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OUR FIRST CRUISE

11 Nov

SUNDAY MEMORIES

 Judy Wills

 

                                                   

Have you ever been on a cruise?  It’s one of the delights of our life…..now.

I thought I would NEVER get Fred on a cruise.  You see, when his family was moving from California to Japan in the 1950’s, they traveled on a troop ship, and it took 21 days to get there, which included three long stops at islands along the way.  Not only was it a long trip, but Fred was unable to stay with his family – not enough room in the staterooms.  So he had to bunk with the sailors.  He slept on the top bunk of a three-tier set of bunks, with his face only inches away from the ceiling.  He also had to do some of the “chores” that the sailors had to do – polishing the brass, swabbing the decks, etc.  It was NOT a fun trip for him!

And so, whenever the subject of a cruise came up, he was almost violently opposed to the idea!  The rest of his siblings – and his parents – had been on many cruises and raved about how much fun they had.  Fred wouldn’t even consider it.

As his parents began to age, they decided to take two more major trips, and invited the children to join them.  The first was a trip to England/Scotland.  We jumped at the chance, since we had lived in Europe for six years, and hadn’t been back.  And England is one of our favorite places to visit.

The second trip was a cruise to Alaska.  As it turned out, it was a three-day cruise, with the remainder of the trip being by bendy-bus (articulated bus) and train.  With my womanly wiles, I cajoled him:  It’s only THREE DAYS CRUISING…..it will give you a “taste” of what cruising is like….. It’s only THREE DAYS CRUISING…..we’ve always wanted to go to Alaska, and this is a great chance to go with family……It’s only THREE DAYS CRUISING……it’s in the summer…. It’s only THREE DAYS CRUISING …..etc.

I was finally able to win him over with those reasonings, and we signed up.

We had a grand time.  Both of Fred’s sisters and their husbands were able to sail with us, as well as our oldest daughter and her husband – 10 of us all together.  The cruising was so much fun – for land-lubbers like us, it was a wonderful experience.  I wished we could have sailed more than just those three days.

But for just a “taste” of cruising – we both were sold.  We’ve been able to go on a cruise nearly every year since then.  And Fred is always asking…would you like to sail to Alaska again?  In a heartbeat!

 

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The Ring

4 Nov

SUNDAY MEMORIES

 Judy Wills

 I have always loved jewelry.  I guess I come by that honestly – after all, I am female!My Mother’s only sibling, my Aunt Jessie, was what we used to call an “old maid.”  She never married, and her mother, my grandmother, lived with her.  And because Jessie didn’t have children of her own, she rather doted upon my brother and myself.  Most of the time that was a good thing….sometimes it got me into trouble with my parents.

But Jessie had a love of “things” – and jewelry was one of those things.  She and Granny lived in San Antonio, Texas for many years, and I know that she would frequent some of the pawn shops there and buy beautiful rings at bargain prices.  I think that’s where she acquired most of her jewelry, as she didn’t inherit it.

When I was one-year-old, she gave me a ring with a small diamond in it.  I really don’t understand that logic – a diamond ring to a one-year-old?  I’m sure that my Mother never let me wear it!  Perhaps it was just a “posterity” thing.

Jessie made friends with an Army nurse while in San Antonio.  In the 1950’s this friend was stationed in Korea, during the Korean war.  While there, she purchased a pearl ring that she gave to me.  I actually did wear that one.  And somehow, that ring was damaged.  The pearl was intact, but the ring was a mess.  So Jessie took both the pearl and the diamond rings.  She showed me a design that she had in mind, to combine the diamond and pearl into one ring.  It was a rather intriguing design.

And before long, she had the ring in hand, and it was on my finger.  I’ve had the ring since the early 1960’s, and it is a favorite of mine.  I enjoy wearing it a lot, knowing she had it made, just for me.

After Jessie and Granny moved to Albuquerque, New Mexico, she became enamored with turquoise jewelry.  And she loved all things turquoise – in any design.  And she loved BIG turquoise jewelry.  Big and heavy.

She always wore a lot of turquoise jewelry, but she never lost her love of the “finer” jewelry.  She had favorites that she wore a lot.

I am pleased to say that my Aunt Jessie and I both shared a love of jewelry, and she gave hers to me in her will.  And so, every time I wear jewelry that is from her, I think of her…remember her.

She, herself, was a jewel in my life.

 

 

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Grandpa

28 Oct

 

SUNDAY MEMORIES

Judy Wills

 

                             

I don’t remember much about my Mother’s father – just glimpses, since he died when I was only five-years-old.  But I’ve heard many stories about him.

I know that he was a little over 10 years older than his wife, my Granny.  They married in 1909, and their first child, my Aunt Jessie, arrived in July 1910, with my Mother making her appearance in 1913.

Jessie told me once that, if they (the girls) ran around the house with just their undies on, Grandpa would swat their bottom as they passed, with the words, “better get some clothes on, sister!”

 

They lived in many places within Kansas and Texas, and he had several occupations that I know of.  I know that he was a carpenter at one point in time.  He built many footstools, stools, corner tables and children’s chairs out of empty spools of thread in his spare time, for the family.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

See, Granny, Jessie and Mother all worked at the Rochester Handkerchief Factory in San Antonio, Texas for many years.  That company used many, many spools of thread in the business, all wound on wooden spools.  I guess he just couldn’t stand for anything to go to waste, and so those three ladies brought home the empties.  While the children’s chairs have been given away, we in the family still have the footstools, end tables, and the corner table.  They may not be very valuable in monetary terms, but they each hold great sentimental value to us all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

One other job he held was that of mortician (funeral director/embalmer).  I only know one story about that time, and it was told to us by Mother.  Seems that a very young girl had burned to death.  When her body was brought to him to prepare for the funeral and burial, the family was extremely distraught.  He worked all night long, peeling that burned flesh from her body, until only pink skin was left.  They said she looked like her normal self!  The family was unbelievably grateful to my Grandpa for taking the time to make her beautiful for them.

He was an interesting man.  I wish I had known him longer.

 

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The Tablecloth

21 Oct

Sunday Memories

 Judy Wills

I love to crochet.  I mean I REALLY LOVE to crochet!

I remember my grandmother crocheting, and my mother, and I loved the “granny square” afghan they made with those multi-colored squares surrounded by black.  But I actually taught myself to crochet.  I took lessons to learn to knit, but nothing fit!  Even if I made a sample gauge, the finished product never fit!  But give me a crochet hook and I was good to go!

I made several “twin” outfits for our daughters that they loved to wear.  I made baby “capes” with hoods for new babies.  I taught international women to crochet, as part of their English Language learning process at our church.  In later years, my favorite thing to crochet was an afghan – shell stitch.  I could do that and watch TV both at the same time.  Didn’t realize they would now call it “multi-tasking.”

My husband is one of four children.  Each married and had two children of their own (one broke mold and had a third child).  When all our children were young, we drew names (families) for giving Christmas presents to each other’s families.  The year we moved from Texas to Florida, it was our turn to give to my husband’s brother and his family.  His wife and I had become good friends and shared many passions.  One was crocheting!  She was a whiz at crochet.  She could whip out a sweater in no time!  But she used large hooks and thick yarn.  I wracked my brain for something to give her.  I knew that anything I made (sewed/crocheted), she could do as well or better.  And then I had an idea!  She would never take the time to crochet a tablecloth for herself, using the thin cotton thread needed for that project.  She had a lovely antique pedestal table with a round top.  Perfect!

So I began my project, knowing it would take a while to complete.  I had a pattern for a pinwheel motif that was just right.

I worked and worked on it, taking it with me everywhere.  On our move that summer, we stopped by their house in Indiana for a few days.  After a while, I ran out of things to work on, and drug out the thread and hook.  When she asked me what I was working on, I told her it was her Christmas present.  She was absolutely overjoyed!

From that point on, it became a labor of love for me…..knowing she would enjoy that adornment for her table…..knowing I made it just for her…..and hopefully enjoying the workmanship that went into it.

I don’t know whether or not she still has that tablecloth, but I made one for myself and enjoy using it.  It looks quite different from a pinwheel when put together, but I like the looks of it, even now.

What do you think?

Romans 8:28

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Kitty

14 Oct

MEMORIES

Judy Wills

My mother-in-law was a gem. She was funny, cute, elegant, classy, down-to-earth, loved to laugh, and welcomed me into the family as a daughter. Of course, it didn’t hurt that I married her first-born.

Her name was Charlotte Emily, but I had never heard anyone call her anything but Kitty. Occasionally a niece would mention “Aunt Charlotte” but that’s about it. She rapidly became a second mother to me, and I loved her.

I was always curious as to where the nickname “Kitty” came from, and found it to be a most interesting and amusing story. In her own words:

“…when I was in 7th or 8th grade, I was given a nick-name, Kitty! This came about in the winter when we were skating on a small lake in Monroe, New York. My sister Eleanor told some friends about an episode when we were living in Windham, New

York. Our Mother and her three daughters were enjoying the evening sitting on our front porch, when a small black and white animal came creeping up the front walk. I began calling, “Kitty, kitty” and started down to pet him or her. As I got up my Mother said, “That’s not a cat – it’s a skunk!” Well, luckily, it turned and ran away without leaving the usual odor we associate with skunks. That winter when we, El and I, were skating, El told this story and from then on everyone on the ice began calling “Here Kitty, Kitty!” And I’ve been called Kitty every since!”

Mystery solved! I’ve heard similar stories before, but not where the name stuck.

Her father was a Scottish Presbyterian minister, who immigrated to the United States from Scotland during the Potato Famine in 1910. I remember her saying that she loved to hear the bagpipes play – it really got her blood up to a good boil!

She was devoted to her husband and their four children. Being a U.S. Air Force wife, she moved and traveled frequently. She had a flair for decorating, and her home was always elegant yet comfortable. I remember the story of how, in 1947 after World War II, her husband was assigned to an installation in Italy. He went over first, and then she made the trip with those four children in tow – ages 8, 4, and 2-year-old twins. She was a brave woman! They lived all over the world – many places in the United States as well as Italy, Japan, and Hawaii.

She was a great cook. She taught me to make turkey stuffing the “New England” way – with bread rather than cornbread. She taught me to make German Springerle Christmas cookies – the best I’ve ever eaten!

She loved to have fun, and was a bit of a cut-up. I will always remember her with me on the beach in northern California, dancing barefoot through the wet sand and kelp.

She left us in 2010, after about 10 years of dealing with Alzheimer’s disease, and so she actually left us many years before that. I miss her, still.

John 14:27

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THE CONCERT VIOLINIST

7 Oct

MEMORIES

 

Judy Wills

 Sunday Memories

July Wills

 

We had not been in town very long – less than one year – when we found the church where we felt God wanted us to be members.  Six months later, I was the Church Secretary.  I found the atmosphere to be absolutely pure, compared to secular jobs I had held.

Our Senior Pastor was a delight – what you saw was what you got.  A great preacher as well as a tremendous pastor to the flock.  Wonderful to work with.  He considered us co-workers, not boss-employee.

He was very mission-minded – always looking for ways to encourage our congregation to be aware of how they could be missionaries, and lend support to those actually serving on the mission field.

Each year he proposed to have a Mission Conference, with missionaries speaking about their particular field.  He tried to incorporate those from North America, International, State, and Local missionaries.

One year, he was given the name of a woman who had defected from the former Soviet Union, Bulgaria, in fact.  And not only would she be speaking, but she was a concert violinist – First Chair in the Moscow Symphony Orchestra, and later, after her defection, First Chair in the Los Angeles Symphony Orchestra.  She had earned five music doctorates.  We were suitably impressed with her credentials.  She agreed to come, but required a piano accompanist.

As neither our church pianist nor organist wanted to undertake this requirement, I volunteered.  She sent me the music I needed to play and I began practicing every spare moment.  I was really beginning to feel intimidated by the music – not completely sure I was capable for the task.  But the day arrived, and so did our violinist.  I was shaking in my boots!  I was convinced she would see how inadequate I was to even THINK about accompanying her!  But we practiced together and both seemed satisfied we could complement each other.  My only hope and prayer was that I wouldn’t mess her up too much!

Her testimony was jaw-dropping and spell-binding!  She told how each person in her church in Bulgaria only had ONE PAGE of the Bible – and yet it was enough for them to come to know Christ.  She is the only surviving member of her family.  Both her parents and her brother (pastors) gave their lives for the Gospel.

And then she played for us.  What a command of that instrument she had!  She made it positively SING!  It was such a joy to accompany her.

We became friends from that experience – and other years she came to continue her message to us.  Even though I knew she had professional accompanists, she told me she was always happy to have me accompany her!  She could tell that my heart was in it.  She is a very gracious lady.

Violinist

Violinist (Photo credit: Arturo-)

Psalm 33:3

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The Concert

30 Sep

Sunday Memories

 Judy Wills

 

I always remember there being a piano in the house.  Mother would sometimes sit down and play her favorite hymns from memory, with embellishments.  Occasionally we four would gather around the piano and sing along – Mom playing, Daddy on bass, brother on tenor, me on soprano.  Fond memories.

I started taking piano lessons the day I started first grade, and continued until I graduated from high school.  Now you might have thought that I was some kind of whiz on that instrument – and you would be dead wrong!  Talent?  Yes, I think God gave me some talent.  But not the GIFT.  I always have to have that piece of sheet music in front of my face, or I can’t play anything.

As time went on, I honed my talent, and became fairly accomplished.  My usual fare was church pianist, and occasionally the organist.

Our new Minister of Music wanted to do something new and different – so he organized six of us pianists and we began preparing for a six-piano concert!  One of the local piano stores had a room full of Clavinovas (digital/electronic pianos), and allowed us to practice at the store.

Close to time for the concert, and the pianos were moved to the church.  Up on the stage they went, and our practice time was closer to home.  We played two or three pieces all together – different parts of the song, like an orchestra.  Then we each played a duet with one of the other pianists, then a solo.  We were each to introduce ourselves to the audience and tell something about ourselves – just to get acquainted.

Friday night came – and the first concert.  The sanctuary was nearly full!  And then it became a labor of love – for the instrument and for our God who gave us all the talent to use for His Glory!  A labor of love, but such fun, as well.  My sister-in-law said, “WOW that was Great!!  What a glorious thing to hear SIX pianos played by six talented musicians all at one time!  I can sense God’s hand in this concert and in these musicians.”

I like to think that all those piano lessons have paid off.  I may not have the gift, but what talent I have, I use for God’s Glory.

Oh sing to the LORD a new song, for He has done marvelous things!

His right hand and His holy arm have worked salvation for Him.

 

Psalm 98:1

 

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There’s a Squirrel in the House!

23 Sep

Sunday Memories

Judy Willis

I love to watch squirrels.  They are such fun to see – digging in the grass for buried treasures; chasing each other around the tree; sitting on their haunches, tail up and curled, eating some delightful morsel….

For some time, I had been feeding pecans to the squirrels in the back yard.  I would stand in the doorway and place the pecan closer and closer to my foot, just to see how close they would come to me.

Why is the dog, Maxie, running through the house?  Is she chasing something?  Then why isn’t she barking?  As I looked down over the bannister….who/what belonged to that gray tail?  Then I understood, and….FRED!  THERE’S A SQUIRREL IN THE HOUSE!!

As Fred ran to get a broom, I ran down the stairs and grabbed Maxie.  I took her to the front door and opened it and the screen door.  I crouched down, holding her wiggling body by her collar, next to me.  Fred ran into the living room.  Then I heard him scream a word that I had never heard him say before!

Next thing I know, the squirrel is racing for the open door.  And I just let go of Maxie and let her chase that squirrel to her heart’s content!  She didn’t catch it, of course, but not for lack of trying.

Seems the squirrel had jumped up on top of one of the picture frames over the couch.  As Fred swung the broom at it – it jumped at his face!  Hence the “word.”  But he was after that squirrel as fast as possible.

From then on, any time Maxie saw a squirrel outside the house, she went crazy, trying to get to it.  She never barked, but boy! did she race back and forth in front of the windows.

I shall never feed a pecan to a squirrel again!

John 10:10

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Sunday Memories-Safe

16 Sep

 

We at the OldThingsRNew blog  are  so pleased  to be growing and adding a new feature, Sunday Memories. We welcome Judy Wills as our very first contributor and hope she makes it a weekly event.

Judy Wills

Safe

“I’m sorry……….but it’s cancer.”

Those words are probably some of the most dreaded in the English language.  I certainly never expected to hear them about myself.  My husband was standing by my side as I took the phone call, and laid his hand on my shoulder as I immediately looked into his face and told him the results.

“It’s very small – it’s probably only been growing a few months – since Christmas perhaps.”

Well, that’s one bright spot in all this – if there can be such a thing in………cancer.

Make the appointment to see the surgeon.  Take time off work to see the surgeon, then schedule the surgery.  My boss was the most understanding, gentle, generous man I could ever want to work with, i.e. take all the time you need.  We can cover you here.  And he and my co-workers did – they bathed me in their prayers.

One of the most difficult things was to tell our daughters – so very far away.   And then to tell my brother and sister-in-law, who is more than a sister to me.  They prayed with us over the phone.

And my prayers took on an almost desperate mantra – “Lord….keep me safe.  Please keep me safe.  Keep Fred safe.  Keep me safe………”

Good Friday came, and I was scheduled to play the organ for the service at the church.   During one of the short devotional thoughts, as I was sitting on the organ bench, it seemed like God took me on His lap and wrapped me up in His arms.  And the word that came into my mind was……. SAFE.  Nothing more.  But I knew everything was going to be okay.  I was SAFE in God’s arms – WE were safe in God’s arms.

It only lasted a few seconds, and I can’t tell you what the Pastor spoke on.  But I’ve never forgotten that feeling of total security and safety and love that God gave me that evening.

12 years and counting.  How’s THAT for being SAFE in God’s arms?

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