This is Friday, just in case you needed that bit of information. The weather is suppose to be great today. Maybe I will get a boost of energy and pick up the yard. But please don't hold me to it. I will do something constructive, I promise.
I had my blog worked out in my mind. I started writing and my mind is not cooperating at all. I have been wanting for weeks to write about my two children. I keep hesitating, For I am afraid I might not do justice to them both. I mentioned to my son I was going to do a blog about them one day and I thought he would pass out. But I started this morning and I have saved the rambling words to draft for now.I will slide it onto the back burner. I do not see either of them the way the world does. I look at her and see this little girl, curly hair so tight you could not get a comb through it. I look at Jer and see the little boy with the dancing eyes. The one he who could spin a potato masher in his fingers and a wooden sword in the other hand. They are forever painted in my mind as those two children.
Billie was always quiet, not really shy. She just didn't let her words spill out into a room the way I do.She was afraid when she was small of having anything took over her head. I sent her to her Dad's one weekend. His wife bringing her home on Sunday so aggravated because they had not been able to take her sweatshirt off. She was afraid they would smother her. When Gerry had left I asked her why she was afraid. I had visual pictures of them chasing her through the house, the sweatshirt dangling around her neck. The air in her lungs in danger of being snuffed out forever. She shrugged, "I just didn't want them too." And her Dad had not made her do it. Her step-mother always griped how he didn't make her mind. He let her jump on the bed, he let her tell them what they should eat. I tried to make her understand, he had her children everyday. Billie only every other weekend. But I don't think she ever really understood the concept. He was afraid if they made her unhappy she wouldn't come back. When I do write about them I want to be sure and tell you what a great Mother she is and grandmother. How she has a high standard for herself and always reaches that goal. She is like her Uncle Bud, at the game of life she suits up and shows up. You can't ask more than that from anyone. I am sure the young kids that work for her at night think she can be a hard-ass. But she never moans, groans or complains. She works, sick or well. People I am sure disappoint her for there are not many who are prone to be that way.
Jer came into the world moving and grooving. Jer has never wanted life to pass him by. He participates. In the last three years he has been to California, Florida, Mexico, New York city and Haiti. In Haiti he danced with the children and embraced a people who smiled, sang and danced. Their skin tones might have been different but he took them into his heart. Around four years ago Jeremy discovered God in his life again. He heard a calling and he responded. He officially this month takes on the job of Associate Pastor at the church he works in. He goes to Bible college full time, works with the men and women's houses. He is always on the go, taking people places, doing God's work. He doesn't get a very big paycheck for doing those things. But he trusts in God and God seems never to let him down. We tend to try too put people in the places we think they should be. Myself included. You want for your children all the niceties of life. Jeremy has a different picture of what his life means. In doing what he feels is the right thing, what God wants him to do. He opens himself up for criticism. I am sure it bothers him but he just trusts God and keeps going forward.
I am proud of both my children. They are different as night and day. But each so very special in their own way. Billie quiet, strong. Jer bouncy and trouncey just like Tigger. they are both awesome. I look at them, their life's and tears fill my eyes. For truly I am blessed. The quiet, hard working dependable Billie. The crazy white American who loves Jesus. My Jeremy. Remind me will you? I want to write about them someday.
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