"Tic-Toc..."

Tic-toc
goes the clock:
Tic, tic, tic, tic, tic, tic, toc.
Tic-toc
goes the clock:
tic, tic, tic, tic, toc.

Rock to the clock,
- as the clock
tic, tic, tic, tic, tic,
Tic-tocs.
Tic-toc,
Tic, tic, toc.
Tic-toc goes the clock.

Just a little rhyme I chant to my grandbaby:  over and over, and over.  She loves it, and of course, so do I.  She stares into space, the one up at the ceiling, and whatever she sees captivates her attention.  I stare at her, the little one in my arms, and what I see captivates me. 

Tic-toc
tic, tic, toc.
Tic-toc
goes... the....... clock.

Family clock, 5th generation

@Copyright 2010, Cindy Lou Hodges All Rights Reserved.

And She Was Born, Chapter 3

Chapter Three - "Be Still, My Heart"

With "baby's heart beat dangerously low .. dangerously low" running through my head, I desperately prayed for the safety of my loved ones.  Our baby was in danger!  My daughter-in-law, too, and my assignments were plain:  find her parents and pray!

"Run, run!"  I hurried up and down the winding hallways until I found them, and it was a mutual joy to see each other at last.   Hugs, words, and hand motions filled the empty air as anticipation and worry hung all around us.  We mothers talked back & forth as women naturally do, while the maternal grandfather translated Vietnamese words into English, and English words into Vietnamese.  Tears and facial expressions were totally  understood, and sighs of angst needed no explanation.  We were there for our kids, and we were there for each other.  No translator was necessary to express the clash of joy and fear we all felt. That was a given.

We talked, translated, "hand gestured", laughed, cried, sat still, paced the floor, prayed, sighed... then repeated it all over again and again until... at long last, at 1:30 a.m. December 2, 2010...  the closed hospital room door burst open!  In came a caravan of feet:  all covered with blue booties.  Heads and faces wore the disposable caps and masks, and arms of blue pushed the hospital bed back into place.  I tried my best to find my son in the parade of scrubs, but my eyes were fixed on the beautiful vision that lay before me on a cloud of white.

Never had I seen my daughter-in-law look lovelier.  A sense of calm and peace surrounded her giving no hint to the trauma her body had just experienced.  She glowed with beauty and grace as she lovingly cradled her new born child.  Never had I seen so clearly through tear-soaked eyes.  And, of course, never had I seen my very own grandchild.  But, there she was... finally... she was born!  She was here. And she was exquisite!!!  Tiny at 5 pounds, 15.5 ounces, her little lungs worked on their own, and her steady little heart had already melted all the big hearts in that room.

As I tried to memorize the moment, my eyes lifted and amidst all the patches of blue masks, I found those eyes I've known and loved for over thirty-three years.  So tender, so puffy, so sweet.  The new daddy, my courageous son, stood proud and strong!  Like a soldier on guard, he commanded the room.  No one could tell that his knees shook.  No one could tell that his heart trembled.  No one knew how close he came to passing out during the emergency C-section. No one, but me his Mama... and, well... the surgical team.

Relief and joy must be side by side on the emotional scale, because when there is doubt that joy will occur, and it finally does... the joy is magnificient!  It explodes upon arrival!  And, I'd say that the emotional Richter scale in that hospital wing was so high it reached clear into heaven. I felt that heaven and earth connected, once again the very same night, and the proof was our little baby girl, Evelien Claire Hodges.  As I touched my cheek to her soft, warm, tiny face, my soul better understood the miracle that I held.  The lyrics of the song that I had sung just hours earlier came alive as never before:  *"And when you kiss your little baby... you've kissed the face of God..."  What an incredible feeling! 

Just like I said at the beginning of my story, it was a star-studded night.  It was a glorious night, a glorious sight to see my kids shine like the stars!   My children, our children, became what we once became.  And we became what our parents had once become.  The awe of the miracle of life filled my soul, and I will never, never be the same.  I am now Grandmother, yet I am still me.  I don't know how to put the two together, but I will do my darndest to be a good Grandmother.  Friends tell me that it comes naturally.  But, I don't know.  I've never been a grandmother, and I am walking into the realms of the unknown.  It's times like this that it would be nice to have a friend, a girlfriend.  Someone to talk to and someone to hold my hand and tell me "do this... go this way... go that way, say this, be smart... don't say that".  You know, a buddy... we all need one, especially me.

So, I will be calling upon my mother, "Nanny", who offers wisdom and love:  my cherished friend so dear to my heart who fought tenaciously for over a year to still be alive, and who now says it was all worth it just to see our new little life.  I will also call upon my friends, and I will gladly welcome their advice, which they freely will offer.  But, you know... there is someone else... someone to walk with me me... someone else to hold my hand.  Oh, joy... be still my heart... rejoice my soul!  The hand I hold is so tiny.  It's so soft, and it is so beautiful.  It's a girl!  And her name is... Baby Evelien!!!

Halleluja!  Hosannas!  And hugs!  Here I go into this new phase of my life, holding hands with my established friends and with my new little friend, and wondering,  "at what point will the grown up act more like the child?"  Hmmmmmm..... I think that's already happened.  Yes, I have turned into a silly old Grandma, one with rhinestone bling!

Guess you better, "Look out world!"   Here I come with my marching orders and my Grandma boots on.  Dolls and dishes, are packed in my back pack, and lots of pink fluffly things are in my purse.  Tissues & wet wipes, diapers & bibs, phone numbers, and a direct line to heaven that's available all the time:  they're all a part of my entourage, and it feels so good!  I am blessed to be a Grandma, blessed to have been a part of this thrilling adventure, and I am so blessed to be at this stage of my life.

Guess you can call me "Blessed among women".  Or you can call me Cindy.  You can call me Cindy Lou, or you can call me Grammy.  But, as they say... just don't call me when I'm babysitting.  I'll be too busy to answer! 

Sincerely,
Me, still me, whoever that is.


Evelien & Grammy, first embrace...

p.s. #1  Remember the pink cakes from Chapter One?  Well, the extra pink cake was the perfect way to celebrate the arrival of our baby girl!  We all enjoyed the pink, fluffly, strawberry cake decorated with all the foofoo on top.  It was Evelien's very first birthday cake!  Who would have thought she would come so early?  Isn't it amazing that I made an extra cake?  Isn't it great that I made pink cakes?  Ahhhh... sweet times! 

p.s. #2  You may wonder where my husband was during this memorable night.  Well, he was in Oklahoma with my mother, caring for her.  What a great guy!  I kept him and "Nanny" informed all evening via text messages and phone calls.  He loaded up all of Nanny's things the very next morning, and with a fully-packed van, they hurried down to Texas to meet our new baby girl.  Ahhhh... the family was all together!  Sweet, sweet times, indeed!


p.s. #3  Thank you, God!  Thank you.



*"Mary, Did You Know?"... song lyrics by Gary Lowry

@Copyright 2010, Cindy Lou Hodges All Rights Reserved.

And She Was Born, Chapter 2

Chapter Two - "The 2nd Floor"

Unbeknown to me, my daughter-in-law had been in labor all day, but went to work anyway, not knowing that it was "the real thing"!  My son played an hour-long game of volleyball that evening, while "Mommie" stayed home and packed her suitcase between contractions.  By 9:00 p.m. they decided that maybe they should go to the hospital, "this just might be serious".  Do ya, think???

Hence, the text message sent to me, "We at hospital.  She may be early...!"

I think I was kind of noisy:  "Errr---Screech!  Slam!  High-heeled clomp-clomps!"  I ran to the ER desk, and some gracious woman led me through the hall ways to the elevator that would take me to the maternity wing.  I was on the ride of my life, and as the elevator doors closed I said goodbye to my life as it had been, and with their opening I said hello to my greatest adventure ever.  The profound words of a budding new grandmother then blurted out from me as I viewed the 2nd floor, "sheez... now, uh, which way did she say to go???"

When I found my brave kids, it was quite obvious to me that they weren't kids anymore, and that I was no longer a young adult.  We were all stepping up to a new level and a higher status in our adult lives, and this new little life coming to join us would challenge us all to rise to the calling.  I saw my son hovering over his lovely wife, tenderly talking to her, and calmly reading the numbers on the monitor.  I saw my daughter-in-law quietly endure the contractions, then mildly say, "that was a big one."  I heard the nurse announce,  "this baby is coming tonight, probably before midnight!"  And off they rolled them to the birthing room.

At that point the situation escalated so rapidly that my head still spins.  I stepped out of the birthing room while the epidural was given and waited in the waiting area. I understand that within minutes the epidural took effect and eased Mommie's pain, but our baby girl's heartbeat dropped rapidly.  I waited and waited for what seemed eternities far too long.  Then I received an alarming text, "Heartbeat low.  csection.  rite now."  "Her parents around somewhere.  please try find." 

(to be continued...)



@Copyright 2010, Cindy Lou Hodges All Rights Reserved.

And She Was Born, Chapter 1

Five years ago... Happy Birthday, Evelien Claire Hodges!

Grammy's & Evelien's First Embrace

This story has taken a long time to put in text, and I can't explain why it's been such a challenge for me to document, other than I feel that my words are totally inadequate to express the wonderment and joy of the unfolding events.  I finally decided that someday, maybe I'll get to tell you in person, and that the joy on my face will tell it all.  I would love to tell you face to face and can't wait until that happens.  But, in the meantime... this written story will have to do.

There will be more than one chapter to my story.  How many?  I don't know yet.  That's to be determined.  But, I decided that I must get busy, for new adventures are happening everyday, and I'm already behind on sharing them.  So, here I go, as best I can, telling this story that is so near & dear to my heart.

Chapter One - Grammy's Night Out

There were over forty of us entertaining together that night, and we ladies of the Performing Arts Department beamed with pride that we "mature women" had managed to attract a "full house".  Tickets had sold out, hours of rehearsals were behind us, and our new black outfits with rhinestone bling defined our newly elevated status as "bonafied performers".  December 2, 2010 definitely was a star studded night, and we were a part of the glimmer and shine, and I... I was about to begin my long awaited, long hoped for, long dreamed of role as "Grand Mamah", or as we say here in Texas... "Grandma"!

Now, you're gonna' have to give this ol' girl some leeway here.  'Cause you see, I'm gonna' tell you this story as it happened, and I'm gonna' enjoy telling it.  So, you just need to sit back and relax and let this new Grandma "splut" a little...

Desserts & coffee were the planned menu.  Most of us ladies baked our favorite, prize winning recipes.  We wanted our guests to feast with their eyes as well as with their taste buds, so, I did my part.  I baked my famous strawberry cake.  Actually, I baked two of them.  Why not, since I was dirtying up the kitchen, anyway?  Well, my cake, uh-hum, cakes had a hard time in the oven, and the layers baked terribly unlevel.  Guess my house had shifted a little on its foundation, or I had the shelves in kind of crooked.  Still don't know what happened. 

So, to improve my dilemma by giving me extra icing with which to work, I improvised and tried adding marshmallow creme to the frosting.  What a great idea, huh?  It would make the cake extra gooey and rich, and everyone would wonder what the magical ingredient could be.  All would be clamoring for my recipe, and I would be the talk of the Women's Club.  Why, I would become famous, all because of a pink, fluffy, melt-in-your mouth mystery known as marshmallow creme frosting. You got it...  I added more!

Famous, indeed.   My pink strawberry cake turned out to be one of the biggest flops from my kitchen, ever!  It was a "lop-sided", "sticky icing oozing out", "layers stuck together", "pink" kind of mud pie.  A three-year old could have done better than this.  It definitely had a difficult life:  so did I right about then.  But, I salvaged the best looking one of the two cakes and provided toppings of whipped cream, strawberry glaze, fresh strawberries, and mint leaves to garnish and cover up the blob of cake beneath.  This was one of the most expensive cakes I'd ever put together:  money, yes... time, astronomical... worry, unbelievable!  The kitchen crew saved it for last, if that tells you anything about its appearance.  At least I tried... really, really tried, and I'm happy to say that the musical performance that followed out shined my cake, and that's a good thing!

Our ladies sang the wonderful Christmas songs we all love, as well as romantic standards from the 40's, while I played the keyboard and directed them from out front.  As musical director I felt a sense of pride, and our drama director smiled approvingly.  Our ladies had worked hard to memorize their music and to learn the art of singing as a choir, and all the hard work had finally turned an "almost good" choir into an "outstanding" choir.  Yes, the PAD ladies were great!  The audience responded enthusiastically to each of our songs; clapping and laughing and the holiday spirit glowed on each and every face.  Even when Santa's visit stole the show, we carried on our musical number as if his upstaging us had been the planned agenda.  It was fun to see Santa!  It was fun to sing and laugh!  Yes, it was a magical evening, for sure.

As our program segued to the sacred portion of the evening, a wonderful hush fell over the room.  The Christmas story from Luke was read while I softly played "O Holy Night" behind the narration.  The true meaning of Christmas was being revealed:  the reason for our joy, and I sensed a feeling of wonderment as I began to sing, *"Mary, Did You Know?"

Accompanying myself on the keyboard, I stood before the audience as the words flowed, "Mary, did you know your baby boy has walked where angels trod?... and when you kiss your little baby, you've kissed the face of God... Mary, did you know?".

When finished singing, I felt like God had been in that very room, and that He was still there with us.  A holy hush hung in the air, and I felt  totally surrounded by peace and calm and stillness.  Even the candles' flickers seemed to stop in motion while no one coughed, no one chinked their water glass, and no one whispered a word.

Some moments are just too intimate to talk about, and some moments are just indescribable because words are mere echoes of the emotional well within.  Then there are those moments that are to be pondered and dwelled on and thought about.  So it was with these.  Here it is almost six weeks later, and I'm still lingering there in my mind and still in awe that I was right in the middle of something very, very special.

The program soon ended, and I'd say that most were blessed by our gathering together, and that everyone enjoyed the evening.  We had a grand time.  We ladies in our new black outfits nodded approvingly to each other as we kicked off our shoes and  hugged and congratulated ourselves.  After all, we had put long, hard hours into this one performance.  Time and effort had paid off.  Funds were raised for scholarships, friends & families enjoyed the evening, and friendships grew even stronger.  After cleaning up... it was finally time to say good night and to leave the festivities behind.  So on Thursday evening, December 2, 2010, at 9:45 p.m. I gathered my musical notebook, tote bag, purse, the sticky cake carrier thing, and rhinestone earrings in hand.  It was time to go home and call it a day, or a night... or so I thought.

Driving away from the building, I turned on my cell phone to check any missed calls or messages.   The new text message from my son read:  "We at hospital.  She may be early..."!

"Oh, my gosh!  She's not due until three weeks from now.  Oh, my gosh, my gosh, gosh, gosh...!"  With suddened teary eyes  and with trembling limbs, I boldly executed a cock-eyed, wild-ride, illegal U-turn... right there in the middle of the street, in the middle of the city, right there in the middle of the big old state of Texas!  This Granny-to-Be was on her way to the hospital... rhinestones, pink sticky icing on her clothes, and all.  As I floor boarded it, I kept chanting  loud and clear, clear across Texas... "I'm comin' kids... I'm comin'...!  Hold on, Grammy's coming...!"

(to be continued...)

p.s.  Never, ever add Marshmallow creme to your regular powdered sugar frosting!  Big mistake!!!

Repaired cake.  Yes... those are straws sticking out of it!  Sigh...

Salvaged cake... Pink Strawberry Cake ready to be served!  Viola'...
Strawberry Cake Recipe: http://yoohoocindylou.blogspot.com/p/food.html


@Copyright 2010, Cindy Lou Hodges All Rights Reserved.

*"Mary, Did You Know" song lyrics by Mark Lowry

The Daydream

I was so involved with my daydream that I missed my mouth with my coffee cup.  Surprising?  Not at all.

The imagery was spectacular, and the band was in the grove, uh groove.  There I stood with the microphone, not one ounce of fear piercing through my body.  All eyes were glued to this magical moment:  all ears tuned to the soft nuances that would soon flow from my soul.  No one knew this was the moment I had longed for.  No one knew the expense of this adventure.  No one knew.  No one cared.  No one, but I.

Spotlight intact.  Curtain up.  Applause filled the air with the echo of triumph.  Taking in one last breath, I opened my mouth to sing, and right there, in the middle of my daydream... was the sound of fire alarms and clanging bells!  Uh... no:  it was the telephone.  The audacious, stupid phone was screeching right in the middle of my once in a lifetime "moment".

So, there went the coffee all down my shirt.  There went the daydream:  there went the diva.  I felt like Ralphie, the little kid in the movie, The Christmas Story.  Spectacular were his daydreams that spinned with unbridled enthusiasm!  They out shined the grandest of schemes, and in this world of doubt, they kept his fragile, creative spirit alive.  No one knew about his secret scenarios.  No one knew about them at all, and no one cared.  Or, so he thought.

I guess, inside all of us dwells either a diva or a Ralphie, and somewhere along the way we picked up the notion that the child in us should grow up and throw aside our childish ways replacing them with grown-up thoughts and grown-up behavior.   (Oh, that's in the Bible.  Isn't it?  It's in I Corinthians 13:11.)  That's what is required of us as responsible adults, but I can see a meltdown coming if the child within is forgotten and never released to play, to create, or to daydream.

I don't know about you, but I am planning on longevity here in my life.  My long awaited first grandchild will soon be born, and I want to be around to see her coo & giggle, to see her take her first tiny steps, and to see her twist and turn as she masters her first pair of high heel shoes.  I would love to be around for her wedding day as she lovingly takes those solemn steps of marriage.  And when I arrive at those later stages of my life, I don't want to be a dried-up, old prude who doesn't know how to laugh, or sing, play, or daydream.  I want to be young at heart, and laugh at the days ahead... the days present. 

That sounds like quite a challenge, because aging can be terribly cruel.  Injuries and insults assault us, and time marches on without our permission.   As my Aunt Polly used to say, and now my mother says, "Aging ain't for sissies!"  Yes, I have to agree, it isn't.  Neither is daydreaming.  It takes a lot of courage for grown-ups to dream like a child, and even more courage, I think, to admit that we do.

They say that confession is good for the soul, so here you have it:  I confess.   I daydreamed, and it didn't cost me anything other than the time to wash my coffee-stained blouse.  That was just a few, well spent minutes, and I think that little snippet of time added new wonderment to my child-like faith.

What about you?  Have you daydreamed lately?  It isn't painful, and the child in you just might thank you for the freedom.  Dance, sing, build bridges, climb mountain cliffs, paint like Rembrandt, design fashions, write a best-seller novel, discover a cure for cancer, find a forgotten city, go to the zoo, go watch a baseball game, or imagine your flower beds a botanical wonder.  Be creative... there are no limitations when we daydream, and without our permission, no one can take our dreams away from us.

Because they are precious, we must protect our dreams, and we are instructed to guard them continually.  They can be a gift or a burden, so we are to use them wisely.  We should even pray about them, asking God what they should be and asking God to direct our thoughts and take them where He wants us to be.   Can't say that I remembered to do that before my "diva dream", but I should have.  For I have found that heavenly daydreams are the sweetest of all and the longest lasting.

Take heart, my friends.  There is hope for all of us!  With my grown up knowledge and my child-like faith, I face the future; and you can face it with me.  We may be fortunate enough to daydream a brighter future, and we may even be fortunate enough to find ourselves basking in the spotlight as we stand in front of cheering crowds.  Or, we may find ourselves flat on our backs facing the frightening sounds of emergency sirens.  No one can accurately predict what awaits us, but I do know that we don't have to face those times alone.  There is Someone who cares.... Someone who knows.  And, I would like to know Him better.

Think I'll grab my Bible, turn off the telephone, and ask God to fill me with His love and even more child-like faith.  It can happen, you know... and that doesn't have to be a daydream!

Blessings to you as you rediscover the child within you.  Guard it.  Protect it.  Nurture it.  And, then, give it a friend by the name of Jesus.

Sincerely,
Cindy Lou



"For as he thinketh in his heart, so is he..."
--Proverbs 23:7  King James Version, Holy Bible

"I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it."
--Luke 18:17, New International Version, Holy Bible

"...there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother."
--Proverbs 18:24, New International Version, Holy Bible



@Copyright 2010, Cindy Lou Hodges
All Rights Reserved

Baby Girl Pink

"Yesterday I dug in the freezer. Today I think I'll dig in the dirt. Seems to me that planting spring bulbs would be a most fitting way to celebrate the new life that's coming to our family in December..."
                                    ---posted on Face Book, October 21, 2010


In my mind I envisioned pink!  Pure, pretty, "pop your eyes out" pink flowers strewn all across my back yard's flower bed.  I wasn't thinking a muddy pink, or a lavender pink, or a peachy pink.  I wanted "sweet baby girl pink", and I wanted lots & lots of them... a wheelbarrow full of blossoms.

The first garden center I visited had two displays of bulbs which included tulips, hyacinths, daffodils and the girliest, frilliest irises I've ever seen.  By golly, that was the flower I wanted, and there was no reason to drive elsewhere to shop;  except that, there was only one package.  And it contained only two bulbs:  so much for my idea of a wheelbarrow full.  I drove to the other garden store, hoping I could find other choices, but, that was a waste of time since they had no flower bulbs at all.  Theirs are shipped in the spring.

Not to be defeated about my idea of planting today, I drove back to that solitary package of two bulbs, and I purchased it.  Took a picture of the cover on the package, so I can remember what it's supposed to look like, then grabbed the garden spade and started digging.  In no time at all, those two scrawny iris bulbs were planted deeply in the warm earth, safe and secure in my back yard. 

Have to say that I feel good about the day.  I got my mission accomplished.  Got lots of mosquito bites, too, but it's all worth the effort because I believe those puny, palm-size bulbs will produce exactly what the picture claims.  When they do and the pink frilly blossoms are a'bloom, my grand baby will be three or four months old.  I will lovingly carry her out to the back flower bed and show her what her Grammy planted in honor of her arrival.  I believe that year after year, these irises will continue to grow in numbers and beauty and continue the cycle of life.  As my grand daughter grows, I shall remind her how much she is loved and how much she was wanted, even before she was born.  Then as she matures, and becomes a young flower herself,  I can use the story of the iris to teach her about love, and the sanctity of marriage, and how with every cycle of life there is a rhyme and a reason for its time and its season.

That's a lot to expect from my plantings today:  those two pitiful looking bulbs.  But, when one has faith, nothing is impossible.... not even a wheelbarrow full of pretty, frilly, "pop your eyes out" pink blossoms!

Here's hoping.  Here's believing.  And here's thanks to all the women who have walked before me... bouquets to you, my lovelies!  And for those of you who are still walking, we might as well walk together, joined arm in arm... in faith.  It's more fun that way, and besides, I'd love some company!

Sincerely looking forward to the future,
Cindy Lou

p.s.  I'm thinking pink!

"Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful.  And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds.  Let us not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but let us encourage one another... and all the more as you see the Day approaching."
          --Hebrews 10:23-25 Holy Bible, New International Version



@Copyright 2010, Cindy Lou Hodges
All Rights Reserved.