We are Paper Dolls

FLASHBACK FRIDAY

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How many of these did I play with in the 70's?  I LOVED them! They came with cute outfits, and they were cheap!   My Mawmaw and my Moma bought me a lot of them.  They would help me punch out the little outfits because they tore so easily; they were fragile, especially in the hands of a five year old.

Like paper dolls, people are fragile.  Life is fragile.   No matter how fancy we dress or how careful we are, we are easily hurt or "torn" by those we allow in our lives.

One of my favorite quotes is by Bob Marley.
                           
           

Your family may hurt you, but that is only because we hold them so close to our hearts that sometimes we feel we love them more than they love us, whether it is true or not.  They are worth the worry, the arguments, and the tears that come with living.   

If I could put anything on my grandmother's tombstone, it would be, "She was an amazing grandmother."  I only hope that whenever I'm gone, my children, my grandchildren, and my husband will feel that way about me, because without them I am nothing but a paper doll on a shelf, no life, no purpose.

FYI: I don't see paper dolls anywhere anymore, so I did a little googling, and guess what I found?  See if any of these bring back any memories!  You can still buy them by clicking on the link for each.  I think I'll buy a few for when my granddaughter gets to be a little older.  Right now she is ten months old and just enjoys the sound of tearing paper.  <3

Retro Paper Dolls and Where You Can Buy Them:

• Dover Publications
• Google Shopping
• Ebay
• The Find (Very pricey but worth the look just for nostalgia.)

For a view of more nostalgic toys from the 70's, visit my Pinterest board labeled Childhood Memories.  Share some memories of toys you loved back in the day by commenting below.

Peace, love, & happiness!  

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My Family is My Life

Proud Southern Mama & Mimi

Mawmaw taught me that family is everything, and she was so right.  My family means the world to me. 

My son Lane, who turns nineteen today (HAPPY BIRTHDAY SON!) is smart, handsome, and best of all, my inner-hippy in persona.  He lives his life responsibly but fully.  He brings out the fun side of me.  Macy, his girlfriend, is a sweet Southern girl who is also smart; she has the dimples and the good heart that melt this Mama's heart. If I need someone to talk to, I know I can call her and she will be compassionate and probably cry with me.   My grandpups, Minnie & Marley are so sweet that I don't care that they leave hair all over the house, lol.  Marley is a rescue pup that Lane literally found on the road.  He took care of that sick little puppy and loved him until, against all odds, he flourished and is now as big as Clifford the Big Red Dog.  He is the only big dog I have ever loved.  

My son, future daughter-in-law and grand-pups

My daughter, son-in-law and granddaughter on the day Eleni was born

 Brittany is my inner artist child.  I always wanted to create beautiful art and she does it.  She is beautiful and creative.  Like me, she is not afraid to stand up for what is right, and I love that about her. There have been many long days since I became ill that would have been very lonely if Brittany had not come over with Eleni.  Thank God they live a stone's throw away from me.   Her husband Graylon cuts my grass and does anything I need him to do.  What more could a mother-in-law ask for?   Most of all, I will forever be grateful to him for allowing me to be in the delivery room when Eleni was born.  I will never be able to thank him enough for that.  

My husband and I in Paris

 My husband and I have been married for almost 13 years.  Like any couple, we have had our ups and downs, but he is my best friend.  When I'm sick he takes care of me and when I need him he is always there.  He coached T-ball, took our kids on our honeymoon, and loves them and Eleni like crazy.  I love you, baby!

My Sunshine, Eleni

Need I say more!! My sunshine is the light of my life.  I never understood how much Mawmaw loved me until Eleni was born.  You just can't be sad when this kid is around!!  I love you Sunshine!

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Aunt D's Shocking Past

    

 ‘Les Demoiselles D’Avignon’ by Pablo Picasso

My grandmother taught me to respect and to be hospitable to others, especially when they were guests in her home.  Through her stories and her behavior, she also taught me not to judge others.  Kind of like the parables in the Bible, she often made her point by telling stories instead of by saying things outright.  When I look back over all the the stories that she told me about others, especially those about some of our relatives, I think that she was trying to teach me that it's okay to have your opinions about other people's actions, but you should keep them to yourself.  After all, we all have things in our lives we wish we could do over. We have all done things that may seem questionable to others; but life isn't black and white.  It is easy to judge someone if you have not walked in their proverbial shoes.  My grandmother was one of the most religious people that I have ever known, but she never used her religion as a platform to judge others.  I love that she instilled that in me at a young age.

Mawmaw used to tell me a lot of secrets; the older I got, the more she told me.  The most shocking story was the story about Aunt D's past.  Aunt D married into the family long before I came around.  In fact, her husband died before I was even born, but she still came to family functions and visited my grandparents from time to time.   Aunt D must have been in her seventies when I was a child, but she sure didn't dress or act like it.  All of the elderly women I knew dressed like little old ladies, but not Aunt D!  I NEVER saw her without full makeup, jet black, teased hair, skin tight Calvin Klein's, sparkly button-up shirts, and four inch heals.  Despite her best efforts, her age showed in the lines on her face, but never in any other way.  She walked with amazing posture and confidence not usually seen in women her age, especially women who had lived through as much as she had.  Not only was she relatively young when she was widowed, but she also had three children who were constantly getting into trouble.  Aunt D also carried a big secret in her lines and Calvin's, one more shocking than I would have ever guessed.

One day when I was about twelve or thirteen, I asked my grandmother why Aunt D dressed and acted so differently from other women her age, at least the ones that I knew.  My Mawmaw told me, mostly in French, that it was because Aunt D grew up very differently from the other women that we knew.  In fact, before Aunt D married into our family, she was a full time prostitute.  I don't know if I was more shocked by Aunt D's past or by the fact that I was hearing this story come from Mawmaw, who was undoubtedly the most prim and proper woman I knew!   I had never seen my Mawmaw treat Aunt D any differently than she treated anyone else, so how could she be an ex (shhh) hooker?  I was so naive.

My grandmother went on to explain that my Uncle C met his future wife in the bar where she picked up clients.  Apparently, Uncle C fell head over heels in love with her the day that he met her, and he did not waste time before proposing marriage.   From what I hear, he worshiped her until the day he died.  She must have changed her ways and devoted herself entirely to him as well because they were happy for many, many years.  Even on his death bed, he begged his family to please look after his "beautiful wife."  He was felt guilty about leaving her alone.  (I'm tearing up here.)

My grandmother treated Aunt D just as lovingly as she did everyone else.  She explained to me that if Aunt D's past didn't bother Uncle C, then it shouldn't bother anyone else.  Because of my grandmother, I never thought less of Aunt D because of her past.  If anything, I just felt more compassion for her. I often wondered, and still do, what kind of childhood she had and what led to her feel that she had to do what she did to get by.  From research I learned that she had at least eight siblings and came from a poor family.  Who knows what other factors led her become a prostitute.  Perhaps it wasn't her choice at all.

It makes me think of the movie Pretty Woman.  Like Vivian, Aunt D met her prince.  He saved her from a life where she felt she had no choices; he made her feel loved and cherished, maybe for the first time in her life.  Now that she is gone, I wish that I could go back in time and do something nice for her. I wish that I could ask her about her life with Uncle C. Their love and years of commitment to each other is living proof that we are not defined by our pasts and that love can truly change our lives.


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Christmas Hospitality

They say that every family has "colorful" people, and ours is no exception.  From cooky old men to washed up women of the night, our family has had them all. Don't get me wrong, most of our relatives are just regular people; they have their ups and downs but lead average lives with no big deviations from the norm. Life would be boring, however, if we didn't have some family members who live outside the box, and no matter how outside the box they were, Mawmaw still fed them, served them coffee on a silver tray (or had me do it) and made them feel welcome.  She raised my mother to be the same way.  They both taught me to treat everyone who came into our home with respect, no matter how crazy, drunk, annoying, or just plain nasty they happened to be.  Don't get me wrong, they couldn't wait until certain visitors got into their cars and drove away, but until they did, they treated them like they treated everyone else, with good old fashioned Southern manners and fantastic cooking.   Though I'm not nearly the perfect hostess like my mother and grandmother, their unconditional hospitality taught me to be less judgemental and more empathetic of others. Even though I don't judge them, it will still be a hoot to write about some of the hilarious things that they have done.

Though I doubt any of them will be reading my blog, especially the dead ones, I will still use initials to protect their identities.  Today I'll tell you about Cousin J, my mother's female cousin who showed up on our doorstep one Christmas Eve with a "present" Moma would never forget.

Moma was close to all of her cousins, including Cousin J.  Their families got together regularly, and Cousin J was, and still is, a kind, funny person.  Even though she and Moma were always friends as well as relatives, they lived in different towns, so they had different experiences, friends and influences.  As a result, they went in completely different directions both physically and morally.  My Mawmaw raised my mother to be a lady.  Not only was she prim and proper, she was genuinely flabbergasted by lewd behavior.  Cousin J had good parents as well, but she grew up to be a bar hopping, truck driving, love the one you are with kind of gal.  There is nothing wrong with that, but the things that she did and said sometimes shocked my rather sheltered mother beyond belief.

One Christmas Eve, Cousin J showed up on our doorstep with her daughter in tow. Her daughter was the same age as me; I think we were both nine or ten at the time.  She didn't have any gifts for her daughter, so my parents went out and bought a few things to put under the tree for her to open on Christmas morning. Moma and Daddy were by no means wealthy, but they worked hard and had big, generous hearts.

After sleeping in our immaculate guest room that night, Cousin J casually walked up to my mother, who was (surprise, surprise) cleaning before dawn, and asked her if she had anything for itching.  My mother, still in her suburban state of oblivion, innocently asked her if she "had a rash or something."  Her jaw then dropped to the you could eat off of the floor clean kitchen when Cousin J replied, "Noooooo, I have cooties!"  I don't know how my mother got through the rest of the day, but much to her credit, she never said a negative thing to Cousin J.  To this day, she still treats her the same way that she did before that Christmas.  All day long my mother cooked, cleaned and played the perfect host.  Meanwhile,  little blood vessels were breaking in her head as her anxiety and desire to disinfect grew intolerable.  Late that afternoon, Cousin J wasn't even half way out of the driveway before Moma snapped on her little yellow Playtex gloves and began to quickly yet thoroughly bleach anything and everything her cousin had touched, sat on or drank from.  Luckily, Cousin J had only used one bathroom (mine of course) while she was visiting because Moma didn't allow me to use that bathroom for weeks!

Cousin J was far from being our most most off color relative.  In the next few posts, I'll share stories about some others whose either lived on the wild side or who were not the brightest crayon in the box.  It takes a lot of colors to make a full box of Crayons, and our extended family about as colorful as a sixty-four pack.


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Living Without Regrets

My Daddy,

Carroll Thibodeaux

“Have you ever lost someone you love and wanted one more conversation, one more chance to make up for the time when you thought they would be here forever? If so, then you know you can go your whole life collecting days, and none will outweigh the one you wish you had back.” 
― Mitch Albom, For One More Day


My parents and my grandparents all lost way too many people they loved way too soon.  Because of their losses, they learned how important it was to treat those you love like there is no tomorrow.  Luckily for me, they raised me to do the same.  Sadly, I lost most my father and my grandparents way too soon.  The most difficult loss was the loss of my father who died when I was only twenty.  It was sudden and unexpected. There was no time to say goodbye, no time to prepare for life without him. I miss my grandparents and my father every day, but I find comfort in knowing that they knew how much I loved them.  If I didn't truly believe that they knew how much I loved them, I don't think that I could live with the regret and the grief.  The grief is far too painful on its own.

Rules that I was taught to live by:

• Dont' assume that you have time to show those you love how much they mean to you because they can be gone in the blink of an eye.  
• Friends are important, but your parents and grandparents are the ones who love you more than you can possibly understand.  You don't realize their impact on your life until you can't pick up the phone and call them or drive over to their house and see them.  
• Don't ever end a conversation without saying, "I love you."
• When your parents and grandparents get sick, take care of them and spend every minute that you can with them.  They WILL NOT always be there when you have more time for them.  Make time now.
• Ask yourself these questions: If you never had another day with them, have you said everything you wanted to say? Have you shown them how much they mean to you?

I was anything but a perfect daughter and granddaughter.  I got good grades and I didn't get into A LOT of trouble, but I went through a rebellious stage just like most teenagers. However, I always remembered these lessons that were instilled in me from a young age.  When my grandmothers were ill and in the hospital, I would spend the night with them so that they didn't have to be alone.  I never ended a conversation with my parents or grandparents without telling them that I loved them.  I asked them questions about their childhoods and listened to their stories with genuine interest. I never let them feel like they were a burden when they asked me for my help. I spent every holiday with them, and I did not let anything stop me from spending time with them. Time is the greatest gift that we can give those we love.  When they are gone, we don't regret a single minute that we spent with them.  We only wish that we had just one more day, one more hour, one more chance to say, "I love you and you mean the world to me.  Thank you for loving me."

The love that I shared with my father and my grandparents still carries me on my dark days.  I still feel them guiding me when I feel lost and alone.  Sometimes my father guides me in very obvious ways.  The sadness that I feel when I cannot drive to my grandmother's house and just spend the day watching television with her or when my grandbaby smiles and I so want my father to see her will never go away.  However, I find great comfort in knowing that they never doubted my love while they walked this Earth and as they left it behind.  I thank God every day that I told them how much I loved them every day and, more importantly, that I showed them.

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