A Heritage of Flowers and Love

   

     There are many ways we connect as human beings to each other.  Times shared together bond us in ways that nothing else does.  Memories of acts of kindness or gifts of kindness are etched in our hearts and become little parts of us which connect us together as well.  

    One way my mom and I were connected was by flowers and gardening. I remember so well her tending our flowerbeds on Lockhart with such diligence.  The "tending to" was not always her favorite part, but the end result and seeing the fruits of her labor was always what kept her going.  Mom had all kinds of plants.  What was neat about our flowers is that most all of them were given to us by someone else.  She rarely bought plants.  Tulips and chrysanthemums mainly were what she would buy for just those seasons.  Our yard was literally a flower tapestry.... little bits of someone else's family's heritage passed on to us.  Plants came especially from my aunt and my grandmother's and grandfather's yards, also in Dilworth .  

What is nice is that today I connect with others who do the same thing of gifting or sharing plants.  My aunt and my mother in law continue this tradition in different ways with different plants....Easter lilies, hydrangeas, coreopsis, etc.  Sometimes it is a gift from me for Easter or Mother's Day or a birthday. My mother in law loves gardening too and she is always wonderful about telling me how the plants I've given her are doing!  I love it!  My mom would divide plants which became crowded, dug up tulips for a season and replanted them, trimmed forsythia bushes, roses, and camellias.  Iris were always in our front flower bed for as long as I can remember.  Later they were divided and moved to other spots in the backyard alongside Dad's workshop, we lovingly referred to as "The Shop".  

   Late August of 1999, my mom called me over to the house and told me to bring a "bucket for bulbs".  She wanted me to take some of the bulbs we'd enjoyed for so many years to my house for transplanting.  It was "time to pass down some heritage". 
   
    "Don't you want some iris?  They will multiply in your yard and are hardy." she told me.  "I know you want some of your "little purple hyacinths too," she added.  

    It was this day she and I were on our hands and knees digging in the dirt together which I remember so vividly.  The day I brought daffodil, iris, and hyacinth bulbs to my house on Smith. We left some behind for the new owner.  She would not have minded if I had taken more than I did, but I felt as she did, that leaving some behind would be a nice gesture for the new owner of the house.

     Deciding where to plant them at my house was easy.  I chose the front yard flowerbeds as opposed to the backyard.  I had light purple, white, and yellow Bearded Iris.  Unfortunately,  when I planted them I had no idea what was what.  They bloomed by our driveway for years and multiplied and were absolutely gorgeous every April.  I had to divide them myself on 2 different occasions.  It was no easy task, but worth it.  I gave many away to friends and it is fun to drive up to one of my friend's houses in Fort Mill and see the Lockhart Iris blooming so beautifully in her yard.  I just love it!  

    Maybe it was ingrained in me by my mother to pass on family history or in my case, "take a little bit of heaven and history" with you when you move.  I had divided and transplanted yellow and purple iris all over our flowerbeds on Smith.  In the side yard, in the back---in 2 different places, where ever I could find room, I transplanted them.  The result was that I always had lots of flowers to share.  Growing large amounts of iris was a blessing because I cut bouquets for those years they were so plentiful and brought them to people in skilled nursing, or to my mom, or to my neighbor, or to anyone I thought might could use a little bright spot in their day.

One patch of iris from Smith

   I enjoy giving flowers to others so much, the thoughts of being a florist have crossed my mind.  The smiles on the receiving end of flowers....my goodness.... who wouldn't want a job that brought that kind of joy?

    From the time those Lockhart bulbs bloomed in our yard, I loved bringing my mom some of "her" flowers each spring.  I know she loved receiving them.  I loved the faces of the ladies in the retirement community, during Mom's last years with us, especially Mrs. Leonard and Ms. Willie.  When I brought them bouquets, Ms. Willie at age 102 would just sit in her wheel chair and stare at them and couldn't take her eyes off the blossoms at the dining table.  They would be gone in a week or less, but I knew for that week, she had a little piece of heaven and a little piece of Poston love with her.

I always decided after sharing flowers that I'd always want to grow enough in my yard for me to share.  I still feel that way today.  Since I have started over I have a long way to go!

When our house went on the market 2 years ago I was bound and determined to take flowers with me.  It was going to be tricky,  because I would not be able to plant them right away.  We had to move to a temporary apartment until our new house was built.  That muggy, hot week of August  before we moved, I found myself under the River Birch digging up daffodils and hyacinths.  While I was there, I had our 12 year old son digging up iris.  He was such a help.  Digging up the iris was much easier than digging up the other bulbs.  They grew in shallow soil.  Joseph was a champ and was so very helpful that day!  I was so proud of him.

   All of the iris which didn't dry out in paper bags I planted here at the new house.  Not having much flower bed space at all, and keeping hungry deer in mind, I put them in the front and back, just to get them in the ground in early spring of last year.  I didn't expect them to bloom, but at least they would grow some roots.  I knew I'd have to wait another entire year to see them bloom.

    It has been worth the wait!  They are beautiful this year! 

Subconsciously I planted them on the same exact side of our new house as they were at the old house.  The left front corner flowerbed... actually all I was thinking at the time was "Where do I have space??" and I put them there.  I have no purple iris, even though I dug many up.  They must not have made it and been some of the ones dried out during our transition time of moving.  

Every blooming plant I've seen this year is yellow.  

The Lockhart yellow!

A piece of my mother is in those blooms.  A piece of heaven and a piece of my history too, which I would have regretted leaving on Smith.  I am so happy that this plant has lovingly been spread so many places.  I do not know if they exist on Lockhart anymore.  My guess is probably not.  That's ok.  I've got them with me and they continue to bloom on Smith for our neighbors whom we miss so much.  

My mom would have loved that I can still enjoy them.  I just wish I could cut a bouquet for her!   

We will enlarge our front flowerbeds this year and I've already bought some white and orange Iris to go with the Yellow.  The white and orange ones will be our new history here.  

A mix of old and new..... I like that very much.

It's so much describes my mother's personality.... appreciating the old and well loved, but happy to enjoy a new garden addition!

Memories of the Season

Looking back at the Christmas season of 2014 from the beginning of the December to the New Year..... I'm so grateful for it all.

(I'm posting a bit late..... my apologies.  Many of these photos are all taken with my new camera Mike gave me last year, my Cannon Rebel.  Some are taken with an iPhone 5s.  I've been doing a lot of photo taking, trying and experimenting with the Canon camera trying to learn its features.  It has been one of the most thoughtful gifts my husband has ever given me.  He knows how much I enjoy photography.  I'm such a baby at this, but one day I hope I'm not.)

Happy New Year!
Judith


We started out December with a birthday..... Joseph is 14.
How did that ever happen?  I'm still wrapping my mind around the fact that my son is now taller than Mike and I.  Even though he was sick on his birthday, a slice of red velvet cake seemed to be just what the doctor ordered and he was all smiles!

Christmas lights at sunset

Enjoying the Christmas season at Myers Park

Going to see the Carolina Panthers play the Tampa Bay Buccaneers 

Daniel Stowe Botanical Gardens

Orchid Christmas tree ~ Daniel Stowe Botanical Gardens

Advent devotions

Christmas breakfast with Nonno

A Christmas kiss for Mom

Christmas lunch preparations

A bike ride Christmas day

Happy New Year!

The Aquatics Scholarship Fund

The Joe Poston Scholarship Fund

Dad and his grandson, our Joseph learning to swim- age 3

The dream of a honoring my dad comes true today.....

It kind of sat back in the closet of my mind for a long time, probably a couple of years since he was diagnosed with Alzheimer's.   I wanted to honor him in some way, but didn't know how or what exactly that would look like.  Last year TO THE DAY (June 27th) I finally asked my daddy how he felt about a scholarship program to help kids and families learn to swim who could not afford swim lessons.  

His response?  "Hey, I like that.  I'd like to be a part of that.  I'd like to write a check, but I don't have my check book."  

I looked at him and told him as I had many times in the past, "Dad I have your checkbook. I'm helping you keep track of your finances and bills."  

His eyes got really big and wide with a smile, "YOU do??" and there was that joking personality of the daddy I'd always known, tainted by Alzheimer's disease, but still very much there.  He was having a "good day" on June 27th, 2012.  He was happy, so happy, and smiling.  He had more clarity of mind that day than in days past.

That clarity of mind was such a gift that day.  It was enough of a blessing to me to know that if my daddy had not had Alzheimer's we could have continued our discussion about this subject and dreamed together.

I would have much preferred it this way of course!  

We were sitting in my mom's room this particular afternoon, when I asked him about the Aquatics scholarship program.  Mom was so sick and it was an incredibly sad week for us as a family.  The moment my daddy walked into Mom's room that day, the gloom and sadness disappeared in those moments with his liveliness, joy, and love.  I'll never forget that.  Alzheimer's was protecting him from realizing just how sick his bride truly was.  It was evident to all of us and everyone around her, but him.  He knew she was not feeling well, but did not realize the severity of the situation.  He sat and held her hand for a long time.  

So I'm sitting here writing with some mixed emotions.  I am remembering parts of one of the saddest weeks of my entire life last year and yet those incredibly happy moments I had with dad.  

I am thinking it is amazing how that conversation turned into what is happening today!  How this entire dream to honor dad has come alive, taken off, and come true for the kids of today.

This is where we are:

The Joe Poston Scholarship Program has been established for the next 5 years.

The funds from Dad's gift to the YMCA of Greater Charlotte will be split equally between two branches:  Dowd in Uptown and Stratford-Richardson

What is taking place today is the Dowd piece.

Westerly Hills Academy is a Charlotte Mecklenburg School.  During the summer months it partners with First Presbyterian Church for a summer enrichment program.  Kids are identified who need extra help with math or reading skills and the camp provides instruction and academic enrichment for those kids during the summer morning hours. Then, in the afternoon there are field trips and activities for the 1st-4th graders.  There are 60 kids in this camp.

There is an interesting detail I learned in the winter, when my brother and I were speaking at the Dowd YMCA's board meeting to tell about the gift Dad had made and to tell some of his "Y Story".  Westerly Hills Academy Camp director had called the Y asking if they could partner with them on anything for their afternoons with the kids.  They were looking for some kind of sports or athletic type activity.  

The YMCA responded something like this:  "We actually can help you with that request.  We just received a generous donation from someone a few days ago and it is for aquatics.  Would you be interested in aquatics?"  This phone call was made the same week my brother and I sat down with the financial development people at the YMCA of Greater CLT and I made the donation on Dad's behalf.  

Wow!  Wow!  
Do you see how this just took off?  God is so amazingly wonderful!  There was a need of the camp children and the means of provision were there waiting literally right when they needed it!  

Now today, those 60 children from Westerly Hills summer enrichment program will be receiving 4 free swim lessons the month of July!  In addition to that, they will receive a towel, goggles, swim cap and bag because many families might not have the financial means to purchase those extra items which are nice for the kids to have when learning to swim.  

I am so excited!!  This piece of the scholarship will take place every summer starting today, through 2018.  

I am going to go to Dowd this afternoon with the boys to meet the director of the camp.
I've asked the Y for photos, because I want to document this for our family.  So hopefully I'll be able to post some photos later of the swim lessons.

The aquatics director is very excited!  She said it might be nice to have the Dowd "shaken up" a bit in a good way with children coming.  Dowd is an adult facility.  It is not a family YMCA.  So not a lot of kids around the pool area most of the time, except for swim lessons.  

So we're going to shake the Dowd up a bit today!  I say, "Ok!"  Dad would probably say, "Let's do it!!"  He would be on the pool floor cheering them on, talking with the instructors, watching it ALL!  Then a thought came to me and I changed my mind on that thought.  Dad would be "in" the pool too, with the kids.  He'd probably prefer to "be" one of the instructors if he were still alive and in good health.

I do not know how this gift will affect lives, but it is in God's hands.  It is His gift really.  I am praying that kids who were afraid of the water will conquer that fear.  I am praying too that because the kids will learn some basic skills this time around that they will want more instruction, that they will learn enough to be safer in the water and it will prevent a drowning one day.  Perhaps a parent who has been terrified of the water and had a bad experience will be inspired by their own children and the staff at the YMCA and will be willing to try swimming again so they can get in the pool with their kids.  Maybe they will think it's not too late for them to learn to swim either.  So many hopes and dreams.... 

I don't really know where this is all headed for the lives of the kids, but it is a door that is open.  An opportunity given.  I'm trusting God for the rest.


Make a big splash Westerly Hills Academy! Make a big splash for my dad!  

Most importantly make a big splash for yourself!  
You can do it!  You are unique and special and can do tremendous things!

More to come soon!  

Mother's Day

This is my first Mother's Day without my mom.

It feels strange.

It feels so not normal.

It really is the oddest feeling in this heart of mine.

There is a void within.... yet it is filled with her love.

There is a lonely feeling deep inside.... yet I know I'm not alone.

There is a loss that is so deep it is hard to put into words.... and yet I'm smiling more these days than crying when I think of her.  I still DO cry, but I feel more of a warmth inside with all of our fond memories these days and I cherish those more than ever.

It's still difficult.  I just want to celebrate my mother and I can't the way I want to.

I want to celebrate with a hug, a card, a smile, us laughing together,  flowers,  sharing a meal together, just talking and spending time.  I physically want to be in my mom's presence and I can't.

When your mom is just a friend like no other friend on the planet, it is an eerie, odd, not normal thing to not have that loving presence you have always had in your life from the beginning.  

I can hear her voice so clearly most days in my head and I feel that love she always had for me so strongly.

I still want to give her a hug and that does not make it any easier.  I will always want that hug and want to return that hug too.

I look around me and I am reminded of her everywhere.  Her blanket is on the footboard of my bed.  It's been here since the day she passed away.  I have photos around our house.  There is family furniture which I've had in my life since as far back as I can remember.  I look outside and I see yellow Iris everywhere.  Those Iris came from her flower beds in the house I grew up in.  They have been so beautiful these past few days.  I used to bring her these in April after she and Dad downsized to the condo and she didn't have a yard anymore.  She would see the bouquet of yellow or purple in my hand and she would know exactly where they came from.... I loved to see her smile when she received flowers.

This past week I've been thinking about our last Mother's Day celebration... we had just come home from Chetola spending a week there at her and Dad's time share.  We all had our Chetola shirts on and she was all smiles that day.  Frail and weaker than usual, but still very much herself.   I didn't know at the time it would be her last Mother's Day with us.

I miss everything about her....and I always will.  A mother's love never leaves us.  I am finding this to be true even 10 months later without her.  I am finding it true with my dad too and it has been only 6 weeks since he died and joined Mom in heaven.

She was the best mom in the world to me.  No one loved me like she did and no one ever will again.  Double that feeling now especially that my daddy is no longer here either.  To miss both of your parents so much..... and to learn to live without them is something I may never totally get used to.

I'm learning though that God just transforms that love Mom always showed me into a love that sustains me at times in my grief.  His love for me given through an incredible forever mom....  it has been such a gift.  I can honestly say that I feel her love within me so strongly, like I wasn't sure I would.  Experiencing the death of someone so close totally changes your life.  My mom changed my life from day one when she saw me at the adoption agency and said, "Yes" to me as her daughter.  She changed my life for the better each and every year I was her daughter.  She brought me so much joy and made me feel so special.  

I am still her daughter.  
I will always be Ethel's daughter.  
Her love is so woven into who I am.  I carry it around in my heart all of the time and this is what makes me smile when I think of her.  

The memories are so sweet.  The time shared so cherished.  45 years God allowed her to be in my life.... 

I will still want my "Moma hugs" no matter what.... 
I will always miss that relationship we had.... 

Happy Mother's Day Mom..... your first in heaven and you didn't have to miss one without Dad!  

I love you a bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck!

To all of you daughters out there missing your moms.... I am saying a prayer for you.  Mother's day without your mom is not easy and I pray that the memories you have of your mother which make you smile will comfort you.  You are not alone.  There are many of us who remember and reminisce and wish we could still give our moms hugs too. 

The Adoption Poem

There is a poem about adoption which my mother shared with me decades ago as a child.  It is a poem which has stuck with me all of my life.  It is a well known poem and is short, sweet, and to the point.  It is a love poem and one which I cherish.

It goes like this....

"Not flesh of my flesh,
Nor bone of my bone,
But still miraculously my own.

Never forget for a single minute
That you did not grow under my heart,
But in it!"

An adoptive parent's love for their adopted child wrapped up in these few words.  As a child, when I would often read this poem I thought about my mother's heart.  I thought about the fact that I was not part of her actual body.  There was absolutely nothing genetically in me that was a part of her.  She never carried me in her womb, I was never "under her heart".  She did not go through midnight cravings with me, aches and pains, morning sickness, nor the joyful moments of first feeling me kick in her womb.  She never went through the pain of childbirth with me.  None of those things we shared.  I really did ponder these facts.  

My mom had actually had two precious babies grow under her heart years prior to my brother's and my adoption, only to miscarry them both in her 2nd trimester both times because of Type 1 diabetes.  She did have joyful experiences of being an expectant mother.  She also felt tremendous grief and pain I would imagine.  She simply could not carry these precious ones in her womb until birth.  It just wasn't possible.  The doctors also told her if she were to continue to try to have more children with Dad that she was putting her life at substantial risk.  She must have been very ill during part of each of her pregnancies.  Mom was never able to hold her babies in her arms at birth, but she was able to hold us as babies in her arms.

There were times when thinking about my mother and my father that I so wished that I was physically part of both of them..... If I could have had one wish, it would have been that I was their natural born daughter too!  But I wasn't.  So, I would often let those thoughts go and I knew that no matter what, we had this incredibly special bond which was so strong and full of love.  This bond taught me so much over the course of my life.

What I have found out 4 and a half decades later (and even before this) is that I am so much a part of both of them, in different ways, outside of physical genes, that it is not even funny.  One of my dearest friends told me "You are your mother's daughter."  I consider that to be one of the highest of compliments.  I see a lot of my mom's compassionate, caring heart in my brother too and both of their enthusiastic, positive attitudes as well.

Just 2 nights ago I was passionately discussing and processing something I was concerned about with my husband, Michael.  He was listening intently and then he stopped and just stared at me and said, "You looked at this moment just like your mother and you sounded just like her too."  

And this type of thing happens with some (not all) families who have adoption as their story.  My brother and I are two of the blessed ones.  Not all stories turn out well.  Not all adoption stories have a happy ending.  Ours did.  Our lives were  forever changed for the better and I am constantly thankful for the blessings of the parents God brought into my life when I was a 7 week old infant.  My brother is just as thankful in regards to his adoption.

This poem must have been really special to my mother.  Why?  Well, she had typed it up on ivory stationery, not just once but twice.  Maybe more than twice.  I don't know.  

It was such a special good-bye gift....

The final weeks before Mom and Dad's condo was closing in the fall of 2012, I was cleaning out the last things in my mom's dresser.  It is a beautiful dresser, long with 12 drawers and a huge mirror over it to match.  She had that dresser as part of hers and Dad's bedroom suite for over 50 years.  It has ALWAYS been the dresser my mother had since I can remember.  I used to love her showing me her treasures in those dresser drawers.

Inside one of the drawers I found an Ivey's department store bag.  I opened it and inside were various sentimental things my mother had kept....

 .....my graduation program from Charlotte Catholic in 1985

.....the church bulletin from Myers Park UMC for graduation Sunday 1985

.....a Valentine I had given her in 1972

.....a mother's day card I had given to her which was really like an apology card 

.....little cut out photos of she and Dad

.....photos of my brother and I

.....an article from the Charlotte Observer about 2 adoptive parents and their son thanking them for being his parents

.....an Anniversary card from Dad

....and a card from my brother to both Mom and Dad.

Then there was this little ivory envelope.

I opened it up.

And there was the adoption poem.  I had not seen this poem in years!

I was sitting on the floor in my Mom and Dad's bedroom at the condo, surrounded by all of these things Mom kept all these years and held this card up to my chest and wept.  

It was the last little message from my mother to me and to my brother as we were saying goodbye to hers and Dad's home which they both loved and could not stay in due to medical struggles.  It was my mom saying to me one more time, "I love you Judith.  You are and always will be my daughter, no matter what."  And these words came to my heart from heaven, because she had died in July and this was September 19.

What a little unexpected gift from God to both my brother and I, that I should find this poem in such a timely way.

Well, just last weekend I had a similar gift....

You hear the saying, "Nothing ever happens the same way twice."  There is truth to that.  

However, my brother was not surprised as much by this as I was.  I was shaking my head in tears of thankfulness and a LOT of wonder this time.  

I found another poem....
....JUST like the one Mom had in her dresser.
It was on the same ivory stationery, same typewriter font, same everything.

She had typed up two of these poems.  (There may have been more.)

I found this one in my Dad's bureau drawer the day we moved his dresser into our house 3 weeks after he died.

My dad had had this poem in the ivory envelope in his top drawer for YEARS.... All tucked away.  It was probably there in our childhood home in Dilworth.  It was there at the condo.  It was there at the Carriage Club in Assisted Living and in Memory Care the last 3 years.  It had been there the whole time.  It was under some other items.

In the envelope with it were photos of my brother and I and an announcement in the Charlotte Observer about his mother and his mother in law making their visit to Hawaii to see he and Mom in 1954.  Mom and Dad were married in Hawaii the prior year and Dad was in the US Navy stationed at Pearl Harbor.

How could this ever be?

Again Lord?  Truly? The same little good-bye gift found in his matching dresser-bureau.  

Tom said, "Well, they did think an awful lot alike."  He is so right about that.

It's possible too that this poem was given to my Grandmother Elizabeth, (Dad's mom), by my mother.  Then she put photos she had been given by my dad and mom in the envelope along with the poem.

Grandmother Elizabeth, Tom and I  (and Dad's dresser in the background), the day I came home to live with my forever family.

It sounds completely like something my mother would have done and Grandmother would have done.   They were both sentimental especially with photos and words.  I just don't know for a fact that this is what happened with the poem.  What makes me also think of this possibility is due to one photo of my grandfather and Tom fishing on a pier at Lake Wylie, and then of course the 1954 newspaper blurb about she and my Mom's mother taking their first trans-Pacific flight to Hawaii.  

Either way, if it was given to Elizabeth from my mother or not, this poem with pictures had probably been in my dad's dresser a very long time, possibly since his Mom's passing which would have been 1974.  I know my dad loved this poem too.

So this little reminder of love is doubly appreciated and felt.  How both poems wound up in both of their dressers floors me....yet it doesn't.  God loves to surprise us with details about our loved ones.  I'm so glad I decided to look through Daddy's drawer this particular day.  

I open the drawer and it still smells like it always has since I was a little girl.  The dresser represents part of him, just like my mother's did.  Right now her grandson is using her dresser as his very own and taking very good care of it.   One day I will be able to let go of Daddy's bureau, but not just yet and I've told my brother it is just as he left it at the Carriage Club.  Anytime he wants to come over and remember a part of Dad, the bureau is here.  

Until then, I feel blessed....so very blessed once again for these fingerprints of love.