Some Things Never Change

I've been asked to share some memories of a person who is certainly one of the strongest people I know, as well as one of the most sharing, who takes all that life throws at her and laughs it off. She always has a way of making others feel good, weaving her stories and giving us new slogans to live by. I would give her the shirt off my back if I felt she needed it, and all I possess if she asked.

I think these memories are to take the form of a specific memory, a story.  There are so many it's hard to choose just one. Plus, I am not the best storyteller around. I thought I'd share one about a birthday, but there have been at least 220 birthday celebrations since our little tribe has formed a family. Not to mention that any day is a day to celebrate our family. Saturday, Tuesday, Ground Hogs Day....you get it. Mostly we celebrate each other through food and our shared lives, and did I say FOOD!

One of my favorite thoughts comes from one of our early beach trips. There is a photo of it somewhere around the house. I am in it with the subject of this composition and I think two others? We are all packed in the back part of a Subaru station wagon looking like a can of sunburned sardines. (We were much thinner then, did I say FOOD!)  It makes me smile every time I look at it.

Another memory of how good these folks are has to do with me. I was working on learning to play flute. I arranged to hold a recital in my living room. These wonderful people supported me and helped with the food. Did I say FOOD again! As I recall, I sucked as a flutist, but they were there and smiled and clapped and passed the tea and sweets they made for me and my event. Oh, what a joy they are!

Of course we had fun times too! My brother came to visit once and my partner (now ex) was out of town. I hosted a come as you are pajama breakfast. (Gee, imagine that, FOOD again!) These folks raced through my house taking pictures of each other in all the forbidden places. You see my ex partner tends to be a private person about his space. They left the photos around the place for him to find. That was fun! But the best memory of the day was when I went out of the house, I think to take some trash....my sweet brother locked me out of the house in my nightshirt. Of course my tribe played along and as I remember it wasn't really cold and after a bit they let me back in. We all had a laugh. It was a fun time.

I tend to think of many of our times because of a camera. Jene loves her camera and the pictures she takes with it. Well that is when she doesn't leave it behind. She tends to 'help' the not so good ones these days with Photoshop and she deletes the bad or totally unflattering ones. THANK GOD!  She couldn't do all that in the 'old ' days. I think she is still hiding a butt picture of mine in the eaves of her house somewhere.

I could go on and as you can see I don't have a story....I have a lifetime of memories that have become the fabric of my life. And to think it all started (and I well remember it) some 23 or so years ago when my subject walked down the alley and looked over the neighbors fence and asked "Whatcha cooking?" and the very first Supper Club bell rang. I count her as the center of this group and bless her for being who she is.