Strings, Strings and Baseball Teams

I am discovering the joys of being Noah's Mom. For instance who knew something as simple as string could bring such exhilaration and laughter. We have not had too many sunny and warm days this spring. Finally we had a day with both and even a hint of breeze. Noah knew this was a day that could not be passed up. He wanted to go fly a kite. Kite flying for me has always been more of kite dragging, but not Noah. He had a kite flying high last year. He went to the toy promotional aisle of Harmons and looked over the kites. He found a nice $5.00 helicopter kite. He was kind of looking at a Ulysses Butterfly kite as well and so he talked me into getting the butterfly.

Off we went to the Marv Jensen field where we had it all to ourselves.  I felt quite pleased to have my kite fly a few minutes and then I would hold my hand up high and try to coach it into the air. Noah would purposely guide his kite right into the path of my forehead and giggle...but soon we had caught the wind. It seems the higher it got, the more it soared so that you didn't have to do much coaxing. It was absolutely euphoric. There for a moment, I thought of how and what I have busied my life with because I had to get something done. There was never time to fly a kite...and yet here I was having the most peaceful moment in the beauty of spring. It wasn't something that I was anxious to end.

Noah and I had also brought silly string along with us when the kite string had had enough. Oh what fun...Noah had such pleasure seeing me tangled up in the web of string and I had fun letting him.  There is so much to do and so much to see when you have a young one for a companion and friend.

Noah's Dad is coaching his baseball team. They are going to be the Yankees and will play on the field where we flew our kites. They had a clinic for all the teams. I love children and I am always trying to find a way to connect. Here was this cute group of boys. There was one that was just staring and had a twinkle in his eye. I looked to his shirt. It was red with big letters and I said out loud for all to hear, "O Backs !!!! How did you get so lucky to be the O Backs." He stood there with a look that said to me, "Lady...whatever are you talking about?" Then I realized, it was another "cuh juh" "wooden roses" kind of moment. Connie whispered under her breath, "D-Backs, they are the Diamond Backs."










I guess my Mom was right. Sometimes this world just needs a little "out there" kind of moments and that is what I do best.

What are little boys made of? Snips and snail, and kites that sails, strings and strings and baseball teams, that is what little boys are made of.

What I learned from Noah: If you can't decide which kite you like, pretend one is for your Mom and then you get two kites.

In Loving Memory

Death has never been my favorite subject. I know it is part of the plan, but the idea of being put in a wooden box seems so claustraphobic, and then dirt on top of that. Ugh!!! Then there is leaving loved ones behind--I just hate it!!! As a child, I remember hiding out in the car while mom, dad, grandpa and grandma Hart went to the cemetary in Menan. They went to pay their respect, clean, and decorate the grave sites of those that had passed on.

I never really looked forward to Memorial Day, even to this day. But I do believe in paying my respects. For a while, and as a single young woman, I would meet Grandma Garff out at Wasatch Memorial. We would sit on a blanket and read a cute little book and reminisce about Grandpa. Aunt Donna always sent the lovliest of flowers and this year was no different.

Now the older I get, the more people I know--Rick's Mother and Aunt have both been added to this particular cemetary. This year, we had the honor of taking Grandma Garff with us to Wasatch Memorials. We did not sit or read, but we did observe the Marriott touch. The flowers were splendid and I could tell that was pleasing to Grandma.

Rick and Noah walked over to see a few of Rick's relatives and his Mother. Then we continued our afternoon together over dinner at the Sizzler. We love being with Grandma and feel extra blessed that she is still with us in her ripe old age of 92.

The highlight of the day had to have been when Rick called me to come outside. Noah had figured out how to fly a kite and there he was with a grin as big as Texas and kite string in hand. I was proud of him. Most of the kites I tried to fly, just scooted behind me on the pavement. I was happy to end the day with a more cheerful activity.

What I learned from Noah: Memorial Day is the perfect day to fly a kite--way up high--maybe even to the edge of heaven where loved ones are looking down.