skip to main |
skip to sidebar
I've waited all day to give life to these words. Physically, my fingers spent most of my early morning alone with the weight of this image in their possession. Before the rest of my house awoke from their slumber, I spent my minutes magically staring into the end result of Mom behind the lens. There's not one corner of this photograph that my eyes have not poured over. Invested in the outcome of then, I have taken such delight in this captured treasure.
Time and schedules have a way of moving. Don't they though? And, by mid-morning, my physical presence was procured away in proximity from this image focused onto film. But, my mind held a steadfast clamp on this scene above. Today I searched all about him. Today I remembered and reminded myself of the he who he is. I settled into my Dad and stayed right by him all day.
There's a story. And, I want to tell it. For this story is everything the man my Dad is to me. This story sits inside this photograph rich and content as if it has no desire to leave this hallowed space & time. But, telling it is where the beauty of my Dad begins.
The setting was around Thanksgiving as I am wearing my Indian headdress freshly fashioned from Mrs. Carlton's 1980 Kindergarten class. {a special thank you to Jason Lemming who secretly cut for me during craft time as I was left handed before the world of Crayola thought of inventing left handed scissors} My brother and I are standing in chairs. We always stood in chairs when Dad was in the kitchen cooking. The brown bucket is the same bucket we used to wash our dogs, Pete and Muffin. The fresh flowers in the vase were a normalcy in our home. Dad made sure that Mom had fresh flowers in her kitchen. They were never the custom ordered flower shop variety, but more the ones found in the local grocery store. He would arrange them always just for her. The kitchen. It used to be the carport. My Dad's 2 hands alone transformed it into a more useful space for our family. He worked tirelessly after long hours at work and school to make this dream a reality for us. The curtains were sewn by Mom. They were the same curtains that hung in the Volkswagon bus that brought me home from a Colorado hospital 5 years prior. His watch. It hangs on the knob of the cabinet. Free from pumpkin guts and water spills and cleverly placed for viewing sake; my Dad is adeptly skilled in resourceful maneuvers of the simplest things.
My brother is to my left. He's the one manning the wooden spoon with the big metal pot {insert loud banging here}. I have no doubt music surrounds us in addition to the ad hoc orchestra-of-one to my left. Possibly Jim Croce or Gordon Lightfoot. Dan Folgeberg or John Prine.
Then there's him. A picture of absolute happiness. You can feel it before you see it when your eyes take gaze. He knows it too. Suited in his white t-shirt and worn Levi jeans sans one pocket, peace & joy radiate from his face. Pumpkin gutting and with us. His face sends out signals as if to say everything in the world I need is right here. In this kitchen.
This image is so much a part of his DNA to me. It is work and joy and love and doing and together. It is cleverness and romance, resourcefulness and simplicity too. It is laughter and living. He embodies all that this reflection of light can withstand to hold. The story of this image has seeped out of this hallowed one dimensional space and run rampant through me all day.
Today I searched him. Even though physically we were not together on this 24 hour vigil set aside for Fathers, I settled into my Dad and stayed right beside him all day. He is light. He is hope. He is stronger than he realizes in the story of me.
Thank you for your kindness and for making my socks feel just right on my little girl feet. Thank you for my "apple or orange?" in the morning and for falling asleep on the floor by my bed reading me Cinderella. Thank you for telling me I would die if I ate the center of a donut and for showing me the power of a smile.
Today I settled into you and stayed right beside you all day.
I love you,
.mac
What makes a good parent? I often ask myself this question. And, as usual, a heaping myriad of piggy back questions proceed in a gushing trickle down display once this initial inquiry sinks into my thoughts. Is it your proximity to them for meeting their needs? Is it providing them wonderful experiences that heighten their senses and help them to see the world? Is providing them a fruit and vegetable at every meal? Is it making them a chore chart and being consistent with tracking their progress on the road to responsibility? Is it teaching them to floss when they are three?
Do I read enough to them? Do they watch too much TV? Did they just hear a cuss word come out of my mouth? Should I really let him wear that get up out in public? Do you think I am teaching them kindness? Am I showing them God's love? How many gifts should they really get at Christmas? How am I helping them handle and process their feelings? Am I showing them what healthy looks like? If he does that one more time, I am going to light him up. Should I light him up?
See what I mean? It is only when I let go of the 'what ifs' my mind is so adept at conjuring up, that my soul finds the Mama I am to be. I know them.
Eli Garrett is driven. He is masterful in the art of pretend in a very real sense. He is kind and overly critical of himself. He wants things right. He hesitates at trying new things for fear of imperfection. I see him stretching out and growing in his confidence more and more each day. He is highly intuitive. When just a toddler in the grocery buggy, he made it a point to smile and wave at the elderly in the store. He senses loneliness in such a keen way.
My Eli is intelligent and a lover of knowledge. He reads anything he can get his hands on. He is responsible and yet very scattered. His mind thinks creatively much like mine. He is loyal and very decisive. An inkling of introversion is appearing the older her gets. He loves his brother and his family like no other. He is passionate about his convictions and tradition. He is not afraid to speak up when it comes to what is right. He is very fit and strong. He is a mastermind at mathematics with such an optimum sense at seeking out answers. He loves the holidays and celebrations and looking forward to upcoming events. He likes being punctual and prepared. Currently, his heart is questioning his salvation. Questions are being asked about God and His plan for eternity. Kenny and I are fielding these with hopefully the appropriate answers. Our intent is to guide Eli not to push. God knows just when Eli will become His for eternity.
Casey McGill is passion. He is a feeler and wants all of you invested in him. He is a marvel with a crowd. He is noticed and well loved by many. Casey is a risk taker. He is very in tune with his surroundings and his body. He is agile and original. He wants nothing more than laughter and love. He is orderly. Casey has an unbelievable gift at solving problems and forgets nothing. He is creative and loves to pretend.
Casey is unconcerned with what others see as appropriate. His outfits are, at times, nothing short of hilarious. He simply follows his heart and his interests. He is naturally extroverted. He often gets caught up in himself and has trouble thinking about others' needs or wants. I see him at work on looking out and noticing others. At 2 months shy of 6 years old, he loves to compete and to win. He excels athletically and learns new skills with relative ease. He loves math, playing games and stories. God is at work in his life. He questions God and wants proof that he can see. His prayers are very earnest and intentional for the ones he loves and for finding God around him.
What makes a good parent? I don't have a clue. The histrionic inquiries in the pursuit of the premier parent will never cease I imagine. And, perhaps that's what makes a good parent. That continual self-check of just how are you doing.
No, my boys don't floss their teeth and yes, they have been known to say a cuss word a time or two. But, I know them. I see their heart for just what it is and pray for their challenges. I vow to stand beside them in good and bad. I will never leave them. I will never not love them. I anticipate the road will not always be easy as Mom. The tough love is already unbearable at times. But, knowing them for the individual God created them to be, and moving forward in my best way as their Mama each and every day is an honor even when I have to light them up.
.mac :)
It's called leading. Exceeding past one's sense of self only to be catapulted into something profoundly greater. He does this. Innately a part of his composition, through sidelines and game fields, God moves within him. Teaching him. Correcting him when so compelled. Guiding him for His glory and for so many other's greater good. He is a man of hard work and loyalty. He is protective of hope; intensely aware of his place as its facilitator: hands on shoulders, eye contact, smiles and helmet smacks, pats and go gettums.
It's called sacrifice. A pay stub equivalent to less than a part time job's salary at McDonald's does not balance out the countless hours of study, preparation and planning. Late Friday night laundry cycles, endless phone calls and texts fielded from players and parents alike, Thursday night game field painting after practices mixed with a heaping myriad of afternoons/evenings mowing game and practice fields are but a glimpse into his pay stub pennies. Time away from his family is the endless debt he works hard to repay in the winter months known as December, January & February. For his March to November is our borrowed time from the pigskin.
It's called growth. His dedication to building men both fiercely loyal and soundly equipped with tools for life is unwavering. Faith, courage, fight and commitment aren't just buzz words; they are his way of life. Taking the time for self reflection and moving forward with those hard steps of perseverance, his role as coach, most importantly Christ's child, grows roots in soil richer and deeper every year.
It's called a labor of love. God transcends His magnificent light of grace through this man. His walk on this earth is not one of perfection, but one securely held by His undeniable will in his life. Crowds will contradict him; fans may disagree with him, parents may bash him and players may quit him, but God's plan will bleed out in the work that this man puts in. He will have it no other way. To be in His hands and working for His glory is gain. It is the nucleus of the man I know as husband. I want nothing more than to honor him on this Labor Day.
Go Patriots!
Coach Cobble's wife
{June 6, 2012--leaving for our 10 year anniversary trip to Biltmore.}
It was June 8, 2002. I wore a long cathedral length veil and a real poofy dress. He was so very dapper in his silver tie and suit. I can remember walking with my Dad down the aisle. My smile was so big I thought my teeth were going to climb out of my mouth. I remember wanting to pick up the poof part and run real quick to get beside him. His gaze upon me was secure and sweet. I'll never forget.
The celebration was one for the record books. One where dancing and good times were at the top of the list. But what I want to remember right here and right now is the ride home as Mr. and Mrs. Kenny Cobble. He stopped at a car wash to de-garb our "just married"ness before we left on a 7 day honeymoon. I watched my brand new husband in full tuxedo clean his truck from top to bottom while I sat in the cab in my poofy dress with bird seed in my hair, a shiny new ring on my finger and a 3 dozen rose bouquet in my lap. As glistening water droplets cascaded down the windshield, I would wave and he would smile & wink through the soap suds. I remember sitting there rehearsing over and again in my head, "I am Mrs. Kenny Cobble. My name is Meghan Cobble."
And, I am still.
I love this man. He is kind and genuine. Hard working and hopeful. His place next to me continues to grow roots strong and deep. This verse was read at our wedding. I knew little of its width or depth then. Time and togetherness teaches you. It reminds you of your faults and pushes you forward with your strengths. Living out and learning from mistakes as well as rejoicing in the good has taught me so much more about the kind of love God desires from us all.
He wants us to share it. Spread it. Let go of it and trust in its return. As husband and wife, we continue to write our love story. The story of our togetherness is getting better with each chapter we pen. I am thankful for our laughter and love of music. For finding our way to communicate. For the buttons we chose not to push and for the commitment to be the best we can be together. Ten years and 2 sons later, I still want to pick up my poof part and run real quick to get beside him. And, his gaze on me is still secure and sweet.
{Impromptu family photo. Boys had baseball with Papaw on the brain. Not silly pictures!}
Love never fails,
Mrs. Kenny Cobble :)
Making me a necklace. "Mama, I know you're gonna love this one. It's zebra print and furry too! I'm gonna put it next to the hearts cause I just know you're gonna love it." "Mom, I wanted the gold cross on there for you. I told Casey where to put it. It's my favorite piece of the necklace we made you." Making me a necklace. I wore it all day long, don't you know. The sorting and sifting through mama's button jars. -20 fingers I co-created with him- Making a necklace for me.
Then, the date with my 3 men. To a play. Seats 4 in in a row and reserved. But, we only used 3. The Face found his view best in mama's lap. A sideways glance through a filtered theatre glow finds Eli with his head resting on Kenny's shoulder. There is a peaceful kind of happy gazing out of my husband's eyes as he's immersed within the stage. I feel that same kind of happy just looking over at him. Casey's ear lob right next to my stage view; his soft hands sit intently in mine. Unknowingly, he rubs my pinky with his. It's that kind of happy I feel. Full of inquiries, Kenny and I field questions left and right. "Shh, Case, you can't talk in a loud voice!" The night is magical and close. The 4 of us in 3 seats. The walk to the car all holding hands. Rain pouring down. And, still, we walked. Hand-in-hand as if not wanting the magic to end.
My wouldn'ttradethemforamilliondollars happy memories strung together from that day. Together. To my sons and my husband, I thank you. For making me a necklace.
.mac :)
After church on Sunday, my husband and I shared this bag of Funyuns on the car ride home from the grocery.
We held hands too.
And, he surprised me with the newest flavor of Starburst as a treat.
Who needs diamonds and fancy trips?
I would much rather have onion breath and small squares of yummy goodness.
And, holding hands in the car.
.mac :)
p.s. The green Starburst was our favorite. Orange? Notsomuch.
This is a painting Eli did of a church in his Sunday School class when he was just 3 years old.
The moment his little 3 year old hands placed this painting into mine and said, "Look, Mama. My church." was monumentally profound for me.
His church.
I continue to marvel at Eli's color selections for this piece since that very day. Enticingly, his work speaks to me. It sends me a message clear and strong. I find peace each time that my eyes fix upon it.
Its saturated hues of peacock, muddled coral and atniqued brown settle into my heart. Its color intensifies, peaks, and sends out shockwave strokes from steeple to steps.
I often wonder what my 3 year old Eli meant when he left the roof's corner unshaded and the left side steps likewise.
Staring into this church, I get lost.
The intense collection of colors all mingled together as if holding hands. Movements up and down like streaked rays or sturdy columns. And then, empty edges.
I adore the idea of church being just this: all colors mingled together holding hands, sturdy columns and rays too. Sending up. Pouring out. Holding on. From steeple to steps.
Perhaps the empty corners are to remind us that no matter what it is and no matter where you are, there is always room. That a seat is always saved for you:: just you.. A hand is always ready to join yours right where you are in your walk. Better yet, a place is always reserved with your name in God's house.
"Look, Mama. My church." Eli said.
Monumentally profound indeed.
About 2 years ago, I adhered this painting to a canvas I painted and framed it. Since then, it has hung in our home.
It serves as a reminder that no matter what happens in this life, the richness of God's love can saturate one's soul.
And, there is room. Always room.
.mac :)
The role of mother is quite different from the role of the aunt.
Aunt Meghan can worry less about the rights-n-wrongs and focus more on the spoilings-n-sillys of adoring. And, I've got a new niece on the way. Remember my excitement here and here? Miss Mallory Alaine Casey will be here soon! You can only imagine my excitement when I made these matching outfits for next year's Valentine's Day for the sisters.
It's like yesterday I can remember Mollye joining us in this world. I am reminded of my unbridled anticipation and my intense love for her the moment my eyes met her face.
Now, it's so hard to believe that these are the size clothes I make for Mollye Addison! I cannot tell you the amount of fun I had with constructing this ribbon looped initial heart. The picture really does not do justice to the shirt's cute factor. It's all bubbly and fluffy and 3D. I make it a point with handmade items to encourage a client to order a size up in tees. I do this only so that the client will be able to potentially get 2 years use out of a custom order. This shirt is a 4/5. Now to these SUPER DUPER DREAMY pants! Oh, how I heart these! Mollye looks so adorable in the large ruffle look. I love the double ruffle heart-dot combo. I'm even kinda drooling as I stare at these now. And, for a one louder for practicality's sake, I have enough extra fabric in the waistline so that next year all I will have to do is unstitch the band, remeasure Mollye's height and re-install the elastic so that she will be set for one more Valentine's only this time with her little sister! I opted to showcase k.Mac's newest Hair Happies in Mollye's platinum locks. These are called Florets. They are not yet on the website, but I am thinking they are gonna be a popular addition. These come in your choice of clasp. {aligator with no teeth, alligator with tiny teeth or lobster clasp} Coordinating fabric mixed with ribbon sprouts...um, that's a party I wanna go to! And, may I officially introduce to you the very first outfit I have made for my new niece, Mallory Alaine! Kim opted for a jumper as Mallory will be about 8-9 months next Valentine's Day. At that age, easy diaper access is key. I can just see her now with some black leggings and platinum peach fuzz with her Nanny T's blue eyes! EEK! I cannot wait!
Along with the double heart-dot ruffle, I wanted to capitalize on the crisp, clean white hue of Mollye's shirt in Mallory's jumper. I opted to use a dainty tea cup pocket with her monogram trimmed in the same ribbon used in Mollye's shirt. I enjoy the whimsy-ness this pocket has to offer the overall jumper aesthetically.
And, there you have it. My one heart is FULL of the 2 MAC hearts God has entrusted to me as their Aunt Meghan. I have no doubt I will aDoRe every second of loving on these girlies.
How fitting that my first big sister/little sister ensemble is for Valentine's Day.
.mac :)
p.s. These designs have premiered already on my Facebook page. For those blog readers who want just one more avenue of k.Mac goodness, I would be honored to have you!
I could make for her forever. I really could. Thinking of her makes the corners of my mouth sore from all that smiling I do.  With every shift in season, I delight in having little pretties like these ready for that sweet niece of mine.
Made from my hands. For her. And much like my 6th grade hairdos, I am adventurous in my Mollye sewing. Trying new twists on designs and color schemes.  And Mollye makes all my stitches look flawless... These outfits were just a portion of her {mollyemade} Spring Wardrobe for 2010. I fell in love with the versatility of this smock-pantaloons look, I just couldn't stop at one.  I was certain to make matching bloomers for both outfits so that Mollye could have a shorter sundress type smock with matching bloomers and then also sport the pantaloon capris for a completely new look with the smock top.  Can I just pelt out an "eeeeek"for handcut personalization with this lapel pin...  We all know accessories can make or break an outfit...
 And well, I went one louder with an additional Easter egg shirt to wear with those pink pantaloons. I mean the more outfits the merrier, right? You may remember the introduction to this sweet little outfit you see here. time |tīm|noun1 the indefinite continued progress of existence and events in the past, present, and future regarded as a whole
It's that time again.And I haven't even shared with you all of her Spring goodies from Aunt Meg.In fact, none of her Summer handmade lovies either.
But, that's what time does.It pays no heed to documentation; it scoffs at consistency too.It moves.Stretches us all.It takes niece's size seven feetsies and poofs them into size nines in just 3 short months.In one way or another... just look back and you"ll see the marks.
Two sizes.Yes, it's time.
For SIZE 9 shoe shopping.And, I think the corners of my mouth are starting to tingle just a tee-tiny bit.
Aunt Meg :)
 I think married couples need "Save the Date" cards.
You know, the cards that go out about a year before the wedding to remind potential guests of their approaching ceremony in the coming months?
Well, I think married couples need them.
They need them as a reminder to do just that: SAVE THE DATE.
As in, date night.
Marriage is tough. Kids make it tougher. Marriage is meant to last.
With this equation tumbling around in our heads as of late, Kenny and I are making a commitment to keep a better balance of work, kids, & schedules along with the US we started out as.
Across the board, Coach Cobble is raising the bar in our home.
And, can I tell you, that is sooooo attractive!
Thus, last night we saved the date.
P.F. Changs and lotsa talking, flirting, and just being silly together.
The very second we got home it was right back to life as usual, but for a brief 2 hours it was just us. We decided not to hold it just to weekend nights as that limits you even more.
Very cool, I tell you. Very cool.
Marriage is not trying to pretend you are perfect, but rather finding the perfect moments to just be you together.
Thank you to the man that sleeps to my right for reminding me of this.
.mac :)
p.s. I am just now realizing that we were married in the age BEFORE digital. Wow. Grainy pictures and scanning in...
 Mama: "Alright boys. We are going to play outside for 25 minutes before nap time."Boys: {racing off to the front door} {hollers, screams and shouts of "YESSSS!"} Mama: "Hey now. Wait. Do not go out that door just yet." Boys: {squealing sneaker skids to stop and turn} ANTSY and FIDGETING Mama: "I am going to open the garage door for you to get your toys. Do not go near the road. Got it?" Boys: "Yeah, mom! Yeah. We got it! We will meet you at the garage." {busting out the front door}
{GARAGE DOOR RAISING}
I meet 2 little boys with handfuls of sunshine. For me.
Eli: "Mom, we went around and picked every single yellow flower we could find for you as fast as we could!" Casey: "Yeah, we wanted to you have all the flowers."
And I do.
2 handfuls of sunshine. On my kitchen window sill.
I don't have to look back to know that this was a big thing. It's worth every penny to stay at home with these little men.
.mac :)
Sometimes it's tough fighting off the bad guys in life.  Good thing this handsome man's got my back.
|
