Nana Mama's Joy

  The number of people who “know me” is dwindling. Every year I say goodbye to friends and loved ones who pass away from the Earth. Of course, I continue to meet and become acquainted with new people, but they only know me as the senior citizen I have become…. not the evolution of ‘me’ (good, bad, ugly) over seven decades.   Self-described, I am a God fearing, people loving, decision challenged, picture taking, deal finding, number nerd who likes to write. The thoughts in my head continually collide with one another and writing sometimes allow them to exit (at least temporarily).   Today's thought: 25,263 Days.   Just a few years ago, one of my sons said, “I wanted to figure out when I’d be exactly as old as Dad was when I was born.” Say what?  He continues… “November 13, 2020. That’s the day.” Hmmm. I never thought about that. Little did we know, just 33 days later, his dad would succumb to COVID.   That conversation came back to me this past November (202...

  January 20, 1993 … a day that will live in infamy. Iowa basketball star Chris Street had died tragically the evening before, and the accident was the topic of conversation at work that morning. We barely gave a thought to the weather; however, as noon approached, the talk had turned to words like, “warnings,” “ice” and those two words every working mother dreads to hear, “early dismissal.” At that time in my life at Cornell, I only worked until noon – and as the Chapel bell chimed twelve, I was on my way to a very interesting trip to my Mount Vernon home, nine tenths of a mile from campus. I believe school had let out at 11:30, so I was a bit surprised to see a Mount Vernon school bus at the bottom of 5th Ave. and College Blvd. obviously not going anywhere. I took the opportunity to dodge that obstacle by turning left (east) onto 3rd Street. Immediately I realized that my Aerostar van was no match for the ice-covered pavement beneath it. I slid one way and then another, fortunat...

  Forty years ago today, I was sixteen days overdue with my second child. I was still working half days and in the midst of work, a tenth month of pregnancy and a very active 3.5 year old… I managed to whip up a batch of Christmas sweets each day after Thanksgiving. I’d been “nesting” for weeks and having delivered an eleven pound baby boy my last pregnancy (who was 16 days overdue) I was more than ready to get this show on the road. My OB however, had scheduled a ski trip over Thanksgiving and his parting words from my week overdue appointment were “Good luck, unless I see you when I get back, but I highly doubt it.” Don’t doubt a Clouse baby.  It had been 22 months since my Dad passed away. I had actually hoped the baby would be born on his birthday which was November 30 (due date 11/15). If it was a boy, we would (middle) name him after my Dad. I’d had Braxton Hicks contractions since a week before my due date and the evening of the 29th, we went to the hospital (I didn’t c...

Epilogue: The Wife of Noble Character A wife of noble character who can find? Granddad claimed Grandma for his wife, while in their late teens - they were engaged and married within a few short weeks of each turning 20.      She is worth far more than rubies. I don't know that Grandma had any rubies - but one of her treasures was a very unique mother’s ring. It was all shades of blue – Sapphire, two Aquamarine and Turquoise. (The turquoise was within 24 hours be being a Garnet!) Her husband has full confidence in her      and lacks nothing of value . Granddad’s devotion to Grandma was evident and constant for 67 years. They were among the richest people on the planet – because the things most important are priceless. She brings him good, not harm,      all the days of her life. Grandma was a care-taker and Granddad was always well cared for. In sickness and in health – all the days of his life. Sh...

Six weeks ago, I buried my 85 year old mother.  Since then I have observed Easter, her birthday, and this weekend - Mothers Day, all without her.  I know grief is a process and the "first" everything will be difficult.  I lost my father thirty years ago and for years, I was heavy hearted on those occasions when his presence was so sorely missed.       Mom lived with us for a year before going into a care center for the last seven weeks of her life.  She enjoyed living with us - and though it was hard in many ways, we enjoyed having and taking care of her.  When you think of all our parents did to raise us to adulthood - it seems so logical that we should care for them in the winter of their lives. She suffered from dementia which made things difficult sometimes.      We had those last seven weeks to adjust to Mom not being 'here'.  We had rearranged a few things in the basement apartment where she had...

Today was the opening reception for a new academic year at the College where I work. Annually, the faculty, administration and staff gather for introductions of new members of the campus community and the honoring of employees with continuous years of service (five, ten, fifteen, etc.) Every five years (those ending with a 4 or 9) I am among those who are recognized. I receive a beautiful piece of pottery from a well known campus artist, a round of gracious applause from co-workers and a myriad of congratulations following the assembly. I enjoy the 90 minutes (or less) of attention, mostly because I’ve always been told I couldn’t possibly have worked there that long… ‘You look much too young’; ‘Did you start when you were eight?’ Yada yada yada (who wouldn’t enjoy that?) This year, I noted my 35th year of continuous service to the College. Thirty-five years. People still marvel at my longevity – though few accuse me of breaking child labor laws, probably because I have worked more year...