Sharing Gifts

I have always felt that each person is given a special gift. For some it is the loyalty they display in each friendship they acquire, for others it can be a great smile, the ability to make people laugh,being able to do a math problem without taking the class, being a great athlete, knowing when someone needs comfort, or one of those people that just...helps. I have always labeled myself as "the entertainer". I provide entertainment in many forms to those around me. Sometimes it is with chatter in an otherwise silent room, sometimes its making people laugh, other times it is to be a listener, sometimes it's making those comments that everyone is thinking but no one will say...(oops)  and then there's that gift of music.

I've been having this feeling for several years that I need to be sharing it. Not wanting, but needing. Not in the form of on stage with a mic, although I have done that, but just sharing.  I no longer really want to be up in front performing. I much prefer singing with friends just because we want to. The other evening I got a chance to do just that. A couple friends and I got together for a wonderful lady who is a hospice patient. We sang songs she picked out, songs others picked out and just enjoyed the night. 2 1/2 hours later....I walked out exhausted, but joyous.

 I had looked around to see the banjo player with the talented fingers pickin' out a tune, the guitar player who knows every song out there and plays with ease. Their wives, and children joining in. The wonderful lady on her last moments in this world holding a downs baby who fell asleep to the music in her arms. I looked at my very good friends who are guitar and piano players and wonderful singers and thought...wow...this is what I hope the next chapter of my life brings.

I was right in that I need to share my own gift.

When my father passed away I would play the piano and pretty much just read the music and follow along. Shortly after he was gone I felt this urging to fill in between the notes. I start adding things here and there and soon these songs became... me.  At some point I had tears running down my face as I heard my father say "that's it. Keep going".  Now I know that when I sing it's a part of me, my father and the gifts he shared (violin, mandolin, guitar,mouth harp, harmonica and singer) that molded me into who I am. I did need to share. I DO, need to share, present tense. I need to share for me, to bring smiles to others, to appreciate those around me and start filling a spot in my heart that has been aching for quite some time.

God gives us talents that we need to expand I guess. In order for me to fill full, I need to give. And that's what I intend to to.

Book 2

Today my youngest daughter received her graduation announcements. I guess it's final now. She is going to graduate and I will be an empty nester with all four of my kids off on their own. Did time really go by that fast? It seems like not so long ago that I had one child racing on her horse long curls flowing, a son mastering the art of southpaw pitching, the next child falling in love with every animal she saw and then this last one, toddling along behind everyone, fearless.  They have all started their own adventure and now, I guess, it is time for me to start my own. I'll be creating my own little bucket list. A list of realistic things. No bungee jumping for this girl. Crazies. But I may save money to go to Hawaii, or get back into singing, join a Zumba class, take an art class, spend more time at the lake, work on the landscaping or get back into growing flowers for my friend D. My life is no longer on hold. Maybe that isn't the right phrase because I don't regret it. Not for a minute.  I think I will look at it as one of those books that says "book 2" right in the middle. Now.....where to start....

Billy Joel - Lullabye (Goodnight, My Angel)

Memory of a father

Every Mother's Day I think about my father.  I remember all the Mother's Day's we had as kids and the things my dad would do for my mom. When I got older he would do those things for me. Buy me flowers, show up with a Rhodie or Rose bush for my yard. Sometimes it was just a candy bar, sometimes earrings. You never knew. Always a hug and kiss. I miss my dad more than I can say. I envy those who have their fathers into their own ripe old age. I have some friends who lost a parent at a young age and I am grateful to have had mine father into my twenties. But that doesn't stop the ache.  Recently on Facebook friends added their mom's picture in honor of Mother's Day. I added both my parents.  I found myself  looking at the smiling face of my father and a flood of memories came crashing in. It was nice to know that I hadn't forgotten how he looked, his laughter or his voice. It makes my heart flip flop to remember some of the teen memories and young adult memories. I sure could of used my dad's input and support on some of the adult life decisions I've had to make. I really think my life would of taken a different path if he had been here. Or maybe I would of ended up in the same place without so much heartache. who knows? Anyway, I came across a Billy Joel song that I hope one day will be how my children feel about me. As it is how I feel about my dad.

I didn't intend this blog to be sad or wistful. Nor did I intend "Cobwebs in the Corner" to be a therapy session. Sometimes things could out of our fingers that we have worked hard to seal in our brains. : )
Here is a list of things that remind me of my dad. Feel free to add your own.

Music

singing
laughing
working in the dirt
large sunflowers that are 8 feet tall
old vehicles
overalls
the smell of just cut grass
a breeze
Old Spice
"tut tut smells like rain" (and it does)
suspenders
dimples
warm hands
smile lines
a warm house
the Christmas tree lit up when I wake up in the morning

just to name a few...

how lucky I am

I just got done watching a video on Roger Ebert and his loss of voice. He has had Cancer which robbed him of a jaw bone . After several bouts with reconstructive surgeries failing and other complications he ended up with a  loss of voice . He is quite interesting, jovial and his sense of humor suprised me. He, through other people, said some very profound things.

All of his got me to thinking...how lucky am I.  I have dealt with some sad, disturbing and sketchy things in my life and sometimes even allowed myself to drown in a pitty party. Luckily, I had family and friends who were patient and caring. They allowed me to find my own way. It has been tough for sure. But so enlightening. I have not had to deal with any physical tragedies. All  my tough spots were my own doing and I have since learned that it doesn't matter what you do you can always make a choice to change your choices, if that makes sense.

I have a voice. I intend to use it while I can. To help lift other people, to express an opinion, to say things of value, to yell for my kids at a ball game, to tell my family they mean everything to me. I will not use it to benefit my own temper or to devalue another human being. I keep thinking...if today were the last day I had a voice...what would I say? What would I sing? Will anyone listen?

competitive? Not me.

I've often been asked "where you kids get their competitive nature?" To this I answer "oh it must be their dad" or I say "it's from spending time with an older brother."  When my kids were learning to play ball the common phrase was "catch it or eat it". (Just don't let the ball get past you.)
  Well, this last weekend I spent time with some friends, young and old. I mean, mature. Not old. After a wonderful dinner we decided to play a brisk game of spoons. For those of you who don't know how to play spoons, it reminds me a bit of musical chairs in that there is not enough spoons on the table for all participants. 4 cards are dealt to each person. The dealer starts discarding cards to their left and the cards go around the table until someone has 4 of a kind in their hand. That person then takes a spoon off the table. Each person must quickly grab a spoon and the person without is eliminated from the game.   Each round one more spoon is taken off the table.  This continues until there is only the last two and the person ending up with the spoon is the winner. Generally the by the time you get to the last two it is anticlimactic but the rounds before have hands flying everywhere! It is very exciting and noisy. Well, we played one game fairly quickly and decided to play another. It all was going rather smooth until the player next to me reached for the same spoon as me. I think he excpected me to let go. (not happening) I ended up on the floor, trying to wrangle this spoon from the young buck. Each time his hand would slip I got more determined to hold on. I started strategizing and then realized I was stratagizing about a game of spoons. Seriously? I found myself being drug across the floor. I knew his hands had to be getting tired, mine were burning and beginning to slip. His slipped. Aha! Mine! Alas though, he was stronger, younger and more determined than I .He was able to wrench the spoon from my deafeated burning  hands.  I laid face down on the floor like the Olympic loser and he held the now bent spoon up in the air in a statement of triumph.  Never had a game of spoons been so dramatic! 

So in answer to ...where do my kids get their competitive nature?  well, I prefer to look at it as a will to survive , never quit and accept that sometimes ya just gotta lose with grace. 

A memory was made that day.

And I'm pretty sure I'm on someone's camera being drug across the floor by a spoon.

great.

getting started

Today is  my first day blogging. How interesting that I enjoy reading what others think but have kept my own musings to myself. So not like me!  I have decided that to better my own mental game I could use this as a form of therapy.  It may contain quips, ideas on horoscopes, fun family facts, or just my own view on silly things I come across. I have named it Cobwebs in the Corner after an assignment I once had in high school where we had to describe what we would find in the brains of classmate that we felt fit a "stereotype".  Being the smart aleck I am, I used class clown and generally had most of his brain filled with buzzing hand shakes, dumb jokes, insecurities and lots  of empty space filled with cobwebs. In reality, cobwebs are a mask of those things that we don't want to discover and places in our lives we rarely visit.  I have chosen to delve into mine. Scary thought. Maybe I don't want to go there.  So...welcome, while I explore the Cobwebs in the Corners of my mind.