This morning - and, believe it or not, with Jeremy's blessing - I paid the deposit for five days at the Grand Floridian next September. We were gonna go in January of 2017, but then we got the chance to go to Atlantis this November, so we pushed Disney back a little, which is probably not a bad thing, because the boys will be that much bigger and, thereby, capable of remembering that much more about ourlong-awaited trip.
In addition to paying the deposit, I also customized our Magic Bands, in case I get busy in the next 438 days ... which, we all know, may be THE LONGEST OF MY LIFE.
When I was a little girl, if my parents had given me a choice between going to Disney World and spending a week at my Mayme's in Kentucky, I'd have been in the Bluegrass State before they could say, "Zip-pa-dee-doo-dah!"
It wasn't even a fair fight.
Then again, Mayme made things pretty magical. She stocked her freezer with Pudding Pops (and, just for me, peppermint ice cream that she'd bring home in a styrofoam cup from the Chimney Corner restaurant, "up the road"); she had Reese Cups in that same drawer where she kept the folded up Stultz Pharmacy bags, and she'd almost always let us go to work with her where there were not only calculators to play with but also giant rubber stamps with forms to fill out. It was Utopia for a kid like me, for whom office equipment was every bit as fun as riding a roller coaster.
And then there were our cousins - right across the street. BJ, four years younger than me, would be standing at Mayme's massive window, watching for our drive down Riverside Drive. Lori's laying in her king-sized waterbed - the one with the mirrors on the wooden canopy - eating Caramellos and spraying Sun-In in her hair, and then there's Brad. If he's not at the ballfield, he and his team are listening to WKEE and jumping off Lori's roofline into the pool two stories below.
With all of this going on, who WOULDN'T want to be there?
If you had asked me then if there'd EVER come a time when I'd go 18 full months without visiting this most favorite of places, I'd have said you were a few planks short of a paddlewheel. But that's what's happened. Growing up - and growing children - make visits harder to come by.
This spring, though, we Stultzes said, "NO MORE." It was finally time to reconnect with some of the ones we love the most.
We pulled into Greenup for Father's Day Weekend. On our way, of course, the boys and I drove through nearby Ashland. As we did, I had that same old bubble in my belly - the familiar excitement of "WE'RE ALMOST THERE!!!!!" just about made me explode, while I pointed out some of the spots with memories attached.
"There's the theatre they built when I was in junior high! That's the smokestack Mayme told us she used to sit on top of. We'd eat at that McDonald's on our way to Camden Park."
Decades-old memories still as fresh as yesterday.
When we finally got to Greenup, I was welcomed by the sight of barges on the riverbank and the sound of crickets in the ravine. There's the fire station's reminder that it's 9 o'clock, and the same train still roars by right around 11.
Some things never change.
Thank God for that.
Another thing that hasn't changed is the affection I feel for the people I spent last weekend with. It was an unbelievable treat to walk that riverbank - or drive it, if Freddie had access to Uncle Dave's golf cart - with some of my first friends. What's more amazing is how the next generation didn't meet a stranger, either. From teenagers to toddlers, Mary and Fred's great-grandchildren were instantly as thick as the blood that binds us all. If I thought it once over the weekend, I thought it a thousand times - how proud Mayme would be to see us all still together.
Just as many times, I thought about what a gift that it is to have a family that wants to be together; to have been taught - and shown - that some knots can't be untied is as magical a gift as I was ever given.
A Greenup Christian Church youth intern is living in the
apartment where we stayed. Somehow, while napping,
Freddie accessed these light up darts she had and figured out
how to turn them on. It looked like he was surrounded by
flares when I went in to wake him up!
Just before our cookout Saturday nite, Jones spiked a fever,
having had no symptoms all day. Cousin Brad
came to the rescue - driving all four of the Pressleys
to Stultz Pharmacy for some Ibuprofen ... and, for Freddie,
CANDY! Jones didn't want any, which shows how sick he was!
We spent the weekend of Father's Day in Kentucky with my family, but that didn't stop the four of us from having a little celebration of our own. In fact, because I'd waited long enough to share with Jeremy his surprise, we gave him his gift on Saturday morning, and, though he's not quite as expressive of his excitement as, say, Jones is, Jeremy still seemed to really love the caricatures I had my friend Sandy do of both of the boys. My plan is to have her do drawings like this every couple of years. I think that'll be a really fun collection to have.
Originally, I was going to give these to Jeremy to hang in his office. When I saw them, though, I knew I needed them close to ME, so I had them scanned and ordered 5X7 prints that Jeremy can display in the Pressley Group. The 11X14s will hang where I can see them - OFTEN.
Happy Father's Day, Jeremy. Thank you for being so sweet to our boys - and so patient with their mama!
Well, as expected, Nites Two and Three of VBS got progressively better. Jones definitely had his moments - like when he yelled, "NO TALKING" at the lady leading game time, and I took him out for a very stern conversation about respecting your elders - but he'd at least laugh at the hand motions to the songs, and he even played a few games. He was especially fond of the ones involving balls and hula hoops!
I'd have to say the highlight of his week, though, was making bracelets on Nite Three. The Prayer Box on Nite Two was fun, but the bracelets took craft time to a whole new level. Jones finished his first and asked to make a second. He later gave it to Freddie, and as soon as we pulled in our driveway, Jones ran jubilantly to Jeremy to show his daddy the beautiful0 creation.
The bracelets were the first thing on both boys' minds today, too. I picked Freddie out of his bed and set him on the floor. The next time I saw him - walking by me in the bathroom - 0he had his little string of beads around his wrist. When I went to get Jones, he didn't say, "Good morning, Mama!" He said, "I want my bracelet, Mama. It's in your room."
So the moral of the story is more crafts for JoJo. The other moral of the story is how much I love the way our new church does Bible school. There are no gimmicky themes - just three nites of straightforward teaching on a single verse of Scripture. This year's was Romans 6:23:
For the wages of sin is death, BUT the gift of God is eternal life in Jesus Christ our Lord.
They learned the WHAT of the Good News on one nite, the WHY of the Good News on the next, and the HOW of sharing the Good News on the final nite.
Oh, and according to Elizabeth McKinney, the nursery keeper, Freddie was super sweet in the nursery. He'd call to his buddy Brice, who's several months younger than Freddie, and say, "Brice. Come here," and then he'd blow bubbles for the boy I'm sure Freddie sees as a baby (though he's not).
I already can't wait for next year.
Neither can the boys.
I LOVED having Jeremy tehre for the first two nites of VBS. I also loved how many other dads were there. too.
FULL DISCLOSURE: Jones had absolutely NOTHING to do with the painting of that picture frame, though he DID put the foam stickers on it. He DID, however, make his own Prayer Box.
This morning - and, believe it or not, with Jeremy's blessing - I paid the deposit for five days at the Grand Floridian next September. We were gonna go in January of 2017, but then we got the chance to go to Atlantis this November, so we pushed Disney back a little, which is probably not a bad thing, because the boys will be that much bigger and, thereby, capable of remembering that much more about ourlong-awaited trip.
