Category Archives: Cousins/Sisters/Brothers

These blogs are about our cousins, sisters, and brothers.

Photographs: Not Just a Picture, But a Memory -By Donna

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   If your house were on fire what items would you try to save? Many people say old pictures. I do too! I have always loved pictures, and they can be so powerful. Photographs leave a legacy. People don’t often realize that a picture of themselves can very well outlive them. Through pictures we can see relatives we never met, but we can preserve their image.

    Pictures are small pieces of the puzzle of our life. Some of those pieces bring back laughter, while others bring tears. Everything is so digital now that most pictures are hidden in a phone or computer, so I try to print off my pictures. I love my photo albums as do my children. What looks like “just a picture” to one person, may be a whole story to another.

Sorrow Behind a Smile

   To anyone else this picture of Tucker and me, may just seem like a sweet moment. But behind my smile was sorrow. I had just returned from the hospital where I had a DNC for the baby that I miscarried. It reminds me of the ultrasounds, the tests, the bad news, and telling the kids.

The Cool Aunt

   This picture on the other hand brings laughter. It reminds me of Emily’s junior year in high school when I took her and her best friend to Florida. On the way back, our car broke down. My nephew and his friends happened to be in Florida at the same time. He was about an hour behind us. When he came by he picked us up. He had room for five, but there were seven total. So, two boys volunteered to ride in the back of the truck, under the cover with the luggage. My nephew was driving, Emily and Anna sat in the front passenger side sharing the seat. I sat in the back with two teenage boys. To save gas, he drove with the windows down. My hair was covering my face from the wind. The one type of music I despise is rap. I had to listen to it from Florida all the way to Atlanta! I was really feeling my age. But I smiled when they said I was the “cool” aunt because I didn’t make them turn it off.

Halloween Memories

   Today was October 31. I have many pictures of past Halloweens. This year Tucker was a lion, and from the picture you can tell he wasn’t feeling so well. My brother Keith was with us when we went trick or treating. Tucker’s hot costume wasn’t helping any and making him feel worse. So my brother jumped out of the van and began “trick or treating” for soda crackers to soothe Tucker’s tummy. That’s also the year that the first house we visited, “Dracula” answered the door and Travis was so scared he wouldn’t get out of the car again. My nephew, Justin had to collect candy for him.

   Last Christmas I was trying to think of what to get Mamaw, who was 96 and surely didn’t need another robe. I decided to sneak an old picture and have it restored and framed for her. Rather than getting a studio type picture, I chose the one of Papaw and her sitting on the hood of his truck. He had passed away over twenty years ago. In the picture they were in their teens and full of life. As her wrinkled, arthritic hands unwrapped the gift, her eyes filled with tears. She said, “Oh, this isn’t a picture, it’s a memory,” and she proceeded to tell every detail about that day.    –Donna

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Sisters: Adopted In -By Donna

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According to the internet, the first Sunday in August is National Sisters Day! Many of my friends and cousins had sisters, but I was the only girl in the middle of two brothers.  (You can read more about that in the blog, Brotherly Love, located in the February Archives.)

Growing up, I never longed for a sister. I believe it was for several reasons. When I was very young, my little brother played everything a sister would have from Barbie dolls to house. As a teenager, my cousin Lisa spent most of the summer at my home, so I had a temporary sister. In addition, two weeks out of the summer Karla and I stayed together.  Obviously, when I went off to college, I had my fill of females in my dorm. Who needs a sister?

Mama

When I lost my mama in February 2007, I realized the reason I never yearned for a sister was because she was that “sister” figure in my life. She was my confidant, shopping buddy, shoulder to cry on, psychologist, and more. Mama was the one to call when there was an embarrassing question that I didn’t want to ask anyone else. She always had advice about my kids. She knew me inside and out. But when Mama died, despite my close cousins and friends, I felt a gaping hole. 

Karla was always there for me, above and beyond, but over the course of the year, after Mama’s passing, I really became aware of what it meant to have a sister. I had watched it from afar. I saw Karla, who had lost her mother a few years prior, and her three sisters.  During the months and years after their mom died, she always had her sisters checking on her, helping her, loving her, and grieving with her. Over the years, Karla had become the sister I never had. But, wow she had three. When one couldn’t be there, another stepped in. My brothers are wonderful and would do anything for me, but there are things that boys just don’t understand. Now that mama was gone, I realized how special a sister was. 

Sisters

One day, I expressed my feelings to Karla about how lucky she was to have sisters. I believe it was the next day that I received a text from Lynn, Karla’s oldest sister and the Matriarch of our generation. It stated that I was now a sister to them. I smiled at the gesture and knew Karla had shared with them my thoughts, but didn’t really think a lot about it. But over time, I came to realize it was not just a “gesture”. I began to be included in group texts between the sisters. They began treating me as if I was one of them. And the thing that melted my heart was that all of their children began calling me “Aunt Donna”.

I was not fortunate enough to have a birth sister, but God has blessed me with multiple sisters, and I didn’t even have to share my clothes with them growing up! But as you can see from the picture, mine probably would have been a little too short for them.

 

 

 

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Fiftieth Birthday: Hawaii Five-O. -By Karla

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The Reason for the Travels 

Our blog, Smorgasbord of Sisterhood, is centered on faith, family, and laughter. For this special 50th birthday, I received a trip that embraced all three. I love lying on a float in the ocean! This trip we may not have been in Hawaii, but my 5-0 birthday brought us to the beach.

Sisters, cousins, and an aunt accompanied me to Florida. I do believe our laughter might have been heard all the way back in Georgia. Some names have been changed to dashes (-) to protect the innocent (or guilty).

Spotted before We Realized

On the way down, Donna and I spotted an aunt who was driving alone. We came up with this great plan, which amused us! Donna was going to put the pedal to the metal, catch up, and strategically pull parallel with her at nearest red light. My job was then to hang out the window waving my arms frantically yelling at her. We did catch up and tailed her, waiting on the opportunity. But being the human jukeboxes we are, when an old favorite came on we got distracted.  While sitting in a turning lane, we were singing and videoing ourselves, as she spotted us, got out of her car, and came back to give us a hug, surprising us!

Games and Laughter

Four out of the six nights we played board games; one of my favorite things to do. Ranging in ages from forty-nine to seventy-six, games can be quite interesting. One game required us to pick from a multiple choice list of different things that best described us while the other players try to guess “who you are”. This is when we learned that one cousin considers herself apathetic. Now, that was like wearing a target for the rest of the trip! Anytime there was a choice to be made someone would shout out, “Well, — doesn’t care!”

Another game was somewhat like Pictionary. One contestant felt so successful when her teammate guessed her drawing to be an action. Sadly, her bubble was quickly burst when we told her the word “action” was just the hint not the word to be guessed!

Fatty Wad Ryder

Later in the week, one player stated, “Well, I’m just sucking hind ***” because she was in last place. This caused someone to almost spit out her water she had just gulped! Turns out, that is a farm saying for what happens often to the little runt. Sometime during the games, we heard of a story from “the good old days” in which a cousin’s best friend’s brother was named Fatty Wad Ryder. I lie you not! I cannot make that one up!  

“Well, it’s true! I don’t even know his real name. His parents and teachers even called him Fatty Wad.” She pronounced. I am still laughing over that one, and might be at my 100th birthday party!

One night between a round of the game, I received some birthday cards. As one cousin handed me my card, she announced, “Here you go. It’s a funny one. I didn’t sign it in case you want to reuse it!”

Only a Few Arguments 

We had such a blast. With almost no arguing, except every time we got in the van! Two of the eight attendees have back problems. They were constantly arguing about who was not going to take the front seat because the other one needed it more. It even came to a few “friendly” shoves!

A feud occurred over who would pay for the pizzas. One cousin had declared she would pay for it, and laid her debit card out. Donna and I volunteered to go pick it up. Walking out the door, I said, “Oh, I forgot –‘s debit card.”

Donna whispered, “It’s my turn to pay for something. Don’t get it.! Go and shh!”  When we were almost out the door, — yelled, you forgot my card.”

Donna tried to push me on out the door, “Pretend you didn’t hear her.”

“I can’t lie.”  I trudged over and got it. Donna thought she had the last laugh and paid the $20 at the counter. Upon leaving the beach, the aunt gave Donna a card (whose birthday happens to also be in July). Inside, yep!  You guessed it. There was a $20 bill.

Our family loves to eat! We enjoyed several meals and lots of ice-cream. There would be no arguments over extra ice-cream because — not only ate her’s every night, but the leftovers of everyone else too! “Don’t throw that away!  I’ll eat it!”

Beach Time

At the beach, the fun continued. The ocean is not on the top ten list of favorites among some of our family. One of these cousins was being oh-so-brave as we coaxed her out further and further. I stated, “You know, I am pretty proud of you being out here.”  Her reply, “Yeah, I’m pretty proud of myself too!” Donna and I were careful not to discuss the helicopters that were flying back and forth over the water and what they might be looking for.

Our family is so awesome. to care for one another. One night, Donna and I were taking the trash to the dumpster. We detoured to swing a while on the kid’s swing set. An aunt met us at the door when we got back. “Y’all been gone for a long time. I was not going to bed until you got back!”

One of the bad “back” ladies was in the ocean. After a while she tired and another cousin treaded back with her to the beach. I looked up from my float to see them holding hands. Taking care of each other is what we do. At meal times, we all held hands saying grace and thanking God for our safety, our families, and birthdays!

-Karla (Who will withhold the names of the innocent because what happened in Panama City Beach stays in Panama City Beach, except the memories!)

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Going Home -By Donna

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Karla and I drove to my daddy’s on Father’s Day for an overnight visit. He still lives in the house I grew up in, but the definition of going home has changed over the years. During the college years, it meant someone to wash my clothes, make a homemade meal to eat, and a place to get a good night’s sleep.

When I moved into the married years with children, I was no longer the most anticipated person walking in the door. Grandkids stole the first hugs and much of the attention while we toted in all essentials needed when traveling with little ones. The older married years were lots of fun when I was home. With all five grandchildren together swimming, Mama and I would cook in the kitchen. My brothers picked on me like they used to. Eleven years ago, going home became difficult for my brothers and me. We spent time with Mama, knowing the cancer would someday result in her absence from our childhood home.

Changes

Going home now means the absence of some family, including mama and the introduction of new members. Even the pool I loved as a kid, has been filled with dirt and vegetables.

Going home may be different now, but somethings just never change. Walking in the door and greeted with hugs, Karla and I barely had time to use the bathroom before we were invited to the table. It was filled with delicious home-cooked food including veggies from the garden. For at least 40 of my 50 years, Karla and I have graced the table together many times. However, no older brother was burping and getting fussed at and my mama was not running back and forth waiting on our every need.

But as always, Daddy blessed the food. My daddy has always said, “Dear Heavenly Father” when he would begin and ended with, “and bless this food to the nourishment of our bodies, in Jesus’ name we pray, amen.”  We all held hands as I listened to his familiar southern dialect. Karla came to tears as she held his elderly hand and noticed he was constantly rubbing her hand as he prayed. Perhaps she felt the age in his hand, but she also felt the love in his heart.

More Change

The next morning I stretched and rolled over in my childhood bedroom, though nothing looked the same. No poster of Eric Estrada, stuffed animals, cat collectibles, or stereo system was seen. But the familiar smell of breakfast cooking caused me to awaken early. It’s not often someone cooks breakfast for me! Just as I was about to try and catch a few more winks, my door flew open. “Are you awake Donnie Boo? Breakfast is ‘bout near ready if y’uns want some.”

 It was a little different when I was a child and he woke me. In those days, I would hear, “Wake up Jacob, give a little light; see your daddy in a pole cat fight!” I heard it every Sunday morning as he stirred me awake to get ready for church. Still my daddy’s voice waking me brought such a smile. 

Deciding we would all go to town, Karla and I got ready. As we did so many times growing up, we stood in front of the wall mirror in the blue bathroom. We painted our faces, curled our hair, and laughed just as in years past. But I saw no tube of Clearasil, Panasonic tape player or hot rollers. What I did see were two faces with a few wrinkles sneaking in, a gray hair here and there, and smiles that have withstood many tornadoes of life together.

Saying Goodbye

When we were ready to head back home, the departing routine began as it always did in the past. Daddy checked the oil, put a little more air in the tires, and a touch of water in the radiator. All lights were inspected: front, brake, back-up and signal. He packed the car making sure nothing was sticking up high enough that my view would be blocked. Then he cleaned the front windshield so that I could see clearly.

 

What had changed? The man, who was smiling and waving at us as we pulled away. He looked like the man I grew up describing as old…my granddaddy. While we were growing up, Daddy was growing old.

No matter how different things are now, the love I have felt over the years and the years to come will never change. Even when my childhood home and family are no longer there to visit, they will exist in my heart.

 

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Humor: Afternoon Delight -By Karla

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Desiring to Alter the Birth Order

Growing up in the 70’s, God placed me smack-dab in the middle of the eight grandchildren. The adults referred to us as the “big kids”, ranging from about ten to thirteen, and the “little kids”, ages eight and down to four. Lynn, Kay, Gail, and Nanette made up the “big kid” group, while Jimmy, myself, Denise, and Julie made up the “little kids”. Oh, how I yearned to advance to the “big kid” group.

Being One of the Little Kids

It was a common occurrence to find the eight-of-us in Nana’s basement, using the saw horses and plywood from Granddaddy’s construction business to build a stage. Utilizing the downstairs’ clothesline, we hung Granddaddy’s wool, green army blankets to make theatrical curtains. We would practice all afternoon, and then present our production for the adults, who sat in lawn chairs, that evening. We had hours of fun.

I remember the time when the “little kids” had to be bears with a target on their butts. The “big kids” took old rags and drew circles with red lipstick. Then we, the little kids, had to tuck the target into the back of our shorts, letting it drape over our derrieres!

I pouted and cried, like that helped me look like one of the “big kids”. We had to dance around shaking our target-ladened booties as the eight of us acted out Johnny Horton’s “Ole Slew Foot” song.

“He’s big around the middle and he’s broad across the rum

Running ninety miles an hour taking thirty feet a jump

Ain’t never been caught; He ain’t never been treed

And some folks say he looks a lot like me. (Except we changed the word me to say he looks a lot like Granddaddy!)

Everyone died laughing!

We had such good times in that basement. However, I felt doomed to be one of the “little kids” my whole life!

Alas, The Chance to be a Big Kid

Aunt Anna and her family lived south of Atlanta in Jonesboro during these years. Sometimes, my sisters and I would spend a few nights with them during the summer.

On these days there was only six of us, but the names were still the same: The “big kids”, who could go around the corner to walk or ride bikes, and the “little kids”, who given strict instructions to stay on the street directly in front of Aunt Anna’s house.

The “big kids” would come back from their walk into complete freedom, with huge grins on their faces. They would giggle and whisper their secrets from the beyond.

“I can’t believe he was outside! Oh, Gail, did you see him?”

“Yes, he is so cute!”

Oh! I so wanted to round the corner with them. “Who, who? Tell me who you saw. Please!”

“Robert. He’s sooo cute!”

“Yep, he wears his cut off blue jean shorts and sits out on his porch.”

“I want to go with y’all! Please take me!” I begged and pleaded until once they begrudgingly allowed me to tag along.

I beamed, “Will he be there?”

“Shh! We’ll have to look for his orange van to see.” They tried to act cool.

Orange van?

Seeing Robert

“Yep, and you know the song ‘Afternoon Delight’? It’s painted across the side of it.

Now please know that as far as our innocent minds were concerned, afternoon delight probably had something to do with the ice cream truck that made its way through the neighborhood around 2:00 every day.

Rounding the corner, Kay began singing, “Sky rockets in flight”, and we all joined in, “Afternoon delight, afternoon delight, afternoon delight with long notes held out and the dramatic pauses for effect.

We were singing and laughing when we saw the orange van. And The tanned, twenty-something handsome Robert was on the porch also.

I thought I had arrived!

However, when we got back to Aunt Anna’s, my short-time advancement into the “big kid” league had pretty much ended. Thankfully, Jimmy and Julie were ready for me to come back to play with them.

A More Recent Van

I recently loaned my daughter Rachel my car while hers was in the shop. I borrowed a car from my sister, but it broke down. So I then borrowed from two different friends. Finally, I rented a car.

When a precious lady from my small group Bible study found out is was renting a car, she let me borrow her van.

I arrived at her house so grateful. Patty sheepishly told me she had forgotten that there was an issue with it he van.

“I bought a new couch, but it is still inside my van because I am waiting for the old one to be picked. But, if you do not mind having a van in the back, please feel free to still borrow it though. I am sorry.”

Couch or not couch, I need something to drive.

I thanked her and drove off thinking. It has been a tough couple of weeks with car issues. I was close to a pity party, but burst laughing!

“Robert, you ain’t got nothing on me!”

And I began singing, “Sky rockets in flight, afternoon delight…”

-Karla

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Humor: Keep Calm and Eat Cake -By Donna

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When Karla and I were at Reinhardt, one of our friends decided to move. Our group decided to throw her a good-bye party. Karla and I were asked to make the cake. Happily, we agreed. Our friend Stephen was a RD at the school, and he had a complete kitchen. He left us at his pad to make our creation. 
 We decided to make a chocolate cake with a white 7 minute frosting. This was one of my mom’s signature cakes. The frosting required a double boiler, which of course a bachelor did not own. So we improvised. I filled a large sauce pan with water and put a Teflon pan on top filled with the egg yolks and other ingredients. It worked! The water below heated the mixture, and we beat it for the required seven minutes as it formed stiff peaks. We quickly iced the cake and headed to the car, as not to be late for the party.
Driving to Pizza Hut, Karla remarked, “What are these black dots in the icing?”
“Oh, I bet a few crumbs flaked into the icing.” We didn’t take the time to decrumb the cake, like I had learned in my cake decorating class.
“No, I don’t think so. Look at it in the sunlight! The icing is full of black specs.”
 On closer inspection I realized she was right. “Oh my gosh! It’s the pan. It’s the Teflon. The beaters must have knocked the non-scratch lining off into the icing.”
“Donna, what do we do? We can’t serve this to people. They will be eating Teflon chips!” Karla exclaimed.

Our Lips are Sealed

“We have to bring a cake! We don’t have time to get another one.  They will never know.”
 “Ok. Our lips are sealed, but I’ve heard Teflon is bad for you.”
 After the pizza and presents, we sliced the cake. As our friend Kim passed out pieces, we kept silent. She sat a plate of poison in front of each of us. Everyone was digging in. “This is delicious! Great cake, girls. What kind of icing is this?”
 We looked at each other, took deeps breaths and I replied, “chocolate chip.”We sat there smiling.
 Stephen questioned, “Aren’t ya’ll going to eat it?”
 We silently communicated, “Do we eat it?” “What if we get sick?” Karla and I stared at each other like Thelma and Louise did while preparing to drive over the cliff. We placed a bite on our forks, and together we ate it.
Our apologies to these friends, who at this moment at just discovering our secret.
–Donna

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Brotherly Love -By Donna

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Not everyone is fortunate enough to have a brother, or two for that matter.  I grew up being the middle child between two males. Brothers can be a different breed. As a child, I had several friends that had only sisters.  When they would spend the night at my house, they didn’t always understand my brothers’ boyish ways. My older brother would “pick” on us while my younger brother vied for my attention since my friend had taken his playmate away for the day.  

Karla lived with her mom and three sisters. When I was young and stayed at her house, I was shocked at how they were able to walk around in their skimpies. Curling irons, hot rollers, perfume, makeup, and all kinds of girly things were everywhere. No one was burping their ABCs or making any other unmentionable noises.  

My Younger Brother

My little brother was my playmate. I had a ball dressing him up and making him play with Barbies. He interacted with Barbie with his Evel Knievel figure. He played baby dolls with me too. We often played Charlie’s Angels. I was Kelly because I thought Jaclyn Smith was the most gorgeous woman alive, and he had to be Sabrina because she had the shortest hair. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t overbearing; we played guy stuff too. I had my own collection of Match Box cars, and I could be seen doing an army crawl often. The day he tried to shoot me with a BB gun as I was riding my bike was extremely scary!

When I went off to college, he mailed me cards. He would go to Hallmark, purchase a card, and alter it with something funny. For instance, I have always loved cats. One day I got a card he sent me with a beautiful white cat on the front. He had stuck a stick pin through its head and drew blood all over it before he lovingly mailed it to me. I still have every card he ever sent.  My mother once said, “Those two would kill for each other.” She was probably right.

My Older Brother

Growing up my brother, who is three years older than me, picked on me relentlessly. So, I listened to my nicknames like Thunder Thighs, Dumb Lefty, and many more for years. If I had a nickel for every burp I listened to, I’d be rich. And of course there was always the poking or hitting when Mama wasn’t looking.  He always made fun of the way I laughed, and to this day I don’t laugh out loud often.  

When I started wearing makeup, he would say, “You look like a clown!” or “Did you put that on with your eyes closed?”  Being the quiet person I was, I never had a good comeback or the guts to physically get him back. So, I lived with an older brother that could have won a trophy for Most Annoying Brother in the World. But he always took care of me and still does.

Well, a few days ago, I got my older brother back for all the years of brotherly abuse, and I didn’t even have to do a thing. Saturday, I went into a gun store with him. As the man began helping us, he looked at my brother and said, “Are you getting this for your daughter?” motioning toward me. The look on my brother’s face was priceless.  And believe me, this time, I did laugh out loud!  

As the three of us have grown older, the laughs continue. Not to sound sappy, but we have been through some rough times, but in the end, (in the words of Captain and Tennille) “Love will keep us together”. 

If you have a brother, tell them Happy Valentine’s Day for they were among the first males you will ever love!

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70s Memories: The Wild, Wild West -By Karla

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Saturday Morning Cartoons

Saturday mornings brought many smiles from 70’s cartoons like Go Speed Racer, Scooby-Doo and Speed Buggy. Sometimes I woke while the white, yellow, green, red, and blue vertical lines were boldly lighting up the screen and the buzz was blaring in the air. I would pour myself a bowl of Frosted Flakes; Saturdays were the only day we were allowed such junk, as my mom appointed herself the junk-food police. One by one my sisters would pour their bowls and join me. We had the occasional tiff concerning whether we would watch Johnny Quest, Lynn and Gail’s favorite, or Super Friends that Julie and I preferred. Mom usually pipped in and reminded us to take turns.

After having only channel 3, 9, and 12 for much of our childhood, WTBS came into town bringing Saturdays filled with the wonderful world of old TV westerns! However, the old west was not new to us; Granddaddy had introduced us to Matt Dillon and Miss Kitty in Dodge City at a very young age.

My western crush: Lee Majors

The men of the old west were probably our first crushes. The Big Valley gave us Jared (Lynn’s love), Nick (Gail’s love), and Heath (Julie’s and mine). Not that we talked about our TV crushes very often until we were adults, but I know Bobby Sherman in Here Comes the Brides, was a favorite of ours. It is certain that we had several of his 8-tracks, and we used to aggravate the stew out of Julie singing his lyrics, “Julie, Julie, Julie, do you love me?” I believe Gail and I loved Silver and Scout the horses as much as we did the Lone Ranger and Tonto. We also enjoyed The High Chaparral. Now, I am not sure I remember who loved whom in that one, but it is easy enough to guess that Lynn would have been attracted to the oldest man in the show! And oh my, Robert Conrad in Wild, Wild West, Robert Fuller in Laramie, and James Gardner in Maverick.  (Though I did not know it at the time because Donna and I did not get to see each other on a weekly basis. I know she had to have liked Bonanza, where her love for Michael Landon began.)

Gunsmoke and a bowl of cereal

Sometimes in today’s Hollywood world, we find that some stars began their careers in the soap world. I think then, many actors began their road to stardom on the dusty westerns during the late sixties. I know that Lynn still enjoyed Robert Conrad in Ba Ba Black Sheep filmed in the late 70’s. Burt Reynolds and Dennis Weaver were both in Gun Smoke, and I so liked watching them in things later in life, especially Dennis Weaver, when he played in Gentle Ben and later in the detective series McCloud. Although sadly to my dismay, mom rarely allowed me to stay up late enough for that one. My, I always thought he was handsome in his rugged, tan, sheep’s wool coat. Not only did we watch Robert Fuller in Laramie, but later I totally adored watching him at Nana and Granddaddy’s in Emergency as the striking Dr. Kelley Brackett who saved lives. But, I think my favorite might have been when Granddaddy felt good enough to stay up and watch James Gardener in his later role in The Rockford Files. Of course, I was really too young to understand all the adult humor or flirting that occurred, but I have such memories of those days of eating our nightly bowl of cereal watching him solve cases.

Healing with the Rifleman

Several weeks ago, I had a stomach virus and was home on the couch for a couple of days. I was flipping through the channels and found another wonder that we watched in our young years. The Rifleman opened the show shooting his gun repeatedly to warn the villains. I enjoyed episode after episode, and I realized why we loved these westerns so much as kids. They were so simple and yet intriguing. The bad guy was easy to spot. I watched as the suspense built with music, not with crazy scenes of blood or explosions. If there was sadness, it was to teach a lesson. And the good guy always prevailed!

I like a world where the good guys always win! And I am in luck.

“For everyone born of God  overcomes the world. And this is the victory that has  overcome the world-our faith.”

-1 John 5:4

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Fasting: Life Is a Song, Sing It! -By Donna

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Our pastor asked the congregation to do a twenty-one day fast to encourage more prayer time. During the three weeks, you choose what you would like to eliminate, and choose something different every seven days. So the first seven days I gave up meat and sweets. It was a piece of cake, no pun intended. The second week I gave up just bread. No problem. Even when I went to Cracker Barrel, and the plate of cornbread and biscuits were set in front of me I wasn’t tempted. It was the first time in my life I have eaten turnip greens without cornbread!

For the third week, it was suggested to choose something that you really love and spend a lot of time doing. The first thing that entered my mind was music. I adore music. From bluegrass to Frank Sinatra to 80’s hair bands, I love it. (Though, I can do without opera and rap!) So this week I am giving up listening to music. I have reached for my car radio dial numerous times. At home, I often click the Pandora app without thinking. I am only on day two, and the struggle is real!

Music

Music has always been a part of my day. I forever have a song playing in my brain. I literally wake up each day with a melody in my head. This morning was “By the Light of the Silvery Moon”. I don’t even know how I know that song! Growing up I listened to records Mama played on the big wooden stereo, hymns in church, and 8 tracks in the car. I took piano lesson and was in chorus for years.

Our family has reunions in the summer. We have cousins and uncles that set up a sound system and play on the front porch while we all lounge in the yard and listen. We enjoy guitars, banjos, spoons and voices.

In college, Karla and I listened to “Delilah’s Love Songs” B98.5 every night as we did our homework. Every afternoon after lunch, we would take turns standing on the bed singing karaoke into our hairbrushes to the Bellamy Brothers or Dolly Parton, to pep us up before class. To this day, we still finish sentences with song lyrics whenever possible.

Music is very powerful. It can take you back to a moment in childhood. I can still hear the tune that Grandmother used to hum in the kitchen. My mind remembers what song was playing when my mama told me Elvis died. I remember the hymn being sung as I walked down the aisle to give my heart to Christ.

Music Memories

Music also gives me vivid memories of when my children were little. I can see Tucker at 18 months strapped in his car seat kicking his little legs, pointing at the radio saying, “three steps, three steps” . He was indicating that he wanted to hear his favorite song by Lynyrd Skynyrd. I can see Travis crawling as fast as he could to the TV when he heard the theme song from Barney. I laugh as I remember Emily in her pig tails dancing around her room, singing to the Spice Girls.

Music can bring a tear to my eye. I’ll never hear “I’ll Fly Away” without picturing my mama’s body lying in the casket that cold February day. When I hear the song, “One More Day” I think about my cousin Tammy, who left this earth too young.

Music is a gift of inspiration. The words to music can be healing to your heart. During a tough time in life, three songs seemed to follow me. They were “Good, Good, Father”, “Tell Your Heart to Beat Again”, and “Just Be Held.” Every time I got in the car and turned on the radio, one would be playing. I don’t believe it was an accident. God was using what I love to remind me He was there. Fasting from music may be strange, but it has made me very thankful for the gift that God has blessed us with since the beginning of time.

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Best Friends: Saturday Fun -By Donna

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    Lucy and Ethel, Laverne and Shirley, and Thelma and Louise are just a few famous lady duos. But these girls have nothing on us! 

Karla and I were fortunate enough to be born into our friendship, second cousins by birth.  Karla’s mom and my dad were first cousins and had their fair share of adventures, and we have continued the family escapades. We have so many stories we could write a book. So that’s just what we are doing and have been for years.

   With both of us having busy family lives, we don’t get to meet and write as often as we would like. So, it’s taking such a long time because when we get together, it can be difficult to buckle down and get busy. Take Saturday for instance. We met for lunch first. This is always essential because we love Cracker Barrel, and we have to catch up on each other’s lives. Even though we have texted and talked during the week, it’s just not the same as the face to face commentary. 

Beauty Shop Fun

     The weather was absolutely beautiful for this time of year, so we decided to go to Starbucks and sit outside to work. We hadn’ t been writing long when Karlas’ hot flashes began and there was not a ponytail holder to be found. So, like MacGyver, we used whatever was at hand. Being the person who is never without dental floss, I pulled off a long string. Karla attempted to put her hair up alone, but wasn’t having much luck. So I got up to do it. I carefully wrapped the floss around and around her hair, tying it and carefully making a dainty bow. People sitting outside were staring at the makeshift beauty shop, but we have gotten used to stares!

Friend Fun

     Our book spans many generations, starting with our great-great grandfather and reaching down to us. Saturday, we decided to write a story from our college years.  One thing led to another, and we were laughing and singing. It often happens when one of us has a random thought.  It started when Karla said, “I’m a pickin’”; then paused for me to add ” and I’m a grinnin’” That reminded me of a song from our childhood.  I started in, “Pickin’ up Paws Paws and puttin’ them in my pocket…”  (And of course being the kindergarten teacher that I am, I was picking up imaginary paw-paws and putting them in my pretend pocket.) As I continued singing, Karla joined in.  

     I abruptly stopped asking, “What is a paw paw anyway?”

     Karla’s reply, “probably poop.”

     “Poop!  Why would you put poop in your pocket?”

     “I don’t know, they’re picking in a field, you know poop like cow patties.”

     So I quickly googled it, and we were amazed to discover that a paw paw is a fruit! We had sang this song since childhood and never knew what we were singing about.

     We began discussing the time we decided to change the words to hit songs, making them apply to our love life, or lack of, and create our own Top 40 Countdown.  What fun we had with a record player and tape recorder in those days. 

Boom Box

     To Karla’s surprise, I had downloaded these tapes a while back to my computer because I’m sure with age they are becoming brittle. Remembering that I had them on the computer, I located them for us to listen to. Since Starbucks had music playing over the outside speakers, it was difficult for us to both hear. So we improvised.  We sat holding the big laptop computer between our two heads like a giant boom box, and we listened and laughed until we cried.  We weren’t the only ones amused. People sitting around were getting a kick out of us. More times than we can count, we have been mistaken for being intoxicated. But life is meant to enjoy, and that is what we do!

    

 

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