Category Archives: Family

Kindness: Always Stay Humble and Kind- by Donna

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They say opposites attract. I’m not so sure I believe that, but in my daddy and mama’s case, it was true. Their personalities couldn’t have been any more different. My mama was a loving, feisty spit fire. My daddy was a patient, laid back, funny man. I have always said I am 99% my daddy and 1% my mama. I am like my daddy; But, I don’t think I can live up to the size of his big, kind, humble and selfless heart.

My daddy loved to tell stories and laugh. He had a southern drawl and North Georgia mountain vocabulary like few I’ve ever known. I loved to hear him retell the story of when the tractor ran over him. “I knew I’z in trouble when that there tire runned over me. It sounded plum like a hound dog crunchin’ on a possum. I mean to tell you; I hear’d my bones a crunchin’. 

All Smiles

Daddy was such a smart, talented man; he could fix or build anything. Alzhimer’s eventually took that ability away, but it never took his grin or joy. He continued to be a happy man and wore a smile most of the time. When he entered the nursing home, the staff commented how they loved him because he was always joking with them. During weekend visits at the home, we all had tears from laughing running down our faces. My favorite quote is “a day without laughter is a wasted day”. Humor has always abounded in my family; I am thankful my parents passed down their sense of wittiness. 

At his funeral the pastor said, “Whenever I saw him coming, he always had that “Kenneth grin”. As he entered the hospital, which unexpectedly became the last week of his life, he continued to smile. The day before he left us, a nurse came in and said, “I never got to be your dad’s nurse, but I once came in briefly to assist a coworker. When we moved him, he grimaced from the pain, but after, he looked at me, smiled, and said “thank you. He is the most pleasant man.”

Kind Heart

My daddy also had a big heart. He was perpetually kind: always helping others, expecting nothing in return, and never wanting recognition. He was always ready, willing, and able to assist many widows from church. Free of charge, he cleaned gutters, raked leaves, and did repairs. He even drove one widow to and from her colonoscopy! (See blog: Only Human).

I was at the hospital for his last five days. Covid made things more difficult. I wore a drape, face mask, shield, and gloves, even when sleeping in the chair. With Corona restrictions, I found myself alone with daddy for his last two days. I listened to the constant beeps of machines and the sound of daddy breathing.

Every day the doctor would come in. At first it was always, “It won’t be much longer.” But, daddy’s heart continued to stay solid. The last three times the doctor came in, he would simply state, “That is one strong man”. 

Saturday Nights

Daddy was a hard worker. When not working at the Ford plant, he was outside laboring in the garden or restoring a car. But Saturday evenings were spent with us. My mind drifted to Saturdays long ago. He always washed and waxed the car, so it would be shiny and clean for church the next day. We often helped or washed our bikes beside him. Saturday’s supper was either T-bone steaks, homemade fries, and salad or Chef Boyardee pizza made by me.

We would then all go into the den and watch Hee Haw. After the blonde girl waved saying, “That’s All!”, he would get out his Kiwi shoe shine kit and “get to rubbin” his church shoes until they beamed. Meanwhile, mama rolled my hair with pink sponge rollers. Daddy was not one to read, but every Saturday night, he studied his Sunday School lesson.

When it was time for bed on Saturdays, he would get out the oversized Children’s Bible and let us pick a story. My two brothers and I got in one bed while he read the chosen selection. If it were my turn to pick, I would once again pick Daniel in the Lion’s Den.

When the story was over, we would go to our own beds, and he would tuck each of us in. Daddy would lie down beside me while I said my bedtime prayers. I had to sleep with a vaporizer a lot, but even with it on, I could hear him breathe. I think he occasionally dozed off from the long week of work. Then he’d kiss my forehead and whisper, “Good night, Donnie Boo.” 

As my mind drifted back, I noticed his breaths had become a little labored. He began inhaling and exhaling through his mouth. Now normally, that loud noise might grate on my nerves, but as I curled up in the chair to sleep, I found it comforting. It took me back to those Saturday nights of my childhood. I drifted off to the sound of his breathing, not knowing it would be my last night with him.

Strong Heart

During the next day, I sat in the chair reading a book and grading some tests. Later in the evening while texting a friend, I noticed the rhythm of his breath began to change, so I watched the monitor. His blood pressure and oxygen were going down quickly. A nurse walking by, noticed me standing over him with concerned eyes and entered the room. With a trembling voice I managed to ask, “Is he near passing?” 

She looked at the monitor, “Normally I’d say yes, but although his oxygen and pressure are dropping, his heart rate is still 121. He has a strong heart.”

When she left, I sat down on his bed and watched. The numbers kept going down, but his heart stayed steady. Then it happened. It began dropping too; 90, 89, 88…. At that moment the reality of being alone hit me. It was the loneliest I had ever felt in my life. 

“I don’t want to be here alone.” I texted my friend.

His response was: “You’re not alone. God has chosen you to be there”.

I realized the magnitude of that last statement. I was given the privilege of being with my daddy as he was going home. As I sat down on the bed beside him, I felt at peace. 

Take my Hand

Daddy’s favorite music were hymns, bluegrass, and old country. So, I clicked my Pandora app and selected the Statler Brothers station. I placed my phone on the pillow by his ear. Remarkably, the first song that began to play was Take My Hand, Precious Lord. Sometimes God seems so hidden, but other times He makes His presence clearly known to me. Not only was that the perfect song for the occasion, but it is what was already engraved on his and mama’s headstone. I took off my glove and rubbed his arm as I watched the oxygen and respirations flatline. His pulse was still 80. 

God always knows what I need. As the song ended, my all time favorite, Carrie Underwood’s version of How Great Thou Art, began to play. During this song, I watched his pulse slowly go down, down, down, until it ceased. 

I wasn’t surprised it took so long for his heart to give up; it was always the strongest, biggest part of him. 

Humble and Kind

Recently, I heard the song, Humble and Kind by Tim McGraw. Daddy came to mind. I can just hear him saying so many of these lyrics:

Hold the door, say “please”, say “thank you”

Don’t steal, don’t cheat, and don’t lie

I know you got mountains to climb

But always stay humble and kind

When the dreams you’re dreamin’ come to you

When the work you put in is realized

Let yourself feel the pride

But always stay humble and kind

Don’t expect a free ride from no one

Don’t hold a grudge or a chip and here’s why

Bitterness keeps you from flyin’

Always stay humble and kind

Don’t take for granted the love this life gives you

When you get where you’re goin’ 

Don’t forget turn back around

And help the next one in line

Always stay humble and kind.

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Live for Today: Time is My Friend- by Donna

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Years ago at a family reunion, Karla and I were talking about middle school (which was called junior high then) band and chorus. She was a member of the marching Rebels, playing the mellophone and I was in chorus. Now just because I was a member does not mean I can sing well. But I love music and I love to sing (but only when no one is around). I told her about a song we sang that year called, “Time is My Friend”. She asked me to sing it for her. So, I said I would if no one was around. So we snuck behind the house. After my rendition, she smiled. “Sing it again, it’s beautiful. Please sing it again.” So, I sang it again while she gazed at me like I was Fraulein Maria and she was a Von Trapp child. We still laugh about that moment to this day. It was so stupidly silly. 

Friend or Enemy?

Recently, I wondered if time really is our friend. Maybe it is an enemy. Aging isn’t a fun process. My heart is drawn to elderly people I see when I am out running errands. I see some bent over, trying to walk through the store. Others struggle with their cane across the parking lot or hands shaking uncontrollably as they place their items on the conveyor belt. I watch my daddy with Alzheimer’s as time slowly dissolves pieces of his memory.

My cousin and I went to lunch Sunday. As we enjoyed a three hour meal catching up, inevitably the conversation at one point turned to us pointing out our gray hairs and increased number of wrinkles. We went as far as discussing that we wish we were more fond of needles, because we would be tempted to try Botox! I have another cousin, who is near my age, who is having hip replacement surgery this summer. I finally gave up and got contacts because I was tired of walking around with reading glasses on my head. (Turned out I needed bifocals!) Are we really at this point in life; our bodies going downhill? Moses was lucky. Deuteronomy 34:7, “Moses was a hundred and twenty years old when he died, yet his eyes were not weak nor his strength gone (NIV).

Back in Time

Another reason I wonder if time is a foe is you cannot get it back. My daughter and I went to the Cave Spring park the other day, just to relax and hang out. While she fell asleep under the shade tree, I sat and watched. Several children were wading in the cold creek and a birthday party was taking place under a pavilion. A sadness crept across me. When my children were young, we spent many a day at this park. It was the home of birthday parties, egg hunts, end of year school celebrations, fall festivals for school, jump rope and chorus performances, and the list could go on. I wished I could go back in time. Not just because I miss my kids being young, but because “what could I have done differently?” I watch them as young adults experiencing this new “adulting” stage of life and all its struggles.

My mama always said, “the older you kids get the more I worry about y’all.” At the time I thought “say it isn’t so” as I worried about a swallowed penny, a busted lip, or an infected ear. As usual Mama was correct. I long for the days when they, like the children I was watching, ran barefoot in the creek, splashing, laughing, without a care in the world. But time does not allow us to go backward.

Make the Best Use of Time

Good times or bad–there is no returning. The past can not be changed. Do not let your mind dwell, trying to determine how you could have better prepared them for the challenges of adulthood. This is a waste of time. Reminisce on the good times. Ephesians 5:16 “Making the best use of the time, because the days are evil.”

James 4:13-14 states, “Now listen, you who say, ‘Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money.’ Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.” (NIV)

Look at the time set ahead of you. Thank God for each new day. The time that matters is the moment that is happening now. Make each day count. Let time be your friend. 

Time is My Friend

Time is my friend, for every time we meet

                    the time we spend is tender and sweet.

         Sweet songs to sing and pretty word to rhyme

                    And memories that cling thanks to time

Quiet paths to walk and long talks to talk

     And tall hills to climb and mountains of time

      And then time to go for everything must end

                     I’ll see you soon I know,

                     Knowing time is my friend, my friend.

                                      —Leslie Bricusse

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Pandemic Guidelines: Separated -By Karla

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Graduation Seating

As I looked upon a graduation field, I saw the candidates were adhering to the pandemic guidelines with chairs spaced the correct distance. Noticing the parents in the stands, they were spread appropriately six feet apart too. While the students were presented with their diplomas, I observed the principal and students elbow bump rather than shaking hands. Although their faces were masked, their pride was conveyed in their stride. Only my nephew’s mom and dad were allowed in the stadium. The rest of the family was left watching on a TV in the front yard of my sister’s house with space between our chairs. 

Sci-Fi?

All this separation. I keep feeling like we are in a sci-fi movie. Everyone standing and sitting far from each other adorning masks to block “the sickness”. Every good movie has a villain. In my imagination, this one is a huge metal-made, silver dinosaur-looking monster invading our planet with a virus that will destroy the world as we know it. 

The Real Enemy

Presently, we are guarding ourselves against the enemy, Covid-19. However, how well are we at guarding ourselves against the true enemy, Satan, who comes to steal, kill, and destroy (John 10:10). His desire is to completely separate us from God.

We have all sinned and fallen short of the glory of God, (Romans 3:23), and these sins separate us from God (Isaiah 59:2).

Satan separates us from God by confusing us about what is right and wrong. At times, we let the world’s culture define what is and isn’t sin. Truth is found in God’s word, not trends of the times. How will we know the truth if we spend more time with worldly things than in the presence of God? We don’t get to choose what is sin in God’s eyes, and we cannot rationalize sin into “right”. Oh, we try justifying what we have done by comparing our actions to others’, minimizing its wrongness, avoiding what is true, or blaming our actions on others. However, sin is sin to God! 

Ultimate Separation

Many believe we are Christians because we know who God is, but there is more. God longs for a relationship with us. In Matthew 7:22-23 the ultimate separation is foretold, “Then I will tell them plainly, ‘I never knew you. Away from me, you evildoers!’ 

I don’t know about you, but I am NOT loving this separated life. I miss hugging on my family and patting my students on the shoulder, and I do not like sitting six feet apart and wearing a mask that keeps others from seeing me smile. But when I sin, I am separating myself from God. He cannot hug on me in the way He wants because I have separated myself from Him. God is the one being we do not have to stay 6 feet from, it is our choice as to how close we get to him?

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Adoption: Mother Miracle -By Karla

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My friend Tonya was born with Turner Syndrome, which is a chromosomal abnormality that affects the development in females. Maybe you are like me and had never heard of this condition, but I know you have heard of God. Having a child was impossible, but adoption is God’s miracle.

Miracle Number One: Tonya’s Birth

Approximately ninety-eight of pregnancies with Turner Syndrome abort spontaneously. Tonya was among the two percent!

Physical Features of Turner Syndrome

  • Shorter stature
  • Neck with a webbed appearance and shorter
  • Lower-set ears that often stick out
  • Elbows with a deformity that causes them to turn outward instead of having the ability to lay flat when the arm is straightened
  • Puffy feet and hands
  • Low hairline
  • Upturned finger and toenails
  • High arched palate
  • Receding lower jaw
  • Large pigmented moles
  • Broad shoulders
  • Lessen breast growth

Medical Issues of Turner Syndrome

  • Born with heart defects (often a narrowed section of the aorta)
  • Aorta tearing with age
  • Droopy eyes and cataracts
  • Frequent ear infections that can cause hearing loss
  • Kidney issues due to their horseshoe shape
  • Scoliosis
  • Diabetes
  • Underactive thyroid (often resulting in weight gain or slower weight loss)
  • Blood pressure issues
  • Stomach issues like Crohn’s disease
  • Lack of ovaries

Social Concerns of Turner Syndrome

  • Lack of ability to understand social cues
  • Low self-esteem
  • Struggles with “fitting in

Cognitive Disabilities of Turner Syndrome

  • Spatial misjudgments
  • Nonverbal learning disabilities
  • Developmental delays
  • Possible behavioral problems

Tonya has some of the issues in all the above categories, but like most who have Turner Syndrome, she does not have all. When Tonya was born, doctors told her mom not to expect her to even know what a brush was used for! However, God had other plans for Tonya. I believe that is due to His supreme knowledge. He knew her heart, and He knew how she would use this heart to love others.

Education Miracles

She did know how to use a brush–and so much more! Tonya graduated from high school in 2003. God planted a love for children, so she went to Berry College and received her teaching degree in Early Childhood Education. On her 12th year of teaching, Tonya has positively affected about 900 students. She cares for them as if they were her own. As the years have gone and she has matured as a woman, the desire to be a mom has grown as well.

Miracle of Service

Moving back to her hometown, she began teaching and started serving in her church with children and youth departments. Her sweet little ears went under four surgeries to help their physical appearance and hearing abilities when she was young. As she aged, with the help of a hearing aids, she has listened, heard, and advised many girls, who needed a Christian friend, over the years.

Music Miracle

In addition, she uses her beautiful voice to minister to others. Learning to depend on others to help her in the areas of weakness, she is careful to make sure she is blending with her praise team, singing with a voice that always glorifies the Lord! Her solos leave me inspired.

Humbling to Ask for Help

Often she asks her passengers for parking help; she eases into spots careful not get too close to obstructions. She asks for assistance and reassurance from those she trusts most to compensate in the areas that Turner Syndrome has left its permanence.

About three years ago, Tonya asked me to accompany her in meeting with a Christian adoption agency. They were encouraging, sharing that they accept singles’ applications and thought Tonya would be a good candidate to adopt. Hearing the process, I became hopeful that this could in fact be a reality for Tonya to become a mom!

However, when we left, Tonya and I discussed the money part of adoption and how this would be the biggest obstacle. She reviewed her finances as we ate lunch. Overwhelmed but enthusiastic, we prayed. As the years past, she continued to pray for God’s will and His timing.

Miracle of Love

In July of 2018, Tonya came for a visit with a tone and facial expression that could hardly be contained. Her announcement has become among the most precious miracles I have personally ever seen develop. An older teen-ager, who needed a home was taken in by a family friend. Over the years, she gave birth to a child. The family continued to provide a home for both the girl and her baby. As the girl matured and cared for her own child, she continued to have a steady, loving relationship with the couple who was providing for them.

When her first child was around two, she became pregnant again. Being a loving mother, she knew she could not care for both children. She prayed and sought Godly wisdom. It was then that Tonya’s name entered the scene. The single mother knew in her head and heart that Tonya would be the best mom for her baby. She and the foster family continued to pray as they kept the possibility to themselves. As the days went by, the reality of her baby continued to develop. In the lady’s final trimester, Tonya was asked a question that only a mother, who truly loves her child, would ask.

Would you take my child and raise her as your own?

I worried more than Tonya that the girl might change her mind, and who could blame her! It takes unselfish love to sacrifice for your child.

Tonya shared that she concluded her two choices: Exist with worry for the next twelve weeks living guarded, or freely enjoy every moment on this possible path God was unfolding

So, enjoy she did, going to every doctor’s visit and buying necessities. Praying for the little girl’s lungs to fully develop, her nails to completely form, and perhaps to even find her thumb to suck as she progressed in pounds and length, she delighted. Tonya also prayed for the mother’s health and her emotional well-being. While others worried; she rejoiced for the upcoming birth of a newborn.

Insurance Blessing

Her insurance allowed her to not only have maternity-leave, but they also covered a room at the hospital for Tonya and Baby Evie to share! When she was born, the nurses helped both mom and baby transition and bond.

Walking into the hospital the day after Evie was born, I was the one who could not contain my tone or facial expressions. In fact, the realization of the Lord’s grace left me almost shaking in awe.

Holding little Evie, tears rolled down my face. I look to my precious friend, whose face held the glow of a new mother. While I was comprehending what was taking place, she had already accepted the magnitude of God’s gift that she had been granted.

Delight yourself in the LORD, and he will give you the desires of your heart. Psalms37:4

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you.” Jeremiah 29:11-12

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Perseverance: Where There’s a Will; There’s a Way – By Karla

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Nana’s Perseverance

Like most families, we too have many “famous stories” that have been retold over and over. One of these is the time that we took an impromptu spend the night t Nana’s. Mom didn’t have our gowns stuffed in her pocketbook as she normally did, anticipating that Julie and I would beg to spend the night. When the pleading began, Nana held up her finger indicating she had a brilliant plan and headed to the back of the house. Perseverance! Nana was not going to let a little thing like not having pj’s stop us from staying!

In about five minutes she returned and proudly displayed our make-shift pillowcase gowns! Being a young woman during the depression, she knew how to make things work. Perseverance! She worked until she made a way. She cut two arm holes and a neck hole. Wha-la! Two nightgowns. Julie and I wore them so proudly.

Unplanned Surprise

Last Saturday, I drove to Donna’s in Rome. We went to lunch and ran some errands together. Afterwards, we hung out at her house, doing some writing while we sipped our hot tea. Around five, I started dreading the drive home. It’s only an hour, but it was so yucky outside with the cool damp air. Knowing it would be dark when I got home. I halfway joked and said, “I wish I’d just packed a bag; I could have just gone home early enough to get ready for church.”  

We continued talking until the conversation wrapped around to my first cousin Lucie, who also lives in Rome. Before I put much thought into it, I blurted out, I’d love to surprise her by going to church with her in the morning.  

Donna texted her to make sure she would be at church and mentioned that she was thinking about joining her. Lucie seemed excited, saying she would save Donna a seat.

Dilemma

With that confirmation, I happened to look down to realize what I had on! Sweatpants and tennis shoes. Now, I know that the Lord does not care what a person wears to church, but sometimes I do struggle with not dressing too casually. I grew up wearing my Sunday best.

Donna laughed and said, “Well, I don’t think I can offer you shoes or pants to wear, but I might have a T-shirt you can sleep in.” (Her shoes size is a 61/2 versus my 91/2, and I could not button her pants around me if my life depended on it!)

Perseverance and Ideas

“I’ll go to Walmart in the morning to get another shirt, some leggings, and shoot, some underwear too,” I added as I realized I’d need that as well. “Man, I just broke down and bought new undies last week!”

We wrote and talked and wrote and talked until around eleven. I walked into the bathroom and hollered, “Ugh, got an extra toothbrush?”

“Yep!”

“Face wash?”

“You know I don’t use any, but I’ve got soap,” she unwrapped a new bar.

“Shoot, I don’t have my mouth guard. You know how I clench my teeth at night. Ugh!”

“Don’t have one of those.”

“Man, I don’t have my melatonin to help me sleep.”

“Don’t have that either.”

“Your shirt didn’t fit me!” I yelled into her room and got into bed with the one I had worn for the day.

“I’ll get a pillowcase and the scissors!” she burst in laughter.  

Intentional Perseverance Continued

The next morning I woke to realize I did not have my thyroid medicine with me. Donna hollered that the deodorant was under the cabinet. I soon realized I didn’t have my make-up! What was I thinking? With our totally opposite skin tones, I knew I couldn’t wear Donna’s so I added that to the Wal-mart list. However after some convincing from Donna, I used hers anyway.

As we got ready, we thought about giving Lucie a gift. Donna has a book of questions about yourself. You answer them as a gift for your children. We thought she would enjoy this to share with her grandchildren one day.

Showered and dressed, we headed to Walmart to grab the needed things. We discussed how although there have been times in my past when I have changed in the car, I was probably a little too old to change my panties there. I took everything out of my purse and stuffed in my new clothes as Donna pulled into the parking place at Barnes & Noble. She darted to the shelf she knew housed the desired book as I headed for a stall. (Note to self: when changing clothes in a public restroom, use the larger stall, the one that has a changing table. This will allow a place for the extra pair, so they do not need to be draped around your neck.)

We walked in to Friendship Baptist Church, with a smile on our faces, and were greeted with an even bigger one in return.

  • New shirt at Walmart $8.99
  • New pants at Walmart $14.59
  • New pack of panties at Walmart $12.50

The surprised look on the face of someone you love and have persevered to surprise, priceless!

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9/11: That September Day – By Karla

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Where were you when the world stopped turning that September day?

-Alan JAckson Song

Remembrance of an Answer

I love the question posed by Alan Jackson in his song. That September day I was in my classroom teaching a group of innocent children. During my planning, a co-worker came in and turned on the television. I whirled around from typing an email and froze as I saw the continuous recounts aired. The magnitude of the event was immediately felt.

Fear Brought Unity

At the time, I was married; he was a soldier in the Army Reserves. I instantly felt the sting of what this moment meant. I had lived through Desert Storm as an army wife while he was on active duty. For many months while we lived in Germany, his bags remained packed, and I did not know if he would return home when he left for work every morning. But this time was different. We had two girls, one in kindergarten and one in fourth grade.

In the week or two that followed the attacks, I sensed the fears as did everyone, and the urge for closeness with those we loved most. Like in the lyrics of Jackson’s song, I think many Americans did dust off their Bibles for a time and come together in churches. I vividly remember sermons reminding us that God is in control, and I recall our congregation joining together in prayer while forming a band of unity as we held tightly to each other.

Comings and Goings

In the years that followed, my girls and I said hello and goodbye to their dad often. Sometimes, it was for short period, only a week to a month, but others it was for a year or more. There were times when I had to shield them from noticing angry protesters. They exhibited their right to express themselves, while it cut me deeply to see their lack of support for our family’s sacrifice. But most often, we noticed the honor that others gave to soldiers and their loved ones.

There is a special twinkle in the eyes of children waving a flag as they watch their dads, moms, aunts, uncles, brothers, sisters, and cousins, return home from serving overseas. I have stood in a crowd with all my family together and cried at the joy of another family reuniting.

Responsibility to Remember

I think we have a responsibility to remember 9-11. This weekend I was going through old home movies with the girls. Through the Easter egg hunts, school chorus shows, and Christmas mornings, we found two video clips of where I had taken questions from my students to my nana and my girls’ great-grandpa.

First-Hand Sources

Nana grew up in North Georgia, while Grandpa Harold lived his life in Michigan, New Mexico, and California. Both had such deep sadness when asked about Pearl Harbor and WWII. My students learned more from those two interviews than they from any textbook. One student wanted me to ask them both if they would rather live in today’s world or years ago. Their answers were the same, in fact almost word for word. “Well, you have more conveniences today, but it was better back then. There was less violence, and you spend more time with your family.”

Family Importance

I pondered that thought for a while. If I could choose what stage of life I would like to remain, I think it would be anytime I was surrounded by my family. Though we can’t stay home indefinitely and cling to our family like the song discusses, we can strive toward a simple life to spend more time with our family. For these are the people who love us most and have our true best interest at heart.

My life has changed so much since 9/11 as I have weathered many storms. I wish that we, as a nation, strived to maintain our need for a tighter togetherness. Sadly, I believe we laid our Bibles back on the shelf to collect dust all too quickly.

Peace from God

This morning my quiet time began with Psalm 62:1-2. In all the changes that have occurred since the morning of 9/11, I can say these verses have held true for me. I wish that America could keep these truths, which we so dearly clung to that September day, and act upon them in our daily lives.

Truly my soul finds rest in God;

my salvation comes from Him.

Truly He is my rock and my salvation;

He is my fortress, I will never be shaken.

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July 4th 1976: The Bicentennial -By Karla

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The Twin Cities

Copperhill, Tennessee and McCaysville, Georgia weren’t really cities at all, but special little towns where I grew up. One of the coolest things is the fact that a person can stand on a bridge in Georgia and look at a bridge in Tennessee, which is only about 50 yards apart. I lived about five miles from McCaysville while my daddy’s pharmacy, Tallent Drugs, was over the Tennessee state line, by the other bridge. Mom was always trying to explain why she had a Georgia driver’s license, but had a Tennessee Post Office address. Both towns were thriving at that time due to the Tennessee Copper Company. The Bicentennial Fourth of July was the best!

Bicentennial Celebration

Max Dillard (Daddy) and Mr. Lee Ross Buttram

The festivities lasted all week long! As a nine-year-old kid, I am sure I did not notice much of the planning the town or mom put into the week, except for my dress. My great Aunt Dot had a sewing shop on the Tennessee side.

As the weeks led up to that July in 1976, Mom and Aunt Dot planned our family’s costumes. Julie and I had colonial, pale blue dresses complete with bonnets while Lynn and Gail wore fancy dresses that matched. Mom’s was more common with a black bonnet. Daddy grew a full beard, the only time in his life that I know about. He wore a white shirt with red suspenders, a black derby hat, and strolled around the drugstore with a corn cob pipe in his mouth.

Bicentennial Jail

Really, everyone in town wore a costume!  If you walked into Buttram’s Hardware, (owned by our neighbors’ family; More Than a Teacher Blog), McCaysville Drugs (owned my childhood best friend’s dad), or any of the businesses on the few blocks that consisted of the twin cities, you would have seen everyone dressed up. In fact, if you weren’t wearing a costume, you could be arrested and put into the wooden makeshift jail in the middle of town! A standard bail was set for anyone “arrested”. I’m guessing the money collected was used to finance the local fireworks. I bet Mom was either having the time of her life strolling the four of us around town, or we were driving her crazy because she was afraid we would rip our skirt tails when we could get excited and start to run.

During the week of the fourth, I called the bank to report the temperature to mom.

Come as you are,
bank from your car
at Ducktown Banking Company.  
The time is….
The temperature is…

(Thinking back, I believe drive-through banking must have been new in our area. It is funny to me that I can remember this jingle, but cannot find my car keys or phone on a daily basis.)

As I put the receiver back on the rotary beige base, it rang. Someone called to share Daddy had been arrested. I ran for Mom to pick up the kitchen phone, which hung on the wall. I was not happy, and Mom must have sensed my uneasiness. She had to remind me, “The arrest is all in fun, Karla. Your dad must have taken his hat off.  But go get Julie, and get y’all’s shoes on. We have to go bail him out,” she laughed.

Bicentennial Parade

Most years before, Julie and I had watched the parade from the vacant rooms above the M & J grocery store. But this year, the creators of the parade added a “walk with your dog” section.

As the fourth neared, I continued to beg Mom to let me march in the parade with my dachshund Barney. I must have put up a good fight or wore her down, because against her better judgement, I was among the other parade members, standing near Hyde’s Chrysler Plymouth awaiting our signal to begin.

Bicentennial Regret

Being that it was the Bicentennial, there were cannons in the parade also. My poor dog Barney. He hadn’t volunteered to be in the parade. His whole little body shook in terror as the cannons were booming. I stood in total regret. I do believe it was the first of several times I can vividly remember wishing I had listened to Mom! To my recollection it was the only time I ever said the prayer, “God, if you will just let me get through this, I promise….“

After what seemed to take forever, we got in parade formation and moved forward. Barney’s little legs couldn’t keep up, so I picked him up in front of The New Yorker restaurant, which by the way had the best grilled cheese and homemade chocolate milkshakes!

As we passed Tallent Drugstore, I saw Mom standing with Julie. Man, I tried as hard as I could to look like I was having fun! But, I don’t think I fooled her. Barney was still shaking when we passed Maloof’s. He walked on his leash for a few minutes until another boom was set off, and I picked him up rounding the corner near the A&P and Arp’s restaurant, carrying him the rest of the way. I do not remember any pleasurable moment except the completion when I happily found Mom to take Barney home!

Bicentennial Fireworks

Later that night, my family gathered with friends by the river, sitting in those scratchy, woven-strapped lawn chairs. We ate snacks (probably from Hickory Farms), laughed, and visited. The week was winding down, but not the memories that I hold so dear in my heart.

Small town Fourth of July’s are the best! There’s not many people who can say, “I watched the fireworks with my family and friends as they were shot off Tater Hill!”

Enjoy a video of the history of Copperhill!

(I do not own the rights to this video. Found on YouTube: Thomas King)

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Legacy: A Classic- by Donna

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A Classic- by Donna

In my college days, a guy said to me, “You’re a classic.” Having a daddy who restores antique cars, I knew that was a compliment. A week ago today, we lost a classic. Ezzie Holdbrooks, age 98, passed away. We all called her Mamaw. The definition of classic is “judged over a period of time to be of the highest quality and outstanding of its kind.”  Mamaw was that and more.

Mamaw loved everyone, and she let them know it. Even in the days of technology, she wrote letters and cards to people weekly. Each one signed, “I love you and God loves you too.” She had that unconditional love. It didn’t matter who you were; she cared for you. Mamaw’s love came from knowing God. She knew his love and passed it on to others. Mamaw was the chosen “grace” sayer in the family.  Anytime we had a family gathering, big or small, she blessed the meal. The words varied, but it always ended the same. “…and most of all, we thank you for your love.”

“I Tell You”

Ninety-eight years, Wow!  Imagine all she has seen in her lifetime. The world is so different now. She loved to tell stories about the olden days. My children often mimicked her, “I tell you…” beginning of a story. She often told how hard she worked as a young girl picking cotton and how her hands ached, and how they traveled in a horse drawn cart.

The Best Babysitter

Mamaw was an awesome baby sitter. My kids loved staying there because she joined in their fun and entertained them.  Emily had an imaginary friend named Michael when she was two. One day when I went to pick her up, I walked into the den and peeked around the corner.  Mamaw had Emily by the hand and was calling loudly, “Michael, Michael, where are you? Michael, where are you hiding?” Emily was grinning from ear to ear as they went from room to room looking in closets, under beds, and behind curtains for her imaginary friend.

Papaw (her husband) had died in the early nineties. So she spent many years single. She loved the Halloween season when she could get out her rocking chair witch. It had a motion sensor and it would periodically begin rocking and laughing. She said it kept her company. Travis was afraid of it, so when he came over, she hid it in the closet. With Travis being so quiet, she catered to his needs. She had a bond with him and knew what he needed without him having to voice it.

When Tucker was about two, I came to pick him up from Mamaw’s. ‘I tell you’,  he and Mamaw were cutting patches of the grass with scissors. I stood there amused at the two of them squatting down, clipping away.  Looking at me she said, “Well, he wanted to cut the grass!” She was that way with all her great-grandchildren. She knew them well and attended to their different personalities and needs.

A Good Person

One day, probably twenty years ago, I was having a conversation with someone who was not a church-goer.  They were questioning the Bible. He asked me, “The ten commandments are the rules you should follow, but does the Bible even tell you what kind of person you are suppose to be, besides ‘good’?”  I replied, “Yes, you should have the fruits of the spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.” He looked at me saying, “I only know one person in this world who is all that, and it’s Mamaw.”  No truer words could be said.

As a grandson said at her funeral (and I’m paraphrasing), “She isn’t gone. She is here now and will always be here” and he pointed to the grandchildren and great-grandchildren “because a part of her is in all those she loved.”  

Because she took the time to be a part of their lives, to love them and show them God’s love, her legacy will live on.

Ezzie Augusta Fuller Holdbrooks

 April 1, 1920-April 12, 2018

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Influence: Hand-Me-Down Genes -By Donna

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While walking down the hallway with my kindergarteners yesterday, a little girls grabbed my hand, looked up at me, and said, “Mrs. Tumlins, teach me to be just like you.” I laughed to myself and thought, Why would you want to be like me? Then I thought, who am I really? What makes me, me?

I came to the conclusion that  I am a bunch of hand-me-down genes. They say I look like my great-grandmother on my mother’s side. I have her olive complexion and dark hair. But others say I look like my Aunt Hattie on my daddy’s side. I know I have my mama’s pointy nose and small stature. The dimple on my daddy’s chin also graces my face.

Personality wise, I have my daddy’s easy-going temperament. My mother’s feisty disposition is buried deep inside me and rarely gets to rear its head. I am not sure where my quiet side came from, but I think I was given a double dose.  

My granddaddy was a school teacher and loved children. I follow in his footsteps. My grandmother loved to read and write, as do I.  She was always humming a tune in the kitchen, and there is always a song in my head.  

Humor? Well I believe that comes from almost every single member of the family, as does the love of food. I have a plethora of good cooks in my extended family. My compassion for animals may come from my Uncle Lynn. Being kind to all people, maybe Aunt Marlene. The desire to do for others, Aunt Kathy. And well, Aunt Carol, I too enjoy acting like a fool when I am with those I love

Influence

Over the years, my genes were influenced by my families’ behaviors.There are some things about me I was not born with, but have learned from my family over the years. Kathryn, Karla’s mom, influenced me to always look my best. I never saw her looking slouchy. Even when she was ready for bed, she was dressed to a T, in her satin pajamas. I have surprised people with my knowledge about car parts, thanks to countless hours watching and listening to my daddy. And I know a lot about clothes, from the material to the stitching. I think my mom could have sewn the Emperor’s New Clothes.   

However, my family members failed to pass down musical talent to me. I missed that gene. I sit at family reunions and listen to the banjo, guitar, harmonica, spoons, piano, and other instruments wishing I could play. But what they didn’t fail me at was planting the seeds of faith in my heart. Generation after generation passed down their faith in God.


To my little student I could say, “to teach you to be like me would be impossible. I am one of kind. God made me and surrounded me by people to mold me into who I am today. How lucky I am.”

And thank goodness, they handed down their genes and not that bonnet!!




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The Christmas Gift -By Karla

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Making Time

The presents are wrapped, even though I cut the paper too short on every singe present! Many gifts were exchanged during the second weekend of December, Christmas at Nana’s. With the girls being older and our adapted-in-family, schedules are often busy. So, we had another Christmas last Sunday in my small and cozy living room before the cantata at church.

Allowing Changes to Enter the Scene

Today, I wrapped the last batch of gifts for Christmas morning with Rachel, my youngest daughter.  Over the years, I have learned that the garland may be draped in different places, and that it is even ok if it does not even grace a banister. I have grown to understand that Christmas day does not have to be the only day that presents can be exchanged.

Remembering a Christmas when my tree stayed up until February, I thought of the family member, who returned home from serving in Kuwait.

I smile at the simple text I received: “I am sorry there will not be a present in the mail. Remember though that you will always be our daughter.” For I know, that the words, “You will always be our daughter” is a gift.

Over the years, the rituals have changed locations and dates. Some activities have faded while others have developed.

The True Meaning

But, the tradition of Christmas will never change in my heart. God sent His own son to fulfill the prophecy of the Old Testament. For He, the one true King, was born in a humble stable to change the world.  He gave me, and you, the ultimate gift: dying on the Cross for my sin and yours.

In the Upcoming Years

At 50, I hope to have many Christmases to come. I want to share hot chocolate with present and future loved ones. It is my desire to wrap Christmas presents (hoping to measure the paper the right size) for many decades and watch the delight of others as they open boxes. I love the cookie-making and other baking traditions.

Without you, all the decorations are cold and without meaning. Truly, I long to keep one tradition sacred!  Help me, Lord, to always keep your love and your awesome gift in the forefront of my heart, continuing to share with others no matter the date or location. 

-Karla

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