Porch Notes

I see you made it.  Pull up a chair, Darlin. Pick your spot on this porch, and I’ll get us some sweet tea. Coffee? Sure. We can do that too. Tell me what brought you here? I love to hear everyone’s stories. Life surely deals us a varied and surprising deck of them, don't you think?

Well, here is mine if you can suffer through it. As a true Southerner, it begins with my Mama. My mother used to tell me if there was a hurt puppy (meaning a guy with a broken heart) within a hundred miles, he’d find his way to me. One day, I finally decided to make a living at it. For over twenty-five years I’ve listened to the stories of adults, couples, teens, and families as a Licensed Professional Counselor (LPC). There’s not too much I haven’t heard. However, it was my honor and calling to help them live their best lives through helping them solve all kinds of general and relationship issues. Friends and family used to ask me how I could do that all day. The truth was I loved seeing their growth. It was how I knew God was working through and/or in spite of me. But rest assured, He was working, and I got to witness it. ( And I didn't even have to date them.) 

At the urging of my hubby, a few years ago I finally retired to focus on my own family, and enjoy life with them, our friends, and creative outlets. I was thankful for that opportunity. Then, as life does, it continued to present its challenges. Breast Cancer emerged in 2016 and was cured. Then last fall, a genetic heart defect called Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy, began getting my attention with symptoms of dizziness and breathlessness.  In January of this year, we addressed it with a Septal Myectomy by a very experienced and skilled surgeon. Needless to say, open heart surgery had not been on my retirement bucket list, yet I was thankful for the expedient and skilled treatment, even though recovery has been trying my patient nerves. I want to be well from it, like yesterday. 

I couldn’t have made it through all of that were it not for my amazing husband. I found him late in life. He is my second and final husband. I was a single mother for almost all of my daughter’s growing up years, so I know the struggles that many of you without a  partner know.  Without a doubt I know he arrived in my life from the prayers of friends who had the good sense to know I needed someone more than I thought I did. My middle name is my maiden name, Steely, and it does stand for stubborn. Anyhoo, hubby and I have a blended family of four sons and one daughter, all grown, with two grandchildren by our daughter. Why someone didn’t tell me to have the grandkids first, I’ll never know. It is flat out true. They are so much more fun. We also live with a French Bulldog named Prissy Pearl, and she is our handful. She is the second in our string of Frenchie pearls, Lola Pearl being the first. After this ‘second child’, we’re not sure about ever adding a third pearl to the strand. She may have broken the chain. 

When I’m not watching a game with my fanatical baseball loving hubby (Don’t think I exaggerate. You should see his office.), I’m either cooking for he and our friends, or piddling in the yard or house. If I had my druthers, I'd be on the beach every day, or on a boat, but I don't have my druthers ... just yet. 

Anyway, that's how I put off writing. It works, too. But somewhere along the way …this blog was accidentally conceived and actually born on the porch of our lagoon house on the coast of Alabama. You couldn’t hardly tear me off that porch. I could sit there for hours waiting for eagles to do a fly by, listening for the owls, and/or watching pelicans glide in formation less than a foot above the water. The coast had me mesmerized, and I was coming into my own southern porch lifestyle persona. With a calm stillness and surrounded by the beauty of the Gulf Coast, I began to ponder, Southern style of course … then share those meandering ponderings. Yes I'd journaled all my life, but sharing those pages was another thing entirely. Somewhere along the way, I guess, all this began to strike a chord, these ramblings of mine. And so … Porch Notes became a living breathing thing. 

Call it an old occupational hazard, I just seem to notice things beneath the surface. Then look for spiritual truths within them. All, I hope, not only with truth, but with a never-ending sense of humor. What good Southern gal doesn’t have that lodged somewhere in her DNA.

I’m not sure if there is a saying or not, but I can sure start one. Old counselors never die, they just find new places to tell people what they think. Otherwise, we drive our own families crazy. Most likely already have. But hey … our crazy families are what made us into the therapists we are today. It's not all sugar and sweet tea. And … since we good ole Southern gals love to pass down family traditions, we also may or may not be easy to live with. Just so my family members know, I am not asking for confirmation of this.

So here YOU are. Lucky you. Listening to a somewhat retired old salt who’s still learning some of her own lessons about life. I hope you’re comfy on this old porch of mine. If I make us think, giggle, cry, and/or learn some new things together, well … then I’ve done my job. God bless us all as we rely on Him. Life is joyful, and at the same time, really hard at times. 

Pass the sugar and the tea and make yourself comfortable, Darlin. We may be on this porch for a while.