Gracie Scores

Last week I attended my granddaughter’s, Mary Grace, 7 years old, softball game. I also spent time with her sisters, Charlotte, 5, and Molly 2.

The team only plays for four innings but I got to see Gracie at bat three times. She hit the ball twice, got on base twice and scored a run one of those times. The fact that she hit the ball was a treat for me and her family. It isn’t how much you praise those kids or tell them that they can do it, but it is actually hitting the ball that brings a big smile to their face and boosts their confidence, and makes them feel like part of the team.

Some of those little girls can really hit a ball. They are also pretty cute in their oversized uniforms, crazy sock, and batting helmets that are way too big for their heads. Gracie has a pretty good batting form.  The first game that I watched, she kept striking out and I knew that she seemed frustrated and seemingly lost interest in the game. But the second game was fantastic. The most awesome part was watching her smile spread ear from ear when her bat connected with the ball. The smile grew even wider as she ran and scored a homerun, with her holding on to the too big helmet and her long socks down to her ankles. She looked like a winner at that moment.

All the cheering and encouragement helps. The kids love knowing that their family is there for them and the parents, relatives and friends love watching the girls. We are there to cheer on the girls and no one has any more expectations that that. Just watching the kids have fun and learn as they are doing it is what counts.

Here’s to you Gracie – a big high five from your proud grandmother with love!

My Mustang - Longstreet

Its spring, and time to get my Mustang inspected, an oil change, and take to the open roads. When I was young, my father promised me a new Mustang, every year, if I didn’t get married. Looking back I would have loved that classic 1964 Mustang. And it would have been red. Of course if I took the Mustang – I wouldn’t have had my beautiful children and all my grandchildren. Anyway, that is water over the dam.

In 1999, when my last child graduated from high school, my then husband bought me a Celtic green colored Mustang. Wow – who knew that I could have it all? Well, I couldn’t. My husband became my ex. But I still have that cool Mustang. Despite being 13-years-old, it still looks great, and it has almost 40,000 miles on it. It’s a sweet looking ride.

I love starting up the car because the motor roars like a Mustang. While driving on the turnpike, it is hard not to hit 85 miles per hour. It is a smooth ride. But once in a while it bucks. Hey – it’s a Mustang.

Like a history nerd, I gave my Mustang a name – Longstreet. One would quibble that my car is named after a southern general, James Longstreet, who I happen to have read every history book written about him. I admire him for being a great military general and tactician on the battle field. Instead of choosing the name of his horse, Hero, I named my car for the General that I happen to admire!

April Shower...

April showers not only bring floods and May flowers, but by my calculations and looking at my calendar, April brings at least 22 birthdays. At least 20 of the birthdays are for my family and two are for a few friends. Sometimes there are a couple of birthdays in the same week and sometimes some of the celebrations are on the same day. I calculate that in May there are 6 birthdays, June, 6; July, 5, and August 5. That’s a lot of birthdays. It is also a lot of gifts, cards, greetings, wrapping paper, parties, food, ice cream and cake! By the time August ends, I definitely hate listening to the Happy Birthday song and eating that birthday cake!

After August, I have a break, but a few other birthdays occur in October and November. Then along comes November and I start my Christmas shopping for my 9 children, 5 daughters-in-law,1 son- in- law, my daughter’s fiancée, 17 grandchildren, and a few friends. That’s a lot of shopping and wrapping gifts, and it takes quite a while to haul all those presents downstairs for our Christmas Eve celebration.

But right now, I’m too exhausted from thinking about all of this and I need to sit down and rest.

Bee Gees Live on...

I have been a Bee Gee’s fan for a very long time. I own every record/CD that they have ever made. I also possess a small record player, lunch box and thermos with their images on each.

In 1997, after they were inducted into the Rock-n-Roll Hall of Fame, I traveled to Las Vegas for the first of many of the Bee Gees’ ‘One Night Only’ concert tours. Despite the cost of the tickets and sitting way up in nose bleed heaven…the concert was well worth it. They were master entertainers.

The Bee Gees hit the music scene in the 60s, became a hit, broke up, and came back together as a group. They were catapulted to fame again when they wrote the sound track to Saturday Night Fever. From that album, they would have five of their songs on the top ten music charts, all at the same time. They were now in the super star ranks and the album was the bestselling number one album of all times, only to be surpassed by Michael Jackson’s Thriller.

When a back lash occurred toward disco music, the Bee Gees once again left the music scene. They still produced their own music but they became prolific writers, penning #1 hit songs for other musician/singers like: Dionne Warwick, Diana Ross, Kenny Rogers, Dolly Parton, and Frankie Valli.

The Bee Gees were international stars and up until the deaths of Maurice and Robin, they were still popular and seem to come back every so often with a CD and song in the popular music charts.

Now there is only one member of the group left, Barry. But all I have to do is pop in one of their CDs and I can still enjoy the music of Barry, Robin and Maurice – the Bee Gees.

Shamed by my Grandson

Every time that I would walk through one of my children’s rooms when they were younger, I pretty much had to shovel a pathway. There would be clothes, and book and toys blocking my every step, like land mines. Just like a point guard on patrol, I had to pick my steps carefully as not to trip or step on something and break it, or fall or break something on my body.

Then a few of my grandchildren have come back with their fathers and lived with me for a few years. One granddaughter in particular could have rivaled my kids for the Messy Room Award.

Any time that Bayleigh had to clean her room, she would leave one area in the middle of the room that was sparkling clean. Yet, if you looked along her walls, it was like rolling hills of clothes and toys piled up and they actually reached the window ledges.

The hot spot was under her bed. That was where she swept everything …toys, more clothes, and trash. I would uncover her hot spot when I ran a dust mop under the bed and unearthed all her treasures.

But flash forward to the present…a few days ago my oldest grandson, Matthew, was in my bedroom with me. I was showing him one of my autographed football jerseys. While we were talking, Matthew told me that my bedroom was nice (that was sweet), but it was messy (that was truthful).

Boy! He was right! The next day, out of shame, I cleaned my bedroom.  When I had finished it, there was absolutely nothing on my floor except a cleaned wooden floor. Everything was put away or thrown away. I was pretty proud of how it looked, all thanks to my grandson who shamed me into cleaning it.

Maybe if I had realized that shame was an all-important five letter word, I would have used it on my kids and my grandchild.

Baby Shower

It was a perfect day for a Baby Shower. It was as if God scripted this one. Everything fell into place. Just about every guest showed up. Everyone had a wonderful time. My daughter-in-law received some beautiful and thoughtful presents like the hand crochet baby blankets from hermother, a Godmother's beautifully drawn picture, to all those adorable baby clothes and more.

The food was plentiful and delicious. There was so much leftover that anyone who wanted could take some home with them.

Even the weather cooperated. Outside, the sun was shining and the air was filled with the sweet aroma of flowers blooming.

Now all we have to do is wait for the healthy arrival of Juliette Presley Gauntner. Then eveything will be perfect.

Violin

I spent a little over two hours at a music concert for the elementary strings concert at Plum High School Auditorium. This program was the Spring Concert for Beginning, Intermediate and Advanced orchestra and also the 6^th Grade Spotlight of students.

 My granddaughter, Mika, 10, was part of the concert. She is in the 5^th grade, part of the Advanced Orchestra, and has been playing the violin for a few years. My son looked over the program and couldn’t find her name. I looked, spotted it and said, “Look, she is in the First Chair.” That surprised my son and he didn’t know what that meant. I assured him that meant that she was pretty good at the violin to be sitting in the First Chair for the Advanced Orchestra. My granddaughter never mentioned that fact to my son. Either Mika is pretty humble or she hasn’t quite processed that honor yet.

The evening was delightful. I was amazed at how well all those students played. There were a number of solos highlighting the 6^th graders. They played like pros. All the students were as good as any professional Symphony Orchestra.

There were about 160 students who participated, mostly on violins, a few violas and cellos. But in the two hours of playing not one squawk or squeal was emitted from those instruments. The notes and music that flowed through the instruments sounded like pure heaven.

The final solo was performed by a 6^th grade violinist who played the beautiful and moving song, The Prayer. She played it for the memory of her friend, who sat in orchestra by her but was killed this past year, along with her sister and mother in a flash flood.

I was proud to be part of the audience and enjoyed the evening, watching my granddaughter, Mika, being with my family, and especially the one haunting song in tribute of one silenced violin.

Grandson's First Communion

Last Sunday, I attended my grandson, Tyler’s, First Holy Communion. He along with five other second graders received Holy Communion for the first time. Tyler wore a suit, looked grown up and cute. Along with Tyler’s parents in attendance were his grandparents, and a few aunts and uncles.

While watching Tyler, I noticed he didn’t seem nervous at all. He actually seemed pretty comfortable for it being a special day. The priest was great with the little communicants. He seemed to really know them and had a special rapport with the children. While he talked to the children, he apologized for not being able to attend the reception after Mass for them. He had to rush to another church to say Mass. But he did promise that he would be taking them out to Chuck E. Cheese for a celebration soon, and that was when I heard my grandson give a loud excited response. Chuck E. Cheese is his favorite place to go to.

During the Mass, I actually started to recall my First Communion day, which happened to be a very long time ago. That day, the church was filled with two classes of second graders. We filled the first six pews across the front of the church. Behind us, filling up the church were our parents and families.

But the boys were seated on the right hand side, wearing suits. The girls filled the left side with white first communion dresses and veils. I remember that I spent most of the time, tying and retying my veil because it kept getting loose and I was afraid that it was going to fall of my head.

For Catholics, receiving the sacred host is the focal point of the Mass. I also remember in those days that when you received communion it was placed directly on your tongues and you couldn’t chew it but waited until you were able to swallow it. I still remember that I felt a mixture of being nervous and pure joy with the mystery of receiving Holy Communion.  Now, just like the big people, I would be one of them and would be able to participate fully in the Mass, along with my parents and brother.

Whatever happens along the way, my grandson is a pretty lucky little guy with all the support he had on his First Communion Day. I hope every Sunday, for the rest of his life that when he receives Communion, he will be filled with the same awe and joy that he had on his First Communion Day.