bridge at Japanese gardens

Here we are again in San Francisco.  It is the mid 1950's and we are on our summer road trip along the coastline of California.  On this day we were visiting the Japanese Gardens and having a lot of fun crossing this bridge.  All five of us are climbing on the very steep bridge.  Susan's red scarf is still keeping her ears warm.

my glamor shot

This is the closest to a glamor shot of me that there will ever be.  There is no filter on the lens...just an old hazy picture.  I was twenty five years old at the time.  Note the brass bed that I am sprawled out on.  Oh, my.  I have nothing else to say about this.

my plaid pants

Oh. My. Goodness.  I came across this picture recently.  I am twenty eight years old and I am sitting in the basement of the parsonage on Alabama Avenue.  I am wearing some outrageous early 1970's attire and my hair is set in huge curlers.  High waisted bell bottom plaid pants (my design!).  check  Short sleeve sweater worn over a big pointy collared shirt.  check  Who knows what's on my feet!  (probably stacked heel clogs).  check  Was I wearing white socks??  Please tell me NO!   And I thought I looked really, really good.  So in style for the times.  Okay.....I'm cute.  (was)  (still)

Jean at 27

Here I am, sitting with my oldest son on his first birthday in March of 1975.  We were living in a three room apartment on the first floor of an old row house in York, Pennsylvania at that time.  I made those curtains that are hanging in the window.  I also made the little romper overall that my son is wearing.  He is so cute!  My hair is worn long and straight with a sharp center part, as was the style of the time.  I've got my black turtleneck Danskin on and it is most likely paired with bell bottom hip hugger jeans.  Comfort clothes!  Ah, what days those were.

me at 29

Here I am at the age of twenty nine holding my youngest son.  My older son was three years old.  The year is 1977 and I had my hands full raising the kids.  I loved it.  I was a big fan of scarves and I always wore a cute scarf in my hair.  I needed to pull my hair back in a pony tail just to keep it out of the way and a pretty scarf just seemed to complete the look I was going for at the time--cool, hip chic mom.  Nice jeans, always.  Red t-shirts were my fave.  I think I was a fairly easy going mom.  The only rule I followed was "play hard and when you're done, line those toys up against the wall" (or another way of saying it is "Park your toys now!  You know where they go.")  Over forty years has passed since this picture was taken.  Same straight hair and, hey, another red shirt.  Some things don't change.  Wait...where's my scarf?

apologizing

One thing (of many things) I have learned about me over these many years is that it is very important for me to face the person I have hurt when I apologize.  It is hard.  It can be scary.  Sometimes it is embarrassing.  I certainly don't know what the outcome will be going into the apology and I don't know if the apology will even be accepted.  I just know that this is what I need to do.  I think about it this way.  I need to see the face of the person I have hurt.  I need to stand there and listen to their response.  I need to feel the pain I may have caused by my careless words or actions.  I need to see the pain (or anger) in their face.  I need to stand before them and receive their blessing (or not) and know that I have come before them with sincerity.  There may be easier ways to do this but I know for me that this way is the right way...for me.

why I always "say something" nice

Many years ago I passed up an opportunity to say something nice to an elderly woman as I walked to my car after church with two small kids in tow.  The newborn and toddler were hungry and I needed to go home.  I saw the woman standing up by the front door of the church and I wanted to go back to her and show her the new baby.  But I didn't.  I thought that I would have the time to do that on the following Sunday.  That never happened.  I never saw her again.  I was so upset when I heard she had passed away and I was very upset with myself for not taking the time to do what I knew in my heart I should have done.  I made a promise right then and there that I was not going to let another kind word go unsaid.  I have commented to clerks and tellers about the perfect color of shirt or blouse that they were wearing.  I once told a daddy at WD World (who was minding his toddler daughter while mama was enjoying a roller coaster ride) that he was the perfect daddy and his love for his daughter (and caring for his wife) just glowed from within.  There are a number of times that I have just stopped what I was doing and taken the time to "say something" to someone and it has made all the difference to me and to the person that I am speaking with.  I just HAVE to say something.  That is the promise I made to myself a long time ago.  It is a promise I keep.