Turquoise...

I love the color turquoise.  I love it paired with any number of colors – white, yellow, green, red.  I love it paired with copper.

 

My love affair with decorating and the color turquoise started years ago - when I was a high school student.  I had a part-time job at a neighborhood bakery after school for a while (until it appeared it would challenge keeping make my A+ average).  I remember taking part of my meager salary (we’re talking 50 years ago when the hourly minimum wage was downright sad) and surprising Mama with everything needed to redecorate our one bathroom in the little house on Victor Drive.

I was only 16 years old maybe and knew absolutely nothing about decorating.  Nevertheless, I purchased turquoise paint for the bathroom walls, white paint for the trim, and a turquoise and white striped shower curtain.  I added some new white towels to the mix and  headed home to surprise Mama.  She was surprised – though she said I shouldn’t have spent my money on the house.  Even so, I think she was happy and we set about painting.  Have you ever wished you could go back in time – knowing what you know now?  I’d like one more shot at that little bathroom with the skills and knowledge acquired over the past 50 years.  All the same, it was an improvement and Mama liked it.

 

Earlier this week, I created a “board” about the color turquoise on Pinterest.  It was fun sorting and browsing through all the ways turquoise is enjoyed.   If you don’t know about Pinterest, I wrote about the joys of  Pinterest here.   If you’d like to see my turquoise board, it’s here.   These photos are on my Pinterest board and are from another favorite place of mine:  Joss and Main! 

There’s a link to “follow me” on my Pinterest site and I’d love it if you did!

"I'll Go To My Grave Loving You"...

The year was 1975.  My sweet, gentle Dad had heard this song on the radio and asked me if I could find the record for him.  He loved my Mama dearly and he loved this song.  At the time, I was not a fan of country music - and definitely not a fan of the Statler Brothers - but I bought a tape player and the song for him (and a few others).

I watched as he listened to the sweet harmony and the words of the song...and his eyes teared up.  The next thing I know there's a tear trailing down my cheek.

He did go to his grave loving Mama and his four daughters and all his grandchildren and great-grandchildren...four years before Mama.

I think about this song from time to time...and about Daddy's love for and commitment to his family.  I'm thankful for that legacy.

The photo below was taken about 1952 at the Memorial Gardens Cemetery.  I wrote a post entitled "All Too Soon" and the years on Mamie Road about it here.

This was originally posted in my daily blog, Sweet Journey Home, on July 23, 2014.

The sixth day of August...

There are some days in life that are just bittersweet…today is one of those days.

On a sweet note, today is Cindy's birthday.  She is my sister Gerry’s firstborn.  Cindy is beautiful with a heart of gold…just like her late Mom. She has an ever ready smile and a wonderful sense of humor. We are always laughing when we’re all together. An amazing pianist and wonderful teacher, she must bless the hearts of the students at the college where she teaches. No doubt, she blesses the hearts of our entire family…just as she blesses mine. Happy Birthday, Cindy! I love you. Wish I could be there to celebrate with all of you!

Love this photo from about 1957. Cindy was almost 5 and I was 12. 
(just guessing at the year and ages) 

Apparently, I’d propped her up in the car window! 

I was a really good baby sitter!

Sadly, today also marks the ninth anniversary of my beautiful sister Dot’s death. She fought a courageous battle against AML (Acute Myloid Leukemia) but Heaven needed her. She had such strength and optimism. She believed in FAMILY more than anyone I have ever known. Dot remembered special days with a card, a note or a call. She organized family reunions and made sure that we all got together. She had a gift for staying in touch. Dot had the burden/privilege of being the oldest…maybe that comes with the territory. As I shared in the previous post, searching for our family roots was Dot’s inspiration and I will honor her by finishing it. She would like that.

How I would love to answer the phone and hear her quip one more time, “Hello! What’s going on besides the rent?” with that smile in her voice. I miss her every single day…but I will see her in Heaven.

I love this picture of my sister when she was about 21 years old.

A mystery in Scotland...

As published in Sweet Journey Home...

I wonder if the same thing that makes me wish I’d been an FBI agent is the same deep thing that makes me love a mystery? Finding clues, sorting them out and solving a mystery is more than just a challenge – it’s actually intriguing. This time, I’m talking about searching out clues in my family history. Years ago, my late sister Dot had the dream of finding our ancestors. I joined her in the exciting search. It didn’t take a whole lot of imagination to know that with the last name of McGregor, our ancestors had come from Scotland.

We began the journey back through the years and enlisted the help of our other two sisters. The four of us traveled to the archives of Mississippi and various other libraries. We wrote many letters requesting information from archives in several states. Amidst the laughter on each trip we’d take, we discovered answers – in birth records, death records, marriage records, old newspaper clippings and family Bibles. You would have thought we’d won the lottery when we “proved” a date or name. There are three large rubbermaid containers stacked next to my chest in my bedroom…filled with several years worth of hard work. I purposely did not put them in the storeroom for a good reason: they’re there to remind me that I must finish this family history. When the snow starts to fall in a few months, I will rejoin Ancestry.com and begin the journey back through time once again.

Several years ago, my husband and I were traveling through North Carolina where my immigrant ancestor, Rev. William McGregor, had lived almost 300 years ago now. There at the foot of Fall Mountain, he built a homestead – complete with a sturdy log house and outbuildings. He established a large apple orchard. He “preached in the meeting houses of America”…which had been his reason for coming to America in the first place. He sold his home and land to Dr. Kron, the first physician of North Carolina. The house has been rebuilt as an exact replica and is in Morrow Mountain State Park in Stanly County, North Carolina.

It was somehow humbling, yet awe-inspiring, to stand on the land of my ancestor, a Baptist preacher from Scotland (there weren’t a lot of Baptists in Scotland at that time). I stood on the porch of his home and wondered where the answers lie. So many of the actual records burned in fires over the years according to the archives there in Stanly County. There are hundreds of his descendants who are searching – as I am. Supposedly, Rev. William McGregor was born in Ossian’s Glen, Scotland. Other records indicate he came from the Isle of Skye.

The mystery lies in Scotland but there is much to prove here first. This is just part of the mystery that I will be working on this Winter, when the snow begins to fall…

Below:  Rev. William McGregor’s house in Morrow Mountain State Park.…

Below: The back of Rev. William McGregor’s log house

 

Below: The back door of Rev. William McGregor’s house…

 

My memories of the Fourth of July...

When my three sisters and I began our family history search ( inspired and instigated by my oldest sister Dot), we made several family history journeys...with so much laughter and fun as the four of us traveled together. Sometimes, my niece Sharon accompanied us and there was even more laughter. One of those trips was to Jackson, Mississippi, where we spent the day in the Mississippi archives. Another search took us to Pontotoc County, Mississippi, where Mama and Daddy were both born. There, we visited both the library and the dusty archives of the small town newspaper. Most of the articles were not on microfiche or anything more updated, so we searched through dozens of large leather-bound journals containing newspapers from many decades ago.

We would get so excited whenever we found an article about our family. One such article was written about Mama's Fourth of July birthday party held at their home. From the date, they would not have been married very long. It described the menu (including homemade ice cream - or "cream" as Daddy called it. Year after year, there was a twofold celebration...Mama's birthday and our nation's independence.

As the years rolled by and we daughters were born, the celebration continued. As we grew up, got married and had families, the celebration continued. Every year, the family gathered for a picnic and cookout with all the trimmings in her honor. In later years, it was held at my oldest sister Dot’s house because she had a swimming pool. Memphis is hot in the summertime and the kids loved the pool. Dot would bake a large chocolate sheet cake with a hint of cinnamon and a delicious chocolate icing. Sometimes, she’d decorate the top. It was so very good. My mouth waters just remembering. With the cake, there would be homemade vanilla ice cream, usually my sister Gerry’s specialty. Before dessert, of course, there would be delicious grilled hamburgers, baked beans, potato salad and other wonderful dishes. In later years, we’d sometimes order Memphis barbeque at its best – from Corky’s.

These will always be my memories of the Fourth of July...my dear parents, my sisters, my precious family. I have no doubt they are celebrating in Heaven today. Happy Birthday, Mama...

Below: the McGregor girls at one of Mama's Fourth of July birthday parties...

Below: Dianne and Gerry at Mama’s 4th of July birthday party at Dot’s house. About 1990.

Below are just a few of the members of my large family. I need to dig through all my photos and scan the rest! I faithfully took my Pentax K1000 to every single function we had. Everybody teasingly complained then. Now, they are glad for a bit of history captured on film.

Below: My sister Gerry and my niece Sharon about 1982. Mama's Fourth of July birthday party at Sharon's house.

Below: my oldest, my great-niece Dawn and my niece Gina

Below: my sister Dot and her husband Tom...late 80's.

Below: my sister Eunice and her husband Eddie.

Bill and me at a Fourth of July birthday party for Mama...late early 90's.

Below: my sister Gerry at another Fourth of July at Dot's house...

Below: three of my nieces at Dot's house...late 80's.

Below: Mama's Fourth of July birthday party at my niece Sharon's house - about 1982.

My youngest is in the "firetruck" and my great-nephew is on his bike.

Below: my oldest two with their "Mamaw"...about 1990...at Dot's house.

Below: my sister Gerry and her husband, my niece and her son (who is now in his third year of medical school!)

My niece...Gerry's older daughter. I wish you could hear her play the piano...

As published in Sweet Journey Home today...

Fifty years ago and a convertible...

It was a beautiful day in Memphis…May 1963. We had just graduated from high school, and from the smiles on our faces, we were happy about that. We all piled into this Morris Minor convertible and someone snapped the photo...magically capturing a moment in time.

There were applications for college or other plans for futures already set in place. There were over 200 of us in that graduating class. I made it to the 10th and 20th KHS reunions, but most of my classmates I would never see again. I wasn’t aware of that sad fact on this happy day above.

Fifty years ago there were no computers as we know today, no internet, no email and most of us didn’t have automobiles. We used the telephone to call one another as soon as we walked home from school to talk about our day. Nevermind, we had just seen one another an hour or so before. We were all great students with good grades. We were in the Honor Society, Student Council, Talon yearbook staff and different other extracurricular activities. We did a lot of things as groups – like roller skating on Friday nights. We all loved roller skating! I can still remember the thrill of skating fast in the roller rink to the sounds of the 50′s and 60′s rock and roll! I loved skating backwards. I would love to try roller skating again with my grandchildren…but somehow, fifty years later, I’m afraid I’d break a hip!

Most of our mothers sewed our clothes and we all had great wardrobes. To school we wore saddle oxfords and penny loafers (usually with white socks) or flats. On Sundays, we wore “high heels” with hosiery. By the time we were in college, the heels were really high and were called “spikes”! Not as high as the platform “stilletos” today but definitely high heels. Oh funny things, memories…

I saw this photo for the first time yesterday on Facebook (shared by a friend in my KHS class and used with her permission). The memories came flooding in. You may think you have forgotten something but you haven’t. Those memories are still there…just layered over with years and years of other memories in time.

In case you can’t tell which one I am in the photo above – I’m the one standing up.  In the photo below I am second from right.

Originally published in my other blog, Sweet Journey Home.

Remembering Daddy...

Today is Daddy's birthday.  I am wondering if birthdays are celebrated in Heaven. If so - and I'm inclined to think they are - then Mama, Daddy, my sisters Dot and Gerry, Bill - my husband of 39 years and his parents Frank and Bobbie, my maternal and paternal grandparents and all the host of family and friends who've gone before are celebrating this sweet and gentle man's life.

Time has eased the deep pain of losing each of my parents, but I miss them still.   I miss my sisters.  I miss hearing their voices and their sweet counsel whenever I shared a problem or decision I was facing.  I especially miss the times we four sisters had together and all the laughter.  I'm thankful that my sister Eunice remains on this earth with me and I've told her that I have to go first!  Funny, I know, but I was serious!

Christmas of 2011, I had (most of) this blog professionally published as a gift for my children, grandchildren, my sister Eunice and all my nieces and nephews.  Needless to say, it was an expensive Christmas but well worth it.  I'm better at expressing myself on paper than in person and I wanted my children to know as many of the stories that I could remember.

I'm thankful for a legacy that may not have included an abundance of possessions...but a great deal of love.




Photo above:  My youngest with my Dad - his "Papaw" - when he was about three years old.

Happy Birthday, Mama...

 

Mama was born on the 4th of July. Every year, the family gathered for a picnic and cookout with all the trimmings in her honor. In later years, it was held at my oldest sister Dot's house because she had a swimming pool. Memphis is hot in the summertime and the kids loved the pool. Dot would bake a large chocolate sheet cake with a hint of cinnamon and a delicious chocolate icing. Sometimes, she'd decorate the top. It was so very good. My mouth waters just remembering. With the cake, there would be homemade vanilla ice cream, usually my sister Gerry's specialty. Before dessert, of course, there would be delicious grilled hamburgers, baked beans, potato salad and other wonderful dishes. In later years, we'd sometimes order Memphis barbeque at its best - from Corky's.

Yes, I know that July 4th represents Independence Day...but not to me. To me, it is Mama's birthday. The day is filled with memories that make me wish I could turn the clock back and we'd all be together celebrating. Little did I know then, how quickly time would pass...

Dianne and Gerry at Mama's 4th of July birthday party at Dot's house. About 1990.

Legacy...

As published in My Southern Heart...

Today is my Daddy’s birthday and I’m missing him. He was born on February 17, 1905…the youngest of seven children. His father and grandfather before him were farmers in the rich farmland of the Mississippi Delta. With a legacy bestowed by their Scottish immigrant ancestors, they had strong work ethics, Christian values and believed in the strength of family.

I never heard my Daddy raise his voice in anger or utter a curse word in my entire life. He was a strong but gentle man. As the father of four daughters, he was mellow and laid-back – I supposed he had to be. With a quick and ready smile, he had a good sense of humor. As children, my niece Sharon and I would get to laughing at the supper table and could easily get him to laugh. On more than a few occasions, we were sent from the table until we regained our composure.

He and Mama spent a lifetime together. After a severe stroke claimed her speech and altered her personality, he was kind and patient with her. In the last few months of his life, one of his favorite country songs that he would listen to often was “I’ll Go to My Grave Loving You” by the Statler Brothers. He loved her and us, his four daughters, with all his heart. He also loved his grandchildren. I just wish that he could have lived long enough to meet my grandchildren. My oldest grandson has my Daddy’s olive complexion, dark brown eyes and very dark brown hair. My Dad was the only grandparent or great-grandparent with those features, and I love the fact that my grandson inherited them.

Daddy was an “old-time” Democrat, which my son says today would, most likely, be the Libertarian party. He believed in searching for the candidate who would be the strongest leader…the one with the most integrity and character. He was also not fond of “big government”. I’ve wondered what he would have to say about the November election and which candidate he would choose. I think I have an idea.

I’m truly thankful for the legacy that my parents left my sisters and me…

One amazing life...

In memory of my sister, Sarah Geraldine “Gerry” McGregor Harden.  

August 1, 1930 – October 13, 2011

I was in Chicago when the sad news came.  My sister had lost her courageous battle with ALS (Lou Gehrig’s Disease).  She was, at that moment, in Heaven…surrounded by a host of loved ones who’d gone before.  The Bible says “absent from the body, present with the Lord”.  Praise God!

I changed my reservations and flew South.  My plans had been to travel South on Sunday and spend the week with my sister…but Heaven needed her sooner.    On Sunday, we celebrated the amazing life of my beautiful sister at her funeral service in the church she has attended for 50+ years. There in the midst of the beautiful stained glass windows and an exquisite blanket of Autumn flowers, a host of family and friends met to remember and grieve together. I was reminded of the song “Thank You for giving to the Lord” for that is what she did.  Because she loved her Saviour, she gave so selflessly…to each and every one of us, her family…and the very long line of friends at the church. We love you and miss you, Gerry, but we’ll see you again in Heaven. How I thank God that I am so blessed to call you SISTER.

The Fourth of July...

Mama was born on July 4, 1904, in the "hills" of Mississippi to parents of Irish ancestry...parents who cherished their six children, three sons and three daughters. As a young woman, Mama had strawberry blonde hair, blue eyes and was very petite. Even at her tallest, before the osteoporosis in later years, she was barely five feet. Although she never had the opportunity to pursue training, she could play the piano and organ "by ear" and sang beautifully. An accomplished seamstress, she possessed an amazing talent with a needle and thread. Through the years, she made much of our clothing, quilts and curtains. She was artistic and could sketch whatever she wanted to create. Down through the years, I would see these same talents emerge in her daughters, grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

In the course of working on my family's ancestry, I found a newspaper clipping from the newspaper in the small Mississippi town where she, my dad and my sisters lived before I was born. There was a description of the large fourth of July birthday party the family gave for Mama and all the relatives who attended. It talks about everyone enjoying the great food, especially the homemade ice cream. I could just imagine all those tables set up outside beneath those tall Mississippi pines on a hot summer's day.

All through the years as I was growing up, and even when my children were young, my sisters and our families would get together for Thanksgiving, Christmas and the fourth of July for Mama's birthday.  In later years, when everyone had their own traditions for Thanksgiving and Christmas, it was the Fourth of July that became our family reunion time...and a celebration of Mama's birthday. It was a fun time with the entire family together, celebrating with an abundance of good food and much laughter. 

After Mama and Daddy both passed away, my sisters and I tried to continue the fourth of July tradition. Eventually, the family grew even larger with an ever widening circle as each of our children married, had children and started traditions of their own.   In time, the fourth of July celebration was just a memory...but a deeply embedded one
.

My sisters and I...about 1960.

Father's Day...

Today is Father's Day and my mind is full of memories. I was 45 years old when I lost my Dad at the age of 86. I look back now and realize that forty-five was young to lose my father, but my children would be younger still when they lost their Dad.

Life is precious...and altogether fragile. Five years ago, my children and I came face to face with that fact when their father had a sudden massive coronary; and, at the all too young age of 62, he was gone. He had been the love of my life for forty years...four decades. We'd had a sad ending to our story for after 39 years of marriage, it had ended in divorce. My heart had been broken, but I had loved him still even then. Seven and a half months later, he was gone. I was left with memories and a string of what-ifs. It was an extremely hard time for my children and me. We'd all had so much to deal with in the loss of the family as we'd known it and then a loss so great it would take years to heal. Time helps a little. Over time, pain has a way of softening at the edges.

He was a wonderful Dad and my children miss him so much. I miss him.  I'm sad that he never really knew our grandchildren as they got older. That hurts a lot. I try to talk about him when I'm with them. I tell them little ways my son or daughter is like their father. I show them pictures and I tell them about him. I don't want them to forget him...although they were so young they barely remember him. I'd like to think that somehow he will know it when our newest grandbaby...a precious little girl...is born this September.  I love my children so very much and I'm glad he was their father. 

He died in the month of April, and that first Father's Day after his death, there was so much pain and hurt for all of us.  I wanted something that would, in a way, be "from him" for our children.  For our daughter, I chose the little Willow Tree "Father and Daughter" carving and for our two sons the "Father and Son" carving.  I hope each time they look at it, they remember all the good times and the great memories...for there were a lot of those.

I'm in the process of scanning forty years worth of photos...a lifetime.  I want each of my children to have a record of our family.  It will take me a while but this is important; and I will get it done.

Just a few of the memories of a lifetime...

(The order of everything is still a time-intensive work-in-progress but I wanted to show the slideshow with this post.)

Down memory lane...

Growing up on Victor Drive, Halloween was a fun time. We dressed like hobos or some other easy costume and went "trick or treating". Walking around those tree-lined blocks, we'd gather homemade popcorn balls wrapped in cellophane, hand-dipped cinnamon redhot apples or caramel apples...and lots of candy bars. We never ventured too far from home. It was safe because these were our friends and neighbors...in a different time and place.

As our children were growing up, we'd often get together with my husband's sister and her family for Halloween. We'd have a Mexican fiesta and then go "trick or treating". Fun memories...


Eating candy in a little house on Rhea Avenue many years ago...
I'm sure I brushed their teeth!  ;-)



I love those chubby little cheeks!




My youngest (left), age 5, and two of his cousins on Halloween in Memphis years ago...



Justin and his three cousins "trick or treating" in Memphis.

 


Twenty-five years ago!  My baby boy's kindergarten party at Halloween...





My first grandchild dressed in a "skunk" costume my daughter made!  The costume made the rounds through the years.

 



Awww, Mom!  That's enough pictures!  Let's go get some candy!

Now, baby sister was the skunk!

 



All these years later and my baby girl still likes dressing up for Halloween! 



I was "Grumpy" here but wasn't too keen on keeping the beard on! Check out my grandson's "peregrine falcon" costume that my daughter created (totally her creation)! My grandson was studying birds at the time and that was what he wanted!



I have several really cute photos of when my oldest two were young at Halloween but can't seem to find those right now.  I'll add them when I find them.  I'm in the midst of organizing photo albums after many years...sound familiar to anyone else out there?!