Beans & Cornbread

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It is funny how the titles come to me that take me back to years ago. The good ole beans and cornbread, probably quite the dinner bowl in the southern parts of the states. I was raised with them but now rarely make them, although I do enjoy when I do make or eat them.

Back when I was dating my husband, I was questioning everything and the pros and the cons. Should I marry him? There was a hesitancy, but he truly treated me well, unlike other guys I dated. Of course, that surely had to be a sign from God. Right? Little things added up and some things did not but taking a step in marriage is a BIG STEP.

Since my mom always made beans and cornbread through the years to feed all the mouths in our family and company, I mentioned to her one evening that this man I was dating, now for years, loves beans and cornbread. Her advice was that if I can find a man who loves beans and cornbread, he is a winner. Well, I married him.

Then I realized that I made beans and cornbread quite often, to the point I hated them, which is one reason today that I do not make them. It has been years. I can make a good pot of beans, or I used to. Cornbread was not bad either, especially fried. At one point in my small family, I cooked and baked quite a bit. Now things look different in my home, with the boys on their own and my husband living with his mother, caring for her. So, the beans and cornbread, never simmer or are enjoyed but they have been on my mind, which is why I am writing. Maybe for old-time sake, I should make a pot. Maybe tomorrow, maybe not.

Let me know if you have had or enjoy beans and cornbread. Country cooking at its finest.

Missed Words

Today, as I listened to Reba McIntyre talk about her dad and how she never heard him tell her that he loved her growing up, laughing and brushing it off, I felt sad. What was it about that generation that did not say they loved their children? I know it must have hurt her even though she understood him. All children need to hear I Love You. I try to grasp what that generation was thinking, perhaps how they were raised. Did they not hear I Love You and figured that was the right way to raise their children or were they told too much and definitely did not want to repeat the same, which I really doubt. Maybe they were never told I Love You, so they lived a life of figuring they were loved, or also doubting of their parent’s love.

Had I heard those three words growing up, it sure would have saved me a lot of time and money in counseling. While that was not the main purpose of counseling, it played a big part of my life, a missing part. I discovered that I felt unlovable and not knowing even that until the counselor helped me see the dots connected. Something was just missing. Thank God she picked up on what I said and expressed of my childhood and adulthood.

While I, too, understood, I missed that part of truly knowing. Of course, they loved me, I am their child. RIght? Then again, I was an oopsie and did they regret me more than love me, which was a thought I often had. No, they loved me. It was just not part of them to express, and I have to remember that was just the way it was for them back then. How sad though that a child has to wonder such facts that should be an important part of growth.

Some will immediately state, of course, you were loved, as you had a roof over your head, shoes on your feet and food on the table. True! Is it that hard to say I Love You though to your own flesh and blood?

One thing, I learned of never hearing I Love You was to always tell my children that I love them. They never leave or hang up the phone call without their mom saying, I Love You. In turn, they tell me that they love me, which means the world to me. Maybe I run it in the ground too much whenever we leave one another, as I have thought, but how can one not enjoy hearing those three words. If I was to leave this world or they would, I want them to never have to guess or wonder if I loved them, vice versa. My heart beats for them, more than they will ever know. The last words, no matter when, I Love You!

I am sure in my parent’s heart, it beat for me, but my heart was broken many times when growing up, playing the guessing game if I truly was loved. Sadly, growing up never hearing, I never said those words to them either. Even though, they cared for me and at the end of their lives, I cared for them. That’s love!

It is understanding but yet forgiving them and myself of what did not happen in order to go on and know deep within that they loved me, and I loved them.

Never miss the opportunity to reassure those in your life of your appreciation, pay a compliment and put a positive word in their life and the most important is, I Love You.

Mom, Don’t Go There!

Those little boys of mine always fun and also a lot of work, but I would not have changed those moments together, unless to add more.

Where did the time go? Just yesterday….. as we have all said at some point. The kiddos were little and we were worn out. It seemed like high school took forever, but I remember that being my case also, when in school. The college years flew and they never returned home. An empty nest was an adjustment as the house was quiet and mom’s kitchen was clean. Oh, I miss those days at times with a house full of neighborhood kids hanging out, even the talking, laughter, odors and messes.

My boys grew up to be wonderful, adults and makes this mom so proud. The time in between visits is less than I prefer but I remember being young once. Life gets busy, we all work and they have their life to live. Still, it’s nice hanging out with our adult children.

The roles have reversed somewhat. This past weekend, I hung out with my boys as my youngest was moving. A move always will bring about a contact, “Hey mom, want to come down and help decorate my new place?” I knew that meant more than to decorate but off I went to help and spend time with them.

This day of moving was on his twenty-seventh birthday so that made it even better, for me. I’m sure he’d rather be hanging out with friends and drinking a beer but he was stuck with his mom and brother hauling boxes out of one place to another. It was all good, us three together, but exhausting.

The next day, him and I finished the last few hauls to the new place. Exhaustion was an understatement but we pushed through. It was when he was to go for a final walk through with the previous landlord but he sent his roommate and did not join, but his name was on the lease. I did not care for that. I made a comment about his name on the lease but knew to shut up.

This child of mine is twenty-seven, he is an adult. Whatever the reason to not go and finalize the closure is between him and the landlord. Not mom. Actually, it took pressure off me, as I have no control. He has and will make decisions I may or may not agree with but he knows he has to face consequences if a wrong decision or circumstance. I have seen him work through situations, not asking for help or a handout, which makes me proud. Sometimes, if he would just listen to his mom, it would be easier. Right?

On my hour drive home, I was thinking about the move, our conversations and knowing he is at a fork in the road with his business due to the pandemic. He is a true entrepreneur and will figure it out, he always does.

Driving and thinking back also on my young, single days, as he is, I made some stupid decisions and have regrets. We all have. It’s part of growing up and being mature and independent. The words, I wish I did, I wish I didn’t, if only I could go back, I regret, etc., those moments are done and over. Hopefully, through each circumstance, we all have learned a lesson. Some do and some don’t.

The independence of this adult son, both sons, continue to grow and mom is not needed as much. While I am proud of them, I find it sad. I see the tide turning, as I add their names to my emergency contacts. I seem to ask for their advice more and for help, if needed. I’m not a nursing home candidate yet but my stage in life is gaining ground.

As there is distance between us, it takes time to organize to visit, and the days pass so quickly. I often wonder if one day they will regret not calling or texting mom more or visiting, etc. I would say that is a rite of passage for all parents and children, which is sad. I want them to remember their mom as being their biggest cheerleader in life, that they never had to wonder if they were loved, I was always available 24/7, even for those 3:00 a.m. calls, as my youngest knew I would be there for him and to pray. Remembering our laughter of silly times together or knowing I would always help clean, catch up on their laundry, decorate and hang curtains that I hope to finish this weekend. I’m there for them, if they want or need me.

It’s probably a good thing we live an hour away. Mom has her place but not in their business. They are doing fine on their own. I am one proud mom.

https://www.crosswalk.com/faith/prayer/11-encouraging-prayers-for-your-son.html

https://www.crosswalk.com/family/parenting/pray-for-your-adult-children-11607227.html

https://lysaterkeurst.com/2014/01/17/10-prayers-for-your-daughter/