He Called Me “Daughter”��
My father-in-law often called me “Daughter.” I never asked why, I simply assumed he thought of me as such. Having only one child—my husband—I prefer to think he loved me because of my love for his son. When my brand new husband was overseas in the U.S. Army, Carl’s dad took care of any car problems I…
Read More >
I Love Spring
For those who read last month’s column concerning Jay’s surgery, it was rescheduled for May instead of April, so at the time of this writing I have no news. I thank you for continued prayers for a safe procedure and miraculous recovery, and for the sweet notes I have already received. I treasure your kind words…
Read More >
Please Pray for Jay
My column this month is not my norm. It concerns the health of my son, Jay, who has Down syndrome, a communication disorder, and severe heart disease. Doctors never gave us hope of seeing this child live into adolescence, yet here he is turning 43 years old on April 7th. I call it a miracle. Jay…
Read More >
Letter To My Son
Dearest Aaron, This month, on your St. Patrick’s Day birthday, I wish I could explain just how much I love you. Impossible, as any parent knows. The only way you can relate is your love for your own children. Know that I love you just as much. Even with a half-century gone by, I love…
Read More >
Mayberry, USA
Sometimes I want to live in Mayberry, USA, where nothing really bad happens. Where the only lawmen are a kind sheriff and a crazy deputy who seldom have anything to do because the townspeople always keep the peace. I want to attend that little church where the ladies are excited to perform in new choir robes…
Read More >
Always Keep In Touch
A few years ago an old college friend contacted me through our alumni site. Ellen and I had lived and worked in the same dorm at NSU in Tahlequah. We attended the Baptist Student Union and even took self-defense classes together. It was great to hear from her. Of course, we became Facebook friends, showing off…
Read More >
Memories of the Heart
With Christmas approaching, my heart stirs up precious, old memories. Simple things that never made their way onto the pages of my writing. Little things, like my daddy making white divinity at Christmas. No, he was not the cook in our home, and I have no idea how that came to be. I only know…
Read More >
Broken!
Broken! I love trees, especially with fall colors, and have more than two-dozen gracing my yard. But if I had to choose a favorite, it would probably be the weeping willow. In our first home, my late husband, Carl and I had a beautiful willow. In the winter, its ice-adorned branches resembled a giant chandelier….
Read More >
A Small World
It’s a Small World I often go to northwest Arkansas to visit my son, Aaron and his family. When I go, I may spend a few weeks rather than a weekend, so my son, Jay and I stay in a private home in Bella Vista. It’s comfortable and I enjoy the people and small town…
Read More >
Visiting Mr. Wilson
Visiting Mr. Wilson Today as I drove past a nursing home with beautiful crape myrtles blooming at the windows a memory came to me. Years ago, our church developed a program to “adopt” some people in nursing homes who had few friends or family to visit them. My children were young. Jay was a…
Read More >
Mama’s Birthday Call
Mama’s Birthday Call August is my birthday month and my family has a tradition of calling each other on such occasions. Since I have four brothers and one sister we sometimes do phone tag, and of course, my oldest son always calls me. But one of the most fun things is when my mother calls…
Read More >
