...as a gift

I remember when my Grandma turned 80 a few years ago. 80. Eighty. That's quite an accomplishement, I think. While it does seem old, she was always so young. She never aged in my eyes. Most years, I sent her only a funny birthday card in the mail and I did my best to call her when the time zones agreed with our schedules. However, on her 80th birthday I did something a little different. I wrote to her.

There's something you should know about my Grandma. She bakes. I mean bakes. A lot. Always has, but, sadly, not still. Please understand we're not just talking about a dozen cookies here or there for some random special occasion. We're talking dozens of cookies, at the same time, of dozens of flavors, shapes and sizes.

I remember receiving a care package from her during my first year of college - a thousand miles from home as the crow flies. She sent me a box of my all-time favorites: pumpkin chocolate chip. Yum. She didn't just throw them in a ziploc and ship them off, no. She individually wrapped each cookie in plastic wrap and boxed them up carefully using bubble wrap. I could taste the love in each sweet bite. And, no, I didn't share.

For her Christmas cookies, she would start shopping for ingredients in the summer, watching for sales on sugar, flour, chocolate. At her peak, she probably made close to 1000 cookies for just one holiday season. That's, say, three or four dozen of some 20 different kinds. Crazy amount of cookies, right?

I always encouraged her to start her own bakery - Pearl's Pearls, or Sweet Pearl's. How perfect would it be to have a little cart at the base of a Colorado ski slope - sell cookies in three-packs to skiers as they headed back to their cars after a hard day! No. She always nay-sayed my idea and told me she did it just because she loved it!

So, back to her birthday gift - I wrote out 80 reasons why I loved My Grandma's Cookies and put it in a frame. I like to think she truly cherished that gift. She told me she read it often and kept it out where others could read it too.

Every now and then, I go back and read it...just simply to relive the memories of those little tastey treats. And to remember my Grandma. The last couple years she has opted out of making cookies, but I for one am grateful to have those memories written down just the way they live on in my mind.

...to create a journal for our kids

I started right after our oldest was born. A special little blue journal just for him. At the beginning, I must have had lots of time on my hands as I watched him sleep the better part of his days away. I used to write, several days a week, about our days start to finish. What we did, where we went, what he ate, funny faces, smiles and speed bumps. As he got older, I decided to concentrate more on his milestone momentsf: first steps, first trips, first foods, first day of pre-school, etc.

Our youngest son was born a couple years later, and he too got his little journal - a tangerine one about the same size. His holds many memories and milestones unique to his journey. For both keepsakes, we've held on to plane ticket stubs, first ski tickets, first haircut receipts and other snippets to date.

Becoming a parent triggered many questions for me about my childhood. Questions my parents couldn't remember the answers to and/or didn't have written down in my own Baby Book. While these days I find it a little more challenging to find the time as often, I still carve out some to catch up on the boys' new habits and skills, their new firsts and even just funny things they say at various stages and contexts. These moments are priceless...I don't want to forget a one.

Maybe when the kids turn 18 or leave the nest (whichever comes first), I'll give them their journals. They may even have volumes by then, I don't know. I do hope they'll thumb through the pages of their childhood  (as I saw it) at their own speed and learn a little something about themselves at each stage: infants, toddlers, tweens and teens. A Mom can only hope that after all that they turn into a couple of darn good adults! We shall see...

...to say Thank You

"I would maintain that thanks are the highest form of thought, and that gratitude is happiness doubled by wonder." ~G.K. Chesterton

Growing up, I was taught to write thank you notes. I specifically remember writing thank you notes to my grandparents after we received a birthday card or gift of any kind...especially if there was money included. I remember sitting at the kitchen table asking my Mom, "Does this sound OK? What else should I say?" My Mom always told me to let them know what I planned on doing with the money - whether I was going to save it for a rainy day, or buy something special.

This practice continued for me throughout my childhood and into adulthood. I always wrote thank you notes after job interviews and even upon job offers. I think I even wrote thank you notes (email) upon leaving a couple employers due to various life changes. There is truly something to be treasured in the written word - whether you give it or receive it. I think of it as carving out time to express my deepest gratitude to someone or for something that they in turn took the time to do for me.

I'm pretty sure my parents would be pleased to learn I still believe in the handwritten thank you note. I wrote them for wedding gifts - probably the most in one sitting I'll ever do - baby gifts, and now I do them after my kids' birthdays and holidays. My intention is to keep the thank you note alive!

These days, I often get a phone call from my Mom who is struggling to find the right word or word combination for a thank you note she's been trying to get in the mail for days. Funny how life comes full circle, eh?

...to document my Little Guy's BIG dreams

There is always one moment in childhood when the door opens and lets the future in. ~Deepak Chopra

As with everyone else, I wear a lot of hats. One that I’m very fortunate to wear is my Mom hat. Sometimes this Hat is worn out, sometimes it looks pretty good and other times I don’t feel deserving enough to have it on. Regardless, I will wear it for the rest of my days.

The other night as we were cleaning the kitchen after dinner, my oldest (at the wise old age of four) asked me if we could check out the toy store to see if they had any new Cars Legos. I explained to him that we just bought two small pieces to his set and that he should think about saving his money so he could buy the next one.

  Distraught at the thought of spending his own money, he explained to me that he couldn’t buy anything...

  "But, I can’t buy anything, Mom. <sigh>”

  Sure you can. You can buy anything you want as long as you have enough money in your piggy bank.

  "But, Mom. I have to saa-ave my money. <sigh>”

  For what, Bub?

  “To buy something. Moo-oom. I’ll tell you why I have to save my money, Mom."

Why is that?

  “To buy wood.”

  (I knew where we were going with this.)

Wood for what, Big Guy?

“For the houses I’m going to build when I get older, Mom.”

Writing Down the Bones

"The act of putting pen to paper encourages pause for thought, this in turn makes us think more deeply about life, which helps us regain our equilibrium." ~ Norbet Platt

I’ve finally decided to start this space: Why I Write. I’ve thought a lot about this (and for a long time) until one day, it hit me. In a daydream, I wandered back to the classroom where I took a creative writing class. I was an undergrad student at Arizona State, a journalism major, a thousand miles from home. That class centered around this book called Writing Down the Bones by Natalie Goldberg. Every time we sit down to write it’s like starting over, or better yet, starting anew. There is no security, no assurance that because we wrote something good two months ago, we will do it again. Actually, every time we begin, we wonder how we ever did it before. Each time is a new journey with no maps.

One of the exercises I remember vividly from class (and from the book) was freewriting. During the first part of class we were told to put our pens to paper and write. Sometimes our Professor would pick a topic or simply take a sentence out of a book and we were supposed to just...write. Don’t edit, don’t stop, just get it down on paper. There were times when I was floored at what came pouring out.

During my daydream a few weeks ago, I thought, why do I write? So, I put my pen to paper. Yes, old school, I know, but I even have the sticky note to prove it. Anyway, I wanted to see what would happen. Sure enough, a couple minutes later, I had created a solid list of reasons why I write.

In this space, this blog, these virtual pages, I will be working toward getting back to the basics. Maybe I’ll inspire. Maybe I’ll spark an idea. Maybe I’ll just be a good read. At any rate, the invitation stands open for you to join the journey.