Ninety-six and Counting

 Ninety-Six and Counting

This past weekend, my mother and I had the opportunity to attend a very important birthday party. It was the ninety-sixth birthday for a special woman. Lou is my sister-in-law’s mother. 

Ninety-six is pretty cool, but something I found particularly wonderful was the guest list. Lou is ninety-six and with her stood a few of her siblings for a photo shoot.

Only a few of the family
who traveled from afar for the big day.

She was surrounded by several of her ten children, a bevy of grandchildren and great grandchildren. Moreover, we saw a picture she received in a birthday card showing a sonogram photo of a GREAT-GREAT grandchild on the way. Also in attendance were friends and extended family who all love her.

Lou is pretty cool. She collects elephant figurines and pictures. She enjoys people and offers an easy laugh…even when it’s on her.

My mom is a few years younger than Lou. I enjoyed watching as the two of them sat on the sofa and chatted. When you’re in your nineties, it’s sometimes hard to find people who remember the world in which you grew up. The world you know and understand. 

My Mom and Lou

Even if you’re talking about the food or the party, if you are of the same generation, it is couched in an understanding of the way things once were. When you look at the adults around you, you still speak of them as your children. 

But the best?  The best is the laughter. Fully appreciating those around you. Knowing who you are and embracing every moment with joy.

 

Joy. That is the real gift of birthdays.

I don’t know what God has in mind for me. But if I live to be ninety-six, I want a party with all the bells and whistles. And if I have my way….I won’t be the oldest person in the room. 

 

Easter on the Isle

 Easter on the Isle

Easter bunnies? Easter egg hunt? Not exactly. 

Mike and I celebrated our second wedding anniversary in Islamorada in the Florida Keys. We were there for our honeymoon and again last year for our first anniversary. We stayed in the same room with the incredible view. 

This is actually a reflection
 on the glass door going into our room.
Isn't it beautiful?

This year, our stay stretched over the Easter weekend and although we were miles away, we managed to “attend” the Stable Faith Cowboy Church service on Facebook. You may want to check it out. We really like our church.

Still… it was Easter…a day to celebrate the resurrection of Jesus from the tomb. Everlasting life made available for us. That is the reality of the day though I know many use the day to celebrate the Easter bunny or chocolate candies.

Of course, Mike and I are a bit beyond marshmallow bunnies. I contend, however, you are never too old for chocolate. 

As for hunting eggs? I’m not into that anymore. Instead, we hunted critters and all the beauty of the flowers and trees and water to be found in Islamorada. With our camera, of course. 

The flowers are gorgeous!

We watched manatee swim past us as we sat out by the water. We filmed a crocodile swim toward us where a man had been cleaning fish. I think the croc retrieved a piece before a bird could grab it. It is unlawful to feed the crocodiles. Let’s hope the fisherman did not intend to attract the critter. Two dolphins played near us at the restaurant where we had breakfast.

See the Manatee Swimming By?
Two of Them.

And if you’re tired of hunting colorful Easter eggs, in the Islands you can hunt beautiful birds or curious and colorful lizards. They are all over the Keys. Not to mention the gorgeous flowers.

A Curly Tailed Lizard

A Baby Iguana?

This was Mike’s twenty-fifth year staying in Islamorada. My third. But I’m willing to shoot for twenty-two more. Let’s see…that would make me…Uh, never mind. 

Good-bye You Graceful Creature
...See You Next Year!
Now...Where is that Chocolate?

 

 

  

Living Life & Loving Mike

 Living Life and Loving Mike

Mike and I are celebrating our second wedding anniversary. Yep, two years. In many ways we both feel we have been together much longer. It’s strange. 

Engagement Photos
Courtesy of Allison Curran

Though we went to the same high school and graduated at the same time, we didn’t really know each other all that well those four years.

Mike was a friend of Tom’s. They boated and waterskied nearly every weekend when the weather was good. Tom lived on a beautiful lake down the road from Mike. Tom had the lake. Mike had the boat. I wasn’t part of that crowd in high school. I dated Tom my senior year and married him the December after I graduated and he was in college.

Some of my readers know my story with Mike. I had been widowed nearly eight years when our high school hosted a reunion. Mike had been widowed for over thirty years.

I planned a post-reunion potluck picnic at the Lake House for the day after our official reunion and invited everyone. Yep, the same house where the crowd waterskied all those many years ago. 

Mike still lived on the same road and offered to drive me to the reunion. He offered to help me with the picnic. It was a whirlwind weekend. 

A weekend sealed with a kiss before I finished loading the car and heading back to Ohio on August 29, 2022. 

Songs are written about “young love.” I’m here to tell you, loving someone and knowing they love you back makes you feel young.  Okay…younger.

And since we were both feeling a bit younger, we dated with the times: lots of phone calls, text messages, Facebook posts and FB messages. He sent flowers. More than once. Several times, in fact. And…he drove the more than a thousand miles to visit me and meet my family. Several times.

By Christmas we were engaged. We hosted a sweet, family wedding that next April and took a trip to Islamorada in the Florida Keys for a honeymoon. Life is good. 

Wedding Day in the Park

Mike and I returned to Islamorada for our first anniversary… and now? Yep, we are once again going to our favorite resort for a few days of sun and water, rest and relaxation, and of course, celebration. 

I don’t live life on a whim. I live it on a prayer. I’m not oblivious to the fact that it is God who brought two good men into my life. Instead, I live knowing I am blessed beyond measure. 

Happy Anniversary, Michael Tyler! Thank you for loving me! (I already thank God every single day for bringing you into my life.)

 

 

 

Door to Door, Dock to Dock

 Door to Door, Dock to Dock

As many of my readers know, my mother recently moved from Ohio to Florida. It is, in a sense, “coming home.” She and my dad called Lutz, Florida “home” for many years. They had a place in Dunnellon, Florida as well because they loved the crystal clear and icy cold Rainbow River. 

Eventually, after work and educational opportunities pulled my own little family to Ohio, Mom and Dad followed. Ohio is basically all my children have known. When I married Mike in 2023, I moved back “home” to Florida.

Now my mom has returned as well to the Sunshine State. After viewing several homes and condos, she found the perfect place for her. 

The Dock Area at Mom's

Mom bought a condo nestled in a quiet, though active community near us on the Nature Coast. Not a high-rise apartment type space. This is more like a small house situated on a tree covered corner lot. The place is just the right size with plenty of room for entertaining and overnight guests. There is a pool (heated in the winter months) and a clubhouse complete with a game room and bookshelves full of books to borrow. 

Everyone we’ve met in her new neighborhood so far has been extremely nice and welcoming.

A few days after she moved in, Mom and I took a walk in the neighborhood to sort of get the lay of the land. Just a couple of blocks away we came to the property’s dock area on the canal. We had seen it from the water before. The dockmaster and another gentleman were there. I asked about access to the dock if we were to come by boat from our lake.

Armed with details and permission, Friday afternoon, Mike and I climbed in our boat, crossed our lake, and picked Mom up at her dock. We headed back to our house where Mike grilled hamburgers for dinner.

Our dock and Lift

I clocked it. It took us roughly eight minutes from her dock our dock.

Mom’s reaction? “Now that was cool.”

Having Mom living close to us is wonderful. Her place is six miles from us, door to door. Six miles and approximately ten minutes driving. Not bad. 

But eight minutes dock to dock? Mom’s right. That is cool.

 

Of Sunsets and Friends

The Unbeatable Glow of Sunsets and Friends

 Last Christmas, I commissioned an artist I know to paint a picture for my mother. Mary is a wonderful artist. She is also my mother’s oldest and dearest friend. The painting depicted the two of them standing in the cold, clear water of the Rainbow River. Praying. 

It is beautiful. 

Yes you can see everything in the cold water of Rainbow River

This past week my mother moved into her new home here in Florida. We’ll soon head back to Ohio to collect her things. Including the painting.

I love the way Mary uses her talent. As a self-taught artist, she has captured beautiful scenes on canvas. Paintings of children swinging from trees and playing in the river. The flora and fauna of Florida.

Mary is native to the area and able to capture the best of Florida’s nature coast. Though she is no longer running it, her artistry is spilled over the walls of the family business, the Front Porch Restaurant in Dunellon, Florida. The family keeps her art as well as the tradition of her famous pies alive in the restaurant.

Mary has a God-given talent.

When Mom returned to Florida to house hunt a few weeks ago, one of the first items on her list was to contact her dear friend, Mary. We met in Inverness at Stumpknockers, one of our favorite local restaurants. Mary wanted to see the house Mike and I call home, so after lunch we all headed that way. 

Our house is situated on a quiet cove of a large lake. We have a few fruit trees and palm trees in the front. The backyard is dotted with large oak trees and a variety of flowering shrubs. The Spanish moss sways gracefully from the large old trees with the slightest breeze. It is beautiful to watch, but the view we embrace each evening is the spectacular sunset across the water behind our house. 

I’ve posted several pictures of the sunset on my Facebook page. It seems each one is more beautiful than the last.

Mary looked at my page. She must have. I know. Because on that day she came for a visit, she handed a gift to me. A wedding present? A housewarming gift?

No. It was a gift of love. Mary studied the pictures I posted. And then?  She painted the sunset. Our sunset.

 

 

 

Land of the Giants

 Land of the Giants

If you follow my blog, you know my mother came to Florida a few weeks ago and started looking for a place of her own. She found a condo that fits her perfectly. Mike and I thought she might stay with us.

Her independence is important to her. I get it. 

The second oldest grand flew down with her. If you missed that post, you can check it out HERE. We enjoyed Spencer’s visit. Spencer is a great twenty-year-old man. 

He is a man who is “present” when he is with you. Not on his phone. Not distracted. Never does he indicate he’d rather be somewhere else.

This past week the oldest grand drove down for a visit. 

Joshua is one of the “good guys,” too. He is a caring and tender “old soul” in his mid-twenties.

 Joshua and Mike are both “car guys,” so a trip to Streetside Classics north of Tampa was on the docket. When they left the venue, Mike climbed in the passenger side of our Corvette and turned the driving over to Joshua. Mike is a natural at being a grandfather. Joshua beamed as he told me about his experience.

I don't exactly "fit in" with the "Giants."
That's okay...the youngest is still shorter than me!

And now? This week, daughter Danielle and her family flew down for a few days. Danielle is a wife to Tim and a mother of four. They live in Wisconsin…and yes, the day they left there was snow on the ground. 

Mike refers to Wisconsin as “the land of the giants.” Rightly so. The only one in the Morrow family shorter than me is the youngest boy, Nathaniel. That will likely change before the next school season starts. 

We’ve enjoyed their visit. The weather has been perfect. Perfect for riding in the boat. Perfect for playing outside. 

But mostly, it is perfect to breathe deep, sit on the back porch and talk…or read… or watch the sunset…especially with giants. 

Under Attack

 Under Attack

It was late. Time for my shower. I went into the bathroom, leaned into the shower stall and turned on the water so it would be nice and hot when I was ready. 

Thunk! A slab of wood from atop the shower door came down on my head as I reached for the faucet. The wood was about eighteen inches long. The end was as big around as a Denny’s pancake. I was shocked and let out a little yelp as the wood clattered to the floor. 

Thank you FreePik for the image.

Haltingly, I made my way to the doorway leading to the living room to report my injury to Mike. I’m not sure he heard me. The television was on. However, he could see the distress on my face. 

“What is it?” he asked as he came to meet me.

“I’m alright,” I assured him. “Didn’t you hear the clatter?”

“No.”

I told him what happened and you’re not going to believe this, but the man laughed. I’m serious. He laughed. 

Still in shock, I followed him back to the couch. I was hoping for a little TLC. A little babying. But no. Even as I related the entire incident to him, he laughed. Out loud. To my face. 

Fortunately, my injury was something I could overcome. At least the physical one. The emotional toll was huge. 

I returned to the scene of the incident. I picked up the wooden thing from the shower floor to show Mike. It wasn’t all that heavy. Wood flying at you doesn’t have to be heavy to hurt. 

“This is what thunked me in the head,” I told Mike.

Did I get sympathy? No. In fact, when I returned with the projectile, Mike laughed harder.

I ask you, is this the way to treat the woman you love?

Well, the truth is, by this time I was laughing, too.

I’m planning a little “addition” to the shower. A hook should work. In the meantime…don’t they make a lightweight, plastic back brush?

Brush or Weapon?
You decide.