 I remember the clock. It looked like oak. It wasn’t. It was supposed to be a reminder of the time. Time to get up, time to eat, time to watch a favorite tv show, or time to go to bed. But for my Dad, it was a count down. A countdown of every hour, minute, and second that he continued to live. He would sit in his lazy boy starring at the clock as it ticked away what life he had remaining. When you are dying and know you are dying big things seem small and small things seem big. He was grateful for a clean sheet on his chair and the way he felt after a shower - a small thing. But the process of standing, shuffling to the bathroom, and maneuvering his oxygen tube around him as he sat on the shower stool seemed big. One day we were waiting for the doctor to arrive. A car ride to the doctor’s office had become more than he could handle. For the doctor to stop on his way home to check on him was a small effort, but big for my dad. The clock ticked. My dad watched the clock. I watched my dad. My mom watched me. The doctor opened the door and brought the fresh air of the outside in with him disrupting the stuffy stagnant smell that stillness, fear, and illness creates. He also brought a smile, compassion, and hope. After listening to my dad’s lungs and heart, checking blood pressure, and asking the routine questions, my dad said he had something he was worried about. With weak shaking hands my dad reached to unbutton his pajama top. The doctor helped him. Pointing to his chest my dad located a crusty scabby looking circle. Between the sound of the tube sucking oxygen, my dad explained that he didn’t know what the sore was, and it had just appeared quickly. He was concerned. The doctor reached for the nearby reading light pulling it over my dad’s chest. My mom stood on one side of my dad’s chair and I stood next to the doctor. All three of us leaned in to scrutinize the mysterious growth. What was it? A new complication brought on by this disease? Something more dangerous? We all held our breath. The doctor hmmmm’d and said, “This is interesting. It looks like.... it looks like.....” Then the doctor put his thumb and middle finger together and flicked the mysterious mass as if it was a bug. It flew across my dad’s chest. “It looks like oatmeal.” The doctor said. For the first time in many weeks, laughter erupted. My mom clapped her hands together. I wiped tears away as I held my stomach to stop the ache that comes from deep belly laughs. The doctor let his laughter roar and the oxygen machine was spastically trying to keep up with the strain of my dad’s sudden need for more as he struggled to laugh. It was just oatmeal. A small innocent dribble of oatmeal from my dad’s breakfast that had crusted to form a mysterious mass- a big mysterious mass. Sometimes big things seem small and small things seem big and it may just be oatmeal. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Pennie’s Life Lesson: “During the most intense, trying times of life big things seem small and small things seem big.” ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ YOUR TURN...
I shared this with you to encourage you to think about how you see events in your life. Are they big or small? Important or simple? Share your thoughts and experiences relating to this post in a comment below. And please feel free to email me at: [email protected]. Thank you! ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ All Rights Reserved Copyright © 2013-2019 Pennie Hunt This was written and produced by Pennie Hunt. Feel free to forward and share this post. Please keep the entire message intact, including contact, logo, and copyright information.
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 Can you describe yourself in three words? How do you see yourself? How do you believe others see you? When I was asked these questions I thought of words like Mom, Grandmother, wife, speaker, writer, but I wanted better words. wanted words with more grandeur. I wanted words that carried with them not just a superficial description of looks or my job(s) in life, but a feeling, a purpose and a mission. After weeks of rolling this idea through every wrinkle of my mind and struggling to create a short list of three, I decided I wasn't the most reliable person to ask. I wanted to know how I was doing and if others would give me a passing grade or if I needed to study harder and practice more in order to be described in the way I hoped. So, I sent out this email: Hello, I am working on a project and wonder if you would take a second to help me out. It is easy - all I need you to do is send me a few adjectives that you'd think of to honestly describe me. You can send me three or twenty or as many you wish to share, but make it easy for you. No, this isn't one of the silly email "forwards" -- I really am working on a project. Thank you so much in advance for doing this! Pennie This is not an exercise for the faint of spirit. As I hit the send button, bubbles over my head began filling with words I wouldn't like. What if the responses were negative? What if they were less than flattering? What if no one responded; what would that mean? But there it was, heading through the mysteries of the Internet and landing smack in the middle of 100 computer screens! I sent it to close friends and to acquaintances. I sent it to family members. I sent it to people who see me daily and ones who hadn't seen me in 10 years. I sent it to those who I was confident would say glowing things and I sent it to those who I feared might not. From young adolescent friends of my son to legislators, they held my life image at their computer keyboards. I waited. The first response came in minutes, others came weeks later. They came in clusters of pings to my computer and in single messages late in the night. They came in short emails with just three words. They came in lists of adjectives depicting my impression on them with long elaborations of why they chose the words they did. The fear of what would be given me as the mirror of myself became a life opening experience. I was humbled by the response as an ultimate washing of appreciation and love came through in the words given to me. Some made me laugh. Some made me cry. Some made me cry more. Only three people asked me why I wanted to know. It didn’t seem to matter. They just responded. I created a spread sheet to track the words. Repeated words were given a tally mark. The spreadsheet grew with a list of 197 words. Very quickly 13 words began creating a pattern of repetition. The top three winners were Caring, Thoughtful, and Kind. These were followed closely with Compassionate, Honest, and Loving. What a lesson I had learned! These are simple words, but I realize these are my words of grandeur; my words of feeling, purpose and mission. These are my words to live by. Now, I have a standard to uphold. This is how others see me and I don’t want to let them down. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Pennie's Life Lesson: When you create a standard of compassion, kindness and love to live your life by- you will receive compassion, kindness and love from others. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ YOUR TURN...
I shared this with you to encourage you to think about how you see yourself AND how others see you. Is it the vision you want? Share your thoughts and experiences relating to this post in a comment below. And please feel free to email me at: [email protected]. Thank you! ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ All Rights Reserved Copyright © 2013-2019 Pennie Hunt This was written and produced by Pennie Hunt. Feel free to forward and share this post. Please keep the entire message intact, including contact, logo, and copyright information. In honor of Mother's Day, I am sharing this "Pennies From The Past" about my Mom. I wrote this in 2013 when The Fernster was 82. And now, at almost 88, my amazement, respect and love for my Mom grows with each year. Happy Mother's Day to The Fernster!  Pennie and The Fernster May 2019. I can still hear my Dad say, “Oh, Fern,” as she began one of her stories. He called her Fernie Annie. Her nickname is The Fernster. Elsie Fern Tutewiler Hunt – yes, that is her name. To me she is Mom and yet, she is more than any of those names. Growing up I remember her as the family organizer, the child wrangler, the disciplinarian, and the choreographer of our life. She was a working Mom when most were home watching soap operas and creating meals from the Betty Crocker Cook Book. She worked hard and expected the same from others. Thinking about the Fernster, I began to wonder who she was before me, before the years of motherhood and responsibility wrapped around her. I looked at some pictures of her in younger days. I saw the impish smile of a child and imagined her laugh. I saw the hair of a young woman flow around her physical presence – self-assured, happy and carefree. I realized that stepping back from the Mom I've always loved I could look deeper to see a whole person. Years before her title of Mom, there was a woman filled with spirit, determination and dreams, eager to experience this world. The Fernster is almost 82 now and slowing down a bit. Her eyesight a little less focused, her hearing and memory a little muffled, yet her spirit and spunk remain intact. Now I see the whole person wrapped with memories of a life lived, people loved and experiences had. And yet, the spark of that young woman still burns with spirit, determination and enthusiasm for life ahead. The Fernster. Fernie Annie. Elsie Fern Tutewiler Hunt. Yes, to me she is Mom and yet, she is more than any of those names. I value her not only as Mom, but as a whole person she is. I love her so -- the person she was before me and the person she is today with me. Oh Fern, keep telling those stories. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Pennie's Life Lesson: “Step back to see the ones you love as a whole person!” ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ YOUR TURN...
My intent in sharing this with you is to help you see all the people in your life as much more than who they are now to you... look at all of their titles, their life experiences, their hopes and dreams. See them as the 'whole' person they are! Share your thoughts and experiences relating to this post in a comment below. And please feel free to email me at: [email protected]. Thank you! ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ All Rights Reserved Copyright © 2013-2019 Pennie Hunt This was written and produced by Pennie Hunt. Feel free to forward and share this post. Please keep the entire message intact, including contact, logo, and copyright information.  At 19 I jumped in the front seat of the craziest, scariest most exhilarating roller coaster ride of my life. BAM! I Became AMom! I was mature, smart and ready to take on the world. (Weren’t we all at 19?) Little did I know that being a mom would be the most rewarding, life changing, ride I would ever jump into. And jump I did, not once but four times. Everyone watched me do it. And no one warned me about what was ahead – the ups, the downs, the jerks, the curves and the whiplashing shocks. My own mother didn’t even hold up the“CAUTION PROCEED WITH CARE”sign! She never told me the BAM of Being A Mom was a life jolt. She never told me the secrets. She never told me that being a mom opens your heart to a love that you could never imagine. The birthing and cutting of a physical umbilical cord that attaches you human-to-human in no way cuts the invisible golden cords that attach you heart-to-heart. Their body may birth to the world an independent being, but a piece of this new soul is forever kept inside and connected toyou. She never told me that being a mom makes you vulnerable in a way you have NEVER been before. You open yourself to being dropped to your knees by your child’s tears, broken hearts and disappointments. Their pain is your pain. She never told me that being a mom means you will never sleep again. Well, never the same way you slept prior to the BAM. You may be prepared for the first months of sleep deprivation caused by night diaper changes and bottles that will soon pass. What you aren’t ready for is the rest of your life sleeping with one ear half open to hear their cries from a nightmare, moans from a fever and footsteps as your teenager sneaks in the house passed curfew. What you don’t know is long after they have grown and moved out of your home you will sleep with a part of your heart open hoping they are safe, happy and loved. You will never sleep fully again. She never told me that being a mom is a 24 hour, 7 day a week, forever occupation. No vacation days, no sick leave and no quitting! Once you accept the position you are locked in heart, mind and soul – FOR LIFE! **She never even whispered that it is a job you will love with all of your heart – and some days you won’t. On those days, you will peak at their sleeping faces and then wrap yourself in a cocoon of guilt and shame for allowing yourself to hate the job you love. She never told me that being a mom brings you trophy words like Pride, Joy and Happiness that you can hang on your wall in an expression of motherhood. It also brings you words like Anger, Hurt and Exhaustion that, in an attempt to hide your fear of inadequacy, you swallow and tuck in your belly hiding them so no one sees. She never told me that being a mom makes you strong enough to endure the unthinkable. You take on the risk of being told the baby you carry no longer has a heartbeat and you must be strong enough to walk out of the hospital carrying an empty blanket. You take on the risk of birthing, nurturing and loving your child for years and then receiving the phone call that they are gone. In both cases holding tightly to the golden cords that now reach to your angel child. She never told me that being a mom makes you understand that you will be joyous when your daughter is grown and has children of her own. You will watch through tears and laughter as she learns for herself, the unspoken secrets of being a mom. Looking back I would tell that naïve, 19 year old girl, who thought she knew it all, to jump. Jump with all the love, anticipation and joy she has because through all the ups and downs being a mom is the most amazing ride she will ever be on. And through it all she will learn the unspoken code of never saying out loud the secret lessons of Being A Mom. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Pennie’s Life Lesson: “Mom’s are the gentle holders of our hearts. Hold theirs in return.” ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ YOUR TURN...
My intent in sharing this with you is to encourage you to understand the ultimate love that goes in to being a MOM! Love yours today!!! Share your thoughts and experiences relating to this post in a comment below. And please feel free to email me at: [email protected]. Thank you! ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ All Rights Reserved Copyright © 2013-2019 Pennie Hunt This was written and produced by Pennie Hunt. Feel free to forward and share this post. Please keep the entire message intact, including contact, logo, and copyright information. |
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