50 and the Legend continues

Several years ago, our niece came to stay with us for a couple weeks.  My oldest son was into origami big time, and he taught her a few of the easier shapes, most importantly, how to fold the lids and bottoms to make a box.
After she went back home, he decided to mail her a gift.
He folded several boxes, each a little smaller than the next so that they all nested together.  The tiniest one in the very middle was so small that it could hold a single, plain M&M candy.
I believe there were altogether 8 boxes with lids, and then we put those into a sturdy cardboard box for shipping.
I wondered about her going through all those boxes, one after the other, only to come upon one small sweet morsel.
I can’t remember what came of it, those were busy times in the family.  There might be a note of thanks in a box on the shelf of the cupboard, but I’m not opening that door right now.  The last time I did, a knotted bundle of cards fell onto my foot.

Lately I got to thinking about all those boxes, measured and folded exactly, with one inside the other.  My half-century birthday is today, and I feel like all the years and events leading to this day have been fitted together around one spirit waiting to see whatever comes next.

Thinking about those boxes mixes up other history.
I can remember when my sister Darla was sick with bronchitis in the hospital.  There was something to be done downtown, and so Dad tied a cardboard box onto the sled and had me and Denise sitting on it while he pulled us over sidewalks not yet shoveled free of the snow.  Later that day, my mom took my sister Denise and me to stand outside on the sidewalk while our dad went inside and then held the baby up to look out the window.  None of my own sons were ever so sick that we parents had to take turns at the hospital.

And the time when my dad was a patient at the VA hospital in Pittsburgh.  I was 16, and allowed to be a visitor, so I went up to the wing to bring him down to the public waiting room where the younger girls could see him too.  On the way down, the elevator stopped between the fifth and sixth floors.  I used the telephone to call the operator, and the man said I should climb out the escape hatch and go to the upper floor.  I told him that my dad was in a wheelchair and I wouldn’t leave him.
We were in there almost an hour, while mom and my sisters were waiting somewhat impatiently.
Nobody ever mentioned people were stuck in the elevator.

After dad came home on crutches, there was a huge snowstorm.  The snow tires needed to be put on rear of the car.  Kids these days would never know about snow tires.

I went out and got the car up on the jack while dad sat at the dining room window and watched.  Whenever he wanted me to know I should do something different, he would rap his crutch on the glass, I would have to climb the steps, cross the porch, open the door and stick my head in to ask what he wanted.
What a long winter afternoon that was!
When I was finally finished, had rolled the regular tires to the shed and gotten into the house and out of my coat and hat and work gloves, there was a cup of hot cocoa waiting.  The skin on the surface told me he had made it awhile ago, but I had taken a long time to get out of the winter gear.
Later I heard him talking on the phone and telling somebody that “Diane changed the tires on the car.  There’s hope for her yet!”

In 1992, my husband, and his buddy Earl, went up to the Great Lakes on a photography trip.  They were gone a little over a week, but the stories have taken years for the telling.
I was expecting him back late in the afternoon on a Sunday.  That morning, the boys and I went to church services as usual, and during the Fellowship Hour, I was in the library looking at pictures from a recent birthday party of one of the members.
I became aware of someone very close looking over my shoulder at the pictures, but being that it was church, was not at all suspicious.
When I got to the bottom of the pile, I straightened up and turned back to see who had been breathing on my neck.

Oh goodness, it was Husband, and I let out a little shreeek, and as it says in the Bible, ‘fell upon his neck and kissed him’!

One of the other women across the table thought that was a bit much, my reaction and being that he is already my husband, but someone else explained that my mate had been out of town and now he is home safe and sooner than anticipated.
We decided that absence does make the heart grow fonder.
Husband said that the little scene was greatly appreciated, maybe because other folks were watching and know how much love happens with us.

All these memories make up the whole 50 year old me shown here in the picture.

The top I am wearing was purchased for the banquet, but I have worn it to three really fun events in the last month.
Each time brought compliments, even from strangers.
One lady asked where I bought it, but I hesitated to give a prompt answer.
Finally, I said from the Thrift Store.
The tag was the color code for $3.99, but that was half price day for clothes, so I bought it for $2.
A very frugal opportunity for dress up success.
~~love and Huggs, Diane
ps The birthday post from last year tells some of my favorite birthday memories.

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15 Responses to 50 and the Legend continues

  1. Cindy says:

    Happy Birthday!!!

  2. Jay says:

    Happy Birthday! Jay

  3. Bill says:

    Happy Belated Birthday!!!! So sorry this is late, but wanted to wish you Happy Birthday, anyways. I really enjoyed our short-but nice- visit we had at the park. Good pic. of you and me. Bill

  4. Les says:

    Happy B’Day Mrs. D! Just dropped in to say, “Here’s hoping you got everything you’ve wished for.”

  5. Jan W says:

    Diane,

    Happy Birthday (a few days late!)!!! You are such a gifted writer. I loved reading this.

    Janet – soon to be 50 on July 1

  6. MrsDoF says:

    Thank You Everyone!
    It might well have been the coldest birthday I’ve had–weather wise. 52 degrees and raining when we came out of the movie house.
    DoF’s post about A Prairie Home Companion

    A nice laid back weekend, so I hope yours was, too!
    ~~love and Huggs, Diane

  7. Sharkey says:

    Happy belated birthday, Diane! I love reminiscing posts like this one. You look great in your thrifty find!

  8. Webs says:

    Happy 50th, and good luck on the next 50!! 🙂

  9. caroline says:

    Happy Birthday fellow Gemini 🙂
    sorry it’s a little late…i’ve been swamped at work.

  10. Darlene says:

    Happy Birthday Diane!!
    You look very pretty in your beribboned top. Really enjoy your posts.
    Hope your birthday was a happy one.
    Best wishes for a bright year!!

  11. Uzz says:

    Belated Happy B-day from the Uzz! I will hit the big 4-0 in August and trust me…thoughts from my past have been running through my head…I just wish I had someone to share them with. Maybe I’ll meet someone this year for my birthday:-)

    Hope you had a great one and God Bless!

    Uzz

  12. Doris says:

    I love the title of your post 🙂 Yay!

    Happy belated 50th. Reading your memories was like opening one little box after the other and then in the middle instead of an M&M is you! I think that is lovely and perfect.

    Your top looks fab. I wore a lovely dress to a party on Sunday and that too was from a “Thrift” shop though we call them charity shops here in the UK. As well as being a bargain, I found the second hand dresses I bought actually fitted me better than brand new ones and were of a much better quality.

    You look so young in your pic and your essence looks even younger! Congratulations 😀

  13. Laura says:

    Happy Belated Birthday, Diane! Did you ever think you would have a new degree and also find yourself on the verge of starting a new career at the age of 50? You sure do look radiant in that picture. I don’t think anyone would have guessed it is a thrift shop blouse at all.
    Here’s to the next 50 years! 🙂

  14. MrsDoF says:

    Laura, I never thought of making 50 at all! so every day is an adventure….
    When I was 9 years old, I had rheumatic fever. There were a couple days and nights when my dad said he was holding me away from the angels.
    Then I had a drug reaction while in labor with my first son, and woke up in Intensive Care.
    And post-partum depression after the second baby. Whew, that was too close!

    The AA degree is a bonus which I still don’t know what to do with. Thank heaven for a patient husband.