Saturday, March 21, 2015

Just As I Am



This morning I wake to having Aunt Val resting in the downstairs bedroom, Betty the calico intently watching the birds outside the window and glorious sunshine spilling in the windows. The light changes the whole house with differently hued walls, bouncing off the colored glass vases that hold the tulips for this afternoon's tea party.

I am who I am. Isn't that one of Popeye the Sailor man's quotes?

This morning in my front porch time (spent on the back porch so as not to disturb Aunt Val as the front door with its beautiful ruby red glass groans loudly whenever its put into service!). Anyway, in my "front porch time" I was looking at the tree stump in the yard and not thinking much of anything. When the words from "Just As I Am" drifted into my thoughts.

Of course, the voice I heard singing it was my sister, Dorene. She was one person who could make my squeeky off-pitch voice seem to harmonize whenever we sang together. And this song was one of our favorites to sing together.

Later today 10 of the dearest women in my life will come to my ancient of days house to celebrate my birthday (a day early) and, more importantly, spend time with our dear Aunt Valda whose spirit and fight find her enjoying another spring.

A house with new roofing, new siding and 14 wonderfully warm windows new this winter. While the morning sun bathes the rooms and turns them into colored gems, the reality is that it is an ancient house. Scarred wood floors covered with splashes of rugs, curtains sheer and lacy, the stairway steep and the plaster peeling here and there. To me, this is home sweet home.

When I try to view it through the eyes of others, I see the stray cobweb that my broom couldn't reach on these 12 foot ceilings. Every scratch and scar on the old wood that life has created. Stairs that need a new coat of paint, worn from the trodding up and down of my dear old dad, uncle Vail, brother Jeff -- all exhausted from long days. Leaning on the bannister, taking each step heavily and escaping to a welcomed chair and bed in a room that each of them, for a time, called home.

Stacks of law, mystery, Minnesota small town history and children's books fill the 7 or 8 bookshelves throughout the house. A few, but not all, pictures hang on walls. Just the few i love enough to figure out to hang on the plaster walls or tuck onto dressers or "the buffet". A front room, with the best light, full of bins full of colorful material, eagerly awaiting their turn on my quilt design wall. Several pieces of easily accessible exercise equipment that get me through winter and rainy days when a walk outside is a bit dangerous!

A house that resembles me. Yep, a home that truly is just as I am. Older, scratched and scarred, filled with light that changes me daily and welcoming to all who come to visit or need a safe harbor for a short rest.

All are welcome here.