Still

5 Minute Friday

Its Friday again, and time to play with Lisa-Jo and friends.  On Fridays, we write for the joy of the words.  We write with no edits or do-overs.  Simply write for the joy of it.  We set the timer and let our words flow from our hearts into our fingertips and onto the screen.  I just love 5 minute Fridays.  Its a wonderful excercise.

So, the timer is set.

The prompt is 'Still'

Go:

The earliest thing I really remember is being in a crib in my parents't room as a toddler.  And the feeling of being surrounded with comfort and warmth.  Because my Sweet Daddy was there.

I was a Daddy's girl from the time I could call him "My Sweet Daddy".  I'm told I would save a hurt knee all day long and begin crying pitifully when he opened the door so he would kiss it and make it better.  I'm sure that drove my Mother crazy!

I still remember being very naughty once when I was about 4 and begging my Mother to spank me, spank me please...but don't let my Sweet Daddy know I was a bad girl.

Istill  remember him holding me in his arms and singing to me and teaching me to trust in God during a storm, because I was terrified of the strom.

I still remember the look in his eyes when he baptized me.

I stil remember the tears that fell from his eyes as he walked me down the aisle and gave my hand to a young 2nd Lieutenant in marraige, and then stepped around us and performed the ceremony himself.

I still remember calling him when a doctor suggested I abort my second baby, because he thought it could get messy.

I still remember him offering his love and support when I called him to let him know that my teenaged daughter was pregnant and I didn't know where to turn.

I still remember showing him the broken pieces of my heart when my marraige failed.  I remember how important it was to me that he love and respect my new husband when I bravely tried again.

I still remember all these thing.

And still...always and ever...

still...

I am a Daddy's girl. 

In fact,

I'm the Queen of Daddy's girls.
Always
Still


~Mollianne

(Pictures added after timer)

Grateful-and Holding



Here's the challenge. Write for 5 minutes. No rewrite. No edits. Write straight from your heart for the pure joy of forming the words and sentences that put expression to your thoughts and feelings. Then, link up to The Gypsy Mama and share the link. 

Its 5 Minute Friday, y'all!  Come on and join the fun!

The prompt:  Grateful
Go:

In April of 1981, I sat in front of my black and white television with an infant in my arms and a toddler at my side and watched the first launch of our new Space Shuttle program. Tears of wonder and awe streamed down my face.  I was not yet a full-blown space nerd, but I was entralled with the program and wanted to be sure that my children grew up aware and excited about the US Space Program. 

I thought of watching launces during school and that thrilling Sunday evening when we saw the pictures of the first moon walk.  It was an exciting time to be alive.

Little did I know in 1981 that my life would take the course that it has, or that space flight would become such a part of my life.  My husband, my amazing Rocket Man, builds space flight hardware.  He is a NASA subcontractor and has been involved with the Shuttle program for 29 years.  I have walked the past 13 years of his career with him.

It was one of the greatest thrills of my life to be beside him on October 28, 2009 when  ARES IX launched successfully and to know of his part in it. 

Tonight... this morning...I am watching the end of that era.  Atlantis is on the pad and the clock is at T-3:00:00 and holding. 

And I am very grateful.  Grateful to have had a brush with this noble dream and program of a proud America.  Grateful that I can tell my grandchildren and great-grandchildren that their Granddaddy was a part of that.  Grateful that something so amazing and awesome a part of our everyday life.  Grateful that when I crest the hill of my daily drive, I look out and see Saturn Rockets strongly standing sentry at the entrance to our town, Rocket City USA.

The beginning and end of an era.  And I am grateful to have been a witness.  I will not soon forget. 
Godspeed, Atlantis.  Fly true and wing your way back to us.  For all you represent.  For all your proud moments of glory.  For the brave crew who have flown you over and over again.  I am grateful.
Always.
Grateful.

photo added after timer...taken with my phone
from the television coverage of NASA TV

Home

Here's the deal:  We write for 5 minutes from our heart.  We write unedited. We write for the joy of it.  We write without rewrites. We write and we link up and we share with each other.  Pretty neat idea. Come with me and join http://www.thegypsymama.com/ for 5 minute friday!  You won't be sorry, I promise.

The Prompt:  Home
Timer set for 5 minutes

Go:

Home.  I used to think it was a house.  Where I grew up.  Where my parents were.

No longer.

Home. It became the house where my children were.  Where we laughed and sprawled and crawled and it was a vast array of different houses, as we were a military family.

No longer.

Home.  It turned into a place I didn't want to be because it was as empty as my soul when their father left and the children scattered and I was facing a dark and uncertain future...alone.

No longer.

Home.  Now it  is that place where I handed my very wonded and bruised heart to a man whose heart was so tender and also war-worn.  Home is where he kissed me and in that kiss I began to believe that my heart could heal.  Home is where he put his arms around me and they have stayed.  Home is where he brushes my hair from my face and whispers, "God Bless my Molli and keep her in His care" in the middle of the night when he thinks I'm asleep. Home is where he intentionally works out to stay strong should I need him to lift me and carry me up the stairs on days I just can't make it myself.   Home includes all of our children and grandchildren and extended family, but mostly, it is that circle of unending, undying love of a union born from hurt and pain, cemented with grit and determination, blessed of God and nurtured with love, care, tenderness and laughter. 

Home, for me, is in the presence of the Rocket Man of my dreams.  Where he is, where we are togehter...that is home. My forever love.  My heart...Ed Massey

Stop

{Picture added after the timer}

~Mollianne

Somehow

Somehow, I thought I'd have more anwers than questions when I reached my {clears throat loudly} mid-fifties!  Silly me.


Somehow, I never really believed that I'd have to exercise more and eat less as I got older to maintain a size 6 body.  Ooops!  That one is in the rear view.  Silly me.


Somehow, I thought that once I was no longer listening for babies needing to be fed, children who might be ill or having a bad dream, teenagers sneaking in after curfew, or a husband who worked shifts...I would sleep deeply and soundly all night long.  Silly me.


Somehow, I thought that my energy levels would always remain high and I would be able to clean house all day and go dancing all night...forever.  Or at least long past this age.  Silly me.


Somehow, I thought I would magically become disciplined in all aspects of life when I attained midle age.  Silly, silly me.


But you know what?  Where I am...still full of questions, size larger than 6 body, insomniac, less than energetic and still not as disciplined as I would like to be...I'm mostly okay with most of that.  Because what I have somehow gained over the years is more grace. 

Grace to learn to trust God more fully for all my needs. Grace to become friends with me.  Grace to give myself a break.  Grace to linger over the good things and try to forgive the bad.    The grace of being loved wholeheartedly by a good man.  Grace to enjoy my grown up children and their spouses, my stepchildren and my adolescent grandchildren.  Grace to embrace my aging parents in new and poignant ways.  I find new graces daily and cling to them.


Somehow, in all that grace, I've found that I sort of like me.  Lots more than I ever thought I would.  Silly me! 

~Mollianne

Cranky!

It doesn't happen often, or at least I don't recognize it if it does, but I woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.  Feeling cranky.  Really mean cranky.  And I don't know why.

The first person I talked to was Chef Phil at work.  When he asked me how I was, I said, "I'm cranky."  He kissed me on the cheek and told me I might be cranky but I smelled nice.  Instead of saying, "Thank you!" as my Mother and Neenie taught me to say when someone said something nice, I said (maybe snarled), "Better to smell nice and be cranky than to stink and be cranky."  But I smiled after I said it.

When another co-worker asked me how I was feeling, I said, "Cranky!"  We went on to have a nice conversation, in fact...we laughed about it.

Rocket Man called to check on me, as he often does, and I told him I was feeling cranky.  He asked why and I had no answer.  I told him I was just cranky and that was that.

Even my Mother called and I told her I was cranky and she laughed. She told me, as she has for years, "You have the same pants to get glad in that you had to get mad in."  Wisdom from Ruby Jean, a dear friend.  We then laughed about my crankiness.

As the day wears on, I find that the more I say I'm cranky, the less cranky I feel.  And the more I am inclined to laugh at my earlier assessment that I'm cranky.

Seems that my crankiness abated a bit once I was in a nice, air-conditioned building that felt cool. 

I'm anxious to see if I feel cranky when I go out in a few minutes. 

I'm not much of a mathematician.  But I have come up with a formula.  It goes like this:

Ho + Hu + SRDMB = CM

{Hot + Humid + Sweat Rolling Down My Back = Cranky Molli}

I'm afraid its gonna be a lo-o-n-g summer!

~Mollianne

Five Minute Friday...On forgetting

Here's the challenge.  Write for 5 minutes.  No rewrite.  No edits.  Then, link up to
The Gypsy Mama

The prompt:  On forgetting
Go:

I'm learning to live with it, but I don't like it. I have some neurological issues and one way it manifests itself is that I forget. It is mostly short term memory loss, but still...it is unfamiliar territory to me.

I have to write things down. All things. I used to keep a calendar because it was socially acceptable, but I didn't need it. I remembered all the appointments, birthdays and other things that one puts in a calendar. I remembered my schedule and my childrens' as well. I knew those things. Just knew them.

I could remember your birthday if you ever told me the date. I just remembered. I couldn't remember my husband's birthdate last week. I look at my grandchildren and ask, "What is your name? Do I know you?" I do it to be funny, but it is because the name is simply gone.

I live with the fear that I will forget more and more. That I will forget my husband, my children, my grandchildren, the life that we have worked so hard to build together. That I will forget my faith. That I will forget myself.

Stop

In Which I Say Much of Nothing about Why I Haven't Blogged Much of Late

In the midst of a vacation, a tornado, an anniversary, a birthday and some other stuff...life has gotten totally out of hand here in MolliWorld.  And while I am filling up a notebook with things to post about, I haven't gotten around to posting anything lately. 

In fact, not much has gone the way I planned lately.  I'm not complaining, I'm simply rolling with it. 

So, while I'm in the process of some major changes involving my blog, I'm not actually doing much in the way of blogging.  Please bear with me.  Things are about to change...in a big way.

Rest assured, Rocket Man still rocks my world.  I'm still working at the Church House.  The Boys Fantastic are still in the picture.  My Annie with the million watt smile is another semester closer to graduation.  Our left west coast kids are doing A-okay.  I had a very nice, if somewhat low key, birthday.  Things are rocking along.  I'm just not writing about it at present. 

Stay tuned, though.  Because I'm about a month away from my next round of poison steroids.  I'll be writing like crazy, if past infusions are to be repeated.

I hope you are all doing well.  We're having a normal 3-day weekend around here.  Rocket Man has already asked if he can buy me breakfast tomorrow...and if I want to go to work with him tomorrow, since he's working on Saturday.  Ah....the good life!

Have a wonderful Memorial Day Weekend!

~Mollianne