Christmas Eve

Today I will begin to cook my Christmas Eve early supper

as the kids and grand girls will be here for supper!

It is such a hard thing these days to get together as

they each have their own families that they want

to share their Christmas mornings with.

What is the menu?

A ham, rice dressing, oyster dressing, potato salad

and homemade Chocolate Chip oatmeal cookies.

Not a big menu but for us 8, it shall be plenty.

This gathering has me realizing just how much has

changed since Christmases past.

When your children are little and you have the 

decisions on where to spend it.

Half of those Christmases, their Dad was working

but we always made a visit to his family on this morning.

We usually had Christmas lunch as sister, Veronica

with the rarity ones being at my house.

Christmas Eve, was almost always at C and Ted's who

at that time lived in the family home in Golden Meadow.

I can say we had some lovely Christmases.

Uncle Luke and Aunt Tim would always stop by

after Christmas Eve mass as was Ted's parents.

So many people, so many conversations, so many children

begging to open presents. When Mom lived next door,

we always took the walk there for her to give out

her gifts. It was great memories!

Now Christmases are being separated as now

those who were little children then, have their own wives 

and children and want to begin their own memories.

Don't blame them as there were some Christmases that

I would have liked to stay home on that morning, in PJ's

playing with the kids and their toys.

Yet, the memories we made and the fun we had,

games in the afternoon, naps for the men who had a little too much

turkey. It gave for many memories.

I am happy for our little gathering tomorrow and

today I will begin to bake remembering Christmas past

and looking forward to Christmas future.

Merry Christmas to you all!

A FEW OF MY FAVORITE THINGS....

Today is 

BESTIE CHRISTMAS DAY!

It may not be official on your Calendar

But on my, and these two, it is there.

How fortunate are we to have had BFF's 

since second grade?

I could go on and on about how many things we have

done together, how many tragedies we have overcome together,

instead I will say this.

At least twice a year myself and my girls gather

for a lunch, movie, shopping, etc.

But more than that almost daily we are in contact via

text or phone and I am proud of that.

Proud that in our busy lives, with so much going on

in each our personal lives, we still have

put each other on the "Pro side"

of our lists.

I look forward to this day as I did all others with these gals.

To have life long friends who you know has your

back for any thing that should come up.

I am blessed beyond measure in many aspects of my life,

but when speaking of these two....

they definitely are...

"...two of my favorite things..."

ANOTHER DEATH...

Waking this morning to the remembrance that

my Aunt GaGald (Glorise), my Dad's sister

passed away yesterday. My Dad was one of 9 and

now only one aunt remains although we buried her husband,

Uncle Roy last month.

This Aunt was very special to me as her home,

with her hubby, Uncle Red and her four children were

where myself and my family spent lots of time during

my childhood cancer years.

The family lived in Chalmette, Louisiana and owned

their own Air Conditioning business.

So many childhood memories surround their lives as

the one thing I always looked forward to when 

having to go into the hospital was my night or two at their home.

She was elegant, she was classy, always a wonderful dresser

but not afraid to work hard and get her hands dirty.

I was not always a pleasure to be around back in those days.

I could throw a tantrum with the best of them

when I would refuse the medicines that I needed to take

before a check up procedure.

There was one time in particular that I was giving both my

parents a hard time about it. She relieved my parents

and took the problem on head on. I thought maybe

she would fuss me, tell me how ungrateful I was but she did not.

She walked into that room where I was pouting

took me in her arms and rocked me on that bed.

She told me how unfair it was that I had to do all these tests

but no one could live their lives if something happened to me.

She worked on my soft emotions that I had even back then.

She then gave me the meds that I took without fuss.

This was my aunt, always so patient with me.

I have written a few blogs about her and her family.

This is a recap of one of those blogs:

I thought they were rich because of the wonderfully smelling

pink soap called Ponds.

The Bath always smelled like that beautiful bar.

Our home only had cheap white soap as we

had so many bodies to clean.

I remember pledging that when I grew up I 

would only use Ponds soap.

I kept that promise to myself to this day.

The first time I blogged about this,

my cousin Faye informed me that they did not

use Ponds because they had an overabundance of cash

but because it was the only soap back then the did not leave

tub rings. Touche'.

Since then, my aunt has buried that wonderful cousin, Faye.

She also buried her baby boy, Dwayne many years ago

when he died well before his time.

Now my two living cousins, Dela and Bert find themselves

the only two left from their immediate family.

I can imagine their feelings as no matter how

old you are, you are never ready to loose your Mom.

Dela has told me she went peacefully and I know it has to 

be just a tad easier believing that she will now be with 

her wonderful hubby, Uncle Red and two of her children,

Fay and Dwayne.

My heart is heavy with this death, how I loved her.

In February, the last gathering myself, Randy and the grandgirls

went to in Golden Meadow was our last visit.

As always, she was dressed elegantly with the sharpest of minds.

She wanted to share a story about the cancer days.

She started with, "Sit down Lil, I want to share a story with you..."

She went on to share that one day she and my Mom were

staying at the hospital with me. I had been very sick that

night after Chemotherapy. She said I was so weak I could

barely hold my head up. My Mom asked her to help bathe

me and put a fresh night gown on me.

Explaining when she pulled the soiled night gown and saw

just how thin I was, that she could count every rib, could

see the radiation burns on my abdomen. She finished with

after I was cleaned and resettled she literally had to 

leave the room to cry and be sick herself.

I share this story not for my part in it but for her part.

She loved me so very much that just the site 

of me being so sick touched her so deeply.

While it was not the happiest of stories we then talked

of just how far I have come, how blessed my life has been

and I thank her. I tell her my memories I share here with you all now.

I know without her and her family's acts of kindness bestowed

on my whole family, life would have been much more complicated

than it already was.

My Aunt GaGald, classy, elegant, beautiful,

she will be missed so very much but many parts of her

will live on, not just inside myself but all those who knew her, 

loved her, was blessed just knowing her.

Dela and Bert, I know these days are hard for you all.

Not many have to bury so many of their immediate family

to be the only two left standing but one thing I know,

you two cared for my dear Aunt until her last breath.

I love you two so very much.

RIP my dear Aunt!

(Aunt GAGAld, to my left in February, still dressing so 

classy. On my right, my only aunt left on Dad's side,

and sweet JoJo who came in for the photo.)

Matter of Perspective

A few days ago, driving into my driveway,

I had a view of my backyard.

To me, it looked messy with all the dead leaves covering the ground from

my few trees and bushes.

My grass cutters only cut when needed and

I am not one to rake up the leaves that

embody my back yard.

It's winter, it is the way a most yards look

at this time of year.

When I was married there was never a leaf on

the ground as Ron liked a well manicured yard.

 It looks messy to me but not enough 

to care. That very afternoon I have Jilly 

for a few hours between choir and gymnastics.

She get out the car and she says,

"Mumsie, stop and stand right here"

I stand near her looking out into 

my and Mrs. Shirley's back yard.

She goes on,

" It looks like a winter Christmas card with 

all the leaves and empty trees"

I look at it again and I still only see a yard

looking messy full of leaves with little greenery.

I tell her this.

She still stands there, puts up both hands

as though she is looking through a lens.

"No, Mumsie you have to look at both the

yards together, it's so pretty it"

and then I do.

I stand there by her and I take in my and Mrs. Shirleys'

back yard and I see the Photo image she sees 

in her mind and she is right.

It is a beautiful sight, reminding us that 

season are for reasons.

I am proud of the fact that my grand girl

has the eye of an artist, who can see beauty 

where most just see messy yards.

Thanks Jilly for that eye opener.

When he returns...

Monday afternoon, Kd called to ask if the girls could

come hang out here while she saw a patient and until 

their Dad got back from work.

Yes! I had been having a few down days and I guess I needed

the "fix" that the girls give me.

I set up quickly ugly sweater cookie kit,

popped popcorn and sunny D.

Kd brought in JoJo and wheel chair 

and right away all three got into decorating cookies.

As their Dad was coming home to start his 45 days 

of vacation, they were all a little excited.

Jilly made the comment,

"I always get the first hug"

and went on to explain why as she is the oldest,

she is faster and she knows that he is back before

the other two. Their whole lives, their Dad has

gone away for two weeks and off for two weeks.

It was their Dad's and Jesi's way of life as well

so it is a normal thing for them.

However, to say they don't miss him during that time is

an understatement.

We were doing art work when we heard the door bell ring

and Jilly right away ran to the door,

proving her analogy as to why she gets the first hug.

What I got to witness though that touched me the most

was not so much the reaction of the grand girls

but the reaction of their Dad, my son, my first born.

The minute he saw Jilly, he began to giggle, laugh,

he laughed the whole time as he greeted each of

his little girls individually and continued to laugh

 and smile while he loaded them into his truck. 

I once again realized just how very lucky these

three little girls are, to have the parents they have.

A Momma who holds down the fort when their Dad 

is at work and a hands on Dad who is always so very

happy to come home to them.

I saw first hand just how much he loves these girls.

It made my heart happy, it reminded me that

his Dad and I, we were far from perfect, but we must

have done somethings right  to raise a man

who can genuinely love his girls to the point that

they know he has their back always.

...Be Patient....

It is a curious thing, that a title of a book you find at

a thrift store can bring back a memory you had stored

so deep in your heart, you completely forgot it.

So begins this blog.

This book's title...

Let me set up the background.

I was born to older parents, my Mom was 43 and Dad 45

when I was born, the baby of 7 children with 23 years

between my oldest sibling and myself.

So to say I was spoiled is an understatement.

The fact that I was also a sickly child, battling cancer

added to the spoiling. 

Yet by the time I was a teenager, well my Dad was just tired.

He had diabetes he did not monitor, he had

been shot in WWII in his leg and was always just a tad

miserable. I always felt loved but he and Momma 

had kind of lost the toughness of a parent.

I knew I was loved but the words were not said often.

I think I was a Sophomore when some episode happened

which I can't recall today, but I knew

my Dad was disappointed in my for something.

I felt like I could not talk to him at this point.

I wanted to somehow get across that I was sorry

but I just could not say those words.

When he was upset with us, he rarely fussed, he would just

get really quiet, shutting us out. 

I was feeling so down about it.

One afternoon during this time, I was getting ready to do 

my homework, (yes I sometimes did my homework)

and my composition had a cover that said,

"BE PATIENT WITH ME, GOD ISN'T FINISHED WITH ME YET"

Somehow I felt this would tell him that I was sorry,

I didn't mean to hurt him, I so didn't want him to be disappointed in me.

I tore off the cover and placed it on the kitchen table where he sat every

morning, waking at 4 am probably for the peace and quiet 

before the masses awakened.

I went to bed that night nervous but feeling good about 

the apology.

The next morning, as I came down the 22 steps that would

lead me to the kitchen for breakfast, i saw a frame

sitting on the end of the banister.

When I got down, I realized he had not only saw

my composition cover but had put it in 

a frame and placed it where we all would see it

each time we passed by the stairs.

There it sat until I think he passed away when I was 20,

"BE PATIENT, GOD ISN'T FINISHED WITH ME YET"

That day I asked him about it and he chuckled,

something he rarely did towards the last years of 

his life.

He didn't say much, all I remember him saying was

We all need to remember that.

Yes, the title of a simple book brought me right

where this memory lived, deep in my heart

to be brought to the surface to remind us all,

to be patient, God is not finished with us yet.

MY UNCLE ROY...

I did not think, on Sunday, when I spent

some time with my first cousin, Reggie at

Mr. Bill's birthday party that before the

week was out he would loose his own Father.

My Uncle Roy Eserman, passed away on Tuesday, 11/19/19.

The text from Reggie, reading"

"MY WONDERFUL FATHER JUST PASSED AWAY"

Memories flooded my mind and heart.

When people speak of Eclectic personalities,

well Uncle Roy's name may be near the definition.

My whole entire life, this man not only sang at our 

hometown church, but led the choir for all my years.

I will never walk into my church, Our Lady Of Prompt Succor,

 for the first 40 years of my life and not expect

to hear his voice. I don't know if he ever missed a weekend

mass or a funeral to lead the choir in our small town 

of Golden Meadow. Everyone on the bayou knew him

for his love of church hymns, his singing and his 

preaching of the Bible.

The family story is that he wanted to be a Priest but 

could not learn the Latin language that was needed

back then. Then he met my Aunt Jeanette, the baby 

of my Daddy's siblings and the relationship began and

lasted until he took his last breath.

Their relationship was also an odd one but there was

no doubt they loved each other in their own way.

Aunt Jeannie fussed and sometimes cussed and he

prayed, always. lol To watch them was entertainment

but there is nothing this man would not do for his wife.

When talking to him, if he was not teaching about the

Bible or how he felt of life after this one, he was

bragging about his Sons and/or their families.

Having been a treasured child himself, he was so very 

glad he left his boys with each a sibling.

Just a few months ago, we had a family gathering 

in Golden Meadow at his home.

That day he was not feeling so good but good enough

to preach the Word to me.

"You going to go to purgatory, Lilly. Everyone goes.

If St. Theresa had to go to Purgatory we all going to go.

How long we stay will depend on how we lived."

I chuckled as I remembered my whole life,

he has been the one who taught me the most

of what he believed in about "life after".

I must say here though, that he and my Aunt Jeanette

played a big role in the life of myself when I was in

the hospital for 12 weeks straight.

They took in my two sister, Celena and Rosie

for the majority of the time while my parents stayed 

with me. MY sister, Rosie speaks of the fact

that it was our Uncle Roy who taught her how to kneel

and pray. She says he prayed with them every night

for their little sister who was battling an incurable cancer.

Evidently the Big Man heard as I am still here.

Two years ago, Uncle Roy was so ill none of us thought 

he would survive it, He was so sick in ICU.

One morning, while walking off the elevator,

Cousin Reggie, heard someone singing with a loud 

and clear voice:

"Amazing Grace, how sweet the song..."

He shared with me that his first thought was

that it could not be his Daddy as he was barely talking

the day before.

Yet as he entered his Daddy's room it was his Daddy,

singing strongly like he had not done for a long time.

I visited the day after this small miracle and

heard the story first hand from Reggie.

Combine that story with the one I spoke of previously 

about us all going to Purgatory, and allow me to

share with you all what happened in my presence yesterday.

It was Thanksgiving mass yesterday with the Grandgirls.

Weighing heavy on my heart was my Eserman relatives.

I walked into church, settled down with the grandgirls

on each side of me, and offered up

this mass to my Uncle Roy.

 The 5th grade class makes

their way up to the altar and on their small

recorder instruments they blow out the song

AMAZING GRACE!

Yes, I got tearful. then mass started and the children's choir

sings Amazing Grace!

I knew my Uncle was sending comfort. 

The mass ended with this beautiful song and as i sang

through wet eyes, I realized these words could have been 

written for my dear Uncle Roy.

He had his ways, but he led more to the church than

anyone I knew. He did not only talk the talk, he

walked the walk and although he could be pushy 

about his faith, he believed all he said.

As I sat in that church with me littles near me

I say to him,

"You made it Uncle Roy, and with these signs

I know you were wrong about purgatory,

you my Uncle went straight to Heaven,

this mass is your way of telling me this.

Tomorrow we bury this man who if he could,

would say he lived a wonderful life.

That he loved his boys and his wife and his 

grand children. That his life was not always easy

but he never faltered on his belief of God.

RIP Uncle Roy, dance and sing you heart out,

and I hope when my time comes, if

I do spend some time in Purgatory, you will not be there,

having already made your way to your Heaven.

(Their 50th wedding anniversary)

Pleas pray for my cousins, Reggie and Jude, their families

and most especially my Aunt Jeannie who has

never done anything without this man by her side.