When my dad died last year, I got short text from my friend Kim. “Your dad’s in heaven,” it read. “Good for him!”
This might sound like a strange thing to say to a grieving daughter, but coming from Kim, it was perfect. Not only is she is a dear friend who knows me well, she also knows a great deal about missing a precious loved one who has gone before her to heaven.
On the first day of August, we packed the car for an overnight stay and headed north to Iowa for my niece’s belated high-school graduation party.
The road trip—our first since the Covid quarantines started—was a strange mixture of excitement to be going somewhere and apprehension about wearing masks and keeping our soon-to-be college freshmen healthy. Also—in my heart, anyway—there was the added emotional weight of remembering the last time we had taken this very same trip.
If you’re somewhat addicted to HGTV like me, you’ve seen more than your fair share of kitchen remodels.
At the beginning, the show host, contractor or homeowners stroll through the room, eyeing all the so-called problem areas with noses slightly turned up, and deem the project a “total gut job.”
We’ve talked about remodeling our kitchen for years. Honestly, I’m not sure why we decided to tackle it last year, other than the fact that when we got the outside of our house painted, we asked the Sherwin-Williams consultant who helped us with our exterior color scheme to give us her opinion about colors for the kitchen.
We’d gone round and round about that for years. I thought we could choose colors perfectly well ourselves; Randy wasn’t so sure. All I knew was that the yellow hue we painted it originally, while successfully replacing the most awful green in the world, did not feel good anymore. (I’m not sure it ever really felt good, to tell you the truth. But it was better than the green.)
How can it be nearing the end of July already? For a summer that contains so few activities, at least compared to a “normal” summer, time is certainly flying by.
Here on the blog, it’s been a good season for lighter fare about gardening, home décor and (coming up soon) home renovation projects.
My first Four Somethings post from last month was another fun diversion, so here we are again, linking up with Heather Gerwing to share something loved, something read, something treasured and something ahead.
• Something loved
I could probably include a song under this heading every time I write a “Four Somethings” post. That might get a little predictable, but this month the choice was easy. “There Was Jesus,” the powerful duet by Zach Williams and Dolly Parton, draws me in every time I hear it. (I’ve even cried in the car while listening to it).
I love the lyrics, I love how the two of them sound together, I love Dolly’s passion (especially at near the end). It’s pretty much the perfect song for this uncertain season, I think.
• Something read
Since our local library reopened, I’ve been loading up with more books than I can possibly read before they’re due (especially if they are more tedious than I expected). That said, one title that I did finish this month was You’re Not Listening: What You’re Missing and Why it Matters by Kate Murphy. One of my goals right now is to learn to listen better, and I found this book to be a helpful guide in that quest.
These days, it can be difficult to know when to speak and when to be silent. Among many other compelling topics, Murphy has some timely, long-view thoughts for those of us who struggle with that conundrum.
“People tend to regret not listening more than listening and tend to regret the things they said more than the things they didn’t say,” she writes. “It seems giving people a piece of your mind isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. While you may feel a sense of urgency to tell people how you feel, it’s not always helpful.
“You are putting your ego ahead of the other person’s vulnerability. This doesn’t mean you have to be dishonest or self-effacing, but you do need to listen enough to know when the other person is ready to hear what you have to say. Not everything needs to be said as you are feeling it. In fact, sometimes it’s better to wait until you aren’t feeling it quite so strongly.”
• Something treasured
Six or seven years ago, when my mom was still attending Bible studies in the town where I grew up, she gave me a couple of little four o-clock plants that a friend from another church had given her. They’re annuals, which I normally don’t plant, but they are also faithful reseeders that come back year after year, though not always in the same place they appeared before.
Every spring, I hold my breath until I see the familiar little shoots poking up from the ground. So far, I haven’t been disappointed. The four o’clocks start blooming in mid July, sending out pops of a pink so brilliant it catches my eye from inside the house.
They keep going well into August, and I think of my mom every time I see them.
• Something ahead
The start of school in our district has been pushed back to after Labor Day due to Covid-19. My high school sophomore is OK with that, and so am I. What’s immediately ahead, however, is taking older sister to college in another state.
I honestly don’t remember my parents dropping me off at the very same university 31 years ago. I was the sixth of seven children in my family to head off to college, so I’m guessing it was kind of old hat to my mom and dad by then. It’s not old hat to me, though. And while I’m sure we’ll all be fine, I wish my parents were here to offer their perspective on this impending transition.
• • •
Do you have a current favorite song, a good book to recommend or a bit of counsel about sending your first kid to college for the first time? If so, please share in the comments. While you’re at it, feel free to add your own Four Somethings to the conversation.
♥ Lois
I was the sixth of seven children to head off to college, so I’m guessing it was old hat to my mom and dad by then. It’s not old hat to me, though. Share on X These days, it can be difficult to know when to speak and when to be silent. Here's a book that can help. Share on XWhen everything in the world seems out of control, it’s comforting to step out the back door and immediately be captured by the orderliness of nature.
Each plant in the flowerbed or vegetable patch blooms or bears fruit according to the schedule the Master Gardener drew up for it.