I haven't been inspired lately. Hence, no blog. I need to be inspired. I just got inspired.
Mom, if you are reading this, breathe. "Bad luck diamonds, mom."
When I was growing up, my Grandfather Carl Bahneman was a fabulous carpenter. So, I took him up on it. I asked him to make me a cradle.
I had it all planned out. College, career, husband and babies, Several of them. Maybe lots. And they would all start out in the cradle.
Well, as the title says "it wasn't supposed to be this way."
The cradle was used, over and over again, just not by me. My nieces and nephew, God daughters, my mom's best friend's grand kids, adopted infants, cousin's babies and some I may have left out.
I am guessing, 25 babies slept in the handmade cradle.
And finally, some 26 years later, Walker slept in the cradle. The cradle finally made it's way to me and my first baby.
Thirteen months later when Adeline came home from the hospital, she didn't get to sleep in the cradle. Walker could walk and we just didn't trust him and his hands around her.
I placed the cradle upstairs in the bonus room. It was home. I got to use the cradle late in life. Only one of my three children slept in the cradle. The "button" was 4 when we adopted him so obviously too big and Adeline slept in a bassinet. None of this was they way I had planned when my grandfather made this cradle but it was okay.
A few years later, my friend was having a baby. Her baby was very special. It was her second baby. Her first child had passed and she and her husband had the love to have another child. They were over the moon. I was over the moon for them.
At her shower, I presented her with my cradle to use for her baby. It seemed fitting. Her life was different from what she had planned and I wrote her a note with the names of all the babies that started out their lives in the cradle. I was so happy that she loved the cradle.
Shortly after her son was born, her sister announced she was having a baby and the cradle moved on. Between my friend and her sister, there were several years of birthing.
About two years ago, I called my friend and asked her if she could return the cradle.
There was a pause, then a "I will get back to you and then finally THE phone call. "I cannot find the cradle. I have no idea where it is and I am so hoping this doesn't ruin our friendship. I am so upset."
You always run the risk of something like this happening when you lend something. Always. I wasn't angry and I certainly wasn't going to let this ruin a great friendship.
I was nervous about my mom. She always finds out about these kinds of things. It is a "mom" thing I guess.
So, fast forward 2018.
It had been a bad week. Not just a bad week, but a BAD week. Horrible news, work, horrible news. And then my dryer stopped heating. Now, I know that is not monumental to have a dryer break but I have to do two loads per day just to stay in survival mode at Shoreline Drive. In the past two years, every appliance or anything with an off button has gone including my Sonicare toothbrush which died one week to the day of my dryer. I was pissed, one week away from pay day and wasn't feeling spending money on a new dryer.
I was returning to my office after a client call when, on a whim, I swung into the Hem (local thrift store in our area). I have had the best luck there with sweepers, (vacuums), etc and I decided to see if they had a dryer.
When I walked to the area when the dryers are, there was a man in the area with me. He smelled like I have never smelled before. He too was in the need of a washer and a dryer and I could tell he hadn't bathed for 14 days or washed his clothes. I couldn't tell if it was dirty ass or body odor but it was awful. No dryer, but tons of body odor.
I wanted to swing into the other side of the store just to look but the body odor man was walking in front of me and the odor was soooo bad I was afraid folks would think it was me so I decided not to go in. I couldn't take it. I walked out of the building and then said, "what is wrong with you? Go in there." And I did.
I walked back into the hem and there, right in front of the cash register was my cradle. Right there. Right in front of my eyes. I was stunned. I knew it was mine. There is a rod that you slide into the main body of the cradle to keep it from rocking and I had also gotten a smudge of paint on it and there was the smudge. It was my cradle after 11 years.
I called my friend who runs the store, I had to know who dropped it off and where it came from. Then I called my other friend and said, "my cradle is at the hem."
Here is the bizarre part, I never went over to the cash register. I was so stunned and determined to find out how it got there that it forgot about that part. I mean it was mine and I just forgot about going and paying for the cradle. How did my cradle get to the Hem?
My friend went and picked it up. It is home. Back in the bonus room waiting for my nieces to pop out babies I guess.
My other friend, who runs the store called me back. The cradle was dropped off by a man minutes before I walked in. Minutes. The cradle was the only thing he dropped off.
I was floored by this.
And then, I was reminded that my sweet friend's sister, married, three kids, divorced, about to be remarried, discovered she was pregnant at 40. Never did she think her life would be like this. There is a trend here.
I needed to be inspired. Especially because if my mom found out I lost the cradle she was going to kill me so I got inspired.
Friendships, babies, life's surprises, God, all of those inspired me.
I have to say, I cannot quit thinking about the man who dropped the cradle off, what was his story and who was the cradle used for and what made him drop it off that very day I was there with smelly man?
And, what made me turn around? I was almost to my car. What was the nagging thing inside my brain that said turn around? I think the Man upstairs pushed me into the store. In fact, I am certain of it.
I cannot wait to give my sweet friend's sister's baby shower and laugh and talk about her life that was changed up. And yes, I will present her with her with a cradle....cradle and all.
