Saturday, February 14, 2015
February
February fools us into spring thinking. We had a few short days of 40 degrees, and now this weekend, we have wind chill of 20 below. The warm days stay in our heads though, and we can start counting the days until the first day of real spring. Which can easily involve snow. Gary and I were married on March 16, and it snowed that day. One year in the 90s when the girls were still home, we had several days of blizzard like weather at the end of February.
February-where does that word come from and why is it such a difficult word to spell? I just corrected three misspellings.
Origin-
"February, second month of the Gregorian calendar. It was named after Februalia, the Roman festival of purification. Originally, February was the last month of the Roman calendar."
Spelling and pronunciation-
Disimilation may occur when a word contains two identical or closely related sounds, resulting in the change or loss of one of them. This happens regularly in February, which is more often pronounced \ˈfe-b(y)ə-ˌwer-ē\ than \ˈfe-brə-ˌwer-ē\, though all of these variants are in frequent use and widely accepted.
As time passes and we become less as spellers and readers, I believe the word will transform to Febuary from just general usage. Or it will simply change to 02 as we all say into the robotic phone voice when asked for date of birth or as we write on the official forms requiring vital information. For me, now it is easier to think in terms of the numbers.
Number dates such as 12/12/12 even make the news. On these repeating number dates, superstitions about luck play a part in marriage, birth and even gambling in Vegas. Any event on a palindrome date can mean prosperity or luck. Not much is mentioned about a death on i.e. 2/2/2 or 9/9/9. It might only be important to a genealogist as an easy way to identify and remember grandma. My grandmother died on April Fool's Day, 2001. That says a lot more than 04/02/01. She is probably laughing about her day to die.
So February gives us a forward look into sun and warmth. And it is short. My sister Leah was born on Ground Hogs Day and was teased for it. Every four years, the month has an extra day added to bring time, the calendar and the sun into compliance/adjustment. I do not know anyone with a 02/29 birthday. Oh that would be confusing telling your age since at 20 you would have only had 5 birthdates.
Presidents Day is now a third Monday holiday in February. That way we can celebrate all great presidents, not just Washington and Lincoln on the 22nd and 12th. When I was in school we drew pictures of their silhouettes to hang on the bulletin boards. How do children notice them now? Certainly not all their silhouettes or do they get to pick a favorite. Nixon had quite a nose for his profile. Does anyone remember Martin Van Buren's likeness? We used to see their photos on the school calendar.
That brings me to another random thought. When I meet my Mother in heaven, which face will she have? I hope she will be the young guitar playing redhead of her youth who I never knew. She looked carefree in the old pictures. I cant think that she will be the tired worn young mother of seven. Nor will she be as I knew her in age after years of factory work and worry and stress. "We shall be like Him". Enough. Glorious.
Todays is Valentines Day. A day to celebrate our sweethearts. Time for roses and candy and now jewelry. I made cards for Gary and the grandkids this year. They like to get mail and money. And I helped make 4 valentines boxes. We used colorful patterned duct tape. Checkered racing stripes, camouflage, and flowers. And some hearts glued on. I hope someone still uses tissue paper flowers. In pink and red.
Another random thought. I wrote a story from my memories and thoughts. It is true. That is all I know. When my sister reads my story and remembers a shared event differently does it mean my story is false? Please let me know your opinions.
14 more days until March. In like a lamb, out like a lion and vice versa.
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No, Karen, I do not think a story is false when we remember it differently than someone else. We remember things as we wish them to be or when the story had a positive or negative impact on our lives. I have many fond memories of my wonderful childhood. I like to remember my time growing up at home with loving brothers and sisters and great parents. I know that there were "issues" but good always beats the bad. I know that we did not always get along but love always returned. Our stories that we remember and tell and retell are from our individual point of view. I cannot see the world through your eyes and you cannot see through mine. Through our conversations and stories we try to share the way we "see" the world around us. Yes, I remember the bad times as well as the good times growing up. But, I will always remember loving brothers and sisters and Mother and Daddy, playing board games on a Sunday afternoon, Thanksgiving dinner with all the family, food (and, oh, the food, the food, the food), the heat in the house and the cold the next with the coal fired furnace, Christmas day with the anticipation of gifts big and small (yes, the times that the gifts were one used toy and much needed jeans), the wind outside and the cold air creeping in through the cracks in our uninsulated house. I choose to remember the smell of freshly bailed hay, not the itchiness that comes with the sweat filled day, the smell and feel of a heavy fog on a warm summer evening, the sound of frogs croaking after a rain, lightening bugs, the sound of the wind under the eaves but not the threatening storm, the beauty of a heavy snow fall and the fresh tracks made in it to the barn to do chores, the smells of the barn in the cold. I remember Daddy walking the floor carrying me all night long while I had a toothache and rocking me in the rocker that I now have at my house and sit in from time to time. I remember Mother on her knees by her bedside praying to God, naming our names and those of aunts and uncles and cousins one by one, asking God to bless, heal, forgive and love us all. I will always remember the power failures (but not the dangerous storms) on Tickridge with the aroma of cornbread and coffee on the wood-fired stove and Mother praying and telling us that all would be well. The hills and woods to run through, playing "bears," and "Annie Over," the comfort that the family bible gave me to hold and smell the pages during rough times, the smell of freshly turned ground in the garden, the feel of that cool earth on my bear feet, the taste of Mother's tomato juice, dried beans, corn bread, honey from a honey tree, the taste of malt from the making of molasses, trying to catch our horse "Old Bob" and Larry trying to tell us "he won't hurt you." I remember the music of the 60's when my sisters would have a party at our house, the kiss on my right cheek when Larry was on his way to Vietnam and I did not know if I would ever see him again. I remember when I did see him again and he had changed so much I could hardly recognize him. I remember my first trip home after I had ran away from home, the happiness I felt when I married the woman of my dreams, the birth of my children and their marriages and birth of their children, I remember realizing that my wife is my best friend. I remember when I accepted Christ as my savior and how little I am and how much I need Him and how much He loves me. I tell stories about these memories and tell them again. Others may remember stories of our childhood and life differently but then again others are not living our lives; we are. They are not wrong in their memory but then again we are not wrong because we see through our eyes and hearts. I love the life I have lived, the family I have, friends I have made, the experiences I have had. There have been tough times but the good times will always overrule the bad times. Love to all my family and friends. Love to you, my sister Karen, the "Redhead."
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