dearanonymousfriend

Ramblings from a would be writer

Baseball Adventure…

I was born and raised in Northwestern Pennsylvania.  Since this is a fact, I also was raised to believe that I am a fan of three teams ~ Pittsburgh Steelers, Pittsburgh Penguins,  and Pittsburgh Pirates.   I am perfectly fine with this.  All three teams are excellent teams and deserve my fandom (is that a correct word?).

Now, I have never been to a Steelers game, although I would love to someday.  I have gone to a Penguins game and loved every minute of it.  Nothing has truly compared to  that hockey game for me, it was magical!

My first professional baseball game that I went to was in November of 1978.  I was seven months pregnant and a group of us took the train and bus up to Yokohama, Japan.  We sat on wooden bleachers to watch the Yokohama Whales play the Cincinati Reds.  We basically tail-gated by taking thermoses filled with hot chocolate and picnics of American food that we would get if we were in country.  It was my first baseball game ever.  Not one of my finest moments though, as in the bottom of the third inning I asked when the game was going to start.  Everyone turned to look at me, and without thinking I said, well, they haven’t sang the National Anthem yet…   Yes, it was not one of my finest moments, I chalk it up to pregnancy brain…   I thought that this was going to be my only time seeing a baseball game, and I carefully tucked the memory away so that it could be remembered always.

A few years later, we moved to San Diego.  San Diego, the home of the San Diego Padres.  This is where my love of baseball really came to be.  I do not follow the stats.  I wouldn’t know an error if I saw one (which, by the way, I know I have seen several in my life)  I can follow RBI’s, but I can’t explain it to anyone.  All I know is, I love the game.  I love watching the players,  I love the atmosphere of the game, I love the crowds, I love baseball.  I especially love the Padres.

Padres games fill the memories of raising our family.  We would go several times a summer to see our boys play.  When the girls were young we got the cheap military seats in the nosebleed section of the stadium.  We would smuggle food in so that we could eat during the games, since buying the family tickets was close to breaking the bank at that point.  I remember holding our youngest on my lap as she would cheer for her favorite, Tony Gwynn.   The girls grew up watching the Padres.  Our seats changed through the years, as did they.  One of the last things we did as a family was a ball game together.  I love my San Diego team.

We lived in San Diego for 27 years.  During all that time I never saw my Padres play the Pirates (who remain my 1.5 favorite).  I don’t know why I never did, but, I didn’t.  I know hubby took his father to a Pirate/Padre game one year, but it was just the two of them who went and I stayed home watching and listening on t.v..   I never missed an opening game, I would make certain I was watching on t.v. or listening to the radio.  I never did make it to an opening day, as that was when school was still in session for the girls and once they graduated, I was just in the habit of catching it like I always did.

Three years ago I went to my first Pittsburgh Pirates game.  We were in our hometown and we went with our friends.  I was so excited to see them play for the first time.  We had since moved from San Diego and I had not seen a ball game in five years at that time.  The Pirates lost that game, but it did not diminish the thrill of seeing them.   It was a childhood dream come true for me.

So, when we knew we were going to be home this summer, I went online to see the Pirates schedule.  In our time frame of being here, we would not be able to see a Pirates game since they would be on the road.  I was disappointed, but, I did realize that the Pirates would be in San Diego.  I packed my Padres shirt.  I knew I could watch it on t.v. (hubby and I do not have sports packages on our t.v. at home).    Last week I donned my shirt and watched as the Padres beat the Pirates two games.  I was a happy girl.

During those games there were advertisements for the games this current weekend. The Pirates would be home and they would be playing the Padres.   But, we would be on our way home by then, or so we thought.  Our trip was delayed and last night, after all these years, I got to see my favorite team play my next favorite team!

I proudly wore my San Diego shirt (I counted and saw three other shirts!).  I was so thrilled to see my team on the field!   They scored first and I smiled.  They ended up losing the game, but that did not matter to me.  I don’t know if I will have a chance to see them live again, but, for now, my heart is content.  I saw my Padres play.

This of course was an adventure in itself, as there was a rain delay of two hours before the game started, so, from 7:05 to 9:05 we waited.  The time was spent watching those in the good (uncovered) seats scramble out of the rain,  watched the rain, looked at the lightning and talked with our forever friends. The time passed quickly and the game ended around 12:30 a.m..  We of course, stayed to the end, not that we are that die-hard fans, but there was a concert following the game.  We saw Chicago perform.  The concert started shortly after 1 a.m., and it was incredible!

We returned to the house around 3 this morning.  I was a great adventure. one that I won’t soon forget.  Together with lifetime friends, we laughed and talked and yes, she and I even cried…  even though “There’s no crying in baseball.”

Thanks for stopping by…  Cathi (DAF)

 

 

 

 

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Lunch with a Friend…

As I mentioned in my previous post, a little over 42 years ago I left home.  Home, as in my hometown.  The past few weeks  we have been staying with close friends who are, in reality, family to us.

A couple of weeks ago, I had an opportunity to spend the day with my forever friend.  I haven’t had a day like this in a very long time.  It was wonderful.  She had an appointment in the morning, so I tagged along and after that we were on our own, a dangerous thought, considering how long we have known each other and, also, being left to our own devices with our husbands safely ensconced in their house.

Most of the time I do not think about having a girl’s day out with a friend.  It is something that I rarely have the opportunity to do anymore, so I tend to not think about it.  However when I do have the chance it is a gift to me.

We had lunch, tea, chicken salad on croissants, potato salad and conversation that you can only have with someone you have known since kindergarten.   From there we went to an antique shop.  To some, a mundane day.  To me, a day that makes memories to cherish forever.

I write about friendships often, for they are important to me.  Friendships are like the seasons of the year… they can change, they can be challenged, they can grow, or they can lay dormant.  But, true friendships can survive all of the changes.  They can weather storms of life and temperaments.  They can produce conversations that are both difficult and healing to each party, they are a gift.

During this time my friend and I have laughed and cried and cried some more.  We have giggled like we did in high school, we have shared memories that neither of us have heard before.  We have been friends.

Also throughout this time, I have heard from friends who are not in the vicinity, friends who are close to our current home, or friends who are always there.   These women have called and checked in and kept me in their hearts.  For these women, I am so grateful.

Friendship is a dear gift, one that too often we take for granted.  Today, I want to acknowledge these women, they are my strength, my joy and my heart.

Thank you for stopping by ….  Cathi (DAF)

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One Liners…

Last night while on Facebook, there was a post that caught my eye.  I actually ended up sharing it.   The meme asked to name a movie quote that gives away the title without actually mentioning it.

It was fun to read the comments and I realized reading these one liners made me smile.  Made me smile and remember.  Times of our lives are marked by movies and by music.

As I read comments, memories of where I was and who I was with came into my mind. It is an interesting journey when you stop and think of things like this.  Someone mentioned the need for speed.  Of course, that is Top Gun.  Great movie for eye candy there.  It’s amazing any lines were remembered by women.  Hubby and I saw that movie after a get away to a bed and breakfast in the mountains in San Diego.  We had a nice breakfast and were lingering over the table talking to each other and to the owner of the bed and breakfast.  She asked what we had planned next and we realized that we had planned on going to a movie that started in thirty minutes and we were forty minutes away.  We grabbed our bags and threw them into our car and raced down the mountain.  Luckily the highway patrol was nowhere to be found and we actually had time to get popcorn and find a seat and see some of the previews.  I will always remember that time.  I think my heart was racing so hard from the trip down the mountain that the scenes in the movie were easy to take.

I was amazed at the response this post got on Facebook.  But, as I mentioned before, people begin to think of favorite lines of movies and it begins memories of several other movies.  Those that we remember lines from, are those closely tied to events, times and people in our lives.  They were usually the great movies we have seen, not those that we struggle to remember the name of the movie we saw last week.

Some of my fondest memories are those I have of watching movies with my girls and hubby.  Those are the times we have snuggled on couches under blankets, eating popcorn and junk food while suspending reality for a few hours.

What are some of your favorite movies?   I love Hook, Beauty and the Beast, all the Pride and Prejudice, Little Women, most of the old musicals, and the list could go on and on.

How about you?  Thanks for stopping by today.  Cathi (DAF)

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Life Goes On…

This week saw news of celebrity deaths almost daily.  From my childhood the actor who played Grizzly Adams passed away.  Thought of Saturday evenings in my pajamas, freshly bathed and ready for church flashed through my mind.

David Bowie, my teen years, admiring his artistry, but, not really a fan.  But, his passing was sad.  Knowing that his music will never be fresh from his creativity.  I was saddened to hear that cancer took his life.

Alan Rickman, I will miss.  His characters were all people I either loved to hate, or I just loved.   I enjoyed the movies he made, and the characters he brought to life, he was a gifted actor and I am sad that I will no longer see new work from him.

All the families and friends of these people are in mourning.  We, as a public can read and feel some emotion and then go on with our lives.

Wednesday of this week there was another death I read about.  It is not one that was broadcast nationally.  I first found out on Facebook.  This death hit me hard and made me realize how very precious each life is.  The person who died was a two-year old boy.  I met his parents at a function this past fall.  They were in town from Michigan for a ministry they have started that raises funds for families hit by devastating illnesses.

We were relatively new to the community when we attended this evening.  We saw and met this couple and knew that they had children running around, but we actually did not know whose children were whose.  It was just a fun night.

Last month some friends from our church did a surprise trip to Michigan to see this couple.  They went up to celebrate the final adoption of a little boy this couple had fostered.  I looked at the pictures of this child.  There were smiles all around.  You just felt good looking at these pictures.  You knew it was a blessing in so many ways.

Wednesday afternoon this little boy was put down for a nap.  A nap he did not wake up from.  Today, I watched the funeral on a live stream.  Eloquent words were spoken, and emotions were obvious.   The parents were surrounded by people loving them, praying with them and supporting them.

I know they need all the support they can get now.  Their world is rocked to the core.  But, one thing was spoken during the service today that resonated deep within me.  One of the pastors stated that, and I know I will say it wrong, but basically he said, that this boy lived his whole life.  Even though his whole life was only two years.

He had lived his life.  His life touched people.  His life touched me and I just saw him one evening running around with several other children.  This got me thinking today, how much is my life touching others?

I started this post out talking about celebrities.  Their lives touched others though music, entertainment, movies.  They touched others in their personal lives.  Things we will never know about.  Their families too, are rocked to the core of their beings.   This little boy touched many people, all whom spoke and speak of his smile and his joy of life.

Life is precious.  Each day I am alive I realize a bit more how precious life is.  Since Wednesday all I have wanted to do is hug my grandchildren just to make certain they are okay.  I want to take time to chat with friends.  I want to make certain that, when it is time for me to meet the Lord that I will have touched and ministered to others who will be here.

Thanks for stopping by today and reading.  I do so appreciate it.  DAF

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Reality check….

The first week of July was a hard time for me.  Yes, we had just moved and getting settled was (and is) taking longer than I expected, but, there were other things happening that got to me.

The first Sunday of the month, we went to church, and came home, and as is normal, I went online and checked Facebook to see what was going on.  An acquaintance of mine, that I have actually known since kindergarten had several comments on her page.  None of them were normal.  There were no snide remarks or no humor.  There were condolences.  My husband’s cousin, who is also a mutual friend wrote to ask what was going on.  Together, we wrote back and forth until we discovered what was happening.  This acquaintance had lost her husband very suddenly to a heart attack.  I knew of him, but did not know him personally.  I read his obituary and realized he was two weeks younger than me.  This hit me hard.  Like hit me in the gut and have me double over hard.  It still bothers me and my heart goes out to this woman who is grieving, rightly so.

The following day I wrote a message to another friend on Facebook.  We also have known each other since kindergarten.  We were neighbors and played with one another.  We caught bees in jars and played on her swing set.  We played when she got the mumps, so that I would catch them and get it over.  (I never caught them)  We drifted apart through high school and reconnected about 20 years ago at our husband’s class reunion.  We have chatted online often since then.  Anyhow, this friend had been on my mind and so I wrote to see how she was.  She wrote back.  She is undergoing chemotherapy for a bout with cancer.

For the second day in a row, I felt like I had been punched in the stomach.

Since then I have thought about life.  I have thought about relationships.  Both are fragile and both can be gone in an instant.  I confess it took several weeks for me to get out of the funk that I went to after hearing the news of those two days.  But, what has surfaced from those two stomach wrenching days is a renewed appreciation for today.  Taking each day as the gift it is.  We are not promised tomorrow.

I have yet another friend on Facebook and each morning she posts, “I am glad to be on my feet today.”  That is how I am feeling lately.  I am glad to be on my feet.  I am glad to have this beautiful unsettled home.  I am glad for my hubby.  Glad that he makes me smile and makes me roll my eyes by some of the things he says and does.  I am thankful for another day with my puppy.  We didn’t think we would have him past the day we took him to the hospital, and he is still here, giving me doggy smiles and nose hugs.

Yes, life is good and sometimes we need to be reminded just how good it is.    Speaking of good…  I am planning on having a guest blogger soon….  I am excited about this.   More to come later.  Thanks for stopping by… DAF

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At Long Last… Home…

Home is where the heart can laugh without shyness.

Home is where the heart’s tears can dry at their own pace. ~Vernon Baker

We lived in Downeast Maine during the last year of the 70’s and the beginning of the 80’s.  We had been married five years.

There was another young mother who had a daughter the same age as our oldest.  Several times a week we would put the girls in their strollers and we would walk through the little village of Winter Harbor and climb the hill to walk around Grindstone Neck.  An area that is filled with mansions with large beautiful windows and curving driveways and plush lawns.

We would push our strollers and gaze at these homes.  We would mention what we had heard in passing.  Who lived there, who rented there.  There was one home that had a breakfast nook that overlooked the road.  There were lacy curtains and you could see the breakfast table sitting in the window.  We would both say that one day, we would have a home with a bump out like that.  We would sit in our beautiful bathrobe and eat a soft-boiled egg in an egg cup.  We thought this would be heaven since neither of us had the time to eat a warm piece of toast with our toddlers.

After my morning walks, I would often meet with a couple of other women from the housing area.  One being Little Man’s Nana.  We would sit over tea cups and talk about the day when we would each have our own home.  A home that was not painted Navy gray.  We would sit and dream of sidewalks for our kids to roller skate on or ride their bikes on.  We would dream of being able to paint each room whatever color we felt like.  We talked about having our own yards and plants.

Through the years I have dreamed of a perfect home.  When I was younger, I always wanted a wishing well in the front yard.  I had seen one in one of the housing units on base.  I thought it was wonderful.   I always wanted that bumped out window.  I liked Palladium windows also.  Gazebos were also something I thought would be great.  They look like a fun place to visit.  Flowers, trees, yards, benches, and more trees.  Ah… that would be ideal.

Hubby and I have long thought about the time when we would buy our house to grow old in.  We have talked so much about what we would love to have.  We usually laughed and sighed and admitted that it was up to the Lord as to what He wanted us to have and where He would like us to be.

This past January we traveled up to the upstate region of South Carolina.  We began to look at places we had seen online.  We met with a realtor and he showed us several places.  None of them worked.  None of them sparked in us what we knew would be “the” place.

In February, our realtor called and said he had just been asked to list a property.  He said he thought he had found ‘our’ place, and would we come up to look at it.  So, we packed the dog and the car and headed up once more.

We programmed the address into our gps and drove to the place just to get a sneak peek.  We drove past nice homes, and old broken down barns.  We passed silos covered with ivy and more homes.  We turned onto the street and turned up the driveway.  We parked the car and looked at each other.  We smiled.

The next day the realtor took us inside this place.  We spent two and half hours poking around this place and property.  We smiled more.  We began to think we had found our place.

We returned home, put in an offer and after a brief negotiation, we started the paperwork.  This past Friday we signed the papers and were handed the key to our new home.

As I sat at the lawyer’s table looking at the key, I commented that this little piece of metal represented so much to us.  We spent the weekend there.  We had two camping chairs, the dog’s bed, and an air mattress.  We had the best time!  We worked hard and are tired, but, it is home.  It is filled with a peace that confounds us.

And yes, having taken an inventory of my memories that I have just shared, this house has them all.  A wishing well is standing at the corner of the driveway, complete with a handle that moves.  It houses a hose for watering that part of the yard.  A gazebo graces the front yard, it needs a coat of paint, but, it is going to be a wonderful stage for Little Man and Little Miss to perform on, and it will be a place to sit and sip and talk.   The big palladium window graces the front of the house and it is a modified Cape Cod style that I have always loved.  There is a bump out breakfast area in our kitchen.  I can sit there and watch the birds and the bees pollinate the flowers surrounding the home.  A screen porch overlooks the pool and beyond that is a yard that is surrounded by a couple of acres of trees and a stream.

We are blessed beyond measure.  I am humbled that through my life the little things that I silently mentioned to the Lord He gave to me.  Things that I thought were so far out of the realm of the possible for me have been given to me.  I walked through the house yesterday before we left.  I thanked the Lord for the gift of the house and I prayed for each room.  My prayer now is that this home will be a place of rest, not only for us, but for anyone who needs to  regroup and be restored.

We will be in our rental for another couple of weeks while we paint and do some other things in our new home, and finish getting some things done here in the rental, but, I know hubby and I left our heart in our new home already.

Thanks for stopping by today…  DAF

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Some Days Just Hit You…

Today I had an interesting day.  It started out pretty normal, making fresh juice and coffee.

Hubby has been working on his car, his baby, for the past couple of weeks.  From what he is talking about, I expect it will act like a brand new car and drive incredibly well and be fast.  Of course, it was fast before, and there are claw marks in the dash from me trying to drag my feet, but that is another story.

Hubby went to the shop to work on his car and I proceeded to pack some more boxes and go about my day.  I did manage to get a few more things packed and realized I am very close to being done.  A great feeling for me.

But, what is interesting for me today is the scope of things and people I have talked with today, either on phone, or via Skype or via Facebook.  It was a day that, when it is over, you go, “hmm, what a good time I have had today.”

I had someone talk to me about some issues pressing in on them.  Minor things, but, nevertheless, even minor things can weigh heavy on hearts.  I was blessed that they thought of me to talk with.  I am hoping I, in turn, blessed them.

A friend of mine became a grandparent for the first time.  I am so happy for her and we somehow ended up not fully connecting, but I was able to let her know how thrilled I am for her.  I know this child will be so loved by this woman.  This child will learn much from my friend, she will learn to laugh, to explore, and to love.  This child is so fortunate to be able to call my friend grandma.

Another friend just needed to vent.  I love our venting conversations.  They are honest and full of opinions and laughter and tears.  We talk for long times together, it just works out that way, and even though this conversation was filled with the frustration of the past couple of days, I hung up feeling better in just hearing her voice.

I was able to see Little Man and Little Miss via Skype today.  They make my heart glad.  I love my conversations with Little Man and when he tells me to have a good rest of the day and tells me he loves me, well, that’s the best thing in the entire world for me.

By this time, it was evening, actually night-time.  I answered a couple of more messages and thought over the day.

Throughout this day I also thought of my sister and her family.  Tomorrow marks the anniversary of my brother in law’s death. She mentioned on Facebook tonight about how she feels about the day today and tomorrow.  I admire her in so many ways.  I shed tears in thinking of all she has gone through and yet, she remains the encourager and strength for her family and me.

Days filled like today are few.  So often we go about our days not noticing the life that surrounds us.  I do that often.  Today, lives touched mine.  My heart is full as I write this, and my mind is filled with memories.    I just had to share that.

Thanks for stopping by…. DAF

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Happy St Patrick’s Day!

This is always a fun day.  I have never gone out and celebrated the day with a bar crawl or anything, but it is still a great day.

I was born into an Irish family.  Our family really hasn’t been in America that long.  I love that fact.  We were raised to be proud of our Irish ancestry.  And, we are.

In our small town there was a north side, south side and the east and west end.  The ends we didn’t pay much attention to, but the North side hailed a few more Irish families and the South side more Italians.  I was raised in the Catholic faith, went to a Catholic school for the first eight years of schooling.

There were three Catholic schools in our town.  There was one on the south side, and two on the north side of town.  From what I have just said, it seems the Italian kids went to the school on the south side and that left the rest of the Catholic kids to the other two schools.  One of the schools was in an area called Palace Hill, we had another name for the hillside, but, I won’t write it here.  This hill was inhabited by mostly Polish families.  It was a wonderful place, and the food that you could smell and get there, Wow!

Anyhow, I digress.  The other Catholic elementary school was St. Joseph’s.  Or, as we called it, St Joes.  It was where the ‘Mick’ kids went.  I went there, for eight years, some wonderful, some, well let’s just say, below par.

Today, I thought of all of this.  I do every year.  We did not grow up in a generation that pinched you if you did not wear green on St. Patrick’s day.  Then, only the Irish wore green.  It was not  a national thing for everyone and their brother to wear green.  So, each year, with my navy blue wool uniform, I would don a pin or a green sweater and knee socks and head to school.  The Polish kids always wore red on St Patrick’s day.  So, at lunch break, here I would be, in my green at my Irish school.  You could always pick me out. I was the tall Irish girl standing in the middle of a sea of red, with my closest friends by the last names of Dolecki, Brzezinski, and Zimoski….  Those are my fond memories of St. Patrick’s day.

I leave you now with my favorite version of the Irish Blessing:

May the Road rise up to meet you.

May the Wind be always at your back.

May you be in Heaven a half hour before

The devil knows you are dead.

Have a wonderful day today, DAF

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Love and High School Friends.

When Little Man’s Momma was in high school, she had two very close friends.  The three of them were together through the last couple of  years of high school.  They would go to the dances together, spend weekends together, spend summers together.  They were fun and truly were three amigos.

During the summer before their senior year in high school, I got them each a charm bracelet.   I got three charms exactly alike.  I did this a few times during their senior year.  They each attended local universities, so they would get together during college years, although, it was not a regular time together.  By their senior year in college, they hardly saw one another as a group, but they had their memories of the times they had spent together.

When our daughter got married, one of the girls came.  She spent the time with us and we had a great time reconnecting.  Two days after my daughter’s wedding, she got engaged.  Thus began of time of reconnecting, not only with this one girl, but also with the third amigo.  All three girls married the same year.  I attended a party and both of the girls were there (our daughter was then with her hubby across the country).  At the party I gave the last of the same charms to the girls.  It was fun for me.

Now, that was five years ago.   This past week one of the girls flew and spent some time with our daughter.  She got to meet Little Man and catch up on a friendship.  I have no idea how the visit went, except for the pictures that have appeared on Facebook.  She also posted two videos of Little Man, which I have played over and over.

Friendship is a gift.  Sometimes we meet people in our youth and then lose contact with them and are left with only memories of the times spent together.    I prayed for forever friends for my daughters.  Those friends whom you can be with and continue conversations that started years ago.

Sometimes, though, the conversations started years ago can be interrupted with life and turmoil.  Major events happen and change lives.  This is the case with the two girls that reconnected this week in Little Man’s home.   I hope, though, that this week was a week of  revival for this friendship.

So, today, I think of the three young girls in high school.  I hear the echoes of their laughter and remember the antics that went on.  I think of the three of them today, two of them busy mothers and teachers, the third a busy wife and business person.   I know that the three of them will be forever friends.  Going through life’s adventure, being able to share some of it, and going alone through other events.   They are gifts to each other, and I had the blessing of seeing them from the beginning.

“Friends love through all kinds of weather, and families stick together in all kinds of trouble.”  (Prov. 17:17) The Message

Thanks for stopping by today.  DAF

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On Missing a Way of Life… 31 Days of Observing…

31 Days Observing  
This morning I spent some time reading posts on my Reader section.   There was a post from Adopting James titled “We Know Jack”  (http://adoptingjames.wordpress.com/2013/10/18/we-know-jack/).
It was about the movie “The Nightmare Before Christmas”  (Tim Burton’s 1993 movie).   It was a great post to read, but what it did was transport me to Disneyland.  I could see the decorations that grace the Haunted Mansion in the park from Halloween until the beginning of the year.  The music plays while waiting for the ride and all through the ride.  You walk around the park for the rest of your visit humming it.  Sometimes it is a duet with the other themes of rides, so that it can become a cacophony of music in your head.
After reading this post, I was immediately homesick for a drive up to Disneyland.  For 27 years I was able to drive to Disneyland.  It  was less than two hours away.  No gps or maps were needed, I got in the car and drove. I know my way there.
This got me thinking, always a bit dangerous.   I miss that way of life.  I miss the way I lived when I was in San Diego.  I never thought I would say that.  I was glad to leave the west coast and move east.  It was a dream I held for at least 27 years while living in California.
I miss being able to meet friends for a walk and either have coffee or a meal afterwards.  I miss shopping at the malls with all the good stores there.  I miss meeting our dear friends for coffee and or dinner and movies on Friday nights.  I miss the mountains and the apple pies and apple picking there.  I miss knowing my way around like the back of my hand, knowing that if I am not certain where I am, if I head toward the water, I will eventually find out where I am.  I miss real Mexican food, with real salsa.  I miss it all.
Now, that all seems nice, doesn’t it?  I have to confess that, while in San Diego, I missed Maine.  I missed the coast and the rocky shoreline.  I missed the snowstorms, I missed the little military housing community I lived in.  I missed my friends in my neighborhood.  I missed the lobsters and the blueberry pies.  I missed Mt Desert and Bar Harbor.  I missed it all.
Finding a pattern here?  In Maine, I missed Japan.  I missed seeing Mt Fuji out my windows.  I missed the excitement of living overseas.  I missed the food and the smells and the noise.  I missed riding my bicycle everywhere.  I missed living in early occupation housing with all its challenges.  I missed my friends.
Yes, this is my observation today.  Seasons change.  Not just outside in nature, but in our lives.  Change is inevitable.  We can’t help it.  It happens.  For our growth, for our lives, because we serve a God who knows what is the very best for us.
I have spent the past several months missing our old house here in Charleston.  It was beautiful.  The neighborhood was idyllic.  It was comforting and I love it.  Our new place, I am grateful for.  I am learning also, that there will be things that I will eventually miss about this place too.  The way the wind blows through the tress in the backyard.  The ugly pond (more like a drainage ditch), that is home to three alligators.  I never would have been able to watch the gators swim around like I do here.  I actually enjoy watching them.  One loves to swim all day long.  One almost frolics in the water and the largest one makes the theme song from Jaws run through my mind.
Yes, the autumn of this year is upon us.  It has brought with it a cooler temperature, changing and falling leaves and most importantly, a changing attitude in me.  This is another season of my life.  Not perfect.  Not ideal. But, time that I will grow to enjoy and appreciate.  A time of learning and discovering.
Yet God has made everything beautiful for its own time. He has planted eternity in the human heart, but even so, people cannot see the whole scope of God’s work from beginning to end. (Ecclesiastes 3:11)
thank you for stopping by today.  I appreciate your visit.  DAF
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