Skip to main content

When the past becomes the present

When I was younger and lived in Farmington Hills, our neighborhood would rent a bus and we would go downtown to watch the Thanksgiving Parade. My most vivid memories of those excursions include the cold that would seep from the cold, concrete sidewalks into my boots and numb my toes and the cup of hot cocoa that turned quickly to lukewarm cocoa and last but not least, I remember a few of the floats. 





This year, I got to see the Parade from the warmth of the Episcopal Church's offices on Woodward Avenue while sipping warm coffee and eating delectable treats. While I may have missed the full technicolor, musical experience, my toes thanked me!

We spent Thanksgiving in Detroit at Michael's (my eldest) and Carmen's home. We could be starting a new holiday tradition - instead of gathering at the Douglas 'homestead'. Since Carmen is due to deliver the next generation, on December 14 we all agreed that she should not travel and we would celebrate together with them in their home. I was relegated to providing the appetizers and making the broccoli and cheese casserole. Michael made the turkey (gotta say it was the best I've had and not matter where we have it next year, he should be the one making it!) and the rest of the family provided all the other sides or desserts.

              


Madeline and Matthew in the back
Delaney and Nelli in the front
Michael is in charge


It was glorious! There is such joy, as a parent, watching your adult children 'adult' and do it so splendidly. I could see that this was something that they have longed to do, highjack all the cooking/managing/presenting the Thanksgiving feast. 

And in the end, I suppose, that's what parenting is all about. Raising them up to become capable adults. I feel I can now sit back and rest on my laurels. I just love them!

Comments

  1. Awesome! I remember your Uncle Jim and me going on that bus with ALL the nieces and nephews—at least 50 that year— to that parade while all my siblings stayed home and slept in! My camera froze up on about 5 minutes!!!!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

It's not a popularity contest, but ...

Old? Infirm?

A friend sent this article to me today: Are you Old? Infirm? I can relate. Though  I'm not old - despite what the three-year-olds in my Sunday school class say. And I am not infirm - and I'll wack over the head with my cane anyone, repeat anyone , that would call me that. I resemble Nancy in the article. She calls herself crippled. And Mr. Bruni wrote, " I confessed that I cringed whenever she called herself “crippled,” which she does, because she values directness and has a streak of mischief in her." I prefer the term 'gimp' and have also had others cringe when I say that. I like the term they arrived at "limited" but it's not perfect - maybe just a little more politically correct. I have felt that diminishment when in my wheelchair. But being a tad feisty and Irish, I fight that with every ounce of my being. My personality has always been a little on the large side and not very quiet or shy, so I make it a challenge to 'be see...

Treatment begins

Today is the first day of the rest of my life. Today is the day I begin, at last, treatment. Today is the day I begin to kick cancer's ass. Today is the day I start infusing ugly, nasty, side-affect laden, toxic chemicals for the greater good. Today is a day that I wish I could rewrite the script for completely deleting the part requiring me to need breast cancer chemo. And yet, here it is and at 1:15 EST I will be at the Cancer & Hematology Center in Holland. It's where I will be a lot for the next five months. It's where I will, I'm sure (and surety is something I have less of these days as I know not how I will respond to chemo), create new friendships and forge bonds with people that I am currently unfamiliar. Because that's who I am; a lover of people and a woman that wants to know and love on all the people she comes to meet.  I don't know why I have breast cancer but someday I will ask God (along with a whole bunch of other questions!). I do b...

holding on for dear life

  Tuesday was cool, the morning especially. And while working at the Book Nook I saw people dressed for two seasons -summer and fall. Lots of plaids, flannel and boots or booties worn by customers that I assumed were anxious for fall. Not me. I'm holding on to summer for dear life. I wore a sleeveless dress, sandals and a cotton sweater. I mean here in Michigan we will be donning those fall duds and not showing skin again for at least eight months. And while I'm not good at a math, I know that eight months is most of the year. According to my calculator that's 66 percent of the year (66.666667 to be exact - my math 094 professor at MSU would be impressed that I knew that if I'd done it myself. But I'm smart enough to use a calculator to come up with that - like I used to tell her every class "we don't need to know how to do that, we can just use a calculator". Pretty sure I wasn't her favorite).  Boy did I digress with that walk down memory lane. A...