Tag: memories

Old v New

Quilter2 Comments
©jb katke 2025

These mixing bowls are something dear to me. The green and teal ones are all that is left of my mother’s mixing bowl set. I remember her using the full set of four. Social media tells me they are now valuable, something many of the younger generation consider desirable.

When antiquing I am often tempted to purchase what is missing in Mom’s set, but the price keeps me from doing so. If you think prices are high for new items, I’m here to tell you old and used ain’t cheap either.

But that is not the only reason. The large enamel bowl in the picture is part of a set from my grandmother’s kitchen. If I were to complete Mom’s set, I would no longer need Grandma’s set. How many bowls does a person need—when she does not even like working in the kitchen?

Grandma had to work at the kitchen table because her counter was filled to the max. Just as her kitchen was small, so was her table, but one of the chairs was still part way in the doorway to the dining room.

Both my mom’s and grandma’s kitchens were anything but user friendly. Maybe the ‘good ole days’ are not as good as we recall. Convenience was never considered in the design of the home.

With that being said, here we are about to enter a New Year. How was your 2025? It’s interesting how we seem to look forward to the new year when the only difference is the numerals. We are still what we are and circumstances have not changed much, if at all. But there is always hope.

A couple quotes from pastor Charles Swindoll have meant a lot to me: “Life is 10% what happens to you and 90% how you react to it.” Another good one is, “We are all faced with a series great opportunities brilliantly disguised as impossible situations.”

Let’s try to make this New Year better, different—one to remember. Maybe a new you.

A good start could be found in my latest book, Texting From Jesus, Season 1. Devotionals that give a place for the reader to pen their own thoughts are hard to come by. Your welcome. It is available on Amazon, with more seasons to come.  Each day will have a place for you to write to Jesus.  

If you could text him, what would you say?

©jb katke 2025

Thanksgiving Wishes

QuilterLeave a comment
© jb katke

Have you ever had a missed opportunity?

My most recent missed event came from a routine trip to my local Walmart for a few groceries. As I went through the store I found myself behind a shopper dressed in her camouflaged Army uniform.

As I passed her, I hesitated long enough to thank her for her service to our country. Her response stopped me in my tracks. Putting hand to heart, “Thank you for the opportunity to serve.” What a gracious young woman.

How I wished I had noted her name, taken a picture—anything to have further honored this soldier. She deserved it as we find our military, police, and first responders being dragged through verbal mud.

I just don’t think fast enough.

We are in the time of year when lots of thinking is going on. We think of the family member that won’t be at the table this Thanksgiving. We think of the gifts we wish to buy for our loved ones. We think of past holidays—when the kids were little and thought they would never grow up.

They are now and have a life of their own that may not include us. We invested so much of ourselves. Missed opportunities to treasure what we had. But they are adulting, and that is commendable of them.

Would it surprise you to learn that Jesus thinks of you daily? He invested too. In mankind. Jesus knows what it feels like to be left out—as we go about our busy lives. He literally gave us his all, dying for our thoughtlessness.

As our holiday season approaches—do it different this year. Instead of mourning lost opportunities, make the best of what you have. Some have more than others, but we all have the same amount of time.

A portion of this afternoon was spent rummaging through a few family heirlooms. I came across a letter my Aunt Jane wrote to Jesus. Some were words of confession over her unmet past opportunities—but in the bottom line of her wishes—she asked for wisdom to live out the rest of her life seeking his direction on how to spend her remaining days investing in others.

I share her sentiment and hope you give it consideration too.

Have a happy and blessed Thanksgiving

Memory Lane

Quilter2 Comments

Returning to our home state is a walk down memory lane. So many places to go and people to see. More so this trip than the others. What took us back to Michigan was a fifty-five-year class reunion. It was determined that Dave and I were married the longest. Or should I say we married the youngest?

We saw people all right, ones that we mostly didn’t recognize. It was a bittersweet evening. Ribbons with photos of classmates no longer with us. One in particular I was anxious to reconnect with, not to be, she entered her eternal home. Joining us at our dinner was a classmate that knew and remembered me more than I did him. That can be a little disconcerting.

While there we made the routine trip visiting our past homes. Where Dave grew up, where I grew up, where our children grew up. I don’t miss the homes as much as I miss the trees. They are everywhere, shielding us from bright sunny days. This time, the skies were mostly overcast. Another thing I miss, cloudy skies.

©jb katke

As we gawked at the home of my grandparents, we got to speak with the new owner. The home has never looked so good. New homes have taken the place of Grandpa’s fruit trees.

The unexpected perk in visiting my brother was receiving drawings our mother did that I had never seen before. Mom was a gifted artist. She could have made a living from them had she pursued that avenue. Instead, her time was invested in my father and us kids. One time she confided that she should not have married. Housekeeping was not her forte.

She had too many interests to be concerned what our home looked like. Knitting, I am certain I have a tablecloth she crocheted, piano and her artwork. Those things fed her soul, just as seeing the trees fed mine. What feeds your soul?

There is beauty in the world if we look for it. Either in the nature Jesus created for our pleasure or the activities that bring joy.

There were more pleasures in our travel that I will share at a later time. Stay tuned.

In Memory

Quilter2 Comments
© jb katke

Memorial Day is fast approaching—bringing any sort of memories to the surface. Growing up in my parents home, we always loaded up the car with flowers and a modest picnic fare, traveling north to Sowles Cemetery. 

The trip was not long, but took up the day. It was an extended weekend designed give honor to those who died defending our country. The family cemetery held deceased relatives, but none to my knowledge served in the military. Those that did serve were buried elsewhere.

Originally, Memorial Day was known as Decoration Day. That description was more in keeping with what Mom and Dad did. Bringing clippers to trim around the graves and planting flowers, Geraniums come to mind. The graves were the final resting place of both my parents grandparents. People I never knew but were real to my folks.

After marriage, Dave and I never followed that tradition. But there are other ways that show honor. In my personal calendar I mark both the birth and death dates of those I love—bringing them to mind at least a couple times a year.

Something I learned about the guards of the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier is certainly commendable. There are numerous rules and regulations that I will not go into. But will share what took place in 2003. Hurricane Isabelle was making her way to the DC area. In the gearing up preparation for the coming storm, the House and Senate relieved duty of the guards. Only they would not hear of it, “No way,” was their response. In the midst of that storm, the guards endured getting soaked to the skin with pelting rain and high winds. They said, “Being assigned to the Tomb was not just an assignment, it is the highest honor that can be afforded to a serviceperson.”  

That, my friend, is showing respect.

Recently, in reading some of the Good Book, I learned of yet another way of showing honor. Back in the day of course. When an important event or interaction between two people (or nations) took place, stones would be laid as a monument. It was erected as a means of remembrance of what took place. Children that were not present at the time would learn the history and importance of the event.

What about right now—how could one make a personal memorial for others to see? Here is one suggestion. Make a timeline. Draw a long line on paper—start with the day of your birth. Continue on making x’s or a dot wherever something eventful took place. Give the date and event. Note when your parents died and from what, the day President Kennedy was assassinated, when man landed on the moon—as well as personal stuff, wedding, children. You get the idea.

As grandparents, we have witnessed a few things. It will give the grandchildren something to learn from you. Meaningful communication is never a bad thing.

By the way. The above photo is of my husband who served our country, but has not died in so doing. He remains with me still today!

The Darndest Thing

Quilter2 Comments
© jb katke

The darndest thing happened as I sat down at the computer to tell you all about Betsy McCall. She was a doll my mother insisted I have—when I was pretty much done playing with dolls.

I started to tell the story of how she came to be in our family. Today  she is a sorry sight. Sorrier than I realized. When I went to the drawer I knew her to be in, she was gone. At some point in time, I must have put her in a very safe place that I cannot locate now.

The hunt for her continued. Looking high and low to no avail. That is when the darndest thing happened. Remembering some storage boxes we have yet to unpack I found a little souvenir our great grandchildren left for me to play with from Thanksgiving. These little cars. 

If I hadn’t been searching for Betsy, I would never have known the cars were here for me to enjoy. I never did find Betsy’s torso. She is a little worse for wear as my own girls were interested in a doll from mom’s childhood. Bit by bit, she came apart. All I could find is one of her legs.

Poor Betsy, she is lurking around somewhere. No doubt I will find her when I am looking for something else. That is usually the way things go, isn’t it?

The method to Mom’s madness was a secret to me. But the day after our little shopping trip, mom pulled out a sewing pattern to make clothes for Betsy. That is when I learned to sew. It helped fill my otherwise long lonely summer. There were no playmates in my neighborhood.

Such memories. Mom had made me a cardboard ‘house’ complete with furniture. The box bit the dust still in my childhood. The bed she made is intact, but was unable put my hands on the crocheted bed cover. Maybe another blog another day Betsy can enjoy the sunshine in her claim to fame.

Just for kicks, what were some of your childhood memories? Let’s go down memory lane together.

Here we Are Again

Quilter2 Comments
© jb katke

Every year, about this time memories kick into gear. Valentines Day.

So many past reflections of Valentines. Remember the sweet sentiments our children brought home from school mandated by the teacher? Perhaps too, the child returning home, broken hearted over the coveted valentine that never came by a certain person.

It’s nice to have a home where we are accepted and tears can flow freely.

One Valentines Day in particular was an oops. As my daughter and I were talking a woman unlocked our door and entered with her arms full of cleaning gear.

“Marge?”

“No, you must have the wrong house.”

Thinking he had arranged a treat for me, I called Dave at work. He laughed at the situation. Still today, I fail to see the humor. Some stranger had a key to our home.

Why oh why, did I not let her go about her business?

Many moons ago, I experienced that aforementioned broken heart. My job as receptionist was to accept and distribute all the beautiful incoming flowers the privileged employees were receiving from their loved one. None for yours truly, I felt special to no one. Oh yes, I regret to admit, Dave heard about it. He hasn’t made that mistake again. He has become more vocal in how much I mean to him. Expressed love was all that I needed.

That experience taught me something. What about widows? They have memories of expressed love they no longer hear. The following year, the only year, I rectified that. A friend of mine, a kind and gentle woman who was now working to support herself. Money was tight and I imagine her life had taken a hit at losing her husband. Having a tight budget ourselves, I purchased a few flowers, put them in a small vase and took them to her place of employment.

She was surprised and touched by my thinking of her. We have since lost touch with each other. Man, I wish I was better at staying in touch with friends! If my words resonate with you, bringing an individual to mind, I hope you do something special for them. Lifting up another brings smiles to both your faces.

About that feeling loved thing. We are. Look into the reflection in your mirror. Our Creator thought enough about each individual on the face of this earth to bring us into being. That’s a lot of thinking folks. We need each other and we need him.

Happy Valentines every day.

A Basket Case

QuilterLeave a comment
© jb katke

Some may call me a basket case; that’s okay, I’ve been called worse.

Out of the bunch, I think only two have been purchased. The rest were either given to me or I inherited. It makes no difference; I love them all.

In a previous life I made one. I learned enough that I won’t be doing that again. It takes work, space and skill. Another rightfully belongs to my daughter, Naomi. She made it at a long-ago summer camp. To date, she has not been bitten by the basket bug to make any more.

They may have been useful in their day. Apparently the day is over.

Baskets are not all I inherited. My hutch residing in the dining room is chock full of dishes and tea cups that I never asked for. On Facebook I have noted that a china hutch is no longer desirable. That day is over too.

Every once in a while someone will repost that notice that I have quit reading. There was more to the list of undesirables that I house as well.  What does a person do that has all these reminders of family members that moved to their eternal home?

Some things I use today fondly recalling my Grandma Andrews standing at her kitchen table busy at work with her enamel mixing bowl. Or drying dishes with my mothers antiquated dish towels that are not nearly as useful as the new ones available today. Thinking of these two women and their ‘tools’ of the trade bring me joy.

It has been said, ‘You can’t take it with you.’ How I wish some of the stuff could have gone with them!

All that being said, I learned my granddaughter, Willow, loves antiques. It thrills the very cockles of my heart that I might be able to dump some of my junk on her! I mean give it to her if she has interest.

A few years ago, we went antiquing together with her Boo when I learned of her love for vintage. Going through the store, I thought, “Good grief girl, you could shop at my house free of charge!”

I since then have given it more thought; she may be more into the Mid-century modern. At some point I’m going to have to inform her that’s not antique. It may be old and trending, but it was ugly then and ugly now.

Oops! An opinion just slipped out. I will have to administer grace to all Mid-century lovers, just as you will have to extend grace that my home looks like that of an old woman.

There is nothing wrong with making your home a place of joy as long as we keep in mind this place is not our eternal home.

I’m betting if we can dump the junk in preparation for that final move; family will be most grateful.

Halloween Memories

QuilterLeave a comment

What makes Halloween memories so great?

We had some good times that included candy, that’s why. Perhaps glad there are no do-overs? My past Octobers used to be filled with sewing costumes. I don’t miss it. Michigan Halloweens come cold. There had to be enough room under the costume for a winter coat.

Another factor, which I don’t share, is getting scared out of your wits. That has never been pleasurable, real life has enough blood-curdling thrills. Consider today.

I hope I am not too late with this message.

If you have been listening to news lately, there are many concerns about Fentanyl entering our country in various forms, one of which is candy. Many are frozen in fear of their children falling victim to this deadly drug.

The fear is not new. When my children were young, there was a scare at this same time of year concerning needles and razor blades found in candy and apples. That and this Fentanyl deliberately placed in the hands of innocent children makes anyone’s blood grow cold.

What can a parent do when children cannot go out Trick or Treating? In the eyes of small people, this is not an option. Parents want their kids to be safe, to have a good time, and make memories to look back upon.

There is an option I will share.

The mothers in my neighborhood threw a party. Instead of going door to door, we decided the safest bet was providing a different memory. This was not an easy task for yours truly, who is not a party animal.

Desperate times call for desperate measures. One mother offered her yard. It was an ideal setting backed up to a park bearing spooky trees at night, complete with wind blowing through them. All of us volunteered homemade treats; we had to make a large quantity to compensate for not begging candy from the home of strangers. At least we knew what was there and that all food was safe for consumption.

Games were planned and the kids all seemed to have a great time. Most of all though, we mothers could take a sigh of relief knowing our kids were not going to be a statistic of a death related to this foul play.

That’s what loving parents do. Provide stability in fearful times, showing a different way of having fun, keeping innocent ones safe. Just like Jesus did. He showed a different way of life, provided a safe place to live.

And fun. It doesn’t have to have an evil intent.

Post T-day Memories

QuilterLeave a comment

 © jb katke

We have wrapped up another Thanksgiving Day for the memory book. Like every year, this one was different. Silly me, I thought the energy of the day was in all the prep work of the house and food. Not so, it’s keeping up with the little people in the family.

I learned my great-grandchildren are a bigger treasure than I realized. They bring life to the party and a new way to play games. Six-year-old Josie and I sat down to play a Bingo game. We were each playing by differing rules; she explained, “GG I think you are playing the right way, but that is not the way I play the game.” Such tact and insight from one so young.

Matthew found Nana cleaning up in the kitchen. But he wanted to play with her. “I’ll tell you what, you help me in the kitchen, then we will play, ok?” He agreed and was quite the little helper, never minding his clothes getting sopping wet in the process of rinsing dishes.

Aunt Naomi disappeared. Little Teddy found her for us. Not quite talking yet he stood outside the bedroom door pointing into the room. “Yes Teddy, that is my bedroom where I go nigh-night.” Placing his little finger up to his lips, motioning me to shush. There she was stretched out on the bed taking a catnap. Proving to me he was sensitive enough to be quiet when someone is trying to sleep. 

My youngest granddaughter, Emily, had agreed to a shopping trip with me. I learned she is in to antiques and all things old. A girl after my own heart! Initially we were after a bookcase, but that got taken care of by a friend. She’s becoming a reader, oh happy day! But it seems some home décor was also needed.

To the antique flea market we went, with boyfriend in tow. I thought maybe to keep her from spending too much, but no. He’s into old stuff too…my heart is full. What fun it is to (finally) have a young member of the family desiring heirloom things. She probably could have gone shopping in my home and saved some money. The two of them made this old lady very happy.

Families. Sometimes we think we think there is no living with them. In reality we cannot live without them. They are capable of bringing both tears of pain and joy, but the love is worth it all. Its been said we can choose our friends but something as important as kin are up to the Lord. He knows the personalities needed for us to expand and grow.

Most importantly, to hand the ones we treasure over to Jesus when we are helpless to make sense of awkward situations. Only he can do that; I can vouch to you it will all be good. Not just for you, but will bring added respect to Jesus. Then you too, can become the voice of experience spreading the good news to others that need hope. The Christmas season a prime time to do that.

Gratitude Attitude

Quilter2 Comments

The upcoming holiday season has all the makings of being different, just like last year was. Changes are part of life. The part of life I don’t like. It runs along the line of kids not coming home for Thanksgiving. Or the death of a loved one leaving an empty chair at the table will always bring a heart wrenching ache.

Many Thanksgivings ago, a group of our friends joined in making a basket for a less fortunate family. One of the women had the idea of using a laundry basket; a homemaker never has too many of those. We had a good time meeting up at the local grocer to select foods to place in it.  There was ample room for the turkey and all the trimmings.

Imagine our surprise when delivering this; to learn the family had no oven! We had the good fortune that one of our kids worked at an appliance store, making it possible for us to throw in a few dollars and provide that as well. I think the Indians had a saying something along the line of you can’t know what someone is going through until you walk a mile in their moccasins.

As you comb your mind, desperately seeking ways to make things festive, remember two this. Things could always be worse, and don’t forget to be grateful. Retail stores barely acknowledge Thanksgiving. Your thoughts will bring all sorts of memories to mind that could easily be overlooked. The near miss of an accident, the ability to pay your bills, or maybe being thankful you have an oven. An attitude of gratitude doesn’t focus on the have nots, just the haves.

This year decreased availability of items as prices go up in everything imaginable is a recipe for a stressful season. I urge you to take stock of what you do have. Have you seen the pictures of Christmas trees made of books? Lots of us have excess books, put them to work!

Let your creative juices flow. If you’re lacking in that, check out Pinterest, it seems to be teeming with projects. Tap into the people you know that love to work with their hands. Or, try shopping in the local mom and pop markets; they may cater services that Walmart doesn’t. For some time now I have heard we should check them out, too many have succumbed to the pandemic crisis. They struggle to make ends meet too and will thank you for the support.

Praise to the good Lord above that we still have options.