Vacation Journal 2012 Day One

Survival

June 29th, 2012


The day has finally arrived, our vacation. After much date crunching and switching events around we have made the decision to just go and enjoy. We are borrowing a cabin from a friend of Mark’s down on Piedmont Lake; it will be our third time we have stayed in Hidden Ledges.

I love the huge deck that has a “tree house” feel to it. The cabin itself has only one room, one bath and a small bunk house with four bunk beds. Daniel and his friend Mike will stay in the bunk house while Mark, myself and the two dogs will take on the “master cabin.”

As usual, I have packed a lot. I get laughed at every year. However, this year the stress of the months before had me a little fuddled and I ended up not bringing several items I normally would. Still, we had garbage bags full of pillows, blankets, towels (even bath rugs) and supplies. Mark shakes his head as I carry bag after bag of items out to our small car. Luckily our son was able to take a huge load as well. Fans are much needed as there is no a/c in the cabin, so that also has to be lugged. Our family jokes I bring everything except the kitchen sink and if I could, I probably would. Spices, potatoes, coffee, filters, salt, pepper, all the things I know we have that will come in handy on our nine day stay.

Sometimes I wonder if it would just be easier to check into a hotel and order room service, but we enjoy the grilling out after a day on the boat fishing. We had reserved a boat but had no confirmation. It seemed every detail of our trip was a little more stressful this year, so we decided to just go with it and get away.

We set out around 12:30 P.M, after Dan got off work, gassed up; we watched the temperature rise higher and higher on our three hour drive finally reaching 100 degrees by the time we arrived. Air conditioner in the car can be very deceiving. Once we opened the door to start unloading we were hit with the stifling air, much like opening a hot over door. As we opened the door to the cabin, it had to be even higher inside after being shut tight. So unloading was slow moving, taking our time putting things right and taking breaks to water up. It was most unbearable heat.

I went about opening the windows in the cabin and as I reached over the sink my eye caught sight of one of the biggest spiders I have laid eyes on since the one who took a shower last year back home. Screaming, (yes I am a terrified of the eight legged creatures) I ran out to the deck and screamed for someone to kill it. To the rescue came Mike who loves all things insects and as I would later find out snakes. He studies them and is a world book of knowledge on types. Laughing at me, he says he “took care of it.” To me taking care of it means squashing it, he instead set it free into the “wilderness.”

As we lugged bag after bag onto the deck and into the hot cabin, I worked feverishly to try and put the necessary items away, taking frequent, and I do mean frequent breaks to sit and refresh with cold water. The men teased me over all the supplies I took but by the end of the trip, they would be grateful over several items they had first thought unnecessary.

After taking another break to wipe the sweat from my organizing, I sat down on a lawn chair and asked Mark to turn on some music. We were so glad to finally be there, I wanted to celebrate while we worked. The music soon turned into a siren blaring and a weather watch warning. Having been through a few storms, I wasn’t much worried until Mike said he got an alert on his phone that stated, “Take shelter immediately.” Mark looked worriedly up in the sky and mouthed something about high winds. Again I shook it off, told him not to worry and he stated they were talking about winds coming in over 70 miles an hour.

No sooner than the words were out of his mouth and the sun dipped behind some angry looking clouds darkening the sky. The wind started as a small breeze and just as I stepped back outside to sit down and enjoy the coolness, a sound like a train caught my attention. I looked to our right and trees started bending before my eyes. The boys sitting on deck chairs laughing at Mark soon turned into scurrying feet to run inside just as a huge tree branch fell on the deck taking out a chunk of wood with it.

The roof sounded as if someone were on top with a jack hammer. I jumped, moved inside quickly as Mark slid the sliding glass door shut. Rivets of rain pelting down hard and we watched in horror as the trees looked as if they were breaking like thin sticks. I sat down on the sofa and prayed. I prayed hard for protection and for the storm to pass. Mike kept his phone on and informed us the storm warning stated it would pass in an hour.

I didn’t think my heart could take an hour of the pounding the little cabin was taking. My thoughts turned to all the trees surrounding us and the tall ones on the slanted hill above the cabin. I had visions of them all crashing down upon us and several whacks against the roof and walls had me thinking this was true. My hero of a son put his arm around me and kept reassuring me it was okay. I kept talking to God, feeling his peace flow over me. Lightening lit the sky, thunder roared and the wind would momentarily die down only to pick back up at full speed. Everything we thought it was passing, it started again hurling branches, rocks, walnuts and debris towards us.

The storm lasted over an hour with me shaking, praying and Mark looking quite worried for our safety. The lights dimmed, the radio went off and then all power went out leaving us in a dimly lit room. Fans that were keeping us cool went silent. At last it stopped. We stepped out on the deck to survey the damage of downed trees and limbs. The deck was strewn with leaves, branches and walnuts. The one good thing this storm did was drop the temperature 20 degrees bringing us a bit of refreshment from the heat.

I stared in amazement that as best we could tell, we had little damage to the cabin and praised God we were protected and safe. Taking a big sigh of relief, we set about finding candles, (yes, laugh at me now) and flashlights to clean up what we could. I had yet to finish unpacking and now the sky was much darker and not allowing much light to work with, I left it for the next day.

The boys, now feeling safer decided to trek down the steep hill to set up a line to snag a fish. Mike loves to fish and could hardly wait to try his hand on the lake after the storm and cool air. We talked about the storm, lack of electric and how we would handle the night. I pulled blankets out as the temperature dropped even more and the breeze chilled us. (Yes, laugh at me now men, blankets to keep you warm). Who would have thought 100 degree temperatures would drop so fast we would need blankets for the night? I guess only a mother who tends to over pack. Turning in for the night, snuggled under a blanket, I thanked God again for His protection. Tomorrow we would finish cleaning up, put things away and pick up our boat. Those were the thoughts I had before shutting my eyes to sleep. Tomorrow, for sure would be another day.

Teresa Gale

Trust Me

“Trust Me”

“I pour out my complaint before Him; before Him I tell my trouble. When my spirit grows faint within me it is you who know my way.”

Psalm 142:2-3

The other day I had a heart opening moment for me in many ways. I am one of those people who play that nasty old game of “worst case scenario.” You may know the game also, maybe even played it a time or two.

When I am especially worried about something or someone one, I run scenario’s through my mind. I am a big worrier, family trait I believe, so this game happens a lot. I know in my heart I should take it all to God, but sometimes I just can’t help my human self.

Last Monday we had our bible study on David, an awesome study with some real heart sharing. Trust is always something I struggle with. Past hurts, fear of failure, insecurities, self worth, all of it keeps me from complete trust, even in my God.

It’s not that I do not believe it is more of an “I should do it myself” kind of thing. I have spent my whole life doing just that, so trust is hard for me. It means letting go of control and allowing God or other’s to not hurt me.

I pray, I pray a lot. Sometimes it is an off and on prayer all day long. And I believe in God and in miracles. However, I think sometimes God likes to give me a little wake up call, or test. He wants me to trust in Him more in fact He wants me to trust Him in all things.

After our lesson last night we shared about trusting and listening to God’s voice when He leads us. It was a touching time that opened my heart even more. To be truthful last night I especially needed this sharing and study in God’s word. What I really needed was a lesson in trusting God with everything.

My wake-up call started about a week ago. I had some tests my doctor ordered, just routine tests, but one I had been putting off for a while. I had faced a health scare two years ago with a blood clot that had fearful me to the bone and was finally starting to relax and rest in the Lord. So the tests were needed and went pretty well.


Then two days later I get a call from the hospital asking me to return and re-take my mammogram. The kind voice on the phone said something about “Density” and might require an ultra-sound. I scheduled the appointment, felt a twinge of worry, but mostly felt a sense of peace.
I didn’t allow the “worst case scenario” thing to play any recordings in my head. When the thoughts did escape a time or two, I brushed them away with a short prayer. This for me was strange in itself. I actually felt as if God were telling me all was okay.

Then two days after the phone call, I get the form letter, only this was worded in a not so comforting way. It stated that “something was found on my film and you need to return”. Well, the enemy of worry threatened to shake me into that “worst case” thought mode, but again I shook it off. My first immediate thought was to reach out to a good prayer warrior and I did request prayer from my friend Beth and let it go.


So on Tuesday, I trudge off to the testing. The staff at the local hospital is amazing, compassionate and so kind that they put me at ease. The technician reassured me during the second procedure she did not see anything more and that I would most likely not need an ultra-sound. So I felt relaxed. I prayed a prayer of thanksgiving and chatted with another woman going through the same thing.


As I sat with this stranger in a small room trying to make small talk through her worries, I silently prayed for her. The technician came to take this kind lady off to her ultra sound and I told her I would pray for her and good luck. I sat alone only a moment before my tech returned and to my surprise told me I would also be scheduled for an ultra sound but again reassured me it was routine.

Waiting is the hardest sometimes. I had thought when I left work I would only be gone an hour tops and be able to attend a women’s health lunch. Little did I know what the real “test” laid ahead of me this day.
I was met with some truly amazing women health care givers and I cannot praise them enough for their kindness, compassion and care of me. I felt at ease as the technician who would be giving me the ultra sound explained the procedure and how she also felt all was well.

Two hours later, still lying in a position that made me think of a contortionist, arm over head, half lying on my side, a wedge supporting my side on a table surely designed for someone super tiny, upper anatomy exposed embarrassingly to young girls; I was prodded.

The frown upon the young technicians face as she searched for the spot the radiologist wanted her to concentrate on was only slightly unnerving. She gently told me she needed another tech to assist.

Don’t worry.” She explained, “I really do not see anything which is good, but the radiologist will want us to be accurate.”

She left me, lying in this uncomfortable position for I am not sure how long, but long enough for worry to set in, and my body to cramp. Finally, I slowly sat up, feeling like a “bad little girl” for not lying still and stretched. I listened for what surely was forever in my mind but in actual time only several extremely long minutes. At long last, she returned with a cheerful technician and they had me get back into my “circus contortionist” position. The prodding continued on for what seemed like forever, in fact long enough for the dreaded fear to shake me and the “worst case” scene playing in my mind as I strained to look at the screen and hear the whispers they two techs were speaking.

First off, hospitals should have more relaxing atmospheres for us fearful patients. I would have peaceful scenes painted on walls and ceilings, soft music piped in and please, return a clock to the wall so we can see how long we have been stuck in a boring room with our fear.

There was no place to look but an all white ceiling. There was nothing to hear but the concerned techs trying to pinpoint something unseen inside my body, making me more nervous by the second.
By now, the mind was like a speeding train with thoughts of disaster around the bend. There just was nothing to distract myself. I started thinking of treatment, of life, and about how to tell my family. I mean the “worst case” became planning the funeral. That is what waiting and the unknown can do to my mind. I caught myself in this shameful act and stopped a moment, took a deep breath and called out to God.

“God, please let this go okay, send protection to surround me.” Then I started quoting in my head the bible verses I had memorized.

Psalm 6:2

“Have mercy upon me Lord for I am weak. O’ Lord heal my tired bones are troubled.”
Psalm 18:32

“It is God who arms me with strength and makes my way perfect.”
1 Peter 5:7
“Cast all your anxieties upon Him, for He cares for you.”

On and on, over and over I would repeat and cling to His word.

A voice spoke two words in my head. “Trust me.”
Two simple words I felt in my head and heart several times. Peace enveloped me and raged a battle with the fear.
I grew uncomfortable in my position and frustrated. I wanted to shout please stop. Instead, I rested in the Lord who is my fortress. When I thought I could stand it no more, He would still me. The technicians after about an hour and half, decided to film what they did see and with serious faces told me they would confer with the radiologist who would most likely come in to repeat the ultra-sound.

This was not what I wanted to hear. I was allowed to sit up and rest a moment. Alone in the darkened room, God spoke again. “Trust me.”

After several moments, the technician entered and with a smile told me I had no cancer. I did have a nice sized cyst in an elongated duct. That might explain some tenderness I was experiencing. She told me all was well and repeat the mammogram in a year.

I will tell you without shame, I cried. I burst into tears of thanksgiving and let them fall. Relief set through me as my body shook with the emotion. I had a reprieve. I had a flash of the women who shared the waiting room with me and felt a surge to pray again for her.

I learned a lesson, one I hope to cling to this; Listen to that small voice that comes from God and wait. No matter what the news, I was in His hands. I was not in control and no matter what the outcome, He had me covered. I am so thankful I did not hold cancer that took my Grandmother and her sister.

I have a few other health battles to conquer right now, but I have the hand of God upon me, in that I trust.

Praising God!

Teresa Gale

Single Special Moments-Treasure Hunts

Single Special Moments

Special moments in life come every single moment of the day, often we miss them. Life is busy, life is full, things happen and the rush of life passes us by.

I am in my fifties, almost half way to sixty. I feel the pressure of life just as well as the next person. Some days I look at my life and wonder how in the world I did it all when I was in my twenties, thirties and forties. A mom of six, grandma of 8, a wife of a wonderful husband, I lead a very hectic life. I work full time in a job that consumes too many hours of the day. I have poor health and cannot do the things I so wish I could do, but I try.

My children have always been my world and they are most precious to me. I believe God destined me to have the family I was meant to have. Yet I struggle, I juggle and I end up with much guilt every moment of each day. I worry over them and about them each. I wonder if I have given enough, spent enough time with this one or the other and it is a battle I wage constantly.

My biggest fear is that I will let a moment pass me by that might be my “last chance.” I fret over the fact that time is precious and I want to soak up every single precious moment God blesses me with. So when I can, as much as I can, I grab them. Those precious single special moments are mine to claim.

This past weekend was just that for me. For the past several years I have attended an annual yard sale in Columbus with my brother. My second oldest daughter, Suzanne and her two small boys were my companions again this year; this makes their third or maybe fourth time. This year as an extra special treat, my best friend Jackie joined us. For me, this trip down south is not so much about the bargains I will find, but the time I get to spend with my brother and those I love.

It is an adventure for sure. We arrive at my brother’s lovely home the night before to visit and prepare for the bargains the next day. We set out as early as we can with small kids in tow. We walk streets in heat, in rain and against a tidal wave of people in search of that something “special” they cannot live without year after year. We trudge with strollers, canes, swollen and tired feet. We search for treasures that we know will be fun to take home and place in that certain space just waiting for it.


I often come home with stuff I later look at and think; really? However later, when I pass them on a table or glance at them on a wall, or flip through the pages of a well worn book I just had to read, I find it is not the item that enhances my life. What enhances my life if the memory of the find, the hunt and the time, that single, special moment spent with the ones I love.

So this weekend for me was just that, trying to capture that single moment to remember, to hold on to tightly. In a couple of weeks, my daughter, my Suzanne will move across the country to Nevada and begin a new chapter in her life. Our annual hunt for treasures may end. I grabbed this moment knowing that our time is limited.

Although in other’s eyes, it may not have been a perfect weekend. We struggled with my painful legs that had me moving slowly, we struggled with two little ones who were not always patient with our hunt and with the heat. We stumbled along paths and through crowds that would turn others away, yet we trudged onward. I pushed myself, not willing to give up, not wanting the day to end. Reluctantly I gave up the chase.

The little guys had enough and so did Suzanne, Jackie and I were okay to finally call it quits, for we knew where the true value of the hunt lie. We rested a bit and waited for my parents who arrived a couple of hours later for dinner. As we sat around a long table at a “Fifties” diner, I surveyed those in attendance and missed those of us who for one reason or another could not join us.

Flashes went off as I snapped one photo after another trying to capture images for memory pages later. My dad’s health is failing so time is truly precious to me. I watch my mom’s smiling face and just wish to still this moment and chat awhile longer. I want to hold tightly to those I love so dearly and not let them go.

We chatted, dined, and with sorrow hugged each other as we parted. Another full evening of “deck” sitting at my brother Mike’s awaited. Back at his home, we showered to get the city dust off and gathered together out on his large deck where we shared my famous sausage balls. I sat back as the sun set, viewing the candle light and bonfire reflecting off sweet faces. I rocked little Parker sound to sleep as I listened to the chatter and laughter of my good friend Jackie. It was to those sounds that I drifted off to sleep in my chair. The day had been fulfilling, the company sweet. The hunt had not been a success in “things”, but in the people I adore.

Back at home, tired from the talking, walking, driving and whatnot, I loaded up photos to my computer of my weekend. I stopped at the one I am sharing here today and found myself choked up with emotion. My daughters blue eyes shine back to me and her grandpa’s smile lit up my heart. My daughter is soon off to the Wild West like a pioneer of old seeking her own treasures. My father who is aging and ill struggles to stay with us and keep active in his life.

I see the two loved ones faces and know as I always have, where real treasures lie. It is in my heart, full of love for family, for friends and for our lives. This past weekend’s memories will be stored in the treasure trunk of my mind, in scrapbooks and in my heart.


Teresa Gale

In the Still of the Night

In the Still of the Night




My body was raging as I rolled over at 3:30 am this morning, yet the bladder was playing Call of Duty and urged me to obey. Slowly I rise and stumble into the bathroom only to find our small dog has the same idea.

Oliver, is happy to see I am up and what he considers in his very hyper way, “at ‘em.” I groan in reply. Dusty our oldest cat begins to cry in his most irritating way and I can see there is no stumbling back into bed.

So here I am in the wee hours of the morning taking out both our dogs. I hate this part. Normally, I pretend to sleep while hubby does this chore, but I know he has been working pretty hard and being a good wife…. Well you get the picture.

My legs don’t work so well that early, my stiff joints scream as I tentatively walk down to the edge of the drive and allow our dogs for the millionth time to sniff every morsel of earth they can find.

Sighing I stretch and wait. Moving my body slowly and lifting my arms up over my head, my stretch feels good. I open my eyes and my reward is a most lovely sky full of diamonds. The stars above my head twinkle in the dark sky. It is then I become more awake and notice my surroundings.

The early morning hours are still, so quiet that I am amazed. Last night as our neighbor cut his grass for the second time in just a few days, then another edged their lawn, and another….well you get the picture. It was a most unquiet evening the night before. Yet here I am standing in the midst of my driveway listening to the sounds of nature.

A breeze lifts the new leaves and rustles them awake, a frog croaking his morning song lifts in the air and nothing else. Quiet, beauty and stillness surround me. God in all His Glory knew I needed this. I sigh a prayer of thanksgiving and enjoy the scents and sights around me.

How often have I missed this? How often do I rush head long into the day without pausing and enjoying God’s gifts? Too often I can tell you, way too often. We get in ruts, rituals as our family calls them. We rise, repeat, rinse and start all over again. Today I am thankful God saw fit to wake me early to nature’s call and enjoy this blessing.

Our lives right now are full of worries and change, yet God blesses me in the single moments, the small things as well as the large. I can tell you when I rise tomorrow, I may not want to get out of bed, but I may just take the dogs out again and let hubby sleep in. I need more moments like this in my life.



Teresa Gale

New Seasons

A New Season: Beginnings and Endings


The happiest of people don't necessarily have the best of everything; they just make the most of everything that comes along their way.—Anonymous

There are new changes on the horizon of our family. The wind has shifted and one season exits and another is blowing in.

I am trying to wrap my heart and mind around these changes, but find the emotion of it all washing over me like a wave rolling on the shores. I know with a family our size that nothing can stay the same and we are bound to go through many shifts and transformation. You would think as a mother of six I would be used to this, but in this season of my life, I am having some mini-melt-downs at the very thought.

Once upon a time, this house we live in was full of chatter and activity. When one has four daughters and two sons, the house thunders with sound. The bathrooms were always full, floors always wet and towels always being washed. Empty cartons of food tumbled over full trash cans and Televisions in almost every room competed with the different taste of the viewers. Our kitchen table was used for family dinners, game playing, homework and the dreaded “family meetings.”

Our home was always full of several different age groups of children and their friends, cats, dogs, hamsters, fish and guinea pigs. I was used to the volume; I loved the chatter, not so much the mess. Our home was full of lots of love.

One by one each child grew and asserted their independence. One by one they each tentatively stepped a foot outside the boundaries of our safe home, venturing out and creating their own lives. It was never, ever easy for me to witness. Often I would succumb to tears as the thought of my child, the child that had grown in me and around me left our home. I would be overcome with a feeling of loss, worry and pride for each of them. I was never able to physically help them pack, but often would help in the setting up of their new homes.

I am reminded of that song of childhood; “One little, two little, three little Indians…..” One by one they flew from the nest and struck out on their own. I have been present at each graduation with teary eyes and a heart full of love. I have witnessed weddings and births.

The door to our home has always remained open and at one time or another, each one has returned for a season.  Several times the came to gather strength and comfort. Once they got steady on their feet each would take another deep breath and head back out into the jungle of our world.

Our oldest daughter did just that almost two years ago bringing her two children home to heal, rest and gather strength to head back out. It is never easy to move back home, I understand that. Personalities sometimes bat at each other, struggles, conflicts all happen as we go from mothering to stepping back and allowing our children to figure things out. She has recently set out with her children again on her own. We are happy for her and support her choice, yet we miss them. Our home has grown quieter. I pray daily that God will bless them and strengthen her family.

Our second oldest daughter has recently announced she has taken a new job on the West Coast, thousands of miles away. So at the end of this month, she, her husband and two small boys will set out on a new adventure. I am reminded of the pioneers, our ancestors who settled out west and panned for gold. She will be working for a mining company who does just that. She will face many hardships, but like the ancestors of days long past, she and her family will survive and learn new things. They will settle in and do well. I have faith in that, just as I have faith that God is in the works.

Our third daughter took on a new job this year, one that requires longer hours and much patience as she attends the ailing. We juggle time together to work around her schedule and God surely is using her talents to care of those who need compassion. I am so proud of her.

Our youngest daughter has faced many health problems, a new job and a new promotion. Our time together is precious; my worries over her swallow me up some days. Like all of my children, I am amazed at her strength, but fight this constant urge to pull her home, and mother her into good health. My heart aches that she has to suffer through her ailments and pray God would heal her.

Our oldest son is getting married this year. He already has a beautiful family and now will seal his commitment with his charming wife. We are so happy for them and I find myself emotion filled at the little boy I met 19 some years ago. I did not give birth to this son, but have loved him as my own. He is going through many new changes with a possible position change at work. My prayers are steady and sure for him

“Now there is one….”

The baby, our son, will graduate in just a few weeks. Where did the time go? I pause writing this as I read back to the start. Was it not just yesterday I watched our oldest receiving her diploma? Where has time gone?

I remember at her ceremony, sitting at the very top of the bleachers with my husband gazing down to the floor chairs as elderly people walked in to take seats. I recall the joke I made back then. “One day Hun, that will be us when Daniel graduates.”

Here we are we have come full circle. From our oldest child to our youngest graduating, where did time go?

Our youngest is head strong, knows what he wants and is so impatient to get there. My advices to him…”slow down….enjoy the ride.” One day he will look back just as I am this Mother’s Day morning and wonder; “Where did time go?”

In a flash, before we know it, it happens. Seasons come and seasons go; we move from one to another without pausing long enough to enjoy, cherishing the now of the moment. In the Spring of our lives, we are so impatient with getting to Summer. We never realize how quickly each season passes.

The buds of Spring, the start of life is so precious, so busy as we are filled with growing and watching the growth. We are overwhelmed with the beauty of this season and excited to see the blooms turn into the lovely flowers.

The summer is upon us and everything is in full bloom. We are so busy tending the blooms we often sit still in the garden of our life to enjoy the lovely fragrance. We are constantly looking ahead to the next chore, the next weeding time and worrying over the next season.

Autumn of life rushes at us and we are dazzled about the beauty before our eyes. So lovely is this season with the brilliant colors of growth that we become sad at the thoughts of the leaves falling from our sight. We are soon surrounded by the crunch of life beneath our feet and we sprint to catch them before they fall. We are overwhelmed with the emotion of this season. The buds have now opened and are shedding to begin life anew on their own.

Winter brings its own spectacular season and we become stuck here in isolation. We are mesmerized by the stark whiteness in this moment that blinds us. We stand alone, waiting for spring to begin. It is in the coldness of this season we start dreaming of days gone by, chances missed, and times of the past that fortify us for the future. We store up memories of the past and treasure them. We now realize the beauty of each and every season and only wish we could have enjoyed each moment.

As I face this season of change, the Autumn and Winter of my life, I realize how precious this gifts have been. Each child has brought me so much in their very different ways. Each child was a gift from God. I feel as if I missed some of the season because I was so busy preparing for the next.

If I could impart one gift to each of my children it would be to tell them to live in the moment. Treasure the past and all that brought them into this season, but stand still long enough to enjoy what you have. As I watch from close by as each of you step out into your own season, I say a prayer and tearfully but with pride, watch you grow. I love you.

Teresa Gale
May 13, 2012

Old Fashioned Lady

I think I finally understand. I understand my grandparents and my parents all those years ago trying to keep things simple, keep things on track and disagreeing with the changes. I imagine they saw it coming.

Times have changed and the older I get, the more I try to hang on to what I knew once upon a time. Strange how the table has turned on me and I see things in a different light.

I understand that change is good, at least that's what I hear. Trust me when I say, in my life, I have seen and experienced much change.

What I don't get, what I struggle with is letting go of values, family values. I am all for progress, love the internet, love the fact I can call anyone anywhere in a moments time in every room in the house or car for that matter. I like the instantness of an email, blog, social network and text messages. It's all good in small doses.

I miss the old days and call me old fashioned, but I miss that good old time together as a family. I know I have found myself caught up in the technological age the same as everyone else, so call me guitly as everyone else.

With all these changes since I was a little girl, I find many things I never really thought of then, but miss now. What I miss  most is talking face to face, writing long letters, and family dinners at the kitchen table. I miss land line phones without call waiting, I miss limited access to TV and board games. I miss the one on one you can only get if you sit across from someone and really listen to them and not the cell phone dinging a text message or call from someone who evidently is more important than my company.

I like to observe people and find myself highly agitated at what I see these days. Recenly, in my own home, I watched my family sitting next to each other, but not looking at each other or speaking. Each head was bowed, not in prayer, not in sleep, but eyeing their individual cell phone or music devise. Sounds emitted in the air, but not of conversation, it was all techno talk. Later having dinner with a friend, I watched the same thing all around me at tables. People were not paying any attention to those they were with but to the world outside. Phone chatter, finger texts, TV blaring and a lot of very sad faces.

I wonder why the world is in a state of funk, is it because we have lost our core values? We are so busy and these gagets can sure make life easy, but only to a point. What I find with the tech world is that I have less time than ever before, my health is worse, my stress level higher. We have it easy, or so the experts tell us. If you ask me, we do not have it easy, we have made it worse.

I am dissatisfied with the world around me, that is not to say I do not feel very blessed, for God surely has blessed me. It does not either say I am unhappy with my life, for I am. But I miss the "good ole days", I miss shows that are not vulgar, movies that do not sprinkle every sentence with the "F" bomb and make me cringe. (Instead, call me a prude now, I turn it off). I miss real conversations with live people talking about what matters most. I miss long walks even on cold days just because. I miss board games (which our family has recently started playing again) instead of animated, loud violent video games.

I miss values and I voice it often. I am sure those around me are sick and tired of it. I want to sometimes scream at the top of my lungs, "WAKE UP!" Life is too short, I have lost too many loved ones to realize the value of those precious moments. You can not go back in time and recapture those lost moments.

I write those long letters by the way, some of you may be a receiver of them. I recently lost someone very dear to me who wrote me long and beautiful letters. For two long months I could not bring a pen to paper or type a word due to my grief. He brought to me values in life, value to family and meaning to things that I had sometimes forgot. I miss him and in my grief, find myself thinking on these things more often.

People are important and as much as we would like to say we have three hundred friends on a social network site, how many of those so called friends have you spoken with recently? Do you really know their every dream and thought?

I tell my children and grandchildren all the time how important it is to spend time together. I am sure they are quite sick of hearing it. At my age I value time, I cherish those moments together. I am tired, I am older, I am just as busy as the next person. There are times I wish to just ignore it all and rest. However, I know the value of hearing a child laugh, of listening to one of my daughters or sons tell me about their days. I long to listen to them, to watch the expressions on their faces and really soak it all up. I have today, I have this precious moment, I have now. That is all I know.

So when you see me next, turn off your phone and lets talk.

Teresa Gale

Family Photo

Family Photo




We did it! We finally got the whole family, kids, grandkids, husbands and significant others plus the two of us old folks to a photo session. I am still amazed we did it.

Our family is a good size. We have six children, eight grandchildren and 3 sons in laws and one daughter in law. Twenty of us gathered dressed and ready for our photo shoot. It all went well; we even managed to coordinate colors to blend into the brown background. The grandchildren did wonderful, no tears, lots of laughter and we managed a two hour photo session pretty darn good.

My husband, Mark, arranged this as a Christmas gift for me. He got together with each child and somehow pulled a rabbit out of the hat, for all of them to agree on a date and time is remarkable. The fact no one was ill, everyone showed up, is short of a miracle.

As we all lined up in the lobby, my heart swelled in love. Nervous about how it all would go, soon dissolved into love for each member of our large family. One by one they were taken in back for their own session and then Mark and I were led in. As each individual family surrounded us for photos, I found myself fighting tears. We were capturing the miracle of love. How could I not get all choked up?

Soon we will have evidence of our love and family one a wall, marking history of us. I am thrilled over this gift that will give me years and years of joy. I want the thank each and every one of them for making this happen.



Teresa Gale
2012