one of my favorite authors, Francine Rivers.  She was talking about collections and why we keep things.  In her post, she asked if any of her readers collected things and why. (if you would like to read her post, here's the link, http://www.francinerivers.com/blog/collections )  It made me think for a bit, and I responded with the following:

"Many different things in my life have been "collected" throughout the years, only to eventually be given away or thrown out.  But I seemed to have held onto written words like they were pieces of gold ever since childhood.  Any birthday card with a personal written message, any letter, any drawing, poem, song, journal or diary... I have kept them all.  Because of these collections, I have precious, irreplaceable treasures.  I have letters from my now deceased grandmother who was my best friend.  I have one-of-a-kind gifts that money cannot buy.  I have my childhood recorded in silly diaries and serious journals.  In today's age of technology, words come a dime a dozen, because they are so easily tapped out onto a computer keyboard, proof read with spell check, and sometimes even copied straight from websites.  But nothing will ever replace the magic that occurs when pen meets paper.  Somewhere between the time when words are formed in the mind to the time they appear on the page, the heart speaks.  To me, such words are treasures, worth more than any generic gift from a store.  May we never take for granted the simple things in life that can be so valuable."

To those of you who have blessed me with the gift of your handwritten words, thank you.  I have treasured each and every one.  Reading your  unique penmanship (the word "deciphering" applies to some, ha!) have been some of the greatest moments of my life.  I love the convenience of email and texts, and those who know me at all know how MUCH I love it.  But nothing electronic, no matter how eloquent or flawless, will ever replace seeing your personality expressed in your written words, for it's in those moments that your heart has captured mine.  Thank you, my dear friends.     

Paper pies

Rachel and I made a pie today... it was a strawberry pie with apples.  We cut the pie to serve the three hungry people waiting to sample our baking skills, and in doing so she learned the concept of 1/3!  It was fun, we laughed together, and she was completely enthralled.

There are those who have frowned on our decision to home school our children, and I will be honest and say that there have been several challenging days thus far, and I'm sure there and plenty more to come.  But days like today remind me of the many benefits of homeschooling.  I taught my daughter a new concept, one that she will use throughout the rest of her life.  And we didn't just learn a math lesson... we made a memory.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JOcsClsiPgs&feature=related (I used to sing this to Rachel when she was a baby, it's quite fitting.)

The Louvre in my kitchen

"Zommies", by Jordan Tritsch

Rembrandt, Delacroix, da Vinci... none can hold a candle to the works of art I have in my possession. Displayed proudly on my refrigerator is a treasure trove of masterful drawings and paintings that rival the world's best known artists. I have always been one of these moms that insist on immediately showcasing beautiful pieces that are given to me by my babies. In fact, my main problem is space... I need a bigger refrigerator... or maybe just a few more altogether...

"Traffic Light", by Jordan Tritsch

But as I was walking by the other day, I stopped and admired yet again the masterpieces gracing my main kitchen appliance. It occurred to me I have never owned an original work of art by anyone "famous". I'm not even sure my eyes have actually seen any important art form other than in a textbook. But what I do have, (in my biased, motherly opinion... hey, I proudly wear my mom badge and claim the rights that go along with it), what I posses are irreplaceable, priceless, beautiful treasures. They were given to me in love, they were given to me in free will, and they were each carefully created by little hands that will all too soon grow up and leave my home.

"Healthy Lunch", by Rachel Tritsch

"Love Note", by Rachel Tritsch

Treasures

It's amazing the things you can find while packing up your house to move somewhere else.  I have always been quite the pack rat.  I keep all sorts of cards, letters, and mementos, most of it all silly stuff in other's eyes, I'm sure.  While going through my many boxes and hiding spots for my life's collection of memories, I found things that made me smile, made me cry, made me laugh, made me furrow my brow in confusion as to why in the world I kept that... all sorts of emotions and faces.  I relived my short 31 years in a span of two hours while going through memories heaped in piles of papers and objects, envelopes and packages.  And while sneezing intermittently through the stirring dust, I realized my treasures in life were in front of me. 

I found a toy that had been given to me by my now desceased grandfather, whom I do not remember, as he died when I was just a baby.  I found pictures of school friends, birthday cards, my very first CD's (yeah, those things came out during my childhood... I feel old), deflated balloons, journals from just about every stage in my life, my favorite books that are now falling apart due to being read over and over... so many things.  I found precious things that are irreplaceable, such as letters and poems from my Dad.  Even found a few songs I had "written", lol.  And all this stuff was way before my dating, marriage, and baby years... I filled a plastic bin with stuff from Delbert, all the letters, cards, poems, and pictures from our dating and early marriage. And it took a huge plastic bin filled to the top to hold all my favorite baby things from my three beautiful girls, such as their hospital receiving blankets, going home outfits, baby books, and pictures.... oh my, the pictures.

The whole process made me realize that my treasures are not of any monetary value to others, but are priceless to me, because they are my memories.  It all represented friends and family, people who mean the world to me.  Scribbled coloring pages given to me by children I used to babysit who are now babysitting for me, silly home videos, (even found an old college speech video of Delbert, ha!), these things are what I treasure.  Not because of the things themselves, but because of what they represent.  A picture of my very first ultrasound as I laid eyes on Rachel for the first time reminded me of that entire first pregnancy.  A crushed paper cup I kept reminded me of the day my grandmother held it in one hand while I held the other as the doctor looked across the desk and told her she had cancer, which also reminded me of the day I held that same hand and told her I loved her when she took her last breath.

What's that verse?  "For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also."  (Matthew 6:21)            

Shall we dance?

Ever get an image etched into your mind, like a fingerprint in clay? You know, one of those moments in life that you will never, ever forget? I was reminded of one the other day. My oldest daughter, Rachel, was a cranky newborn. She was by far the fussiest one we've had. It seems as if the first two weeks of her life she cried more than anything else, no matter what we tried to do. We were having one of those nights where nothing seemed to work. Then Del got up, turned on a song by B. B. Winans called "All of Me" (a beautiful song, by the way), and turned the volume up very loud. Then he picked up our fussy baby, held her gently in his arms, and slowly danced with her in the living room... just a gently rocking, side to side dance. She calmed immediately. I sat back and watched with tears in my eyes how her little face was studied on his then her little arm reach up as if she was trying to touch him. And the thought occurred to me at that very moment, "I'll never forget this". My mind transported to the future, and I saw him walking a beautiful bride down the aisle arm in arm and thought how I would remember their very first dance. A few years later, Rachel became engrossed in Cinderella (much like every little girl). She was thrilled to receive a dress-up Cinderella, ball gown for Christmas one year. And she wanted to try it on right then of course. So she got dolled up complete with gloves, tiara, and "glass" slippers, and she went straight to her Daddy. She wanted to dance. And without music, she danced with her prince yet again. Steven Curtis Chapman came out with a popular song around that time about dancing with Cinderella (his daughter), and one line says, "...for all too soon, the clock will strike midnight, and she'll be gone". Well, all of this came to mind yesterday when he playfully picked her up in his arms yet again. Only this time, her 60-plus-pounds and tall frame filled his arms, and I wondered how many more dances with her daddy she would enjoy. Forgive my sentimental thoughts this morning, but I wanted to share my heart. Perhaps, some of my readers with little girls will think of this post and dance with their Cinderella tonight before the coach turns back into a pumpkin.