In the Dark of the Morning

"Mama, I had a bad dream!"

Early morning.  Still dark out.  The king-sized bed with warm flannel sheets is a cozy, safe sanctuary.  Within moments, she is sound asleep, curled up by my side.  I breathe in her sweet, sleepy scent.

A little while later, Himself and I arise to begin our day.  And still she sleeps.  Through the showers and other daily routines, through our getting dressed, our morning conversations, and some housekeeping tasks, she sleeps on, oblivious to the goings-on around her.

How many more mornings, I wonder, are left before she no longer needs to crawl into bed with Mama and Daddy after a bad dream?

Oh, precious child.  What a blessing it is to be your mama.

A Time to Mourn

My Mama called this morning with the sad news that my paternal grandmother, whom we all called Mam-ma (it's an east Tennessee thing), passed away last night.  My immediate reaction was, "Oh no!" and tears, which alarmed the girls greatly.  But the truth is that blessings abound.

She'd lived in a nursing home for several years, beset with Alzheimer's and Parkinson's, and she slept most of the time.  She'd been a widow for 41 years, and all but one of her siblings predeceased her.  Imagine the reunion!  Finally, her passing seemed peaceful; there were no signs of distress. 

She had been absent from my life for years due to her illnesses, and it was a slow disappearance.  Incremental losses are harder to mourn.  Still, I am a bit surprised by how bereft I feel today.  I am sad at losing my sweet Mam-ma, a loss of several years now, but one I'm grieving today.  And I'm sad at the passage of time -- people, places, and times we enjoyed now gone.  She was my last living grandparent, which underscores my sense of time flying by, never to be recovered.

Now we're waiting for the details of the arrangements and beginning to make plans for an unexpected trip to Tennessee.  The formal traditions of saying good-bye will sweep us along: the visitation, where we'll see friends and relatives I haven't seen in years; the funeral service itself, which I hope includes my Mam-ma's favorite hymns; and the burial in an old cemetery I haven't visited since I was an adolescent.  Oh, and let's not forget the food.  In the American South, if a family member dies, prepare to be swamped with really good food.

I expect a phone call later on, telling us where we need to be and when.  But until then, I'm going to fetch a letter I keep in my jewelry box, a letter my mother gave me last year when she found it in some other papers.  It's addressed to my mother and dated March 27, 1968, two days after I was born.  In it, Mam-ma writes:

You just don't know how much I wish I could come see you and that little baby today.  Since I can't, I'm sending you this little note to let you know we are thinking about you.  Isn't it a good feeling to hold your little baby in your arms?  I just can't hardly wait to see her. . . .  Give that little girl a big kiss for me.

Even though she's been "gone" for almost a decade, she was always there, if that makes any sense.  But now that she's really gone, the loss seems fresh, as if the intervening years between her full, active life and her death had never happened.  I didn't lose my grandmother years ago; I lost her today.

Summer Camp for Mama

Himself and I took the girls to Girl Scout summer camp yesterday (Sunday) afternoon, where they'll reside and have a blast until Friday.  Here's all their gear:

Everything went smoothly at check-in; Miss Priss was a little sad to see us go and required more than one hug, but she'll be fine.  Tiny Girl merely waved a distracted good-bye, since she was in the middle of a game.  Same gene pool yet so different!

I must admit it feels weird at home without them here.  I am very aware of this being part of what I call the Slow Good-bye, i.e., my children growing up and away.  I never went to summer camp, so I'm excited for my girls to have this great opportunity to learn new things and grow in their abilities and confidence.  But I'm also a little sad.  It's bittersweet, this whole growing-up thing.

I can't say it's exactly quiet at home, though, since Jasper's here with me.  I let him into the study for the first time so he wouldn't be lonesome while I was on the computer, but that wasn't such a fab idea.  I've had to chase him down more than once and prise paper documents from his mouth!

You may wondering what I'm planning to do while they're gone.  So am I, but I have a few plans:

• Clean out and straighten up the study.  Frankly, it's a wreck and needs to be readied for our next school year.  Which brings me to my next undertaking for the week:
• Plan our next school year.  I never make an extensive plan, since then I feel burdened to follow it.  But I do make a loose plan based on Ambleside Online's schedule, supplemented by Tanglewood Education and The Well-Trained Mind.
• Go through all our books and take some to a nearby used bookstore.
• Get a massage at a nearby day spa.  Yes, it's an extravagance, but I'm going to treat myself.  The last time I did anything like this was more than two years ago, for my fortieth birthday.
• Go out with friends.  This evening, Himself and I are having dinner (when I go out, I say "dinner," but when I eat at home, I call that evening meal "supper"; funny, huh?) with his former roommate, from when Himself and I dated, and his wife.  We are really looking forward to seeing them, since they now live in South Africa, and it's been a long time.  I'm also planning to go out with some girlfriends of mine.
• Take care of the garden.  All the vegetables and flowers need fertilizing this week, and I need to do some light pruning and dead-heading on my roses.
• Go on a few walks with Jasper in the cool mornings.  The morning weather has been fantastic lately, sunny and breezy.  It was 69 degrees this morning at 8 AM!  The afternoons are another story: hotter, humid, and often stormy.
• Read, read, read!

That's all I have on my list so far, but it's probably enough.  Now that I've made a list, I see I have lots to do to fill the time.  The study clear-out and school planning are both big projects in terms of time and effort.  I think I may schedule a certain amount of time per day to work on these, and then read or blog (and read blogs) the rest of the time.  I'll call it Summer Camp for Mama!

What I Want You to Know: A Letter to a Girl on the Brink of Womanhood

A few weeks ago, I received an email from a friend of mine (I'll call her Rachel). I was only one of many recipients, and Rachel asked each of us to write a letter to her daughter, who would be turning sixteen at the end of October. Rachel wanted to give these letters of amassed "wisdom" to her daughter as a present. I thought it was a fabulous idea, and then proceeded to worry and wonder about what to write. A typical set of circumstances for me, alas.

But after I wrote and sent the letter, it occurred to me that what I'd written is what I want to say to my own daughters. So I thought I'd share. Since the words I wrote for Rachel's daughter were for her only, I've adapted the basic ideas into a series of posts. I hope and pray you can find something of value as well.

Off to Summer Camp!

The girls are at Girl Scout camp right now. It's a mini-session (two nights) since this is their first time going to camp, and we all felt nervous about committing to a full week. I'd never been to summer camp, so I couldn't wax glowingly about all the fabu fun they could expect. So when we arrived at the gate (after a 1.5 hour drive), all three of us had butterflies.

But then all our first experiences were good. Check-in was a breeze. Everyone was friendly and seemed genuinely glad to see the campers. We had requested that Tiny Girl and Miss Priss be in the same cabin, so after check-in we walked to their (air-conditioned??) cabin and met their cabin counselor (nicknamed Short Stack -- apparently they all have nicknames). I helped my girls put the sheets on their bunk beds. And that's when it happened.

Tiny Girl said, as she shoved her duffel bag into her cubby, "Okay, Mom, you can go now."

What? The brush-off? The wave-away I've heard other moms talk about?

Miss Priss had other ideas. "Not yet, Mama. Stay for a little longer." So I agreed.

Short Stack suggested the girls change into their swimsuits at the bath house and head up to the pool for their swimming evaluation. Another little girl whose parents had already hit the highway came along with us. I, along with some other parents, watched the evaluation, which was overseen by two lifeguard/counselors named Bluebell and Snow White. I am not making this up. The campers had to swim the length of the pool as best they could, then tread water in the deep end for one minute. They were given colored bracelets (like hospital bracelets) to wear for the duration of camp: almost every girl received an orange bracelet, which means they can swim everywhere except the roped-off deep end. Okay, I have to brag. My girls got the first green bracelets of the day. They can swim anywhere in the pool.

At the pool restroom, the girls changed back into their clothes and got read to walk back to their cabin. Tiny Girl said to me, "See you later, toots." (She cracks herself up.) Miss Priss felt more courageous, but was still a little unsure. So we had a quiet chat, hugs, and kisses, and she was ready to let me go. Tiny Girl deigned to give me a high five. I watched them and their new friend head up the path to their cabin for a moment and then walked back to my car, alone.