On My Front Porch

There is an appointed time for everythingAnd there is a time for every event under heaven - - (Ecclesiastes 3:1)

On My Front Porch

By Debbie Ayers

I absolutely love my front porch! It was a sort of “side-benefit” that came with buying our new house. Although I have to admit, I wasn’t actually sure how I felt about it - - - at first . . .

It isn’t your typical front porch that starts with a pretty sidewalk, and then stairs that head up to your porch and front door. My porch actually comes off of the side yard, or from an inside door that is in the dining room. The porch wraps around from the side and then goes across the front of the house. It has the typical white banister, and grey painted wood boards for the flooring, but I still wasn‘t sure what to do with it. We had just moved into the house the very last week-end in October, and the porch was just something that I looked at - through my living room windows. Soon, it filled up with snow - as the winter set in. And I had my doubts about how safe it was - as my husband was standing on top of it - pushing snow off it in February! As spring drew near - I really wasn’t sure what we would do with the porch - as we didn’t even have rocking chairs, or even regular chairs to put out on it!

I guess I shouldn’t have worried too much about what to do with the porch. God always seems to find a way to bless us - - - when I least expect it! After moving in to our new house, we had slowly met a few of our neighbors. On the day that I watched my husband standing on our roof - shoveling snow off of it - we met Terry. She too had been working hard to clean off her porch roof. As I had watched her climbing out her upstairs window, I couldn’t help but think she was probably safer than my Ted was. She had a rope tied around her waist, and she carefully moved out onto the roof with her shovel. Ted and I watched her here and there, in between the work Ted was doing on our own roof. As the day slipped by, and twilight seemed to be setting in, a dark figure was headed toward our house - holding a shovel. As I watched them approach, I wondered which teen in the neighborhood was too late to help out. But just as the thought filled my head, I realized it was the lady from the roof down the street.

Ted and I would get to know Terry pretty well over the next few months. We visited with her that evening, sharing a glass of wine, and listening as she told us about her husband - who had passed away just a month earlier. She shared about the man who I just knew was the love of her life. She talked about her home, and how she was planning on selling it, and moving to a smaller place. That evening, we learned so much about this woman - and the life she had shared with her husband.

Over the next few months, Ted and I would stop and chat with Terry. She would come by once in a while as we trimmed up the lawn that spring - getting the gardens and yard ready for summer. Then one day Terry showed up at the door, wondering if she could ask us a question. “You don’t have rocking chairs” she commented as she pointed to our front porch. “No, hopefully we can buy some down the road” I told her. That’s when she offered us her own white rocking chairs. I wasn’t so sure what to do, but she told us she was moving in a month, and hoped we would say yes.

That’s how we ended up with two beautiful white whicker rocking chairs on our front porch. We also have a really pretty rug under them. That too came from Terry. We also added a couple of small tables, and put out plants and hanging baskets. Our summer porch was all ready!

Now this is where I have to admit that we probably use our porch a lot differently than most of the neighbors on the street, or even most people I know. During the summer, our neighbors would sit out in the late afternoons on their porches, visiting with other neighbors, reading a book, or sipping a glass of wine. I guess I just wasn’t the sip wine and read a book on the porch type of person. Instead, I waited until Ted would get home, and then the question would be: “Is it popsicle time?” At that, one of us would go get two popsicles and we would head for the front porch. There, we would eat our popsicles, rock in our beautiful chairs, and just relax with each other. Sometimes we would watch the sunset. Other times we just sat and rested - in between working in the garden. It just became a very special place for us to share, with each other, and also with family and friends. And then - - - fall set in . . .

A few weeks ago, the night temperatures started dipping close to the freezing temperatures, and we started bringing in our plants from the porch. My hanging plants had passed by, and the flowers that had bloomed close to the porch seemed pretty much done. But as Ted started bringing things in, I told him I didn’t want to bring in my rocking chairs - not yet anyways! “Why?” he asked. “The popsicles are just about gone, and it is getting darker now.” As he said it, I knew he was right. But I asked him to wait. “Jenny is coming, she needs to have a popsicle on the porch!” I told him. It made no sense, and I knew she probably wouldn’t get a chance - - - but I said it anyways.

Jen and Dan came down to visit on Friday night. They arrived around midnight, totally exhausted and needing to get some sleep. As Saturday morning dawned, everyone seemed to be still so tired. But we got up, made a big breakfast, and got ready to party! It was birthday party day for three of the grandbabies - Derek, Brenden, and Abby! So we wrapped presents, did cards, and got ready and headed to Mike’s house. There we visited with kids, and family, and had a really nice time with everyone. As we headed home, I think we all were a bit exhausted. But Ted and I had planned a cook-out for Dan and Jen, and so we started cooking when we got home. We made steaks and hand cut potato wedges with roasted veggies. The whole thing was so delicious! As we finished up at the dining room table, the kids got ready to head out. They were going to visit with Jen’s father and his wife for a little bit. After hugging the kids and sending them on their way, Ted and I cleaned up from supper, and sat down to watch some television. Before I knew it, I was dozing off.

That night I fell asleep as soon as I hit the pillow. Jen and Dan came in and did the same - heading to bed to finally get some rest. As Sunday morning dawned, I got up and started coffee - so happy that “my” Jenny was home for a little bit. I already knew what I was going to make her for breakfast! She loves pancakes, and I make pretty good ones from scratch. So as I sipped my coffee, watching a little bit of the morning news as I waited for everyone else to wake up, I could feel the contentment inside of me.

That morning seemed to fly by! Ted woke up first, and we shared a quick cup of coffee as I pulled the bacon from the fridge. As I got the bacon started on low heat, I pulled my recipe from my old Betty Crocker cookbook. The recipe is stained and faded, and I really don’t need it - but I always pull it out when I make my pancakes. As Jenny came downstairs yawning, she gave me a quick hug before getting some coffee. Dan had already headed out to the living room with his own cup, the newspaper sprawled all over the coffee table. The house was abuzz with life, as each of us went in and out of the kitchen - chatting with each other as breakfast was cooking.

Before I realized it, breakfast was on the table and we were praying together. We held hands and prayed for the day, and thanked the Lord for the gift of Jen and Dan here with us. As we all ate, the conversation flowed, in between bites of food. I don’t even know what we talked about, but it didn’t seem to matter. It was just nice to be in that place - - - at that moment.

With breakfast finished, Jen and Dan headed upstairs to get ready for the day. They had plans - visiting with Mike and his family, going to a corn maze with the kids, and supper out with more family. As I hugged them both and told them to have fun and be careful, a little sadness seeped in. But I waved and smiled - and knew they would be back later on . . .

. . . I tell you a mystery; . . . In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye . . .

It always amazes me how quickly time passes by. Sunday evening came before I even realized it! Ted and I had spent a little time out in our garden, getting it ready for the winter. We had pulled out the last of the tomato plants, and put mulch down to protect the beets and a few other root plants. As we came inside, I could feel the chill in my bones. Ted went over to the little door that lead out to our porch and locked it for the evening. My rocking chairs were still sitting out there, but I knew that time was slipping away - and soon they too would have to be put away for the winter. As I got ready for bed, I wondered when Jen and Dan would come “home”. I knew it really wasn’t their home - - but it was the home that I make for my family. I didn’t want to be upset, but I knew that deep down, I was already missing my daughter . . .

. . . I tell you a mystery; . . . In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye . . .

We shall all be changed . . . (1 Corinthians 15:52)

Jen and Dan came in a little after 11pm that night. We visited for a little bit, and then I headed up to bed. I was so tired, and maybe a little drained from emotions that I didn’t even want to look at. My daughter would be leaving the next day, and for sure, snow would be around before I would see her again! As I fell asleep that night, I whispered at little prayer, asking God to take care of my daughter . . .

The alarm started going off at 6:30am - but I really didn’t pay much attention to it until closer to 7. I woke up to a kitty purring near my face, and wondering how I was going to get up out of these warm covers. I pushed the cat a little, and slowly slid out from the bed. Getting my slippers and a warm shirt on, I headed downstairs to the kitchen. Two cats ran down the stairs ahead of me, hoping that breakfast would already be waiting for them! As I set out the kitty bowls and poured coffees, I knew that this was the last morning that Jenny and Dan would be here. I headed back up the stairs to see if Ted had finally woken up. Handing him his coffee, I headed into the bathroom to get ready for the day.

We all had breakfast together again. Ted all ready for work, and Jen and Dan still in their pj’s. As I kissed Ted goodbye, he seemed to sense I was a bit sad. He pulled me tight and told me everything would be OK. I waved as he drove down the road, and headed inside the house. Jen and Dan were already getting showered and dressed, having promised to go with me to visit my mom in the nursing home. I have to admit, I was glad to get a little more time with them - - - before they left.

Mom wasn’t so sure who Jenny and Dan were when she first saw them. But as they sat and visited with her, she noticed a picture up on her wall. “Jenny, Jenny!” she said - as she pointed at the picture, and then at Jen. “That’s you!” she smiled, and we all just laughed and smiled back. We visited with mom, and I was even able to have one of the nurses take a beautiful picture of us all before we left. As we headed out the door, my mom was already laughing and chatting with her neighbors at the table where she would eat her lunch.

Dan, Jen, and I headed to a local diner for lunch, and then it was time to head home. As we got here, I knew they would be needing to get ready to leave soon. I picked up a few things, and waited as Jen packed. And then Dan headed out to the truck to put some things inside of it. As he did, Jen turned and smiled at me. “Popsicle time?” she asked? As she said it, I wondered how she could possibly know. Looking over at her smiling face, I just started to laugh. We headed toward the freezer (where just that week I had put a new box of popsicles inside of it) and pulled two out and quickly headed to the porch door. Outside, we sat down in the rocking chairs and started to eat our popsicles. I looked over at my daughter and realized what a beautiful young woman she really has become. She smiled at me, and we chatted just a little bit. Dan headed over toward the porch, and laughed as he watched us rocking and eating popsicles. He was so patient, even though I knew it was time for them to leave.

And . . . Love is patient, love is kind, and is not jealous; . . . And is not arrogant, . . .
(it) bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, . . .
(1 Corinthians 13: 4 - 7)

As my daughter and her husband drove down the road this afternoon, I stood on the side of the road - waving until their truck turned the corner. I could see my daughter’s arm waving as they drove away. As I turned to go into the house, I swallowed hard and looked up at my porch. I love my porch . . . I love . . .

And . . . Love is patient, love is kind, and is not jealous; love does not brag and is not arrogant, . . . (it) bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
Love never fails; . . .
(1 Corinthians 13: 4 - 8)

Treasures of time . . .

Treasures of time . . .

There is an appointed time for everything.
And there is a time for every event under heaven - - -
(Ecclesiastes 3: 1)

Totes were everywhere, all around us! Ted and I had decided to find our fall decorations. Our basement is a pretty good size, but we are only using part of it at the moment. We have so many boxes and totes lined up - almost to the ceiling - in one small area of the basement. So to go through them, we have to start moving them all around. And that means - putting them everywhere around us!

As we opened up each tote, I have to admit that it was kind of fun to see what was inside each one. There had been one that I had packed extra dishes in, and we found some mugs that were just right for fall! In another one, I had put extra frames that my dad had given to me. We took them out and stacked them where I could get at them, just waiting for the pictures I love to take! And then Ted handed me a pretty tin that he had found in one of the boxes. I looked at it, trying to remember if I had ever seen it before. As I opened it, I saw pictures; a small woman’s handkerchief; and even a bride’s garter belt! Picking up each piece, I found myself so surprised to realize that some of these things were from my mom and dad’s wedding! There was an envelope in the tin that said “for the bride”, and inside was one of the invitations to my mom’s wedding. The little white handkerchief was just the right size for a bride to carry with her! As I carefully held the garter belt, I was so surprised to find a small pocket hidden inside of it. There was a small snap holding it closed, and when I pulled it open, I couldn’t believe I found a bright, shiny penny inside. The penny was still in perfect condition, with the date of “1933”. In my head, I came up with all sorts of stories of the importance of that penny. I wondered if it had been kept from my mom’s Dedication as a little baby, after all, my mom had been born in late December, 1932. As I put the penny carefully back in it’s pocket, I looked through a few more items in the tin. Carefully, I put each one back inside, wondering about so many stories that went with each one. Just before I closed the lid, I took a couple of the pictures out, just wanting to keep them with me. Handing the tin back to Ted, I couldn’t help but feel like we had found a treasure chest - full of wonderful stories of love - and lives - from so long ago . . .

And there is a time for every event under heaven -
A time to give birth, and a time to die;
A time to plant, and a time to uproot what is planted.
(Ecclesiastes 3: 1 & 2)

Pictures & Moments - Treasures of times gone by . . . I have pictures all around me, and inside of me, of times that have long since past away. As I brought the pictures from the tin up to my desk, I set them around my computer. There was a picture of my mom as a young nurse, surrounded by her co-workers and friends. In the picture my mom is smiling so brightly, the prettiest nurse in the picture! She has a corsage pinned to her uniform, her white nurse’s hat pinned to her head. The picture had been taken in the foyer of the large entrance way to “The Manor” - the first “Webster Manor Home” where my mom had worked. As I looked at the picture, I realized that all these ladies had been taking care of patients who were - just like my mom is now. The house where the picture was taken, no longer exists. Instead, there are 2 nursing homes that were built on that same property. But a beautiful little park and two gazebo’s stand on the exact place where that foyer used to be. Looking at my mom in the picture, she was so beautiful, happy and vibrant - helping people who went ahead of her - - - struggling with the same disease she would finally be diagnosed with . . .

A time to weep, and a time to laugh;
A time to mourn, and a time to dance.
(Ecclesiastes 3: 4)

As I pick up another picture, I see my Grandma Hohler standing next to her two little ones. Those two are my dad, and his sister Betty. In the picture, there is a silhouette of my Grandpa - who was taking the picture. As I look at the picture, memories of the days and weeks before my dad’s death seem to come back into my head. My brothers, my aunts, and I spent so much time together with my dad and my mom during those weeks. My dad was slowly succumbing to the cancer that was all throughout his body. But his mind seemed so sharp and clear, and so - as we visited - he would tell us stories of his past. We talked about his time in the army, and he told us how his group of friends would head out on Friday night for the edge of town where they were stationed. He was part of a group of photographers who were sent to capture the pictures and moments of history, during the Korean War. He and his buddies were a lot alike, they didn’t seem to like to drink and party - instead - they headed to the “tent revival” that was on the outskirts of town. As he told us the stories, I have to admit - I was a bit surprised. I didn’t know that my dad had gone to revivals, or even knew about the type of church services - where I had found the Lord at!

As the days slipped by, my aunts would tell stories of my dad to my brothers and me. My dad had slipped into a coma, but he seemed to be talking about his childhood, and we heard bits and pieces of his life during that time. One of the stories my aunts told, was about the two little ones in the picture - my dad and my Auntie Betty. They were the oldest, and seemed the most outgoing of the group of kids that would follow. My grandparents had 4 girls and one boy - my dad. But “Bobby & Betty” as my aunties would say - got into the most trouble. They loved to pretend, and would set up “stores” in the back yard of their apartment building. There, along the fence, they would pretend to sell whatever they could get their hands on. Sometimes, that would be the toys that they all played with. But sometimes, they would pretend to sell fish, just like the fishman down the street from them. They would get out the newspaper, and wrap up the fish inside of it - just like he did. The only problem was, the fish inside - just happened to be the goldfish from inside their house! As my aunts told us the story, we all laughed, looking over at my dad, who already seemed so far away! The tears of laughter, suddenly seemed to mix - with our tears of sadness . . .

And there is a time for every event under heaven -
A time to give birth, and a time to die; . . .

As the days meshed into one another, and time seemed to be slipping away for my dad, I remember talking on the phone with my cousin Cheryl. We talked about her mom, my Auntie Betty, who had passed away quite a number of years earlier. At that moment, we knew that “Bobby & Betty” would soon be together - - - again . . .

A time to mourn, and a time to dance . . .

Pictures & Moments - Treasures of time . . . I guess as I think about that time spent with my family, I can feel my heart still hurting inside of me. But there is also another feeling, one of gratitude and thanksgiving - for the stories and pictures that will stay with me forever. My dad’s life lives on - in those memories . . .

For His anger is but for a moment, His favor is for a lifetime; Weeping may last for the night, But a shout of joy comes in the morning.
(Psalm 30: 5)

I love pictures. I love to take them. I love looking at the family I have all around me, and I love remembering times that we shared together. But I also love to look at the pictures that my parents and grandparents have left behind. They tell stories of “who” each of them were. They tell the story of a moment in time - a moment of celebration, or even a moment of just living their lives.

I have a picture of my “Nana” (my mom’s mother). She is a young woman in the picture, standing with her best friend “Tootie”. The picture was taken in the 1920’s, and my grandmother and her friend were dressed in the styles of that time. They have on long dresses, with long winter coats and scarves. They have hats that look like bowls on their heads, with big bows on the sides of them. As I look at the picture of the two of them, I can see a bit of my mom’s face in my Nana. For me, my Nana was always white haired with glasses, and looked nothing like my mother. But as I look into the face of the young woman who became my grandmother, I see her so different.

When I was 14, I spent the summer with my grandmother. My grandfather had just passed away, and my mom wanted me to stay and be company for my grandmother. At the time, I have to admit I really didn’t want to stay! I had friends at home, and a little job at the library - making “real” money. But my vote didn’t count - and so I moved to the cape. There, I was given the room upstairs - across from the attic. At the time, I really didn’t think much about it. But it was to that room that I would take my new Neil Diamond record that she bought me. My grandmother showed me my grandfathers big record player, and told me I could use it. I would play that record over and over again, and as loud as I wanted to! Not once did my Nana yell at me, or tell me to be quiet. Instead, she showed me the desk that had been my grandfathers. She told me I could use it as well, and it was there that I wrote letters to my friends, telling them how much I missed them. I can still remember sitting at that desk, pulling out all the little drawers, holding pencils and erasers, and all sorts of treasures that I knew my grandfather had once held. As the days went by, little by little, I started to spend more time with my grandmother. She would listen as I talked to her about being a 14 year old, and feeling ugly. She shared stories of being young, and feeling the same way. Over the weeks and months that followed, I learned so much about my grandmother. She told me stories of spending time with her friends and her cousins. She shared about falling in love and eloping with my grandfather. I guess I started to learn about the young woman who was in that picture.

During that summer that I lived with my grandmother, I learned about faith, about heartache, and about life. My grandmother shared herself with me. She let me be myself as well. She gave me space to be a teenager - and she gave me a place to learn about so much more. When I moved there, I was so angry! It took a little time, but soon I found myself loving being with my grandmother. At 14, I didn’t know a lot about boys, or falling in love. But as I watched my grandmother quietly grieve the loss of her husband, I learned so much about true love, and trusting in God. There were moments when I would catch my grandmother talking to my grandpa. She would talk to him lovingly, telling him that she would see him again, someday. I guess it was then that I started to think about faith, and a God that will take care of us.

Weeping may last for the night, But a shout of joy comes in the morning . . .

Pictures & Moments - Treasures to me . . . I look at the pictures before me, realizing that the moments they have captured - mean so much to me. They represent a time in the lives of those I love, a time when they were full of life . . .

The other day, I went to visit my mom. She was sitting in her usual comfy chair, concentrating on the work before her. She had scissors in her hand, and the wastebasket in front of her. She had long strips of newspapers next to her, which she carefully cut into small, little pieces. This is a job she repeats every day. I have stopped questioning it, as it seems like a job her mind has given her to do.

As I walked in the door, mom looked up and smiled. “You’re here!” she said. “Come sit down” and she motions toward a chair nearby. “Hey mom, want to go for a walk?“ I asked. “Sure, just let me pick this up” she says. She quickly puts her things away, and before I know it, she is giving me a big hug. “I am so glad you are here!” she says. “Me too” I said.

That day, I took my mom outside for a walk. She was dressed a bit odd, pajama bottoms on, and a red sox t-shirt. We found her jacket, and outside we went. As I took her hand, we headed up the hill toward the back of the nursing home. The skies were full of clouds, with a little sunshine peeking out. As we walked, mom asked how everyone was, and I told her all about the kids and grandkids. I guess I would say I did most of the talking, but mom listened and asked questions. As we finished our walk, we headed over to the little park and the gazebo. Sitting down on one of the benches, my mom told me how glad she was to get outside and walk. We sat looking at the clouds as they moved. And then for some reason, I asked my mom if she remembered when she worked at the hospital in Worcester. “Of course” she said. And then I mentioned when my baby brother Wayne had been in the hospital. “Oh, it was so hard” she said, “he cried and cried” she continued. At that moment, I knew my mom had remembered! She looked at me with eyes that seemed to remember back to when she was a nurse - back to working in “The Manor” that used to stand right where we were sitting! But just as quickly as I saw that moment - - - my mom was asking when lunch would be. “We should probably head there now” I told her. And taking my mom’s hand, we headed back into the home . . .

There is an appointed time for everything. And there is a time for every event under heaven -
A time to weep, and a time to laugh;
A time to mourn, and a time to dance.
A time to love . . .

Pictures & Moments - Treasures to me - - - Three pictures sit in front of me - my mom, my dad, and my Nana. In each picture, I see a moment in time - captured to remember. My Nana and my dad, have both passed away. My mom has a disease that takes her further and further away from all of us. And yet, in just an instant, I can close my eyes and remember a story, a picture in time.

For each of us, there will come a time when we leave this earth. When we do, we leave behind bits and pieces of ourselves in the hearts and lives of those we have loved. Their memories, the stories and pictures of us, will help us to continue to live on - in the lives we have touched here on earth.

A time to laugh . . . A time to dance . . . A time to love . . .

The other evening I was getting a snack for Ted and myself. We like to have sherbet before bed. I scooped out the sherbet in two little bowls, giving Ted a little extra. Then I put the gallon away, taking the scoop over to the sink. Just before I put it in the sink, I licked the extra from the end of the scoop. As I did, the taste seemed to take me back into another time and another place . . .

I was a little girl, eating ice cream with my mom and dad, and my brothers. We had taken a late afternoon drive up to a place called “Dresser Hill”. It was a dairy farm that also had an ice cream stand on it. The farm was way up on a hill, overlooking beautiful pastures and country side. My dad had taken us all for a drive, and that usually meant that we got to pick where we went. And by that, I don’t mean we picked the place we would end up at - I mean we got to pick which way we would turn as we took the winding back roads of the little towns in Massachusetts. As we would come to a stop sign, dad would ask: “left or right?” Robbie and I were usually the loudest, yelling the opposite of the other. Dad would decide who’s turn it was next, and one of us would pick the way he would turn. We would go down winding roads, just taking a drive out in the country. I have to admit, part way through the drive, I would get a little nervous. I was sure we were going to get lost. But we never did! We always seemed to find our way up that hill, and to the ice cream place!

When we got there, mom would always order strawberry. Dad would have coffee ice cream, while Robbie and Wayne would try all sorts of different flavors (although I think Robbie liked coffee too!). But as for me, it was always orange sherbet - and I always loved it . . .

A time to mourn, and a time to dance.
A time to love . . .

Just as quickly as the memory washed over me, it also seemed to fade away. The warmth and happiness from the moment though, seemed to stay with me through the evening. For some reason, I didn’t share the memory with Ted. It just seemed as if that memory was a gift - and I let it melt into the love and joy I felt with my husband. As I fell asleep in my husband’s arms that night, I tucked the memory away - feeling the joy of being loved in my life . . .

The voice of joy and the voice of gladness, the voice of the bridegroom and the voice of the bride, the voice of those who say, “Give thanks to the Lord of hosts, For the Lord is good, For His lovingkindness is everlasting”
(Jeremiah 33:11)

As you walk this road we call life, there will always be moments of saying “goodbye”. But Love never really dies. It lives on in our hearts and souls, and walks with us into the unknown. Hold tight to the hand of God, and know that He is the one who brings love into our lives - and keeps it in our souls - - - forever . . .

God bless you and keep you, until we meet back here again!

In His Love,

Debbie & Ted Ayers