HERO!!!!!

This girl right here, my great niece, she is a hero!

Yes people have babies every day and every one is special but this girl...

This boy?? Well they deserve a little bit more praise.

You see these two people, they fell in love in high school.

When she was a senior and he a Junior, they found out they were going

to have a baby. For most teenagers, this would have been 

a hard thing and I am sure it was for them.

Yet, they made a decision back then.

To figure out how to give this little baby the best life possible,

even better than their own. 

Both finished high school all the while working.

When they had their sweet baby girl three years ago,

it was not easy but with a lot of back and forth and hard work,

they found their way. 

I have watched this little momma with her little girl and

the patience she has shown her, the love....

I have watched this little Daddy show his little girl all the finer

things in his life like hunting and fishing, well

whatever he is doing, she is there.

They were able to buy their first home, cars and still

find a way to love their little family.

Then pregnant again, planned.

Yet they didn't plan for twins! 

Their baby girl from day one, said it was two brothers.

They were still surprised when the ultrasound proved it.

Then my little niece, well she did something that has

made my heart even softer for her.

Never in the last 9 months did I hear this girl complain about this pregnancy.

From day one she was tickled with the idea of having twins

and when she found out it was twin boys she knew she was in love yet again.

Never once did I hear her complain about pregnancy issues,

although I am sure their Daddy did.

Each time we spoke or I saw a post about them, it was positive.

When the future was discussed and doctors shared that

multiple births were hard to carry and she may go early and the

brothers may have to be in the NICU for some time,

she was determined to carry these babies as far as she could so she

did not have to go home without her little ones.

That she did, when she was threatening to deliver early, she went to

bed and stayed there. Their Daddy, worked long hours but still

came home and did Momma and Daddy duties so that they

could give these boys the best chance possible.

Even when the doctors said it was safe to deliver, she still let the babies

decide when they would come knowing this is what was best for them.

When, one a day that would have been so cool to deliver, 2/22/22,

she held on, letting them deciding on their birthdays.

Though the extra weight to her body, the enormous size of carrying twins,

she saw only positive, often seen posting about how miraculous a woman's body is.

Yesterday March 2, is the twins birthday.

She so wanted to deliver vaginally as many twins must be C-sections,

those babies turned their little heads down and she gave birth to 

both of them just the way she planned with their Daddy right near her

supporting, encouraging his babies' momma.

I am just beaming with pride for this couple and their beautiful family.

 I want to send them words of advice from their Aunt Lil:

You two, have a lot to be proud of,

two of them being yourselves.

The World, it can be hard on a young couple,

DO NOT FORGET JUST HOW IN LOVE YOU TWO ARE RIGHT NOW.

Time will have you forget all the special feelings and times

through the last 9 months, do not let that happen.

Plan that wedding you guys have waited for,

make it a bond that will not be broken.

When marriage gets tough, look into the eyes of those three children

and remember the promises you two made to them when 

you brought them into this world.

Don't let anyone or anything come between your little family.

When things get hard, and it will, turn to each other, not anyone else.

Don't let outside influences break you little family.

No one will ever love your children like you two do.

They were given this little family by you two and

they deserve to have it a unit, take divorce and separation out of your vocabulary.

When you are wrong, admit it, When you are right shut up....

I love you five and although I may not be in your lives daily,

I am always cheering from the sidelines and never far away if

you need to talk or a shoulder to cry on...

or Aunt Lil advice....

I am in awe of you two!

 

A RETURN VISIT....

 Yesterday a returning client who has become a friend

came to pick up his second home portrait.

He surprises his beloved wife twice this way.

The first time we met, he had one baby in a carrier 

and the other, holding his hand. 

I remember going out to his truck to help him with his little babies.

Yesterday he and his 4 year old son are coming through the back door

he tells me that when driving up his little one said,

"I remember coming to this house"

He was just two back then and the Cottage was gray!

How can this little mind remember such a thing.

We ask him, "What did you come here to do?"

"Pick up a picture of our house"

I am shocked this child can remember such detail.

"... and guess what you are here to do today?"

As he shrugs, I explain I have another picture for him.

I walk him over to their home portrait and his eyes grow big.

"What is this?"

"It's our house!"

We go on talking and as we point to the windows,

he tells me that there is his brothers room and

the two big windows? That is his momma and daddy's room.

I ask, " what will I see if I go through that door?"

Putting his tiny hands on the painted door that is so familiar to him,

"You go through there and take about 5 steps then you turn this way...

Then you will see it. My room"

All the while making hand motions.

Amazing that this sweet little boy is so animated and comfortable

because " he has been here before"

Knowing that somewhere in his little memory

there is this Cottage that paints people's homes.

When I repeat the story to my friend I get choked up.

Ya just never know when a little sweet boy will visit and bring you to tears.

PRAYING CLOCK

While searching for the blog about my clock that

sings every hour to share with a friend,

I realized there is a part two to that blog from January 2021.

Allie and Bryan gave me a clock and during my Covid days

I prayed each time it sang, every hour on the hour.

Once I was better, I told the Grandgirls the story 

and whenever they are here and they hear the tune,

they all stop wherever they are and pray for someone. 

They keep their prayers silent but if you hear the music

you can look around the cottage and will see each of them

stopped wherever they are with heads bent, eyes closed.

Yes, this would be enough for me, but it goes further.

During their Christmas party with friends,

as we sat on the floor of the dining room the clock began to sing,

And not Jemma, who I would expect an outburst from,

but Jilly announces to the 12 girls, " oh every time the clock goes off

we have to pray, and for the whole time the music played everyone 

was silent and yes, jemma had hands in prayer.

I love all the special things that are in their heart.

I hope when the Cottage is being emptied after I die

that one of them picks up that clock, remembers the story 

and puts it in their box of treasures to bring to their own adult home.

 

Remember before WWW?

Last night I was looking through old music sheets to find

the background for my next home portrait.

In one of the many music books I found this on one of the back pages.

 The magazine was published in 1967, I was four.

I have been through this magazine many times but just

never really paid attention to what was "WANTED"

Last night, being late and I was tired,

I glanced at one of the paragraphs and realized

this is how folks found a certain music piece or poem

or book quote back in the day.

No you tube or google to just type in Search,

you had to just write to a magazine, let them know 

what you were looking for and await for someone to hopefully

know what it is you were referring to.

Wow, how much this newer way of doing things have simplified our lives.

Yet, for me a lover of snail mail and sending cards and letters,

how exciting it must have been to perhaps get an envelope in the mail

addressed to you, to open it and there would be that song, that poem

you had been searching for.

You didn't have to worry about putting your address in a magazine

because honestly, nobody cared where you lived 

and the only people who would even give it a second glance 

would be those in which knew what you were talking about.

I had a  thought that what if I made this the new

"Message in a bottle" 

thing.

Look up on some search engine what they were looking for

and mail it to that address to see what response I may get.

I know most of these people are probably not alive anymore

but what if a relative still lives there?

Would they be as excited as I, to get this in their mailbox.

Stay tuned, my mind is spinning...

Those darn squirrels, live rent free up in my head!

ART LESSONS, LIFE LESSONS

For many Saturday mornings from the ages of 8 to 16,

while my peers were playing basketball or softball,

I was going to Godlyn Serigny's home for art lessons.

I was not going to be allowed to do physical sports because of

the cancer deal and by the age of 8, three years after the diagnosis,

I was still hanging around and because my Dad was an artist 

in his own right, he found Ms. Godlyn to teach me her fine craft.

Every Saturday I would be dropped off in this older home that

always smelled like linseed and old art books and be 

taught the fine art of oil painting, sketching and seeing a project 

to its finish. I was shown how important taking care of a paint brush was,

light sources and shading, how to make a very simple shaped sketch 

into a painting, how to mix the basic colors into every other color I may need.

I was also taught how to talk to adults, how to compliment other 

students art work and to take a compliment on my work as just that a compliment.

My parents must have understood that there I would learn aspects

of being a confident human being that I would not be fortunate to get playing sports.

So for 8 years, most Saturdays, my Daddy would bring me and pick me up 

three hours later knowing that it would be weeks before i would complete

one painting that they put their hard earned money into.

When I needed a new brush or tube of paint, Daddy would just

drive to the only place on the bayou that sold these things and buy it.

Then I became a teen and it was not something I wanted to do anymore.

Although I always played around with art in some way, I thought little

of the time spent here.

I had my family, raised my children and we did some crafts and things

but I truly believed I  had forgotten all the lessons I had learned in Ms. Godlyn's living room.

Then came the day when I said a Momma rosary to give me guidance

on what I should do with this craft business I called Mumsie's Cottage.

I was making a few dollars here and there but knew I could do more.

The next morning, I woke up to think of painting Rhett's home on ceramic tile

and old newspaper. 

Three and a half years later and I have not stopped painting home portraits.

Sometimes I would be surprised at just how naturally I could look at a color

and know how to mix it. Depth perception seems to come to me without thought

and light source I didn't even think of. 

Each time I bought a new brush I lovingly cleaned it after every stroke of a color.

Yesterday as I was straightening up my kitchen I glanced up at this painting,

the only one I have from those eight years of art lessons, 

done when I was twelve years old.

As I really looked at it, memories of all those Saturday's came back to me.

How hard it was to be taught where each light had to shine on a piece.

How the colors had to flow to make something look round.

That table?? was painstaking for me as Ms. Godlyn had me do it over and over

until she felt it was good enough.

I am sure there are some of her own strokes in this painting as she

probably got frustrated trying to tell me how to blend and just took my paint

brush and showed me how to do it.

I realized right then, that I did not forget anything she taught me.

I just stored it somewhere in the amazing brain each of us was given.

When the color mixing comes to me without thought, it is her memory that

put it there, Ms. Goldlyn Serigny.

So salute to all the teachers we have had in our lives.

I always believed I got most of my confidence from my Daddy who

told me as a young child who was bullied,

"Lil when you come through this kitchen door, it does not matter what

the world thinks of you, because here you are loved"

However, yesterday, while studying this masterpiece, I realized

that being confident is not the same as being conceited,

that being proud is not the same as bragging.

That those lessons were not just taught to me from a strong family 

but also those who believed they were just giving painting lessons.

 

THE BABY

AS I POSTED ON IG, WHAT IS MY FAVORITE THING ABOUT THIS PHOTO?

Not the fact that my Daddy, a professional photographer took it and 

it was one of the last ones he ever took in his career, although that is important.

It is not the way I am sitting on his very famous carpet that us Collins Clan

can tell if a photo was taken by our Dad or not.

Nope that is not it.

It is not the curl on top my head, nor the "Popierre" ears I was born with.

Not the dimple in my cheek or the birthmark that barely shows on my right arm.

For me, it is the simple fact that after 6 other children, i being the 7th

they still loved me enough to put the chain around my neck 

and shoes and socks on my feet.

That the smile I am wearing is because I am looking at

the two people on the other side of the camera that gave me life.

Gave me life more than once.

That at 43 and 45, thinking their family was complete,

accepted the fact that they would have another baby and loved me.

That five years later they would be faced with big decisions

for this little girl and would stand together in hope and faith

and do everything they could to save their youngest child

from cancer.

I cannot wait to thank them again in person wherever the next life takes me.

 

Not all are survivors...

 My first cousin died a few days ago of Pancreatic Cancer.

She gave it the good fight, and I believe her fight will help

to make this type of cancer curable in the future.

Survival's guilt, its a real thing.

When the grandgirls friend was diagnosed with cancer,

I hoped and wanted to believe she would be the one,

the one to break the curse of this type of cancer as I had

way back in 1968.

When Wilms Tumor was not so curable and I beat the odds at 5.

This was not to be for this sweet child and it was not to be

for my dear cousin.

Yet, here I am 53 years later, living my best life.

I hope that I make every day special in that I know how 

fortunate I am. Not to feel the survival's guilt but to

live as though I am living for all those other hero's who 

have gone on but left their mark in the cancer world.

I will live with all those in mind knowing that I hold

the torch for so many others who have passed.

When I forget, I will have things to remind me of them

to get me back on tract. 

So Many people right now are fighting their own cancer battles,

find one and be a light for them.

Mail them cards, pray for their families.

It is the least I can do while being the one chosen

to survive the dreaded disease. 

Happy Saturday everyone!