The Middle Drawer: 2010

Normal Day

Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart. Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so. One day I shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in the pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want, more than all the world, your return. ~Mary Jean Iron

Sugarpop

Warren calls Gianna "Sugarpop" and the other day when he said, "there's my sugarpop," she responded with, "I'm not your sugarpop, Grampa, I'm Gramma's muffin."

Losing A Son

Dealing with Tommy's death this last year has left me wondering what Gramma Campbell felt as she dealt with the death of her son, my father, who was just 23 years old when he died in 1959.

Missing Tommy

August 21st is just a few days away. It is a day that marks time for me now, for it was one year ago, on August 21, 2009, that my firstborn son, Thomas Jeffrey Clements, left this world at the age of 32 and I miss him terribly.

I ordered flowers today, in his memory, for this weekend's service at church. It's hard to believe that a year has passed since I last saw his face and heard his voice. On one hand it seems like yesterday that he was here, but on the other, it seems like forever since I last saw or touched him.

For a while after his death, some people would approach with awkward attempts at offering sympathy while others would say just the right thing. Now only a few people say anything at all. Maybe they don't know what to say, or maybe they think that talking about it is too painful for me. Please know that it helps me to talk about and to remember Tommy. He was much too important in my life to sidestep discussion, as if he never existed.

Some ask how I'm doing, and I've even had a few assure me that time heals all wounds. A few have wondered if I'm over it and through the grieving process. They wonder if life has returned to normal. I think it's fair to say that I will never be “over it” and life, as I knew it, is gone forever. Some well-meaning but misguided smile and say, “Rejoice, he is in heaven!” I know that he is in heaven, but I want him here with me. Because he is not, I am sad.

Am I getting through it? Yes. Some days are better than others. Random things will trigger memories that I did not even know I stored. The memory plays out, leaving me comforted and sad at the same time.

There is no doubt that my pain is deep, but my faith is deeper. God has kept His promises to me and to my family. He has been there for us though it has been, and continues to be, hard. Our sorrow is not as those who have no hope, but we do feel it and will continue to shed tears. That’s because our love for Tommy continues on.

Quoting Pastor Greg

After this year's Harvest Crusade at Angel Stadium, Pastor Greg Laurie was quoted as saying, "Life is messy and life is painful but God is great and God is good." He added, "And there are answers in the Bible." Truer words were never spoken.

Life & God

Life is hard --- God is faithful

We Just Love Each Other

Dave was loading his kids into the truck last Sunday after a weekend at our house. "Bye, Gramma, I love you," says four-year old Gianna, "have a great day at work tomorrow." "I love you too, Gianna," I answer as I'm hugging and kissing everyone. She says it again, "I love you Gramma, I'm going to miss you. Have a great day at work tomorrow." I wave, "I love you too, honey, I'll see you soon." She says it again and Gavin looks at her, "Okay, Gianna, that's enough." She stops waving, looks at him and says, "I can't help it. We just love each other so much."

Desperation

Desperation can be a good thing if it drives us towards God.

4th of July Party Parfaits

2 boxes of Jell-O Instant Vanilla Pudding

32 ounces (2 lbs) of Lowfat Vanilla Yogurt

11 ounces of fresh Blueberries

16 ounces of fresh thinly-sliced Strawberries

10 Sandies Pecan Shortbread Cookies

Whipped Cream

Crumble cookies onto a large sheet of baking/wax paper. Put another sheet of paper on top and, using a rolling pin, crush the cookies. Set aside. In a large mixing bowl, make 1 box of pudding following the directions on the box. Chill until set. Add yogurt and mix well using a whisk. Add the other box of dry pudding mix to the yogurt & pudding and whip with the whisk for 2 minutes. Chill. Fold in blueberries leaving out a handful for assembling.

Assemble in individual cups by placing 1-2 teaspoons of crushed cookies into each cup. Add desired amount of parfait mix, top with a few blueberries. Add a few spoonfuls of sliced strawberries. Finish with whipped cream and decorate with a small American flag. Makes 10-12 desserts.

Baked mmmm...Mostaccioli

1 lb. box of Barilla Mostaccioli
1 1/2 pounds lean ground beef
1 small onion, chopped
2 (24 ounce) jars of your favorite spaghetti sauce
1 1/2 cups of shredded part-skim mozzarella cheese
1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese

Cook mostaccioli according to package directions. Meanwhile, in a large saucepan cook ground beef and onion over medium heat until meat is crumbly and no longer pink; drain. Stir in the spaghetti sauce.

Drain the mostaccioli. Spread 1/2 cup of the meat sauce into an 11 inch x 7 inch baking dish coated with cooking spray. Layer with half of the mostaccioli, meat sauce and mozzarella cheese. Add a second layer of the remaining mostaccioli, meat sauce and mozzarella cheese. Sprinkle with Parmesan cheese (dish will be full).

Bake, uncovered, at 350 degrees for 30-40 minutes or until bubbly and heated through. Makes 6-8 servings.

Baby's Bassinet

My mom bought a white baby bassinet for me when I was expecting my first child. Made from a wicker like material and draped in white lace it was passed down, throughout the family, from one expectant mother to another, the name and birth date of each child that slept in it carefully recorded on the bottom. First Tommy, then David, Steven, Danielle, Denys, Amy, Evan, Christopher, Cody, Brandon, Richard and Tyler. Then Gavin, Gabriel, Gianna and Travis. I've always loved the sentiment of this tradition.

Prayer

Everything in prayer is encased in the Father, it begins and ends with Him. Jesus used the term "Abba" meaning beloved, dear father when he prayed to God the Father. I love the sound of that - Abba Father. Beloved Father. Genuine prayer is not monologue, but dialog. It is something very personal. Lord, teach me to pray...(Luke 11: 1)

Blogging

Blogging is, in itself, just another form of creative writing ~

Immigrant Ancestor Joseph Mecone

Joseph Mecone was my great-great grandfather. Through genealogy research, census records and family information, we know that he was born February 1860 in Province of Campobasso, Italy and he died on the 21st day of April, 1920 in Centre County, Pennsylvania. He married Elizabeth Magyar circa 1885 and they had nine children - John; Mary; Christina; my great-grandmother Pasqualina, or Lena, as she was known; Joseph Frank; Thomas; Elizabeth; Paul and Frank Carl Mecone. Lena was my father's grandmother, on his mother's side.

Naturalization records filed in Centre County, Pennsylvania on the 24th day of May, 1890 document "The Petition of Joseph Macon, a native of Italy and now an inhabitant of Centre county, in the State of Pennsylvania, respectfully represents that he sailed from the port of Naples on the 17th day of April one thousand eight hundred and eighty-three and arrived at the city of New York in the United States of America on or about the 8th day of May 1883 and that he was born in the province of Campobasso Italy and is now upwards of 30 years of age, and that he was born a subject of the King of Italy and owes allegiance to King Humbert and that he is now settled in the said county of Centre, State of Pennsylvania, and that it is BONA FIDE his intention to become a citizen of the United States, after having complied with the acts of Congress in such cases made and provided. It is signed Joseph Mecone. The Declaration dated the 17th day of September, 1892 granted Joseph Macon citizenship and is again signed Joseph Mecone.

Because names were changed as our ancestors came to America, tracking him back further has became somewhat of a challenge. From the dates above, I assume that he married Elizabeth after arriving in America. I did locate a young 23-year-old Giuseppe Micone who traveled in the Steerage compartment on the ship Archimede which, left the port of Palermo Italy and, arrived in the USA on the 3rd day of May, 1883. Could this man be my immigrant ancestor? Possibly.

The Message

Live simply
Love generously
Care deeply
Listen carefully

Mom's Apple Salad

It wasn't a Christmas dinner or a proper Thanksgiving unless mom made her Apple Salad.

2 cups Apples, cubed
1 cup halved seedless Purple Grapes
1/2 cup Celery, chopped
1/4 cup Walnuts, chopped
2/3 cup Mayonnaise

In large bowl, combine apples, grapes, celery, walnuts and mayonnaise. Mix lightly and refrigerate.

Crocheting a Prayer Shawl

A Prayer Shawl is a tangible reminder of God's love.

I use a J hook and three skeins of Lion Brand Homespun yarn. It creates a great variegated look and each shawl is unique.

Ch 63. In the 4th chain *dc, ch 1, dc into the same chain stitch*. This completes one V stitch. Skip two chain stitches and repeat * to * until the end of the row is reached. Ch 3 at the end of the row, turn and place a V stitch into the last V stitch of the previous row. Repeat across row. Repeat rows until desired length. Finish off ends with a border of dc, ch 1, dc, ch 1.

It will look something like this:

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV
VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

February 27

Thinking about our wedding day in 1998. Warren's sister, Kim, sang Celine Dion's "Because You Loved Me" during our ceremony.

You'll Feel Better

Mom always said, "Get up, get a shower, brush your teeth and comb your hair - you'll feel better."

A Eulogy For My Mom

The stories we tell to one another are how we come to know each other. For as long as I can remember, my mother shared stories about her life.

Sometimes the stories she told were used to amuse us, other times the stories were used to make us appreciate what we had instead of what we didn't have.

So when I sat down to write this eulogy, the stories she told, as well as my own stories about mom, came to the forefront.

I offer you now, as I remember them, the stories of my mother that have become such a part of who I am.

My mother was born in Muncie Indiana, the first of two daughters, to Mary Alice Daugherty and Jesse William Stansberry.

As my brothers, sisters and I grew up, mom told stories of playing follow-the-leader along the White River and catching lightning bugs with her sister, Jo Ann. She played jacks, jumped rope and cut out paper dolls. Even then she was a good artist and would draw horses on paper for Jo Ann to cut out and play with.

I shuddered every time she told me about going to the coal shed to gather coal. The shed had rats. She would throw a piece of coal at the rats so that they would scatter, giving her enough time to grab a few pieces of coal and run back to the house.

I stared in disbelief when she said that she and her sister only got one new pair of shoes each year, at Easter, and that they wore cardboard on the inside of the shoes when the soles wore thin.

She told us about the extended family that always lived nearby and the ever-present cousins; Jeanie, Rosemary, Linda, Geneva Lee and Bobby. While mom was a young girl, before the family moved to California, her cousin Linda lived with them. First at "the projects" and then on a farm at the edge of town with a cornfield and cherry trees that grew near the house.

As soon as they got to the farm - she, Jo Ann and Linda climbed right up into those trees and ate cherries until they literally could not eat one more bite! My grandmother cautioned them, "Get out of those trees - you girls are going to make yourselves sick", and sure enough, they did.

The girls walked to school with three brothers - Jim, Jack and Jerry - who lived on the neighboring farm. As long as the boys were with them, they could take a short-cut through the cornfield without being afraid of getting lost in it.

Mom was the oldest of the cousins, the caretaker - the one who always watched over the younger ones.

One day Jo Ann got in trouble at school and the teacher made her stay after class as punishment. When she was finally excused and able to go home, she came out to find mom, Linda, Jim, Jack and Jerry sitting on the steps outside the school waiting for her. Mom knew that Jo Ann would be afraid to walk home alone.

She had a tremendous love of family and emphasized the importance of staying together and taking care of each other to all of us as we grew up.

My mother attended Harrison Elementary, McKinley Junior High School and Muncie Central High while in Indiana but it was at Huntington Park High School, here in California, that she met her husband, Lowell "Ed" Davis in a bookkeeping class. It was 1955.

As fate would have it, they each went their own way, raising families and following their own paths, until they found each other again, married in 1980 and celebrated 29 years together as husband and wife. She and Ed bowled together for years and loved traveling to Las Vegas and Laughlin for league play.

They also shared a mutual love for dogs. As a child she had Blackie, Tippy and King. There was Junior and Puppy while we were growing up. Then came Duchess, Heidi, Greta and her sweet Isabelle who she laughingly referred to when she was a pup as "just like Marmaduke". Big paws and all legs!

My most vivid memory of mom is of a woman always in motion. She was the type of person who made a house a home. Mom's essence, I believe, was to be a doer and she loved getting the entire family together. She was one of the most amazing people I have ever met and will probably ever meet.

Every childhood memory I have has my mother in it.

Always there, always doing things that showed me she cared. She was the mom who baked goodies for school parties and volunteered to be a room mother.

She was the one who would load 10, or maybe it was 13, neighborhood kids into the Corvair and drive us to school on a rainy day. We would be packed into that car like sardines, stacked on each other's laps. Do you remember climbing out the back windows in front of the school because the doors were stuck and wouldn't open? I do.

She was at every parade I marched in, doing that last minute run in front of the banner team to make sure that everyone was lined up straight and ready to go.

She helped us with science projects, ran my sisters to dance class and shuttled my brothers to baseball practice. She was my Girl Scout leader and served on the PTA. She taught me to sew and how to crochet a rag rug. She was an entrepreneur - owning and operating three businesses with her husband, Ed. Diversified Interviews, Davis Consulting Services and Jet Ski & Co.

From my mom, I inherited a love of reading and writing.

As I became an adult, my mother became my best friend. We shared common traits, a passion for genealogy research and a desire to document our family history.

We started doing that in 1993 and began searching for her father.

He disappeared, without a trace, on his way to California in 1954 and she wanted more than anything to solve that mystery. We still have yet to.

We wanted to know more than just the beginning and ending dates of one's life. We wanted the stories - for it's the stories that mold us, that tell of how we came to be and who we are.

A couple of years ago mom accompanied me on trip to Indiana. It was a business trip for me, an adventure for her, and the memory of it makes me smile.

While we were there, she had her first non-fat sugar-free vanilla latte at Starbucks and loved it!

Mom quickly became a Latte Lover but could not remember how to order it, so for months she called me from whatever Starbucks counter she was at and asked, "what is it I want?" so that she could place her order.

From then on, I made it a point to stop at Starbucks on my way in to visit and pick up Vanilla Latte's for the two of us.

One of my favorite memories of mom took place in September 2007 when my sister, Cathi, hosted a Girls Weekend at her condo in Oceanside.

Mom, Cathi, Patty, Jackie and I laughed, ate, talked and walked along the beach.

One evening we whipped up a luscious concoction that fell somewhere between Sangria and a Wine Spritzer, grabbed some munchies and dropped ourselves onto the floor around the coffee table to play L-C-R.

When Cathi was done explaining the game and going over the rules, Mom threw her arms up and exclaimed, "And the one who wins is the winner!" We roared.

My mother was my Matron of Honor when I married Warren 12 years ago.

Mom spent her life caring for others, instilling that quality in her children. But most importantly, she taught us about life.

She taught us to never to give up, to keep moving forward, to find your passion and do the best you can. To "rise above it" and that "two wrongs don't make a right".

After raising six children, she received her Associate's Degree in Business Administration at Orange Coast College.

She was named an Honoree Mother at the Annual Awards Presentation and Luncheon honoring The California State Mother of 1976, sponsored by the American Mother's Committee of California.

Mom loved to paint and was a natural artist. During the 1960's she studied oil painting and dabbled in water color, but found her passion in China Painting.

Over the years she perfected her technique and had a special gift for creating beautiful china plates decorated with exquisite floral designs.

She shared her talent with all of us through gifts of beautifully painted nativity sets, dated Christmas ornaments and the delicately painted baby shoes that she made for each newborn.

She won several awards for her work and was a member of the International Porcelain Artists and Teachers Association.

Mom loved roses and enjoyed gardening.

She was a Lakers fan and loved wearing her Kobe Bryant jersey.

She has always loved Elvis but had recently discovered country music and Trace Adkins.

Her favorite song quickly became Honky Tonk Badonk A Donk and she was very excited when we purchased tickets to see Trace and Alan Jackson perform in November 2008 at the Citizens Business Bank Arena in Ontario.

She immediately went out and bought his CD so that she could memorize the songs and be able to sing along at the concert.

I've heard it said that only the best mom's are promoted to grandma's. Her legacy leaves 24 grandchildren and 11 great grandchildren. Well, "that's a life you can hang your hat on".

While Mom is not here in the flesh, she is definitely here in spirit. She will always be in our hearts. So much of the person I became can be traced directly to my mother.

In a way, I am the walking embodiment of Janet Wray Stansberry Davis, as we all are. We are her legacy, because while we live - she lives on. So I cannot grieve too much today - because she is not just all around me, she is a part of me.

Knowing this, I can accept her passing. I am relieved that her suffering is at an end and that she is no longer in pain. When I miss her, I close my eyes and feel her spirit close to me.

In an essay about her father, author Marion Winik wrote, "Before you lose a parent, you think, Oh God, what will I do if one of them dies? Then it happens, and you find out you can't do anything. You just go on. Maybe you can try to become what you miss most."

Danielle Knew

Thinking of mom today as I write the eulogy for tomorrow's service and remember her telling me about the time she and Danielle, who was just 6 or 7 years old, watched the movie Beaches. At the end of the movie, Hillary (played by Barbara Hershey) dies and leaves her daughter in the care of CC Bloom (played by Bette Midler). Mom said Danielle turned to her and said, "Auntie Sue would want me, huh, Gramma."

The Middle Drawer