The Naming

This might be a good place to “name” my children for the purpose of this blog. They will be represented by an animal which I believe most closely matches their personality. (For dd#1, this is on pg 46 of the book she gave me a couple of years ago).

For said dd#1, I have to pick a sheep. She is a follower, and not always a wise one. I realize that the oldest child should be a strong personality, which she is not. She is a kind, loving individual and a good mommy. Right now she is also a black sheep. She needs to remember that Christ loves her no matter what choices she makes. She needs to follow her Shepherd.

Number 2 dear daughter would be a fox. This is because a fox is the only animal that I know of that would bite her leg off to save her life. If she is caught in a trap, she will do whatever she can to save herself. She is also a good mommy. She is smart, but allows herself to be “hounded” by outside influences.

Our middle child, daughter #3 is definitely a pig. This is taken from Animal Farm (one of my favorite books)—where all animals are equal, except pigs are more equal than others! LOL. This is not a bad thing. She is an achiever and works hard for that which she has. She also makes generally great personal choices.

Child #4 is our only boy. I would pick a Draft Horse for him. He is a hard worker, and his lot in life is probably to do just that. He loves the out-of-doors and is not afraid to put his shoulder to the wheel.

Child #6 (yes, I skipped one) is DraftHorse’s wife. She is a treasure…so I would say she is a Bee. A worker bee, because she works so very hard, and ‘stings’ DraftHorse into action!

Child #5 is our youngest. She is spoiled, and a bit lazy. I would call her a poodle. A lot of fluff, and not much work! LOL She does work hard, though. She goes to City College and works full-time as a bagger for a large grocery chain. She is also a social animal who loves people.

Now onto Dear Hubby. There is no other animal to describe him other than Pack Rat! Anyone who has stepped into our bedroom and has witnessed “The Pile” knows exactly what I’m talking about.

Anyone reading this post might think that I do not love my family. Quite the contrary...I adore them. They are each unique and enrich my life. I have always referred to my children as the "jewels" in my crown. They certainly are.

I wonder what animal my children would peg me to be?

Probably a carp, but I really don't want to know!

A Life Worth Living

Sometimes we must start at the ending to see the beginning. We had an ending last week when my dear stepfather passed away. His memorial service was on what would have been his 89^th birthday. So, those who offer their condolences often say, “Well, he had a good life.” Yes, as a matter of fact, he had a good life. But only because of the type of man he was. His son (my stepbrother) is really a not nice person, and I won’t even take the time here to give him an identity. Suffice it to say that he caused my dear FarmerFather untold grief. Now, since FarmerFather was 89, you can guess generally how old stepbrother is…he had many years to cause FarmerFather said grief.

In spite of living during the depression, marrying perhaps unwisely, he maintained a cheery disposition throughout the time I knew him. FarmerFather married my mom when he was only 79 and she 73. They were like newlyweds! He brought so much joy to my mom and took the best care of her that he knew how. Unfortunately we lost her to a stroke 4 years ago, so they had only 7 years together. FarmerFather worshiped the ground Mom walked on, and saw to her every need—even through the diagnosis of Alzheimer’s.

Now I would like to touch a bit on regret. We all have regrets, and some are bitter. My bitter regret is that I allowed stepbrother to interfere with my relationship with FarmerFather these last 2 years. I saw him only once. Stepbrother moved him from his home to a nursing home without letting me know. I found him once, then FarmerFather evidently went into the hospital…when I inquired about FarmerFather, I was told he was no longer at that nursing home. I gave up. I let FarmerFather down! I weep for the goodbye not said.

I read a poem by an unknown author today that says my feelings exactly. It reads:

Life is not measured by the

Number of breaths you take

but by the number of moments

that take your breath away.

FarmerFather gave me many life moments, but more importantly, he lived a very full life with many moments that he felt life!

Memory Keeper

The Beginning First

When my resident computer geek (Granola Girl) first shared her blog with me, I loved the sharing of her thoughts. It wasn't very long before I was surfing around and found a few other blogs that I enjoyed reading. Granola Girl came "home" this weekend for my step-father's funeral, and I asked her to help me set up my own blog.

I enter the computer world with much fear, and Granola Girl/mom hand-holding. Change is difficult for me, but I try to face those fears.

And now to the reason for the existence of the blog--It is purely selfish. I would like to indulge in the typical grandmother's rite of memory rambling. Hence the title of Memory Keeper. However, as in the book, The Giver , some of us hold the memories of our families. Unlike that book I wish to share those memories with those around me that we might learn from the past and hopefully change the future--not to a Utopian existence, but to building a better future.

Remember that we are always making those memories--each and every day. Oh that those memories make us better people and improve the lives of those around us.

--Memory Maker