it endures

in young age,
he would lead,
she would follow close behind.
she would lean against his firm shoulder,
feeling secure underneath his sure stature.
he would take care of all duties non-domestic;
she would flawlessly cover the domestic ones.
he would strongly make the major decisions for the family,
always backed by her encouraging words,
and filled with plenty of her input, of course.
he was the leader of dinner conversations,
adding in witty and charming comments and making her laugh adoringly.
he took care of her-
she was safe in his arms.

in older age,
she leads,
holding out her hand for him to follow behind.
she masterfully handles all household duties
and makes all decisions-
without a complaint.
she leads all dinner discussions,
carefully repeating important comments to his silent ear.
she takes care of him-
he is safe in her arms...

and although she is now his caretaker,
she still leans against his sure shoulder;
he still grabs her hand with love.
he still makes charming comments,
and she still laughs adoringly.
a proud love still shines in her eyes...

because she'll always be safe in his arms.

Family Table

Remember my Family Table posts? Well here is one dedicated to my sweet grandmother.

she's the bedtime enforcer. the piano teacher. the Bible verse reciter. the storyteller to multiple grandchildren snuggled in her bed. the nap lover. on any given winter night, you can find her snoozing in her fireside rocking chair next to my grandfather who will most likely be watching the news or a basketball game. the best pimento cheese maker. the spoiler of my grandfather. she's a self proclaimed cheerleader for all of her grandchildren and children, but most of all, her husband. the compulsive picker-upper of all things out of order. the die-hard recycler and re user. the woman who can still be freezing cold sitting next to a furnace. the nightly Mentholatum applier under her nose and on her lips. the hater of dry skin, especially when it comes to her piano playing hands. Sara Lee Coffee Cake's most loyal customer. the fashionista. the hummer of old southern hymns. the owner of a bedroom slipper filled closet... many worn by her granddaughters when she "can't stand to look at those bare, cold feet anymore." the caller of "lamb chop" to all those she loves. the leaver of red lipstick stains on her cocktail glasses full of grapefruit juice. the baby lover. she's the harmonizer of every song ever sung... even "Happy Birthday." the preparer of her world famous breakfast casserole, always present on Christmas morning. the adorer of smocked dresses and big bows for all her youngest granddaughters. the biggest reason Christmas is always so special in our family. the cancer survivor, carrying on each day with inspiring strength.

my grandmother is... my hero.

those people at the table (#1)

at the head sits my grandfather, the farmer. the chocolate milkshake maker. the spoiler. the one whose snores make you smile in the middle of the night while snug between him and my grandmother. the one with the dirty jeans. the one with the worn-out, big, comfy chair in the living room. the one who makes the big batch of peaches 'n milk that's out on the counter every summer morning before he leaves for his early morning cattle duties. the one who can tell a joke over and over, and it gets funnier every time. the elvis presley junkie. the truck driver. the TV King (I am known as the TV Queen). the one who says "how's my firstborn?" every time he sees me. the sweet tea addict. the die-hard Republican. the basketball/tennis coach. the one who has taught most of his grandchildren how to properly dive into the swimming pool- no matter how long it took (he once stood by the side of our neighborhood pool with me for hours until my dive put Michael Phelps to shame.) the one who runs the entire beach every day when we take our family vacation...(yes this is my grandfather we are talking about). my encourager. the one with the most comfortable lap in the world. the old-fashioned Southern boy. the lover of my sweet grandmother. the one who has always caught me since toddler years with strong arms as I run and jump in his arms, and still does.

This is my Big Daddy. Not only is he the head of the table, he is the head of our family.


(for the next few posts, I will be telling you about each of these amazing people at the table- my family. I hope you begin to love 'em as much as I do.)