QUE' SERA, SERA...

 WHEN I WAS JUST A LTTLE GIRL, I ASKED MY MUMSIE,

WHAT SHALL I BE?

SHALL I BE PRETTY, SHALL I BE RICH?

HERE'S WHAT SHE SAID TO ME

QUE' SERA, SERA,

WHATEVER WILL BE, WILL BE,

THE FUTURE'S NOT OUR TO SEE, 

QUE' SERA, SERA...

I have sang this song most of my life, way before

the word Mother was changed to Mumsie.

My momma sang it to me, I sang it to my children.

Then the GrandGirls came along and changing 

the word Mother to Mumsie became a hit with them.

I have and still sing this to them every night they sleep

at the Cottage. 

I have taught Jilly how to play it on the piano and

many times when she plays it, I can hear all three of them

singing it surrounding her at my red piano.

I don't think they have any clue that "Mumsie" in the

song is not accurate, that I changed it.

It makes my heart happy each time we sing or make

reference to the song.

Yesterday the three of them came to the cottage

to work on their Daddy's birthday gift.

While here, we were playing Tenzi's

(if you have not heard of this dice game, look it up, it fun for all ages)

they decided they wanted to give me a massage like at a spa.

Well I was all for that, as I laid down on the round chair 

in the library, I could hear them discussing low music 

to sing like when getting a real massage.

As I felt their small hands on my head, back and 

shoulders I closed my eyes and they began to sing...

"When i was young, I asked my Mumsie..."

out of all the songs they knew it is this one they chose to sing.

I barely could get my phone on record before they finished

but I did get this little snippet of their sweet voices:

"BE STILL, MY HEART"

As I realize, this song is engrained 

in their heart as a memory.

For the rest of their lives they will sing this song,

bringing back memories of me and the cottage.

If really lucky, they will always believe

that the word Mother was never a part of 

the song sang so many times.

 

HISTORY OF AN ARTIST

 Yesterday, a new client I am working with who lives in Ohio

asked me how I got started in this art business of Home Portraits.

I have been asked and told the story many times and maybe

have even posted it here somewhere, but its a good story to tell

and I want it here for prosperity's sake.

THREE YEARS AGO, THIS AUGUST, I WAS MAKING 

A LITTLE MONEY SELLING MY CRAFTS.

I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN CRAFTY AND THOUGHT OF 

IT AS A HOBBY THAT COULD BRING ME IN A FEW EXTRA DOLLARS.

YET, I ALSO FELT LIKE I WAS TO DO MORE WITH THIS

BUT I DIDN'T KNOW WHERE TO GO WITH IT.

AS A CHILD, HAVING HAD CANCER, I COULD NOT DO A LOT

OF SPORTS AND THINGS MY FRIENDS WERE DOING SO 

MY PARENTS PUT ME IN ART LESSONS WITH GODLYN SERIGNY.

EVERY SATURDAY, MY DAD WOULD DRIVE ME TO HER LITTLE HOME

FOR A FEW HOURS OF PAINTING LESSONS.

I LOVED THE SMELL OF LINDSEED OIL AND PAINT AND 

IF I SMELL IT NOW, I AM TRANSPORTED BACK TO HER HOME.

I DID PAINTING LESSONS WITH MRS. GODLYN FOR ABOUT 8 YEARS

BUT THEN BECAME A TEENAGER AND DIDN'T WANT TO DO IT 

ANYMORE AND ALTHOUG I WOULD PICK UP A PAINT BRUSH EVERY

ONCE IN A WHILE, I DIDN'T DO MUCH OF IT AS I GREW UP TO

BECOME A NURSE, WIFE AND MOTHER.

THEN CAME A DIVORCE, AN EARLY RETIREMENT FROM NURSING

AND GROWN CHILDREN AND I KNEW I WANTED TO DO MORE

WITH MY LIFE BUT WAS NOT SURE JUST WHERE I WAS SUPPOSED TO GO.

IN MY MOM'S LAST FEW MONTHS OF HER LIFE,

SHE BOUGHT MYSELF AND MY 6 SIBLINGS A BEAUTIFUL ROSARY

THAT WAS HANDMADE TO THANKS US FOR TAKING CARE OF HER.

MY SIBLINGS AND I  OFTEN PRAY ON THIS ROSARY WE

CALL THE "MOMMA ROSARY" AT THE SAME TIME AND DAY

WHEN WE HAVE SOMETHING WE NEED TO PRAY ABOUT OR FOR.

SO ONE NIGHT BACK THREE YEARS AGO IN AUGUST,

I SAID A MOMMA ROSARY TO HELP LEAD ME TO WHERE AND WHAT

I WAS SUPPOSED TO DO WITH MY LIFE.

THE VERY NEXT MORNING I FELT CALLED NOT TO PAINT MY COTTAGE

BUT TO PAINT MY NEIGHBOR, RHETT'S HOME.

I HAVE ALWAYS LOVED HIS HOME AND HAD IT BEEN FOR SALE WHEN

I WAS READY TO BUY I POSSIBLY WOULD HAVE BOUGHT THAT ONE.

I TEXTED RHETT TO ASK IF I COULD PAINT HIS HOME.

HIS FIRST REACTION WAS "MY HOUSE IS BRICK"

I CLARIFIED THAT I WANT TO PAINT A PORTRAIT OF HIS HOME.

"OHHHHH, YEAH GO FOR IT" WAS HIS RESPONSE.

THEN MY MIND JUST TOOK OFF I FOUND AN OLD CERAMIC FLOOR TILE

AND AN OLD NEWSPAPER FROM THE 1800'S, PUT THOSE 

TWO THINGS TOGETHER AND BEGAN TO SKETCH AND PAINT HIS HOME.

I WAS SHOCKED WHEN I SAW WHAT I HAD CREATED.

I NOT ONLY DID NOT KNOW THAT I COULD PAINT LIKE THIS

BUT I ALSO COULD NOT BELIEVE I HAD DONE THIS PIECE.

I SENT A PHOTO OF THE PAINTING TO RHETT AND RIGHT

AWAY HE WANTED TO BUY IT, FELL IN LOVE WITH IT.

I POSTED IT ON FACEBOOK AND SINCE THAT DAY, I HAVE NOT RUN

OUT OF CLIENTS AND ORDERS TO PAINT HOME PORTRAITS.

THAT'S MY STORY, A TRUE GIFT FROM GOD.

THANKS TO ALL WHO TRUST ME WITH THEIR HOME PORTRAITS.

I BELIEVE

MY YOUNG NEIGHBOR  RECENTLY LOST

A DEAR FRIEND AND BECAUSE IT WAS A VERY CLOSE

FRIENDSHIP AND HER FIRST CLOSE DEATH SHE HAS

BEEN STRUGGLING. 

DEATH IS NEVER EASY BUT WHEN IT IS YOUR FIRST

CLOSE ENCOUNTER IT CAN ROCK YOUR WORLD.

NONE OF US REALLY KNOW WHY OR HOW LIFE 

WORKS, WE CAN IMAGINE IT BUT IT IS OUT 

OF OUR REALM OF COMPREHENSION TO TRULY UNDERSTAND.

YET WE ALSO HAVE OUR OWN BELIEFS TO HELP US

THROUGH THE GRIEF PROCESS.

SO I SHARED WITH HER SOME OF THE THINGS I BELIEVE TO BE TRUE:

• Lilly Collins Riera

  Sometimes we wonder  "why do things like this happen?" I am no expert, by any means but I have some beliefs... these may or may not help you. I believe there is another life after this one and sometimes the pain of this life becomes too much for one. I believe sometimes the death of another is not even about the person who passes but for another to learn something. I believe that as painful as grief is, it allows us to love those close to us more deeply and to hold those same people closer to us. I also believe that this life is temporary and our human nature cannot even fathom what is next to come so it remains a mystery but those who have entered the next phase of life, whatever it may be, are so happy there that they choose to stay if their job here on Earth is done.

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I ALSO BELIEVE IN THE POWER OF PRAYER,

I HAVE SEEN PRAYER IN ACTION AND I REFUSE TO 

BELIEVE THAT THIS IS A COINCIDENCE.

HOWEVER I ALSO THINK SO MANY PEOPLE SAY,

"I WILL PRAY FOR YOU" OR "I AM PRAYING FOR YOU"

THAT I SOMETIMES WONDER IF THEY ACTUALLY DO

OR HAS IT BECOME A SLANG IN OUR WORLD, 

SOMETHING WE SAY TO COMFORT OTHERS.

THIS IS NOT TO SAY THAT I DON'T BELIEVE THIS IS SAID

WITH GOOD INTENTIONS NOR THAT SOME WHO SAY THIS

REALLY DO HAVE PRAYER LISTS AND PRAY FOR THOSE.

I WANT MY FELLOW PEOPLE TO KNOW THIS,

IF I SAY I AM PRAYING FOR YOU, OR HAVE PRAYED FOR YOU

I MEAN IT. 

ONCE I SAY OR WRITE THESE WORDS DOWN I STOP WHATEVER 

I AM DOING AT THAT MOMENT AND SAY A PRAYER RIGHT THEN.

IN THIS WAY I FEEL I AM NOT BEING UNTRUTHFUL OR JUST

SAYING THE WORDS TO EASE SOMEONE ELSE'S PAIN.

I TRULY DO BELIEVE PRAYERS WORK AND THAT JUST

BECAUSE WE DON'T GET THE RESULTS WE PRAY FOR,

DOES NOT MEAN THEY ARE NOT HEARD.

IN MY WORLD IT ONLY MEANS THAT SOMETIMES THE ANSWER IS "NO"

OR "NOT YET".

AS I HAVE SAID BEFORE, SOME THINGS JUST CANNOT BE

UNDERSTOOD IN THE WORLD WE LIVE IN.

I CAN ONLY SAY:

I BELIEVE

 

"I'M A LITTLE TEA POT"

 OKAY,  I know it is supposed to say,

"I'm a little Tea Pot..." but it's not, its a coffee pot!

I know you all are swooning out there.

When R and I used to scour the antique and thrift stores,

I was always looking for a percolator that was not just for show

and in my price range, which is.... well, cheap.

A deal gets my heart rate up.

As many of my friends know I love sitting around a table

with a cup of coffee, dessert, friends and talk.

I am not a Keurig girl. It never makes me enough coffee

and Pods just don't seem like the way a cup of coffee should start.

I should add here though, when I visit my sister and brother in law,

I look forward to their Keuring because it means an early sit down

with my brud before anyone else wakes up. Love that!

Okay, back to the story. 

This week while scouring yet another

antique store I come across the perfect metal, red (My favorite color) pot,

and it even has the old cotton cord.... Oh yes, I think and as I read

the price tag, 20 dollars..... 20 DOLLARS!

I know this little baby is coming home with me!

There is a chance it may not work but for that price, it can sit in my

kitchen collecting dust. 

The morning after, I decide it is time to give this little pot a try.

I plug it in and wait, impatiently.

I hear noise, that is  a good sign.

Then I see it, water then coffee bubbling up into the glass topper.

My heart is a flipping. I can't stop watching it as I think of how 

many cups of coffee may have been served from this sweet thing.

I think of how many coffee dates I will be serving from this spout.

When it is ready I pour myself a cup, not in the thermal metal cup 

I normally use, This calls for a special cup, one that has coffee stains and

a plate that is made for that said cup. I add my condiments

and I sit to taste. 

.......... and just like that, if I close my eyes and daydream......

I am sitting at the red and white home built kitchen table,

the one that always has a jigsaw puzzle under the plastic table cloth.

My daddy is sitting there quietly working on his homemade castnets

as I wait for his homemade biscuits shaped like cigars to come

out the oven. I am transported to my childhood where everything

was right in the world and life was safe and simple because 

someone else was responsible for me.

I know for this experience, I would have paid triple what the

price tag read on this little red percolator.

THE LOG CABIN

ONCE UPON A TIME...

BECAUSE IS THAT NOT HOW ALL GOOD STORIES BEGIN?

WHEN I WAS 5, MY MATERNAL GRANDMOTHER DIED.

ALTHOUGH I HAVE FEW MEMORIES OF HER NOW, I BELIEVE WE WERE 

FAIRLY CLOSE THEN.

ONE THING SHE OWNED THAT I ALWAYS LOVED WAS

A SMALL BOX THAT LOOKED LIKE A LOG CABIN.

I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN INFATUATED WITH SMALL THINGS

SO I CAN REMEMBER PLAYING WITH THIS CABIN OFTEN,

OPENING THE TOP TO REVEAL THE INNER PAPER THAT

WAS PRINTED LIKE THE INSIDE OF A CABIN.

WHEN SHE DIED, MY AUNT LEE LEE WHO ALSO LIVED

IN THE OLD FAMILY HOTEL GAVE ME THIS LOG CABIN.

I HAVE TREASURED IT ALL MY LIFE, PLACING IN IT IMPORTANT THINGS:

MY COMMUNION VIEL AND PURSE

A FOOTBALL PHOTO OF MY COUSIN, BUDDY

LOVE LETTERS TO MY PARENTS

MY CHILDREN'S TEETH (yes I am that mama)

SILVER DOLLARS MY GODMOTHER GAVE ME AT EVERY HOLIDAY

JUST THINGS THAT REMAIN SPECIAL TO ME AND SPARK A MEMORY.

I HAVE ALWAYS KNOWN I WOULD LEAVE IT TO A GRANDGIRL

WHEN I DIE BUT WONDERED, WHICH ONE?

THEN ONE DAY I AM SCROLLING THROUGH FACEBOOK MARKETPLACE

AND I FIND ANOTHER EXACTLY LIKE IT AT 

AN ANTQUE STORE IN THIBODAUX!

YES, I KNOW NOW THE HUNT WOULD BE ON TO BUY TWO MORE

AND LEAVE EACH GRANDGIRL ONE.

I GOT IN TOUCH WITH THE STORE AND THE RARE FIND

IS ONLY 60 DOLLARS! A STEAL AS I HAVE SEARCHED THEM ON

EBAY AND THE CHEAPEST I HAD FOUND WAS 300 DOLLARS. 

ALTHOUGH THE STORE SAID THEY WOULD HOLD IT FOR ME,

THEY COULD NOT SHIP IT AND I COULD NOT COORDINATE

A DATE THAT I COULD PICK IT UP DURING THEIR HOURS OF OPERATION.

I TOLD THEM NOT TO HOLD IT, THAT I WOULD GET BACK TO

THEM AFTER I SPOKE TO MY NIECE, REBECCA AND ASK

HER TO PICK IT UP FOR ME.

HOWEVER, I NEVER MADE THE CALL TO MY NIECE.

I GOT BUSY WITH MY DAY, PUT IT ON THE BACK BURNER 

AND KIND OF JUST FORGOT ABOUT IT.

A MONTH WENT BY AND ONE DAY, I WAS PAINTING

IN MY STUDIO WHEN I RECEIVED A TEXT FROM REBECCA.

WE REMAIN CLOSE BUT WE DON'T GET TO TALK, TEXT OR VISIT

LIKE WE WOULD LIKE SO I IMMEDIATELY WAS EXCITED TO

SEE HER NAME ON MY PHONE.

ASTONISHMENT WITH THE PHOTO SHE SENT ME WITH THE CAPTION:

"LOOK WHAT I JUST FOUND AT THE ANTIQUE STORE"

I KNEW IMMEDIATELY WHERE SHE WAS AS IN THE PHOTO

WAS THE LOG CABIN!

THE VERY SAME ONE I HAD TRIED TO PURCHASE OVER

A MONTH BEFORE. WHAT MADE THIS MORE ASTONISHING

IS THAT WE HAD NEVER DISCUSSED THE LOG CABIN,

NOT THAT MONTH, NOT AS ADULTS

AND I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW SHE REMEMBERED MY OWN CABIN.

I WAS IN A STATE OF SHOCK, HOW THESE THINGS COME TO BE.

I CALL HER RIGHT AWAY, I TRY AND EXPLAIN TO HER THE

STORY I TELL HERE NOW AND ASK HER WHAT MADE HER

SEND ME THAT PHOTO?

SHE RELATES THAT AS A LITTLE GIRL (she is 10 yrs. younger than me)

SHE HAS MEMORIES OF SITTING WITH ME ON MY BED

GOING THROUGH THE TREASURES I STORED THERE.

I HAVE NO RECOLLECTION OF HER MEMORY.

OF COURSE I TELL HER TO BUY IT AND I SEND HER THE

MONEY KNOWING THAT I WAS MEANT TO HAVE THIS LOG CABIN BOX.

THIS WEEK I MET UP WITH HER FOR LUNCH AND SHE DELIVERED TO ME

MY SPECIAL, GOD GIVEN CABIN.

OUR LUNCH WAS GREAT AS WE CAUGHT UP ON OUR LIVES

AND AS I USUALLY DO, I SAW THE BIGGER PICTURE THAT

THIS WAS NOT ONLY ABOUT A LOG CABIN BUT THE IMPORTANCE

THIS WOMAN PLAYS IN MY LIFE. AS WE

DISCUSSED ALL THE CHANGES IN OUR LIVES I REALIZED

THAT TIME WITH HER, HER FAMILY AND OTHERS I LOVE

NEED TO HAPPEN MORE THAN IT IS.

AS I HUNT FOR LOG CABIN NUMBER THREE, I KNOW I WILL

FIND IT BECAUSE IN MY LIFE, THERE ARE NO COINCIDENCES

AND THE BIG MAN REMINDS ME IN THESE WAYS THAT

LIFE WITH THOSE WE LOVE IS MOST IMPORTANT.

Siblings Unite

Yesterday was a rare affair.

Many do not know that the Collins children span

from Simone, the oldest 81 and myself, youngest at 57, 23 years.

Something happens when the matriarch and the patriarch dies.

My Dad died in 1983 and part of us all went with him.

Family gathering that were once mandatory became "if you can make it"

in the big house we were raised in.

We were not all able to stay as close as we were when he was alive.

Yet, we tried, and we tried hard. 

Celena, sister and her hubby Ted bought the family home 

and every Christmas while Mom was living,

hosted Christmas Eve at their house. For my family

it was a given, go to church then meet at C and Ted's.

It no longer was mandatory but on any given Christmas you 

never knew who would be there. Oh what fun we had at these gatherings.

Like all families, they became extended the little children became

adults and it just became harder to gather as a family.

Then Mom died..... and another piece of our heritage and heart 

went with her as well. C and Ted sold the family home

as their little family no longer needed so much space.

All of us became busy in our own lives and although some of us 

remained visiting whenever we could it was always one here

or three there. It was not all together as it had been in the past.

Simone made the decision to go to a nursing home when her health 

became that she needed medical intervention daily.

We all tried to visit as much as we could, many of us

made her birthday celebration each year but never all of us.

Then Covid... what covid took from us...

Let me be sensitive to those not as fortunate as us,

we have been blessed that none of us died from this dreaded disease.

I know many families have not been as lucky.

What it did take away from my sister, was family,

visiting, hugs, kisses, relationships. 

The home had to keep her and their other residents safe, we 

all understood and appreciated that.

For her, she had to be lonesome, with long days.

Some of us visited at the window when we could always

at different times but that does not give you the human touch we all need.

So it was a wonderful feat when C was able to coordinate

a day at the home where we all could visit at once.

We surprised her with all 5 of us with a visit that allowed

some of us to hug and kiss her for the first time in over a year.

The gathering was also for us siblings as well as we

realize always how we need to gather in the name of

our Collins family and our parents honor.

We sat for three hours just talking...

talking about our families, sharing photos, my brother 

speaking about Vietnam and we  all shared what that

war did to him and our family. Most of our memories

are personal but I will say that we all left there with a better 

understanding of how our lives have led us to the 

people we are today. I was able to ask and get answers to 

questions that I had about when I had cancer.

It was a beautiful day and we all felt the love our

parents bestowed to us when they made us a Collins

Simone Marquerite

Lawrence Joseph (diseased)

Veronica Ann

Peter Romel

Rosanna Marie

Celena Monique

Lillian Therese

Connected by blood, United by love.

Thanks siblings 

"... and I don't know if you knew so I'm taking this chance to say

that I had the best day with you today"

-taylor swift

 

Notes

This morning, after fixing my coffee, I see this

bright orange sticky note under my chalk board...

Of course, I am curious enough to have to look at it, 

figuring its one of the grandgirls who put it there.

I know right away it is Jolee when I see her spelling

and change of ink colors,

"MUMSIE'S COTEIGE"

Yep, that is our JoJo.

She has Mumsie correct, Cottage, spelled as she hears it.

I chuckle to myself as I remember this message she left on

another visit, 

"ROBOT'S RULE" 

That day she was practicing her robot moves around the cottage 

so I again, knew it was her art work.

 I also knew because she is the one more apt to leave me

small messages such as these around.

I believe she will be most like me when it comes

to writing, reading and making sure she leaves a mark in her world.

It also brought me back once again to a childhood memory I remembered.

My mom, when I was growing up, worked at Randolph's Restaurant

in front of our street. She could walk there as she didn't drive

and I can see her even now, walking there is her starch white 

nursing uniforms which was the attire for waitresses back then.

She usually had the morning shift and would be back home before

I got home from school but there were evening when she was

called to work. I didn't like these nights.

I always felt most secure when both Mom and Daddy were home 

when I went to bed. Therefore, on these nights I tried to stay up 

to wait for her. Because some were school nights I was not allowed 

to wait up. Yet, on those evenings as I thought of her 

taking people's food orders as I made my way to bed I 

would leave her little notes on the kitchen table. 

I wish Mom was one who would have saved such notes

as it would be hysterical to read them now. 

I was a nighttime kisser and hugger and liked laying across

her recliner so she could rub my back so when she was not there

that connection was lost. Although I can't remember what I wrote on those

notes, I have the memories of sitting in the kitchen writing these

notes. I remember feeling like I wanted her to know

I loved her, I missed her and what better way to talk of how

you are feeling rather than writing it down.

How I miss the days of growing up and being able to 

spark those memories when looking at a sticky note that now

lives under my chalkboard. I will save them.

One day Jolee will be an adult and I know she will be sparked

of memories when looking into Mumsie's scrapbooks.