Goodnight Kiss

A year has been added to my age recently. I could comment about my feelings on that whole dealio, but why? Probably just best to accept that the number is just a number. Hmmm. I’m going to keep that in mind when I see the number on the doctor’s office scales later this month.

My family gathered here at our hacienda and loved on me with their presence, hugs, food, cards, games, gifts, laughs, fun stories. It was a great day. I was playing Sirius music through our TV speaker and displaying old family pictures through the Roku as I do often, VERY often.

While playing games, my oldest daughter wanted to change to some different music. You know, those silly kids don’t always enjoy their folks’ music. I was fine with that, Sirius Country Yacht channel had been playing for hours.

As we went back to playing cards the music she had selected made me catch my breath. The piano sounded like me playing. The voices sounded like my young daughters. And my husband and me.

The oldest daughter had been cleaning out boxes of stuff in their home and came across a cassette tape from her youth. “Noises from the Coffman Parlor”. Long ago in an earlier chapter of life, we made the tape while doing our favorite thing of singing together. She doesn’t have a cassette player anymore. Do you? Yeah, likely not. But she found someone who was able to convert the contents of the cassette into a CD.

As we listened the girls reminisced about our youngest always being forced to sing the soprano high notes because no one else could. “We all had alto voices, why did I have to sing the high parts,” she lamented. And the solo that girl #1 sang for her high school graduation was on there. Along with songs where the three of us sang harmony. Hubby sang from time to time. He was notorious for singing wrong lyrics. 😜 Don’t get me wrong, though. He LOVED singing with his 3 girls.

But then our focus went back to playing games. We are gamers. There was fun to be had with the kids and grandkids and us old folks. The game was Flip 7 Extreme, and our oldest son-in-love was pretty much dominating most of the games.

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The next evening my husband asked me if I’d like to listen to the music again, just the two of us. We wanted to listen more closely. So we did.

And right there in our living room I was transported back to 108 E Vine. I looked over and saw that his eyes were closed. A tear or two on his cheeks. Mine, too. I knew “where” he was, too. Our minds were seeing two little girls. Our hearts were recalling the younger days of our family life. So long ago. So very long ago. Good times, not so good times. Life.

On one of the first songs played I heard my voice singing these words and I could still remember the words to sing along:

“I count it as a privilege, I count it cause for praise, to kiss my children goodnight at the end of every day. For I know too soon they’re up and gone and walking out the door, and I’ll never have a child to kiss goodnight anymore”.

The song is Goodnight Kiss by Steve & Annie Chapman. From the 1970’s.

We talked about how difficult it was to hear this music without choking up and shedding a flood of tears. But we listened to every song.

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It is so easy, way too easy in fact, for me to be caught up in thinking about all the things I did wrong as a young mom. Wow there was a lot of “wrong” to think about. Do all moms deal with this same mindset?

But sitting there listening and remembering through the tears was like a gentle hug from God.

It’s very hard for me to believe but maybe….. I was all He intended me to be as a mom to my girls.

Maybe you were/are, too. God takes our pitiful, weak, often failed efforts and He makes them enough.

HE is enough, we’re sure not. And that’s the good news. He is a good good Father.

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Thank you dear daughters for the precious beautiful day. Thank you God for my family. ❤️

Overlooked Treasures

A couple years ago I was sitting with my sister on her lovely screened-in patio, listening to her brand new high quality wind chimes as a gentle breeze created a lovely song. She bought these chimes because the individual tones play “Amazing Grace”  if conditions are just right. But really, the sound is so pure and lovely regardless of how the breeze is moving the chimes. 

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Broken? Beyond repair?……not so fast my friend.

Are you one who gets excited to fix broken stuff? Can you part with items that simply do not function anymore? Some folks really find joy in diagnosing and fixing up and repairing….and then there’s me. I once declared our dishwasher as a goner and insisted that it simply could not be fixed. My husband tried to trouble shoot it but alas, all attempts to make it function failed. Bought a new fancy high dollar dishwasher, installed it, pretty impressed with its shiny new features, turned it on. Uh, it wouldn’t turn on. Tried this, tried that, looked at each other, shook heads and exchanged unpleasantries.

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Whine Suppression

The temperature outdoors was 49 degrees when I got up today. The furnace came on several times during the night. The date? July 18, 2025. Yes.

I should explain that I was waking up on this particular day at 9800 ft elevation in beautiful Colorado.

And sadly, on that blissful cool morning we would pack everything up in our RV and head eastward toward Kansas. Man, it’s always painful to leave the mountains and go back home every summer when we vacation in Colorado.

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Little People and Toy Boats

Little people. And toy boats. On the ledge of our bathroom’s whirlpool tub. Does this scene bring a tear to your eye? Likely not. I mean, usually I stay calm and tear free when I see them….unless I’m fixing to clean that tub. Then growls, tears, sighs all indicate my distaste for cleaning.

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Hills, caterpillar, and unexpected nostalgia.

In the “sense of adventure” spirit that my husband is so enamored with (and so am I), we decided to take a scenic drive on our way to Topeka yesterday afternoon. A map of gravel road utility type vehicle trails in the Flint Hills has been hanging on our fridge for months. I printed it from a VisitEmporia.com website in hopes that one day we could explore the beautiful area that is so visible from I-35 turnpike through the Flint Hills. So yesterday, at the last minute before leaving the kitchen, the hubby pulled that map off the fridge and said “let’s do this!!”.

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Comfort and Joy

Just a little preface to this post. You’re not going to find anything that even vaguely resembles what you might read in the headlines or hear on the news these days. My motive is simple stories and encouraging words. No politics, no controversy, no mean stuff. This is Simply B keeping it light and simple. Finding the good. It’s there to be found.

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Old roads

This past May took us on a journey with my sister and hubby to meet up with their son and wife on the Nebraska/South Dakota border. Near Yankton, SD, in a COE campground on the Missouri River. The Nebraska side.

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While they’re here

It’s February. Valentine’s Day happens this month every year. Every year romantic couples celebrate each other with tokens of love. Such a sweet thing, but seriously it’s over-sold in my opinion. Money Making Marketing ploy. And so many folks left out because they have no romantic person in their life. Okay, mini-rant over, let’s move on…

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Gifts and Givers

In your own experience, who has historically been the parent most likely to shop for and/or create all the gifts given in your family? For me it was my mother. As a result, I really don’t remember many details about the gifts she gave me. Except that she generously gave to her children. So many gifts over the years. And so much of herself.

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One Best Thing

1958-ish

Today is Father’s Day. This is my daddy, whom I have written about often. We had 17 years together. I’ve had 50 years of life beyond those 17 years. Without him. Do I miss him, even 50 years later? Well, yes.

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‘Sup? oh my….SUP

My oldest daughter has an SUP. Stand up paddleboard, in case you need to know. Her mother-in-law also has one. They rave about how fun they are, how easy they are to use, how great the muscular work-out they provide.

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A moment in time

I had a “moment” the other day. It all started when I saw my hairbrush while getting ready for the day. It was full of gray hair. FULL of gray hair. And in that moment, I “saw” my mom. Of course when my eyes lifted to look in the mirror, there she was again.

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Dreamy Hardware Stores, Dreamy Cute Guy, Dreamy Ice Cream

I grew up in a really small town in northern Kansas. Minneapolis. Not THE Minneapolis. No, when saying where we’re from, I’m certain every former and current resident always adds the important qualifying word: KANSAS.

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While you wait on the Doorkeeper

Do you like to wait? When we go to restaurants and see more than 10 people in line generally we turn right back around and leave. That’s how much we like to wait. Once in south Wichita I was stuck in my car waiting on a train, and it turned into a 45 minute wait. Then I learned this was the norm for that particular area! I just can’t think of anything I really enjoy waiting for. Not food, not trains, not telephone calls on hold. I could go on and on.

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The Morels of Campgrounds

Against my better judgment I’m fixing to tell you a camping story. With details I’d prefer not to share. Go ahead and read, but I may need you to sign a waiver first promising you won’t share info. Reality check, Simply B, that can’t happen. They’re going to read it anyway. Well, okay, here goes.

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The Eyes Have It

Again, I have been given the opportunity to reminisce about my mother. Several days ago I had cataract surgery. Soon I will have cataract surgery on my other eye. Just a short appointment, quick recovery, and voila, good eyesight. Maybe even no prescription eye glasses needed once my other eye is done. Just that simple.

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