Where in the World are Rose, Lauren and Rachel?

Our fly by the seat of our pants trip to wherever we end up has so far turned into a fly by the seat of our pants trip to….

No where.

Yep, no where. We haven’t even left home yet. Our suitcases, cooler and sweatshirts are sitting by the front door where they have been since 3 yesterday afternoon. 

Tony was supposed to be home at 4, and for the first time probably ever in my adult life, I was ready to go early. That’s how excited I was/am to get this show on the road. We were waiting for Tony to get home because my car pretty much sucks so we are taking his car.

At 4:01, Rachel excitedly said, “I thought you said Dad was going to be home at 4! Where is he?”

At 4:15, he called and said he couldn’t leave work until 4:30, he wanted to get the oil changed, and he wouldn’t be home until after 5.

At 5:01, Lauren and Rachel both tried to call to see where he was. He didn’t answer, and they were pissed.

(At least I know they are excited for our adventure and have gotten over being pissed off at me. That’s a very good thing, because they were really super pissed at me when our Florida plans didn’t work out).

At 6:00, Tony called, finally, after numerous texts and calls from the girls went unanswered, to tell me that he wanted to put new tires on the car before we go. Great, where do you get the special tires that Tony’s car has on it on a Friday night? Answer: you don’t. We had to wait until this morning for that.

It’s now Saturday at 10 AM. The car is waiting at Jiffy Lube for tires that haven’t yet arrived, and my level of frustration is rising. Rachel is convinced we aren’t going. She is once again pissed because her friends are going to Six Flags today, and she is just sure we aren’t going on our trip now. She is driving me bonkers and asking me every 5 minutes when the car is going to be ready, or if it’s not ever ready, will I drive her to Six Flags.

UGH. So much for being spontaneous.

I sure hope our actual trip turns out better than just getting it started has turned out. I swore to myself I was going to blog about our adventures and fun. I only hope I have something to actually blog about. 

Where Will We End Up?

I could have titled this post a number of things…such as, “When Life Hands You Lemons, Make A Margarita  Lemonade.” Or, “Where in the World are Rose, Lauren and Rachel?” Or, “Life is Either a Grand Adventure or Nothing At All.” (not sure who to attribute that particular quote to, but it’s not mine). It could have been called, “My Trip to Florida That Turned into a Fly-by-the-Seat-of-My Pants Trip to…Who Knows Where!”

But, I chose “Where Will We End Up?” because that is going to be our story for the next few days. It will also be a story of making lemonades out of a bucketful of lemons. AND, a story of life is either a grand adventure or nothing at all. And we will most certainly be flying by the seat of our pants. But all of that was too long for a title. Although my last post had no title at all, so maybe a long title for this one would have been A Okay.

After having some impromptu plans I made fall through because I didn’t give enough thought to what I was planning, and after majorly disappointing my girls and I do mean MAJORLY disappointing them, (and myself too, I might add!) we had to come up with a new idea. I felt bad enough for my own reasons that our plans didn’t work out, but I felt extra bad because Lauren and Rachel were so very disappointed, even downright mad at me. It was my fault that things didn’t work out because I prematurely told them what I had in mind before I worked all the nitty gritty (important!) details. They were so excited, and then they were so angry at me when things didn’t turn out the way I expected they would. I know that is the way life plays out at times, but it wasn’t easy to see them so disappointed, especially when I was so down in the dumps about it myself.

SO, Lauren and Rachel decided we need to have some sort of fun girl’s trip anyway. Lauren even went so far as to say we should just fly by the seat of our pants (okay, so she didn’t really say THAT, but that is what she meant) and just get in our car and drive, see where we end up. I am really uneasy about that, though yeah, it does sound great and fun and very spontaneous and adventurous and chick flick worthy, but…well, I just can’t wrap my thoughts around driving for hours and seeing where we end up. I have been known to make plans without really thinking them through, even before this situation, and usually, they work out perfectly in the end. This time they didn’t, but at least in the past, there have been actual PLANS. Not having a plan frightens me. I like to have a plan, even if it’s not a well-thought out plan. I feel better having A PLAN.

Have I said the word PLAN enough? Why yes. I think I have.

While I don’t feel comfortable just throwing my girls and luggage in the car and speeding down the open road, I did the next best thing after Lauren said she wants to go south. I know that I don’t want to end up in Florida, since that is where I was supposed to be heading at 5 am tomorrow. I am pretty sure that would be way too depressing when I was already feeling depressed enough by how my uncarefully laid plans unraveled. So, I looked on google at a map of the United States, tried to determine where we could go, where there are interesting stops at various places along the way to wherever the heck we end up. I kind of broke the main rule of adventurous chick-flick worthy road trips and booked a hotel for tomorrow night in Memphis, only 5 hours away from home. (I think to make a really authentic road trip, you must not plan ahead, must stop at whatever no tell motel you happen to find when you are tired and it is time to stop for the night. I am way to chicken to do any such thing, so, I made a reservation. If we cross paths with someplace charming and quaint and unable to be passed up, we will stay there instead. But, for now, I take comfort in knowing that I have a destination, even if I am flying by the seat of my pants. For now, my plan is take the girls to Beale Street for some barbeque tomorrow night, maybe find a place to listen to some music, take a riverboat cruise Saturday afternoon, drive by Graceland and go from there. If we feel like leaving, we will leave Sunday morning to drive to New Orleans. It’s only another 6 hours or so, and I plan on stopping wherever and whenever we feel like it, and who knows where we will end up. I only hope it somewhere lively and fun. I hope it is somewhere the girls and I can make some delightful memories that we will treasure forever.

I am taking my computer on this grand adventure we are about to embark on, and I will post some awesome pictures and stories (hopefully!) that will (hopefully!) take my mind off what I wish I really was going to be doing the next few days.

Stay tuned. Who knows where we girls will end up. But, I have no doubt it will be a grand adventure. I’m sure it’s hot in the south, so we will probably drink lots of lemonade, too.

On Monday, I had a long, glorious phone call from Brandon. When my phone roused me from sleep just before 6 am, I almost didn’t answer it because the caller id said Unknown. For a second, I thought that no one who I didn’t have their number programmed into my phone would have any reason to be calling me at such an hour, but I answered anyway, out of curiosity.

I’m so glad I did, because it was Brandon on the phone! Brandon, whose voice I have not heard for nearly six months! I shamefully admit, I started to cry, all of the emotions I’ve  had over the boys being in the Navy and so far away from home, all of the  emotions I’ve had over the struggles and setbacks they have had, all of that bubbled over into a stream of tears rolling down my cheeks and dripping from my chin.

Thankfully, I quickly pulled myself together before Brandon knew I was crying, and I spent the next 2 ½ hours drinking cup after cup of coffee and catching up with my son. And, oh how wonderful that was! I talk to him pretty regularly on facebook, but our conversations typically go something like this:

Me: How is everything going?

Him (15 minutes later) : Good.

Me: What have you been up to? Have you visited any cool places lately?

Him (15 minutes later): Yup.

Me:  Okay, where have you been and what have you done?

Him(15 minutes later):  A zoo. An amusement park. A hike.

Me: Sounds fun! Where did you go hiking?

Then he logs off. And writes to me two days later to tell me where he went hiking.

You get the idea.

Every once in a while, we will have a really nice conversation, but I do mean every once in a while. Like once every 6 weeks. And those usually happen around 5 am. I keep tabs on him mostly through the pictures that he posts periodically.

It has been especially difficult and challenging for the past few months for me to be satisfied with these short, rare bursts of conversation. I know they are better than nothing, and sometimes often, I berate myself for feeling the slightest bit sorry for myself and boo-freaking-hooing over not getting to talk to him. In those moments, I think of moms whose sons were in the military, fighting wars when communication relied on the mail which was hit or miss and could sometimes take months to arrive at its destination. So yes, I know I have it good, very good, compared to THAT. My sons are not fighting in a war. I can write messages to them on facebook and via text. So, believe me, I do know how much worse, how much harder, things could really be for me. While I acknowledge how much harder and scarier it could be…it’s still been hard.

I haven’t told anyone this, but Brandon has been through some adversities the past few months, and it’s been really, really tough to not be able to talk to him or do anything to help. I have wanted to write about it, but every time I have tried, I didn’t know how to begin. I think that is probably because I don’t feel comfortable sharing the nitty gritty details in a public manner like this as that wouldn’t be fair to Brandon.  I will say that back in April, he told me some stories of things he went through in high school that were quite hard to hear, or rather read, especially knowing that he is now trying to deal with the ramifications of those things, four years after he graduated. Then, about a month ago, he had sort of a “meltdown” and was so down on himself, so distraught, and I was very worried about him. I mean, REALLY worried about him. I’m sure it added to my worry knowing that he is so far away from home and there was not one thing I could do to help him, not even have a real conversation with him.

With both of those things combined, I have had a couple of months of sleepless nights—nights spent  worrying and  praying…and wishing that I could just  talk to him. Throughout this past year, from the very day he enlisted in the Navy, I have told myself how wonderful it would be for him, how life transforming it would be. This time last year, he was working at a convenience store and riding his bike 8 miles each way through all weather, and I have had concerns about him for many years. Then, he joined the Navy, and while that brought on a whole new set of worries if I let my mind wander too much, at the same time, I had faith that this path he chose would lead to great things for him, that he would find his place in the world.

That faith has been a more than a little bit rocked from its axis and shaken these past few months.  

So, when I say that hearing his voice from 6,000 miles away the other day was great is a HUGE understatement.

Thankfully, he seems and sounds like he is doing really well. Better than well, actually. He talked practically non-stop for that two plus hours. He has always been a bit of a chatterbox, and he still is. I remember times when his chattering bordered on being annoying, but Monday, I loved it because I could hear for myself that while he has had many challenges and difficulties, he is still very much Brandon. He genuinely seems to be enjoying his time in Japan—he loves hiking and back packing and told me that he has subscribed to a magazine devoted to hiking spots, and he is purchasing camping equipment. He told me about some hikes he has gone on, and he is excited that his entire ship is going to hike on Mt. Fuji on August 1. He also has a friend that is teaching him to play the guitar, something he has wanted to do for a long time.

There was much more to our conversation, but the details don’t matter. What matters is how good it did my heart to talk to him, to hear for myself that he is doing okay, to know that he loves what he is doing and enjoying his time in the Navy. I felt such relief at the end of that call—such a release of so much stress and fear that has suffocated me for much of the last year. When the boys joined the Navy, he was the one I worried the most about.

But, he is experiencing and seeing things that most of us never will, and he is embracing it all. When we finally had to hang up because I needed to get ready for work, I told him I loved him and that we all miss him. He sounded a little choked up while he very casually said, “Yeah, I kind of miss you guys, too.” He’s not a very emotionally demonstrative person, so I took that in the same spirit that I take Justin’s “I miss you guys soooo much” tearful phone calls that come at least once a week.  

I can’t write about my feelings after talking to Brandon without writing about my thoughts I’ve had over the past year. It’s impossible to not think about this time last summer when the boys enlisted in the Navy and  I envisioned myself pouring out my thoughts through writing as time went on, creating for myself something I would be able to look back on in years to come.

Yeah, that didn’t work out so well.

 I tried, I really did. I sat in front of my computer many nights, glass of wine/tea/coffee/water, whatever I was in the mood for next to me, and I tried to write. I tried to put my thoughts into words, and it just didn’t work. I wish that I could have preserved this last year in a permanent way rather than just my own memories and thoughts.  When I envisioned pouring my heart out into words on my computer screen, it was before I knew how honest  to God HARD this would be. Before I knew lots  of things.

 Before I knew how it would feel to be in St. Charles, Missouri while your son has a crisis in Japan and there is nothing you can do to help.

Before I knew how heart-wrenching it would be to hear your son crying into the phone.

 Before I knew what it would be like to go six months without talking to one of your children.

Before I knew how hard it would be to have your child go out to sea on a ship with no idea whatsoever as to how long he would be out to sea and when I would be able to talk to him again.

 I’ve never had such a difficult time putting my thoughts into words. I know that someday, I will regret that I didn’t try harder to write more often.

It has been a difficult year. We have spent time with Justin, and that has been wonderful and maybe that is why I had the reaction that I did to talking to Brandon. After all, I haven’t seen him since the beginning of January. I probably won’t see him for a very long time. He will likely be a completely different person than the person he was when he left for Japan. I expect that, but at the same time, I pray that the changes that take place in his life are good, wonderful changes. I pray that the struggles and challenges he has faced in the past 6 months turn him into a stronger person, that he takes to heart the things he has learned . Most of all, I hope and pray that he takes his hardships and uses them to make his life better. So far, he seems to be doing just that.

Facing the Sun

A few years ago, I signed up for a daily inspirational email to be sent to me from a website called The Brave Girls Club. My coworker Megan told me about it, and as soon as I signed up, I was hooked because they are not preachy religious inspirational, but rather a bit silly and cute, and they always come with a greeting such as Dear Marvelous Girl. Some days, I don’t even read them, but I save them all, and when I am bored, I will sometimes read those I have saved all at once. Other times, I do open them daily, many times, I find it so surprising that the day’s topic often addresses something that is weighing on my mind and heart. Yesterday’s message was one of those. I haven’t looked at them for well over a week, and yesterday morning when I checked my email, I opened it. This is part of what it said:

It’s no fun to go through a stretch of yuck in your path. So make it as fun as you can. Keep your face toward the sun. Keep your heart safe. Nurture your soul. Feed yourself good stuff.

I loved it. Especially the “feed yourself good stuff” part.

That message reminded me of why I started writing this blog nearly three years ago…to live well in spite of whatever crappy thing is going on in my life. I don’t always follow my original mission of “dancing in the rain,” but I do keep the thought of it in the back of my mind at all times, even times that I find myself overwhelmed with…well…shit. I wish I was better…so much better…at looking on the bright side of everything as I should, and I feel like such a failure at times. Yet, I have somehow managed to accumulate a few readers of my lowly blog, women who write at times to tell me that I have inspired them to find more joy in the grind of daily life, and while I think that is great, I don’t feel like much of an inspiration most days. A part of me is kind of saddened by that too, because those who say that don’t really “know” me; they don’t know of the things I struggle with in life. In a nutshell, I sometimes feel like a fraud, like I’m not really “living” the way others think I do.

That all said, back to the topic at hand. Reading that passage from The Brave Girls Club yesterday made me feel okay about what I write here. I feel okay about being somewhat inspiring even though my life is often chaotic and in turmoil. I realized as I read yesterday’s message that what is important is for the most part, I DO try to make my life “fun,” and most days, I DO keep my face toward the sun. (Most days is good enough, right?) I do things every day to nurture my soul and feed myself good stuff. I do at least one soul-nurturing thing every day, even days when all I really want to do is crawl under a quilt or get in my car and drive somewhere far away where I can hide out.

I have been feeding my soul good stuff lately and keeping my face toward the sun. I’ve tried some new cookie recipes. I make a new homemade ice cream recipe at least once a week. I am growing herbs in pots on my deck that I have been enjoying using when I cook. (I made my first ever batch of pesto and my favorite bread recipe is so much better when I can go out to my deck and snip a few sprigs of Rosemary rather than dumping it out of a jar.) I painted my rocking chairs a beachy shade of aqua, and every morning, I enjoy my coffee on the porch. I went to a local orchard and picked blueberries that I made into jam. I take early morning walks with the dog. I have tackled many small projects around the house. Every day, I am thankful that I have things I enjoy doing that occupy my mind and hands and nurture my soul because I don’t know where I would be without those things. Those things are completely necessary to my well-being right now.

Also good for my well-being is a trip we took to Ft. Worth last week to visit Justin. Before we left, I was looking forward to it yet dreading it at the same time. I was looking forward to it  for a couple of reasons, the most important one being that we were going to spend three whole days  with Justin. When he was home in May, I barely saw him during the two weeks of his visit as he was so busy running around and hanging out with his friends. Three days without having to “share” him with anyone was something I was really looking forward to. Also, my niece Jean drove up from San Antonio, and I was very excited to see her. I hadn’t seen her since last summer, and I hadn’t yet met her little Annabelle, who is almost 8 months old.

I was also dreading the trip because I know that Justin isn’t happy in Texas, and while it’s hard enough talking to him on the phone and hearing the unhappiness in his voice, I wasn’t sure  how I would handle it when I saw and talked to him in person. I’m not very good at keeping my emotions in check these days, and I worried that I would be a puddle of tears. The last thing I wanted to do was cry in front of Justin or Tony.

Well, I am happy to report that the weekend was wonderful. Justin was so happy to see us. So happy in fact that he tried to stay awake all night so that he could meet us at our hotel when we arrived at 4 AM. While I know that he is not happy down there, he reassured me that he is making the best of his situation. He has joined a gym and works out every day with a new friend; he has met a girl that he seems to really like, and he spends a lot of time on his days  and evenings off exploring the Dallas Ft. Worth area. One night, just the two of us were sitting by the pool. It was the only time I was alone with him the entire weekend, and I could see that he had been trying to put up a good front for Tony—he does not want Tony to know that he is not all that happy with what he is doing or where he is at since Tony was so unsupportive of his decision to join the Navy. I flat out asked Justin if he was happy, or if he regretted joining the Navy, and I told him he could be honest, that I wouldn’t tell his dad what we talk about. He assured me that he does not regret joining the Navy, but he doesn’t like living in Ft. Worth, and he doesn’t really like his job all that much. He did say that he is still learning, and he thinks he will eventually get used to it and like it. He said that it has all been a bit of a shock—when he was in boot camp, everyone was on the same level, and when he was in school in Pensacola, everyone was new and on the same level. Now, he is on a real base, working a real job, and he is part of the lowest of the low at a rank of E1. He is having a hard time adjusting to that. He said that he knows that will get better, that it is just part of being in the military, but he doesn’t like it. LOL

Then, he said something that did make me cry, but fortunately, it was dark, and I don’t think he knew I was crying. He said to me, “Mom, life isn’t always easy, and sometimes, you do what you have to do to make the best of it.” That’s not what brought on the tears though. What made me cry was when he went on to say that he knows life hasn’t been easy for our family for a while now, but that “you always make the best of everything and if you can do it, so can I.”

Quite honestly, I couldn’t believe those words were coming from my 19 year old son. It boggles my mind that he picked that up from me, and it makes all that I do to “dance in the rain” totally worth the effort it sometimes takes. It made me realize that I must do a better job of being positive and making the best of difficult situations than I realize.

That wasn’t the only awesome thing about our weekend with Justin, and on more than one occasion, I felt my heart go pitter patter. I already mentioned that Jean was driving up to spend Friday-Sunday with us. None of us had met her sweet little baby girl, and we were all so excited. Jean is like another of my children because she spent so much time with us when she was a young girl/teenager, and she even lived with us for a few months after her high school graduation. My kids grew up spending summers with her, and they were just as excited to meet Annabelle as I was. Justin, though, was over the top. When he knew she was getting close to the hotel, he waited for her outside on a bench. He grabbed Annabelle out of her car seat before they even made it into the hotel from the parking lot, and he did everything he could to not let anyone else hold her the entire weekend. He carried her around on his shoulders, put silly hats and sunglasses on her when we were out shopping; he held her in restaurants when he was finished eating, he played with her in the pool, and he asked me numerous times to take a picture of him with her. He pushed her around in her stroller. It was so much fun watching him interact with her, and I got a glimpse of him as an adult with his own kids. Not that I am in any hurry for that, mind you! Yesterday, Jean texted me and said that Justin texted her to say how much he missed her and Annabelle.

 It is hard to put into words how bittersweet this past weekend was. He has grown up and changed so much in the past year—he carries himself differently, more confidently; he has put on weight and has bulked up. I know he is not a kid anymore, but it is hard for me to look at him as not a kid. While I saw glimpses this weekend of the man he is becoming, and that was wonderful, I’m not going to lie, it is hard, so hard, having him so far away. Sunday morning when we were all hugging and saying goodbye, he didn’t let go for a long time.

In the theme of keeping my face to the sun…while the last year has been a bit of a challenge with both of the boys leaving home and joining the Navy, this weekend, for the first time I saw what may be ahead in the future. I saw that no matter what may be wrong in my life, no matter what mistakes I have made and will continue to make, I have raised some awesome kids who I am so proud of. What better reason than that can there be for always dancing in the rain and keeping my face to the sun?

 

 

 

 

An Inspiring Yarn

I do not believe in coincidences, but yet I am always amazed when people cross my path at various times who seem like they were placed there for an important reason. Sometimes, I know right away what I was supposed to “get” from meeting that person, other times, I don’t know until I reflect on it a bit. But, I am always aware and I try to glean something from everyone I meet.

Today, I had the experience of meeting two people who I never expected to meet, and I knew within a few minutes what a profound connection it was.

Tony and I took the girls to the mall this afternoon because we “owed” Rachel a shopping trip since all she wanted for her birthday was some new clothes. After she picked out some things, Tony and the girls headed one way, and I went to Macy’s. We made plans to meet later in the center of the lower level of the mall.

I finished before they did, and I settled into a comfy chair for some people watching. Because what better place to people watch than at a mall, right? (Well, a bar is probably better, but I hate bars). Right away, I noticed a young couple snuggling on the couch across from the chair I was sitting on. The girl obviously had Down Syndrome, and the young man was eating a giant colorful swirly sucker and had his arm around the girl, her head laid on his shoulder. A few seconds after I sat down, he looked at me, smiled, and said hello. I said hello back, and he told me that he was trying to see how many licks it would take to finish his sucker. He seemed quite proud to tell me that he was NOT going to bite it at all.  

He clearly had some mental challenges, but I thought he was so cute. He quickly introduced me to the girl he was with as his girlfriend Drea, and he asked my name.  All it took for him to start chattering away at me was the smile I gave him when he said how he was going to lick his sucker away.

I will back track a bit because it really is important to this story.

For the past few years, I have been reading a series of books by Richard Paul Evans. The series began with The Walk and is about a man whose wife dies due to a horse riding accident. Within a short time, he loses his business and his home. He then sells everything he owns and decides to walk from his home in Seattle to Key West. The story is about the people he meets on his walk and how they, and his journey, help him begin to heal from his tragedy. This past spring, the 4^th installment of the series, A Step of Faith, was released, and I read the entire book on a rainy Sunday. I love the books, and unfortunately, I have to wait until next May when the final book in the series is published to see how it all ends.

Last spring, I spent a morning having breakfast with Richard Paul Evans when he was in St. Louis for a couple of days; my boss is good friends with him and invited me. He is  fascinating, a compelling storyteller, and I could have talked and listened to him all day. He talked about how he prepares and researches for each new book by actually driving the same routes that his character walks in them. He stops in little towns and big cities, eats in local restaurants and diners, visits out of the way tourist attractions, stays in hotels, and he uses much of what he encounters as characters and places and stories in his books. He does make some things up, but now, as I read them, I wonder what is real and what is fictional. He has certainly met some interesting folks during his travels, and I said that to him at one point. He replied something to the effect of, "We all do if we just open our eyes and ears and pay attention." After talking to him that morning, I vowed to myself that I was going to take the time to be more aware of the people I meet as I go about my life-- more interested in talking to random strangers I encounter. I have done a pretty good job of that, but there have also been times when I have mentally kicked myself later for not taking more time to talk to someone and hear their story. Let’s face it, there are some fascinating people out there in the world if we only take the time to get to know them, even if only for a few minutes. Everyone has a story, and not only do I love telling stories, but I love hearing them too. I think I love hearing them more than I love telling them.

This yarn has unraveled into a messy heap, so I will now start to wind it up into a neat little ball and get back to the couple I met this afternoon at the mall and how their path crossing mine came at the perfect time.

I ended up moving from my chair over to the couch next to them because the young man, Sebastian, was talking in such a soft voice that I could barely hear him. He said to me right away, “I guess you can probably tell that I am not right in the head.” He was totally serious and said it with a twinkle in his eye and a genuine smile on his face. I said nothing, (what do you say to something like that?) and he went on to tell me his story. He has Asperger’s, and when he was 17, (he is now 24) he was hit by a car when he was crossing a busy street and suffered severe brain damage. He told me all about how he went by helicopter to Children’s Hospital and that he had three broken ribs, a broken neck, a broken leg, and a head injury, and he had to relearn how to do everything.  After he introduced me to Drea,  I asked them how long she had been his girlfriend and where they had met. He told me they met where they work, at a place called Boone Center, Incorporated, a business not far from here that employees handicapped people who aren’t able to obtain traditional jobs.

The more I talked to this delightful couple, the more I wanted to talk to them, the more of their story I genuinely wanted to hear. I learned that they met because Sebastian came to her rescue one day when another worker was throwing empty boxes at her. He intervened and made the person stop, and according to her, it was love at first sight. She also told me that she had a boyfriend before Sebastian, but he “played girls and broke with me.” That is not a typo, she said, “broke with me.” As she said that, he hugged her, and she laid her head on his shoulder. I asked how long they had been boyfriend and girlfriend, and he said many years, she said three.  They were just so darn adorable. They held hands, smiled at each other, and me, constantly. Sebastian told me how after his accident, he lost all of his friends. Drea  replied, “but I am his best friend now.” So sweet…everything about them was just so sweet.

What really struck me though was when Sebastian leaned over and told me that he LOVES his life, he has a great life, and he is thankful to God every day for the life he has.  He was so sincere, and I could tell that he was not just saying those words for the sake of saying them—it was clear to me that he truly meant every word he spoke. I thought about his parents, who must have been so terrified when their 17 year old son was lying in the hospital broken and battered, and how blessed they must feel that he is alive and well and loving his life in spite of the challenges and difficulties they have faced and will continue to face.

I would have been perfectly content to talk with them for the rest of the afternoon, but Rachel called and asked me to meet her at American Eagle to look at some shorts she wanted to buy. Drea leaned over and asked if she could give me a hug when I told them I needed to leave, and I know I had more than a few tears threatening to fall. I hugged her and told her and Sebastian how much I had enjoyed meeting and talking to them. Sebastian thanked me more than once for talking to them, and said, “You are so nice, and if you want, I will go buy you a sucker!” J

To roll up the yarn ball a little bit tighter and weave the loose ends of this story into it, I walked away from them feeling so fortunate to have been able to meet them. I couldn’t help but think of the whole encounter as a kick in my ass. I’ve been in such a funk and so unhappy with some of the turns and twists my life has taken, but as I walked away from that delightful couple who thinks, no believes, that life could not be better and they are so blessed, I wondered, not for the first time, how I can even think of having a pity party for myself, no matter what problems I have or what things are going on that I think are too much for me to handle. How can I when this young couple sincerely believes they have a great life and are blessed by God when they both face challenges and hurdles every day that I know nothing about and can’t imagine dealing with. I am so glad I chose to go to Macys to look at food processors rather than go to Champs with Tony and the girls to look at running shoes.

It was a very humbling experience, and meeting them has strengthened my resolve to not let any opportunity to meet, talk and learn someone’s story pass me by. And, I know that I will not soon forget Sebastian and Drea.  

The Belfry

I think perhaps I should pack up and move myself to Virginia. I am not sure why, but the writer’s block I have experienced in recent months appears to be like Elvis and has left the building. My mind has been swirling with ideas, I have written an article for our Share  newsletter that I have been frustrated with, and I have even finished a few of my old blog posts. All in the past two days!

I spent the weekend at a work event in the Blue Ridge Mountains near where Virginia borders West Virginia, what is known as the Shenandoah Valley. The Shenandoah Valley links the Great Smokey Mountains and the Blue Ridge Mountains. It was in an area so remote that we had to fly into Washington DC, rent a car and then drive for four hours to get there. My boss, well, retired boss, has been there the previous three years, and I have always heard how peaceful, relaxing and beautiful this mountain vacation home is and felt a bit envious of  her, so in the days leading up to the trip, I was pretty excited about it.

And I wasn’t disappointed. From the time we turned onto the narrow gravel road that led us to The Belfry,

 

I felt like a kid on Christmas morning, so anxious to see what waited as we twisted and wound our way to the house. We were the last of our group to arrive due to flight delays and traffic getting out of DC, but great googly moogly…as we came up over a ridge…the house was a sight to behold.

From the second I stepped foot on the shale floor of the main entrance hall, I felt like I had stepped into a magical place. This spectacular stained glass front door welcomed us

 

and other than that, the first two things I noticed as I stepped over the threshold were this rock, placed on a huge table that looked as if it were made from an ancient tree trunk then coated with layers of shiny varnish

and a thick leather album containing poetry that had been inspired by others who have stayed at The Belfry over the years.

Within a few minutes of arriving, I was handed a glass of wine, shown to my room, which featured another beautiful stained glass window (each of the bedrooms did)

and was then ushered to the screened in octagon-shaped deck with hammock swings surrounding the perimeter.

 

 

Oh how I loved that swing! I didn't ever want to get out of it.

After dinner was served, we all settled into comfy chairs and couches in the great room that overlooked the mountain range.

 

and got to work. I’m not going to bore anyone by talking about the entire weekend, but I will say that house must have some magical properties. I slept better than I have slept in weeks, and I spent some time both nights I was there outside with my laptop sending my writer’s block packing.  

Maybe it was the cool mountain breezes that drifted through my bedroom window.

Maybe it was this incredible view.

 

Maybe it was the stillness, broken only by the sounds of whippoorwills, (so many whipporwills!) bees, and the awesome wind chime that hung just off the front porch. I love wind chimes anyway, but this wind chime tinkled out a soft sound of church bells, and it rang even when the breeze was so slight it couldn’t be felt.

Maybe it was just knowing that I was away from the hustle and bustle and chaos and uncertainty of my life, hanging out with people who don’t really ‘know’ me that enabled me to feel carefree and relaxed for a few days.

 I don’t know what it was…likely, it was a combination of all of the above. Whatever it was, I appreciated the diversion.

While this was a work trip, work was my least favorite part about it. Of course! I wish I would have had more time to explore, sit and think/read/write. We did have a break of about two hours on Saturday afternoon, and a small group of us took a walk down this gravel path.

 

I even learned how to play pool! On Sunday morning, I decided to skip breakfast because I wanted to read through the book of poetry, take another walk, and visit The Belfry’s replica of The Wailing Wall. It faces the west, just as it does in Jerusalem. I made my way through a gate, a buzz of mosquitos and bees and down a set of wooden steps.

 

I sat on a bench and wrote a few prayers on pages of the small notebook I brought with me.

 

It is said that the Wailing Wall is one of the most popular spots in the world for people to pray and believe their prayers will be answered. I hope with every fiber of my being that is true for the prayers I felt, wrote, and tucked into crevices amongst the stones.

I am home now, but I brought a bit of the Virginia Blue Ridge Mountains with me.  For the past couple of years, I have made an effort to bring something home from my travels, and I find a way to display whatever it is so that I can keep the memories of my trips close by. From this trip, I gathered some rocks and have them arranged in a bowl on my desk.

 

The flight home from DC was a bit rough and rocky and turbulent, and I was so relieved when the wheels hit the runway in St. LouisThe ominous black clouds that the plane plowed through upon landing let loose with lightening and torrential rain just as I stepped off the shuttle that took me from the airport to my car in the parking lot. I drove home soaking wet, as if I’d taken a bath in my clothes. I arrived home bedraggled, soaking wet, shivering, but glad to be home, while still remembering the splendid mountains of Virginia.  I wish I could find a way to preserve the peace and calmness that enveloped me over the weekend in the same way I have put those sparkling stones in a dish.

50 Lessons I Have Learned About Life

Wow, I can’t believe how long it’s been since I’ve written here. It’s not been for lack of subject matter, or even for lack of time or desire. I have written, or I should say, started to write, many things. I have a folder in my documents bursting with half written, or a fourth written, posts. Aww, heck who am I kidding…some of them have nothing more than a title.

I have no idea why I haven’t finished them. They mock me. Much like the old tub of unfinished sewing projects stored in a dark corner of my basement mocks me. At least a folder of unfinished writings on my computer didn’t cost any money like the tub of fabric in various stages of little girl dresses and tote bags and placemats did. There is a dress in that tub that I started making when Rachel was two, and next week, she will be 15. Yes, I said TWO. I swear, I am not making that up. I became frustrated late one night while trying to stitch in a sleeve, I put the dress aside, and I never found my way back to it.

I think that is how it is with my writing these days. I have so many topics I want to write about, but I’ve suffered from a severe and extremely frustrating case of writer’s block, and it is bugging the H E double hockey sticks out of me. I either have a great idea that I can’t quite come up with the words for, or I write, my fingers flying over the keys, when suddenly, my thoughts come to a screeching halt, like an invisible wall has slammed down in my brain, and I can go no further. That discourages me, so I put whatever I am trying to scratch out away in my blog post folder where it sits, eventually joined by many others. I hope to someday be inspired to complete some of them because if I do say so myself, I think they will be pretty good.

For now, I’m back. J I have no idea how long my next hiatus from blog writing will last, hopefully not long because I do miss writing. I really thought no one would even notice or care since it’s not like I have a huge following on my little ol’ blog, but a few people have asked me why I never write here anymore, and they even told me they miss it. That has completely astounded me.

I got the idea for this post on a blog I have started reading recently. (Maybe if I didn’t spend so much time reading other blogs, I might be more likely to write on my own, eh?) The woman who wrote the post that inspired me recently turned 40, and she wrote a list of things she’s learned about life. I thought it was such a great idea that I decided to steal it. (Not her list, just the idea). I thought it would be easy because I wouldn’t have to be all creative and flowery; I would be brief and to the point, something I am not typically very good at being when I write. I was right, and it was easy. Before I began, I worried that I might have a difficult time coming up with 50 things since my creativity seems to be on an extended holiday these days (I only hope it’s vacationing somewhere sunny where the drinks have umbrellas and the only footwear required is flip flops).

So here it is. 50 things I have learned about life. I wrote them the day after my 50^th birthday, which pretty much sucked by the way.

1.      Things don’t have to be perfect to still be good.

2.      Always pay attention to the little things that can bring joy to a day or a smile to your face, even if only in a small way. Watching the sun rise, laughing at your child’s dumb jokes and savoring the smell of baking bread can help focus your mind on things other than problems and difficulties for a moment.

3.      Some battles aren’t worth fighting. It really IS important to not sweat the small stuff!

4.      The most glorious days begin with drinking coffee on the front porch in a rocking chair while wearing pajamas.

5.      Life is too short to hold grudges.

6.      Forgiving someone isn’t the same as saying that what they did is okay.

7.      Never pass up an opportunity to let someone know how much you cherish and love them.

8.      There are more essential things in life than having a perfectly spic and span house.

9.      Crying doesn’t mean you are weak. It means you are strong and courageous enough to trust someone else to treat you and your intense emotions with loving care.

10.  Many clouds do indeed have silver linings, but not all of them do.

11.  Everything most definitely does not happen for a reason.

12.  Telling someone that has experienced a tragedy that “everything happens for a reason” will likely make that person want to punch you in the face.  

13.  The best things in life aren’t things. The best things in life are the people you meet and the experiences you have.

14.  Buying yourself a $5 bouquet of colorful flowers at the grocery store can brighten any gloomy day.

15.  Walking in your home at  the end of a long, crazy, maybe even very bad day, taking off your bra, putting on pjs and sitting down with a cup of tea has magical powers.

16.  Don’t be envious of things other people have that you don’t. There will always be people better off than you, but there will also always be people who are envious of what you have.

17.  Take risks. Yes, it is scary, but also necessary.

18.  Do not judge people—things are not always what they appear to be, and you never know the “real” story.

      19.  Doing things for others can bring joy to your life and a spring to your step when you are        feeling down.

20.  Sometimes, you just gotta laugh.

       21.  Just because something is expensive or a name brand, that doesn’t mean it is the best.

22.  Saying that your child will never do ______ before you have children is a sure way to guarantee that they will indeed do that very thing.

       23.  When the summer sun is baking you and your yard and your plants and you haven’t had rain in weeks, it will rain the night your child leaves his brand new shoes out in the backyard.


         24.  Never pass up the opportunity to do something kind for someone else.

 25.  There are times when “good enough” really is good enough.

 26.  Don’t let your crystal and china gather dust in the china cabinet. Use them! Serving dessert on your aunt’s crystal plates and making iced tea in your grandmother’s pink depression glass pitcher can make the ordinary more festive.

 

Hey, I’m halfway there, and it only took me 30 minutes to come up with my list so far! I suspect the next 25 may be harder to think of, but I am determined!

 

27.  Don’t ever let anyone tell you that you aren’t good at art.

 

28.  Never pass up the opportunity to get to know someone that it might seem you have nothing in common with. You might be pleasantly surprised.

 

29.  It’s okay to be sad about losing something or someone while at the same time feeling gratitude for what that loss eventually brought to your life.

 

30.  There are people out there for whom nothing will ever be good enough or measure up. The sooner you accept that, the happier you will be.

 

31.  When unexpected things fall into your life, make use of them however you can, even if they are not-so-good things.

32.  It is perfectly okay if not everyone likes you.

 

33.  It is perfectly okay if you don’t like everyone.

 

34.  There is nothing wrong with saying no.

 

35.  Bloom where you are planted. (stolen from one of my favorite artists, Mary Engelbreit).

 

36.  True friends are hard to come by. If you are lucky enough to find them, treasure them.

 

37.  It is impossible not to smile when you are watching a kitten play.

 

38.  If you wait until you have enough money to do ________, you will never have enough money to do ______.

 

39.  When problems threaten to overwhelm you, always ask yourself:  Will this matter in 6 months or a year? If the answer is no, let it go. If it is yes, figure out what to do about it and how to live with it.

 

40.  Before you get married, ask your future mother in law what things your future spouse did that made her say, “I hope that someday, you have a child just like you!” Even though you may have been a perfect, wonderful child yourself, your spouse’s karma may come back to bite you in the disguise of paying your spouse back for his/her past sins.

 

Only TEN more! I can do this!

 

41.  Your best will always be good enough.

 

42.  The grass is definitely not always greener on the other side of the fence.

 

43.  Always forgive yourself and always learn from your mistakes. When you know better, do better.

 

44.  Rainbows that brighten the sky, or your life, after a storm don’t negate the damage the storm did, they simply bring some light and beauty to the damage the storm left in its wake.

 

45.  God doesn’t always open a window when he closes a door. Sometimes, you have to shove the window open yourself. Or break down the door. You may need a sledgehammer.

 

46.  Sometimes, life just really and truly sucks and there is nothing you can do about it.

 

47.  Every so often, you just have to say “shit!” out loud, even if people can hear you.

 

       48.  The only person you can change is you.

 

49.  If your heart tells you it is the right thing to do, it is.

 

50.  Take time to remember what you loved when you were a child.

 

51. I am adding one more...don't ever  get all cocky and think you you have this computer/blog/technology thing all figured out because  as soon as you do, you will do something stupid, that you don't even know you did, that will make your perfectly lined up list go all wonky and out of order.

 

What I found interesting as I wrote this list is that many of the above items would not have been on a list when I turned 40--if I had written such a list. I guess one really does become wiser with age. Wiser and more in tune with what is truly important.

Until next time...