Daddy's 84th Birthday

Today Daddy would have celebrated 84 years. Since he is no longer with us, we figured we'd celebrate anyway. Sarah invited us over for a full-blown dinner for lunch, complete with birthday cake. The kids insisted we sing and blow out a candle. They sang real loud so Grandpa could hear them in heaven.

In honor of this day, I thought I would share what my son, Josh, wrote for his grandfather's funeral:

Remembering Grandpa

The past week has seemed a bit surreal. Grandpa Jones is the first person close to me that I can remember to have passed away. It seems very odd knowing that his physical presence will not be around anymore. It is sad that he is no longer here. But, I am glad that he is no longer suffering and enduring life with a body that was failing him. Instead, he now is in the presence of His King and Lord. As I thought about him that Friday afternoon, I started singing the old hymn, "What a Day That Will Be."


Whenever I think back about being around Grandpa Jones, I am never saddened by the memories. I would like to share some of the things about Grandpa that were unique to him; things that he did before his body began to fail. I want to remember him the way my memories do; I want to remember the things that made Grandpa Grandpa...


I remember, when they lived up in Paradise, how he would always be up on the roof sweeping off the pine needles. There could not have been very many up there but, still, he went up and made sure that they never built up.


I remember many times taking vacations with him and Grandma in the old brownish orange Westfalia. We would drive for hours and he wouldn’t say a whole lot...he just drove. He got us to where we were going.

I remember how he always needed more oil...oil for the cars, for the lawn mower, or just to have some extra. Whenever Grandpa went to the store and he would disappear, you could bet that he would find us soon with a case of oil. That is just who he was.

I remember many nights as a child sleeping on the floor in his house when he would come home from work. His heavy footsteps notified all of us kids that Grandpa was home.


I remember how he always took care to maintain his responsibilities. Whether it was continually checking the oil in the cars, washing his vehicles, sweeping the pine needles, or going in to work everyday. He always made sure the paper goods were burned in a timely manner. Grandpa was a man...plain and simple.


You never had to prime Grandpa for the altar call, to come up for prayer. He was usually the first one to come up. And after he couldn’t get there anymore without difficulty his hand was the first one up. To those that didn’t know him, you may have thought that he must have major problems to always be coming up for prayer. He may have had things he dealt with but he knew that bringing them to Jesus would make the easier to bear.


It was his financial sowing into my life that made it possible for me to play the piano and, as a result, lead the church in worship. Without those many years of continued work I would not be gifted with the abilities I have today.


However, my best memories of Grandpa didn’t involve his chores or his quirky habits. You would often find him with his Bible or a book by Billy Graham. Never one of many words for men, he always had words for his God. I remember so many times walking by his room and seeing him knelt down in prayer. You could never make out the words but every so often he would cry out, “OH, JESUS!!” I can only imagine what he was praying about. The state of the world? Maybe. His grandkids? I am sure he brought our names before the King. And I would imagine that he prayed for Grandma and their marriage. But, I know, without a doubt, that most of the time he was praying for his own 4 children. His heart was always thinking about them. He wanted only the best that God had for each of them. And I have to believe that “the prayers of a righteous man avail much.”

What a Day That Will Be

There is coming a day when no heartaches shall come

No more clouds in the sky, no more tears to dim the eye

All is peace forevermore on that happy golden shore,

What a day, glorious day that will be.

Chorus:

What a day that will be

When my Jesus I shall see,

And I look upon His face,

The One who saved me by His grace;

When He takes me by the hand

And leads me through the Promised Land,

What a day, glorious day that will be.

There'll be no sorrow there, no more burdens to bear,

No more sickness, no pain, no more parting over there;

And forever I will be with the One who died for me,

What a day, glorious day that will be.

And now, Grandpa, you get to be with your Master. No one could ever doubt that you loved your Jesus. You have received the reward for your faithfulness. You no longer have to fight with your natural body that afflicted you for so long. You are now, finally, made perfect in Him.


Grandpa, thank you for all you did for this family. Thank you for always working, for always giving to God first, for always praying for us, and for establishing a firm foundation in Jesus. You have left a legacy that cannot be taken away from you. What you did in quiet service to Jesus will be amplified through the lives you leave behind. I love you, Grandpa...see you soon.


Josh, Serena, and the kids
----------------------------------------------------------

Daddy

Daddy went to live with Jesus last Friday. We celebrated his life here on earth on Wednesday. I believe it was just as he would have wanted it.



We sang, we heard God's Word read and the Gospel preached. As one man summed it up well, it was an honest service for an honest man. It was not pretentious, because he wasn't. It was not somber. It was honestly real. We cried. We laughed. We worshipped.


Gabe officiated and summed it up well by expounding on four things my father loved:

1.  He loved his God. More often than not, you could find him reading his Bible or praying on his knees.


2.  He loved his wife. Even in his sleep, he could be heard saying (or sometimes singing), "I love my wife, I love my wife, I have a wonderful wife, I love my Martha."


3.  He loved his children. He prayed extensively for the salvation of his children.


4.  He loved his church. And he loved going to church.

Daja wrote and read his eulogy.  You can read it here.

Sarah-Kate put together a beautiful tribute in the form of this video montage.

Make an on-line slideshow at www.OneTrueMedia.com

  I love you, Daddy. 
 

Giving Thanks, Day Eleven

I would be amiss today if I did not thank and honor our United States Veterans for their service to our country. 

My father.  Army.

My brother, Rick.  Marine Corps.

My brother, Dean.  Air Force.

As is the custom around the country, today our town honored our Veterans at a special Veterans Day ceremony at our town's cemetery.  It is always held at the 11th hour on the 11th day of the 11th month. 

My husband was honored to offer the invocation and benediction.  These were his prayers.

Invocation

On this Veterans Day 2010, we come together in the Name of Jesus to this place of remembrance for our Veterans both alive and deceased.

O God, may we not confuse Memorial Day with Veterans Day for we have amongst us some tremendous Veterans that we commend for their faithful and courageous service.

I pray for those men and women of the Armed Forces past, present, and future.

I ask God to protect them as they have protected us, to defend them as they have defended us, to encourage and strengthen them.  I pray that You, Almighty God, would keep them mentally and physically strong.  O God, enrich them spiritually to be able to handle and cope with both life and death.

These great people have fought in distant conflicts and wars, pursued peace; they have protected borders or served here at home -- all to safeguard and defend the democracy forged in these United States 234 years ago.

On this Veterans Day and every other day, we salute them and extend our thanks.  We ask our God to smile upon each of you and your families.  I ask the Sovereign Lord to heal your body, mind, soul, and spirit.  May He remind you that your service has not been in vain.

It is with deep gratitude and thanks that we recognize this day as Veterans Day 2010.  We, the people of Paso Robles, California salute, honor, and respect each of you.

In the Name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Benediction

Almighty God, Creator of heaven and earth,

As we bring this ceremony to a close, cause each of us to not forget these awesome Veterans.  Again I ask for supernatural peace to rest upon each of them.  As long as we have faithful and courageous citizens like these, America will remain free.

We ask that You bless our Veterans today who have served in World War I, World War II, Korea, Vietnam, Bosnia, Somalia, Afghanistan, Iran, Iraq, and other conflicts and places around the world.

These Veterans have laid down and invested their lives for our freedom.  O God, bring America back to gratitude and giving these men and women a hero's welcome and the respect they deserve.

I pray for the upstanding, well-balanced Vet as well as the ones struggling on the streets and living under the bridge.

Lord, we pray for the Veteran located in the highest point in North America, Mt. McKinley, to the lowest in North America, Death Valley.  We pray for Your presence too be real in their lives.

Thank You, Lord, for the two greatest Veterans who brought America to freedom -- the U.S. Military and Your Son, Jesus.  One fought for our freedom here and the other paid for our eternity.

So, we say "thank you" to our Veterans and we bless them in Jesus' Name.  Amen.

Giving Thanks, Day Two

My father.



My father is 83 years old.  He has Parkinson's Disease and some form of dementia.  It is hard to watch him get worse daily.  But, we've been feeling that for some time and he's still hanging on.

My father was a strong man.  An athletic man.  A man who could swim across a river, ride a horse bareback, and pray and read the Bible for hours on end.  Now, he can barely walk across the room with his walker, wears a diaper, and pays very little attention to what goes on around him. 

This picture was taken ten months ago.  I was walking past his room and found him kneeling in prayer.  It wrenched my heart because I had not seen him in this position for a very long time.  I don't think I've seen him this way since.  But, at one time it was a regular occurence. 

I remember one time as a child when I had a raging fever that I woke up to see him sitting beside the bed reading the Word of God to me.  I remember whenever there was an altar call in church, he would be the first one to the altar.  It didn't matter what the call was for; he really wasn't responding to that.  He just took every opportunity to pray.  If the altars were open for prayer, he was going to be there. 

He lived a hard life.  He had many demons to fight -- both figuratively and in reality.  But, he fought through.  He was not the disciplinarian in our home, but he was our spiritual leader.  He worked hard and provided for our family.

All of his great-grandchildren have a relationship with him, albeit a bit of an odd one.  They love going into my parents' room.  They watch tv in there, do puzzles, read books, and just play.  (My mother has special drawers and cubbyholes that are just for them.)  However, they watch out for Grandpa.  If he starts to stand up, they all make a large wake for him to pass.  They always talk to him, but he doesn't usually talk back.  Just the other day, Israel (age 8) kept asking him to play a game with him.  Grandpa never answered.  But, Izzy asked him several times before giving up.  But, on bad days, Grandpa will yell at them.  "Get out of my way!"  They don't seem to mind.  It doesn't seem to phase them -- even the little ones.  They just get out of his way.  (Yelling is also a new thing.  He was always very mild-mannered.  Never raised his voice.  Or banged, hit, or threw things.  All new things.) 

Rhema, age 2, has been a bit of a problem for Grandpa.  She is rambunctious and head-strong.  She doesn't sit still.  She is always moving.  I think that causes him to be stressed.  So, we try to keep her out of his way.  You would think from outward appearances that he doesn't like her at all. 

Last Friday, when we went to court for the finalization of Rhema's and Deonte's adoption, Grandpa and Grandma went, too.  Grandma really wanted to go and since we all wanted to be there, too, there was no one to leave Grandpa with.  So, we loaded him up (wheelchair and all) and took him to court.  I wondered if he knew why we were there.

As we left the courtroom, he asked my mother, "Don't I need to sign anything?"  She said, "No, they've already done it."  "Oh, so they did it for me?"  "Yes."  He was happy.

You don't know how touching that was for me.  He did know a bit about what was happening.  And he was willing to sign papers for their adoption into our family!  Even little Rhema. 

After court, about twenty-two of us went to Hometown Buffet to celebrate.  Now, Grandpa hasn't been to a restaurant in a couple of years.  We weren't sure how it was going to be.  (He has a very hard time swallowing.  This limits what he can eat and it makes his eating not very appetizing for anyone else at the table.)  But, he ate a plateful of soft foods and even had ice cream for dessert.  I think he enjoyed every minute of his outing.  He came home and slept the rest of the day.

Days like the one pictured above and last Friday make me happy.  I see a bit of my father in the man who is still here and I thank God for the heritage He gave me through my father, a man who loves the Lord with His whole heart.

Field of Daffodil Dreams

Sometimes you find the most delightful things in the most obscure places.

I've been spending a great deal of time at the Veterans Hospital. It is where my father sees his personal physician and due to some severe health problems, has recently been hospitalized. We did make the four-hour round trip again yesterday and so I was reminded of THE daffodils. A few visits ago, we went behind a door where we have not been before. They sat us off to the side in a corner where you could tell was not usual sitting. From that corner we got a special look behind some booths. I had to sneak out my camera.


My special kind of Field of Dreams....

A Few Minutes to Share

It is 8:30 p.m. and I've just put my pajamas on and am sitting on the couch with my laptop. Something that hasn't happened in quite some time.

It has been a whirlwind of activity around here. December seemed to whiz by. I had thoughts that I would chronicle each day of the season, but with all the hustle and bustle, finding a quiet time was near impossible. And if there was a moment to be had, there was no energy found in my vicinity. So, I just might be posting a Christmas post here and there during January! Who knows?

We had our annual Christmas party with this year's theme being "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas". I had fun decorating the house in white. It seemed a bit funny to not take down every single one of my Christmas boxes and explode them around the house. It was all serene and lovely. However, my husband said it didn't seem quite as festive. I don't think we had enough lights up for him! So, after the party, I did tweak it a bit and put out a few different things.




I've visited a few stores in the last few days when venturing out to do other errands and have come up with next year's theme. (I'm really enjoying having themed Christmases!) It was inspired by a little gift in my stocking. But, I can't tell you because it's a secret until the invitations come out next year!

On Sunday, December 21, the clan from Colorado arrived! On Tuesday, the Gombojavs arrived! For a week it seemed like chaos reigned around here. I don't have a tiny house, but sleeping 19 people still makes it a bit crowded! We ate and talked and ate and talked. We caravanned around to see the lights, went to eat at Abishai's favorite restaurant, went to see the elephant seals in Cambria at Jael's request, and went to church to worship one more time as a family. Josh preached this last Sunday. I cannot even describe to you the wonder of that.

On Christmas Eve, we opened our gift exchange. This year the theme was PAJAMAS! After opening all of our presents, we dispersed to various corners of the house to don our new Christmas pj's! We then came back and took pictures! It took awhile to take individual pictures of 25 people and then every group configuration we could think of! Fun and funny!

From the oldest...

...to the youngest.

As I said, if I would have had the time and energy, it would have been fun to journal at the end of each day last week. I'm so afraid I'm going to forget something wonderful or cute that happened. And I want to remember every detail of those blessed and glorious eight days!

It's quite quiet around here now. My family room does not have toys and sleeping bags covering it. But, it also isn't giving me hugs and love. Of course I cried when everyone left. Ezekiel (age 3) crawled into my lap before they left and said with a very sad face, "I don't want to leave."

Me: "You don't?"

ZQ: "No. But, my Daddy said he would bring me back again."

Me: "Oh, I'm so glad."

ZQ: "But, I don't want to sleep on the couch." (which had been his bed all week)

Me: "Why? Where did you want to sleep?" (thinking the couch was uncomfortable or the living room too noisy)

ZQ: "With you."

Nana-hood is the best. The very, very best.

My Mother's Hutch

First of all, I want to apologize for two things. One, the quality of the pictures in this post. I just could not get the lighting right that day! Even though I took a bazillion pictures. Two, I forgot to take a before picture!

When my brother was in the Air Force and stationed in Italy many years ago, he shipped this huge (and heavy!) antique hutch to my mother. It really is a pretty cool piece of furniture. It has a pull-out cutting board, that I am assuming was once inlaid with marble. It was not just a decorative piece; it was a working part of someone's kitchen many, many years ago.

It's been a little over twelve years that my mother (and father, but he doesn't have a hutch) has lived with us. This hutch sits next to a perfectly sized wall in our dining/family room area. It is so very heavy that it has always stayed in the same place.

My mother also has an extensive collection of red glass dishes. She has collected them for probably over thirty-five years. I love using them. Red is such a versatile color! I can use them for Valentine's Day, Christmas, and all the patriotic holidays!

Her dishes have sat in the hutch for many more years than she has lived with us. However, no one ever commented on them. No one ever really saw them! The hutch is so dark (black and dark brown) and the dishes such a deep red, everything just blended. The "red holidays" would pass and even I would forget I had them!

So, after twelve years, I finally did something about it! (Yes, it did take a long time to even realize there was a problem!)

Here is a picture half-way through the project:




I covered the back of the hutch with scrapbook paper. So easy. Not a new idea, I know. I've seen it done all over blogland. But, it was an idea that worked!






This dishes are visible now. Enough so that I'll remember to use them!

The House is Quiet

The house is quiet tonight. The Gombojavs have gone home. They went home a little earlier than I wanted (and planned), but their daddy missed them.

The house is quiet tonight. It is not filled with squeals of laughter or stifled giggles. It is not filled with children asking for a drink of water, string cheese, a granola bar, or a popsicle. It is not filled with urgent requests to go potty. It is not filled with the sound of running feet. It is not filled with the banging of the back door as children go outside to play and then back inside to get another toy or a brief rest out of the heat. It is not filled with the noise of hungry children filling the kitchen. It is not filled with Mommy, Papa, and Nana's voices telling children to be quiet and go to sleep.

It is also not filled with loads of hugs and sweet kisses. It is not filled with the dearest of sounds, children calling, "Nana!" It is not filled with the rocking of a baby to sleep. It is not filled with the watching of children playing in the playground made for them and for the pool bought with them in mind. It is not filled with the sweetness of sleeping children's faces.

Deep sigh.

Okay, to lift the mood of this post, I give you a sampling of Luc's (age 4) photography. I love giving the children freedom with my camera -- a luxury other generations of children didn't get (the cost of film and development totally prohibited that!). They see things from different viewpoints than we do. They see importance in things we do not. They see beauty that we often miss. Or don't even understand.

Enjoy. And feel free to ooh and ah.

Grandpa

Grandma

Grandma's foot. Luc's feet.

Grandma and laundry

Fan was on. This thrilled him that he took the picture so fast!

Yes, that's a pig nose.

Izzy.

Odie.

Good job, Luc!

Concerts in the Park

Our town sponsors "Concerts in the Park" every Friday night during the summer. We've enjoyed several (pictures in this post are from two of those evenings) this summer. Our city park looks just like a park in the movies. Gazebo bandstand in the middle and all. Music for these concerts span the genres. Tonight was Big Band/Swing night.

Hundreds show up bringing their picnic dinners with them.

Daja "catered" ours. Of course, it was delicious!

There is a dance floor up front, but Daja and her partners danced around our picnic quilt!

A Day of Water

So, what are they looking at?

The elephant seals!

Even Grandpa joined in on the fun!







We had a great day at the beach. There weren't too many seals, but it was still interesting because the bulls are molting.

After seeing the seals, we went to the playground by the sea (no pictures), and then to play in the surf. No pictures of that, either, because I was too busy saying, "Come back! Don't go so far! Careful!" I finally gave up and said, "Let's go eat!"
Israel, especially, has no fear. He loved the ocean. Unfortunately, our shores are not swimmer-friendly.

When we got home, it was time for ice cream cones. Of course, they ate these outside! I saw how sticky their hands and faces were and how dirtly all those little feet were, so I brought out a bucket of water and a bunch of rags. I told them to wash their faces, their hands, and then their feet. They thought that was great fun. They then asked if they could wash something else. Sure, wash the playground tables and playhouse.

Wow! Did they ever go overboard! They washed every little (and big) thing in the playground. Then they asked for more water and went at it some more! By the time they came in -- way after dark -- that playground was probably spotless!!!

It was a fantastic day! Just ask Captain!