The distant sound of whirring and the foot pedal up and down on the floor. The sliding sound of scissors on the table as pieces of fabric were cut to embellish our bodies. These were the fabrics that wove our life together. My mom would sit at her sewing machine sewing all the clothing of my younger years. Rarely using a store bought pattern, she’d piece together her homemade newspaper patterns. With three girls, two boys and two foster children there was always a need for new clothing.  My mom worked tirelessly for hours and hours piecing and sewing one outfit, usually dresses, after another.  She stitched by hand the hems of all the dresses, the pant legs of my brothers clothing and many military patches on my dads Marine Corp fatigues. When my sisters and I were majorettes mom and her friend got together and made all the girls uniforms complete with fancy sequins and satin shirts to wear with them.

Many years later when I had my first daughter mom made Jennifer her first dress and bonnet to wear home from the hospital, it was yellow floral and stitched entirely by hand. Mom made my youngest daughter’s first dress too and even made the layette, bedroom curtains, a sheet set and bumper pads for Kelsey’s crib.

My mom sewed through two generations of doll clothes for my sisters and I when we would lose our dolls clothes or they would just get torn from playing with them so much.  My mom sewed my daughters doll clothes as well.  Mom sewed all four of my bridesmaid dresses when I got married in a little under three weeks time.  It seemed as though she could just whip out anything that was ever needed as long as she had a needle and thread.     I remember always having trouble learning Math in school but mom helped me with that too.  I learned about measurements and fractions from my mom and her sewing techniques. I learned how to fit pieces that seemed impossible and make my own skirts and dresses. I sew myself now and even my youngest likes to sew with me on occasion. The days of sewing and watching mom are gone now but the memories will be forever embedded in my mind.

I’d have to say that what I remember most about mom’s sewing were the sounds that filled the rooms when she sewed. She usually had 6 to 8 straight pens stuck just on the edge of her lips as she pulled them out of the fabric one by one. Sweet sounds of her humming was often heard, though sometimes buried under the whirring sound of the machine.  They were usually old gospel hymns, “Sweet Hour of Prayer”, “The Old Rugged Cross”, “In the Garden” or her all-time favorite, “Where Could I Go.” I loved being with my mom. The way she moved around our home working swiftly and steadily from one task to another. It wasn’t the modern day work or the “Proverbs 31  thing to do, it was just my mom taking care of her family. The greatest title ever bestowed upon her.

©Nancy King, December 2008.

I’m not a doctor or nurse so I’m writing strictly from my own experiences. A few things I    have noticed about being menopausal:

~Anxiety can be worse than your worst nightmare! There’s such a fine line in the feelings involved in that and the symptoms of a heart attack.
~Energy seems non-existent at times.
~Sleep, what’s that?
~Hot flashes — my sisters have them but I’ve never experienced that.
~I have had night sweats one time and I thought someone stuck hot coals in my bed one second and ice cubes the next! It’s not a feeling I ever want to have again. This was also the first clue I had that I was going into this phase of my life.

I can’t really complain about any of these things but I do admit that the anxiety has been the worst thing for me and with my lack of self-confidence at times, it can really do a number on me. I’ve been told that being me would suck, and it does at times…isn’t it that way for us all at times whether we’re menopausal or not? I love who I am, the woman God has brought me into, but I have feelings of hatred for how I react to things, situations, etc.

I am looking forward to the next phase of my life, if God so chooses for me to have a next one, I’m pretty excited about turning 50 in another year and a half. I want to start my own charter for the Red Hat Society…simply because I love hats! Who knows maybe one of these days I’ll even have a pretty hat and go to Derby day instead of wishing to be there and watching all the events on tv.

Fifty will be a good age to be; my youngest daughter will be finishing high school, my oldest daughter will be 30 and her oldest daughter will be 10…we’ll all be reaching milestones in our lives at the same time and that will be grand! Even though it’s been a very rough morning for me today I look forward to the future and know that all will not be lost because in knowing there’s wisdom and that keeps me hopeful. One more thing…resist the urge to give me advice on taking hormones…thank you but I won’t do it.   I pray you all have a wonderful day.

Dear Friends,

I would like to take a moment this morning to invite you and your children to participate in a very special event that is going on this week – something your family is just going to love to be a part of!

Many of you are familiar with our company publishing company Remembrance Press, home of the The Gift of Family Writing and The Girlhood Home Companion. This summer we began a new chapter in our lives with the founding of Hopeful Farm, a non-profit organization based in Kentucky that ministers to families impacted by special needs.

The vision for Hopeful Farm was planted in our hearts ten years ago, after the birth and death of their fourth child, Nicholas, who was born with a genetic syndrome. Now, Hopeful Farm is finally becoming a reality.

The mission of Hopeful Farm is truly unique and much needed as it seeks to provide an all-access environment in which families impacted by special needs may find time to focus on each other, build relationships, and gain refreshment and renewal in an escape from the exhausting grind of everyday life.

This is the first time Hopeful Farm has held a benefit of this magnitude, and you will not believe the resources that are being donated as a thank you for your participation. If you have been wanting some of my writing or drawing products to enrich your home school curriculum, not to mention our resources for mothers and daughters, this is something you have to see! www.hopefulfarmfoundation.org/benefit.htm

Not only that, but my publishing friends have donated some incredible resources as well, as a way to bless you for becoming involved in this very important work. Your family can have a direct impact on families with children with special needs – and in return, your own family will receive a blessing from all of the wonderful companies that have offered their products in support of Hopeful Farm.

If you would like to hear what Hopeful Farm is all about, you can access an online interview by Cindy Rushton with my daughter Claire and I at www.hopefulfarmfoundation.org/interview.html

This benefit will run for one week only until Thursday, October 30th, so take a look now…and please tell a friend or three or four about it!

Thank you and God bless,
Jill Novak
www.remembrancepress.com

~75 Years Ago Today~

A young baby boy was brought into this earth. He was born in Greenville, South Carolina on September 27, 1932 to the parents of Homer and Bessie King. I would guess he lived a pretty normal life that everyone else in the time of the Depression did, with the exception that his father died while working on a truck. It fell onto his chest when the boy was only 4 years old. He never grew to know his father, at least not his earthly father. He was the middle child of three sons. When he was 16 he fell in love for the first and only time in his life with a pretty young girl who attended the same church that he did. They didn’t run off and get married or anything crazy, instead it was 5 years later when they did. When he was 17 years old he joined the military, the Marines to be more exact. The boy I’m writing about is my father, Marion Wilson King. After boot camp he and my mother, Viola Poole, married and had three daughters. I, Nancy, am the middle child just as my father was.

My father was the greatest man alive as far as I’m concerned. He spent many years traveling the Marine Corps and fought in the Korean Conflict from the years 1952-1958. I can’t really say how much fighting he did but he was there for 5 years. I know that he worked as a medic on the helicopters that brought in the wounded and others. He was shot in the back, literally, and had to wear a full back brace, so that probably kept him off the front lines, for which I am eternally grateful! He retired from the Marines after 22 active years of service in 1972 and then remained on inactive duty (meaning he could be called back to serve at any given moment) for another 8 years. All those 30 years my father served his country and dedicated his life to being of service to these United States. My dad also served as a volunteer fireman as part of the military duty that he was required to fulfill. Our family was required to move, as all families are, whenever duty calls for it. My dad moved us between North and South Carolina many times, probably more than I can ever remember. I know I went to at least 12 different schools while growing up. My education was always important to my parents but back in the 70′s it wasn’t all about politics and CATS testing. I went to military schools on some occasions and it was definitely more strict than ordinary public school was.

Before retiring from the Marines my dad worked at a factory making tools for cars as well as his job on the base. He would work from 6am until 2pm and then from 3pm until 11pm. We lived on the coast of SC at that time and we would always wait for daddy to come home from work because he wanted for us all to go swimming as a family at midnight. I know where I get my spontaneity from for sure.

Soon after his retirement my dad felt that he was being called to Minister a church, so we moved to the Upstate Area of SC so he could go to college and do Bible Studies. He went to school in Hendersonville, NC at Fruitland Baptist Bible College and worked as a Pastor at a few small churches during his time at college. I remember hearing my mom and dad in the kitchen as early as 4am for him to get his breakfast and lunch for the day and then he would catch a ride with other Pastors-to-be a few miles from where we lived. Those four men traveled for 4-6 hours a day through rough mountain terrain to get back and forth to school for three years so they could better teach their congregations. My dad graduated from college in 1979 and I graduated from High School the same year! My dad was always my inspiration for going to college. I always wanted to learn more and more and study and read like he did. Later that year my dad was called to be Associate Pastor at a church in Covington, KY (Southside Baptist) and he stayed there for about a year until he left to be a full-time Pastor at another church just a few miles down the road, or a few towns away. He was there until his passing in 1982 and loved doing God’s work.

I wasn’t always close to my dad because he was gone a lot serving his country with the military, the fire departments, and the ministry. I think I was starting to understand who he was and what he stood for when I was 19. I loved my dad very much; he was the biggest, the best and the second most important person to me in my life, my mom was first. I can remember being 9 months pregnant at the age of 22 and sitting on my daddy’s lap. He always told everyone that he held his grandchild for the first time on that day! Four months after my daughter Jennifer was born my dad passed on to be with God. He loved her so much and on the day he died my mom told me that he was passing her newborn picture around and showing it to everyone. He was a very proud grandpa and would still be today with both of his granddaughters and great grandchildren.

Below are some pictures of my dad when he was in Korea, they’re the only ones that I have of him at all.  In a few of them he was receiving awards including several purple heart awards and he had tons of Rifleman Expert awards that we played with when I was little.  He didn’t mind at all.  Notice the one where he is wearing a full back cast and shaving a patient.  It’s my favorite because it shows his compassion for others!  In the first picture from left to right he is standing alone, then in the middle receiving an award and the same picture is next with a turn of his head, then the back cast one and one with a fellow soldier and the last picture he is the second from the end (wearing the darkest uniform).  Speaking of uniforms, I always loved to iron my dad’s military uniforms; something about the smell of starch and the crispness of the clothing.  I still love ironing to this day!  My dad would be 75 today and died at a young age of 49, which I’m not far from now.  It’s hard to believe he’s been gone for so many years.  I do miss him,  just like it was yesterday that I last saw him.

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