Ah, Romance

February 15, 2009 at 3:52 am 4 comments

Valentines, Schmalentines. 

That’s my attitude today. 

I love my husband. I’m grateful that I have him. I’ll never blog about the hard parts of my relationship with him, because that’s none of your business. And because he reads this and would get mad at me. 

Probably more because of the mad thing. 

Today, I have felt awful, but not sick. Just really weak and sleepy. I have wanted to do nothing but lie down. I actually did lie down for an hour after I took a shower, because it wore me out! I don’t know what’s up with that, I just know I miss my energy. 

We made no plans for today or tonight, so we spent the day with the kids. Michael got the kids their V’day treats, which were a hit. I got a pretty pot of tulips. Michael got a Chronological Study Bible (go me!). 

I made lots of attempts to clean the house, but it didn’t work. So we got dressed and went to the mall. Michael couldn’t find what he was looking for, so we went to the outside mall, Renaissance. We ate at Sweet Peppers (Molly devoured my chips and rotel) and then he took the kids to Barnes and Noble while I perused the girly stores. I went in Pink Bombshell. There were some gorgeous clothes in there, but they all reminded me that I’m over 30 and have had 3 kids. 

In an attempt to console myself, I went in Anthropologie, where I was reminded that I really don’t sell as much Pampered Chef as I need to to go in that store. 

Then, with about 15 minutes left to myself, I went in Ann Taylor Loft, hoping to pick up the pieces of my broken self-esteem. I tried on some jeans that actually fit and were kind of cute, and a dress that the salesgirl told me looked great on me. I was standing in front of the mirror, and raised my arms in a celebratory manner and said, “Yay!” and when I did, I realized that the dress went WAAAAYYY up my legs and all of a sudden there was just too much information. 

So I didn’t buy anything. 

But while I was in ATLoft, I got so tickled. There was a man, middle aged, in there with his preteen daughters and wife. I think the wife was trying clothes on. The song playing in the store was “The Hustle” and he knew all the words. His daughters were laughing at him, and he was saying the words before the guy sang them. I’m sure he was embarrassed when he saw me laughing at him, because he walked away quickly, but that was so very funny. 

So that was today. Personally, I’m glad it’s over. 

Tomorrow, after church, I’m going to a reception for my grandmother. She is being honored for her years and years of service to her church’s WMU program. She goes to the church I grew up in, and it will be wonderful to go back there to celebrate her. 

Here’s the kicker for me, though. She’s sick. For the past 3 years, she’s been dealing with a type of lymphoma on her skin. She itches constantly. She’s been through tons of radiation, lost her hair, been so weak, taken every medicine in the world, and she’s not better. Around Christmas, she developed a knot in her groin area. This past Wednesday, she had it removed. The doctor told her it was Lymphoma, that the tumor was malignant. She’s going next week for a PET scan to see if there are any others. Then she’ll have to decide on treatment options. 

I’m so thankful, and I know she is too, that she hasn’t had these kinds of problems until the past few years. She’s in her 80’s and has always been very productive. She knows everybody and everything. She has always been one of the smartest people I’ve ever known. She is the one always in charge, because nobody else can do it quite like she can. Someone told me this week, “I remember your grandmother being sick as a dog, but up at the church getting a GA program ready! She has such a big heart!” My response was, “She does have a wonderful heart, but she also probably wanted to make sure the program was done correctly!” 

She checked on me every time I had a test. She wanted to make sure I did well. She asks about my friends to this day. She wants to know who is married to whom and what kids have been born. She makes chicken and rice soup when somebody gets a cold. She called me “cats britches” all my life. If I would tell her that I saw someone that she knew, she would ask me, “did you tell them who you are?” This always made me laugh, because I figured nobody really cared who I am or who I belong to. But as I’ve grown older, I realize that there are many, many people who love my mamaw. They would want to know I’m hers. She taught english for more years than I can imagine, and most of South Jackson had her as a teacher at one time. 

She’s a beautiful, precious woman. I love her so very much. I’ve had a hard time figuring out how to deal with her health issues. I know I should be sad, because I know she won’t be with us forever. But I also rejoice at all she’s done and all the lives she has touched and that makes me proud. 

I can write long, poignant posts about most of the special people in my life. My husband, my dad, my kids, my brother or my friends. But the women who have influenced me the most, my mama and my mamaw…those are hard. Probably because it’s hard to put into words how I feel when what I feel is just the desire to be like them. I feel like these few paragraphs about my mamaw are just scratching the surface to what’s really in my heart. 

I am proud to be her granddaughter. I hope she is proud that I am. I have spent a lot of years looking for her approval. I feel like a small child saying this, but I am over the moon when she compliments me or my kids. This is probably not a healthy attitude to have, and I know that her approval is not what I should be searching for. But for some reason, if she likes something I do, or how I look, or something my children do, it means a lot to me. 

So if today is a day for love, then I’m declaring mine for my sweet Mamaw Lucy. I miss going with her and my cousins in the Lincoln to pick up a big bag of Krystal burgers. I miss her taking us to the Mets games. I miss her watching us sing and dance in her living room. I DON’T miss her saying things in front of my dates like, “your skin is really clearing right up, Anne!” 

But that’s okay. It was her way of saying my skin looked pretty, but she just used different words than I would have used. 

That’s what I tell myself, anyway.

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Entry filed under: Uncategorized.

Remembering All This Keeps Me Humble It’s Either This, Or Cut My Hair.

4 Comments Add your own

  • 1. Steve Wilson  |  February 15, 2009 at 4:33 am

    You are blessed by a godly heritage. I know you realize that, but the longer I live the more I realize how rare that is today. When one grows up in it, it comes naturally to think that this is normal. Then as we get older, we realize everyone does not have a home like mine. Then as we get even older and meet more people then we begin to realize how special our family is compared to others. Your family rates pretty high on the great, but not perfect scale. You are passing things on to your children. You are not perfect. Some days are blah, but not every day. Some days SING!!! At least your blah days are the exception and not the rule. It seems you turned a blah day into a pretty good day for your family. And Romance shows up more than one day a year at your house. You are blessed. You are loved by an Infinite God that desires to reveal a part of Himself to you each day. Praise Him!

    Reply
  • 2. Steve Wilson  |  February 15, 2009 at 4:34 am

    P.S. I love your grandmother, too. I’m one of the ones she touched.

    Reply
  • 3. Michael "The Husband" Albritton  |  February 15, 2009 at 4:50 am

    Just for the record, the tulip was my way of buying time until the mail ordered gift arrives.

    Reply
  • 4. Abbey "s.s student"  |  February 16, 2009 at 3:27 am

    Hey Mrs. Ann!!!! I love all your pictures!!!!! I am so glad that I don’t have to go to school tomorrow!!!! I prayed for you today!!!!! you sang so… good in church!!!!!so….. i will talk to you later!!!!

    Reply

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