"Living Life" and Happy Memories

Last week on our way to my doctor's appointment in Gainesville, which is almost an hour's drive,  we stopped half way for an early lunch at a little cafe', "PJ's", where we've often stopped enroute to and from appointments.  It's a small town cafe', with friendly people and good food. A great place to collect our thoughts and discuss the "what if's" on the way and the "so now what?" thoughts on the way home. I've taken pictures of their interesting signs on the walls before, but never this one. We sat in a different spot than usual and this poster was above our table on the wall.  

(By Bonnie Mohr)

I hope you can read it okay. If not, click on the picture to enlarge. I like what it says.

I thought it to be a  sobering and inspirational message for anyone, anytime. I'm not sure which phrase is my favorite...maybe this one:

"Love your life and what you've been given, it is not accidental~search for your purpose and do it as best you can."  And then the other one, "Recognize the special people you've been blessed to know."

Wow! How many are there? So many I can't count them all...but if I took the time to really think about it, I could probably write a book.  However, to be honest, I'd like to say that YOU are each special people that I've been blessed to know! You each contribute something unique and interesting and inspiring just by being you and sharing yourself with us. Thank you for being you. Perhaps you can share which of the phrases above speaks to you...just a thought.

Meanwhile, this life that is not a race keeps moving forward, one day at a time. Since I last wrote, what have we been doing? Let me think...Oh, on Saturday our church had an indoor "picnic" at our church parsonage. It was meant to be our 4th of July celebration, but really it was just a gathering of people who wanted to be together, sharing food and fellowship and enjoying the day.  We actually call this our monthly "Agape Dinner". 

Agape (Ancient Greek ἀγάπη, agapē) is a Greco-Christian term referring to unconditional love, "the highest form of love, charity" and "the love of God for man and of man for God".

Once a month we gather on a Saturday for a pot luck lunch, with no special agenda except to just be together. We weren't able to do this during last year's pandemic, so now people are more eager than ever to make up for lost time. Our little group that used to be just about 10 or 12 faithful folk has more than doubled  in size, and probably will continue to grow. We may have to move to a larger space, but for now we are happy breaking bread together and giving thanks to God for bringing us through a long difficult year. I am sorry I forgot to take some pictures...I had planned to, but totally forgot because I was busy eating and talking.  Oh well, you get the picture! 

Speaking about love reminds me that I wanted to show you these pictures. My sister posted these on Facebook the other day, after she took a little ride to our hometown and drove by our old family home:

(Just added this photo...my Dad put the mailbox on this old plow many years ago. )

It still looks pretty much the same as when we closed the door on that house to our family memories for the last time, about exactly 10 years ago, after my father had passed away and we finally settled the estate and sold the house to a lovely older neighbor lady who knew my parents and wanted to keep this house for her own family to come to for visits.  We were all happy that it was going to someone who would love it and take care of it the way our parents had done for the 54 years that our family had lived there.  My Dad built the house in 1957 when we moved to Florida from Pennsylvania.  His Dad also helped him with some of the construction.  It became the family gathering place for most of the holiday dinners  and gatherings throughout all those years. Talk about "if these walls could talk"...what a wonderful story they would tell.

The only real difference in the appearance is that green paint on the eaves and gable. It used to be a rustic brown, like the shutters on that window above and the trim around the other windows. I'm not crazy about the green, but it isn't my home anymore, so I have no vote.

I personally have not been back by my old family home except maybe once. It's just too painful for me.

This is the carriage house/garage/workshop that my dad built out behind the house.  Looks like it is becoming a bit overgrown with trees, but it looks like a fresh coat of paint, so I am sure it's fine...

Below was our first Christmas in that house.  No carpet on the bare concrete floors, the brick walls had not been painted yet...there wasn't even a screen on the fireplace, which was our main source of heat at that time.  And that tree! Oh my!  Something cut out of the woods...Florida scrub pine...not exactly picture perfect, but I think you can tell we were still happy and having a great Christmas. Me with my Doctor kit that I wanted more than anything! LOL.

This might have been the next year, because the house looks a little more finished. We are all admiring the turkey as it came out of the oven.  The kitchen cabinets were all built by my dad, who was a master cabinet maker.  The kitchen was state of the art for the time...a built in wall oven: turquoise!  It lasted for many years before it was replaced with an almond colored oven.

That's me holding my baby doll and admiring the turkey. I haven't changed much.

Just added this photo...my sister Doris and I washing the dishes. The "state of the art" kitchen did NOT have a dishwasher except for us, and also the house did not have air conditioning until years later.

Fast forward to about the year 2000...and here is my Dad, "Grandpa Choo-Choo", showing my first (and only) grandson Noah and my son Matthew his toy train collection. Yes, my Dad was really into trains, and his collection was something people came to see from all over...but the grandkids and great grandkids loved it the most, and he loved showing it to them and running the trains and making them do all their special things...Choo-choooooooo, chugga chugga choo choo....

(doesn't Noah look impressed? As impressed as any 4 month old baby could be!)

That same year: four generations, My parents, me, my son Matthew, and his son Noah...now they are all in heaven except for Noah and me. Noah will be 22 years old this October. Wow, time sure flies.

Easter 2005, my parents and my siblings.

Russell, (RIP), me, Clifford, Doris

Dorothea and Bill Mursch

And the majority of their grandchildren and great grandchildren, Easter 2005. There were a few missing from this picture.

(You can see the corner of the Carriage House in the background)

Yes, if those wall could talk...they would hear the love and laughter bouncing off the walls of that house...and most of all the "sweet nothings" that my parents whispered to each other every day and night that they spent together in that home.

I'll just put this picture here again to think about...