The Best Day

Rarely are there days that measure up to the fantasy in life, and if we are lucky, we get a few of those. And indeed, this day surpassed anything that I had imagined. And I had to savor it for a while, enjoy the wonderful splendid before sharing,

The trip was planned for months and we were both excited. We were going with great friends and my man’s God daughter up into the Colorado mountains for day hikes and good unplugged quality time spent together. A beautiful cabin where we could see the stars, hear the crickets, and enjoy the clean fresh air. We would cook, laugh, drink, hike, and have a great time. It was beautiful. The day before we left was a flurry of activity getting everything ready and packed. And then the morning of the trip, I only forgot one thing as we headed to the airport – my make up bag. But we were going hiking in the mountains, I wouldn’t need make up anyway…

The best day started out like any other – coffee in my PJs, but with the added benefit of siting out on the deck enjoying the crisp mountain air. Then it was time to get ready for our first hike. I was a little nervous as I haven’t been hiking at that elevation in a long time.

The start of the hike was good, but hot and I was sweating. The young girl who was with us had never been hiking or at that elevation, so I was thankful when she wanted to stop quite often to rest, because then I didn’t have to ask. As we hiked up toward the middle of the mountain it got cooler and soon I got a chill. My man and his best friend noticed that the clouds were gathering in the distance and it looked like rain, a lot of rain. At first they thought the weather wasn’t moving fast enough to get us, but they soon changed their minds as we picked up pace to the top of the mountain.

At first it was just a few sprinkles, then a few more and increased until it was a good rain storm. I was thankful that I had my raincoat and put it on as we headed up toward the peak. And then I felt several small hits on my head through the rain coat and looked to the ground…Hail? Was it actually Hailing? Yes it was. The last track to the top was a sprint as we all headed towards a hiking shelter. The five of us, soaking wet, got in laughing and happy for the structure, complete with benches, tables, nap space, and a primitive bathroom. We ate lunch and rested as we waited out the storm.

When the rain cleared it was time to walk around outside and explore the views. Our friends asked me to check on my man who was sitting up on a rock, while they looked around a bit. As I slid beside him and asked how he was, he answered that he was good, and was just thinking about what a long journey it had been. Me, not thinking anything of it, responded with something like, “Yes, but the rain and hail didn’t last long and look at this beautiful view!” I was about to find out how wrong and clueless I was.

He smiled, let go of my hand, stood up, turned around, and then dropped to one knee. He was almost halfway though before I actually realized what was going on. And in that moment, the whole world stood still.

“I love you. Will you marry me?”

I was shocked and had no idea he was planning to ask that day. I started crying and I wanted nothing more than that moment to l last…I took a deep breath and said…”Maybe,” and smiled ear to ear. And then burst into tears and said “YES!”

And that was the best day. A day that I was reminded of all my prayers that were answered when this man and I found each other. A day that will forever make me smile and ever so thankful that such a wonderful man loves me . And how blessed were are that we have a love, deep in faith, that will last.

US

An on the humorous side of fantasy versus reality, when a woman thinks about the moment the love of her life proposes, she automatically assumes she will look good – hair and make up done, and wearing a great outfit. In the reality of the moment…I forgot to pack my makeup so wasn’t wearing any for the trip. My hair was pulled back in a common pony tail, and a but frizzed from all of the rain and hail. I was wearing wet hiking clothes and I looked like a confused squirrel. And it made no difference. In that moment, I felt like the most beautiful woman in the world. And I am the luckiest and most blessed woman in the world to have this man by my side, in love.

Christmas to You

Hi Mom and Dad,

It’s me. And it’s Christmas. A time of year that is for those of us who have lost loved ones. Oh, and I do miss you so much that my heart aches. But I have to tell you something – I am happy. Blissfully, wonderfully, ridiculously happy. For the first time in many years. Happy like I was I my early 20’s, carefree and loved. I wish you could see my smile, and hear it in my voice. But maybe you can as you watch over me.

Even with this happy, wonderful life, I still miss you. No matter how long it has been, no matter how happy I am, I will never stop missing you guys. There ar still so many times I have thought, “I have tell call and tell Mom about this or that…” Even after this many years. I suppose I’ll always want to pick up the phone and call you.

And it’s Christmas Eve, and in my new life, there is so much love and happiness. So many people to see, and love, and gifts to wrap and wonderful to experience. And yet, I still think back to our Christmas Eves, when all of us gathered at your house, wrapping and laughing and living and drinking wine, and sneaking things into each others Christmas stockings. And how to integrate some of our traditions into my life with this family now.

And all of your recipes and cooking and reading your book. And so much love. The amount of love you raised us with is truly amazing. But I guess that originated from your faith in God and your love for each other.

I just wanted to let you know that I am happy this year. In the new house, with my wonderful man, making this life together. But I will always love and miss you guys. And I love when you visit my in my dreams. And I really love when we get a chance to hug in those dreams. No matter how long you live, there can never be enough hugs.

This is what you always wanted for me. I am here. And I hope that you can see me. I hope that you still send me signs, hope that you keep watching over us. And I hope you are proud of me. Because the older I get, the more proud I am of the two of you, and all that you did, and were, and taught me.

Merry Christmas Mom and Dad. I will love you forever and miss you always.

Hi Guys

Hi Guys,

Mom and Dad, I love and miss you so much, more than words can say.

I have been doing everything to take care of the estate.  We had buyers for the compound then two weeks before closing hurricane Michael cam e through.  It didn’t destroy the place (thanks to your incredible design and insistence that it be build beyond code Dad), but it did sustain damage.  Contractors are working on it. I have no idea what I am doing, but think I have navigated it pretty well.  I hope you are proud, and I hope I have done things up to your incredible standards. Thank you for teaching me such integrity.

When I go there now, I see glimpses of you and Dad, but I don’t feel you there anymore. I think you guys are off dancing somewhere else in the universe, happy to be together. And I think you come back to visit when I am there, but you do not stay. After all, there must be so much to do in the afterlife. And I am sure that you are the social butterfly you always were, Mom, Making friends and laughing where ever you go  And Dad, I know you are just happy to be with her, warmed by the light of her. So many people have and are helping me because of how much they loved you guys.

In a way I wonder if the hurricane was when you guys decided to leave the compound, use it as your exit. Mom, the gardens you made were destroyed, but most of the fruit trees made it. I guess in a way this makes it (emotionally) easier to sell, which is a blessing in it’s own way.

The family is a mess, if you can say it even exists at all.  I have tried to put the siblings back together, but some things cannot be unbroken. And so I accept that I am alone.  The cousins have been wonderful though, even though I have not had time to talk to them much.  But they are very loving and kind.  They are my last connection to you Dad and I want to keep those relationships going.  I plan to see them all this coming year.

Mom, I cannot believe it has been almost 2.5 years since you passed away. I don;t know how I have done all of this without you.  Accept I know you and God have been guiding me. I feel you so close sometimes, that I almost feel like I could reach out and touch you.  But I can’t. I wish you would visit me more in my dreams. And I love when you and Dad give me signs, like the rainbow yesterday.

As hard as it will be to finally sell the compound, I am looking forward to the closure.  You guys know how hard this has all been and how long it has taken to handle everything.  It is time for that closure and for me to live my life, finally free. I am planning where to go and what to do after it all settles down.  I am thinking of what I want life to be for me. I am not sure what it all looks like yet, but there is time.

The holidays (I think) will be easier this year than last.  Last year was rough. But that first year always is. I am ready for it now. And I am taking a friends advice…I am not making it about family, but about love and friendships and laughter and making good memories. I will be with friends who, I am learning, are our family of choice. I wonder if you ever spent a Christmas alone like I did last year, Mom. And I wonder was it hard for your too?  But this year is different.

I used to hate the idea of time passing without you guys. I still hate it, but I cannot change it, so instead I am learning to embrace it more.  I look forward to not being able to say “My Dad died last year.” Because it means that I am moving forward like I know you would want me to. Like I know that I have to. I know that the best way to honor you, and to honor God, is to find all the Joy that life can hold.  And I will.  I will make this life spectacular. All the while, never forgetting that it is your blood that flows through my veins, my beautiful, beautiful parents.

I am going to decorate for Christmas like crazy this year. Two Christmas trees and ALL of the decorations. I will sit and be warm in the glow of everything Christmas and feel close to you both. I will not only embrace the holidays, I will choose to flourish and be  love. And if I don’t have family around, then I will make my own world with all of my friends I love and who love me the most. Life can never be the same, but I can choose to make a life where I am happy and loved.  If we write our own lives, then I can do that. If I don’t feel like I fit in or belong, then I will create my own world where I do.

I still listen to your voicemails, and they make me smile. I never want to forget the sound of your voices. Please keep watching over me and guiding me. And I hope that I make you proud. I have tried very hard to have Grace, but still be tough when needed. It can be a hard balance sometimes. Somehow both of you mastered it, and I hope to one day as well.

I hope you guys are happy where ever you are. And I often wonder, when I look at the moon, if you see it too from your view? Or are you magnificent stars, seeing the moon for yourself? Do you get to see the world, like you always wanted, traveling a new wavelength we cannot yet understand here on Earth? If so, I bet it is spectacular. Or, are you angels, helping just like you did here, just in a different way?

Know that I love you so very much, more than words can say. I honestly don;t know if I love you or miss you more? I carry you with me always. ee cummings said it best. Love you guys, always.

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in

my heart)i am never without it(anywhere

i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done

by only me is your doing,my darling)

                                                      i fear

no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want

no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)

and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

 

 

 

Collateral Faith

Everything you want is on the other side of fear.

Many times in life we have to take a leap of faith to reach our goals.  We must work hard, take risks, create true priorities and stick with them.  And we must do one more thing…  we must have Collateral faith.  A deep unexplainable belief that it will all work out, some how, some way.   We must believe in every day miracles. We must believe in Grace.

To me the word collateral means the entire field, so to pair it with Faith means that we must have faith on all levels, even when our knees are shaking and our voice is trembling.  It is when we are the most unsure that our faith in the world around us must be the most steadfast.  Because faith will get you through many dark hours.

But that is hard. But the alternative is not acceptable. We have all met the alternative – those people who are forever negative. They expect things to go wrong. Where they place their faith, their thoughts, their hopes, is where their life lands. So if that is the case, which we have seen over and over, then why not put all your faith and belief in the fact that it will all work out?  Why not believe that the odds are ever in our favor? Even if there are bumps and hard times along the way, you will always be safe in the knowledge that eventually, it will be OK.

The alternative is to be so negative and riddled with fear, that we become our own self fulling prophecy. All decisions we make come down to love and faith, or fear.  And fear is no way to live. Fear paralyzes us, steals joy and sucks the life right out of us.

There are several pivotal events in my life right now. I have worked very hard to make these possibilities come to fruition, and much hard work is still ahead. I have calculated the risks, and some are very high.  But I must believe, collaterally, that it will all work out. I pray that the timing, which is so very important, happens smoothly.  Because sometimes there is nothing else you can do, but have that faith.  After all the work, all the sweat, and blood, and tears, and late nights, and negotiations, and thoughts…all that you can control, is your faith.

It is exciting and terrifying at the same time.  But that is just how life is isn’t it? And so it goes, in this crazy, wonderful, amazing, journey. Life is short. Make it spectacular.

Let the Fierce within you sleep

Though she be but little, she is fierce. –  Shakespeare

It has been said by many that you must be fierce in order to survive in this day and age.  Indeed, with internet trolls, bullying, rude people, and those who just don’t care, it’s a tough world out there. And indeed, I have had to be fierce as well.  Especially after the passing of my parents.  Dealing with estate issues, family issues, legal issues and financial issues, I was all issued out.  And I had to be assertive to make sure that everything was done correctly, on time and by the right people.

But being fierce will also wear you out.  Because you must constantly be on the lookout, always aware, always “on.” You cannot be fierce all the time, you must be able to relax and enjoy life too. You must be able to be vulnerable, to laugh and smile and have fun as well. You must be able to have compassion and empathy and kindness and grace. The fact of the matter is that there is a season for everything in life, and fierceness cannot last.

With God, you are stronger than your struggles and more fierce than your fears.

And so it is with me.  This is the season, this summer, of relaxing.  Of having fun. Of enjoying fireflies and putting my bare feet up on the dash board while singing at the top of my lungs. It is planting 130+ day lilies from my mother’s garden.  It is enjoying the smell of the honey suckle and watching the humming birds at the feeder. It is spending time with sick friends, talking softly over fears and memories. It is walking in the woods, being in nature and breathing deeply.  It is live music, and many concerts that I will be attending this summer.

The mountains, the forest, and the sea, render men savage; they develop the fierce, but yet do not destroy the human. – Victor Hugo

When you are strong, you do not need to wear that strength and fierceness on your sleeve, you do not need to advertise it or make sure that others see it.  It is there, when you need it.  And whether or not it is seen is not your concern. Your concern is to be happy, and to love life. You concern is to live the life you intended, the life you will be happy with in your last moments, will as few regrets as possible.  Your concern is to smile at the sun and howl at the moon, to run with the starts and sing with the wind.

I don’t always feel fierce and fearless, but I do feel like I’m a rock star at being human. – Tracee Ellis Ross

And I will let the fierce within me sleep.  I have fought to have everything in order, I have fought to put myself back together, one heartbeat at a time.  I have fought to have only those who deserve to be at my table, and I have fought to drive out those who are not worthy. My soul needs the rest and my mind needs to fun. My lips need to smile and my heart needs to laugh.

And so goes.

The interval between the decay of the old and the formation and establishment of the new constitutes a period of transition which must always necessarily be one of uncertainty, confusion, error, and wild and fierce fanaticism.  – John C. Calhoun

The House of Love

We all have dreams, goals, and work hard to have the life that we want, the life that we envision for ourselves. It has been a challenge for me to figure out what I want my life to be and look like with all the recent changes. But reshaping my life is part of healing and moving forward. 

One thing is for sure, when we decide what it is we want our life to be, and how to serve our purpose, then we must work hard to make it happen. Just like a house takes effort to build, so does our life, one brick at a time. 

And while I may not have all the details worked out yet, I know what I want my life to be: Love. I want a life so full of love that it encompasses everything. I want a life where love is so present that it is tangible. 

And that kind of love can only come from God. He is the source, and I am the vessel. So I must the willing for Him to work through me in order to have that kind of love, to be that kind of love. 

My mother knew this and prayed every day to be what was needed, to be the vessel that God needed her to be. And Dad followed suit. And their love goes on, even now. Over the weekend I was missing them so deeply. I asked them to please send me a sign, something only for me, that I would know. And they delivered, with love.

My mother gave me her sign in one of her usual ways, the sky. On the way back from seeing friends, I looked up and saw a cloud plainly in the shape of an “M.” That was Mom’s signature on many of her notes. So I knew that was from her. And I smiled. Dad’s sign, of course required a little more work.

His sign came as a dream about a boat in a bad storm. My family was trying to save everyone and the boat. My father called me on my cell and told me that the damage was bad, but could be fixed. Knowing the storm was dangerous, I asked where he was so I could help him off the boat. “I’m on the cheek,” Dad replied. I thought for sure he misspoke. “You mean the deck?” “No,” he corrected, “the cheek.”

The dream was very vivid, and I awoke wondering what the cheek of a boat was. Google to the rescue. Usually associated with gaff masts, the cheeks are knee shaped pieces of wood either side of the mast at the hounds which carry the trestle tree and the eyes in the end of the shrouds. They are also used around the keel. In short, they are the support and without them the boat would go off course. I solved Dad’s riddle and figured out his message is that he and Mom would still be my support when needed. What wonderful messages of love. 

And so it goes. If we write our life, then love is the story I want it to be.  I move forward with the intent of love. Love will be my motivation. There will be meditations of love and healing, which must be done to make things within me whole again. There will be prayers for inner peace. 

 I will build this life, step by step, one heartbeat at a time, with love. This beautiful house needs the sounds of friends, family, laughter and love in it. And so I will fill it with these.

I have often said that that which brings you love, will bring you peace. That what brings you Peace will bring you happiness. 

Most think that a life of love is easy, but it’s not. It takes a lot of work to have love, peace and happiness. And by that I mean that you have to set your intentions every day to be your best, to pray and love God, to be willing to be a vessel of His love, even when it’s not easy. You must set the intention every day, and then at some point it becomes a habit, and a habit becomes a way of life. 

You must also work to protect your love and intention in your life. So many times we can get sidetracked by others and their drama or their path when it is not meant for us. It doesn’t make those people bad, we just have to be picky with whom we choose to have at our table. Those who would be destructive or detrimental to our journey must not be allowed to stay. I used to wonder why my mother would not let some people close to us, and now I see that in her wisdom, she recognized those who would disrupt our life. This ability is needed to provide continuity in our lives if we are to keep love and peace at the helm.

And so begins this journey. I am still grieving, still figuring things out, still finding solid ground in which to grow roots. But I think that love is a good foundation. And all love originates from God. And so I pray.  

The Routine Order

We all have things that seem to be the bane of our existence. They gym, the dreadmill, I mean treadmill.  The dentist…and for me, routine.  I am a writer, creative and do not like routine.  Until I take a closer look at my life.  Growing up, my mother believed very much in routine, that this is what children needed in order to be healthy.  In addition to three square meals, lots of love and some discipline, we also had a lot of routine.  We had dinner with a certain time frame and went to bed by a certain hour.  We had so long to do homework, chores and piano practice.  She said that routine could bring order into an otherwise chaotic world for a child.  And indeed we did thrive.

But in my adult life, I just seem to do well without schedules.  I do what needs to be done when it needs doing, and do my best to manage time.  And I am constantly running 15-20 minutes late. But lately I am seeing more value in this thing called routine of which she spoke. And I think it might just save my sanity.

Since Dad moved in life has been on the hectic side, running from doctor appointment to doctor appointment, learning to be a caretaker of an 80 year-old and everything that comes with it.  It can be so overwhelming at times.  So what do you do when life gets that overwhelming and big that you can’t seems to see over the top of it?  Routine.

There is comfort in routine, in knowing what comes next and when. It allows for you to free up your time and space to be creative and concentrate on what is really important. It allows you to follow a natural order.  And when you think of the science of it, it makes perfect sense.  Even the human body has schedules.  The heart beats on schedule, we do not have to think about it.  We breathe on an automatic schedule. Our blood and lungs work on schedule and to their tasks and we do not have to think about it.  We go on with our lives.

And that is what I hope to accomplish with this new order, so to speak.  Dad will have a pretty set schedule – approximately when to get up, I will fix his breakfast, then when physical and occupational therapy happen, when his companion care comes over to help with tasks or run errands, when to go to the senior center to meet friends and be social. When he doesn’t have to constantly figure out what comes next, what he is going to do and why, constantly coming up for a reason for existence without my mother, then maybe he can relax and just enjoy.

And maybe I can relax a bit too.  Certain things will be on autopilot, so to speak. I can focus on my work, my relationship, friendships and such. Gears can be shifted to I can just be a good daughter, good friend and co-worker.  This routine may be just what the doctor ordered to get life back to manageable.

And maybe the secret to order is being flexible enough.  Flexible enough to work within the bounds of routine but still allow a loose schedule. With exercise we much stretch ourselves, our muscles, to give a little. Life can be messy. And if we are puritanical in either direction of too much schedule and routine or nothing at all, then things can spiral. We feel overwhelmed and out of order.

So I am looking forward to this new schedule that sets the pace for the new year.  I am looking forward to being able to concentrate on what is truly important while the everyday things take care of themselves.  It takes a lot of hard work to put a routine in place, but we are almost there.  And in that order, we can make a life of spectacular.

The Glamorous Life

There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed. – Ernest Hemingway

One of the things I have heard over and over in writing is write what you know; write from the heart.  And I do believe in this when it comes to not only my writing, but others as well.  I write for myself, because these things must come out.  I write because it is in my soul.

Recently my writing has not been glamorous. It has been about pain and grief and confusion and finding your way. Because right now, in this moment, that is what I know.  And that is the thing about life, many times it isn’t glamorous. Many times we are just trying to get through it the best we can.  And those bad times do not last.  Whatever it is, it will not be like this 10 year from now, or 5 years, or 1 year or even 6 months from now.

This space, this pen on paper or words on the screen, is a safe and cathartic place. So it pours out of me in all of it’s raw, unglamorous and unpolished glory.

Good writing is supposed to evoke sensation in the reader – not the fact that it is raining, but the feeling of being rained upon. – E. L. Doctorow

When you write from the heart, others will connect with it.  Because you cannot hide the emotion or passion. Or comes out not only in the words, but in the flow and rhythm of the writing.  It cannot be faked or taught.  It just is. And to me, as a writer, that part of the process is sacred.

The best compliment anyone could give me is that my writing made them feel something, made them think. Because the glamorous life is wonderful, but cannot be sustained. We all love to read about exotic travels and adventures. I hope to have some soon. But sometimes real life gets in the way.  Real emotion.

I never understood how the holidays could possibly be a hard time for anyone. It is such a festive happy time.  A time of celebration, giving, and family.  But now after suffering loss, I do understand.  While I still love the holidays, there is an acute awareness now of all those who not with me.  Next year will not be as hard.

No one promised us an easy life, and there will always be tough times here and there.  The secret is reaching deep down into yourself.  It’s about tapping the joy and strength that is  within, where the soul meets the heart.

It is about finding what inspires you, even when it is dark inside.

And it is about being still and listening to the whisper of God’s voice.  At least it is for me.

So it’s not glamorous right now.  But it is real and it is what I know and it is from the heart.  And the heart, no matter how ragged, never looses it’s shine.

Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing. – Benjamin Franklin

Season of Thoughts

To Wear it well

We must let go of the life that we planned so as to accept the life that is waiting for us. – Joseph Campbell

This is the time of year of festivities. Parties, gifts and resolutions.  And it is usually about this time of year that in addition to enjoying all that this happy season will bring, I start thinking about what I want to accomplish next year.

Most of the time, the things on my list are the usual:  Travel more, spend less, smile more, loose that 10 lbs that has been on my hips for the last 5 years. For this next year though it is quite different.  My goal for next year is quite simple: To wear it well.

I want simple things to not take so much energy.  Things like putting on my pants, going through daily routines…breathing.  To put it quite simply – grief is bitch.  Grief is like that bad roommate you can’t get rid of.

But the fact is that Grief will be with me for quite a while. So I must learn to wear it well.

What exactly does that mean?  It means that You hold your head high, smile anyway and get on with it.  It doesn’t mean you still don’t feel it in every part of every bone, you just don’t let it wear you, you wear it. Right now, I feel like Grief is cutting off circulation, because it is a very ill-fitting outfit that is tight in all the wrong places and loose in all the wrong spots.

From all the research I have done, grief never really leaves you. So I have to learn to wear it well. And defiantly better than I have.

Ultimately, I would like to make this grief a place from where love can grow and prosper.  I would like to make it a beautiful garden of compassion and goodness. I want to do more than wear it well; if it has to be with me for my life, then I want it to make me a better person. I just don’t know how to get there yet.

Grief can be the garden of compassion. If you keep your heart open through everything, your pain can become your greatest ally in your life’s search for love and wisdom. – Rumi

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The Smell of It

As a parent, it’s my responsibility to equip my child to do this – to grieve when grief is necessary and to realize that life is still profoundly beautiful and worth living despite the fact that we inevitably lose one another and that life ends, and we don’t know what happens after death. –  Sam Harris

It is funny the things that you miss.  And as cliché as it sounds, the laundry smelled so good when Mom did it. I never thought I would miss that smell so much. I cherish anything I find of her original laundry.   And I finally found out her secret.  I found her stash of fabric softener and smell good stuff.  The one problem?

I cannot find it in any stores here in the Atlanta area.  Seriously…in a city of millions…I can’t locate any of it.  Dad and I are both searching for it.  Where did she get this stuff?  Did she ship it in from another country?  Or planet?  Because this stuff smells like Love.

It is somewhere, and somehow I will find it and get as many bottles of it as possible.  Love in a bottle cannot be overrated, neither can the magical smell of laundry.

Always bear in mind that your own resolution to succeed is more important than any other. – Abraham Lincoln

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Hard Candy Christmas

Grief is in two parts. The first is loss. The second is the remaking of life. – Anne Roiphe

Tis the season for all the holiday festivities. It is also a very bad time for those who are grieving the loss of a loved one.  And while the grief cannot be fixed or erased, we can, if we choose, still find the beauty in every day.  We can, if we choose, appreciate the happiness and joy around us, and maybe even have some of it seep in.

And so it goes this holiday season.  The Christmas tree is going up this weekend.  A big real tree.  I’ve never had a real Christmas tree but have been told that they smell wonderful.  And there will be Christmas music and carols.  And lots of Christmas lights.  We are going to see a large light display, complete with hot chocolate and roasting marshmallows by a fire afterward. The house will have a lot of Christmas decorations, some old that have been passed down to me, and some new.

This Christmas will be hard, and that cannot be changed.  It cannot be fixed.  But. But, we do not have to drown in it either.  We can still smile through tears, celebrate through grief and see joy in the world. A broken heart still beats. The world still turns and life goes on.

So, bring on the eggnog, Christmas carols and fires.  Let’s light the house up with Christmas displays.  Let the stockings be hung, the dancing Santa’s dance and the angels sing.  No doubt my mother is one of those angels now.  May we hear her voice this Christmas, and all others to come.

I think faith is incredibly important because you will become overwhelmed with what’s happening and you will have waves of grief, but when you turn to your faith, I believe God will give you waves of grace to get through it. – Joel Osteen

 

What’s Cooking

We all have those challenges in life where you wonder how on earth can it all get done?  One of the biggest struggles in modern life is what’s for dinner?  How do you cook a balanced meal most nights, have it tasty, fresh and not take forever to prep and cook?  After working all day?  We are currently trying to figure this out.  So is a large part of the rest of the country as well.  All the planning it takes, prepping, and actual time cooking.  How to make sure everything is done and hot at the same time when each thing cooking takes a different amount of time to prep and cook?  How to cook and plan a meal for this this night, leftovers that night, the other dish the next night…so that nothing is repetitive and boring – oh and still nutritious and yummy?

Having an aging parent living with you, who is going through chemo and who has special dietary needs adds to the challenge. Growing up my Mom cooked for us almost every night. And when we had 6 foster kids, she cooked almost every night still.  We always had three balanced meals a day.  I have no idea how she did it.  Actually I do –  First, she loved taking care of others, so it gave her a tremendous amount of joy.  Second she didn’t work.  That is not knocking those who stay home – quite the opposite.  One of the most important things you can do for your family is cook, clean and take care of them.  And it is a lot of hard work.  Thus the challenge.  How to take care of the family as well as you could if you didn’t work, when you do work?

My boyfriend and I, who both work, are trying to figure out how to take care of things in and around the house as well as those who don’t work.  And the truth is – we can’t.  Those who stay home and take care of everything are nothing short of miracle workers.  There are two of us and we, combined, cannot do what my mother did, and there was only one of her.  (But then my mother was magic)

Maybe the trick is in addition to doing it together, you have to decide on a level of un-doneness. Yes, I did just make up that word. What that means is that since we do both work, and we are not miracle workers, we cannot possibly to everything.  So, if we cook great meals 4 nights a week, then eat left overs, sandwiches, soups or pizza the other nights, maybe that is enough.  Add some healthy snacks in there and maybe that is the extent of what we can get done.  Because there is still laundry, still dishes, still vacuuming, still trying to exercise, still quality family times and still trying to have a little smidgen of a social life.

Maybe finding an acceptable level of un-doneness is the secret to keeping the love as well.  There might be dust on the mantle, but if love burns bright in the fireplace, then a warm home cannot be far behind. And that’s what’s cooking at the Burch Manor.

14,000 Miles

Regular car maintenance, we all do it.  Unless we want to be stranded on the side of the road because the engine exploded, we get the oil changes, tires rotated, fluids topped off.  Just like the DMV, it is a necessary evil that must be endured.  I am lucky that the place I take my car is pretty honest and they know I know a bit about cars (thanks Dad).  But even I was surprised when the technician asked “14,000 miles since your last oil change in June?!?  Where have you been driving?”

You can travel a lifetime in fourteen thousand miles. In those miles I have traveled several.  What started out as simply assisting Mom during recovery from a minor procedure ended up as so much more.  And that seems several lifetimes ago already.

In 14,000 miles I have traveled to heartaches door and back.  I have carried more love and compassion than all the luggage in the world could hold.  Each mile, each inch, each centimeter, has paralleled each beat of my heart.

I have traveled to confusion, and denial and desperation and fear and loss.  I have visited darkness and knelt humbly at faith’s doorstep.  I have sat, hunch over, crying, sobbing, begging, pleading, admitting that I don’t know how to do this, how to watch my mother pass, how to be strong enough to be the leader, how to be what is needed for this task. I have prayed for wisdom, and grace, and compassion and understanding, and patience; sometimes failing, sometimes not.

In those miles I have bargained, promised, negotiated, fought, and bled my soul.  I researched the best course, sacrificed sleep because it was not important, and seen acceptance in the nurses expression when they looked into my eyes and knew the term “visiting hours” did not apply to me. I have prayed that as much as I love her, please, please let her not suffer.  I have broken my own heart into minuscule shards, trembling, as I prayed for it to be peaceful.

I have seen compassion and true heartbreak watching my father.  And I have witnessed the truest love, watching them the last time they interacted.

In 14,000 miles, I have seen the most beautiful and striking rainbows, as rays of hope break through the clouds. I have seen eyes look into mine with love and compassion, shoulders that truly are strong enough for me to cry on, arms that are strong enough to protect me, and gentle enough to be shelter. In those miles, I have seen how blessed I am to have a wonderful man and partner who is willing to be there, even when I am so terrified that I cannot stand to be in my own company. And then seen him stay and stroke my hair so I sleep in peace.  I have carried whispers and secrets and writings, and journals, and anger, and fear, and love and joy and everything that is life in those miles.

There have been miles of boxes packed. moved and unpacked.  There have been countless sleepless nights, up planning and figuring, writing and praying.  There have been men payed, volunteers asked, friends talked to and letters written.  Interviews and jobs declined and accepted, tasked completed and left undone. There have been pictures taken and voice mails saved, phones traded and flowers smelled.  There have been countless meals cooked and eaten, many bottles of wine and water and coffee.  There have been long goodbyes and short visits, lengthy conversations and easy decisions and heavy burdens. There have been cards and songs, and work and play. And love, most of all.

Fourteen thousand miles is a short distance for where I have traveled and returned. And when you think about all of that in 14,000 miles, it is humbling to think of how many miles are traveled in our time on Earth, and by how many travelers.

And in the miles ahead, I see that the road is rich with hope and dreams, and love, and kindness and all the good that can be held around the next bend. And it makes me wonder what the next miles have in store.  Just like looking at the blank pages of a new journal, I am inquisitive about the future. Even when the road is long and hard, we must never lose our hope, our wanderlust, our curiosity, our sense of wander or our optimism. We must always strive to learn and grow and be better.

Yes, I saw all of this flash before me, in an instant when the technician asked that simple question.  I just said “I had a family illness that required a lot of driving.” He smiled kindly and said he was sorry to hear. Then he rang me up and went on his way down his road, continuing his journey.  And so it goes.

Symphonies for Us

We all need to experience new things, or even old things that we have not experienced in many years that gave us joy. As adults, we need to have fun, enjoy life even in tough times, especially in tough times.  Friday my father and I went on a Father-daughter date to the symphony.  He loves classical music, and one of his favorites was playing.  I had never been to the symphony and looked very much forward to the first experience.

I love the fact that I will be able to say that the first time going to the symphony was with my Dad.  He was very excited, as was I.  We left in plenty of time for traffic (which for Atlanta is at least an hour with some extra padding).  Upon arrival we noticed quite a crowd.  Each part of the art center had functions, and Atlanta loves the arts.  We were seated in the main orchestra section close enough to see everything.  We even met a very nice lady who gave us tips on the best places to sit depending on what we wanted to see the most.

And then the music started.  Wow.  As many live music shows as I have been to, I have to say that there is nothing like the symphony.  To not only hear the music, but to see and notice the nuances as the instruments are played is amazing.  You are carried away by the violins, then the cellos…then you notice that the flutes are being played, when you had not noticed their subtle under tones before…and a whole new world is opened in that piece of music.

We were both lost in the music while the orchestra played, both fascinated by the way the conductor led the members, and both carried away to another place and time.  Wonderful memories.  And no doubt there will be more symphonies for us, as looked online to see what our next musical adventure.

 

Father Daughter Date

Tonight will be a great night. It is something my father and I have been looking forward to for quite a while.  Dad loves classical music, so when I saw this event, I knew we had to go.  Dvořák’s popular “From the New World” Symphony is one of his absolute favorites, and it has been a long time since he has been to the symphony.

Tonight is Father Daughter Date night.  We will go to Casual Friday’s at the Atlanta Symphony, enjoy some great music, then have a nice bite somewhere tasty.  Truly good quality time together, he and I.  A treat to celebrate a bit of life, something good at the end of the tunnel and the start of maybe a new tradition.

The holidays are approaching, and the symphony has many concerts for the season.  But tonight is the first. Something I will no doubt cherish for a long time.

With Love

I have long had the theory that if you do something with love, it will be felt throughout.  This past weekend is a great example.  My father wanted several of his belongings and pieces of furniture moved up.  A new home doesn’t really feel like it’s yours until you have your most favorite things around you.

And so my man and I went down to Mom and Dad’s, loaded up a 16’ truck full of his favorite things and drove them up to the new house.  Dad is taking full advantage of the fact that there is space for his things now.  So, with the help of some wonderful friends, we unloaded the truck and arrange Dad’s new room.

When my father returns, he will find his room full with his bed, his desk, his favorite chair and other items he picked to have with him.  My man and I arrange everything last night, moving heavy solid wood furniture, pulling out the tape measure with blinding speed, trying not to fall over the cats and trying not to trip over each other. The result is warmth that you can feel as soon as you walk in the room.  A room filled with, arranged with and designed with thought and love.  It is my favorite room in the house so far.

It seems that when you are doing for another, being of service to them, whatever love is felt is returned ten-fold.  Doing things for Dad helps me feel better.  It makes me feel as if Mom is smiling as she watches over us. It melts away all my heartache, channels it into something positive, and makes me smile. Serving others helps me heal. I can no longer do for Mom, but I can do for those she loved most and make sure they are good. And the is no doubt she loved Dad the best and the most.

Now, to arrange the rest of the house in the coming weeks.  To make it ours, warm and comfortable.  A sanctuary in a crazy world, a place of rest and peace.  And love.

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Special note:  I am the luckiest woman in the world to have such a wonderful man as my partner.  He has been there for me, putting up with me in my emotional, grieving state.  He has been patient, letting me cry when needed.  He has been amazing to my father, treating him with nothing but kindness and respect.  He has lifted and moved heavy furniture, called on his friends to help, done dishes and laundry, eaten questionable cooking, and watched TV shows just because I liked them. I have been treated with more kindness, grace, gentleness and love that I deserve or could possibly hope.

There is a saying that when a woman is loved the right way, she becomes 100 times more than she ever could have been.  He has shown me this is true.  And I am blessed.

The Wonder They Hold

Sometimes we find ourselves in interesting places while trying to get back into the rhythm of life. This is where I find myself.  Three months after Mom’s passing, which still seems so surreal, we are all starting to get into the rhythm of forward movement.

In many ways is it the land of Almost (Which I wrote about here). I say almost, because I am not there yet.  But it feels like the brim of many things.  I am almost back into life, almost feeling like myself, almost back  into the swing of things.  We are almost unpacked, almost settled, and I almost know what I am doing. At work I am almost done with a few projects, my clothes almost match, and I almost feel like I look like I have it almost together.

It is peculiar, this place.  No longer there, but not quite at the other. It is better, as I come out of the darkness. I almost have a routine, and it feels good.  Get up, make coffee for Dad, discuss what is going on for the day.  At lunch it is either running a quick errand, eating at my desk or running home for lunch. After work is maybe going to the store for ingredients, then cooking, a little clean up and spending time with talking with my boyfriend about the day.  Still have to finish unpacking and figure out things like when to work out or watch TV.

A return to the routine after months of holding on, letting go and breathing out. The bittersweet relief of normal.  I look pictures of my mother, noticing her features as I inspect my own in the mirror.  There are enough similarities that I know I can do this. And I sleep warmly under a blanket which she picked.  She and God equipped me with all that is needed, and she loved me enough for a lifetime. Soon it will no longer be Almost…soon it will be a rhythm of life and love and hope and all the wonder that they hold.

And Then it Was Two

Someone asked how Dad and I were doing today. This day, the 2^nd month anniversary of Mom’s death. Two Months.  One can live a lifetime in two months.

Most of that day is a blur to me.  I remember parts and pieces.  I remember painting Mom’s fingernails and gently brushing her hair the night before, and that morning.  I remember gently talking to her about how much I loved her and about my favorite childhood memories.  Like the Alfonso’s break dancing kit gift debacle.  And when she read Little House on the Prairie book series to me.  And when she would brush and fix my hair in the morning when I was a child.  When she taught me all those childhood songs that I still remember, how she decorated my bedroom when I was a teenager and made it seafoam green…and how I really did not appreciate that as much as I should have.  How she sat with me through each and every heartache and break up.  And teaching me how to cook and make her famous milk sausage gravy…and so many memories.

I remember how I held her hand and watched her breathing get more and more shallow.  Even when you know it’s coming, you are never prepared to see someone take their last breath.  And I remember the lights flickering three times after I said “I love you…”

And then there was talking to everyone, making arrangements. Making decisions and taking care of everything. I know it happened, and I was the one to do those things, but I really don’t remember.

Grief is not as I expected.  I thought it would be a huge brick in the pit of my stomach.  But it’s not.  It is more like an acute awareness that she is not here.  It is the extreme knowledge of the Last time I felt her arms around me. It is the silence of her absence. And it is deafening.

But my answer to my dear friend who asked was simply – We are getting better at moving forward.

Because we are. Every day we get better at honoring her by creating something beautiful.  We live for her to look down and smile.  We pray for God to hold  us – and her – in his big hands. We hold our breath for the signs and whispers.  We look up and feel the sun, see the clouds, celebrate the rainbows, feel the rain and notice the magnificence of the world. A life beautiful through honoring her, her memory, how she wanted us and raised us to be. A life beautiful by creating a safe, peaceful space that is a sacred sanctuary, protected and kept close.

We move forward by honoring her memory and being true to ourselves and those we love.  We continue forward with the move to the new house, and creating something special.  We weave together the fabric of this life with every heartbeat.

Life in Imperfections

I am learning that within our own imperfections we find the greatest truths, unconditional love, appreciation and a mirror of who we really hope to be on the inside on the good and Bad days. – Jennifer Jo Clark Singleton

We all have those times in life were we just have to do it. There is a reason why that slogan is such a hit.  It is especially appropriate after a tragedy or major setback in life.  When we feel hopeless, defeated, hurt, scared, sad, depressed, discourage, unsure…we just have to get up and do it.

I remember a lesson I learned from my mother.  She had a very bad back and suffered terrible chronic pain.  She was extremely strong willed though and worked through it.  The pain would put most people in bed…and I remember asking her why she didn’t just take a break or lie down?  With a smile and that common sense way of thinking for which she was famous, she told me that her back was going to hurt whether she got up or not, so she might as get up, and get busy. Wow. Now that she is no longer with us, I want to carry her on lessons of strength and endurance in the face of hard time.

The fact is that we will probably still feel scared, discouraged, sad, or whatever, but we just have to do it anyway.  At some point you have to decide to reach deep down, where the soul meets the mind, down where each heartbeat mingles with our breath, and pull ourselves up.  It’s going to hurt anyway, so we might as well just do it.

And so it goes.  There is much to do at this moment.  So much change, heartache, work, love, fear, truth, honor, sadness, and life.  Adjusting to having an aging parent in the house, making sure he has everything he needs and wants, packing and organizing two moves, working a full time job, trying to cook, clean and do everyday things, keeping up with friends and family… I have no idea how I am going to do it, but I just have to, because failure is not an option.

But I know I can do it, because my mother could do anything, and I am my mother’s daughter.  The pity party is over – and that is another thing she taught me.  Have a pity party, but just make sure it doesn’t last too long.  Because life and it’s demands do not stop just because you are having a bad day, or week, or month or even year.  So you better figure it out.

I can hear her voice, gently whispering to me, as I get up in the morning.  She knows I can do it.  I will not be perfect at this.  I will stumble, fall and even fail sometimes, no matter how hard I try.  And in my imperfections, I have found this truth.  In her imperfections I have found that unconditional love and faith.  I have found that mirror of who I am now and who I want to be on the good and bad days. And I am blessed to have a wonderful people around me who will stand by firm.  They are my roots.

We can also choose in what spirit in which we move forward.  We can choose to rise above the drama and pain, or let it drag us down.  We can choose to do things with a loving and cheerful heart, or we can be bitter and angry. I choose the former in both sets.  Dolly Parton Sings in her hit Hard Candy Christmas “I’m barely getting through tomorrow/But still I won’t let/Sorrow get me way down/Me, I’ll be just fine and dandy.” And I will be just fine.

I think that starts with acceptance. It is going to be hard. It is going to test my limits and strength.  But’s it’s going to hurt anyway so I might as well get up and get busy.  Things are going to be unbalanced right now, so I will just grab what time for myself that I can, and just get through the rest. Maybe the key is finding the unbalance you can live with temporarily. And the bad times are always temporary; it won’t be like this six months from now, a year from now, ten years from now.

You can pack and cry at the same time; you can move mountains while still wounded. You just have to do it. And so I will. How…I am not sure.  I guess we will figure that out along the way. And in my imperfections I will find life.

Pour yourself a drink, put on some lipstick, and pull yourself together. – Elizabeth Taylor

Grace Under Pressure

How did my Mother do it, I wonder?  How did she manage the family and all the activities? When she was here, she was the one who took care of everything and everyone when they needed something.  Now that torch has been passed to me. And I think I am failing miserably at it.

For example, my sister closest in age has refused to help with moving our parents belonging out of the family compound into the new house where Dad will live.  When I asked if she would help her answer was “Dad can handle moving by himself, he is not a child.”  I don’t know of a single adult who can handle a move completely alone, including her.  In addition to that, she has many things of her own still in the house that she is expecting Dad, or someone other than her, to pack, load, move and store for her.  Seems to me like that takes a lot of nerve to expect. And it makes my blood boil as I see the hurt in Dad’s eyes, and his panicked and defensive tone as he says he doesn’t need her, any one’s help.

I am not a violent person, but the urge to throw something large and heavy at her was hard to resist.  But I did, barely. How exactly did my mother do it?

When you are placed in a leadership position, there is a tremendous amount of responsibility that goes along with it. That responsibility also gives you certain rights or privileges.  For example, I was there when my mother passed, that sister was not. The cross that my mother was wearing when she passed, hangs around my neck now. That cross my dear mother gave me, I took and placed around her neck so she would have a cross to wear for her journey. And when my mother’s journey was complete, the cross once again hung around my neck from hers. A beautiful gift given, an intimate moment shared between mother and daughter.   That detail gives me the privilege to tell my sister she should have been there herself if she wanted anything different. The responsibility is to try to have Grace..to have justice tempered by mercy. I am pretty bad at that part. 

And I try so hard to remember my mother’s teachings of Grace and patience.  But that is oh so hard when I see my father being hurt. I want to be fiercely protective of him and tell her, in no uncertain terms, what I think if her selfishness, her refusal to work with us, her refusal to communicate or plan anything from his move, to his birthday to plans for the holidays.

We have all heard of a divorced parent whose ex-spouse makes joint custody of the children a nightmare.  Just because it is an adult parent, and not a child, does not make it OK to be an uncooperative ass.  And my mother dealt with this for almost 30 years, this sister causing problems. It should have been expected then, but I thought it might be different because of the circumstances.

And I wonder how she did it, my beautiful mother, because I am drowning. How did she keep her cool when selfishness came to the door and inside the house? Because I want to come out swinging.

When someone so selfish comes into your life, it completely alters the energy and feel of the room.  You can feel the air being sucked out of the entire space, as they are a black hole that devours anything positive and good.  It leaves you feeling exhausted as you try to feed their insatiable hunger.  But nothing you do for them will be enough; they will always want more, expect more and refuse more and more to do anything.  They are entitled, after all.

But you cannot defecate on those who love you and expect them to stick around.

And I realize maybe the solution is in walking away. From the drama, from the pain, from trying to be nice to someone who has no use for anything Burch but yet demands everything to be given. And Maybe the Grace and Patience my mother had comes not from believing in my sister, but from having faith that God will provide regardless.  God works miracles every single day.  Somehow this move, this time, this holiday season will work out without my sister, without her drama and her selfishness.  You cannot force someone to care, but you can move forward without them in your life.

And in letting go and leaving her behind, maybe therein lies the Grace. And also therein lies the Peace

Looking Up

There are times in everyone’s life where all we can do is look up.  In looking up there is faith and hope.  Sometimes, we have to put our heads down and work through whatever it is, go get through or to reach a goal.  And then we find ourselves looking up at the sun, or feeling the cleansing rain on our face.  Looking up means noticing all that is around, not only above. It is saying a prayer, giving thanks and taking a breath.

There is a conversation you never dreams of having with your loved one.  The “It’s ok if you are tired, you can let go” talk when a family member is too ill.  I had that conversation with my mother while she was under sedation and she could not really respond.  The nurse had given her the shot before I had a chance to have a real conversation, so this was the best I could do.  I know she could hear me, so I stroked her hair and gently told her that I know she had been in pain and was so very tired, so if she didn’t feel l like fighting, that it was Ok to let go.  She had our permission.

I sat at her bedside, looking down watching her while rested and reassured her that while I wanted her to be around forever, it was OK if she was too tired and I understood. And loved her more than words could ever say.  I told her about the prognosis – that her body was just too weak to fight the infection and recover.  The truth that if she did recover, it would take months of rehabilitation to get back to normal.  That Everyone would be OK, even though we would miss her more terribly and deeply that we could ever imagine.

I think it is one of the hardest conversations to have with a parent or any loved one.  Gut-wrenching and physically difficult, it is what you do when you love someone and want what is best for them. But it goes against every selfish desire you have, because you naturally want your loved ones with you for as long as possible. But not at the cost of their comfort and quality of life.  So you break your own heart and let go, letting them let go too.

After she passed, I said my final goodbye, taking her hand and telling her one more time that I loved her so very much. When I stood up to leave, the lights flickered softly three times. A gentle whisper of “I love you.”  And I looked up and knew it was her.

As we move forward without her here, there has been much to do.  Getting the old house ready for sale, cleaning, arranging, packing.  We go out to take breaks and sit on the back deck facing the water.  Feeling the breeze, watching the flowers dance. And I look up and see fireflies dancing and playing right in front of me.  And I know it is another gentle whisper.

And there is unpacking the van in our current home, taking Dad’s things out and putting them inside for him, making sure he has all he needs to keep him warm and feeling loved and not so alone.  Unloading 40 houseplants, finding a place for them, in the sun, or partial sun, or full shade so that they flourish as much as they can.  And I look up…and see a double rainbow after I asked for a sign. Another gentle whisper, this time captured on my phone.

After dad and I were down dealing with the coin collection, there was a penny at my door, the year of my birth. And I looked up, thankful for the whisper. Truth be told, there have been too many signs, signals and whispers to mention.  Every day, another whisper, just as I have asked moving forward. A wonderful reminder that she is around, looking over us.  I hope she is proud of me, when I look up at the sky, at her in the beautiful cloud formations.  I hope she likes the way I try to carry her legacy of love, warmth and laughter.  I hope she is patient with me learning how do balance everything she did so effortlessly and does not frown too harshly when my patience and Grace and running short. I hope we she is pleased as she looks down and we look up.

The fact is that moving on is not possible, because it insinuates that you close the door on that part of your life.  And that is simply not possible when missing a parent. You miss them always. But you can move forward, learning how to wade through and make new paths while still honoring and keeping the old ones.  And even the old paths will not ever be the same; but different isn’t always bad and change doesn’t have to be negative. You can build a beautiful life on the grounds and foundation of your parents.

And you never have to stop looking up.

Redefintion

It would be easy to call this redefined, but to me a stronger word is needed. To redefinition is to define something from scratch.  When you really have no clue, but have to figure it out anyway.  This is where I am.

There are a few things to redefinition in my life.  First, life is great, all things considered.  A great career, a great company, a wonderful relationship, amazing, supportive, loving friends.  I am very lucky and blessed.  But even with all of that, there is a lot of figuring out.

Happiness:  Happiness after the loss of a loved one feels different.  I am a happy person by default, having an upbeat disposition.  But I am acutely aware of who is missing.  Wanting to call and not being able.  But knowing she is here with me, watching over me, saying hello with little signs.  There is happiness in these things.

Family:  Now the family unit must be redefinitioned (yes that is a word, at least in my dictionary).  Mom is gone now.  And my closest sister in age and geography has stepped out of the picture, no longer wanting to be a part of mine or Dad’s life.  So I must figure out how to be a family now.  Thank goodness there are 3 other siblings on which to lean and who are being very supportive. My answer? LOVE.  What will that look like for Dad’s 80^th birthday?  Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years?  I have no idea.  But surely there is enough love out there to figure it out.

Adulting:  Crap. This means I have to be an adult.  I still have trouble putting my pants on without falling on my face.  I have no idea what I am doing, or how to do it. Unless it involves falling, tripping and breaking my toes.  I would like to think that I will get through this with Grace and Humor.  More than likely it will be a lot of long pauses, awkward moments and blank stares. The role of Humor will be played by those who are watching.  I know, you aren’t laughing at me, you are laughing near me…

Love:  Holy crap, do I have enough love to fill the void of Mom, sister, her three sons? I have no idea, but certainly with faith and prayer I will find out.  It’s going to be rough, but it can be done.  People do it every day, so we can too.  And no doubt there will be plenty of laughter along the way, as there always is.  That is the thing about life – we may never know or understand the roads on which we end up traveling, but we can at least make the best of it.

Grief: I have no idea what grief looks like, but I have a feeling that I am deeply in the middle of a staring contest with it.  I am going to win too.  After going through all of the phases, which I am not even sure of what they are called.  But a rose by any other name…so does it really matter?  I imagine grief and I will become quite good friends before the end. So I hope it likes coffee and wine.  And soft pillows.

Every day: Slowly I am getting my groove back.  Getting back to work, being productive…not bursting out in tears every hour.  That is pretty huge.  My co-workers were beginning to think my puffy eyes and red nose were a permanent thing.  Life is getting back to being a series of serious and comedic moments.  Living with an 80-year-old is an adventure.  He likes it really warm. As in 90 degrees feels good to him.  Like when we ordered pizza. And he wanted to eat it outside. When it was 93 degrees.  My boyfriend and I are melting, trying to eat this hot pizza, sweat pouring out of use like were are made of holes.  Meanwhile, Dad is oblivious, even putting hot sauce on his slice commenting on what a nice evening it was.  But I wouldn’t have it any other way.

The Holidays:  See above family.  Just an expansion.  Mom held everything together.  Now we have to figure it out on our own.  For sure there will be a big Christmas tree.  Her ornaments.  Wrapping. And wrapping. And wrapping.  Hot chocolate. Cats. A big fireplace.  And not sure what else.  We will figure it out when we get there. Redefinition.

Decoration:  I already had a stuffed house before my boyfriend moved in.  Now more things with Dad.  I am discovering the lost art of cleaning out, throwing away things I haven’t used or worn in years to make room for…more stuff.  It is liberating and slightly scary.  When was the last time you looked in those boxes that have been packed for the last 20 years??  Yep, did that a few weeks ago.  And everywhere you look, there is a painting, picture, piece of furniture.  And whatever you do, do not open that closet door!

Dinner time:  We usually cook every night anyway, but it is pretty cool to have another at the dinner table at night.  And then after dinner conversations.  Beer or wine on the patio.  TV?  At some point I will have to binge watch everything I have missed and am missing.  I may need to book at “Bedcation” to catch up.

Gardening:  In addition to lots of stuff, I have inherited about 40 plants.  Except I am not good with plants, but I am determined to changed that.  Everything from a Delicious Monster, or a Staghorn Fern, to rubber tree plants, to a ficus benjamina, to many cacti, to other green things, this is going to be a very leafy adventure (hopefully). There are plants everywhere in the yard, and this winter, my house will be the greenhouse. Should be interesting with the cats…

Working out:  Help! My fat pants seem to have shrunk in the laundry…Or maybe I just need to get to the gym, eventually.  Between working and everything else, the gym, or even working out at home, seems like a distant fantasy. It’s a shame redefinitioning doesn’t burn any calories, because if it did I would be in my skinny jeans.

No doubt many others have redefinitioned these things too, and more.  The great thing about life is that we do get to make up our own rules, we do get to write how we want it.  And whatever these things are, I want them to be stuffed with Love.  Like a giant stuff olive (can you tell I am hungry?)

The Legacy

One month, this past weekend.  That is how long it has been.  Since I heard her voice, gave her a hug, held her hand. One month since I saw her breathing and take her last breath, surrounded by family.  It seems like a lifetime ago, yet it has only been a month.

She was anorexic, and subsequently died from complications of severe malnutrition (something which I will write about later).  Her little body did not have the strength or energy to fight the pneumonia.  And the heart cannot continue beating when the body has lost the ability to process food.  She was between 65-68lbs when she died.

But through it all I see God’s Grace in taking care of us.  My contract ended suddenly two months ago, just in time for the sibling reunion, and for taking care of Mom when she went in for surgery.  I was truly able to dedicate my time and attention to her. I was able to help her when it was clear recovery was not possible. And how thankful I am for that time, even as difficult as it was.

Learning to function again after the passing of a parent can be a challenge.  But I am my mother’s daughter, and as such I will meet the challenge.  At an early age, my mother taught me that no matter what happens in life, no matter how bad, or traumatic, or hurtful…it is but one thing.  And your life, my life, is so much bigger than that, or any one thing.  So you must continue.

And I have, slowly.  Going back to work, doing little daily tasks like cooking or cleaning.  But you slowly get the hang of it again.  I keep hearing my mother’s voice telling me to get up, get moving.  It’s just a little death. And life is bigger than death.

And how different things look now than they did just six weeks ago, two months ago.  A new job, Dad living with us now and no Mom. More furniture and things than we ever thought would fit into the house, several trips to the family compound, the compound being put up for sale, six cats and seven guns.

But if there is one constant that I have learned, is that life is full of change.  And when we find ourselves in the middle of the winds of change, love is what can get us through.  And my life is full of love. Mom is here, around, I feel it.  And I try to honor her in small things that I do every day.  My friends have all been so supportive, lifting me, even carrying me when needed. My wonderful boyfriend has been an amazing rock, letting me cry, and my father. Yes, love is everywhere.  And that is my mother’s legacy.

The Blessing of a Broken Heart

It is a blessing to have a broken heart. It is a blessing to cry rivers, even oceans of tears.  It is a blessing to feel loss so deep that you wonder if you can even breath.

This may sound ridiculous.  But to me it means that I have truly loved enough to feel that loss.  My mother and I were very close.  And her passing has left a terrible loss in my life.  But I would not trade that loss for anything.

Because it is attached to my wonderful childhood, to being taught silly songs when I was little, being read to, being made to do my homework. It is attached to hot chocolate on a night when I could not sleep, and too many hugs to be able to count.

Heartbreak and heartache never get easier.  Losing those you love never gets easier. But no one said that life would be easy.  That was never promised to us.  And when our heart is breaking, is it not because whoever it was gave us joy and love?  The amount of joy and love conversely reflects in the amount of the pain.

So let it rain. Let the floods wash my soul and heart clean, let the love of those I have lost carry me through. And let the love of those who are in my life now fill in the cracks, so that all my pieces are put back.

So if it hurts because I loved them so much, then that is OK. I want to love. That is part of living a full life. And that is the blessing of a broken heart.

The Peace of the House

I done been through too much hell and high water to come there and let you come up in my adult life where I’m supposed to be at peace and give me all sorts of hell. There’s only two places on earth that you’re gonna have peace: the grave and your house. If you can’t walk up in your house and you ain’t got no peace, then something’s wrong.   – Medea, Tyler Perry’s Medea Goes to jail

When I first saw a clip from that Tyler Perry movie, it was like big light bulb went off. If you can’t walk up in your own house and have peace, then there is something wrong.

I have never understood why people let others make their house a place of unpeace and unhappiness. But you must also have peace within yourself and that is hard to do, even impossible, if you don’t have peace in your home. We have all encountered people who will put up with just about anything to hear someone say they love them.  We’ve all known people who seem to have a never ending stream of unrest in their life and are always miserable because they won’t let go of those who are making them miserable. And their life will continue that way until they take purposeful steps to have peace.

How do you get it? I think it is a process really, or at least it was for me. First, I let go of those who were causing unrest in my life.  Anyone who upset calm waters had to go.  But even more than that, because sometimes I can be dense, I had to realize that there was a reason when someone did not return to my life. Bad things happen when we try to force it – love, friendships, jobs, and careers, whatever.  And there is a reason why sometimes people just fade away. It’s usually because that person no longer serves you – that’s the nice way to say it.

In real life, it means that your mentality no longer matches theirs, or your values no longer align and staying with them can cause you harm. This is a lesson I have learned the hard way. It doesn’t mean they are a bad person either, or maybe they are and you just haven’t seen it yet. I have an ex-boyfriend who is a great guy, aside from the fact that he is completely crazy and very unstable (thus why he is an ex).  We kept in touch for a few years, but then just faded out of each other’s lives. I decided to keep it that way because, while he is not a bad person,  I do not want that unstable element in my life.

When another friend came to visit me recently, she said she could tell that I was at peace because she could feel it in my home. I had not thought about it before then, but she was right. I am at peace. And that permeates through every part of my life, especially my home.

My wonderful happy little home, stuffed with love and furniture, cats and aloe plants. A place where I go to rest and be protected from the world, a sacred space for those I love most. I have long said, that which gives you peace will make you happy. You cannot have one without the other. And indeed it is true.

The In of the Move

We all have those big life events that get us excited, make us think, plan for our future, make plans, put away the past, look forward or just remind us of how great life can be.  This weekend, it is that fact that my boyfriend and I have moved in together.  Huge step in the relationship and life in general.  The idea of sharing my space with another has been, well, scary.  But not so much with this wonderful human being.

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And as with most life events, there is much work to be done.  As a woman who has been on her own for twenty (yes 20) years,  It has been about 11 years since I cleaned out my closets, cabinets and drawers.  Yes, there have been Mini-cleanings” where I didn’t want to pack things for a move, but a serious, if-you-haven’t-used-it-in-X-years cleaning out?  Not so much…

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It is said that going through your old unused things is cathartic, and I have to agree.  You see items that have been buried away, deep in boxes, and the emotions and memories along with them.  And something else happened too. I realized, over the past 4-5 years, just how ragged my life had been. The proof was right there in front of me, in the ragged way clothes had just been thrown on hangers, un-straight (yes that is a word in my dictionary), disheveled and worn.  Things had holes in them that I just shrugged off, prized dresses and such wrinkled and jammed up.

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It has only been in the past year that life has been settled and good enough to breath again. Before that it was rushing from one crisis to the next as I took care of family, pets and myself.  And as my boyfriend separated the sets of good sheets and towels from the worn, torn, and ragged sets, I was reminded of just how torn and ragged I had become after those years as well.

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Taking care of all others and not having anything left for myself. When that happens you simply settle for what is the closest, easiest thing.  You work hard for others, and afterward the energy left is barely enough to get the basics for yourself.  You are running on empty – fumes and prayers. And that is what I did.  Wrapped up in tattered hopes and dreams, having left pieces of me; of my heart, mind, body and soul, along the path I had traveled.

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It is amazing to me, how some things only become apparent when they are literally staring you in the face. Making sure I was surrounded by pretty seemed irrelevant when taking care of so many. Taking care of myself, taking time for small little things that made me smile was so far away.  It was more along the lines of put my head down, nose to the grindstone and do what needs to be done.  There was no time or energy for pretty.

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And now my closet has what is whole and good.  Sheets are whole and good, so are the towels.  My boyfriend reminds me every day that I should be surrounded by pretty every day.  What a beautiful thing to say.  And so it goes.

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After a year of rebuilding it is now that I find myself whole again.  And when you are whole, you can truly get rid of that which is tattered and worn, because that is no longer who you are.  You have evolved further than your past can take you.  And you must shed the skin of your old self because it is too tight and small.  I never knew, never thought that moving in with someone would teach me these things. What a wonderful discovery.

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The other part of moving in together is figuring out how the furniture will blend.  I have a full 4 bedroom house!  Well, three bedrooms and a huge office.  We have to figure out which dining room table, breakfast table, desks (I have 3) and chairs stay and which leave.  And as we went through the kitchen, I was pleasantly surprised how easy it was to compromise – as never before have I ever allowed someone else in “My kitchen.”  Like mother like daughter…

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And it seems symbolic of making a life with another, as it is a gentle weaving of thoughts and styles, meshed together to make one beautiful life.  Letting go of old fears, to make room for new hopes. For me it is exciting to have a partner, not just someone taking up space, or using for as much as they can get. This is a person with whom to build.  And all those fears are outdated, just like the worn out clothes and towels.

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And so it goes, the weaving in and out of life, the building, piece by piece, as we sort though what is to be kept and what to let go. And the load is lighter.

The Guts and the Glory

In this life you have to have guts.  Guts to say how you feel and do what needs to be done.  You also have to have the guts to do what is right for you, because it’s your life.  You ahve to be willing to sometimes make people upset, if it means that you are following your truth and what will make you happy.  Basically, you have to have the guts to have the life you want, a life that feels the way you want it to feel.

I have long said that instead of asking what job title you want, or what things you want to accomplish, or put on your bucket list, think about how you want you life to feel?  For instance, you may want a job title of VP…but what if that means that you are working 100 hours a week, never have time for your friends and family, and are always tired?  Is that how you want your life to feel?  No?  Then you probably will not be happy as a VP.  Instead, what makes you happy?  What inspires you?  Go after what will make you feel that way…not the job title, or zip code, or flashy car.  If you have to work all the time to afford that big house on the hill, maybe downsize so you can afford a house and sometime off (maybe a vacation?) Go after the feel.

And do to that, you have to have guts. And you have to follow your guts as well.  That means following that gut instinct that tells you where and what will make you happy, what will make you feel fulfilled and good.  Follow that positive energy that feeds the soul.

Oh, but that can be hard can’t it?  But it’s worth it. And that is what a good friend reminded me today as I was making a decision .  Go after the quality of life that you want, and don’t try to force it because of expectations.  And a weight was lifted off my shoulders.  It was a decision that I already knew, but wanted to run past someone to validate that I was not crazy. And indeed, having a the guts to follows your gut instinct is what will lead you to happiness.

How do you measure success?  By my quality of life.  That doesn’t mean fancy, expensive things.  That means being happy, being fulfilled, having a purpose and loving what I do.  Having a life I am excited to live every morning.  Sound corny?  Not at all.  Happiness is priceless and your guts will never lead you wrong.  Do it and start building the life you want.

The Unexpected Path

It was a normal morning… I got up, did some reading, worked on writings.  Then got ready to take my car in for repairs. It was only supposed to take a few hours at most. Four and a half hours later, and it was finally done.  And that was pretty much the day…no going to the gym because I still had work to do.  No cleaning up or such.

Irritated that my perfectly planned day was not going to plan, I grabbed a sandwich, planning to go back home to work. Traffic was terrible and it took twice as long to get to the sandwich shop by my house.  By the time I get there I was starving.

But then something happened. Something that made me realize why everything had gone so late. When I walked in, a disabled young man was there as well.  Clearly in distress, he was trying to get the store owners to call the police, because he did not want to go home as his parents beat him and he did not feel safe.

Another patron and I calmed him down and called the police (the store owners refused??). We sat with him and talked. I bought him lunch and we waited with him until the police arrived to help.  When the police arrived, we told them what happened, they talked to him and took it from there.  Both the other patron and I waited to make sure everything was OK before we left and gave the young man a hug.  He had been very brave.

Sometimes, when things are running late and taking way too long, as they often do, maybe there is a reason. I believe that God put both me and the other person there to help that young man at just the right time.  I believe that was the reason everything took so long yesterday.

So take a deep breath and know that maybe there is a reason, even if we don’t know it and can’t see it.  Maybe a bigger picture is being put together and we are a pixel in the brilliant tapestry.

The Road to Happy

Sometimes you have to travel many lines down the road to get to happy.  Sometimes it takes years, sometimes it comes faster.  Whichever way, it seems that there are books galore about how to obtain that illusive happy.  I myself have been through a rough time that just in the past year I have recovered and feel like my life is back on track with where it was headed.

A string of bad luck and hard times hit about five years ago, starting with being brutally attacked by the then boyfriend. Being stalked by him for the next 18 months didn’t help the situation or my happiness factor.  Add to that, my father was in and out of the hospital with complications from chemotherapy. And then there was the House of Mold, as well as some minor things like loosing jobs due to budget cuts, family issues and a few break ups.  It was rough and there were thousands of  steps, hundred of miles, millions of heartbeats, countless tears and so much re building that I was beginning to wonder if Happy would ever happen.

And them, one day, I realized it had.  I was finally there.  But there was no fan fare, no big  moment or event, no epiphany. It just slowly, crept up on me. I was smiling and laughing more, feeling lighter and freer, enjoying life more.

But how exact;y did I get there?  How does someone who is going through or has been through a rough spot, get back to happy? I don’t know.  But here is what worked for me.

Pray:  Pray and have faith.  I have prayed some of the most sincere prayers  after sobbing in the shower where no one could hear the tears.  Bottom line is that faith got me through the worst of times, when there was nothing else to hold onto.

Forget what other people think:  If you live your life trying to please everyone, or trying to keep up the the Jones’s, your will drive yourself crazy and end up unhappy and frazzled.  Do what you want, live your life, follow your gut and forget everything else.  IF someone doesn’t like what you do or how you do it…so what?  Move on.

Family and friends – the right kind of people in your life can make ll of the difference.  And the wrong kind of people, those who are beneath you, can hurt you much more that those who are your kind.  This is because those who do not play fair know how to cut you deeper, because many times they will hit below the belt.

And when I say the right people, I am not talking about those who make a lot of money, have big houses and expensive cars.  I mean those who are loyal, those that will stand behind and support you when you are down. Those friends who will inspire you, motivate you, kick you in the pants when you need it, and bring wine and ice cream when you need them too, are invaluable. The kind of people who have your back make any situation better.

Celebrate the little things – In life there a few really big wonderful moments, but they don’t happen very often  So celebrate all the little things, those perfect moments, that happen every day.  A beautiful day, your favorite song on the radio, a great meal, a good glass of wine, a beautiful sunset, can all be celebrated and appreciated.  Do this and those big moments won’t seem so far apart.

“The best kind of laughter is laughter born of a shared memory.”–Mindy Kalin

Laugh, a lot – Having the right kind of people in your life in important, but so is having the right kind of relationships.  The ones where you can really be yourself and laugh. A lot. Laughter truly is the best medicine and if you find the relationships where giggles are plentiful, it can get you through the worse of times.

Breath and let go  – One of the most important things that worked for me, was letting go of all the negative. All of that old baggage, all the hurts and tears. This one may take some time to work through issues , but it is well worth it.  When it is all done, you feel lighter, more hopeful and l have room for all the good positive things in your life.

 

 

 

Having it All

“What have you done, on your own?  What have you accomplished, standing on your own two feet, to make a positive contribution to society and show you are not just a burden to those around you?”

I have so much respect for those who get off their butts and go out into the world to make something of themselves.  Those who do not expect others to support them while they sit and play.  So many of my friends are amazing women (and men), who have carved out a space for themselves. made a positive contribution, worked hard and accomplishes much.  But that is not all that they have done.

They have become some of the most amazing human beings along the way.  They are amazing, strong, compassionate women and I am beyond proud to have them as friends and confidants.

I was having a conversation with one of them last week, catching up, talking about the many thing going on in our lives.  She is pregnant, and she and her husband will have 7 children in their blended family when this little girl is born (yes, Seven!). She has been one of the top rated female Dj’s in  Atlanta and Nashville, she has written a book, hosts a podcast, has been the spokes person for autism and is now raising a bunch of children, making sure all are fed, cleaned and homework is done.  I am in awe of her.

“Let’s face it, having it all sucks!”

And yet she cannot do it all.   And neither can any of my friends.  And these are amazing women who are smart, confident, capable and confident.  My pregnant friend said she was talking with a mutual friend who said that she was exhausted trying to have and do it all, and she was just accepting the fact that somethings we not going to get done.  But that she was afraid of being judged because she couldn’t do it .

To me, this is a refreshing reminder that no matter ow together we are, or together we think other people are, we are all just human.  None of us can do it all.  Which means that when one part of our lives is going well and is perfect, another part is a mess.  Am I am bad person because this makes me happy?  No, it makes me human that I am happy that others are human, just like me.

I have always , been on my own, everything I have I have worked hard for and earned on my own.  And the same with all of my friends.  None of us have depended on another, a boyfriend or husband, to support us.  We got out and made it happen ourselves.  And I may not have as much as others, but what I do have is mine.  But…

But often times my house is a mess.  The bed isn’t made, dishes are in the sink on any given day, the floor needs to be mopped and carpet vacuumed, and let’s not even get into to the dusting of things…If you try to do it all, have it all, you will just end up being tired and cranky.

The bottom line is, whether you stay home and take care of the kids, or you have a career, at least work hard and contribute something. Don’t depend on or be a burden to those around you. Don’t use people or expect them to support you if you are not willing to go out and support yourself.  Basically, don’t be a mooch.

You can’t do everything, but at least do something to contribute. Be passionate about providing for yourself, being in control of your own life.  Stand up on your own two feet. As long as you do this….don’t worry about not being able to do it all.  The fulfillment you will have in contributing what you can, is enough.  There is nothing more satisfying than knowing you made your life for yourself.  Then, and only then, will you be truly capable of sharing life with another.

 

The season of…

Here we are in the middle of the most festive season of the year.  It is also the season of exhausted. And broke.  So much running around, shopping, visiting, catching up, driving in Atlanta traffic and rushing around.  There are 3 December birthdays in my family, plus my nephews graduation. And my father coming up for MRI scans to check his liver cancer (that’s still in remission – yay!).

It is the season of miracles, as I look at both of my parents who are in remission from terminal cancers. I am amazed how powerful prayer and faith are. And I remember this as I search from Grace in my own life and daily activities (many days I fail, but I always am striving to do better).

It is the time of wonderful Christmas commercials. For those of us who get emotional during PMS, watching TV with PMS at Christmas is like a minefield – every channel has touching commercials about military coming home, the elderly being invited over for Christmas dinner, rescue puppies being saved and such. Tis the season of a coffee or cereal commercial pushing me over the edge and reducing me a pile of tears. I just keep a box of tissues by the remote.

It is also a time when I miss some friends who have passed. Like one of my best friends in high school.   Wonder what she would be like now, and remember her smile and how she loved Christmas.  I remember Lavan Robinson, who was in charge of music at the small church I grew up in in my hometown.  Every Christmas Eve he would sing “Oh Holy Night” in a way that would give you chills, because his voice was so clear and beautiful. I can’t hear that song without thinking of him, and the many years I heard him sing it at Midnight mass. And most of all, I think of my best friend who I lost this year. I miss his text messages he would send almost every day.  And I miss just knowing that he was out there, that a human being as wonderful as he, was out there in the world. He and his wife were married on Christmas Eve, so this will be a rough holiday for her.

This year we are taking a Christmas tree to Mom and Dad’s and decorating it for them. There will be much love, laughter and hot chocolate no doubt. It is a time of being excited about gifts.  Don’t you just love it when you have a gift for someone that you know that are going to absolutely love?  I get so excited that it’s hard for me to wait. That is actually the reason I don’t buy gifts early – because I get so excited that I end up giving them before Christmas. (or at least that’s my story)

There are gifts for me under the tree …and they are driving me crazy.  I have been told that I can’t touch them…but when have I ever listened when told what to do? (It’s that problem with authority).  So I just gaze at them longingly from across the room by day. But they whisper to me at night…”come shake me,” they say softly in my ear. And so I must.  Still can’t figure out that they are. Which makes it all the more delicious.

And then there are all the Christmas Yummies.  Those are all the delicious things that are at the office, at the parties or just around at Christmas. There is a reason why most people gain weight during this time of year. And I already told all everyone if they notice a few extra pounds on me, I really don’t care. Because I am not going to pass up any Christmas Yummies. Life is short. Eat the chocolate. I can go to the gym when I’m dead. Besides, 70% of people make New Year’s resolutions to lose weight and eat healthier. I wouldn’t want to be left out. So this season, it’s all about the base.

But oh, I am so sleepy. While visions of sugar plums may dance on the heads of others, I think of a warm bad, soft blankets and squishy pillows. I think of curling up with my furry babies, all warm and nestled down in the covers. There are warm socks to wear, books to read, movies to watch while snuggling on the couch. Because it is also the season of small perfect moments and warm rooms. Mostly because, all because, it is the season of love.

Graduation Day

When I was 36 I prayed for something larger than myself.  I wanted to build something that would outlast me, something that was more important that just me and what I wanted.  A week later I got a call that my oldest nephew had been accepted to Southern Polytechnic University’s Mechatronics degree program. And there the adventure began.

When he was in high school, I whispered in his ear that he should come up to Atlanta to go to college.  I would be there, and I could help him with whatever he needed – food, money, laundry, car service, books, and supplies, whatever.  I promised him that whatever he needed, he would have. And indeed that is how it went.  He called when he needed things and there was much fun that was had  I was his “Almost parent” and I loved it.

He had to learn a few things on his own, like why you don’t take an 18 hour course load of all difficult upper level classes your first semester.  That was a tough one for him.  Or why you don’t drink all night before finals, or why you don’t mix light and dark liquor.  Things like why you want to talk to your advisor and why you do want to make friends with the ladies in the administration office.

Today he is graduating…today I will watch this man walk across the stage and accept what he has earned and worked very hard to obtain.  My heart is about to burst with pride.  My father and I will be there to see him (he says it’s a bigger deal to us than it is to him, which is probably true).

And I am ever so thankful for that day my prayers were answered. Everything was worth it to see this young man graduate today. He did it. Today he reminds me of what is truly important in life – it is not the things that we have, no matter how pretty or luxurious. It is those whose lives we touch. It is the promises we keep. It is lifting others and building something bigger and more important than yourself.