A MORNING DTB, COFFEE WITH THE BRUD-IN-LAW

I am home for the weekend, that being DTB, (down the Bayou).

My besties, Laurie, Ann and I spent the afternoon decorating for 

The baby shower for Laurie’s first grandchild. 

When I stay DTB I mean home, down the bayou.

I don’t visit as much as I should, time seems to slip away from me

As I do artist work, help with grandgirl, and spend time

With “da boo’ all so important yet this visiting is equally important. 

When I return to my hometown, more often than not,

I sleep at my niece, Tiffany’s apartment connected to my sis’s

Home. All of this writing gives a background for my story;

My Brud-in-law has been in my life since I was three.

He began dating my sis, Veronica when they were in high school.

Back then, aside from my immediate family

I was very shy of people yet, this handsome young man would try anything

To get the ‘little sister’ to like him. 

That day was a huge lollipop and it worked. 

One of my favorite things about sleeping DTB is

Morning coffee with Brud-in-law.

We are both early birds so we find ourselves each morning

spent here drinking coffee together and bullshitting.

The conversations are always so very good.

However, this man is one of the sweetest caring men I know. 

Since his retirement, He does a lot to help my sis.

Some mornings, it is as simple as this:

 he makes his coffee and then fixes the Keurig for his wife.

On this morning as I sit here drinking coffee he is folding clothes. 

They are leaving early to head to Mississippi to watch one of

Their grandchildren perform.

He is not merely folding clothes, though. 

“I woke up at 2:30am and remembered Veronica didn’t have enough

white clothes for our weekend so I washed, dried and am now folding so she can pack.”

This is one of many facets of my Brud-in-law I love. 

He was not asked or told what needed to be done, 

He just did it. I know so many that could benefit from learning

From this gentle soul who I am privileged to call

BRUD-IN-LAW.

Beauty is not what you see in the mirror

This morning, on Facebook, a friend of mine

posted this from another site.

Says so much, so much that I would want my grandgirls

to know, believe.

Yesterday having spent a few hours with JOJO,

the sweetest, most complimentary 4-year-old

I know, I have no doubt she will

be "that girl"

It also reminded me of something I used to tell my

own babies when they were growing up,

being hard on themselves because of maybe

a bad grade or being grounded.

"When your time comes to meet the Big Man

after this life, he will not ask you

What grades did you make, were you pretty?

Instead, he will ask, were you good and kind,

did you take opportunities to be good to others?"

Truthfully, it is in those ways that make you 

more beautiful than 'the others in the room'.

As I grow older, more wrinkles in site,

discoloration of my once even skin tone,

I still feel prettier than I ever have in the past.

Why? I think it has to do with living a peaceful, happy life.

Content is where I am and always trying to be the

best person I can be. To pay it forward whenever

I can. To do for others, help others when the opportunity

arises and always try to leave someone with some type

of positive comment. 

I am far from perfect, forget and often get stuck inside my own life.

 However, one day with JOJO and she will

 remind me of just how important compliments can be.

"Oh Mumsie, I love this kitchen"

"Mumsie, I love you so much"

"Mumsie you are so pretty even with your wrinkles"

(have I said she is honest as well.....)

I say to others if you ever having trouble with self-confidence,

spend a day with JOJO and your 

confidence will be restored.

Beware, she loves to talk, like her Mumsie

but the things that come from her little heart and soul 

are worth hearing all she has to say.

Go forth and "be pretty"

Our Bean turns 8!

Our Jillian Grace turns 8 today, 8!!!!!!

Seems like just yesterday that we were blessed with her.

Above, her baby pics and one of her and my Mom on

their first visit. Mom lived another two years after this photo was taken

these two with her parents who were smitten with their first born.

What do I want to say to my first Grandgirl on her 8th birthday...

So much that my thoughts are jumbled.

Jillian came to us at a time that I needed a distraction

from the marriage, I was in and that was not good.

She was a pleasure to us all and it was because

of her I found myself wanting to be in Plaquemine all the time.

Our bond is a lovely one. She loves the Cottage, having

been the one to name it.

As we drove near it the first time I showed it to her she exclaimed,

"Mumsie, it looks just like the cottage on Goldilocks and

the three bears!" and Mumsie's Cottage was born.

I am biased so excuse me while I brag on my oldest grandgirl:

She is beautiful and sweet,

dramatic (like her Mumsie lol)

smart, understanding things not many 2nd graders understand.

She is a teachers dream, following the rules, never

getting in trouble. Loves her family especially her baby sisters.

Loves all her grandparents and is affectionate to us all.

Sometimes I think, because she was the first, around mostly adults

for the first two years of her life

has an adult vocabulary but still a child when it comes to playing.

She loves crafts, painting, miniatures,

all those things I adore.

In a few weeks, she and her friends, who will be staying at her

house for a sleepover will come to the cottage for a

Mumsie's Cottage craft as she is just so proud of 

what I do. I could go on and on about this child

of ours. Yet, I don't want to bore followers while

singing her praises.

I have to add, that for everything that makes her special

to us, there is another thing that reminds us that she

is a typical child as well. 

She, being ours makes her that "special" I speak of.

All the grandgirls have that influence on us all.

I will close with one last thing:

When the boo built the lemonade stand for her and her sisters,

she began to brainstorm a name. Because Boo worked for 

a company called double J, she thought Triple J would

be proper as she and her sisters' names are all J's.

Hence the name of the stand. However, she has carried

this name through all aspects of their lives,

calling themselves the Triple J's.

A few weekends ago, all three of the grandgirls spent the whole

night. That next morning on my chalkboard, I was happy 

to see she had made changes to her earlier writing

from "Two of the Triple J's were here"

to

"ALL THE TRIPLE J'S WERE HERE"

That is our Bean.

Happy 8th year on Earth my sweet girl,

we are the lucky ones!

Mardi Gras 2019

"Wanna go to a parade?"

"Nah, I am not much into parades."

"I have a friend on the parade route in NOLA"

"New friends, Heck Yeah!"

This was a conversation between myself and the boo.

The fact about Mardi Gras is, growing up in Golden Meadow,

Mardi Gras and parades were a big deal as we lived

on the parade route.  My Dad was not much of a holiday celebrater

but when it came to Mardi Gras, he pulled out all the hospitality.

Cooked the biggest batch of homemade chili,

even the bathroom received a shining.

Everyone was invited to the Collins homestead.

Open door policy where there were times we were sure

people we didn't even know came for hot dogs and chili.

When we heard the sirens, our spot in front of Randolph's Restaraunt

                                    was blocked off and we all walked to Highway 1 to watch

the parade. Beautiful memories.

Then, when I was 20, my Daddy died.

Mardi Gras for me was never the same. 

I lost my love for the parade.

However, meeting friends of the boo and learning

about their lives, I am all over that!

Hence, the parades of 2019,  celebrated at the Bergeron home.

I had met Ralph at Boo's Mom's memorial.

He greeted us at the door with his 100-pound pup, Appolo.

Soon I met the rest of the family, 

Cheryl, his wife, and his two adult daughters

Val and Claire. Such a laid back family.

The conversation was great as we shared our lives.

We walked to the parade after a lunch of

grilled burgers and hot dogs.

As we waited for the parades I monitored the crowd.

I noticed a family oriented spot, many families,

some with little ones who seemed like special needs children.

As the Parade Of Argus passed, I also was aware of each

the floats had special needs children and adults.

Having been a school nurse for 11 years I was impressed and

curious. I just had to find out about Argus and the crowds.

I picked a Daddy who had been holding his little son

who I could tell was also special needs at the age of approximately four.

" Do you know anything about the parade of Argus?"

He explains that his little son has Autism and his daughter

is deaf, this parade is the one they always come to as

it supports the needs of special children like his own.

I watch the parade with open eyes, sharing my catches with

this sweet little boy. I am now an Argus Fan.

After the parades that lasted over an hour,

three right after the other, I danced and held my hand up

for beads just like the rest of them.

I have to say, after so many years since my last parade,

I have not had that much fun since I was a child.

We then walked back to the Boo's friends home where

we sat on the porch to watch the crowds disperse and

walk to their cars. Oh, the memories of yesterdays come flooding back.

Sitting in front of our street watching the traffic on Highway 1.

The Bergeron's not only were friendly and laid back,

but I felt like we had been friends for a long time.

We spent another few hours in their most beautiful home

sharing stories and I had a new audience and yes, 

my "diarrhea of the mouth" was in full swing, telling

one life story after the other. So much so that my cheeks hurt.

Yet,  my new friend, Ralph was a fellow storyteller,

going all out to tell a story of going to Chauvin for fishing

with his girls. Where some may just say,

"Yes we go fishing in Chauvin"

Ralph made a story explaining start to finish, even with Cajun

accents the story of their trips, leaving nothing out.

I am enamored by the way he tells his stories.

Cheryl, his wife is also such a wonderful host.

She is a curious listener, asking questions and looking up things

we speak of on her phone, truly interested in things I share

about down the bayou, what I still call home.

The boo, a quiet but great partner to my stories

as he has heard them all yet he never stops me, allows

me to share with my new friends.

I never go to someone's home empty-handed.

That morning Boo and I made a boo-yee cake and they not 

only enjoy it but want to find out about its name, etc.

Dusk is settling when the Boo and I decide it is time to leave

 our friends. Friends we now are, having also become

friends on Facebook. We are not home yet when I receive a text

from Cheryl thanking us for coming, for all the interesting

conversation and looking forward to meeting us for brunch

one Sunday soon.

When you meet new friends who make you feel so welcomed

you must consider yourself blessed.

I am so thankful that Boo gave me the chance to attend this

parade which led me to the Bergeron's.

Because of this and the hospitality of this family I have

a newly found love for parades.

It will be a friendship that I can see will become long lasting.

Looking forward to our next outing celebrating

the friendship with the Bergeron's.

Looking Back on old blogs of lilbitofmyworld....

Feeling a Tad sad today...

Although it has been a crazy 6 years for My ex and I

and his family,

Yesterday he lost his half sister.

On January 19th of this year,

she sent me a text asking for forgiveness for

any pain she every had brought to me,

that I would always be her sister in law,

thanked me for all I had done for her,

especially when she got her first diagnosis of kidney cancer.

I told her then I had forgiven her a long time ago

and did love her.

I did not think less than a month later she would

die from her reoccurrence of kidney cancer.

I looked back on my old blog,

lilbitofmyworld.blogspot.com

Maybe there I would find some comfort from the weird feelings

I have today.

I find this that i Posted in 2013.

Again, I say God sometimes speaks to me in words read in books.

In this wonderful book on page 177 I read this 

as it relates to my life:

"...it is called a survivorship mentality...

I have come to understand what being a survivor means.

It is bestowed on those who see a glimmer of light 

in a hall of darkness. It is a person who has no

doubts, no fear and only confidence,

who at times seems irrational.

It is a person who believes that he or she

alone can find the solution, and that at the right moment,

it will become evident. 

It is confidence that exudes optimism hand in hand with faith...

Being a survivor must be more than an ability 

to find solutions; it must also be an ability to cope.

Suddenly I understand what it means and I wonder if

I am up for the challenge..."

Yes, I am a survivor. I will find my way and every day

I have a new understanding a new idea.

Great things will come from this new understanding

of my life, whether it be to speak out to others

or to be someone others look to.

Whatever it is, I am up for the challenge.

I AM A SURVIVOR.

I guess today it is what I needed to read.

I may feel sad today for the loss of her and

things that have been brought to the surface

from long ago,

but give me a few hours of "feeling sorry for myself"

and I will be fine because it's what I do...

I will be stronger because of it.

MY BROTHERS MISHAP...

I often wonder if things lost are found and if not,

where are they now, the same as when people pass away,

I want to know "Where are they right now..."

Which brings me to my blog today.

I recently bought the new iPad Pro for the sole reason

of writing my book and it turns it into type.

I am writing my memories of being a childhood cancer

survivor through the eyes of my 5 year old self.

Since yesterday I have been obsessed with my brother, Peter's

graduation ring. You see when I was fighting my battle of

cancer my brother was fighting a different war, Vietnam.

I have been told the story that he had gotten a special family leave

to come home to see his sick baby sister.

In his travels, he took a ferry across the river and was

leaning on the ledge twirling his South Lafourche graduation ring.

I wonder what he was thinking, but regardless he

dropped his ring into the Mississippi river.

I have thought of this often through my life but more

since I and the Boo began Metal Detecting.

Finding the ring I am sure is almost impossible

as the weight of it probably had it sink right into the mud

But would it not be fantastic if that ring would be found

washed up to one of the lands of the Mississippi?

That would make for a great special interest story....

                   

A LOVE STORY THAT CROSSES ALL BOUNDARIES.

Over the Christmas holidays, I was fortunate to meet a 

new friend. As we get older it becomes harder to find a 

true friend right away who you know would do almost 

anything for you. After Christmas, we had lunch together

and he told me one of the most beautiful love stories.

I am writing with his permission but leaving names out.

He is a widower, having lost his wife two years ago.

He tells the story of how lost and depressed he was at the

beginning of the loss. Yet as time went on, he found his days

getting a little easier, until a birthday or an anniversary came along.

After over a year he ran into another old friend who also had

become a widower as a young woman with children.

By this time she was remarried and he had a very

important question to ask her.

"When does the feeling like you are cheating on your spouse go away?"

This seemed to have been weighing on his heart as

he was trying to move on.

She shared some very good advice, the biggest part

of it was this, she pointed to the wedding ring he still wore

and said, "... and you need to pick up your wedding ring,

take it off, kiss it and put it away."

He listened to all her advice and told her how he felt about

it all and said, "But I am not going to stop wearing my wedding ring."

A few days later, working at his homestead, he was bit

by ants on that hand that caused his ring finger to swell quite a bit.

He took the wedding ring off so that it would not get stuck with

every intention to put it back on once his bites healed

He speaks of a few times trying to put the sacred ring back on and

the finger remained too swollen to get the ring on.

He took this as a sign from his wife, kind of telling him,

giving him permission to move on.

He remembered another word of advice his friend had given him

"Your wife, she would not want you to be alone as you age,

to waste the years you have left alone."

As the ring continued not to fit, these thoughts crossed his 

mind and heart. So, after days, he took his friends advice,

kissed the ring

and as he put it in his jewelry box he spoke

to his dear wife, "This must be your sign that its time to move on"

He never wore it again and the guilt feeling he felt when 

speaking to his friend seemed to be gone.

What a beautiful story of marriage, selflessness and a wife

helping her husband overcome his grief.

I often say, Sometimes The Big Man does for us, what we don't

have to courage to do for ourselves. this beautiful story is one

of those examples. 

Thank you friend for sharing such a special story and allowing me

to share it here for others to read, experience.