The Corner of Spirit & Brave

WHOSE HANDS HAVE YOU BEEN GIVEN? by Pennie Hunt

11/26/2021

I have always been fascinated by hands. The chubby hands of an infant. The strong hands of a man. The gentle feeble hands of the elderly.

The power, the history, the stories that are held in the lines and scars of hands. The sanctuary of holding hands around a table of prayer.

Whose hands do you hold? Whose hands comfort you when you are in sadness? Whose hands are thrown up in the joy of celebration when you succeed and pat you on the back with the comfort of encouragement?

When I look at my hands, I see the continuation of my grandmother.
The reflection of her mirrors me with the same fingers, wrinkles, veins, and lines. I see my hands hold the frosting tube the way she did as she taught me to create roses for a wedding cake. I see them cup during meditation the way hers folded for prayer.

The language of hands goes far past waving goodbye, clapping for joy, or the blowing of kisses. Hands go straight to the heart, the head, and the mouth in immediate reaction to cover our pain, our cries, and our sorrows.

Our hands carry impressions of our ancestors; the work they did; the burdens they carried; the imprint of who they lifted and who they pushed down; the strength of who they fought and who they protected; and the love of who they reached for and who they let go of.

Our hands hold the heart-print for generations of the future. The calluses and the gentleness are saved like the treasures we tuck in our pockets, to be reached for and pulled out by new hands. What we feel and have felt lodges in the lifelines of our family palms.

The top of my hands with the wrinkles and veins brings me to a place of respect for the hands that came before me -- who they held and who they loved. The palms of my hands are the soft newness of generations ahead waiting to experience and explore. The spaces between my fingers hold the secrets of the past and the anticipation of the future.

I am careful of what I hold with my hands. Dirt is never completely washed away as my hands melt into the hands of the future. I am intentional with who I hold with my hands as the love will pass forward as a compass for compassion.

My hands are my grandmother’s hands. I guard and cherish my hands with reverence for the past and hope for the future.

Whose hands have you been given?
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Pennie's Life Lesson:
“Our hands carry impressions of our ancestors and heart-prints for generations yet to come."

YOUR TURN...
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Thank you!
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WHO IS IN YOUR HOLIDAY PHOTOGRAPH? by Pennie Hunt

11/19/2021

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It’s that time of year again. You know, the time when you wear color coordinating outfits, sport fresh haircuts, display shiny smiles, and hug each other for that family photo. The photo that goes on the cover of the holiday card that you mail to your friends and family.

Who is in your holiday photograph? Is it a photo of one or a frame for two? Is it the first photo with the new pink or blue bundle that makes you a family of three? Does it include grandparents, cousins, grandchildren, aunts, uncles, and the family dogs and cats? Is it a group picture of your circle of friends?

You may hate this tradition. The matchy-matchy uncomfortable clothes. The inconvenience. The idea of creating a Norman Rockwell portrait of a happy family just isn’t your favorite way of spending an afternoon.

However, think about the people who would give anything to have a family, or even one person, to stand next to and pose for a holiday card. They probably dream of their fantasy family. They can visualize the smiles and feel the love they wish for oozing out of the picture. They dream of who they would love to have in their photograph.

Many of us have lost a loved one we wish were still here to be in the photograph. Some of us have fractured families. Families separated by geography, illness, division, divorce, or death. If it hasn’t happened yet, there will come a time when the family photo changes. There will come a time when grandparents are gone, children move away, and change happens. When this takes place, the photographs of past years become precious possessions. A snapshot of a time that will never happen again. A moment that becomes a memorialized memory.

Right now, if you are lucky enough to have a spouse or family that is planning a family photo shoot and they want YOU in it, stop begrudging it. If no one is planning it, jump in and be the planner for your family or your group of friends. Orchestrate the occasion. Get that haircut. Wear matching colors or crazy sweaters. Stand in front of the holiday tree, cozy up on a couch, or kick up some dirt in an empty field. Cross your fingers that the babies don’t cry, and the dog sits still. Smile the biggest smile you can conjure. Make fun poses. Crazy poses. Be happy. Be joyful. Be proud. Create a memory.

Understand how lucky you are to have someone standing alongside you in a photograph and in life. Understand how lucky you are that someone wants YOU in their holiday photo. Be grateful.
And when next year comes around, do it again.
Pennie’s Life Lesson: “Don’t miss an opportunity to stand with those you love.
Take the photo!”

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MY PATH TO GRACE by Pennie Hunt

11/13/2021

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“Let’s name her SPIKE,” J.T. said with a grin as he dangled a tiny black spiked collar in front of me.
“We are not naming this cute little puppy that will be all of 12 lbs full grown, SPIKE!” I snapped.
My son’s grin told me that was the point- the humor of a tiny fluffy Shih Tzu with a name that conjured visions of an attack dog.

She was named Yogee, and yet even after both my son and Yogee passed away, everyone remembers the Spike story that followed her through her 15+ years.
The sadness of losing a pet after that long opens up a thought process of do we want another dog? Can we handle puppyhood? Did we want the responsibility? When should we think about it- is it too soon? Can we handle saying goodbye in another 15 years?
Loss is hard, but with everything in life, as they say… the beat goes on. The heartbeat of love and life goes on.
I researched Shih Tzu breeders and found three, in three different states. All of them had a detailed process of applications and background checks before they considered the forever homes for their puppies. The waiting lists were 9-12 months, so I filled out the applications and put it out of my mind.

The crazy chain of events that happened next was, I believe, Grace in action! It began with a simple text message from my daughter that read:
Brady just said,
“Yogee is in heaven and Grandma is going to get a new Yogee puppy –on TUESDAY!” Is he correct?
This made me chuckle coming from my 4-year-old grandson. I responded with,
“Well, everything except Tuesday… maybe late summer.”

A few nights later I had a dream that Yogee had puppies next to my bed. The dream was clear, in color, and felt like it was REAL. I reached down and picked up a white and copper brown one – the color I hoped for in my next Shih Tzu. I knew there were other puppies in the dream, but I could only see this one.

Yogee was walking away. I called to her saying over and over again that she needed to come back and take care of the puppies. She just shook her head and kept walking away as if she knew I would do it. The extraordinary clarity of the dream spurred a long conversation with my husband the next morning about what it meant and why Yogee brought a puppy to me – the exact color that I wanted.

couple of days passed, but the comment from my grandson and the dream lodged in my mind. Watching TV one evening, I received an email to my phone from one of the breeders saying she had a female puppy available and wanted to know if I was interested. The picture attached was of a white and copper furball of cuteness. It was her eyes that drew me in. As I stretched the screen on my phone I saw familiar eyes. They were Yogee’s eyes looking deep into my heart. Tears welled and I heard the word, “Grace.”

Not wanting my husband to see my tears, I forwarded the email to him. I waited for his reaction. I saw him enlarge his screen to see the very thing I saw. The eyes.
He looked at me and said, “What are we going to do?”

I didn’t know. We had resigned ourselves to wait and allow the loss of Yogee to settle. To enjoy a bit of freedom without the responsibility of a dog. And yet, the messages were clearly being laid before me. My tears surged with every conversation about this puppy and with every photo the breeder sent.
The messages continued.

We were told this puppy was the runt of the litter. After sleepless nights of caring for the tiny pup and worrying about her ability to survive, the breeder wanted to keep her. Deciding she shouldn’t, she scanned her large waiting list reading the profiles of prospective families, and kept coming back to us.

When we found out that the puppy’s mother was named Beah, I knew. I ran to the scrapbook I had created for Yogee and pointing to the registration papers I showed my husband. Yogee’s mother was named Bea!

We made arrangements to visit the puppy. A sweet woman invited us into her home. She picked up the smallest of four puppies and laid her in my lap. She called her, Emma – mysteriously close to the name of my granddaughter Emmie – the daughter of J.T.my late son.
She said, “There is something special about this puppy. I tell everyone I believe she is an angel.”

The day we adopted her our home filled with joy. We heard the patter of paws running on our floors. We enjoyed snuggles and cuddles and puppy kisses. I was convinced she was brought to us through the mystical process of grace orchestrated by J.T. and Yogee … a process others may not understand or comprehend, but to me it was clear.
We named her Gracie Beah.

The next morning, I took her to my daughter’s home so Gracie could meet her family. As I was leaving I told them all to say goodbye to Gracie. Hugs and kisses irrupted and the last in line was Brady, the one who predicted the arrival of a puppy.

He kissed her, looked in her eyes and said, “Goodbye Spike, Spikie, Spike.”

Stunned, I asked him why he called her that. He had no way of knowing the Spike story. He simply shrugged and said, “I just felt like it.”

My daughter and I smiled at each other.
The last message had been given, and yes, the beat goes on.
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Pennie's Life Lesson: "Pay attention to the magical messages of Grace."
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LET’S TAKE TIME TO CUPCAKE IT! by Pennie Hunt

11/6/2021

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We don’t take time to celebrate. I know, you are thinking – What? We celebrate all the time!

Yes, we break out the ice cream and cupcakes to celebrate birthdays and holidays, but we need to “cupcake” the little things in life.

Do you take time to notice the things you are grateful for? Do you celebrate them?
Every second of every day we are surrounded by things to celebrate. Some are obvious. A promotion at work or the birth of a baby are the green fields for the dance of celebration, but let’s dig deeper.

I don’t think there has been a morning of my life that the sun didn’t rise bringing with it a glorious splash of love and light. That is cupcake worthy!

The first smell of spring, the flower squeezing between two rocks to find the sun, or the smile on the face of an elderly woman as she watches a toddler walk – cupcakeable!

The smell of coffee in the morning, the kiss on the cheek from someone you love, the note from a friend that says they are thinking of you, the tail wagging greeting from your dog and sliding into bed on clean sheet day – yep, cupcake with sprinkles!

Watch for these moments and even sweeter, try to turn frustrating moments into a cupcake moment. It may be a red light that stops you when you are late for an appointment, but what can you celebrate as you take a breath? It may be that the pause that forces you to calm down to take the breath is worth a celebration in itself.

A spring storm may require you to add snow shoveling to your already busy day, but those white snowflakes are crystals of beauty and the moisture will guarantee the green burst of spring in your yard.

Do you see how you can turn frustrations into celebrations?

Now, I’m not suggesting you start baking cupcakes on a daily basis. None of us have time for that and our waistline wouldn’t thank us for it. But imagine a cupcake celebration in your head when these wonderful life moments occur.

Who doesn’t like a party? You can create one just by paying attention to these delightful moments. The mental confetti will spill, the balloons will bounce, the champagne glasses will clink with a “cheers it” as you begin to cupcake the small things in life.

Begin now! Start taking time to celebrate freely.
The month of gratitude has begun. November is the perfect time to celebrate gratitude. Do you take time to notice the things you are grateful for? Do you celebrate them? I call November my month of gratitude. Every day I pick someone, a place, an experience…something I am grateful for. I talk about it, share it on social media, and publicly celebrate gratitude. Join me by celebrating this month of gratitude!
What will you cupcake today?
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Pennie's Life Lesson:
Take time to celebrate the small moments in life – cupcake them!
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WHOSE HANDS HAVE YOU BEEN GIVEN? by Pennie Hunt

WHO IS IN YOUR HOLIDAY PHOTOGRAPH? by Pennie Hunt

MY PATH TO GRACE by Pennie Hunt

LET’S TAKE TIME TO CUPCAKE IT! by Pennie Hunt

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