Watermelon thoughts of Claire

I’m not the best blogger.  I’m not the best at a lot of things, I guess.  Life kind of gets in the way. And then, something just happens to you...just out of the blue.  Like today.  I was cooking. It was nothing fancy...steak, potatoes with butter and parsley and salad.  I pulled pot holders down from the shelf to check the oven. They are crocheted and shaped like watermelon slices with seeds and all.  My sister made them for me...my baby sister.  I stared at those pot holders and lots of those “back-in-the-day” images flooded me.  You know the ones.  We all have them at some time or another.   My Mom is and was a beauty and my sister Claire is the spitting image of her. My baby sister is Claire...the little one, the pretty one, the popular one, the smart one, the driven one...and now, the sick one.  You see, my sister has Multiple Sclerosis...the primary-progressive kind.  That means there is no remission, no relief, no improvement.  My sister knew what she wanted to be almost from birth.  That would be a nurse.  She got one of those nurse outfits for her 4th  birthday and it hung in a place of honor in her closet for years.  I mean years...well into her 20s.  She even had the bag with the pretend syringe and candy pills.  When my brother got the measles and the family was supposed to go berry picking, she volunteered to stay home and take care of him.  She was only five and she sacrificed strawberry picking or rather eating in her case.  When I broke my arm, my mom made me suffer the indignity of having my little sis spoon feed me vegetable soup so she could be nurturing.  And that same mom of mine volunteered me as a guinea pig when my sister needed to practice administering shots when she was doing her clinical training...ouch.  I endured the hot sun at her college graduation.  When my Mom collapsed at home, in the middle of the night, you can’t even imagine how grateful I was that my sister, the nurse, was at home and knew what to do.  And we held hands at the funeral.  And, yes, she became a nurse and what a nurse she was!  She went on to earn her Master’s degree and almost achieved her PHD before the MS robbed her of her plans.  She worked at a hospital and even taught nursing to others. Even now, when she is not so clear in her thoughts, she still can give everyone smart advice about medical things.   Images of her cuteness and her smiling face keep floating in my brain.  I can see her in the Halloween costumes that my Mom always hand made and in her high school cheerleading uniform.  She played the saxophone and was Salutatorian of her high school class.   I can see her in her cap, gown and hood with her gorgeous smile.  But, I also see how she has deteriorated...how small and fragile she is.  Even though she repeats herself during conversation and she isn’t always coherent, she always remembers everyone’s birthday and calls to say “have a happy day”.  Her favorite color is pink and each time we talk, she tells me she needs an address book, some slippers (pink of course) and a wind up alarm clock.  Well, once again, I find myself talking to God .  I mean, I have two sisters and go figure, they both have MS.  How does that happen in one life?  And, why?  My other sister, Colette, has the relapsing/remitting kind of MS so she is not in the same shape as Claire.  Claire is in the hospital now.  She is probably headed for a nursing home because the medical folks keep throwing the words “constant care” around.   Claire is not that old.  As a matter of fact, the problem that presents is that many nursing homes will not take her because she is “too young”.   But, I don’t want to think about that.  I prefer the yesterday  images floating in my brain.  Something I saw prompted me to seek out Isaiah 40:29-31..”.He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak.  Even youths grow tired and weary; and your men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength.  They will  soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not faint. “  I am praying and hoping that Claire dreams about the same images that float in my brain.  I love you Claire and I know that you are soaring with the eagles...and I am praying for miracles.

Blessings,

Cherene

Boys and Toys!

Cleaning the garage is like going on a treasure hunt. I find all kinds of things. I found some of my boy's old toys. C'mon, who doesn't like toys? So, I asked them if they wanted to keep them and of course I was a bit surprised when they both responded with a quick "No, Mom. Throw them away". What!? But they're memories! How can you throw memories away. Okay, so I am a pack-rat, but memories are serious. I remember when these toys came to live at my house. I remember watching my boys play with them and the hours of delight they brought. The toys were always present when we watched their respective TV shows and they were great for keeping bouncy boys quiet at restaurants while we were waiting for our food. So, again, I ask,"How do you throw away memories"? Well, if you are me, you take pictures of them. Yeah, my boys shook their heads when I grabbed my camera and asked them to pick out some of their favorites. They teased me but they will appreciate the warm fuzzy feelings they get when they look at the pictures in the years to come. I can just hear them telling stories of how they played with the toys. And, I did get rid of them...well, sort of. I just did what any self-respecting pack-rat would do...I passed them on to my grand-twins. And you can bet I am going to take their pictures with those toys!

Can you name these toys?

Sting-Dragon Flyz-Power Ranger (Jason)-Pikachu-Mighty Ducks

Sting was a favorite!

Dragon Flyz were fun to launch!

BeyBlades!

Etch-A-Sketch and Legos

Sunglasses and Pooh!

So, what toys are you hiding in your garage or attic? :-D 

Blessings!

Cherene

Remember to cherish this journey we call life...your footprints are a gift from above!

Light

"I will love the light for it shows me the way, yet I will endure the darkness because it shows me the stars.”  ~ Og Mandino
When I came upon the above quote, it really spoke to me because I love light.  I love the warmth and light of the sun and I love gazing at the stars.  When I was a little girl and my family was driving somewhere at night, I would pretend that all the cars headlights and taillights were strings of rubies and diamonds.  I have stood in my share of fields at dusk to see the light of fireflies flickering in the air.  All three of my children were born when it was warm.  I sang lullabies to each one of them under glow of the stars in the night sky.  Even now, I love to stand outside under the night sky and pray.  I just feel closer to God when I am gazing at the beauty of the night sky.  I don't know why...I just love light.  I guess my love of light helps explain why I love photography so much.  The word "photography" comes from two Greek words.  Photo comes from "phos" and means light and graphy comes from "graphi" which means to write or draw.  The exact form in greek is fotografia. So, as a photographer, we write or draw with light.  Fascinating...



Fireworks in the park near my house.

The Grand Finale 

And, this is the sunset in the park!

Blessings!


Cherene
 Remember to cherish this journey we call life...your footprints are a gift from above.

 



Reluctant Model...Dutiful Son

My family teases me about my camera .  I love my camera!  Sometimes when we are getting into our mini van I will hear the old familiar phrase "Oh, no.  She is taking her camera" or the exasperation of "Are you going to bring your camera?".  Well, the answer is YES.  Did I say I love my camera? ☺Not too many weeks go by that I don't try to shoot something.  I use my children for inspiration as much as I can.  Sometimes they can be reluctant models though.  In these shots, I asked my son Jordan to climb into a bunch of bramble bushes in the park because I had an "idea".  I get lots of ideas...some good, some not so good.  But, hey, I am always trying to learn and to grow.  You can't do that if you don't try, right?  Even though I had to put up with some eye-rolling and sighing, my dutiful son crawled into those brambles.  I shot these images in black and white.  I like the dreamy quality.

He really did crawl through quite a few brambles!

I like the pensive pose but I think he was giving me the usual and customary "now you know I am not going to  smile, right?"

Another pensive pose...

I think this might be my favorite one!  I got to try out my ideas and I love the results.  What do you think?

Cherene

Remember to cherish this journey we call life...your footprints are a gift from above

Beauty Found

I collect angels.  I cannot explain why they appeal to me so much, but they do.  Perhaps it is because they represent love and hope.  Perhaps it is because they are so elusive.  Henri Mattise said, "There are always flowers for those who want to see them."  I think the same is true of angels.

Cherene

Remember to cherish this journey we call life...your footprints are a gift from above

A Jedi Knight

 Isn't the imagination of children wonderful? These images are of master Ethan pretending to be a Jedi Knight, light-saber and all.  ☺  It was freezing that day, but Ethan didn't care.  He was fighting to save the Empire!  Here's hoping that we never lose our sense of child-like wonder and imagination.  

Cherene

Remember to cherish this journey we call life...your footprints are a gift from above

Snowy Season

There is a big storm going on right now. The traffic is a mess and the roads are icy. It is a perfect time to remember the flowers. Martin Luther said "God writes the Gospel not in the Bible alone, but also on  trees, and in the flowers and clouds and stars." Believe it or not, I took this picture on November 11th. I can't believe this rose was still so glorious at that late date.  It helps me remember that winter is necessary and has it's own brand of beauty, but flowers are a wonderful creation. My memories of this rose will help me wait patiently for spring.

Cherene
Remember to cherish this journey we call life...your footprints are a gift from above.