Family History--The Cooley Link

30 years ago today Craig Cooley and I were married. It was a beautiful, joyous day full of hope and love, family, friends, tears and laughter. People very dear to me participated in the day. Terry Looney, our former youth minister, performed the ceremony. Barry and Kellye Taylor were our best man and matron of honor. Alan Mahaffey served as wedding photographer and, as our wedding gift, gave us the photos to mark the day. Some of our best friends sang for the wedding. Our families were there in nearly full force--parents, siblings, nieces, nephews, cousins, aunts and uncles. My sister Betty hand sewed my wedding dress, which is still a beautiful work of art. I still have and will always cherish that dress because Betty made it with hours and hours of skill and love. (I can't believe I ever fit into it and at the time it was even a tiny bit big. Was I really that small?)

Craig and I have now been divorced for 21 years and you might think it odd that I would post about this day. What I want you to know is that, although the marriage didn't last, it was the beginning of the next link, a good link, in the family history. Craig and I hold no bitterness or anger toward one another. We were friends before and are now. Best of all, out of our love came our two handsome sons, Nathanael Alan Cooley and Joshua Blake Cooley, who are the pride and joy of our lives. Nat and Josh are the next links in our line of the family. They will have children and the Cooley and Wood family will continue to live through generations to come, hopefully. (As a side note, boys, I want grandkids, but only when it is the right time for you and your family. No pressure, honest!)

Family history isn't always perfect and tied up with a big red bow. As a matter of fact, most families aren't perfect. That's what makes them real and interesting, isn't it? Family history, good, bad, and ugly is always part of who we are and who we become. I love my family. I like the person I've become because of my family and my history. I am thankful to God beyond measure for the gift of my sons. Without that wedding day 30 years ago, I could not say that. God is good.

Memory, words, colors, prayers and God

This week has been such that I'm rather tired of computers...and my own limited memory. (I changed the password to my mini laptop and despite racking my brain and trying a couple of recovery programs, my mini is still locked.) I'm writing this brief post on my iPod.

I received my latest copy of Southern Living today and I was struck by how much I love printed magazines. They're slick, colorful, and full of ideas and wonder. They require no passwords and if you forget to bookmark your page, no matter! Just flip through and voila! Instant smile. It's the little things that make life good.

My friends' husband had major heart surgery this week. He's doing well, but I worried a lot about both Paul and Becky. I have to say that I've been talking to God constantly this week and listening more. God answers prayers. Even the ones we don't put words to...or remember.

Happy Birthday Nat!

28 years ago today my son Nat was born. It was a rough day for both of us, but he finally arrived at 2:32 p.m. via emergency C-section.

Nat shortly after birth

For the first couple of hours (days), every time I held him or nursed him, we would both fall asleep after about 3 minutes. (General anesthesia after 24+ hours of laboring for mother and baby will do that to you.) When we were both awake, we would just stare at each other. I was studying every little bit of him and storing those miracles and memories in my heart. Nat, on the other hand, was staring at me skeptically as if to say, "Who the heck are you?!"

Our first week together was a blur, but I took pictures of the moments with my heart's eyes and tucked them away to remember forever. It was the 1980's in the pre-digital photo era. Rolls of film came with 12, 24, or 36 exposures. We have pictures, obviously, but not as many. The best pictures are in our memories anyway, don't you think?

My memory pictures include Craig holding Nat with pride, love, and sheer terror; Nat sleeping in his bassinet in the living room while family and friends gathered to meet him; and Grandmas Wood and Cooley taking turns holding the new grandson. Oh, and then there's the one of Craig and Esmerelda, our cat, fighting all over the apartment after Esmerelda hissed and scratched at newborn Nat. I guess Esme wasn't happy with the new creature in the house who was stealing all our attention. (After the fight, Esmerelda became Nat's own personal guard cat. She was very protective of him and would hiss if someone not on her approved list got too close to him or presumed to pick him up without permission.) There are also pictures of Nat sleeping, Nat nursing, and Nat screaming because he wanted his food NOW, thank you very much.  Nat liked to eat a lot back then, every 3 hours or else!

Nat--1 month old

My favorite memory picture of all came a couple of days after we came home from the hospital. It was morning and was the first time I was completely alone with my new son. I was sitting on the green plaid couch in the living room with Nat laying on my lap, wide awake for the first time. I sat there and marveled at every precious inch of my firstborn: the red "stork bite" birthmark on the nape of his neck, his head of light hair, deep blue eyes, and perfectly formed fingers, toes, ears, and nose. He was adorable and I couldn't quit looking at him, soaking him in and talking to him. I was filled with that awe that new mothers and dads feel when first having a child. This baby in my lap was a true miracle just by his existence and second by his surviving such a traumatic labor and delivery. I was completely filled by a deep, aching maternal love for him that still exists today. When I had his brother, Josh, it happened all over again.

Baby boy Nat grew up into a gentle giant who at 6'3" towers over his 5'3" tall mother. In my heart, though, part of him will always be my baby.

Craig, Elaine & Nat Cooley
June, 1984

Lives of Hope and Love

My true epiphany of the other day was this:  Thoreau said that men lead lives of quiet desperation. Many people do live in quiet desperation. However, I believe that most people lead lives of hope and love. When we live in hope and love, no matter what form our lives take, whether we're famous or unknown, are farmers, secretaries, bankers, lawyers, doctors, laborers or poets, our lives are well lived. Everyone's life is necessary and has meaning when lived in hope and love. God provides the best hope and love of all. A life lived with God is always significant.

The Lanyard by Billy Collins

I wanted to share this on Mother's Day, but left the book at home. Better late than never I guess! My version of the lanyard was a cigar box covered with glued on macaroni and spray painted blue. Mother kept it forever and I still have it. (You'll understand this when you read the poem.) I also hope I don't get into copyright trouble for sharing this online.

The Lanyard by Billy Collins

The other day as I was richocheting slowly
off the pale blue walls of this room,
bouncing from typewriter to piano,
from bookshelf to an envelope lying on the floor,
I found myself in the L section of the dictionary
where my eyes fell upon the word lanyard.

No cookie nibbled by a French novelist
could send one more suddenly into the past--
a past where I sat at a workbench at a camp
by a deep Adirondack lake
learning how to braid thin strips
into a lanyard, a gift for my mother.

I had never seen anyone use a lanyard
or wear one, if that's what you did with them,
but that did not keep me from crossing
strand over strand again and again
until I had made a boxy
red and white lanyard for my mother.

She gave me life and milk from her breasts,
and I gave her a lanyard.
She nursed me in many a sickroom,
lifted teaspoons of medicine to my lips,
set cold face-cloths on my forehead,
and then led me out into the airy light

and taught me to walk and swim,
and I, in turn, presented her with a lanyard.
Here are thousands of meals, she said,
and here is clothing and a good education.
And here is your lanyard, I replied,
which I made with a little help from a counselor.

Here is a breathing body and a beating heart,
strong legs, bones, and teeth,
and two clear eyes to read the world, she whispered,
and here, I said, is the lanyard I made at camp.
And here, I wish to say to her now,
is a smaller gift--not the archaic truth

that you can never repay your mother,
but the rueful admission that when she took
the two-tone lanyard from my hands,
I was as sure as a boy could be
that this useless, worthless thing I wove
out of boredom would be enough to make us even.

Epiphany and The Meaning of Life

I had an epiphany this morning while driving through the rain in the hills and canyons between Amarillo and Dalhart, Texas.  I’ve had a similar version of this epiphany several times throughout my life, but as I live life and get involved in things, I tend to turn a little senile and forget it. I think we all do this. We realize something important, have several days, months or even years of clarity and then get lost and forget our way. I could try to be all deep and analytical about the view of life I’m about to share, but I’m not a philosopher. I’m not complicated. I’m a big picture kind of gal and like things simple. So, here’s my simple epiphany from this morning.

There is a circle of life. We’re not always young, always middle-aged, or always old. Each phase of life is important, worthy, and to be enjoyed, wherever you are.  Love one another all through life.  Love family, friends, and strangers. Don’t mourn the past or over-anticipate the future.  Enjoy this moment, right now. Share it with someone you love.  Even when life is hard, difficult, and painful, soak it in, let it be.  Pray.  God will be with you through all things, forever.  God loves you. Lighten up on each other. Forgive and be forgiven.  As long as you’re alive, you have an important purpose even if you don’t realize what it is.  Be yourself and your purpose will be fulfilled.  Love is the answer to all of life.  God is love. Be just, love mercy, walk humbly with your God.

This is a bit garbled, but I'm writing at McDonald's in Raton, NM so forgive me for being garbled.  :-)

Mothers, Daughters, Sons

28 years ago today, exactly, I was exhaustedly awaiting the arrival of my first child. I was hugely pregnant, had not been able to see my feet for several months, could not get into or out of chairs or beds without assistance, and generally looked like a beached whale. I could not WAIT to have my first baby, but was scared too. What if I couldn't handle the labor and delivery? What if the baby was too big? What if I was a horrible, terrible awful mother? What if....

My husband was very sweet and patient with me even though he said years later that I cried every morning for the last month of my pregnancy. He claimed I awoke every morning with, "Will I ever have this baby?!!" I don't recall the every morning part, but I do remember saying that a couple of times. Craig gave me my first Mother's Day card on this date in 1984, although it would be a week before our son, Nathanael, was born. Receiving that card made everything real to me. I suddenly felt and realized the true seriousness of having a baby and raising a child. It terrified me. I panicked. I called my mother.

Mother laughed at me and said, "Of course you'll be a great mother, Elaine! You've been practicing for years with all the babies and kids I took care of and you've always loved and had a way with them. Why would you suddenly panic now?"  Or course, Mother was the best mother I ever met. Everyone always thinks their mother is best, but my mother could givehave given courses in raising children. She knew everything from first aid and major medical illness care to teaching your kiddo to read at the age of 3 or 4, to disciplining that same kiddo when they did something stupid and dangerous like inserting a bobby pin in an electrical socket, to rocking them in the rocking chair and reading stories when they had asthma attacks, to listening to teenagers ad nauseum while they discussed with great angst all the horrors of being rejected by their current crush, and, finally, to telling those same grown kids to get over themselves, pray to God for strength and wisdom, and have that baby!

A week later, on May 20, 1984 at 2:32 p.m., after 24+ hours of labor, I did finally have that baby. I fell completely, deeply, totally head over heels in love with that big baby boy of mine and would have killed anybody in a single shot if they had in any way hurt him or even threatened to do so. When his brother was born one year later on July 12, 1985, I fell completely in love all over again. I was totally gone over my boys and am still that way. The first time your child is placed in your arms, you gaze into each other's eyes, their little fist curls around your finger, and your hearts are forever melded together.

They talk about the mother tigress syndrome and it is true. When a woman has babies, she becomes a stronger, better, wiser, and crazed woman who will do anything to love, protect, and care for her children. There have been instances over the years when I became that tigress, defending my sons physically, mentally and emotionally. At age 50, I can honestly say right here and now that if someone was threatening either of my 6'2" sons, I'd be a roaring tigress again in a heartbeat. That's just what mothers do, right?

My mother was a blessing to me all my life. She was my protective tigress, my wise teacher, and my loving counselor. If not for her, I might not have made it through those early years of babies and new motherhood. She's been gone for 11 years now and I still think of her and her wisdom all the time. The other afternoon as Alan and I were driving down the road to Texas, I suddenly recalled this moment when she was holding each of my sons at the same time, one on each hip. She was beaming with pride, love, and joy and the little boys in her arms were grinning too.  That picture in my mind is the epitome of motherhood to me, all wrapped up in one joyful package. What a priviledge to have had both a wonderful mother and to have been given such beautiful sons.  Happy Mother's Days to all three of you.  I love you with all my heart. 

Every Cloud Has a Silver Lining 5.10.12

(I wrote this yesterday, but just now am able to post.)

The past couple of weeks have been stressful ones. Alan and I have been staying at a friend’s condominium the last couple of days due to part of the stress. We thank God for having a generous friend with a kind spirit who loaned us the condo. The stress isn’t the focus of this post, however. The focus of this post is that in the midst of troubles, God is always there with us and for us. He gives us silver linings. The condo just happens to be on the west side of Colorado Springs, right next to Garden of the Gods. As many of you know, Garden of the Gods is my favorite place in Colorado Springs. The red and white rocks that rise up there are like sentinels guarding the mountains. Buddy and I have taken many good hikes there. Alan has joined us on some of the hikes, too, which are even more special because when Alan comes with us we don’t get lost! That, of course, reveals that Buddy and I have gotten lost on a couple of occasions and felt like conquering heroes when we finally found our way and the car. Those hikes when we’ve gotten lost, however, weren’t without merit. On our “lost” hikes is when we’ve run across deer, rabbits, squirrels and even a fox once. Buddy loves those hikes because nothing gives him greater joy than chasing another creature and then barking at it to show just them who is the boss! One of his favorite things is to bark at and challenge the horses and riders from the riding stables. I’m not sure why Buddy thinks he has to challenge an animal that is ten times bigger than I am, much less 100 times bigger than he is, but he loves to do it! I call it his little big man, macho syndrome.

I took Buddy for a walk a little further on the condo grounds today, topped a rise and was astounded to realize how very close we are to the Garden. Of course, then I had to run back to the condo, get my camera and take pictures. The sun is in the west so they aren’t the best photos and do not in any way do justice to what can be seen with our God-given eyes, but I still thought I’d share them with you.

As I was standing on the rise and looking across at the Garden, at Pikes Peak, and at Cameron’s Cone to the left of the Peak, I was reminded of God. He is always with us and for us, whether we are deliberately seeking Him or not. He remains ever near and reveals His presence in the beauty He spreads before us, whether the beauty is a flower, a mountain, a red rock garden, or the joy of a little dog. He reveals Himself to us in the smiles and love of friends and family, in hearty laughter, and even in the tears we shed at low times in our lives. God revealed Himself to me today in the silver lining of the clouds floating over the mountains and the Garden. He revealed Himself to me in the silver lining of our circumstances. God is so magnificent and loving. I could not live without Him and pray I never have to do so.  I pray that you have discovered God’s magnificent love and grace, in the silver linings He has just for you. (Notice that the silver linings put a smile all over my face!)

Rain to Our Souls

As God brings rain to refresh the dry and thirsty land, may his Spirit rain upon us all to refresh our dry and thirsting souls, to bring healing to hurts and to reassure us of his love. Amen.

Hey Diddle Diddle

Hey diddle, diddle,
the cat's in the middle,
and the dog is lying
asleep in the sun.

Hey diddle, diddle,
life is a riddle,
but it all makes sense
in the Son.

Take some time,
have some fun,
do good whenever
you can.

Love somebody,
Smile and laugh,
Hug in the joy
Of the Son.

Hey diddle, diddle,
life is a riddle,
but it all makes sense
in the Son.