IT WAS THE ECONOMY, AFTERALL

 So we got a wake up call on Election Night: Trump won...carrying all the battleground states and winning the popular vote! I admit I was disappointed and frankly I was surprised as well.

As the post-mortem of the election results have unfolded I found out about many of the political ads that were shown on channels I do not watch as well as ads shown locally in the battleground states. Had I known about these, I would have been more measured in my hope for Kamala's victory.

Those ads focused on use of taxpayer funds for elective sex change operations for incarcerated individuals touting this as something advocated by Vice-President Harris. There were ads alleging that the Vice-President favored post-birth execution of babies-- that is NOT a thing! There were also ads alleging that boys were being dropped off at school in the morning and being picked up as boys in the afternoon! That, too is NOT happening...any time...anywhere in the country. Period.

As I write this, these allegations are preposterous to me: I know that these things are not happening.

But if I heard it thousands of times and had no other information to refute these statements perhaps even I would have believed them. Probably not, but possibly. 

At least it helps me understand the misinformation those viewers were subjected to, indeed that they were brainwashed into believing. Of course, if these things were truly the positions of an administration, of course, I would have voted against that administration.

But, there's more. Trump focused on the facts that the price of groceries and gas is higher now than the prices four years ago. That is true. And people do tend to blame the administration in power for things that occur on their watch. The fact that there are extenuation circumstances that led to this inflation-- post- pandemic supply chain issues, price gouging, bird flu epidemic---but nonetheless, the prices at the grocery store and the gas pump are in fact higher and the reasons, for those living pay check to pay check, simply did not matter. Something had to change. They would certainly vote for change. And, they did.

In addition, people remember that at the beginning of Trump's first term prices were lower and the economy was felt to be in good shape. However, what is not remembered is that those low prices and good economy were the results of President Obama's administration. President Obama handed Trump a great economy, which as the President in power when people experienced it, Trump received credit for that great economy.

Vice-President Harris ran a flawless campaign, raised a billion dollars, had hundreds of thousands of volunteers who knocked on doors to get out the vote. She brought positive plans to address the economy, small business development, child care costs, first home down payment help, and a positive message to bring the country together.

Her qualifications exceed those of any candidate for President in recent history certainly, having served as District Attorney, Attorney General of California, United States Senator, and Vice-President of the United States. The impression spread that people needed to get to know her could have been addressed by a Google search. She certainly went on countless shows not just 60 Minutes but late night comedy shows, podcasts and others.  In the Presidential Debate, she wiped up the floor with Trump.

During her term as Vice-President Kamala Harris represented the President around the world in many high level meetings with world leaders not the least of which was President Zellinsky of Ukraine. She met with small business leaders and others to facilitate the expansion and financing of small businesses. She advanced a plan to enlarge the housing pool to respond to homelessness as well as the housing shortage.

Trump, on the other hand, advanced no policies. He plans to deport between 11 to 20 million people from the United States. Since there are a total of 800,000 law enforcement officers in all branches of government it would be logistically impossible for them to round up and deport more than perhaps between one million and three million people, with the consequent vast devastating impact of the loss of cheap labor, tax payers, law abiding citizens on the communities of this country.

He promised to stop the post birth execution of babies-- which is NOT happening; and to stop the forced sex change operations of boys being dropped off at school being picked up as girls-- which is NOT happening. The sex change operations that are carried out within the prison system is being done within the law: he is unable to change the law or the practice. He will simply just stop talking about it now that he is President, and in essence declare victory over that issue.

Regarding the economy, which is the most robust in the world at this time, he will soon take credit for it, just as he did when he took over from President Obama who presided over a booming economy with massive job growth, low inflation, and higher wages in 2017.

Regarding character, the twice impeached, convicted felon, serial sexual assaulter, misogynist, racist, neo-Nazi supporting, Donald Trump has no comparison to the character of Vice-President Harris. His supporters know who he is and they chose him anyway.  They believed the false proposition that he is FOR them. 

He has promised to protect them from migrants, criminals, brown and black people, from loss of their jobs, and they believed him. They expect him to do that. 

But in fact he will not. What he will do is to endeavor to pass even more tax cuts for millionaires, billionaires, and corporations, leading to higher deficits that he will want to cure by cutting Medicare, Social Security, Medicaid and other social programs for middle class and working class families. 

He will take no action to decrease grocery or gas prices. Ultimately, his supporters will be deeply disappointed that he will not fulfill his promises to them.

The bad news is that there is suffering on the horizon for many many people who voted for Trump. The good news is that we Democrats now have four years to revise our messaging to let the middle and working class learn that we are in fact the party representing the interest of the middle and working class people, of labor unions, of seniors and veterans.  That is who we are as Democrats. We need to improve our messaging to convey that to our constituencies.

The other good news is that the suffering that is surely coming for migrant families, American citizens who are brown or black, working class and middle class families and other groups who voted for him will lead them to vote in 2028 for change. And that will accrue to the Democratic party and the American people who will then vote in their own best interests and that is to elect Kamala Harris as the next President of the United States.

PREPARING FOR EXAMINATION

 I just completed my American Board of Family Medicine Examination. It is the most significant test of my adult life. Here is how I prepared for it:

Over the recent few months I completed 150 hours of Continuing Medical Education hours as well as the knowledge based units covering pediatrics, women's care, diabetes, hypertension, musculoskeletal disorders, and health maintenance.

I asked my Rooted sisters and my Bible Study Fellowship (BSF) sisters to pray for me, along with close friends and family, I asked for their prayers. Dozens of people prayed for me.

The night before the exam I went to sleep early and I slept deeply and well. I performed my morning routine. I wrote in my journal while enjoying my first cup of tea. My Scripture reading was from Judges 3, the story of Gideon, who through the power of the Holy Spirit defeated an army of thousands with 300 men. Then I read about Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego who were challenged to worship an image or be thrown into a fiery furnace. They said no. When they were thrown into the furnace they were not only unharmed there was another in the fire who protected them from harm.

I left early for the hour long drive to the testing center. I was the first to arrive, even before the doors were opened. I went for a walk and took in the fall leaves and brisk wind.

In the testing center I went through the routine and began part one of four sections of the test. First unit I completed with 36 minutes left. I reviewed every question and there was still time left, which I took as my first break.

The second unit went the same way as the first one with time left over and complete review of the questions. I went out for lunch to Cheesecake Factory. I had Shepherd's Pie and 2 glasses of iced tea.

The third and fourth units went similarly. I hit "finish the test" and answered "yes, I'm sure", then I was done. It was finished.

Here is the thing: I was not afraid or nervous. Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. I am thankful that I have passed my Board Exam and I now have doors opened to me that were not before. No, I have not been notified of the results. I am confident in the Holy Spirit that it is done.

BLOG POST QUICK LATE-NIGHT FAST FOOD

BLOG POST           QUICK LATE-NIGHT FAST FOOD

DINNER  MENU

Grilled Tilapia with mayo- mustard sauce on a bun

Roma tomatoes with mayo* black and white pepper

Waldorf Salad

INGREDIENTS

Fresh apples

Walnuts

Mayo

Brown sugar

Spicy brown mustard

Tilapia filets, bought frozen, quick thawed in water in the sink

Roma tomatoes

Potato bread hot dog bun

Black pepper        White pepper    Salt to taste

Lemonade           Sweet tea or unsweet tea

Tonight was  a late night for me. I teach a Bible study on the Gospel of John via ZOOM.   After that, I returned a call to my youngest daughter.

 I called my son as I grilled  the Tilapia.  I responded to  a text with a FaceTime call to a long- time friend: it was quicker to call her back than to text my reply.

So, when it was all done, I was late to dinner and starving. I had grilled the Tilapia while I FaceTimed with my son. When my last call was completed, I took the following steps to complete dinner prep:

The apples had been peeled and quartered earlier in the day.

I took the thick sliced apples and chopped each slice into four pieces.

I added coarse organic brown sugar, golden raisins, chopped prunes, walnuts,  and mayo to the apples. I  stirred the mixture coat the entire mixture with mayo and brown sugar.

I sliced and halved the Roma tomatoes, added a dollop of mayo, then I sprinkled them with  white and black pepper, salt to taste. 

The quick-thawed Tilapia was pan grilled on the stove top .

I sprayed the pan with nonstick spray , adding  about a tablespoon of  olive oil, just enough to cover the bottom of the pan.

 I put the filets into the warmed pan sprinkled white pepper, black pepper, and a little salt on to the top surface of the filets. When browned on the first side, I peppered and salted the other side.

This took just a few minutes.   

I placed the Grilled Tilapia filets on the open-faced hot dog bun. I generously spooned mayo mustard sauce onto the open-faced Grilled Tilapia on a bun.

With the apples quartered and peeled ahead of time, the Waldorf salad prep took maybe 4 minutes. I have tiny plastic bags of walnuts, pecans, raisins, chopped prunes, in a bowl on my counter as quick grab healthy snacks.

Nuts were of course already shelled—bought that way. I broke them into somewhat smaller pieces and added the raisins and prunes to the super quick Waldorf salad.

The mustard sauce is too easy: mayo plus spicy brown mustard. Mix and serve over the Tilapia.

As my beverage, one gallon of  unsweet  and a large bottle of Simply Lemonade. I mixed them, not exactly half and half and I was able to pour the prepared lemonade-tea over ice and voila!  

Often,  I take pictures of the food as I am preparing it and when I plate it.  But tonight,  I was starving .

So,  just as I was about to devour my meal served on a paper plate and an everyday china bowl, I snapped a quick photo before inhaling my food.

Then,  I came to my laptop to share this recipe with you. It is now 12:05 a.m.

BLOG POST FIRST DAY OF KINDERGARTEN

BLOG POST      FIRST DAY OF KINDERGARTEN       

While I grew into loving school you would never have imagined that if you had witnessed the scene when my Daddy dropped me off at kindergarten the first day. Hysterics! Shrieking! Screams! Wailing!

I wrapped my arms and legs around one of my father’s legs and I begged him with tears—real tears—to PLEASE not to leave me there. Mrs. Evans had been through this drill before. She deftly peeled me off my Daddy’s pants leg and freed him so he could go back to work.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Morton, “ Mrs. Evans told him. “She will be fine. We will take good care of her.” Daddy left.

For the first time, I looked around my new environment. The room was below the sidewalk level about three or four steps down. The windows were wooden and were propped open. The door was open as well. We were right on Jeff Davis Avenue a medium traffic street, in a town with 25 mile an hour speed zones. In 1959 cars were not common. There was virtually no traffic during the school morning.

In the back of the big room for the newest kids of whom I was one, there was a HUGE doll house that you could walk into.  There were  windows that were cut out—no panes of glass. There was an opening for a door, but no door attached. There were giant stuffed dolls, some nearly as large as we were at age five.

The main room off to the left led into two other rooms. The one in the back was taught by Miss Lockett. She was tall, slender , brown- skinned: lovely. 

       

She wore glasses. She wore red lipstick;  and, if you needed one, she would give you a kiss. You would have a red lip print on your forehead all day! What a reward! It was bound to dry up tears.

The other room was taught by another teacher whose name escapes me at the moment. She was shorter than Miss Lockett, but taller than Mrs. Evans. Mrs. Evans could be well represented by Mrs. Potts from the Disney animated version of “Beauty and the Beast.”

We learned songs.

This is the way we brush our teeth

Brush our teeth, brush our teeth

This is the way we brush our teeth

Early in the morning.

This is the way we comb our hair

Comb our hair, comb our hair

This is the way we comb our hair

Early in the morning.

Lazy Mary will you get up, will you get up, will you get up?

Lazy Mary will you get up, will you get up in the morning?

No, Mother I won’t get up, I won’t get up, I won’t get up,

No, Mother, I won’t get, I won’t get up in the morning.

He’s got the whole world in His hands

He’s got the whole world in his hands

He’s got the whole world in his hands

He’s got the whole world in his hands.

He’s got the birds of the air                      verse  2

He’s got the fishes of the sea                   verse  3

He’s got you and me sister                       verse  4

He’s got you and me brother                   verse  5

He’s got the little bitty baby                    verse  6

He’s got the whole world in His hands.  verse  7

We had motions and hand movements to accompany each verse.

We had recess. There was an actual manual hand bell that was rung to alert us when recess began and when it ended. We played in a fenced backyard that was blacktopped. There were no climbing things or soft cushioned surface on the ground. There were hopscotch squares drawn in chalk on the black top.

We played dodge ball, and ring games. Ring games are those in which the kids form a circle or ring and hold hands and walk in a circle in one direction and then the other. We would clap and sing, and one person would walk around the outside of the ring carrying a handkerchief*.  

The one walking around the ring would try to drop the handkerchief behind a kid who wasn’t paying attention. But when you found it handkerchief behind you, you got the turn to walk around the outside of the ring of kids, singing and clapping.

After recess we heard the bell ring. We learned to line up single file. We learned to wait. We got to each have a drink of water from the water cooler. Then, we went inside for Orange-Aid and cookies. We didn’t use the term snack. Or you could get white milk or chocolate milk. 

We sat in rows along rectangular tables. We said a blessing over our food before we ate. When did we wash our hands? 

We must have done that. Playing in water is one of really fun things to do as a kid. Oh, yes, after the line up to get water to drink, we went to the bathroom. Then, we washed our hands.

There was nap time. We lay on cots, I think, and rested. The windows were open, and the breezes were cool and fresh. 

There was shady coolness and in the quiet when all the kids were lying down quietly, sleep came easily.

At last, finally, our school morning was over.  My Granny walked up the street to collect me from Kindergarten. She and I walked back home together.

I loved those walks. As a child it seemed far. But I know now that it was perhaps three blocks at the most, and not very long blocks, at that.

BLOG POST HOME DELIVERY

When I was a kid—you know in the dark ages, last century--home delivery was a given, but of certain things that seem far-fetched today. Every morning-- or certain mornings I am not sure which-- the milk man came.

He drove his truck to my Granny Janie’s house and supplied her with milk in a bottle—glass with a cardboard “stopper” from his refrigerated truck.  He had butter, cream, and  I am not sure what else.

Sometimes I think he had, or she bought orange juice, but most of the time she freshly squeezed my juice from an orange that she had cut in half right in front of me. You might think I would have loved that juice, but I did not: it was too tart, and it had pulp in it! But she had strained out the seeds.

The brand of milk was Foremost, and they later changed their name to Farmbest. It was an orange carton, I believe. Milk also came in cartons from the grocery store. We ate Ziegler’s brand bacon and sausage; Colonial Bread;  Jim Dandy grits, and we ate Golden Flake potato chips:  these were all in-state local brands.

Ice came delivered to your home too. Probably, when I was around 5, 1959, some folks still had ice boxes. Those were literally what they sounded like.   A “refrigerator” that did not require electricity but instead held a block of ice, and of course, over time, it melted. That is why the ice man had to come every afternoon. 

My granny had a refrigerator that my mother bought for her. She also had a wringer washer--a washing machine that had two rollers on top to squeeze the water out of your clothes.

Before that I remember that two round tin wash tubs sat on a wooden bench in the back yard under the kitchen window.  One tub held hot soapy water;  the other held the rinse water. 

When the sheets, for example, had been washed and rinsed, they were hung on the line by wooden clothes pins, to dry in the sun and the wind.

Oh, those sheets smelled so good! This was long before fabric softener or deodorizer were dreamed of!

My granddaddy Bill delivered bundles of kindling and firewood to the two rows of apartments making an L-shape near Granny & Bill’s cream-colored little stucco house with the green shingle roof.

The white apartments intersected King Street across a gravel parking lot from Granny’s house. The green apartments made the L-shape and were parallel to King Street. Granny lived at 914 King Street.  As of this writing, the house is still there. You can see an orange line that makes a ring completely around the house. It is the residual of the high-water mark for the floods of 1960 and 1961.

The water came up that high, with red clay dirt to leave the orange line. The water came into Granny’s house and caused the wooden floors to buckle and the linoleum to pucker and raise up.

There were snake skins left when the water receded. That was more than a little scary. It had been an amazing sight for me to see. The Creek was across the street, down the road, behind another row of houses that had been built really RIGHT ON the creek bank.

When the water rose, it came up the hill, crossed the street and swept into Granny’s house. I guess there was at least a foot of creek water in the house. I know they took planks of wood and made little bridges so they could walk into the house to retrieve Granny and her valuables. She came home with us until the creek went back to its bed, across the street down the road, down the hill, behind the houses built right on the creek bank.

I didn’t know those neighbors who lived on the creek. I don’t know what happened to their homes. The area across the street, that road that was heavily lined by trees and bushes was a scary forbidden place. I had my run of the actual street, the houses on both sides for the whole block from Granny’s house all the way to Jeff Davis Avenue. That was my domain. I could go anywhere in that area, but beyond it: no.

Of course, too, one of the reasons that the creek was forbidden, besides snakes, was that I didn’t know how to swim. The trees provided so much shade and the bushes and grass and weeds were right up to the sides of the unpaved gravel road leading to the creek, it was too unappealing. I never ventured anywhere near there.

Bill would push this homemade wheelbarrow with me riding along with him, legs dangling without a care in the world. He would stop at one apartment then the next and they would buy from him the bundle of kindling with which to start the fires in the potbellied stoves on which dinner would be cooked. Or to start the fire in the fireplace to warm the family as they lived… I do not think they would have kept the fire going while they slept: that would have been too dangerous.

Once when I was at Granny’s the adults were in the living room playing cards and drinking too I suppose though they were careful not to let children see such things. I was in Granny’s four poster bed high up off the floor.

A huge coal jumped out of the fireplace and caught the linoleum floor covering on fire! I screamed to alert them. They came running and put the fire out and they called me brave and said I had saved the house from burning down. I was probably five.

BLOG POST FRAMED!

BLOG POST      FRAMED!

            From June 2017 to April 15^th, 2019, I enjoyed an incredible and rare gift. If your offspring live in a different town or a different state,  grandparents and grandkids don’t have the profoundly valuable experience of seeing each other every day.

  My beloved Owen and his mom came to live with us for twenty-two months. For all that time, I got to see Owen every day.

    Three days a week I picked him up from preschool and got to see and hear the world thorough his eyes on the way home. Then we got to play and do after school activities.

      We raced Lighting McQueen and Cruz cars. We blew bubbles. We kicked a soccer ball.

   He got to ride his tricycle with Gram hovering close by. We did table activities, for example, using tongs to pick up cotton balls and putting them into plastic Easter eggs. We played hide and seek with those eggs: I would hide a little item in one and scramble them to see if Owen could find the prize.

We had story time. I read to him Shel Silverstein’s books of poetry for kids. We had fun! 

        With my own children –last century—we did similar things, but different. For example, we made placemats for every season for every holiday. With my almost twin daughters (ages 3 and 4) each strapped into their highchairs around the dining room table, I put the craft stuff out.

       We had finger paint, cut outs from magazines, water-based markers, crayons, glitter, glue and whatever other items were handy in our Family Craft  Box.  My son who was 8 and I – all of us—created to our hearts content.

    For Fourth of July, we had flag stickers along with red, white, and blue markers and paints. Easter: well you can imagine, eggs, crosses, baskets, bunnies. For fall, leaves ; for Advent, candles three purple and one pink and one white … and so on.

            With the Coronavirus Pause, you parents, family members to young kids, have a unique opportunity. It will most likely never happen again. You have TIME. You have time to have creative activity time with your kids or grandkids.

      The array of options for afternoon activities is limited only by your own imagination or what you can Google. After kids have done their classes by ZOOM or FaceTime, kids need a completely different outlet.

       They need the reassurance of time with family that is calm and focused on what is in front of them. They need to do something with their hands.

      They need the opportunity to create, to accomplish, to produce something they can give to you or another loved one, that they can hang up on the refrigerator or in their rooms. Even better, they can send these unique creations to far away Grams and Grandpas to keep those vital relationships strong.

   This morning, I was about to toss an empty Corn Flakes box, when I asked myself, “What else might I do besides consign the box to the trash or even recycling?” I came up with the following options.

Bookmarks

Cut the box into strips about two inches or so wide. Decorate them to your hearts content. Seal them with tape when you are done. You have something you can use; a gift you or your kids can give or display.

Bible Bookmarks

Don’t ever throw away real ribbons. Using a piece of the box that is narrow enough to fit into the space between the pages of your Bible and the cover. Take several ribbons and attach them to the cardboard. You can staple them, or glue them, and seal the connections with mailing tape—or not.

Insert the cardboard piece into that space on the back of your Bible and then you can use the ribbons to mark passages in your Bible or your child’s or grandchild’s favorite story pages in their Bibles or Bible story books, for example.

Photo Frames

    Using scissors or a utility knife, cut out a rectangle and then cut a rectangle within it, so what you have left is frame. Taking a

4” X 6” photograph or a Mother’s Day Postcard and adjust the cut-out rectangle to fit.

        I used a gold marker, a red pen, and heart stickers to decorate my frame. And, viola!

      I have a picture of my older daughter that she made in first grade in a frame that she made at school. That frame is based on a cardboard rectangle which was then covered with fabric, stuffed with cotton, and glued on the back.

        A slip of ribbon was attached to make a hanger. The corners were decorated with eyelet border.

   You can do this with your child or grandchild.  You can do this solo,  for fun, for your own peace of mind. 

              You can let your creative juices flow. Creating something causes the release of  endorphins, natural “feel-good hormones”, just like you get when you work out—only, with these creative adventures, you don’t have to break a sweat!

If you decide to make a frame, let me know. Add a photo to  your comment if you like.

        Like me and follow me on Facebook, Instagram and Twitter. Kindly sign up to get an email alert when a new blog posts.

Thank you. Happy creating!

BLOG POST A NEW MOTHER’S DAY TRADITION

BLOG POST      A NEW MOTHER’S DAY TRADITION

        I am starting a new Mother’s Day tradition, and I thought I would share my idea, in case you want to join me.  I am a memorabilia saver. My love language is words of affirmation.

When I get cards, letters, and notes that bring me lovely sweet memories, thoughts, and feelings, I keep them.  I am a writer-- since childhood. Words are my friends. I LOVE words.

So, yesterday, when I was missing my Mom and my Granny, I pulled out my memorabilia album and I read and re-read my Mother’s Day cards-- and other cards-- from my beloved daughters and sons, and a super precious one from Owen.

“Knock! Knock!”  

“Who’s there?”  (Repeat: you know the drill)

“Knock! Knock!”

“Who’s there?”

“Orange.”

“Orange who?”

“Orange you glad you’re my grandma?”

Signed in 4-year-old letters: OWEN.

They will find this card among my effects when I pass away! That’s what tells, really, what you treasure: what you choose to keep.   As I treasure the apple of my eye, Beloved Son’s Beloved son,  his card, his wishes for me are priceless.

Last fall, when his school held a gift fair, Owen shopped there for me. He chose a gift for me: a globe, made of some bouncy material, a ball.

 It is prominently displayed on my worktable. When I look at it, and I see it hundreds of times a day, I think of my precious Owen and I smile, and I thank God for him.

I had a really special gift for 22 months, that, in this day and age, many Gram’s don’t get. Owen and his mom lived with me.

I got to see him every day. I got to pick him up from pre-school. As we drove home, we read signs, picked out words he could recognize. We looked at trees and flowers and cars.

Owen is a whiz with recognizing models of cars. I am not. I know cars by COLOR, with few exceptions.

But he would point out to me Ford Escape (his mom’s car); Chevy Tahoe (his dad’s car); Toyota truck ( his Grampa’s truck); and Toyota Highlander ( Gram’s car.)

He was four. I don’t know if you are impressed, but I was.

 I am.

I got to give him his dinner and read or talk while he ate. Some evenings we were able to FaceTime with his Daddy.

Bath time was both hectic and, at times, quite sweet.

He liked for me to wrap him completely in a large towel, forming a hood over his head. He called this making an “ Owen burrito”.

We got to take him on his first Halloween outing. He was Bob the Minion.   We looked at the full moon. We walked down the hill in the dark and he rang the doorbell of a couple of our neighbors. They “oohed” and “ahhed” over him.  He collected candy and treats and practiced saying “thank you.”

When we got home, he rang our bell too, and we came in the front door, not our usual entrance.   I interviewed him (on video)  about our adventure. Thank You, Jesus, for technology at my fingertips to photograph and record.

He answered, when prompted, but he was enjoying munching on  goldfish, one of the treats. He was aware though, of the brightness of the moon, saying “trick or treat”, and  “getting candy”. He was 35 months old.

For his second Halloween with us,  he was a character from Lightning McQueen. His mom was able to come on this adventure.

We had decorated and painted and carved a pumpkin. We had visited a farm so he could pick blackberries  and blueberries.

 We walked across the fields, enjoyed a sunny breezy day on a farm. We went home with buckets of berries. I went home with a heart full of joy.

Bedtime was my favorite. He got his pjs and socks from the drawers and put he them on. I sat on his bed, while he picked the three books or stories that we would read.

I taught him the prayer I had taught his Daddy and his aunts when they were his age. We prayed for “ Mommy, Daddy, Gram and Grampa , Mimi, Auntie C. , Avery and Owen.”

Some nights he wanted songs. I taught him the songs I had learned in kindergarten: “He’s got the whole world in His hands”; “This little light of mine”;  “Jesus loves me.”

Last April 15^th was his last day living under my roof.

We  had an Owen Play Day.  I kept him home from preschool.

      He chose our itinerary and our agenda. We went to the mall so he could ride the moving plane, and car, and animals.

When he  had come to us at age 2 and a half, he liked seeing the cars and helicopter. He liked SITTING in them or on them. But-- he did not want them to MOVE.

On Owen Play ,Day he rode until all the coins were gone. He remined we could get more coins-- if I had CASH.

“Do you have cash, Gram?”

“We have spent all our cash, Owen.”

We read books, sang songs and finally he – “I don’t need a nap, Gram,”-- sat in my lap, in the big blue chair, and fell asleep. I took a picture of that, too.

It has been a year now that Owen has been a New Yorker. Just before the Coronavirus shutdown, I visited him.

As we were saying prayers, he stopped me. “Wait, Gram, wait.” He had more people to pray for :” Miss Donahue, Mr. ___ , Emilia, and AJ”.

He had chosen the story of Sampson. He wanted me to read it twice. Then, he made the sign of the cross, put his palms together in front of his heart, and  he prayed:

“ God, please make me as strong as earth. Amen.”

“Do  you think He will do that, Gram?”

“Absolutely, Owen.”

Oh, the Mother’s Day Tradition? Reading, savoring, remembering my Mother’s Day cards. To keep it going, I put my card collection on the photograph table, just as I do when cards for other occasions arrive. I keep them on display for a while.

I reason, we put up Christmas decorations year after year, don’t we? Well, I am admiring my crop of Mother’s Day cards, past and present.

Happy Mother’s Day.