One More Day

My grandmother, whom we always called MeeMa, would have turned 104 years-old this very day, August 18, if she was still with us. I think she was born in 1906, or close to it.  I don't know a whole lot about her early life, but she married my grandfather and they had four children:  First, two boys, then two girls, the older girl being my mother, now close to eighty years old herself.

They lived in Hot Springs, Arkansas and raised their family there, where most of them also settled, or at least somewhat near by.  Not my mom!   She came out to California and married my dad, where they remained and raised their family -- my brother and I.

Regardless of this distance between us, I grew up feeling close to my grandparents.  We really only visited about once a year, if that often, but we were letter-writers, so I took my time and shared a lot of what was going on with her California family. I guess I loved writing even back then.

It was in her later years, after my grandfather passed away, that we grew even closer.  She had moved in with my mom's sister, and used to come out to CA to stay with us for a few months at a time.  It was during these years that I discovered what a truly amazing woman she was.  She was very spiritual and shared many of her beliefs with us, but only when we asked.  She lived her beliefs, and treated everyone she met AND those closest to her especially, with the utmost respect.  It seemed it made her happiest when she could be helpful to one of us, and she was always doing something for someone. She used to tell me, whenever I'd be worried about something, to just let it go, and to try and help someone else to get my mind off my own worries! 

Oh she was an amazing cook!  She could whip up the best meal ever using whatever left-overs she could find -- and she kept a close eye on those and the staples to make sure she used them up before anything could go bad.  Of course, she raised her family during the depression years, so they learned to make due with whatever they could get back then.  She did not believe in being wasteful! 

She taught me how to crochet, and we three gals  (her, my mom, and I) would work on our afghans in the evenings after dinner chores were done.  She was really fond of playing cards, too, and would often beat us all, much to her delight.  Above all, she taught me a lot about loving and respecting others, and doing what was right, but also knowing when to back off and just let things be.  Of course, I am hopefully still growing in those areas, and have about another forty-years of livin' before I will have reached her ripe old age and hopefully the wisdom that comes with it!

I so wish I could have just one more day with you, Meema.  Much love to you today, on what would have been your birthday, and everyday.  Although you've been gone for a number of years now, I carry you close in my heart still..... and always will. ♥

Wearing one of her own beautifully crocheted ponchos

Her last Easter Sunday, watching the kids on an egg-hunt.
I spoke with her on this day, and she told me she didn't want me
to be sad when she passed -- she'd had such a wonderful life.
She died about a month later.
Elga Ada Tillman Irons

My Addiction

My love for stained glass began many years ago when my sister-in-law, Chris, began learning the craft. She offered to teach me many times throughout the years, but I was working and juggling so much with my three children's activities, I knew I didn't have the time to devote to it.


When we were building our new home, my grandmother insisted I take a monetary gift from her to put toward something we needed. I just couldn't see spending it on drywall, flooring, or paint, but I knew immediately what I wanted to do with it. I asked grandma what her favorite flower was, and I commissioned Chris to make a window for our home, featuring her favorite, the Iris. That was back in 1991, and though grandma is sadly no longer with us, I think of her every day as I look at that window, still beautifully displayed in our dining room.


In August of 2002, I finally took Chris up on her offer for a lesson in stained-glass. I can not tell you the satisfaction I felt when I held that first finished piece in my hands and saw the light glimmering through it. It was like this fire just lit right under me, and Chris just knowingly smiled...... From there, I immediately enrolled in an adult-education class and attended for roughly four years! It was an open workshop, with a teacher around who could lend a hand and/or give advice along the way if needed. It was there that I ventured into leaded-glass and mosaics as well.

Yes, I freely and proudly admit, I became a glass-addict. Luckily my husband was as excited as me with my new-found addiction and became my biggest supporter and fan. What an amazing man he is, my Rey. He so willingly helped me collect the tools, and set up a space in the garage to work at. Need help framing something? "No problem," he’d say. “Let me get my tools.”



After a few years, we moved my studio into one of our spare bedrooms. I would've been happy just having my work-space indoors, but he insisted he paint it first and redo the floor...then we hung all the art work I had been saving for just such a space. I have to admit, it came out nice!


Having my studio has made my glass-working so much more enjoyable and productive, and I love being in my peaceful little space where I can dream, plan, and yes, feed my addiction.