Of Biographies and Presidential Libraries

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  • Several years ago, I read the biography, Truman, by David McCullough. I knew very little about President Truman before that, so the book was an eye-opening experience. After all, that time period is the back story to my life, the era of my parents’ childhoods. To be honest, there was a lot going on in the world during that time, and Truman ended up involved in most of it in one way or another.

 

The fact that a farmer from Missouri could end up in the White House, almost by accident, was incredible. Yet, he did. And he took responsibility and made tough decisions. Then, when he was done, he went home and walked to “work” at his Presidential library every day. The first presidential library.

 

So after reading the book, I realized that nearly every time we drove to South Dakota from North Carolina, we went right past Independence, Missouri, and the signs that point the way to his home and his presidential library. It became my goal, my dream, to visit his library. I’d never been to a presidential library, and this seemed like a perfect place to start.

 

But, it wasn’t that simple. Our trips back and forth were often made with as much speed as we could manage. After all, when it takes 27 hours to make the trip, you don’t really have time for sight-seeing. But every time we passed the signs I would say, “One day!”

 

About the time we got serious about visiting, they closed for renovations. Then the pandemic happened. But this past Thanksgiving week, “someday” became “this day” and we stopped in Independence and spent several wonderful hours exploring the museum/library. There was so much history there, a lot of it sobering, as it dealt with several wars.

 

I came away, thankful once again for the man that was Harry Truman and the gifts God gave him. Someday, I would love to go back. But, there are other presidential libraries!

 

A couple of weeks ago I finished reading Mornings on Horseback, also by David McCullough. It’s not a biography, but rather the chronicling of a family, the Roosevelt family. It starts with President Theodore Roosevelt’s grandparents and parents, and then settles into a close-up-and-personal look at the family in which Teddy Roosevelt grew up. It follows them through to the point where Teddy is about to marry his second wife, then quickly ties up the loose ends, letting you know how each of his siblings’ lives went after that.

 

It was an incredibly detailed look at the life of a privileged family in the last half of the 19th century and into the 20th.

 

The thing that most caught my attention, though, was a note from the author explaining how he decided to write the book. When he was researching for his books on the Brooklyn Bridge and the Panama Canal, (both on my must-read list) he discovered this massive collection of letters from the Roosevelt family, housed at Harvard. Every Roosevelt was a prolific letter writer. The author recognized in them a treasure trove of first person accounts of this time period in history. How could he not write the story? And wow, I’m super glad he did!

 

Only now I want to go to Harvard to see those letters.

 

Please comment below if you have visited any of the presidential libraries or have ever been inspired to visit a historic site because you read about it in a book.

 

If you are interested in visiting a Presidential Library, you can find a list of them at this site: https://www.archives.gov/presidential-libraries

 

Here is a link to information about the Theodore Roosevelt Collection: https://library.harvard.edu/collections/theodore-roosevelt-collection

 

 

When The Unthinkable Happens: Nine Ways To Support A Grieving Family

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Fifty years ago today, January 11, 1973, my life as I knew it ended. That afternoon my almost 35 year old mother went to fix supper, and in the doorway between the dining room and the kitchen, she went to heaven instead. This date is always a contemplative day for me. I usually am a little sad. And, to be honest, when you lose a parent at ten, the trauma becomes part of who you are.

But today, I don’t want to be sad. I want to remember that on January 11, 1973, somewhere between four and five in the afternoon, my Mommy saw Jesus for the first time! I don’t believe she worried for a moment about us, or about Daddy. I believe she knew instantly that God would take care of us, and HE DID! The moment she died, HE began pouring grace on us.

Today, I am revisiting a post I wrote several years ago. I hope you find it helpful.

Nine Ways To Support A Grieving Family When The Unthinkable Happens

Every time I hear of another family who has suffered the loss of a young parent, my heart constricts with painful memories. Losing a parent as a young child is a life-altering event. Even though I’ve been through this very situation, I find myself uncertain as to how to support them, I know to pray. That, after all is the best thing I can do. But there has to be more. Here are a few ideas for how to support a grieving family.

1. Support the remaining parent in any way you can.

The truth is, if the parent is okay, the children will be okay. My greatest fear was that something would happen to Daddy. Beyond the physical needs of the parent, the emotional stability and coping ability is crucial. The children will gain confidence as they see their parent coping. Now I don’t mean that they should never fall apart. Seeing your parent fall apart at the appropriate time can be a valuable learning experience in itself. But, if the parent has the right support to handle those moments life can right itself.

 

2. Try and keep things as normal as possible.

Of course it can never be the same again, but the children will find comfort in tradition and routine. Family rituals become all-important. If you know that the missing parent used to do something special, ask if you can help carry on the tradition—not to take the parent’s place, but to celebrate a tradition they started.

 

3. Keep any letters or emails you have from the deceased—especially those that mention the children in any fun or positive way.

My aunt kept all of the typed letters my mother sent her family, and after several years, she gave us each a copy of all of them. This is a treasure beyond description. An album of photos from the parent’s childhood, and photos of the parent with the children would be great too.

 

4. Don’t be afraid to talk about the deceased.

Tell stories. Relate personality traits about the parent that the child might not be aware of, if appropriate. My step-mom was actually really astute at getting Daddy to tell us things about our mother. Children who lose a parent are afraid they will forget how the parent sounds and what they looked like.

 

5. Offer practical help. And hugs.

If it is a mother that dies and she has preteen daughters, take them shopping for personal items. Let the dad know you are available for any conversations he might need help with. I would imagine this could be a problem for a family of boys when Dad dies. If your child is a close friend to one of the children, invite them over as before, but give more hugs. Hugs from one of your Mommy’s friends helps more than words can say.

 

6. Offer help with cleaning, cooking, or just giving the parent an evening off.

They need time to themselves, and sometimes the kids may need a fun evening too.

 

7. Extended families are crucial.

Our grandparents, aunts and uncles, and even cousins were our security blanket. We spent time with grandparents and gave Daddy time alone. Two of our mother’s sisters and families visited the next summer, helping with housework, and making sure we were doing okay. Daddy’s aunt and uncle stopped by frequently to check on us. His brother and parents were always just a couple of hours away and we could go there for a quick visit on the weekend for love and encouragement.

 

8. Consider offering to pay for the children to go to a grief camp.

There were no such places when I was young. But, we had a family. Intact. Caring. Present. In addition we had a church family with several ladies who were close enough to give us the hugs we needed. We had a Daddy who either kept himself together, or knew where to go when he didn’t. But, most of all we had the Lord and He met our every need. Just like He promised. But, not everyone has all of those resources, and some children might need more than they can offer! A grief camp can be an experience with life-long benefits.

9. Pray for them.

Like I said at the top, prayer is the best thing you can do. Pray that God will give the remaining parent wisdom, comfort, and strength for the difficult road ahead. Pray for the children that they will have the resources they need to deal with the trauma. Pray that God will give YOU ideas of additional ways to support this family.

Please share any other ideas for how to support a grieving family in the comments!

 

Of Christmas and Coffee Mugs

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A Christmas Story AND

Ten Ways To Recycle Coffee Mugs

Every morning I choose my coffee mug based on my emotions, what the date is, or who I’m thinking of that day. On the 14th of December, I drank out of my “Marv” mug in honor of the 90th anniversary of Daddy’s birth.

“Where did you get a Marv mug?”, you might ask.

Let me share a Christmas story!

In 1975, Daddy and Mom gave each of us ten dollars to spend on Christmas gifts. Even back then, that wasn’t much. Daddy’s suggestion was that we go together to get gifts, so our money would stretch further.

I clearly remember our excitement when we found coffee mugs with names on them. Marv was as close as we could get to Marvin, but we were delighted. And it had a cool antique car on the mug. The problem with Mom was that her name is Dortha and the closest we could find to that was Dorothy. So, she got the Dorothy mug with the lovely rose.

When they opened the mugs, their pleasure was obvious. They were impressed with our finds and they used those mugs every day for years! When Daddy retired and they were downsizing, I spotted those mugs and knew I had to bring them home. Now, when I want to remember Daddy, I drink from the Marv mug. On Mom’s birthday, I drink from the Dorothy mug. My collection is so big that even though I’ve given several away over the years, my mug wall is full, and there are more in the cabinet. It made me wonder about options for recycling coffee mugs. Here are a few that I found!

TEN IDEAS FOR UPCYCLING COFFEE MUGS

1. Plant Holder: Small succulents are particularly delightful in coffee mugs.

2. Coffee Mug Cake: Recipes are easy to find online for these yummy cakes, and they are naturally portion controlled.

3. Pencil/Pen holder: Use on a desk to hold all of your pencils and pens.

4. Coin Collection: Place on your dresser and put coins from your pockets in the cup.

5. Workroom/Sewing room collections: They would make a great holder for screws, buttons, or small pieces.

6. Candle holder: They could be used for tea lights, or even with poured wax as actual candles.

7. Candy dish: Especially for something like M&M’s.

8. Birdfeeder: I’ve seen mugs or teacups glued to a saucer and hung outside with birdfeed in it!

9. Soup dish: I love drinking my tomato soup right out of a coffee mug. Especially if you have a really large mug.

10. Regift: Mugs in great condition can be given as a gift. Put some candy, tea bags, or other delights in the mug and give it to a friend.

 

Do you have any other suggestions? Next time you pull out a coffee mug, think about where it came from. Who gave it to you? Who does it remind you of? Is there a special memory associated with that mug? Take a few moments and remember those people and experiences, then share in the comments!

 

Remembering people is my favorite thing to do with a mug. Well, that and drinking coffee!

 

Primary

Secondary

Now, when I want to remember Daddy, I drink from the Marv mug. On Mom’s birthday, I drink from the Dorothy mug. 

 

From My Front Porch to the Great Plains

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Most mornings you can find me on my front porch. Even when I leave for work at 6:20, I steal a few minutes on my porch with a cup of coffee, watching the day dawn and listening to the birds greet the new morning.

Every day I become more and more amazed, enthralled, and captivated by the variety of birds and creatures God gave us. For instance, just from our porch I have seen the following this Spring/Summer.

Early one morning, two raccoons marched down the road and climbed the maple tree, as if they own it. Maybe they do.

Two groundhogs burst out from under my porch in the middle of some kind of altercation. When I yelped—yes, yelped—they turned tail and ran back under opposite ends of the porch. I guess they decided it was better to get along under-ground than to deal with that crazy human on the front porch.

Squirrels. Lots of squirrels, which my husband calls tree rats. There is one who likes to pretend he is a high-wire performer and jump from the tree in our front yard to the tree across the road. He’s made it every time, so far. We have rabbits that hop around the yard and into the gardens, if given a chance, and the occasional deer or three.

Then there are the cats. A neighbor has some cats that made some more cats and you get the idea. They are semi-feral, but deign to approach our porch for the little bit of kitty food we put out to entice them to visit our property often, and at length. You see, there are also mice, and it sure helps to have cats prowling around the exterior of your home.

The most recent cat visitor to our porch is a kitten. We’ve named it Tippy—short for Tippy-toes—because it has perfect white toes on his front feet which contrast with his brown black coat. I admit it. We’ve named them all. It’s easier to say, “Patch was out on the porch this morning,” than, “that white cat with yellow patches was out on the porch.” So we have Bob—his tail somehow got cut off—and Tom. They are both big male cats and they rarely eat from our porch but do roam our yard. There is Patch and Spice, Clove and Cinnamon, Cinder and Stretch, and now Tippy. And Sandy, the feisty runt of his litter. Bruce calls them skitty kitties, and the little one is “the itty bitty skitty kitty.” We like rhyme.

The other day Clove tried to come up on the porch with a big old mouse in her mouth. I guess she was showing me that she was earning her keep. I shooed her away. I saw her a couple of days later with another one. I cheered her on, while assuring her I didn’t need to see the results of her exploits.

And finally my favorite, the birds. Our neighborhood sounds like an aviary, especially in the morning. At first light they start warming up. Cardinals, wrens, blue jays, tufted titmice, chickadees, crows, doves, towhees, hummingbirds, and wood peckers.

One recent morning I sat on my porch and thought about the joy the birds bring to me, and how they glorify God with their beautiful song. I couldn’t help but remember the little chorus I used to teach the children:

           

The birds upon the treetops sing their song,

            The angels chant the chorus all day long,

            The flowers in the garden blend their hue,

            So, why shouldn’t I, Why shouldn’t you.

            Praise Him too?

 

In two weeks, Bruce and I will take off in our motor home for an 11 week tour of the Great Plains. The purpose is two-fold. First, we will be visiting all of my paternal aunts and uncles, as well as Mom’s sister and brother. But, secondly, we will follow in the steps of the Double Cousins from the Double Cousins Mysteries. We plan to visit every town in which a Double Cousins mystery was set.

So far I have eleven events scheduled and I’m expecting a few more before it is all said and done. You are welcome to follow along virtually through my Double Cousins Mysteries (Ages 7-13) Facebook page.

If you are interested in the itinerary, go to my website’s home page and you will find it there. In addition, like and follow the Double Cousins Facebook page so you don’t miss any of the fun!

I have a feeling I might miss my front porch a bit while I’m gone. However, I am thrilled at the thought of all of the unique Great Plains creatures and creation I will see instead!

A Few of my Favorite Books – Summer Read Along

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My sister called the other day to tell me that the used bookstore in Rapid City, SD, has several of the Meg Mysteries by Holly Beth Walker. This caused an instant rush of adrenaline and spawned an hour-long phone call in which we discussed, researched, and discovered how many Meg Mysteries there were, how many I have, and how many we have read.

  
 This led to a discussion of other books from our childhood that we loved and would like to find again, which led to a search for one in particular. Cheryl not only persevered, but discovered the book originally had a different title, which—while artsy—was not particularly a good drawing card for the book, so it was changed.

Books from our childhood. They are so powerful.

I was asked on social media which book from my childhood I read and re-read. Instantly I thought of Trixie Belden. It wasn’t just one book though; it was a series. (You might see a pattern here.)

Yes, I was drawn to, and devoured, series that I could relate to, especially mysteries. However, as my sister and I bemoaned, I couldn’t completely relate to them. Why? Because, while the characters in these books seemed to find a mystery everywhere they went, we—tragically—never had One. Single. Mystery.

So, it is no surprise that I write children’s mystery series. Ones in which mysteries appear around every corner!

Cheryl and I used to make a weekly pilgrimage to our local library to get more books. Summer was crammed full with playing outside and reading inside. I don’t know which I liked better.

To celebrate the beginning of summer, starting June 21st  I am hosting a three week read-along on my Double Cousins Mysteries (Ages 7-13) Facebook Page. I have a private group there, Double Cousins Read-Along, where we will be reading the second Double Cousins book—The Mystery of the Torn Map. I will post educational videos exploring different elements of the story’s location and plot, vocabulary words and games, fun puzzles, prize drawings, and more!

Do you have a child in your life that might enjoy this unique opportunity? If so, please share this post with them and encourage them to click this link to be added to the Double Cousins Read Along Group.

https://www.facebook.com/groups/596660531061891/

 

 

What was your “I can read this over and over” book when you were young? Share in the comments below!

As Time Goes By-Of Stuffed Animals and Weddings

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Somewhere, buried in Mom’s photo albums is a picture.

Vonda, my little sister, was good at entertaining herself. She would line up her stuffed animals—and her cat if she was in a tolerant mood—and she would lead them in Sunday School songs, followed by a lesson.

Mom’s picture is of one of these “Sunday School lessons.” A dozen stuffed animals attentively listen from their perch on the couch as Vonda diligently taught her “lesson.”

It seems, not so long ago that Vonda was that little five year old, but yet, we have another generation already grown and getting married.

I teased my niece, Megan, at her wedding a couple of weeks ago, that she might be married, but she was still eight in my mind. That she always would be.

But, as I watched her stand under the lovely trellis with her groom, absolutely princess-level beautiful in her wedding dress; I didn’t see an eight-year-old after all. I saw a woman, and I teared up. Joy? Or sadness?

A bit of both, I guess.

But wait! Maybe one of these days there will be more great-niblings from some of these eight year old brides and grooms.

Possibly a little girl or boy teaching their stuffed animals or pets about Jesus.

Maybe a little girl with three pigtails running with her arms rotating like a windmill “to make her go faster.”

Or, several, gathering around the new books they received from Great-Aunt Miriam.

And, in three blinks, there will be another group of weddings. That’s how life goes, isn’t it?

 

 

For more on the below opportunity follow Double Cousins Mysteries (Ages 7-13) on Facebook!

Daddy’s Yellow Truck

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The other day, someone posed a question. If you could spend an hour visiting with anyone, past or present, who would it be? I immediately thought of Daddy.

Oh, there are many other people from history that I would love to talk to, including my mother and my grandparents. There are also many, still alive, that I would love to visit with for an hour. But still, I would have picked Daddy.

I’m not sure why. Maybe it was because his birthday was coming up (today) and I miss him a lot.

But, today a friend posted a picture of a red truck her son painted. A memory flashed across my mind. It was the story of Daddy’s first memory and it involved a pickup like the one my friend’s son painted, only his was yellow.

Click on the link below to hear Daddy tell the story of the yellow truck. The tapping sound is me typing as he spoke.

Daddy and his brother, Jim.

Interview with Daddy 12142010b First Story a

I have this story because we sat down ten years ago and spent almost ninety minutes talking and recording his memories. I listened to some of it today, including this story and it was bittersweet. I’m so glad I have his voice and the memories.

Slicing the Turkey

I know I harp on this a lot, but our parents aren’t around forever, like we thought they would be. And then there are our grandparents. Get their stories. Use that record feature on your smart phone this Christmas. Let the whole family submit questions. Make it a group activity! Maybe you’ll discover your own yellow truck story.

“Now What?”

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A few years ago a friend asked me a question. “When you finish the Double Cousins Series you aren’t going to be one of those authors that grieve the loss of your characters are you?”

“Probably,” I answered, without a pause. After all, these kids have been “part of my life” since 1999. That’s longer than some of my nieces and nephews. I had no clue when I created Max, Carly, and the rest of the cousins, that they would become so special to me. But they are.

So, that brings up another question. Now that the series is complete, will I just sit around feeling sad?

Or, am I going to remember the question Grandma Jones always asked me when I called after a rejection, or a delay. “Now what?”

Grandma and me with the book!

I think I’ll do that. So, what’s next? I’m so glad you asked! Here is a little bit of a sneak peek at some of the ideas in the queue.

  • First, I am writing a devotional to go with each of the Double Cousins books. These devotions will feature—you guessed it—Max, Carly, and the gang. They are intended to use alongside or independent of the books. I am quite excited about this project.
  • Next, I want to continue the Nearly Twins Mystery Series. This series is set in the South and the first book, The Nearly Twins and the Secret in the Mason Jar, was released in 2016. It is set in Saluda, NC. I have not decided, for sure, where the next mystery will be set but I am leaning toward either Elizabethton TN, or Linville/Crossnore NC.
  • Thirdly, I am planning a picture book telling a story about Grandpa Jones. This was my original dream when I started the writing life.
  • And finally, I have one more project that involves YOU! Last Spring, we presented the first Double Cousins Read Along on Facebook. In January, I will host another one. I’ve debated whether I should use the newest release, The Double Cousins and the Mystery of the Sod Schoolhouse, or go with the second book and continue chronologically. After much thought, I’ve decided to stick with their order and do book two this time. So, in January, we will read The Double Cousins and the Mystery of the Torn Map. I will release the dates soon, so stay tuned. If you don’t have this book, they are available online, through your local bookstore, or from me.

This week I worked hard to learn and successfully install a sign-up button on my website for both the blog and the newsletter. Go to MiriamJonesBradley.com and sign up!

I would love to hear from you in the comment section of the blog! Let me know which idea is your favorite and why.

A Moment to Bask in the Joy

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A couple of weeks ago three boxes of the Double Cousins and the Mystery of the Sod Schoolhouse showed up on my porch. It was an exciting day, very exciting!

But, the excitement was tempered by the fact that I was still recovering from recent foot surgery. Now, however, my mind is kicking into gear and I’m ready to get excited about this. But, I’m a little befuddled.

After all, how on earth did I go from this: 

To this?

I’m not kidding. The realization that I’ve written an entire mystery series—“kind of like Trixie Belden Mysteries, only Christian”, my lifelong dream—has me experiencing a bit of disbelief.

One day, when I was fretting about the fact that I needed to get cracking on marketing for this book, a good friend said this: “Maybe you should just take a moment and bask in the realization that you wrote an entire series.”

Indeed.

So, this morning my husband moved the three boxes of books off of the piano bench and into the guest bedroom so we could take the above photo. And I basked a little as I stood there gazing at the books.

The first book was a dream, something I honestly never thought I would finish. After all, I had a lot of dreams which I never completed.

But God.

God wouldn’t let me give up on this one. He used nieces, nephews, grandparents, writer friends, cousins, and my husband to push me ahead. And miracle of miracles, I finished it and we published it, just in time for Grandma Jones to see it before she went to heaven in 2009.

Grandma and me with the book!

By then, I realized that I would have to write another book about Max and Carly. And another. And so it happened. But getting to my goal of seven? Not sure I really saw it happening. But, idea by idea, book by book, and word by word I kept going. And here I am eleven years later with a completed series.

The Double Cousins Mystery Series.

I’ve been reading a lot while recovering from surgery. I think I’ll pick up this series and read it from beginning to end. After all, it won’t hurt to bask a little more in what God helped me do.

 

The Double Cousins Mysteries are all available through the usual sources. To order directly from the author email me at miriamjonesbradley@gmail.com

Why We Will Never Be Minimalists

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   Three weeks ago I had foot surgery to repair a failed tendon and the damage it had done. I was ready. I’ve worn a brace for six years, so it was time.

   But, surgery is never fun and often inconvenient. After all, six weeks of non-weight bearing and a twelve week recovery wasn’t my idea of a normal fall season.

   Fortunately I have an extremely helpful and resourceful husband. “I’ll have to get that old footstool up from the basement and fix it so you can use it,” he said. I was delighted. We both pictured the small stool we knew was “somewhere” and smiled in delight that it would be used.

   But, when he went looking he didn’t find it. Instead he found another one which I think is actually a better size and didn’t need repaired. So, I started using it.

   I use it in front of my pink rocking chair in the bedroom where I’m currently sitting. I use it under the table, so I can sit and work on my computer or work puzzles without having my foot down the whole time. It has been quite a useful little stool.

   Then my husband asked this. “Do you know where I got this stool?”

   My story radar went off. I love a good story and I wasn’t disappointed. It turns out that when Bruce was in graduate school “umptyjillian years ago”, as he likes to say, he found a wooden box in the lab that was to be thrown away. He took it home. Then he found a piece of foam which he added to the stash, and finally a scrap of brown and tan material. He had all the makings of a stool, except for the castors, which he bought. Now, he just had to put it together.

   “Kay’s dad made it for me,” he continued. Kay was his neighbor and Bruce has been life-long friends with Kay and her late-husband Robin.

   “Really!” I exclaimed.

   “Yep. He asked me what that was all for and I told him. He took it home and brought the footstool back to me.”

   I looked under the table at the ragged old footstool and smiled. A great story, indeed. But Bruce wasn’t done.

   “You know, Kay’s father was a prisoner of war in WWII? And, if I remember right, he was in the Bataan Death March. He was a tough old bird.”

   So, now this rather pitiful looking old ratty footstool has a special place in my heart too.   We are story people and we are people people. And when we connect a story, a person, and an item together. . . well, it’s a very special thing.

   This, folks, is why we will never be minimalists.