Before we hit Shanghai, we extended our lay-over at the San Francisco Airport. We rented a car, thanks to the help of my Dad, who is working for Enterprise in his semi-retired state. Tim and I joke he will always be "semi-retired" for the rest of his life. The guy is a work horse, and has people skills coming out of the ears.
Anyway, we headed to Grants Pass, where my niece, nephew, sister, mom and brother all live. We stayed at my mom's house, kid friendly in every way. Not because she doesn't want the place clean, and certainly not because she doesn't have breakables, but because the woman lives true to her favorite phrase "People matter most". She is quick to say that anytime Tanner bangs on her piano keys, Hunter rides a bike in the living room, or when you hear the sound of glass hitting the floor (which happened twice while we were there).
Sometimes I almost feel like saying "Now, boys, don't get too used to the rules at Grandma Judith's house... because they are definitely not universal... not even at our house!!"
Okay, so my Orange-Juice-People-Matter-Most story...
There I was with my nephew, Cannon, and my two boys squeezing fresh oranges for orange juice (you all know my mom is an organic herbivore, right?). Now I can say I know that Tropicana truly does use that unreal amount of oranges they claim to as stated on the carton. We used 9 HUGE oranges, and got about the equivalent to 6 large Dixie cups. This stuff was liquid gold.
By the time my mom got to the table, Cannon had already downed his glass, and boldly requested he drink my moms. Before he could even ask again, she promptly slid it his way. I was secretly hoping he wouldn't ask for mine or he might get a mad-dog glare from me... in addition to a refluxed "no"--LOL!
As if that wasn't enough, Hunter then accidentally tips his over, dripping all over the table. Without losing eye contact with Tim, or even pausing in the middle of her sentence, she grabs a handful of tissues from the neighboring box of Kleenex, and sets it on top of the mess. It was like she didn't even notice. It didn't matter to her that it was spilling everywhere, or that the value of the liquid was that of a fine french perfume (in my view).
I just love that lady! Man, what I could accomplish if I just had an ounce of what she had... or maybe even a Dixie cup full.
Grateful Friday
4 days ago
1 comments:
I only remember meeting your mom once. We were at Holly's place in Lake Forest Park and she was doing something (not to be mentioned), I just remember your mom have a huge amount of understanding and not giving some drawn out lecture. I think about that day a lot and how I hopped that I'd be that kind of mom who would love my kids, even in tough times, without making things worse for them by my unwanted comments.
Do you still have all of her poetry? I remember using one in a talk at church and making people cry. That's always such a great feeling! If your talk makes people cry then you know you've been inspired to use the right material. She should publish all of them and give them to her kids (and me of course).
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