I said that to a friend of mine one time, and she looked at me and asked "How do you do that, Marilyn?" "Do what?" I replied. "Get a wiggle on. I want to see you do it." We both had a big laugh. She's from "up north", and had never heard the expression.
Living in New York City when I was in my 20s, the people there always asked me where I was from. Taxi drivers prided themselves on being able to determine locale by anyone's accent. They never guessed I was from Texas. Usually, they guessed Boston or Florida. Then late one afternoon I dropped into a little shop in Greenwich Village close to my apartment. As the door bell tinkled, I stuck my head in and asked the gentleman behind the counter, "Are you fixin' to close?" He grinned really big and said, "You've got to be from Texas!" I was dismayed that I had been found out! Seems he had been stationed at Lackland Air Force Base in San Antonio years before. "You never hear 'fixin' to' anywhere but Texas." he told me. You know, since that day I am always "getting ready to" do something -- but never am I "fixin' to"!
|Matthew Delivering Donations @ Bastrop|
Most of you have heard about the horrendous wildfires going on not only in the Austin area, but all over Texas. I spent a tense three days as the news filled with stories of the fire in Steiner Ranch where my son Matthew and his family live. They evacuated, taking their pet Corgi Jasmine, and spent two nights in friends' homes, not knowing whether or not they would have a home to go home to. Matthew was very philosophical about the whole thing, and remained calm -- which helped me. He told me that he got the most important things out -- his family. He said the rest is "just stuff, Mom", and can be replaced. He has good insurance, though, as many people do not.
Back home, after a hot shower (they have a gas water heater, but there was no electricity at first), and counting their blessings, Matthew began working on getting donations together to help fire victims who were not so lucky. He was "paying it forward". He's shown above in Bastrop, where over 1,300 homes were completely burned to the ground. Last night I heard the Bastrop wildfire is still only 40% contained.
Matthew is my youngest child, born when I was a little more mature -- nearly thirty years old. Knowing he probably would be my last baby, I remember holding him in the wee hours of the morning, long after he had finished nursing and had fallen asleep, rocking him gently and feeling that there was something very special about this happy little baby. As he has grown, Matthew has had more trials than most young people. At the age of twenty he began a series of terrible losses of people he loved. Instead of becoming bitter and cynical, or self-pitying, Matt has grown into a big-hearted, generous man who is "always there" for anyone in need. Family, friends, or strangers. He's an optimist who sees the glass as half-full instead of half-empty. He might scoff if he hears me say that he is more Christian than a lot of folks who are in church every time the doors open. He may not profess to be Christian, but he is spiritual, and embodies all the good qualities one would expect in a Christian.
Now don't think I think he's perfect! As the card he gave me on Mother's Day said, "You mean I can't fly?" No, Matthew, you still can't fly! However, this is one kid that I never had to warn "Get a wiggle on! You're going to be late!" Oh, I don't think he ever gets "lost" either. He has a GPS. (And Mom's prayers.)
And he's always "getting ready" to do something that makes me a proud Mom.
Peace and love,