I overheard a story today. It touched my heart.
A man and woman met and fell in love. His cancer returned. Knowing well what she might be in for, the woman accepted his marriage proposal. They were legally married on March 2, 2008. The years go by. The cancer is held at bay as it charges again and again. Each time the man fights. He never loses resolve. Neither does the woman. She cares for him through every stage, through every hospital visit, through every surgery and chemo treatment. When he is well enough, they travel. They spend as much wonderful time together as they can to prepare for the inevitable. Years pass and the man, though strong emotionally and mentally, cannot fight the effects of the cancer anymore. She is there with him as he breathes his last breath. She is sad, yet relieved that her love will not hurt anymore. He never complained, but she knew....she knew. They hold a memorial service for him in a church he helped build...on March 2, 2012.
To Laura Jeffcoat. A strong woman. A faithful woman. Happy Anniversary.
Your rewards will be great. You were exactly what God designed a wife to be.
Thank you for loving my Uncle Darrell through so many hard times. More hard times than you ever deserved. I will forever be grateful to you and will always hold you in the highest esteem.
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Monday, February 27, 2012
BFF
When I was a child Jill and I were inseparable. I loved absolutely everything about her. I even slept with her clothes that she left at my house because they smelled like Jill. When I grew up, I wanted to marry Jill. After all, that was the ultimate display of love in my world. We would stay up late at night giggling, telling the silliest stories about who's dad could poot the loudest. There were days at the beach that happened on the brown 70's carpet of her mom's den as we basked under our imaginary sun with our large umbrella and authentic seashells laying around us for props. We climbed trees, we rode bikes, I even had my mother make us matching dresses for our Kindergarten padgett where we both were flower's in Mary Mary Quite Contrary's garden. I loved her to no end.
And then we grew.
The magic faded as the years passed by. We attended different schools, liked different things, took different paths. Before I knew it, Jill was just a person I heard about through the grapevine every now and then.
Fade into high school...because the middle school years were just too much trouble and we were all awkward.
Donald. A boy. Can a boy and a girl be best friends? Yes, we were determined that they could. Although, we claimed the movie, "When Harry met Sally" as our own parallel story, we never crossed the line to relationship. We never kissed. But we were intimate with our thoughts and our ideas and our problems. We could talk about absolutely anything. We knew what we had was special and we treasured it. However, the main problem with a boy and a girl being friends is that there will always be the "girlfriend" that gets in the way of it. And she did. And being the hormone filled boy that he was, Donald drifted away on a flurry of different ladies until our time together consisted of a one hour phone call twice a year...sometimes less.
Onward to college.
Amanda. She was another Jill. I was smitten by her. We had so much to talk about and connect with. I loved her so dearly and would crush her with hugs as often as I could. We did everything together and since we lived, ate, schooled and played together, we were two peas in a pod...the yin and yang, the tweedle dee and tweedle dum. Life was exuberant around her...it was full of possibilities with plans ranging from how our children would meet and marry to how we would grow old and come back to live with each other once our husbands were dead and gone. It seemed so solid. So indestructible.
And then there was marriage and children and the distance from her house to mine seemed to grow ten times...as did the distance between our connection. Still today we grasp at straws trying to rekindle that one-of-a-kind friendship that once was, but now is lost. We try and mesh our separately constructed worlds into a cohesion that just doesn't quite fit anymore with all the new participants like husbands and kids. I grieve it's loss quite often. And I wonder if she does too.
So
now I sit at 35...alone. Life and growing and becoming have robbed me of precious people to whom I gave away my heart.
I have other friends now. But there is always that fear that if I give too much, I will just be left again with the emptiness. And because of that, there are no BFF's. And part of me doubts there ever will be again. That is a solemn and sad thought.
And then we grew.
The magic faded as the years passed by. We attended different schools, liked different things, took different paths. Before I knew it, Jill was just a person I heard about through the grapevine every now and then.
Fade into high school...because the middle school years were just too much trouble and we were all awkward.
Donald. A boy. Can a boy and a girl be best friends? Yes, we were determined that they could. Although, we claimed the movie, "When Harry met Sally" as our own parallel story, we never crossed the line to relationship. We never kissed. But we were intimate with our thoughts and our ideas and our problems. We could talk about absolutely anything. We knew what we had was special and we treasured it. However, the main problem with a boy and a girl being friends is that there will always be the "girlfriend" that gets in the way of it. And she did. And being the hormone filled boy that he was, Donald drifted away on a flurry of different ladies until our time together consisted of a one hour phone call twice a year...sometimes less.
Onward to college.
Amanda. She was another Jill. I was smitten by her. We had so much to talk about and connect with. I loved her so dearly and would crush her with hugs as often as I could. We did everything together and since we lived, ate, schooled and played together, we were two peas in a pod...the yin and yang, the tweedle dee and tweedle dum. Life was exuberant around her...it was full of possibilities with plans ranging from how our children would meet and marry to how we would grow old and come back to live with each other once our husbands were dead and gone. It seemed so solid. So indestructible.
And then there was marriage and children and the distance from her house to mine seemed to grow ten times...as did the distance between our connection. Still today we grasp at straws trying to rekindle that one-of-a-kind friendship that once was, but now is lost. We try and mesh our separately constructed worlds into a cohesion that just doesn't quite fit anymore with all the new participants like husbands and kids. I grieve it's loss quite often. And I wonder if she does too.
So
now I sit at 35...alone. Life and growing and becoming have robbed me of precious people to whom I gave away my heart.
I have other friends now. But there is always that fear that if I give too much, I will just be left again with the emptiness. And because of that, there are no BFF's. And part of me doubts there ever will be again. That is a solemn and sad thought.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
The Perfect Man
I saw an older couple in the store yesterday. She was shopping for clothes and he was shopping with her. Did you hear what I said? He was shopping WITH her.
He wasn't standing on the edge of the isle looking annoyed. He wasn't out in the car just waiting. He was interested and participatory. It was a wonderful sight to see. My heart fluttered even more when I heard him ask, "Do you want me to go stand in line so you can shop a little more?"
I'll bet this man cooks dinner at least twice a week. He probably does laundry too. I'm sure he even does...dishes.
You can keep your boy toys, I'll take a man in an apron with a toilet brush in hand any day.
He wasn't standing on the edge of the isle looking annoyed. He wasn't out in the car just waiting. He was interested and participatory. It was a wonderful sight to see. My heart fluttered even more when I heard him ask, "Do you want me to go stand in line so you can shop a little more?"
I'll bet this man cooks dinner at least twice a week. He probably does laundry too. I'm sure he even does...dishes.
You can keep your boy toys, I'll take a man in an apron with a toilet brush in hand any day.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
The Pee Pee Princess
Obviously January has been a busy month...or I had nothing praiseworthy to report. Whatever the case, we have hit a major milestone today that must be shouted from rooftop: We have pee peed in the potty all day!.
Potty training with Addison has been nothing short of a battle of wills. She has been winning. But I have to attribute today's success to my husband's brilliant idea...the Pee Pee Princess dress.
Over the last year, we have offered many things to encourage Addison to use the potty. M&Ms, stickers, chocolate, skittles, toys, the park...you name it. We've tried the stern way, we've begged, we've attempted to bribe. Nothing has worked...until today.
Addison has a favorite dress. She calls it her Princess. On a daily basis I hear, "Mommy, I want to wear my Princess." She wants to wear it from the time she wakes up....till the time she wakes up.: Nap time, bedtime, anytime, all the time. Dr. Seuss should have written a book about this dress.
Today, I fully appreciated the presence and participation of Co-parenting. Michael brilliantly thought to make the wearing of this dress her reward for pottying and VOILA! like magic the child has used the potty four times today with only one minor accident because we were stuck in a car too long. That is such an accomplishment from 24/7 pull-ups the day before.
Hopefully this will be her turning point and we will join the ranks of the pull-up-less generation!
Potty training with Addison has been nothing short of a battle of wills. She has been winning. But I have to attribute today's success to my husband's brilliant idea...the Pee Pee Princess dress.
Over the last year, we have offered many things to encourage Addison to use the potty. M&Ms, stickers, chocolate, skittles, toys, the park...you name it. We've tried the stern way, we've begged, we've attempted to bribe. Nothing has worked...until today.
Addison has a favorite dress. She calls it her Princess. On a daily basis I hear, "Mommy, I want to wear my Princess." She wants to wear it from the time she wakes up....till the time she wakes up.: Nap time, bedtime, anytime, all the time. Dr. Seuss should have written a book about this dress.
Today, I fully appreciated the presence and participation of Co-parenting. Michael brilliantly thought to make the wearing of this dress her reward for pottying and VOILA! like magic the child has used the potty four times today with only one minor accident because we were stuck in a car too long. That is such an accomplishment from 24/7 pull-ups the day before.
Hopefully this will be her turning point and we will join the ranks of the pull-up-less generation!
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Christmas 2011
This year, Christmas was so much fun. Addison got her very own "house" which was a playhouse/tent, a baby alive doll, a tv/dvd for her room and a bunch of other toys and clothes. One of my favorite gifts this season were the handmade scarves my sister made for all of us. We had lots of yard decorations that Addison helped me maintain. She was always concerned about their wellbeing..whether or not they were up or not.
Thursday, December 29, 2011
On death and dying
I've learned that there are seasons in life. Seasons of contentment and of strife. Some of joy and others of stress. I feel my life approaching a sad season. I can't explain it really, except for the earie notion in my mind that nothing bad has happened in a while...so it must be right around the corner.
I've thought a lot lately about death and circumstances surrounding it. We've had two policement shot to death in the community within the last few months. There's was a quick passing. Unexpected. A suprise to everyone and unknown to them. They didn't get up that morning and think, will I die today? There's is a death that comes easily for the dying, but hardest on the family.
The flipside of that is my dear uncle. He has battled cancer for a long while now. It hurts my heart to see him and the evidence that it is winning. He is so young by any standard to have to face this demon, and yet he has no choice. He knows he is dying. He lives with it every day. He does sit and wonder, is this the day? And yet for his family, his passing will be bittersweet because we know that he will not be in pain anymore. That provides some comfort.
To the dying, they are either confident or scared of what lies ahead. They believe in a God and a heaven...or they believe in nothing. Although, even the most wretched people seem to believe in God when it comes down to the final hours of life.
What comforts the ones left behind? What takes that hollow burning out of your chest? How do you move on?
I have only lost one family member in my life, my Papa. I was younger then and the trauma wasn't so much the loss of him, but the effect it had on my grandmother. I can still hear her wailing cries in my mind. But I am older and more aware now. Now, I can foresee the toll it will have on me...and it's scary.
The only healing I can surmise, comes from the sheer march of time. Luckily it keeps going and the further we get from the incident, the better we feel.
I learned a short but sweet little lesson from my uncle a very long time ago. It's one of my favorite memories of him. We were having a family yard sale. All the aunts and uncles had brought things to sell, but to a child, it was a pure wonderland of toys and books. I loved books and saw a set that I really wanted. I knew we were there to sell our items so I asked my uncle, "How much are those books?" His answer, though obscure to a child, held true meaning that I understood: "Girl, don't you know that blood is thicker than water? You can HAVE those books."
I don't know why I've always remembered that so clearly except for the fact that it defined family to me for the first time.
Family isn't just some people you know....we're connected in the deepest, most intricate of ways. We share a bloodline. And that really matters.
It also may be the reason it hurts so very much to lose family. It is felt to the core...to the blood.
I think about my grandmother. I think about his wife. I think about his children.
I know I will be helpless to help them. There is no help to give. There is just time.
I've thought a lot lately about death and circumstances surrounding it. We've had two policement shot to death in the community within the last few months. There's was a quick passing. Unexpected. A suprise to everyone and unknown to them. They didn't get up that morning and think, will I die today? There's is a death that comes easily for the dying, but hardest on the family.
The flipside of that is my dear uncle. He has battled cancer for a long while now. It hurts my heart to see him and the evidence that it is winning. He is so young by any standard to have to face this demon, and yet he has no choice. He knows he is dying. He lives with it every day. He does sit and wonder, is this the day? And yet for his family, his passing will be bittersweet because we know that he will not be in pain anymore. That provides some comfort.
To the dying, they are either confident or scared of what lies ahead. They believe in a God and a heaven...or they believe in nothing. Although, even the most wretched people seem to believe in God when it comes down to the final hours of life.
What comforts the ones left behind? What takes that hollow burning out of your chest? How do you move on?
I have only lost one family member in my life, my Papa. I was younger then and the trauma wasn't so much the loss of him, but the effect it had on my grandmother. I can still hear her wailing cries in my mind. But I am older and more aware now. Now, I can foresee the toll it will have on me...and it's scary.
The only healing I can surmise, comes from the sheer march of time. Luckily it keeps going and the further we get from the incident, the better we feel.
I learned a short but sweet little lesson from my uncle a very long time ago. It's one of my favorite memories of him. We were having a family yard sale. All the aunts and uncles had brought things to sell, but to a child, it was a pure wonderland of toys and books. I loved books and saw a set that I really wanted. I knew we were there to sell our items so I asked my uncle, "How much are those books?" His answer, though obscure to a child, held true meaning that I understood: "Girl, don't you know that blood is thicker than water? You can HAVE those books."
I don't know why I've always remembered that so clearly except for the fact that it defined family to me for the first time.
Family isn't just some people you know....we're connected in the deepest, most intricate of ways. We share a bloodline. And that really matters.
It also may be the reason it hurts so very much to lose family. It is felt to the core...to the blood.
I think about my grandmother. I think about his wife. I think about his children.
I know I will be helpless to help them. There is no help to give. There is just time.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
A day with Addison is Awesome
I have some photos to share. Just random ones of my girl sleeping. There's a special peace you witness when you see a sleeping child. Sometimes, it's a funny thing to see too.
But I also love when she's awake. That's when the amusing statements come out and her personality grows. You can see her personality here.
And that would be nachos you're looking at. Have you ever seen a happier nacho eater?!!??
This is our 2011 Christmas tree. Addison was helpful and hung most of the low ornaments this year.
And this is my little reindeer. We could call her "Smitten". That's what I am at least.
Lastly we have some Christmas photos that I worked very hard to get this year. Three year-olds have Baaaaaaaaad tantrums. Let's leave it at that.
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