OK, yes, I would like to sing martini music. What of it?
After we checked in at Midway Airport on our way home from Chicago (btw, I am in love with Midway and was thrilled to avoid O’Hare!!), we grabbed lunch in the food court where we had the sweetest entertainment by a very gracious and beautiful, Greta Pope. She did standards and pop hits and oldies and jazz and I was enthralled.
Tredessa was not one bit surprised when I told her that this is the next direction I hope my life takes. And Dave knew the second he saw her that I would want to be her. Lovely.
The basement apartment in Des Moines, Iowa (1959); the Washington Street Apartment (Joe and Tim show up 1961 and 1963); 1310 York Street, just two houses down from Grandma and Grandpa Baker; then the beloved 1723 York Street across the alley from Nancy Lydon (Tami and Danny are born, 1965 and 1966); the Jersey Ridge Road house in Davenport (1971); then the brand new house we built at 5506 North Howell (1972); the corner parsonage in Cedar Rapids (1973); a parsonage right next to the church in Robert, Louisiana (1975); Finally – 4995 ROOSEVELT PLACE IN GARY (1977) – the last of the houses where we all, Ross-the-Boss, Mrs. Moss and all the Little Landers, dwelled together before leaving the sweet (Glen Park C of G parsonage) nest my parents had provided the 7 of us…
“I’ve been around the world and as a matter of fact”*
Dave and I have lived in a few places (Minot, ND; Kokomo, IN; Sioux City, IA; Norfolk, NE; Denver-forever), different houses. And my parents have been all over since I left their home, too (Hobart, IN; Willard, OH; Richmond, IN; St Joe-MO; Butte, MT; Springfield, MO; back to St Joe-MO). I visited my parents in their current digs in Saint Joe early in the year. The house they are living in? Not home. No. But my parents? Wherever they land, is kinda home to parts of me. I always need to know where they are and what their house looks like so I will know the space my heart is rambling about in. Mom and dad are the fixed stars in my sky. LOVE them!
God, it seems you’ve been our home forever; long before the mountains were born,
Long before you brought earth itself to birth,
from “once upon a time” to “kingdom come”—you are God. Psalms
“Goin’ back to Indiana” ~ The Jackson 5
While we were at the Moslander Family Reunion last week in Chicago and Northwest Indiana, us old-timers took a late-afternoon, impromptu drive through the old neighborhoods; saw places we had worked and schools we’d attended and the house we called home. It is all the same, but so different. The huge mountain spruce in the fron yard at 4995 Roosevelt Place, trimmed to above roofline and barely clinging to life now, was once a full, thick, green privacy wall between the house and street. There are pictures there of my brothers in their graduation attire and even my babies running on the lawn from way back when. The juniper has all been removed in favor of more manageable potted flora. The dings Tim and my other brothers put into the side of the house playing baseball in the 70’s are still there, a testament to long summer days spent with a bat and ball in hand.
And we actually were just a few blocks from the Jackson family home in Gary, Indiana, btw!
The streets of Gary used to be positively frightening during business hours, the traffic heavier than the city had prepared for. The business district I used to drive is nearly a ghost town. Boarded up windows and abandoned buildings everywhere, yet minutes away, there are still quiet neighborhoods with established lawns and trees. You can buy a beautiful brick bungalow for $15,000 (the for sale signs made of cardboard and black marker) there on an empty street. The same would cost 1.3 million in Denver.
“Who says you can’t go home again?” ~ Bon Jovi*
Surprisingly, standing there in the old yard, looking at the house in conjunction with neighboring homes and recalling old times and people from the past, it didn’t seem smaller. Often you’ll return to a childhood haunt and you’ll just feel like, “Wow-this seems so small now.” But that wasn’t the case at the Roosevelt Street house, the last home we all shared under one roof, the place my kids remember going to see Grandma and Grandpa Moslander. It really didn’t seem smaller.
It just seemed like: wow-how did this house ever hold all the life and loud love and laughter and memory and family and patio swimming in a 12-foot pool and Uno, all the huge bags full of 19-cent White Castle burgers after church ball games, or Bronco’s Pizza with 5 pounds of melted, dripping, greasy cheese, and church friends and Lake-effect wind and graduations and marriages and teen-agers and letter writing and boyfriends and girlfriends and Lake-effect snow and family altar and family feuds and kids and toys and books and WGN afternoon movies with our first color TV, first jobs and rusted out cars and Tip Top and Bible study and early morning prayer and first grandchildren and the first few spouses and all the rest of living that the Moslander family brought to it?
How on earth did this modest house on this unicorporated county street handle all that?
And it yet stands as a testament.
The Moslanders were here June 1977 – Spring 1990. And again in June 27, 2011. We were here.
In 3 months (the less-than-90 days between March 23 and June 19), we’ve had Dave-the-husband’s birthday, Amelie’s first birthday, Stormie’s quarter-of-a-century birthday (plus moving her into her first house-she is a homeowner!!), Tara’s super-early-30sbirthday and Mother’s Day. We had Stephanie’s birthday, Gemma’s birthday followed closely by Gavin’s lava’d birthday, Guini and Hunter’s Kindergarten graduations, Wrex’s birthday, Tredessa (28) and DP’s (30th) birthdays and Father’s Day. There have been 2 major Heaven Fest dinners and a couple of big-HF-family-meetings with all the trimmings and even Luka had a bday
Recently::
Gavin’s Volcano “cake” at his breakfast party
The first grandson turned 8 and we all gathered for a happy-Saturday-morning breakfast-party. I used strawberry Jello for the “lava,” but even though in the trial run the actual liquid didn’t ooze out, but rather just red Jello-bubbles travelled slowly over the sides, no one wanted me to put more Jello in, afraid the donuts would be drenched in it, ruined for consumption. PLUS my dry ice melted down to 2 tiny slivers overnight. Guess I need a lesson in dry ice!!? Gav and I will have to try it again sometimes when there is no Jello-sogginess-concern. With LOTS of dry ice. A red explosion!!
Gavin’s dinosaur cake when he turned 4, I think, was sort of the beginning of my “cake adventures.” He keeps making life fun. Love that boy!
DP turned the big 3-0
Wrote about his birthday:: H E R E. We did a double-celebration for him and Tredessa with a big Rhoades-family-Mexican meal. Cilantro rice and carne-asada steak tacos plus pulled pork green chile tacos and all the things that go with those. Dave wanted strawberry shortcake for his birthday. Tredessa had Lazy Peach Dessert (see below) for hers. Naturally Wrex performed a song for Dave and noted all his “famous” phraseologies (i.e. o-my-hinkin’-harry, bro-ham-and-cheese, etc) and even mentioned his penchant for v-neck tees. Stef is a master lyricist! Dave got the blessings and encouragements from the fam and Tara played him a most appropriate Brad Paisley song, “It Did.” [see here]
Tredessa was serenaded by her lover-boy for her birthday
And she had a lovely birthday with him. I wrote her b-day blog:: H E R E.Then the double-celebration with DP. She got a song from Wrex and it was a little on the ornery side, which Wrex believes brothers should do. It was hilarious. It fit right into the tune of “Take Me Home, Country Rhoades,” if you can imagine. She is an amazing woman and in love, which we like.
Lazy Peach Dessert by Jane Hagelstein
From the October 1988 issue of Family Ties (the monthly newsletter of New Life Church of God in Norfolk, NE). But I actually have the handwritten recipe card Jane wrote it on. Beloved and quite in shambles.
My best advice for this in Colorado: wait until the western slope peaches are ripe and juicy and cause you car to drive itself to a roadside market where the scent and taste literally scream: DELICIOUS! Yeah. They just aren’t quite right, yet, these California peaches. Huh-uh. Nope.
Shortbread crust:
Combine 1 cup oleo*
1 3/4 cups flour
2 tablespoons sugar
dash of salt
Lightly pat into glass cake pan (if you push it in hard, it will be tougher and less light and pastry-ish and amazingly wonderful). Bake it for 15-18 minutes in a 350-degree oven. Cool.
Peach sauce topping:
2 cups sugar
2 cups water
2 tablespoons corn starch
2 3 oz packages peach Jello
1 tablespoon oleo*
In a saucepan, blend and cook water, sugar and cornstarch until thickened and clear. remove from heat. Stir in Jello and oleo until dissolved. Cool.
Assemble
Slice or chop 7-8 ripe peaches (sometimes I make them all beautiful and perfectly uniform. Unless they aren’t great peaches anyway…like this batch). Distribute over the top of the crust. Pour over the sauce. Put in the fridge for at least 2 hours (overnight is best). Cut into 12 servings. Top with whipped cream.
You may also make this dessert with canned peaches, Jane Hagelstien noted (so Nebraska) or use fresh strawberries and strawberry Jello.
*Oleo, for my dear children, was another name for “margarine” back in the day. Just use REAL butter instead and all will be well!
WREX had a birthday, too.
Complete wih a custom song for him by Dave and the girls to the “Wolfcreek Pass” soundtrack. Love this guy. There is not a more genuine, giving and generous man than Wrex. His parents did a great job, but if he were ever in the market for new parents, we’d apply for the job. He is just a cool guy. That is why God blessed him with the gorgeous Stefane and the two of them with the loveable kiss-kiss, Princess Sawyer. LOVE them all!
Dave’s Father’s Day Worship set
Dave chose his fav worship songs. We sang along to guitar accompaniment, all the current favs, but it morphed in to pulling out all those old songs from the years the kids were growing up. Pretty hilarious. Songs you never really want to sing ever agin, but in this context were pretty fun. “Lord, I lift Your name on high. I’m so glad to sing your praises…” Haha.
Artwork by the grandbebes, found the next morning. Mixed media:: chalk and stickers on concrete. Intrigued by the block that say, “Aim for the head,” and the stick figure identified as “dad,” albeit backwards, with a huge bunch of snot coming out of his nose. Haha.
& E t c . . .
NEXT UP: Summer starts June 21! Today! YEAH!!
Time to relax a bit with some lollygagging in the garden and floating in the pool and you know, a little thing called Heaven Fest. www.heavenfest.com
A 2004 movie, Man on Fire: Directed by Tony Scott. Starring Denzel Washington, Dakota Fanning, Marc Anthony. In Mexico City, a former assassin swears vengeance on those who committed an unspeakable act against the family he was hired to protect.
Happy Birthday to Dave Powers, a son of my heart, my daughter’s God-sent love, and extraordinary daddy to my grandson
I love you, Dave. I thank God for the day He sent you our way. I will never forget the spiritual dream given to me in the early morning hours of the hope you were bringing, or of meeting you later that day, not even recognizing you as that dream fulfiller. I still laugh knowing that the day dad proposed to me almost 30 years ago, He was putting all the shattered pieces together and you were being born into the world. There God was, unbeknownst to us, putting all the pieces in place until the appointed time.
You were sent to us. I know this. Maybe like the guy in the movie. And I thank God for it.
You are a man on fire.
For the past few years, I have watched you as a contagious, youthful-zeal and passion guy whose love for Jesus invited people, just swept them in, to awe and worship of God; a preacher who could rain down the words of righteousness like life and bring hope and joy. You are always at your strongest when you release true joy in a room, btw. Always. But this season, as we have ventured into an unknown that is beyond anything any any of us have ever seen (and I mean: I have been around the block!), I am keenly aware of the size of the vision and the gift of communication God has entrusted to you. I have watched you become a voice that cannot be ignored, a spiritual stateman serving notice in enemy territory. I have told the interns: You are watching history unfold. You are hearing some of the most clear, visionary, faith-building, hope-infusing, revolutionary, enemy-diminishing, Kingdom-advancing words of our time. You are being exposed to something unbelievably powerful and earth-changing. Watch for how God plans to use that in your life, through your life, because this? This is an honor.
But if I say, “I will not mention his word
or speak anymore in his name,”
his word is in my heart like a fire,
a fire shut up in my bones.
Jeremiah 20.9a
I have told them that, these young interns (ww.heavenfest.com), because I am aware of its’ truth. I get to hear you speak often and every. single. time. I am BLOWN AWAY by the power of it. Especially because I also know the gentleness and purity of it. Because I am your mother-in-law and I know for a fact that what you speak to the crowds is absolutely as transparent and real as when you stop and take the time (so so so often) to speak to just one person, even me. I watch people walk away from listening to you, as you invite everyone to know and love Jesus like never before, and I understand their awe, I get that the anointing has begun the removal of some yokes and they are amazed at this Dave Powers. I listen as they try to express. And I can stand there knowing full well that who you are on stage or in front of a crowd is the tip of the iceberg of the man of character and faith, the husband, the father, the son and brother, the man you are outside of the spotlight (which you have never tried to find anyway), what they see, what impresses people – is never more true than when no one is looking. Yes, this is what I know.
If anyone could think differently, wouldn’t it be the mother-in-law? *smile
You were sent.
You belong to your parents. They birthed you and raised you and did a great job. I am grateful to their sacrifices and commitment to see you be all God had in mind. But God sent you to us. We got you as a gift. And I thank Him for that.
Here are some words from me to you
Happy Birthday, David Michael Powers. Son of my heart. I didn’t birth you, but I am as proud of you as if I did. xxxooo Mom
I had the most vivid dreams in the wee-before-the-sun hours of the morning.
1/
DREAM: I was at Heaven Fest. Some friends who are going through very hard times right now were there. We sat down and talked and laughed. And their troubles were very far away. And it brought me hope. www.heavenfest.com
2/
DREAM: I was at my family reunion and I heard my grandparents’ voices in the other room. I thought for sure I heard my grandpa calling out to me, “Debbie Jean!” He is the only person who ever called me that and I could hear their sweet voices like they were right there.
I asked my mom: Where are Grandma and Grandpa Allison? I heard them?
She warned me that they had Alzheimer’s and didn’t remember anyone. “You can go see them, sweetie, but don’t be disappointed. They won’t know who you are.”
I ran to an elevator and got on and there they were, standing close to one another, as always, looking so sweet and beautiful, slight, pleasant smiles, and they politely and warmly said hello to me, as they would have greeted anyone. I knew they didn’t know me.
Very cautiously, though, because I was so glad to see them, I asked, “Do you remember your granddaughter, Jeanie?”
Their faces lit up, they smiled brightly.
My grandma said, “Yes, of course. We remember Jeanie.”
And I knew that even though they didn’t know me there, in that elevator, they remembered me, who I was to them.
I cannot even tell you what that has done to me. It was just a dream, yet…ridiculously teary….
I wrote about them recently here [CLICK]and made this small tribute video. I haven’t heard their voices in years, but I *heard* them this morning. And I think every child in the world should have grandparents who just love them and leave them with this kind of legacy. Their favor and love meant so much. On it goes…
Safeway did an ad campaign with Tony Bennett’s rendition of “Are You Having Any Fun?” a few years ago and that is when I knew I loved his version best, though it is one of those old songs that have been recorded by lots of singers. And besides it being a happy-day-making song, it asks a good question- better, I think, than questions about where you think you’ll be in 5 years and whether or not you feel on target to own everything you ever wanted to own or have accomplished everything on your bucket list. It is simple: are you having any fun?
If you read me at all you know I am waaaaaaaaaay too serious and prone to melancholy and consider my glass-is-half-empty tendancies to simply be realistic expectations. But as God has been revealing to me from His own Word how much he intended J O Y to play a part in our lives, well, I am on a quest for it. It is treasure. When I find it (which He lovingly allows over and again), I am renewed and restored and healed and strengthened, just like Father knew I would be. Wow, He is good. Yes, He is!
Mi Familia
You don’t choose your family. They are God’s gift to you, as you are to them. ~Desmond Tutu
Our late March -to- mid June months are a crazy-filled 90 days of family birthdays and celebrations. I mean, we see each other a-lot! We have 3 kid birthdays and 6 adult birthdays, Mother’s Day, Easter, Father’s Day, school programs, craft days, Heaven Fest intensifying: all good stuff. But it works because my kids are all so creative and thoughtful. They choose to change up locales, houses or parks. They theme things with kick-ball games or a New York-style food night. The grandbebes might order a 3-tier cake for one week and a stacked-donut volcano the next. It keeps it interesting and creates an ebb and flow of good times and laughter and getting to watch my granbebes running madly through life, short legs carrying giant personalities.
I’m rich!
Is family life an efforrt? You betcha. You didn’t get to choose the family you’d get. But you choose to stay a family. You choose to do what it takes to love and build and be with the people God ordained to be in your life. Love. Family. Use it or lose it. It is something I go after with intentionality. It is what I have covenanted my life to.
I don’t care how poor a man is; if he has family, he’s rich. ~Dan Wilcox and Thad Mumford, “Identity Crisis,” M*A*S*H TV show
I assembled brief moments of my May days into a video as a reminder of where the joy came from. It was a busy month. It was a beautiful month. The calendar was full, and my heart was enlarged with love and gratefulness. You won’t see the times I cried or failed or maybe made some one feel bad or was tempted to take offense. You won’t see my way- unrighteous moments or hear my constant self-doubt or times of anxiousness. Those things happened too. It’s called life.
So don’t mistake the fact that I am sharing the j-o-y for thinking I am just lucky and sailing through life unscathed. Oh, I get scathed, baby! ;) This also is not an attempt at painting pretty, but false pictures, either. But it is a sliver of my chosen treasure, the blessed moments, the transcendant times in the Presence, May days and nights when joy was mine, a gift of favor from a loving, faithful God. I can’t remember everything, so I have decided what I will remember – and these are some of those times of rejoicing and they are God and they are good. And they are mine.
I guess it’s a “vlog”?
The family. We were a strange little band of characters trudging through life sharing diseases and toothpaste, coveting one another’s desserts, hiding shampoo, borrowing money, locking each other out of our rooms, inflicting pain and kissing to heal it in the same instant, loving, laughing, defending, and trying to figure out the common thread that bound us all together. ~Erma Bombeck
What June will bring?
There will be birthday gatherings and putting up the pool (pool parties to come), lots of grass mowing (the mower is humming along as we speak!) and gardening and cooking for crowds (for 100 tomorrow night!). Dappled sunlight and music by moonlight, summer and crickets’ song, kids squealing and sidewalk chalk and pots of pretty flowers. A recital to benefit the exploited, fast-paced festival-planning days vs. lemonade as I swing on the patio times. Father’s Day and Heaven Fest Sundays. June will bring even extended family times as we jet to Chicago for Moslander-Family-Reunion (Ross-the-Boss, Mrs-Moss, and all-the-little-Landers…I am a “little Lander”). June is shaping up to be lovely. I will watch for the joy…and I’ll let you know where I find it!
Family is just accident…. They don’t mean to get on your nerves. They don’t even mean to be your family, they just are. ~Marsha Norman
I SO LOVE exposing the grandbebes to my old 70s music favorites. This is Gemma’s movie in honor of her turning 4. She is a cutie.
The Music
“Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head,” was the first song we chose because it was sprinkling one morning she was here, very gray and that seemed happy. But I couldn’t resist leaving Gemma’s chatter in, so I had to switch from the wonderful B.J. Thomas rendition to the Ferrante and Teicher version. Some might call this “elevator music,” but I can actually appreciate their piano renditions (plus symphony) of the movies of the 1960s and 70s. So I digitized “Raindrops” from an old LP I have.
Then, what perfect dance song would I use? Hmmm…..I changed this song a dozen times or more. I knew when I found the right one, I’d just know it. And I did! Leo Sayer’s 1976 played-constantly-on-the-radio, “You Make Me Feel Like Dancing!” Happy!
When Stephanie was a little girl, any scarf or random piece of fabric would send her into joyful, swirling-twirling dancing. She would be delighted to get a stack of new bandanas in every color for birthdays. We called her our “Scarf Dancer” before we even knew there had been such a thing way back when. She was entertaining and funny right out of the gate, graceful and animated.
One rather dreary afternoon last October, Tredessa and I hosted a tea party for Averi and Gemma and Guinivere. When the music started, the scarves came out. And in Gemma and Guini, Stephanie’s own little girls, I see Stephanie still – silly giggling and jumping and free, rainbow colors and fabric framing her tiny self, dancing merrily, making happy.
The music is Chaminade’s “Scarf Dance,” composed around 1887, perfomed by Eric Parkin.
Oh happy day. You make me happy when skies are gray. And all sorts of fun songs about love and joy. To you. For your birthday today. Am I supposed to mention that you are 32? Because I won’t if I shouldn’t. You should not hate it. Think of me – your mother!! If you are 32, then I am….
You were born to…
A novice, a clueless girl. A May day. The lilacs in full, fragrant glory. The sunshine. Green grass. No money. Uncertain times. A God who loved you and was already smiling at your life.
Fixed in the Galaxy
When you were a teenager, everything was stars. They were your “motif,” and all around you were oodles of doodles of stars and star design on your clothes and belongings and in presents you got. And you were nicknamed “Shooting Stara” and it was cute. But it was part of youth. It was part of a past and you have become a claassic woman of dignity, beauty, strength and grace now. Save, perhaps for when you are competing with great zeal on the kickball field or during a volleyball game. Becoming wise and deeply steadfast, though, has not changed or diminished your easy laugh and happy nature. No, it has only deepened it and made your personality even richer with joy-bringing treasure.
For your birthday, I think of the hallmarks of who you are and what you have always been known for. For me, of course, a gift. Thus the Barbra Streisand song, “The best Gift,” that Bill Tull and Mary Tiller sang for your dedication.
“Liquid joy,” Lisa Bierer called you,for you are a glass-is-half-full, big-smile, cheerleading, enCOURAGing, exhorting kind of person. Everybody in the room feels more loved and more happy when you have arrived.
At the Heaven Fest dinner Saturday night in Loveland
But then, there was the whole “star” phase. And as I thought about you and all you are and everything you are becoming and how, youthful and lighthearted as you remain, you embody even now the personality you did at 3 or 4 years of age. And as a teen. So, I could not forget the star part.
But what is different now, sweet daughter? Now, you need to know, you are not a shootingstar, just a brilliant flash of passing dazzle and fancy against a dark sky. You are a star hung steadfastly in the firmament declaring God’s glory. I still see the star in you (S)TARa. I see it. But now, it is as Daniel 12.3 says:
Those who are wise will shine like the brightness of the heavens, and those who lead many to righteousness, like the stars for ever and ever.
You have the wisdom of some years now. You are not just a pretty girl. You are a ravishing woman. And you are leading many to righteousness, like a cool drink of water on a hot, dusty day, by your life, by your example, by everything God created you to be and to do. That has given you a fixed place in the universe to shine. You shine, baby girl. You shine.
Happy Birthday, Tara. Here are my words, a few of them, to say I love you and I thank God for you.
