Monday, January 2, 2012

My Own Definition Of Love

You know, I write a lot about whatever is happening at the moment, what makes me mad, what makes me sad, what I believe in and for what I am thankful. I spent part of my day in the country and I remembered everything about it that I love. Driving home, my brain was cycling all the loves of my life faster than I could process each thought as it washed through. I got home, and it was still happening, and usually when I can't turn it off, I just have to write about it.

So for some of the things I love..here goes:


That Mims refers to dogs as the nationality of their owners, i.e; "That cute Mexican dog almost chewed my ankles off today."

That when my Mother is feeling especially soft, she pronounces my name like my Sara MaMa (her mother) did when I was a little girl "Meechelle".

That I can close, what is usually the worst day of the week, Monday, out with an episode of Mike and Molly.

That my absolute all-time favorite go-to sandwich is still a PB&J. 

That when I walk by our boat shed in December, I can still smell the ever so faint scent of lake water.

That on the days I need a laugh the most, my Daddy always calls my Mama to the phone when I call by saying "Jean, Jean, it's your oldest daughter Michelle, the one who lives in Quincy. Jean, Jean, can you hear me"...as he turns back to the phone and tells me "I've had a hard time keeping her awake all day, you know how us old folks get".  It still cracks me up, every single time.

That I have managed to raise one son, who has practically no temper at all. Ever.

That I can now afford a vehicle that cranks up, every single time I turn the key.

That my Pink Cherry Blossom trees bloom in late January, early February when everything else is cold, gray and dormant.

That even though I am miles ahead of them in years, both of my sons are already so much wiser than me.

That my MaMa Eloise passed on her insatiable love for words and books to me and that I was able to successfully pass the same onto my children.

That at least once a month, on some channel, I can see Sweet Home Alabama for the umpteenth zillion time.

That every time I open my Grandaddy's wallet, it still smells like him.

That my friend has turkeys simply for their awesomeness and the noises they make, and not to eat.

That after all these years, I still have the crayon written note my baby sister shoved under my door that said " If you don't play cards with me I will runny away".

That Mims can always tell, even in the dark, where he can't see me or hear me, that he's hurt my feelings.

That I was raised to never leave my kitchen in a mess. No matter what disaster may come, I will never have to worry about being part of a Channel 10 news story and anyone talking about my trashy, nasty kitchen. 

That I know which male in my house has walked into a room before me, by the smell that lingers when they are gone. 

That while I do not create or decorate as artistically as my Dad, I can copy and emulate like nobody's business and I've come to  love my own method as much as his.

That of all the teapots I now have from purchases of my own or gifts, that my Sara MaMa's teapot that sat on her stove was the first I ever owned and I still have it on showcase with all my others.

That the slippery, jelly-like warm feeling I get in my stomach when Mims hugs me is still there. Just as strong. Even after thirteen years.

That I have three swings in my yard, so I can sit in a swing and look at the trees and smell the fresh air in my front yard, my back yard, and from my front porch. 

That somebody invented sweat pants and comfy bedroom shoes. During the cold winter months, I am rarely without either.

That two women taught me in less than 365 days how to talk to Jesus again. Day after day, for someone other than myself. And reminded me, that prayer does work. 

That no matter how many times it happens, when I cannot loosen the top on something, I began to question my manner of twisting and have to say in my mind "righty tighty, lefty loosey."

That both of my sons know me better than I know myself some days, and neither minds putting me in my place. 

That Amazing Grace is still my favorite gospel song and can still make me cry when a group of people sing it.

Everybody should take the time to sit down and make a list some day. You'd be surprised what you come up with, some of the things on your list will be thoughts that never even cross your mind. Once you open the gateway, and unlock the memories, the thoughts will flow. And when you're done, it will be impossible not to get up and walk away feeling so much better than when you sat down. I enjoy breaking down my thoughts so that I can appreciate all the things I don't give enough credit. Write your own list. Let me know how it goes.

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