Finally Home

Home (n.) An environment offering security and happiness; a valued place regarded as a refuge or place of origin.

I'm finally home. Not of the eternal variety, but the closest I can get while still constrained by this earthly body. And this earthly body is completely enjoying all the good food and even better company of my family.

We left Oklahoma Friday evening around 6:30 pm and arrived in Louisiana at 5:30 am, waking most of the house and doing our best to stretch our stiff legs after the 11 hour journey. The kids slept for a good bit of the trip and were ready to play, but Trevor and went to bed for a few hours. In retrospect, I think that we do the overnight thing again. Trevor and I just exhausted ourselves and the kids were too excited to sleep until after midnight at the prospect of going to Nannie and Papa's house so they didn't really benefit the way we had hoped.

The first few days of our visit have not gone exactly according to plan, because Nathan came down with one of his viral fevers (which is gone now and he's feeling much better) and what I thought was allergies turned out to be an upper respiratory infection. But a steroid shot, a Z-pack, a prescription for Allegra and a smallish bottle of codeine cough syrup later, I am feeling like a million bucks.

Ronna, Aunt Gail and I threw Amber a family baby shower, and she received so many nice things for baby Travis. It was good to see some of the extended family that we don't normally get to visit with when we visit, and Ronna gave a beautiful short devotional on the importance of putting God first, then her husband and finally her children. It was a good reminder for all of us that God has purposed this order for our good, and that our family life is far more pleasant and God honoring when we remember it.

It was halfway through the shower that I realized that my "allergies" were not allergies and I left the shower without helping with cleanup and went directly to bed. I slept for pretty much the rest of the afternoon and the next day until my doctors appointment, where I received the awesome arsenal of drugs that brought me back to my normal state.

We had Mama's surprise 60th birthday party last night, combined with Patrick's 40th birthday at a really cool restaurant called Tapitini's in Covington. The food was really good, and we had fun eating (of course) and visiting with everyone. Mama received a notebook written by Gramps in his hand detailing memories from his childhood and life, which was a priceless gift. Granny put a condition on the gift that Mama had to make copies for the rest of the family.

So I'm sitting here now (feeling 100% better) and enjoying a leisurely morning with the family, drinking coffee and watching Star Trek. We have nothing planned for today except going to visit the Grannies and a little shopping. Mama spent the weeks preceding our visit preparing and freezing most of the main meals, so we don't have to spend half of our day cooking for such a large group of people. We just pull it out in the morning to defrost and then heat it in the evening. It's been really wonderful to enjoy the tasty food without having to prepare it!

I'm looking forward to a day with no boundaries and the promise of more good company and remembering when.

The Blessings of Family

I love coming home from a trip. The whole enchilada, if you will. I love unpacking the suitcase and seeing our clothes neatly hung in straight rows or placed in careful piles in the drawers. As much as I dislike doing laundry, there is something gratifying about pulling the clean clothes out of the dryer and feeling the finality that all physical remnants of the trip are washed away. I love sleeping in my own bed with the familiar weight of my quilt and the comforting nighttime sounds associated with our house. Each load of laundry and rustle of the quilt whispers, "We're home, we're home!"

Having said that, we had a wonderful time with my family this past week. I can't remember the last time we able to stay for longer than a long weekend, and the extra days were such a blessing.

If you have seen the photo show from my post Friday, then some of what I blog about will seem familiar because you will have a photo to go along with the story. We left our house at 5 am Saturday, and arrived at Mama and Daddy's house around 10 am. I was amazed at how much Benjamin (my nephew, aka BB) had grown since January!! He was walking (running) around the house and is probably the most obedient child I have ever seen.

Patrick and Ronna approach discipline and correction from a biblical standpoint, and the results are astounding. I am sorry to say that Trevor and I used more secular, mainstream methods with Nathan and Grace until about a year and a half ago when we really started to understand what it meant to raise our children in a biblical way. It's amazing the way a child responds to authority (all authority and not just mom and dad), and to direction when they are taught biblical obedience from the very beginning.

Benjamin has moments like any other almost 2 year old, but the vast majority of the time he is happy, engaging and obedient. Any adult can ask him to "give" whatever he is holding, and he will immediately hand it to them. He responds to verbal instruction immediately, and he is one of the happiest babies I have ever come across.

When BB is asked, "Who loves Xanzie (or Nannie, or Daddy, etc)?" he thrusts his little hand in the air as though he is answering a question in class and yells, "I do!!" It is the sweetest thing I have ever seen and I wish that I had been able to capture it on film.

We spent most of our time lounging around and catching up with one another. The first night, Patrick, Ronna, Trevor and I stayed up until almost midnight discussing and debating theology. This is one of the main reasons that I enjoy my time so much with them...all the questions that I have had about my bible studies and personal reading that I have not been able to find satisfactory answers to, are fodder for discussion and teaching. I know that if I am having an issue with some area of my spiritual life, Patrick and Ronna are willing and able to help me discern the truth and to pray for me. Having a Christian family is quite possibly one the greatest blessings in this life.

The trip was filled with activity: Trevor and Patrick built a potting bench for my grandmother, Ronna and I worked on pages for a scrapbook that contained pictures of our family in Louisiana for BB, so that he would not forget us (they live in DC), and of course all of the cooking that went on. There is always cooking when we go home. I made chicken and dumplings one evening and a pork loin the next. Mix in the baking of cookies and cakes, and you have my mom's kitchen.

I was finally ready to go out the my uncle's house this trip. He passed away in January, and I have been home several times, but physically unable to go out to his house to see my aunt and cousin. It's not just the house....it's the property. It belonged to my great-grandfather and I have been going there my entire life. We climbed trees, played in the garden and had family reunions at Christmas. It seems as though my history as a human being is somehow tied up in that place....like the very cradle of my existence. I don't really know how to express such a feeling in words, but suffice it to say that I have had a serious issue with going back since Uncle Tellius' death.

When we turned down the road, I cried a few preemptive tears but when the house and property came into view, it looked just the same as it always had. I don't know why I was surprised by the normalcy of it all...maybe I was expecting it to look different because it felt different. But when I went inside, it looked just as it always had minus the greeting of "Hey baby!" from Uncle Tellius. I never realized until that moment how much that simple greeting made the experience of visiting them complete.

So, we are home and have just enough time to catch our breath before school starts Monday and our schedules change again. I laughed out loud at Karen's post about the first day of school and I too embrace the change in the fall. I am not a SAHM, but the kids are just more "into" things during the summer, and school brings with it a sense of calm that is not present during high summer! I look forward to the coming evenings at the kitchen table with Nathan, helping him with his homework and being a part of his educational growth.

Click to play Make your own Smilebox

Vacation Montage

Here is a picture/video montage from our trip home....

Photo and video editing at www.OneTrueMedia.com

One Last Getaway

I'm not sure if I will be able (or willing) to blog for the next week or so. We are going home to Louisiana for several days to see the family. My brother, sister-in-law (Patrick and Ronna) and nephew are flying down from Virginia to visit, so we decided to take this opportunity for one last getaway before school and all the craziness associated with it begins.

I have not seen my nephew, Benjamin, since January. He is 20 months old and although Ronna sends me frequent pictures and updates, it's not the same as being right there with him. I can't wait to see him walk in person, and to hear his little voice say, "All done!" and "I do!" when I ask him "Who loves Xanzie?"

"Xanzie?" you ask. "What an unusual (weird) name. Why not Aunt Xandra?"

I chose Xanzie (pronounced "zan-zee") because that is what my cousins called me when I was little. Allison could not pronounce Xandra (pronounced Zandra), so she started calling me Xanzie. She called her sister Coco (Courtney) and we called her Yay-yay. So, 30 years later, we are still calling each other those childhood names, and Allison was the first to use hers instead of "aunt" and Courtney and I followed suit.

Anyway, I am looking forward to seeing The Boy, and also for some catch up time with Ronna. God could not have blessed me more when it came to giving me a sister-in-law. She is a godly, spirit-filled woman and she is an encouragement to me. She and I are able to speak plainly to one another and I love her just as though she were a flesh and blood sister. Did I mention that we share an obsession for scrapbooking?

I have to confess that I am often so looking forward to seeing her, that I forget about my own brother! It's always good to see him because he challenges me intellectually and theologically. He's one of those people that not only knows the answer to most biblical questions, but can give you the interesting historical details and background information about it. He's a lawyer and his ability to logically explain and break down theological arguments is a true asset. It's also the very attribute that often drives me nuts because sometimes logic doesn't matter...Ronna and I wholeheartedly agree on this one! He's the kind of brother who gives you John Calvin's Institutes of the Christian Religion for your birthday. He rocks!

We'll be driving back to Texas Thursday which is also Nathan's "Meet the Teacher" night at school. It's hard to believe that it's that time of the year again. Let's hope that Hurricane Dean continues on his westbound track and that the low pressure system coming from the east doesn't push him north towards us.

So, we will enjoy this time with my family singing hymns around the piano, eating great food and telling the same old stories that we tell every time we get together. See ya in a week!

Travel Day

Well, Trevor and I made the trek back home to Hammond today and aside from a slow down in Mobile it was a smooth trip. We left Inverness around 7 am EST and got to Mama and Daddy's at 4 pm CST...I'll let you do the math. The GPS that Trevor received (read bought himself) for Father's Day came in really handy when the traffic got slow. I-10 was backed up as far as we could see, so Trevor had the GPS calculate a detour route and we skirted the traffic and rejoined the interstate 5 miles down the road. It was awesome!!

It was so good to see the kids again, and they were full of stories and energy. Nathan had gone to the park with Aunt Gail and met a little girl. She had fallen and Nathan went over to where she and her dad were standing and asked if she was alright. Her dad said she was, but that she was a little embarrassed. Nathan went on with his playing, but eventually went back to where she was and asked her name. Then he asked her, "How many years are you?" When she replied that she was 7, he smacked his hand to his forehead very dramatically and exclaimed, "I'm talking to a 7 year old girl and I'm only 6!" You can be sure that there will be drama if Nathan is around!

Gracie had drawn a picture of our family, rain, thunder and birds. She was very particular in describing each element of the artwork and it was funny trying to get her riled up by calling things by the wrong name. She had gotten Silly Putty stuck in her hair during our absence, and Aunt Gail had to use peanut butter to get it out. Needless to say, the offending putty was put directly in the trash.

We spent the remainder of our evening going out for dinner at Middendorf's in Manchac. They have the most wonderful, melt-in-your-mouth, thin-fried catfish and we try to get down there as often as we can when we go home. The kids always enjoy going down to the edge of the water along Lake Maurepas and making me nervous with how close they get. They have a pier now and I was almost apoplectic watching Nathan walk backwards and get so close to the edge!

Trevor and I are happy that the longest portion of our driving is over, and that we will only be on the road for 4 hours tomorrow. Here's to a good night's rest and an uneventful trip home.

Simple Pleasures

Today has been a good day. I went out with Uncle Chuck last night for a few drinks and to catch up, and when I got home around 9:30 pm Mama was still up studying her Sunday School lesson. We stayed up and talked until a little after 11 pm and then I gratefully climbed into bed. I was able to sleep in a little this morning since Mama and Aunt Gail fed the kids breakfast and it felt wonderful.

When I finally dragged myself out of bed, there was hot coffee waiting for me in the kitchen and I sat at the kitchen table and visited with Aunt Gail for a little while. She had decided to not go to church this morning since she was still recovering from gall bladder surgery, and this worked out well for me since she didn't have to rush off to get dressed. We chatted for a while, then I stopped inhaling the coffee long enough to get the kids dressed for church. They went with Mama and Daddy since they are more familiar with the people who go to church there and I was planning on attending church with Granny Effler.

Once they were gone, I sat back down for some more time with Aunt Gail and just enjoyed the time together. Catching up with Aunt Gail at the kitchen table is one of the things I most look forward to when I come home. There is usually chocolate and/or caffeine involved, and we just talk. Sometimes it's just the two of us, and sometimes other members of the family are there as well. She is funny, witty and intelligent...traits I like to think I see in myself from time to time. She is the person (besides my own mother, obviously) that I consider to be most like a mother to me and I love her dearly.

I present for your review the Foot Rubbing Incident. Aunt Gail hates feet. Let me say it again so that we are absolutely clear: she hates feet. She has passed this trait on to Courtney which led to many episodes of kicking and screaming following an "innocent" foot in the face when we were children. Anyway, as I mentioned in an earlier blog, she had come to stay with me in the hospital when I was sick years ago. The woman who hates feet (unless they are fresh from the womb and untainted by sweat) removed my socks and rubbed my feet to make me feel better. To most people that would not seem like much of a story, but for Aunt Gail to do that was to show the kind of love that only a mother could have.

I somehow got lucky enough in this life to have not just one mother to love and care for me, but two. This does not detract from the special bond and relationship that I have with Mama, but I do have a special place in my heart for Aunt Gail. I consider it a blessing that my children know and love her the way that I do.

So, after our visit I got dressed and met Granny Effler at Jerusalem Baptist. As usual, the music was terrible but worth sitting through for the sermon. Her pastor is wonderful and I always enjoy his sermons because I am convicted by the Holy Spirit every time I hear him speak. He truly has the gift of teaching and I look forward to the next time I can hear him preach.

According to Granny, Bro. Stacey always runs over and today was no exception. We hurriedly went out to our cars after the service and I called Mama to let her know we were on our way home for lunch. Mama made a phenomenal chicken and sausage gumbo and it was good to sit around the table with Uncle Chuck, Granny, Aunt Gail and my parents and share a meal. We finished up with a pumpkin cake with orange-cream cheese icing that was to die for. I'm going to have to try that frosting recipe soon.

Later in the afternoon, I went to visit Granny Traylor at the rehab center where she is staying while she recuperates from her hip surgery. She was in good spirits and we had such a good visit. We covered everything from the inappropriateness of flip-flops and tank tops in church to her complete disdain for scrambled eggs and oatmeal for breakfast. The time flew by too quickly and soon it was time for me to get back to Mama and Daddy's so they could leave the kids to go to church.

I fed the kids and got them settled outside, and then Aunt Gail woke up from a nap and I made grilled cheese sandwiches for us and we ate outside while Nathan and Grace drew on the cement with chalk. I felt such a sense of deep contentment sitting there watching the kids play and being there with family. I was so glad that I didn't have to leave until tomorrow.

So, tomorrow I will head back west to take up my life where I left off. I miss Trevor and so do the kids, so it will be good to see him again. Thank you God. Thank you for sunshiny days filled with simple pleasures. I am so blessed.

The Piano

I bought a piano for $50 today. It is an old, brown upright that was being sold at a garage sale. I had gone to the Jerusalem cemetery to put fresh flowers on Gramps' grave and I was at the Trinity cemetery to put flowers on Uncle Tellius' grave. The parsonage is right on the church property and Bro. Randy's daughter and son-in-law live in a house next to the graveyard and they were the ones having the garage sale.

As I drove up, I saw about 10 cars parked along the edge of the cemetery and at first I thought that there was a funeral service being conducted. Much to my horror, I realized that there was a garage sale in full swing as I was going to visit Uncle Tellius' grave for the first time since his death. It felt as though everyone was watching me as I walked past the tables and straight to the grave. I knelt to clear out the dried out flower arrangement that someone had left and replaced it with my own fresh flowers.

As I knelt there, the people milling around nearby left my mind and it was filled with memories of Uncle Tellius. Today marks the 4th month since his death and kneeling there before the mound of still fresh earth brought his death into sharp focus. Living in Texas affords me the luxury of blurring the memories of his illness and death, and going home was like opening a barely closed wound. And as always, I felt a twinge of guilt at my grief as I remembered how much more my cousins have suffered and grieved for the loss of their Daddy. As much as I loved him (and love him still), he was not my father and as strange as it might sound I feel weirdly guilty for my grief.

There are many that knew him better and were closer to him than I ever was. Many with closer ties and more stories and a lifetime of memories to tell. But, in spite of the twinge of guilt, I still grieve for a life that didn't seem quite finished. I know that God is on His throne and in control of everything, but the human part of me screams out "Why?! It's not fair!" like a petulant child.

So, as I prayed through my tears at the foot of his grave for understanding and peace, I began to feel better. I stayed for a few more minutes and then I made my way back to the car. As I was walking past the tables I saw a sign on the wall advertising a piano for $50. I just could not pass that up. We have been wanting a piano for a long time now and this seemed like the perfect opportunity. I paid for it and figured that we would devise a plan for getting it back to Texas. As it turns out, that is becoming a thorn in my side and would require an entire blog of it's own to do it justice!

I am so excited about this piano. Now the kids can take lessons, I can start playing again and we can sing around it when Mama and Daddy come to visit. I can't wait to make those kinds of memories with my kids and to see them learn how to appreciate and love music the way Trevor and I do.

Home

I woke up this morning with a sense of anticipation and joy because I am going home. Home to Louisiana, home to my family, home to the place that draws me back time and time again. I am tied to it by an invisible cord that pulls and tugs on my soul to come back and stay.

I moved to Texas with my parents when I was only 4, so it could be reasonably argued that Texas is my home, and geographically that is true. I grew up, went to college, met my husband, started a family and still live here. My house and life are here in Texas, but my heart and soul belong in Louisiana. The land of rich gumbo, sweet strawberries and spicy crawfish. The place that has been my refuge from all the storms in my life. I go home for so many reasons...holidays, funerals, reunions...but the main reason I make the journey over and over again is for renewal.

My roots go deep in Louisiana. I come from a close knit family and with few exceptions, they all still live right there. I've had the good fortune to know all of my grandparents, be close with my aunts and uncles and have cousins that are more like sisters to me. My parents moved back home a few years ago so I have the added bonus of seeing them each time I go back. When I go home, it's like time is suspended for me. Everything slows down and I am able to get perspective on the things that really matter in my life. I look forward to spending hours on Granny's porch with whoever happens to be there. I relish the anticipation of going out for a drink with Uncle Chuck and catching up with him. I love seeing my children play under the canopy of live oak branches at the old property that has been in my father's family for generations. I love that Trevor loves my family and all the traditions that we hold so dear and that he is a perfect fit.

So, I'll be headed east in a few hours with Nathan and Grace semi-comfortably ensconced in the backseat with a movie to entertain them. This evening I'll be seated at the kitchen table chatting and laughing with Mama and Aunt Gail feeling as though I never left. Because home is where the heart is, and my heart is in Louisiana.

A Life of Generosity

It's been a little over 7 months since my Gramps died. Thomas Battice Effler. Mr. B. Daddy. Tom. Honey. Uncle B. He had many names, but he was Gramps to me. I still miss him terribly and I suppose that's never going to go away. I dream of him now and then....dreams where I can talk to him again and ask him about where I should plant a particular tree or shrub. Sometimes he's the young and vibrant man I remember from my childhood. Forearms like Popeye from years of hanging sheet rock and painting houses. Strong arms for hugging and picking me up. Making a "prison" by crossing his legs while sitting in his recliner and keeping me in it as I squealed to be let out, but not really meaning it. Sometimes he is the older man of more recent years....sick more than he was well. In those dreams he wants me to lay next to him and just be. In those dreams I know that he is dying, but I have time to say goodbye.

No matter what dreams I have about Gramps, one thing doesn't change. That unchangeable thing is my memory. I have a lifetime of memories that involve him. As was evident as I heard his eulogy at the funeral, the defining characteristic of his life was his unfailing faith in Jesus Christ and because of that faith a generosity of spirit that was unmatched. I could write a thousand stories that reveal the depths of his giving heart, but I'll stick with just a few that have special meaning to me.

I recently bought gerbils for my children. As I was standing in the pet store debating what kind of shavings to put in the bottom of the cage, I suddenly teared up. I hadn't thought of this in almost 20 years, but when I was in high school I had two white mice. I had gone home to Louisiana for a visit and when I told Gramps that I had mice, he didn't have too much to say. But later that day, he said, "Youngin', get into the truck. We're going to Teddy's" When Gramps said to get going, you got going or got left behind, so I hopped in the truck and went along with him. When we got there, he pulled out a long piece of cedar that he had gotten out of his woodworking shop. Uncle Teddy had a planer, and Gramps planed that piece of wood down to a pile of cedar shavings fit for a mouse cage. It filled a huge bag and lasted me for months. It was such a small thing, but it meant enough that I remember it still.

He and Granny never missed any big event in my life. I come from a Masonic family, and I was very active in Rainbow Girls. I was a Grand Officer (state officer) and held a position of leadership in the local assembly. They were there for all of my important ceremonies. Granny made all of the food for the reception that followed and Gramps made my wooden gavel out of black walnut wood. It sits on my shelf and I think of him every time I pick it up.

When I was 19, I was diagnosed with Hodgkin's Disease. I underwent a exploratory laparotomy and splenectomy 4 days after my 20th birthday. The surgery was at a ridiculously early hour of the morning and it was still dark outside when they came to get me. As I looked beyond my parents and the nurses, I saw my Granny and Gramps walk through my hospital room door. They had driven in the night before and made it to the hospital in time to see me and pray with me before I went in. You just cannot know how that made me feel. Knowing that Granny and Gramps were there somehow made it better.

A few weeks before Gramps died, Mama had called me on a Friday night to tell me that he was in the hospital again. It wasn't really any different than all the other times that he had been admitted in recent months, but it was the first time that I had a vision of him in a nursing home. I saw him as old and frail, and it shocked me. You would think that it wouldn't considering the fact that he had been old and frail for some time, but I guess some part of my brain still saw him as that young, vibrant man of my childhood. I had a sudden feeling that I needed to see him. I felt like I was being pulled home and I had to go. I talked to Trevor about it, and made arrangements to leave the next morning.

When I arrived in Hammond, I went straight to the hospital but was told that he had been discharged so I went to Granny and Gramps' house. Maybe he wasn't so sick after all....maybe my gut feeling was nothing. I surprised Granny (I hadn't told anyone that I was coming) and after discovering that he was in fact still in the hospital, I went back over there. I finally found his room, and as I entered, I greeted him with, "Hey faker!" The smile that he gave me was enough to just melt my heart. "Youngin'!" he said in disbelief, "what are you doing here?" We sat and visited for several hours. Just everyday stuff. Sick or not, Gramps was still sharp as a tack. He was never afraid of expressing his opinion and he didn't start that Saturday as we spoke. We reminisced about memories of each other and he told me stories of boot camp and World War II in Germany. He told me about how he met Granny and how much he loved her then and loved her still after 59 years of marriage.

I left him later that day fully intending to spend most of the next morning with him before I had to head back home, but a call early Sunday morning from Trevor sent me flying home to him. We didn't know it at the time, but he had a kidney stone and didn't know the cause of his pain. There was no way for me to know when I leaned down and kissed Gramps goodbye that it would be the last time I would see him alive. I told him that I loved him and he said the same and then I was gone.

The call came in the middle of the night just a week or so later. Gramps went quickly due to a pulmonary embolism....we could not have asked for a better way for him to go. No pain, and he was lucid right up to the end. His was a life well lived for the glory of God and he left behind a legacy of love and generosity that knows no equal. I like to think when I perform a random act of kindness that I am somehow channeling Gramps a little bit. He would be horrified if he heard me say that, but I don't care.

So, I'll keep dreaming of him and telling my children stories of his exceptional love and generosity. We will tell and retell the stories of how Gramps threw us in the swimming pool to teach us how to swim, when we get together at Christmas, along with all the other familiar stories that we know by heart. I will keep seeing him in unexpected places and in my dreams, and I thank God for letting me be fortunate enough to be his granddaughter.