The End of an Era. But not the beauty.

There are no photos but I very much wish you could see the three little girls swinging on the swing set they found behind the little shop their parents were working every single night to turn into a beauty shop.

We didn't know then the enormity of our parents' undertaking. We pumped our little legs to go higher and higher but didn't understand it was our mothers taking the real risk. And we certainly didn't understand how long lasting and far reaching their business would be.

49 years. It lasted 49 years.

This week, my sweet mom and her dear sister have announced that they are closing the doors next month of the shop that has been Claudia and Carolyn's Beauty Shop for almost 50 years.  (And trust me, they would have continued beyond 50 were if not for a landlord who made the decision for them -- without them -- after 20 years! I have thoughts and emotions about this but it is not the point here.)

The original shop started as an unattached garage in a sweet little residential area. Layout was planned, rock was brought in to make a parking lot, hairdryers, sinks, and chairs that could spin were added to the little building, and after a ton of work by our families the shop was born.

I grew up there. I spent my days begging my mother to let me brush out her client's hair before she washed it. I cleaned brushes. I took the wraps off the permanent rods. I rinsed those papers and straightened them back out. I emptied the garbage and I swept the hair. 

And I no doubt talked the ears off women coming in for my mom to work her magic. And she did make absolute magic there. I was astounded as a little girl by the transformation that occurred every time someone walked in the door.

I spent summers curling up in the empty hairdryers, reading every single book and magazine left behind by those dear ladies. And it was in the middle of that shop that I was told repeatedly how to dream, how to set goals for my future, and reach for them. The love poured out to me as I grew up led me to always plan trips home with my babies on my Mother's busiest days at the shop. I knew I had to take them in so that the women who had helped raise me could get to know them -- and more importantly so my children could know them!

My mother and her sister started so much more than a beauty shop in 1974. So much more.

My Claire and Aunt Claudia's first granddaughter, Meri Scott!

Mason hiding.

Mom and Aunt Claudia kept their shop in that little building for almost thirty years. I will never forget the day mom called to tell me a fire had destroyed their shop. I was devastated then.  The place I grew up -- the house of my childhood memories -- was gone. And while I was sad and wishing I had more photos, more time there, Mom and Aunt Claudia were looking for a new home for the business that still had years left to go! We all gathered, there was painting to be done, decorating to do and a grand opening for the business that was absolutely necessary to sustain our hopes, our dreams, and some amazing hair! Never once did these two ladies consider letting their dreams die. Never once.

Grand Opening!!

I will tell you that the shop -- smack dab in the middle of a strip mall -- was not nearly as romantic as the original. Three little girls (and eventually the two boys and girl who joined the cousin pack) were grown and didn't have lemonade stands out front. Grown me didn't curl up in empty dryers and read whatever books were left behind (appropriate or no.). And the novelty of the coke machine being filled on a hot summer day was not quite as big a deal.

But do you know what happened? Mom's and Aunt Claudia's grandchildren made memories there:

And women were made beautiful. Friendships were forged and fed. Livelihoods were supported.

But this month, the doors will close. Mom and her sister will continue to do hair in a booth down the road. But the era that has been Claudia and Carolyn's Beauty Shop -- the era that has lasted almost 50 years -- will come to a close.

And I keep hearing Kathleen Kelly from You've Got Mail in my head discussing her business being personal: "Whatever else anything is, it ought to begin by being personal."  I am sad that decisions beyond her control -- decisions I can only assume were more business than personal --  have forced my mom's hand. 

I am sad we can't all gather and bid farewell to the shop that supported us through high school, ensured we could go to college, dressed triplets born while we were in medical school, and sustained my precious mother as she navigated life as a widow for the last 30 years. 

But I am grateful. I am grateful for so much beauty.

Answered Prayer

Tornadoes have devastated my home state -- and those surrounding it -- this week. I am a bazillion miles away and have had to rely on the internet, television and a million phone calls to my mother to ensure all is safe and well where she is. It is. She is good. Praise the Lord.

A whirling mass DID touch down in her backyard, rearranging lawn furniture and leaving some untouched. So strange the ways of twisters.

Many were not so lucky. Lives have been lost. Entire towns devastated and still many missing. My heart just breaks.

And so as I praise God for the safety of those near and dear to me, I am burdened for the many who must be asking where their protector was during the storms. And so I am compelled to share a truth that I have had to learn repeatedly during my adult life: God is in the storm. He is. Sometimes, however, our faith-filled prayers are not answered exactly the way we desire. Sometimes, our sick are not made well. Sometimes, our lame are not made to walk. Sometimes, the storm devastates and destroys. Sometimes, the plan of the Father is simply not the plan of our heart.

And yet, through it all, my beloveds, HE IS FAITHFUL. He will hold you. He will carry you. He will provide the strength you need to make it through whatever trial He brings you up against.

"Have mercy on me,  O God, have mercy on me, for in you my soul takes refuge. I will take refuge in the shadow of your wings, until the disaster has passed. 

My heart is steadfast, O God, my heart is steadfast; I will sing and make music.

I will praise you, O Lord, among the nations; I will sing of you among the peoples. For great is your love, reaching to the heavens; your faithfulness reaches to the skies.

Be exalted, O God, above the heavens; let your glory be over all the earth." Psalm 57: 1, 7, 9-11 (NIV)

And especially, Father God, let your glory be over my beloved South today. Amen.

Once upon a time...

A little girl was born. She was the first grandchild on one side of her family (only by hours, but first nonetheless!) and the last (and 13th) on the other side of her family. And she was loved by all!

Her birth had been prayed for and talked about forever and she was at once adored, doted on and passed around. 

When Wade and I married, this precious girl was only three...but she HAD to be in our wedding. She was a sweet sweet little flower girl (sharing the role with Wade's lovely god-daughter, Ainsley) who twirled her beautiful dress and looked like a little baby doll beside this bride (the 3rd of those 13 grandchildren!).

My groom and I on our wedding day...that is sweet Ali holding my hand!

The years move so fast. A dear 10-old-Ali came to Chicago when the triplets were born to be my helper (along with her Mom!) for a week. (Never mind that she only wanted to hold Claire! ha)

Now, the littlest granddaughter is all grown up and ready to marry her own Prince Charming, Adam. Dear Ali called and asked our littlest -- our Cate -- to be her flower girl. And I had to smile at the complete circle the request made.

My Cate with Ali and her bridesmaids at the lovely Bridesmaid Dinner.

Ali with Cate and Ring-bearer Ty at the Rehearsal.

Cate practicing the "prayer"...she took her job very seriously!

These two practiced and practiced their exit. I am so glad I took this photo at the rehearsal because our dear little ring-bearer got cold feet on wedding day.

With my girls in the garden for photos prior to the wedding!

Ali and Adam had a lovely day for their wedding. Their love for each other and their commitment to a God-honoring union was apparent to all.

Ali and her Dad -- my Uncle Ross.

Ring-bearer and Flower Girl!

Ross and Mason!

Mr. and Mrs. Carnes with my Benjamin!

And watching my daughter serve Ali as flower girl -- well, that was a sweet sweet blessing and a memory we will always hold dear!

Mississippi Mud

As the wife of an engineer-turned-surgeon, I have had to move a lot for school, training, jobs, etc. Most who know me probably think I have a very Pollyanna-approach. And it is true. I know that each place has its share of good, bad, and ugly. I know that each place has its share of beauty, kind people and amazing adventures waiting to be experienced. And honestly, that attitude has served me well.

But sometimes, I long for my beloved Mississippi. I long for time with extended family. I long for my kids to see the red dirt -- roll in it if they must. I long for them to explore the winding path of the Natchez Trace. I long for them to see the rolling Mississippi River.

And in the Spring, I long for the smell of Magnolia blossoms, the beauty of Azalea blooms and the glory that is ONLY Mississippi in the Spring time.

For years, I have heard stories of a Mississippi tradition that my cousins began -- and invited my Mama and aunt to join. The tradition of the McCarty Pottery Sale in Merigold, Mississippi. And well, I have longed to be part of that, too!

Now, Lee and Pup McCarty began making pottery a long time ago -- 1954, I believe. The article I read about them said that William Faulkner took them to his back yard one day and offered them the clay from the Mississippi River that was on his property. As a result, each piece of McCarty Pottery has a brown line in the design representing the mighty Mississippi.

Oh, I love that!

So each March, the McCarty family -- Lee and Pup's nephews are the artisans today -- hold a sale in an old warehouse in Merigold, Mississippi. The sale is made up of all the pieces that the artisans found lacking in one area, or many. And the discounts range from half off to 99 percent off depending on the flaw.

For years, my family have placed chairs at the warehouse to "hold" their spot, weeks in advance at first, now MONTHS in advance. One of the crew has to be in the chair DAILY or the chair is removed from the line. HUNDREDS of people turn out in this little bitty town in the delta of my home state for the opportunity to dig through pottery and fill garbage cans on wheels with their favorite finds.

And guess what? This year. I was there. In person. Not just on the receiving end of a big ole UPS box with treasures my mother found. (Which was wonderful in itself!) But there in person. Digging with my daughter, my cousins, my aunt while my precious Mother stayed outside the warehouse with my boys and littlest girl because she had used her days of sitting in the "chairs" in line for ME!

The chairs...they have been out, labeled with names since early JANUARY!

My boys -- incredible sports -- guarding the garbage cans that serve as shopping carts!

Cate had a blast roaming the "streets" of Merigold! Ah, small town Mississippi!

The warehouse!

I am almost in at this point...I can see the pottery and women are already passing things back for me to put in my "buggy" saying, "Oh, this is a great price it is nearly perfect!"  I had great tutors for the visit!

My cousins knew I wanted vases, so when they found some they passed them back to me -- moving was challenging because the two aisles were narrow and EVERYONE had a garbage can on wheels slowly being loaded with pottery pieces.

The girls from left to right, my daughters Claire and Cate with my Mama, then Aunt Claudia, her daughters, Jan, Angie and Jimma, Jan's daughter, Meg, our cousin Allyson and me!

Oh, it was so much fun. So much fun! I giggled at stories my cousins told. I laughed at my littlest running the 'streets' of town with her new playmate, my cousin Jimma's daughter, Avery. And I took every hint they offered on what would take place when we were permitted in the doors.

And then I almost froze completely. So amazed was I at all the pottery, shoved here there, under tables, and everywhere! Some pieces looked perfect, some near disaster. And then suddenly the rush was on. My cousins were passing me pieces, giving me tips on how to use it, decorate with it, or fix it if need be. My daughter caught on faster than I did and began calling to me from across the aisle, "Mom, look at this? What do you think?" As she fell in love with the utterly and complete Southerness of the whole experience.

When I came out, Mason said, "Mom, I kept hearing your voice, and I would think, oh, she is coming out now. But you wouldn't come. Then I would hear you again. But still you wouldn't come out. Finally, after about the fifth time, I realized, 'Oh, everybody in Mississippi sounds like my Mom!"

Don't you love it?!

We had a blast. We had fun with family we don't see often enough. We found some amazing pottery pieces (you'll have to stay tuned for how I use them!). But mainly, I made memories with my kids (and  in the South -- doing something so completely Southern). And, well, that is a blessing that will make me smile for a long long time!