Another message from another level of life....

I say to so many, 

"I don't just paint portrait of homes,

unusual and beautiful things happen with each portrait"

Last week, those small miracles I speak of that we tend

to chalk up to coincidence is one I just have to blog about.

Because the home portrait is a gift I can't give too much away,

but let me tell the story as it happens.

Another concept that many know is that I pray

and question my client lots during their painting process.

So much so that I wonder if that client doubts my ability 

to paint the home. I just want to make sure I get everything right,

I want each client not to only be pleased but to also 

feel a pull at their heart strings when they see the real thing.

Photo's via phone just does them no justice.

With all that background, last week, I am finishing

up an order, adding on extra pieces that make my 

painting mixed media rather than just a painting.

I add established dates, keys, names, street address...

I ask this client, also a friend, Nicol,
 who is ordering for a family member who is a widower,

"Is there any sign they receive from their spouse on the other

side to let them know all is well?"

This family home is being sold because the owner is

just getting to an age that they can no longer keep up the home.

I know she is struggling with this decision as well 

as the family. As I await the answer from the client,

I am going through the thousands of things I have collected

over decades that may one day be used on a piece of my art.

I find this beautiful clear glass hummingbird.

It is in my hand as I remember how much my Aunt Tim loved

hummingbirds so I loved them too.

It is still in my hand when I hear my phone beep that 

a text is coming through.

Nicol texts me back,

"Yes, there are signs, pennies and HUMMINGBIRDS"

I become weak in the knees....

I literally have the glass hummingbird still in my hand!

What are the odds? This is not just a coincidence,

it is a sign from above and I hope that when this gift is given

they see this story as a sign from their loved one

that the right decision is made.

Goosebumps, I tell ya, things like this happen with my

work more than it does not happen.

I do not just paint homes on slate, 

I hope I put memories, joy and just maybe a small miracle

in the homes of others.

Thanks Nicol, for allowing me to share this story!

THE GRAND WEAVER....

I have once blogged about Libby,

a library app. that you can borrow books and audiobooks

from the library without ever leaving your home.

I listen to so many books while painting home portraits.

This week, I pick a book called

THE GRAND WEAVER by RAM ZACHARIAS.

It is an audio book explaining the ways of proof

he has found that there is another life after this one.

While I never struggled with believing there is 

another life after this one,

since my Mom died, I have struggled with the adventure

that takes place from this life to the next.

I know this is Faith and maybe my Faith is not where

it should be. So I begin listening to the audiobook 

read by the writer, he goes into the failings of 

us mortals thinking miracles no longer happen.

He share many stories of things that have happened only by 

the Grace of God.... one story in particular, has me not only 

teary-eyed but also making me realize that miracle abound us,

yet we so often trip it up to be "coincidental"

He tells of a story of an acquaintance  of his, Staples, while fighting in WWII,

on the day of August 8th, my birthday, his Navy vessel was hit and

began to sink. This man was swept overboard with the blast.

He had much damage to his body but he held on to 

a narrow life vest he was able to blow up with a trigger mechanism.

Many hours later, after being in the water, he was rescued 

by a passing Destroyer and returned to his safe place.

The Captain attempted to beach the liner to stop further

loss of lives but it failed. Although this man found himself

alive, he also found himself back in the water, in survival mode.

He was picked up again at lunch time by another vessel

the USS President Jackson. One of 500 of the survivors.

Staples, hugged onto this life vest knowing it had saved his life.

He memorized and scrutinized every written word, all the numbers

on this life vest. It had been manufactured by Firestone tire company

of Akron, Ohio and he memorized the registration number.

Once home and recuperating, he asked his Mother, who worked 

for Firestone, what the registration number meant.

His Mother began explaining that the company insisted 

on the personal responsibility to the help they were 

giving to the War effort, each employee was given their

own number, only used by that employer.

Staples, remembering every aspect of this life piece,

quoted out the number he had memorized from so many

months before. There was a moment of stunned silence and

then his Mother spoke,

"That was my own personal code, used by no one else but me,

I was responsible for that small piece of rubber that saved your life."

Amazing, the one who gave him birth and was responsible for

his DNA gave him rescue in the swirling waters.

For me, this is more than a coincidence but divine intervention.

A great story for all to see miracles like this happen daily,

we just have to look for them.

If looking for a new read, this one is worth your time!

THE END OF SEPTEMBER...

The end of September means also

the end of CHILDHOOD CANCER MONTH.

Being one of the very few who survived 

this dreadful disease in the 60's at the age of 5,

means this month is part of my life at the age of 56.

Of course, I have seen the Sunday informercials 

from St. Jude, have seen the short stories of the same

tv specials, but I always felt removed from it,

not part of that gang.

Then I began working on this book that

one day, I will publish. Gathering information about myself,

gathering information on how treatments have changed,

how the survival rate has grown.

My empathy has changed me.

Now when I watch or study about childhood cancer,

remember my visits to Vanderbilt University Hospital,

I am reminded, I am those children.

This weekend, I had the grand girls and I thought,

"I was Jolee's age" 

when I was diagnosed,

"A little older than Jemma..."

The fact is, I suffered through those treatments that

saved my life. Many of the things I face now, medically 

speaking are from those things that were given to me then.

Yet, I have no bitterness. I am alive, I live, I hope

I give back...

These babies I see are still part of Cancer,

we have not rid this world of Childhood Cancer.

So, I say to any parents out there who are watching 

their little babies suffer through chemo and radiation,

prepare for their survival and the long term issues they may have,

Be patient, your little child has changed.

Yes, they have been through things no little child should 

ever have to face. 

But, they have also become more,

they have become the hope to others out there who will

face the Big C. Their hearts have been changed, their

thoughts on life have been changed.

It is so very hard to believe, they have become better

because of what they have overcome.

They will share their stories and change people views.

For those sweet babies that are not as fortunate as I,

those who have succumbed to the dreaded big C,

treatments used will become better because of their

and their family's bravery.

Their bravery throughout their battle will be remembered 

by so many of all ages.

It is never easy to write or speak of childhood cancer.

I find it harder to add to my book not when I learn of

the things I faced but when I see the suffering of another family.

I say, I hope when these families hear, read my story,

they will know they belong to an elite group

a group that must continue to carry that torch of 

hope and survival for so many who come after us.

I hope when you think of me,

IT IS THIS YOU SEE.

Hope, love, empathy, survival, Life.

BARKER HOME

About four months ago, I was asked by

a young woman to paint her grandparents home for

herself, her twin sister, and her GodMother who was also her

aunt. Finally the time had come for me to do this order.

I contacted Kristen Barker Blanchard and asked if 

she was still interested. She was and that began her pouring

memories out to me to make her paintings special.

I drove by the home and took photos of the home 

as I like to do as it gives me a feel of the home.

It was a traditional brick home with a beautiful

brick fence surrounding it, It may not have been special

to many but the fact that the home was built in 1963 said

lots to me about the home. No one built or could even afford

a home such as this in the 60's. I became intrigued and 

Kristen began with the memories. She was disappointed

in the photos I took as she said her Grandparents who have both

passed always had the most beautiful yard.

I reminded her that the good thing about the home portraits,

I could make them look nice. 

With the help of her Dad, her Nannie and herself, she

began telling me about the home. 

What was planted in the flower beds, what was important.

My original sketch did not include the brick fence.

Then Kristen spoke of how proud her Grandfather was 

to have that brick fence surrounding his home.

I added a piece to each end.

Finally three portraits of the special home was painted

and awaiting pick-up.

What I love most about what I do is learning and then

meeting the clients I work with who then become my friends.

Each one has become a friend if they were not already that.

Kristen came over and OMG, it was like meeting a younger 

version of myself. We began talking, I gave her the tour

of the cottage, told her stories of things in my home.

We both had so much to say and each conversation

had so much in common. I knew this young woman

would remain in my life.

I thanked her for the most beautiful writing she 

added to facebook with her paintings.

She spoke of her twin sister, Kayla and how much 

I reminded her of her sister, how she wanted my to meet her

Mom.... It went on and we had an instant bond.

I kept feeling like I had met her before, I chalked

it up to all the texts we had shared over two weeks.

Then her twin sister, Kayla requested a friend of Facebook.

She reminded me we had met at jury duty and had a long

conversation while waiting for the duty to begin.

Then it all came back to me, I had met this girl before

and it was in that meeting that had me feeling I 

knew Kristen. Yes, I love what I do.

I don't just paint, I suspend memories for people and

then these people become part of me.

Kristen and her sister, Kayla are two of those

new people to my village. 

Kristen, thank you so much for entrusting me

with such wonderful memories. I am so very glad

I could make this dream for you a reality.

Growing up is not always easy but I pray

that each time you all see this portrait you are

transported to that little girl you once were 

when memories in this home were made.

Love to the Barkers!

SOMETIMES YOU LOOSE YOUR MOMMA BEFORE HER LAST BREATH

While streaming Facebook, I come across this beautiful writing.

I have many thoughts surrounding this paragraph.

The one more prominent is that 

I miss my Momma.

Like I miss her lots, not in the way that it makes me want

to cry or anything, more a melancholy type feeling.

As I read the paragraph, I realized that although

I wanted to always live by those words, the fact

is I am human and there were times I lost my patience with her.

Mostly before I realized dementia was settling in to take

the Momma I knew away from us.

When she forgot things, when she misplaced money,

when she lived with us and it was a struggle sometimes

when raising my own children and she was there to 

go against what we had decided was best for the kids.

I was thankful that the years she lived with us,

my two kiddo's always had someone home waiting for them.

She not only waited for them, but she had a snack ready

and supper cooked. My children have been blessed 

with so many good memories of my Momma, their Mommee.

I hope the times I lost my patience with her are not

what they remember because I really wanted to be so kind to her.

When we moved to Thibodaux, she decided not to come with us.

Instead, rented herself a small studio apartment on the bayou.

I knew we would miss her but I also knew that what was

best for my family was for us to leave the bayou.

She was healthy and happy and clear minded on the days

she moved into her apartment. 

When I would go spend the night with her, we always ended

with reading and talking about something we had read.

She hid the beginning of her dementia well,

because I didn't see her every day, I didn't see

the change in her behavior, I would sometimes still 

loose my patience as she kept asking same questions all the time.

Then, one day everything changed for me.

I had given her an awesome book to read.

She began it the same day I gave it to her.

The next morning I was happy to see her bookmark a few 

pages into the book.

I asked her how she liked it.

"Oh its so good, I can't put it down"

then the next time I visited.......

the bookmark remained in the same place.

I questioned her about it and she said,

Oh I am reading it again. 

That day I realized she could no longer remember what she read.

She could still read, just could not retain.

Each time I visited either at her apartment or at St. Joseph Manor

once she moved, the same book remained on her nightstand.

the bookmark never left page 10.

I began to see her as more like a child to me and just like

that my impatience with her was gone.

Yes, I still would get irritated sometimes but I kept it to

myself making sure she would never see or feel like a burden to me.

Although she died at 92, many years after I removed

the book from her nightstand because it hurt me each time

I saw the bookmark remain on page 10,

I treated her like a child of mine.

I lost my Mother, the caregiver, the unconditional lover of us all,

long before she took her last breath.

Love your parents as the natural order of life will 

have you burying your parents one day, its the way

 this life is intended to be.

Right now just love them.

You will miss them when they are gone.

(look at the hand in the clouds)

CONCERT OF CARS

The article reads:

LEAD SINGER OF THE CARS DIES AT AGE OF 75.

I am immediately thrown back into memories of 1980.

A Junior in high school when my besties and I heard this

band for the first time.

I had to buy the cassette tape right away and listen,

memorize ever word to every song.

Then, THEN...

A concert coming to our area??

My thoughts,

"Who will want to come?"

" My Momma and Daddy will never let me go!"

"Do I own a Bic lighter for the lights part of a concert?"

"Is this an excused absence?"

I go forth to the besties and we begin to devise a plan.

My Parentals are not only letting me go, on a school night,

but letting me drive AND stay in a hotel.

Oh what a different world it is today..

I don't remember being the one to drive.

I do remember that along with Ann and Laurie, besties,

Tina, Ann's sister and Ellen a mutual friend of ours was

also with us. We went and booked ourselves into a hotel...

We felt so grown up! 

Then we found out we were staying in the same hotel as 

the band members. I just knew if they got one glimpse of

us girls they would fall madly in love with us,

invite us on stage, Well this was MY fantasy, not sure

of anyone else's.

We roamed those halls, in the days before security camera's 

everywhere. We listened at random doors to see 

if we could hear loud band member noises,

to on avail. However, it was a big deal to us when we walked

out of the hotel to go to the concert,

there was their tour bus! Tinted windows did not stop me,

the weirdest of the bunch to wave like a lunatic 

"Just in case they were watching"

Ahhhh the innocence of teen hood.

I can't remember how far we were from the stands,

I don't remember where it was, I don't remember if we

drank cheap draft beer (drinking law then was 18 and two

of the gang were 18).

I do remember we had our Pics and we used them wisely.

 that we sang and danced and knew every word

to every song. It was the only cassette I owned of theirs

so it was a good thing those are the songs they sang.

I would say, for me they were a one album wonder.

After the concert, I moved on to bigger and better bands

but this season of the Cars brings back so many memories.

Now for the last paragraph...

The deal with my parents were I had to go to school the 

day following the concert. I was tired, I tried to get them

to change their minds, to no avail.

I got into the drivers seat to pick up my carpool, 

two being the besties. We flagged down the Dufrene's bakery

bread man and pulled us off each a piece of that

hot, soft french bread. We drove to a place we called the 

mini mall as it had a bunch of little shops that had closed

down. I don't know why we were there, if we were picking 

someone up or just enjoying our french bread,

but I got into my first accident.

Well, unless you count the time I backed the orange Pinto

into our neighbors truck in our street as he was under

it fixing something while his car was on jacks.

Yeah, that happened, another blog entry.

Anyhoo.... a lady drove right into my path.

Yes, she was on the street and I was in a parking lot

getting ready to enter the street but after all,

who does not see a 1979 Cat Shit green Impala?

So, the Cars concert ended with a Car smash up for me.

Daddy met us there, made sure we were all okay,

exchanged information with the other driver.

I thought, well at least now I can go home and

sleep. No such luck, Dad said a deal is a deal,

followed the car with little damage to good old

South Lafourche High School and 

signed us in as tardy.

A deal is a deal, ya know?

THESE ARE A FEW OF MY FAVORITE THINGS

There are two things, well two times I look forward to every day.

One is when I decide it is time to clean the brushes, close up the studio

and go to bed. Not to sleep but to read, watch You Tube,

write or journal. It is a quiet time for me.

It is also a time for reflection.

Yesterday, my great niece posted something on FaceBook:

WHEN YOUR HEAD HITS THE PILLOW TONIGHT, 

REMIND YOURSELF THAT YOU

HAVE DONE A GOOD JOB.

BE PATIENT WITH YOURSELF, AND

REMEMBER THAT BIG THINGS ARE ACHIEVED

NOT ALL AT ONCE, BUT ONE DAY AT A TIME.

Wow, my great niece, found a definition for what I do nightly,

reflection.

A clear head and heart to begin the very next day like

rubbing an eraser on those old green chalkboards.

Not to make the same mistakes but to take those things

you may have done wrong or could have done better,

store them somewhere and learn from them.

BUT

Don't let the days of old weigh you down,

start each day as your would reboot your computer,

a fresh start.

My second favorite time of the day is my mornings.

I love sleeping in my bed that my daughter in law, delainey

calls  "the real cloud" but by 4:30/5:00

I am itching to get out of bed.

I have a coffee addiction. It is the first thing

I think of when my eyes open.

I love waking before others, to a dark outside

and the smell of my coffee brewing.

I take my sweet cup of brew, to sit on 

recliner heat pad in place and open up

this here MacBook and see what is happening with my 

friends in the cyber world. It's a time where I 

begin to form some type of blog or writing 

on a topic I either was a witness to or something

that is just in my head, clogging it until I get it

down somewhere.

I can't tell you just how much these quiet early mornings

mean to me.

These two things in my life keep me happy and

trying to be the best of me I can be.

I falter, we all do. Well except for Jesus as Jolee

points out to anyone who says someone is not perfect....

that is a whole blog in itself.

Find those things in your life that you look forward

to in your life and see them for what they are,

the things that keep your inner clock ticking....

"One Day at a Time"

Thanks Ange' for the inspiration for this blog.