Crazy, Sexy Grief

I watched Oprah today. Didn’t know if I could or would considering the topic, but I did anyway. The first story was about a young woman, Kris Car, with stage-four cancer and her documentary Crazy Sexy Cancer. The second story centered on a young professor with terminal pancreatic cancer.

As I listened to each and their amazing outlook, I couldn’t help but connect it to my own journey (yes, Marc it is all about me). Anyway, Ms Car mentioned that “Cancer is my guru, my teacher”. WOW! how powerful. I can say the same for grief—grief has been my guru, my teacher the past two years. I have learned that any life-state one chooses to remain in, whether grief, seclusion, bitterness, or abuse will eventually terminate ones ability to truly live.

I watched these two incredible people—I cried and I laughed, but what I found myself doing most is evaluating my life. Kris explained that “Life is a terminal condition”, “we are all going to die, but how many of us truly live?” I want to truly live. Not a meaningless existence, but a profound one—not a cautious survival, but a courageous continuation. Superficially, the show inspired me to run out to the nearest Walmart and purchase a juicer then, faster than the speed of light, sign up for yoga at the YMCA, but realistically—I am inspired to take stock. Even considering everything I have learned thus far on my journey, there is so much more yet to learn. I want to be able to embrace my CRAZY, SEXY, GRIEF.

This I know for sure

Why Did I Get Married?

A friend and I went to this new Tyler Perry movie last night. It is a story centering around four couples and their annual vacation together where they explore the question “Why did I get married?” If you want more details, you can read a synopsis:
Why Did I Get Married?
Anyway, it was a great movie-no language or sex, just pure movie fun—with a tremendous message. It made me realize what an excellent marriage I had. I also recognized that creating a strong marriage was, at times, hard work. Watching these couples struggle through insignificant to major problems reminded me how completely I was loved and was then able to love in return.

I got married when I as 19 years old, by one week. My parents wouldn’t allow me to marry at 18, so I waited a week after my 19th birthday to honor their wishes. What did I know when I was 18? How did I know that this man, seemingly so very different from me, was “the one”? Chances are, I didn’t really know; but, he was---“the one”. When Don and I got married, we registered for china and stoneware. One of the options, apart from traditional place settings, was to purchase a "completer set" which included serving pieces and various other miscellaneous dishes. Don used to get a big grin on his face and say that we must be each other's "completer set". How true that was.

Why did I get married? I don't know the exact answer to that question. I was in love, that's for sure. I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with this person, but doesn't everyone? One reason I was so sure may have been because I knew how fulfilling marriage could be. My parents had shown that marriage was something to cherish.

Fortunately, I had an exceptional example of successful marriage from my parents. Mom and Dad weren’t afraid to argue in front of us (notice I didn’t say fight), they also weren’t afraid to apologize and make-up in front of us. I remember fondly the many times they were affectionate (and still are) and observed as they worked through very difficult times together. I hope my children remember that from my marriage. I hope they see that marriage is the most rewarding and fulfilling union one can experience and that along with great effort, comes immense joy.

I wouldn’t give up my 24 years of marriage for anything in the whole world. I don’t regret, and never have, getting married so young. Looking back, I am grateful for every year—every heartache---every moment of joy. So what does all of this mean to me today?

I liked being married, and I was good at it (I know my widow friends are getting tired of hearing that). I don’t mind confessing this out loud. I have the hope that I can experience the fulfillment of that sort of union again. At my age, I explore the idea of remarriage with open eyes. I don’t have a romanticized view of marriage, nor a stringent practical one. I am not looking for a prince on a white horse to ride in to sweep me off my feet. I don't need that at this point in my life (ok--so I never really needed that to begin with). What I am looking forward to is sharing life with someone—a companion—a friend and a lover.

This I know for sure.

Organized? Me?

I have decided to organize my life. I have lived in various stages of disorganization for far too long, it is time for action. As Dr. Phil says, “You can’t change what you don’t acknowledge” so concede I will---

Hello, my name is Marsha, and I am disorganized. On the surface my house looks fine. You could stop by my house and I would let you in the door. It is put together, relatively clean, vacuumed, dusted etc… - - BUT don’t open ANY cabinet or closet doors. I have created a 12-step program to address my weakness (I am, in NO way, poking fun at the 12-step program, which has helped many people overcome addictions. It is simply being used as a vehicle to make my point). Feel free to join me, if need be.

1. I admit I am powerless over hidden clutter - that my life has become somewhat unmanageable.

2. I have come to believe that a power (or cleaning specialist) greater than myself (or at least equal to) could restore me to sanity but isn’t likely to happen quickly enough.

3. I have made a decision to turn my will and my clutter over to the care of organization professionals, as I know them (which I don’t—know any that is).

4. Make a searching and fearless inventory of my organizationally challenged behavior and myself.

5. Admit to God, to myself and to other human beings the exact nature of my clutter.

6. Am entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character (oh and there are a few not listed that I could get rid of also).

7. Humbly asked Him to remove my shortcomings and to send help soon (I feel so much better now). Does God do this kind of work?

8. Make a list of all persons who should be doing their part in the household, and become willing to make them accountable.

9. Make direct expectations to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others (like the wrath of mom wouldn’t be scary enough).

10. Continue to take personal inventory and when I am considering saving something, or stashing something admit it (may not put it where it goes, but I will admit it didn’t belong there).

11. Seek, through thought and constant reading, to improve my conscious contact with organizational gurus as I understood them, praying only for a measure of their knowledge and the power to carry it out.

12. Having had an organizational awakening as the result of these steps, I try to carry this message to the unorganized and to practice these principles in all our affairs.

Hear Ye! Hear Ye! The first meeting of Disorganized Anonymous will meet at my house this weekend. Please bring cleaning supplies, organizational materials and enough caffeine to keep everyone moving. We can tackle my house first (brilliant idea).

This I know for sure…. (I wonder how many I should plan for?)

My Banner is Clear

I have thought about life and death more in the past two years than probably anyone should. I even find myself imagining what I want engraved on my cemetery marker. I know that might sound morbid, but it really isn’t. It is simply reflective.

After much consideration I now know what I hope to have inscribed: “Her Banner Was Clear”, fashioned after the following inspirational note found in the office of a young African pastor who was martyred for his faith. If this quotation is to be mine at the end of my life—I have a lot of spiritual work to do. I better get busy. There are certain parts of the writing I find especially significant in my life. I have noted them in bold print.

My Banner is Clear
I am part of the fellowship of the unashamed. I have Holy Spirit power, my die has been cast. I have stepped over the line. The decision has been made. I'm a disciple of Jesus. I won't look back, let up, slow down, back away, or be still.

My past is redeemed, my present makes sense, my future is secure. I'm finished and done with low living, sight walking, small planning, smooth knees, colorless dreams, tamed visions, worldly talking, cheap giving, and dwarfed goals.

I no longer need pre-eminence, prosperity, position, promotions, plaudits, or popularity. I don't have to be right, first, tops, recognized, or rewarded. I now live by faith, lean on His presence, walk by patience, am uplifted by prayer, and labor by power.

My face is set, my gait is fast, my goal is heaven, my road is narrow, my way is rough, my companions are few, my Guide is reliable, and my mission is clear. I cannot be bought, compromised, detoured, lured away, turned back, deluded, or delayed. I will not flinch in the face of sacrifice, hesitate in the presence of the adversary, negotiate at the table of the enemy, ponder at the pool of popularity, or meander in the maze of mediocrity. I won't give up, shut up, let up, until I have stayed up, stored up, prayed up, preached up for the cause of Christ.

I am a disciple of Jesus. I must go till He comes, give till I drop, preach till all know, and work till He stops me. And when He comes for His own, He will have no problem recognizing me-my banner will be clear.

This I KNOW for sure…

Expectations and Reality

What is our responsibility to others? What happens when our expectations of others NEVER matches the reality of the situation? When do we excuse others insensitive behavior simply because “that’s the way they are wired”? Personally, I am tired of making concession, but of course I will continue to do so—why??? Because in return, I hope they are making concessions for my own inadequacies.
Plain and simple…
Short and (bitter)sweet…

This I know for sure…

A Letter at Two Years

My friend Tanja recently wrote a letter to her husband on her blog-I found such solace in reading it that I decided to steal the idea to commemorate the two year mark since my husband’s passing. Please indulge me this one time:

Don,
Today marks two years since I last kissed you, hugged you or told you I loved you. I am terribly grateful that I was able to do that one last time. I am thankful that our relationship allowed for constant affirmation of love. You have been missed so much these past two years, yet your legacy has remain a constant reminder of your life and what it stood for.

You wouldn’t recognize the boys at this point. Our oldest son is in college and thriving. He has a lovely girlfriend and I find that he loves her as he saw you love me. There is adoration and pride whenever he speaks of her and they seem to be the very best of friends. He reflects so much of your spirit. He has taken the responsibility of “head of the house” yet still allowed himself the luxury of being a young man. He has bought a new car—which I find to be quite ugly, but is his pride and joy. We tease him that his new car is a toaster on wheels and that parking it in the garage is a problem because when the “Pop Tarts” pop from the top, they will hit the roof of the garage. You would not have liked the vehicle either, but would have understood his feelings toward the car because you felt the same way about that ’79 Camero (which, by the way, was MUCH cooler). He plays your Martin guitar often even though he doesn’t play with ‘the band’ anymore. He loves that guitar and takes special care of it. You would be proud.

Our youngest has had trouble adjusting to middle school. We have been racking our brains trying to figure it all out. I especially wish you were here to deal with the issues at school, so that I could continue my professional relationship there. You had the ability to make the rigid more open-minded and boy are we dealing with "rigid" right now. I would like to blame his non-conformity to the time of year or his aversion to adjusting to new situations, but I know what you would say. You would say, “Marsha, he is YOU---duh---this middle school stuff is not “fun” enough for him. Just relax, he will come around and hopefully school won’t ruin him” and of course, you would be right. He has become very sensitive to the spiritual aspects of his life. You would be proud of how he responds in church when he is moved. We sang together in church last month and it was a moment of great pride. He has an amazing voice and I think will discover this to be a talent to cultivate. In band, he is playing the drums, following in his brother’s footsteps. He still views life as “glass half-full” and remains true to his word no matter what.

Chelsie misses you. She did from the beginning. Even the vet told us that she was in mourning. We attempted to make her feel better by getting her a doggy companion who, in turn, bit Riley and….well---ended up in a new home. I don’t think Chelsie minded too much. She enjoys being “top dog”.

We moved to a new home not long after you left us. We live in the community we talked about moving to for years. My only real regret is that you didn’t get to live here. You would have loved the walking paths and the sporting opportunities so close to the house. We are enjoying riding our bicycles and walking to the baseball field. The house is a two-story structure which wouldn’t have thrilled you, but you would have liked the neighbors, as they are friends we have known for years. The ping-pong table is set up downstairs, but doesn’t get used as often as it should. We do think of you each time we play.

We are thankful of our memories, and strive to live for today and have hope for a future. The love legacy you left has allowed us to continue to grow through our grief. We miss you, but cherish the many wonderful memories that have allowed us to speak of you often in a loving manner. Your life has allowed us to continue ours. I get emails from Erica every once in a while. They always make me smile as she reminisces snapshots of memories from IP. Your mother is still a major part of our lives. We don’t get to see her as much as we would like, but that is because of our busy schedules. I know she misses you and your dad, but has become quite independent. She has even met some widow friends of her own. You would be proud of her, just as we are. She is a great source of comfort to the boys and to me.

Though there have been some disappointments in the male-role-model department and some promises that haven’t been fully fulfilled, I believe the boys have found their way. I have had to be enough at times and our oldest has assumed some responsibility. This is not a bad thing. It has made us all more self-sufficient.

We still laugh a lot, play games, root for the Cardinals and the Illini, watch old movies and allow music to continue to define our lives. We think and speak of you daily—always in the most fond and loving manner. We have hope for a future that will be filled with continued love and peace. More than anything, we acknowledge that God has been faithful. He has heard our cries for solace and answered—not always as we expected, but always fully and completely. So on this, our sadiversary, we honor you and the special place you reside in our hearts.

With Eternal Love,
Marsha

Reflections

The Don Cuttill Memorial Golf Tournament was held this weekend. I don’t know what I expected it to be or how I expected to feel or what the emotions leading up to it meant, but it was a beautiful and memorable day. Don’s mother, brother, sister-in-law, and niece were able to attend. David, Don’s younger brother, played on a team with my oldest son and my youngest son, father, brother and nephew also were among the participants (over 40 in all). When I watched the teams drive down the cart path after the first tee, I found it difficult to contain my tears. Later, upon reflection, I was able to grasp and fully understand what I was feeling.

These tears were different. They weren’t for loss, but for the way a legacy can continue long after the temporal. True legacy embraces the past as well as invites the future. Players in this tournament integrated family (those who knew and loved Don the most), friends (golfing buddies and church connections) and then those who never even knew Don, but whom his life and death have touched in some way over the past two years. I found that we were NOT commemorating a memory, but honoring how heritage affects the present. Don was not a memory on Saturday. He ordained the day. He was alive in each one of us. Perhaps in different forms, but he couldn’t have been more “amongst us” if he had been there in the flesh.

For the amount of unrest I have had the past week amid some difficult transitions, this weekend provided the respite my soul longed for. I was energized seeing all the folks at the golf outing and then at the pig roast. I was thrilled that we doubled the amount raised to help those less fortunate in our community. I was humbled by the love. Those who missed the event missed the blessing that this special day brought to so many--and that is too bad. However, I have no doubt that those fortunate enough to have experienced life with Don Cuttill Jr. have been blessed beyond measure. That will never change.

This I know for sure…

Transitions!

Transitions are words I try to get my middle school writers to use correctly and appropriately within their writing. I hate the standard transition most 11-year-olds have been taught to use: first, next, and in conclusion. They don’t seem to give the transition the honor it deserves. In spite of their previous training, we are working on using more complex transitions to better justify our writing. This got me thinking about life and our life transitions. These pivotal points in life often take days, months or even years. When we go through life transitions they are far more memorable than a few words can justify.

My youngest son started middle school this year. It has NOT been an easy transition for him (or for me). He has always encompassed the term “free spirit”, but not in an obnoxious way—in a silly kind of whimsical-way. He is a “glass half full” kid and even with his difficulties at school and the obvious frustration of his mother, he still manages a smile and a big wave when I encounter him in the hallway at school. When talking about C, my husband and I used to always say, “I sure hope school doesn’t ruin him.” Here I am an educator and worried that some teacher will crush his spirit. I don’t think it is possible. He won’t allow it. He will be happy no matter what. WOW---I hope that is genetic.

The transitions in my life recently have been multifaceted. They seem to be personal, professional and spiritual in nature. Teaching at the same school, in the same grade as my child has been a huge transition. It is difficult to separate the “mommy” hat from the “educator” one especially with a child who seems to be struggling a bit. I have found myself biting my tongue, not only where my son is concern, but where my colleagues are concerned as well. Transitioning into the role of single parent has been a bit rockier. This is one I have made “kicking and screaming”. I don’t like it—and there is nothing more I can say. I imagine this transition will be one I am continuously making

My oldest son is transitioning into adulthood. Having graduated from high school and starting college, he has so many life lessons ahead of him. He wears the hat of “head of household” a bit reluctantly and I often lean more heavily on him than perhaps I should. Yet, he rises to the occasion. He takes care of household tasks without my prompting—not the ones he is assigned to of course, but other ones, like calling the internet company to come change and replace the wiring to our house or organizing his dad’s tools in the garage (at 3:00 in the morning). Nevertheless, I am watching him transform in front of my eyes into an adult any parent would be proud of.

As a family, transitioning since Don died has been most difficult. We have all had to find new roles and paths to travel. I hope this transition will become a bridge to what lies ahead for each of us instead of an excuse to stagnate where we reside. The only thing constant is change. Transitioning is inevitable if you have the desire to continue to grow and live.

This I Know For Sure…

When Life Becomes Surreal???

Sometimes I look at my life like it really isn’t my own—like I am looking at a painting created by someone else. Who finds the love of their life at 18 and then loses him to death and has a chance again via technology to experience love again? Please allow me explain…

I met and fell in love with my husband when I was 17. We had 24 years as husband and wife and I treasure each and every one of them. Then, my worst nightmare became a reality when he passed away in 2005. We had talked many times about the life we wanted for the other if death were to visit. Thank goodness we had those discussions. They went something like this; “I want you to move on, to be happy and make solid decisions for your future and that of the children---more than anything—love and live again.” We would follow such discussions with “isn’t this talk silly—it isn’t going to happen to us”, but it did. I watched the past two years as if my life were some Lifetime movie.

I am looking at my two year “sadiversary” since Don’s death. A golf tournament, created in his memory, is next weekend. It is a great honor and I look forward to the memories. YET, here I am—so very fortunate to be given a second chance at love in this life, but afraid somehow?

I met a wonderful widower who seems to be a perfect “fit” for me as a 46 year old woman. We have many of the same interests and “loves”—he sings, which has always been something I love, he travels, which has been my dream, he is outgoing; which is what I need in a companion at my age, he is an amazing Christian man and my family adores him, but most of all he seems to love me. Though I still look at my life as if it were some movie—widow finds widower who understands and loves completely—I am afraid to claim it??? Hmmmmmm….why is that????

I find myself once more viewing my life as if it were not my own and I wonder “what is my problem”??? Sometimes I feel as if my life is some kind of crazy reality show---but it isn’t---It is my life—it is the sum of choices that I have made to move forward and it is who I am today. SO—I am consciously moving forward. I am exploring what “chapter two” has for me. I honor the memory of my love with Don and am thankful to what the past has enabled me to bring to a new relationship.

Surreal may be where I began, but “real” is where I have landed. I choose to move forward—to find a new beginning for myself and for my children—I choose to LIVE. I choose K—I hope he chooses me…..there---it is now documented…

This I know for----yes, SURE…

Pop Culture Defines Our Lives!!

I just finished watching the Saturday Night Live in the 80’s special on ABC. WOW—my life can be defined through a television program!! I graduated high school in 1980 and was married in 1981. I graduated college in 1984 and began teaching the same year. My first child was born in 1989. The milestones of my life can be easily measured by Saturday Night Life episodes in the 1980’s.

Saturday Night Live was one of Don’s favorite television programs. I found myself watching this special tonight laughing and crying at the same time. From Buckwheat to Hans and Frans to the Church Lady to the Blues Brothers, I can actually gage my life by SNL. Pop culture has a whole new meaning for me---I know what I was watching on television the night my children were born (Cardinal’s game for one and Illini game for the other—wonder who was watching??). I also know what I was watching the night my husband died (Jennifer Gardner in Alias).

I also connect popular songs with various events of my life. I know when I met Don the Doobie Brothers and Billy Joel defined our love. When my oldest son was born I can gage the time by Chicago (“Look Away”) and Janet Jackson (“Miss You Much”). When my youngest was born a whole new era had begun: Northern Exposure and Power Rangers muddied our television viewing and Phil Collins and Garth Brooks was in my cassette recorder.

I have always considered myself learned, educated and somewhat refined (for the mid-west anyway), but when it comes to what defines moments in my life---I find that pop culture more than any other “more sophisticated” means mark significant “life experiences”.

I am glad that I have these wonderful memories—these constant reminders of life gone by lived to its fullest….more to come…

This I know for sure…

Ready, Fire, Aim or Voice in Life!

I had a graduate professor who, when speaking of ineffective school districts, spoke of a “ready, fire, aim” mindset instead of a “ready, aim, fire” approach. I realize that I have been living my life in the “ready, fire, aim” mode for almost two years. I have given little thought to the future (which one could find amazingly ironic), I tend to put things off (some call this procrastination). I approach life with little to no forethought (ok that might not be too different than before). The result of such actions is that my life is in a bit of disarray. Nothing in my life is in an organized state and what’s more---I don’t know if I could identify how, or even want it to change. Dr. Phil says “You can’t change what you don’t acknowledge”, but what if you don’t want to change it? Do you have to simply because it is the grown-up thing to do?

I spoke to my students this week about the important of “voice” in their writing: about how, what they write should contain enthusiasm and/or passion easily understood by the reader. I have been thinking about the aspect of “voice” in a different context—that of what is our life "voice". I wonder if we have different “voice” at different times along our journey. Right now my voice is one of disorganized contentment. I am not talking about my physical surroundings as they are somewhat tidy (minus a closet or two). I am referring to an inner clutter that has been a result of a personal “ready, fire, aim” mindset. I am not sure others “read” this voice when they view my life from the outside, but perhaps that is ok.

Do I think this will be my voice forever? Not likely. I imagine I will tire of this untidy state eventually and personally “clean house”. Do I long for a more structured life? Perhaps - but change starts with crafting a desire to compose a different life “voice”. For now, the “ready, fire, aim” mindset has gotten me through the past two years. I foresee “ready, aim, fire” to be just around the corner---

This I know for sure…

Love and the Pain of Leaving

You might think the pain after a tremendous loss would be too great to risk the chance of experiencing it again. I have often thought about this, but never been able to put into words exactly how I feel. Once again, Henri Nouwen has, in a most eloquent manner, found the words which have eluded me. If Nouwen is a bit too philosophical for you, perhaps Garth Brooks would be more your “cup of tea”. Either way, the message is the same.

Garth Brooks (The Dance lyrics):
And now I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance.
I could have missed the pain
But I'd of had to miss the dance

Henri Nouwen (Daily Meditation):
Every time we make the decision to love someone, we open ourselves to great suffering, because those we most love cause us not only great joy but also great pain. The greatest pain comes from leaving. When the child leaves home, when the husband or wife leaves for a long period of time or for good, when the beloved friend departs to another country or dies ... the pain of the leaving can tear us apart.

Still, if we want to avoid the suffering of leaving, we will never experience the joy of loving. And love is stronger than fear, life stronger than death, hope stronger than despair. We have to trust that the risk of loving is always worth taking.

I especially like the last paragraph of Nouwen's meditation. I have personally experienced the immense joy loving completely can afford us, but as a result, I endured intense suffering (through grief). The risk of loving was worth taking. What's more, the experience has provided hope for the future. I can see myself taking the chance again because though the pain was great----"the dance" was better.

This I know for sure.

Who Really Knows...

Who really knows what someone else is dealing with? Seems most of us are professional actors in our own life stage play. People we come in contact with on a daily basis may have hidden addictions, excessive loneliness, insurmountable pain or depression and we, are oblivious.

I find two years after the death of my husband, I am an expert at pulling off the illusion that everything is simply perfect; however, in the stillness of my existence—that is not the case. I still struggle with the widow issues of guilt, regret and that feeling that life just isn’t fair. I am wondering if and when this will change OR is this simply the reality of who I have become.

Don’t get me wrong—I appreciate all that my life is now. I would say I am even happy. I have the love of my children, a lovely home, a job I am passionate about and the hope of a future with a man I am growing to love and respect, but I can’t help wonder if I am damaged in some way. My biggest concern is that I may never be able to live the life I know that Don would want for me.

I still miss him to the core of my soul—everyday and am not sure that will ever end. I have a feeling I will simply learn to continue to live my life with that underlying feeling of loss. Perhaps this is where the “faithfulness” of God enters our lives in a real way. Perhaps we are meant to live fulfilling lives, even with loss and heartache. Perhaps the point is that we aren't to live life alone, but with the solace a true relationship with God provides.

I find myself looking into the eyes of others to see what is really there…thinking I have some great insight---but I do not. I, like everyone else, am too distracted by my own “issues” and my own “concerns” to see those of others clearly. Good thing God is not like me. Good thing His promise is that he will “NEVER leave us nor forsake us.” We don’t have to live alone no matter what our circumstance.

This I know for sure.

A Familiar Journey!

I hate dieting.
I am not fond of exercise.
There I typed it out loud.

Four and a half years ago I had gastric bypass surgery. After a 140-pound loss I am starting to put on some weight again---I HATE IT. All my life I have struggled with my weight and for four and a half wonderful years I haven’t had to think about it much and the weight has simply come off. Now, I know---perspective. I am still 120 pounds less than I was. BUT I don’t want it to get out of control again, so I am back to having to actually DO something. A friend of mine just embarked on a new exercise and diet plan with much vigor. She has inspired me to do the same (thanks so much Trish). I only blog about this to have a place of accountability AND a public place to whine. LOL!

I would love to say this decision has to do with becoming healthy, but honestly it has more to do with fitting into the ridiculous amount of clothing I already own. Actually that isn’t totally true. I know I feel better, sleep better and am all around more content when I am in shape.

Here is the plan. I refuse to diet, as I have spent the better part of my life doing so. I refuse to deprive myself, which only leads to me eating more. I am going to watch portions and exert the greatest part of my energies to exercising. I have a walking partner that really could keep me going at an amazingly fast pace, I just need to get back in the habit (be ready Suzanne). Also, it appears from research I have read that some form of weight training is important for women of my age (geezzzzz!!!). I guess I am going to have to get the son of my walking partner (yeah Robo) to come up with a routine for me. He is a major athlete and will probably give me a “kick butt” workout.

OK—here is my starting weight … did you really think I would type that?? No, you won’t get daily or even weekly updates. If you want to know how I am doing, you will have to contact me yourself. Gee, as I read over this entry it sounds a bit – cranky. Wonder why that is?

Well I am off on a familiar journey…

This I know for sure.

Back to School Reflection

A new school year will begin in a week. I get excited this time of year as I anticipate all the possibilities a new school year brings. Teaching is an amazingly fulfilling career. Each school year is like beginning a new job. You have all new students in your classroom to reach, new content to teach and new opportunities to utilize. I am as excited as the kids the night before school begins. I can’t sleep in anticipation.

Therefore, it is not difficult to understand my disdain with the fact that public education unfairly tends to become the convenient punching bag for political gain. I believe the goal of education exceeds providing a "free, appropriate public education". It is the role of educators to provide avenues for students to learn; preparing them to become productive, contented members of society. Finding new ways to reach children through different methods should be paramount to educators today and with effective teachers (and there are so MANY of them) this becomes second nature.

What ties the hands of these successful teachers? New federal mandates and excessive testing have created a climate where attaining high test scores overrides teaching the child. I acknowledge the necessity for accountability. I just don’t believe the path we have chosen to do so is beneficial. There are better ways to create accountability without high stakes testing and without politicians (instead of educators) creating education reform.

Education is not only the responsibility of the school. Bonds between the school, home and community are necessary for success. Therefore the school should embrace and promote programs which connect the stakeholders in the community to the school. This becomes the win-win situation all schools so greatly desire. Finding a successful formula melding these different groups has been elusive, yet I applaud the attempts by several local school districts to integrate the community into the schools. This speaks volumes to the vision of the school leadership.

The mission of education is to create independent learners; children who naturally want to learn and continue learning after they leave the walls of the schoolhouse. This desire to learn should be fostered in the school setting and not squelched. Providing a safe and open environment where learning can take place seems to be the first step. This may seem a simplistic philosophy, but it should be the goal in which all educators, parents and community members are striving to fulfill.

As the new school year begins and I consider my own expectations, I challenge each of you, whether parent, grandparent, community member, or concerned citizen to do the same. Think of your role in the education of the young people in your life and determine to make a difference.

This I know for sure....

Happy Anniversary to ---- well, ME!

Today is my wedding anniversary, or would have been my wedding anniversary--26 years—a lifetime for some. I am not sure why, but today seemed to have been a bit more difficult than I expected it to be. I married Don when I was 19 years old by one week, because my mother told me I couldn’t get married at 18. I was warned that I would regret my decision—that I would lament my young adult years if I were “tied down” by marriage. That never happened. I wouldn’t have done ONE thing differently---I have NO regrets. In fact, I am so very grateful that I had those 24 years with Don.

I look at the faded photographs of that special day so long ago. The subjects look so very young—with a lifetime of hope ahead of them. Little did they know their time together would be cut short. How fortunate they decided to live life to the fullest.

You see, I liked being married. I liked being someone’s wife. I liked sharing life with the man I admired most and you know what? I was good at it. Perhaps it is this perspective that affords me the possibility of loving again—of having a satisfying marriage similar, yet unique, from the life I once had. This is the true legacy of fulfilled love.

Who knows what life has ahead for me? Who knows what is around the bend? To everything there is a season, a time to mourn and a time to dance. I don’t think I was ever aware of how close those two are to each other. Though I can’t imagine a time when the mourning will cease…I do hope for the time the dancing can begin.

Happy Anniversary to ME----

This I know for sure…

Tagged Part II

I was tagged once again by my brother, Evan; this time for a list of top-ten most influential books in my life. It took me several days to compile a list and, like Evan, I am certain it will change over time. I am an avid reader and because of participation in an excellent book club have read many great books in my day, but trying to come up with a list of the MOST influential---well, was a difficult task. But here it goes:

Mosaic of Thought by Ellin Oliver Keene and Susan Zimmermann – this book, along with my first master’s degree, changed the way I taught forever. This book can be accounted for my love affair with the teaching of writing.

Turn My Mourning into Dancing by Henri Nouwen – there are amazing healing qualities in the prose of Henri Nouwen. I could read this book over and over again and still find aspects I had not considered. Isn’t that the mark of remarkable writing?

Blue Like Jazz: Nonreligious Thoughts on Christian Spirituality by Donald Miller – the honesty of Miller and his struggle to come to terms with his faith resonated with me.

A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini – this is the most current book on the list. It was selected for my book club and I was less than excited to read yet another book about Afghanistan HOWEVER this one is beautifully written and once I started I couldn’t put it down.

The Blessing by by Gary Smalley and John Trent – I first read this right after my first child was born (he is now 18) and it not only was the best parenting book I ever read, it also gave me pause to be thankful for “the blessing” which was given to me by my parents.

The Grace Awakening by Charles R. Swindoll – I never questioned my faith until I was in my 20’s. This book was the first I read that helped define what it was that I believed.

Let Me Grieve, But Not Forever by Verdell Davis - On June 28, 1987, four Dallas-based Christian leaders were killed in an airplane crash as they were returning from a Focus on the Family retreat in Montana: Verdell’s husband, Creath, was one of those men. This is a story of her journey from great loss to healing-such an inspiration for me.

The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion – This work is extremely raw with the emotion of losing her husband The part that resonated with me was when she states "Life changes in the instant. You sit down to dinner and life as you know it ends." Didion explores the year following the death with the openness I wish all understood. I believe it is now a play.

What Great Teachers Do Differently: Fourteen Things That Matter Most
by Todd Whitaker – Whitaker’s book simply reinforced what I feel that I do in my classroom. His writing is motivational and supportive.

Everyone Knows What a Dragon Looks Like by Jay Williams – This is my most favorite children’s book of all time. I share it every year with my students and they fall in love with it also. It is a magnificent story of acceptance, courage, insight, and inner peace. Plus the extraordinary illustrations by Mercer Mayer are breathtaking!

As far as tagging others---if you read this blog consider yourself tagged, but be sure to email me or leave a comment so that I know you have responded. More than anything, I know the written word has great power to transform our lives.

This I know for sure…

Learning to Give It Up!

I just finished reading Give It Up! My Year of Learning to Live Better with Less by Mary Carlomagno. The book is about Mary’s journey to simplify her life and the benefits of doing so. She renounces one thing per month in order to make her life less complicated. She gives up shopping, elevators, newspapers, cell phones, dining out, television, coffee, multitasking etc… The book chronicles lessons learned as she gives up some of these life essentials. Carlomagno comes to realize what is most important to her life and the experience of giving up changes her forever.

I thought of my own life and my desire to simplify. What would I need to give up each month in order to achieve that balance? I began by brainstorming items and activities which seemed to zap my energy and time. The list included things like: internet, television, ipod and shopping. Then I made a list of things that cost money each month, but may not be all that good for me. This list included: Diet Mountain Dew, Sweets, and movies. Then I made a list of other things I might need to give up or curtail like complaining, gossiping and fiscal irresponsibility. I reviewed my list repeatedly and decided that I don’t believe I am strong enough to give up any of these things for an entire month. I am the poster child for the lack willpower

It is now July 31^st and tomorrow begins a new month. What a great opportunity to begin my quest to simplify by following the example of Ms. Carlomagno. I am beginning to get a bit excited at the prospect (I am sure this is fleeting), but here is my blueprint for the next 12 months to take stock of my life and create a more simplified existence.

August – Sweets (candy, desserts etc..)

September – Diet Mountain Dew (this might not seem like much, but I have about a six-pack a day habit)

October – Dining Out – this one will be REALLY difficult

November - Complaining (every time I complain, $1.00 will go into a jar for compassionate ministries)

December – Taking the closest parking space (I will park after the last car in the lot)

January – Fiscal irresponsibility (taking control of my assets)

February – Internet (outside of ONCE a day checking and responding to email)

March - Shopping

April – Impulse buying (I will not purchase ANYTHING over $20.00 without waiting 24 hours)

May – Television/DVR

June – Movies (going, renting or buying)

July – Ipod (yikes)

How about you? Any readers out there care to join me? Make a blueprint of your own—share it, because it will make you more accountable and then let me know how your life is affected.

I do maintain the creative license to change the monthly assignments, but the tasks will remain the same. So, I am off to eat my last piece of birthday cake as well as the package of Twizzlers sitting on my cabinet----

This I know for sure…

It's My Birthday!!!

Birthdays sure aren’t as fun as they used to be. Turning 45 is no where near as fun as turning, let’s say, 18!! When we were young, it was all about the “day”, now, we might celebrate a day early or a day late or a week late because of convenience.

Do you remember the anticipation that led up to the big day? Now-it is more a dreaded feeling of growing yet another year older. I do celebrate the fact that I do not “feel” like I am 45. I remember when my mother turned 45 and I thought that she was “really old”, I don’t feel like that “old person”. Don’t get me wrong, I still like birthdays I just wish I could conjure up the marvel and wonder of those birthdays gone by. Perhaps time skews our memory and grown-up birthdays are really more “cool” than we realize.

My favorite birthday gift this year (I hate to say that because everyone has been SO generous and I am truly grateful) is my digital picture frame. I downloaded many pictures that scroll through the frame. Whenever I go into the kitchen (where it is plugged in) I smile when I see a picture of the boys or of Kent or of my widow friends. I am blessed and though life has been less than what I would call “fair”, I still feel fortunate

On this birthday I reflect on my life as it is today. I have the love of family, friends and a very good man. I am, truly, surprised that I could be so fortunate. I also know that life can be very short and that I must claim the blessings granted to me. SO---today, July 30, 2007, I claim that I am a blessed individual—that life can, not only continue, but thrive after heartache…

This I know for sure…

TAGGED!

I have been tagged to share eight random facts about myself. This particular tag comes from my brother, Evan. I am then to tag 8 others to do the same. I read Evan’s list and got to #8---I have NO IDEA what it means, so my random facts will be on the less intelligent side.

Here are the rules:

1. Players start with 8 random facts about themselves.
2. Those who are tagged should post these rules and their eight random facts.
3. Players should tag eight other people and notify them they have been tagged.

Here are the random facts:

1. I am a TV junkie—I love it all, reality shows, mysteries, detective stories even a Lifetime movie or two (not a great fact for a teacher ‘cause I don’t like Discovery or any of those learnin’ channels).
2. I speed—too much. I don’t condone it for anyone else, but it is confession time.
3. I have a crush on James Spader (of Boston Legal – not sure why – he’s smart and witty I guess).
4. I despise “No Child Left Behind”. It has created an educational community more concerned with testing than with children. Someday soon we will all realize how ridiculous it is to believe EVERYONE learns EVERYTHING the exact same way in the exact same time frame. Wonder if the President will “get it” then?
5. I force myself to eat anything green because I know I should.
6. I have the attention span of a mite. I know this is a well known fact, but the game said “random” so….I included it.
7. I hate the outside of my house, but LOVE the inside.
8. I went on the Adkins Diet in high school with a friend of mine. We ate pork rinds by the bagful—seems soooo---yucky now.

So for my tag---I tag the following:

Trish, Andrea, Tanja, Pentha, Shelly, Chad, Joy and Fred

Vacation - the Summary!

I just returned from a vacation with the boys. It began in Cincinnati at the ordination of my sister-in-law, Julia. It was a beautiful ceremony that seemed to take me back to my spiritual roots and the legacy of the church I am so proud of growing up in and which continues to be such an important part of my life.

How, you ask, was I able to get two teenagers and two 11 year olds to sit through a two hour ordination? That’s easy—you bribe them with a week of amusement parks. Following the ordination my whole family met at Kings Island for the day. It was a nice time of being together. The boys and I stayed at Kings Island for another day and then, if that wasn’t enough, were off to Sandusky, Ohio to Cedar Point. Here is where the adventure began…

I “Pricelined” a hotel in Sandusky. We arrived late Sunday night and as we pulled into the parking lot I had a feeling this might not be good. Boy was I right. I checked-in anyway and headed to the room. It was a dump—and there was NO security. Anyone could get into the facility at anytime. Here I was a single mom with four kids with me and the possibility of having to stay in an insecure hotel. I immediately got a sick feeling in my stomach. I loaded everyone back into the car and started calling local hotels—with little luck. I finally got through to a Hampton Inn about 6 miles away that had a family suite available. Though VERY pricey, I decided peace of mind had NO price and we checked out of “America’s Best” and headed to a suite at the Hampton. The room was great – two king-size beds and one queen-size. I guess everything works out for the best because we were very comfortable with our lodging arrangements. I chalk this one up to one of those experiences I wish I never had to do alone, but dealt with it as I could.

Cedar Point was a blast. Each of my kids brought a friend with them on this trip, so I was the odd one out. I found that a little difficult, but didn’t let it stop me from spending time with the kids. Two days at Kings Island, two days at Cedar Point equals 38 hours of amusement park frenzy and one worn out mom who is glad to be....HOME.

This I know for sure...

"Life Sucks; Get a Helmet"

I am, by nature, optimistic. The last two years have made it more difficult to remain sanguine, but I have strived to remain hopeful. I do; however, have my moments. This quote by Dennis Leary was posted this week in a thread on an e-bulletin board that I frequent. I KNOW Dennis Leary is far from anyone’s idea of a role-model, however sometimes the profound comes from the profane. His quote simply states:

"Life sucks; get a helmet."

When I first read this quote I chuckled, but only for a moment, for I slowly began to realize that these words contain truth. We can’t change the fact that life isn’t always the way we dreamed it to be. We live in a world that brings heartache as well as joy. All of us are in need of some type of “life helmet”; something to protect our hearts and minds as we maneuver the course.

This “life helmet”, I suspect, is composed differently for everyone. Some need a helmet of pure hope or one of self-confidence. Others may need a helmet of faith or one of comfort. Most likely we wear “life helmets” that are a composite of many different protective qualities. Perhaps these helmets change, as we change or as our life situations change.

I must admit that at times I grow weary of donning the “helmet”. Occasionally I take it off thinking that I am handling things well and no longer need it; but then, unprotected, I get thumped by yet another unpleasant aspect of this life that has become mine. What happens next is that I sink into a pit of self-doubt and pity. This continues until I choose to reach down and place that dang helmet back where it belongs. It is then that I feel safe from those “life daggers” which are constantly hurled my direction. Yes, “Life sucks” (at times) and we all need to “get a helmet”.

This I know for sure…

Handling Disappointment Like a Grownup

Well, I don’t---handle disappointment like a grown-up that is. I pout, feel sorry for myself, make impulsive decisions in the midst of being upset and exhibit less than mature behaviors (attractive image isn’t it). HOWEVER, I am not sure I ever want to change. The flip-side to this character flaw is that I do tend to get over "stuff" quickly and move on, so people only have to deal with my lousy attitude for a short time. What scares me a bit is that the older I get the longer I hold onto resentment-just something else I find troubling. Don’t know why this qualifies as a legitimate blog post, but it does. Besides, seeing it in print somehow validates my attitude. So there, I will simply take my ball and--------------go home.

This I know for sure..

From the West Coast to the East!

I just returned from Boston. I had never been to the east coast and was looking forward to the trip – I was not disappointed. After arriving in Boston on Wednesday we were honored to meet two widow friends from the board. The extra treat was being able to see and tour Eric’s beautiful Colonial home located on the Atlantic Ocean. It is always amazing the instant bond that is created through our shared experiences.

Whales are truly magnificent animals! The highlight of the trip was whale watching in Stellwagen Bank National Marine Sanctuary. Even our guide could not contain her excitement with what we were able to see on our watch. She said we were lucky to have experienced so many whale behaviors in just one trip.

Top Ten Boston Style

10. Take the Freedom Trail—but I would walk one-way and ride the other.

9. East Side Grill in Plymouth---excellent seafood and great ambiance.

8. Quincy Market—downtown Boston—the hub of the city—lots of great entertainment and great food.

7. Faneuil Hall – another downtown Boston landmark that is fun.

6. Newport mansions – these are truly amazing homes—what was with this gilded age?

5. Newport sea drive – there are amazing homes and terrific harbor activities going on all the time.

4. Plimouth Plantation (yes, I spelled it correctly) – this is a MUST on the trip. Take a step back in time.

3. Plymouth Rock---a little bit under-whelming BUT, hello, it’s PLYMOUTH ROCK.

2. Lobster – here is the BEST tip for the east coast – walk, in fact RUN past any hoity-toity restaurant and proceed directly to the nearest ocean-front DIVE and order the lobster---it is an AMAZING dining experience.

1. WHALE WATCHING – it is by-far the best part of the trip.

It was a trip of a lifetime-- more pics, if you are interested

Flicker Photos

This I know for sure...

Survivors!

I get this Lou Tice inspirational email everyday--yesterday's installment had me thinking about what it means to SURVIVE! I not only want to survive--I want to thrive, but this post really spoke to me and I think it contains so much truth that I wanted to share it with all of you.

"Survivors"

When times get tough, some people fold and some are made even stronger. Did you ever wonder why some people seem to be able to handle life better than others? Everyone likes to think that they have what it takes to survive adversity and tough times, but when the chips are down, some folks definitely do better than others.

The real survivors in life (not the participants in the recent glut of "reality" survivor TV shows, that only seem to bring out the worst in human behavior) have developed personalities that allow them more options. They also have a strong and clear intention to survive, and to do it in good shape. When problems or setbacks occur, they don't waste time complaining and they don't dwell on the past or what they've lost. Instead, their energies are focused on getting things to turn out well.

Survivors believe that, no matter what happens to them, they are the ones who are in charge of their destinies. They don't get mad at the world for not treating them better, but they do have an extensive menu of behaviors they can choose from, depending on the situation. In other words, survivors are option thinkers, instead of black and white, either/or thinkers. They also have a wonderful ability to laugh at adversity because they know that even if they lose everything else, they will still have themselves.

People with survivor personalities can walk confidently into the unknown because they expect to find a way to make things work out. So, if you want to be a true survivor, try focusing your attention less on safety and security and more on developing positive beliefs and expectations.

Lou Tice
The Pacific Institute
www.thepacificinstitute.com

This I know for sure...

Life Lessons from Little League!

I had begun drafting a new blog entry entitled “Why I Hate Little League” when the events of the last few days caused me to pause and re-think my position. The original post summarized my feelings about my youngest sons little league experience this summer. He has been in, for lack of a better word, a batting slump since about the second game of the season. It has been discouraging for him, but he has never given up and has been at every game with an amazingly positive attitude. I, on the other hand, sit on the sidelines frustrated—upset at the coach for his lack of guidance and encouragement—upset with our circumstances because Chandler doesn’t have a father at home to help him with his game and just down-right ticked off at the fact that if Chandler doesn’t get to play much, how the heck is he supposed to improve? My oldest assures me this is exactly why “mommies should stay out of baseball—they just don’t get it”.

This past week my youngest son played in a baseball tournament. He only played 3 or 4 innings the entire week. I could tell he was down on himself before Friday’s game. Once he arrived at the game he showed true panache and cheered his team on. The team played well and ended up playing in the consolation game for third place. When the team began to win—my son’s lack of confidence seemed to fade as he placed all of his energy into cheering on his teammates. Though I was fuming on the sidelines at the injustice of the whole situation, I noticed his confidence actually increasing and he wasn’t even playing. How could that be? His attitude is a prime example that, for some reason, for boys—it is all about winning---to moms---it is about making sure our kids have a sense of self-worth. But what mommies don’t seem to get is that boys don’t obtain their self-esteem through being coddled or being “put in” just because—they get an amazing about of confidence simply being a part of a team.

Fast forward to Tuesday night’s game—two team members were unable to attend the game so Chandler was put in from the beginning of the game. When it came time for his first at bat---he straddled the plate with more confidence than I had seen in a long time. At the crack of his bat he hit a single RBI—the crowd roared—his teammates cheered as he ran to first base. He went three for four that evening and the coach awarded him the “game ball”. He was beaming with pride. On the ride home he called his grandparents, his uncle and my best friend’s husband to share his victory. Who knows if he will ever make another hit again this season, but he had his time in the spotlight; his moment of glory and the opportunity to feel a great sense of accomplishment that comes from truly doing a good job and being acknowledged for it.

I often learn from my children. They are not only a constant source of blessing, but also a basis of strength along the way. When I am in situations where I have a tendency to become frustrated, even discouraged, I need to remember the following lessons I have learned from my son this day:

• Attitude is a big part of being content where you are.
• Cheering on others can be as rewarding as succeeding yourself.
• Patience and persistence are the qualities to overcome a "slump".
• Sharing accomplishment with those you love simply makes the victory sweeter.
• Mommies can "get it"--- given time and swift kick in the "life lesson" pants.
  

This I know for sure.

It's the Journey That Matters in the End

I just returned from the funeral of a young man I have known since he was small, but had lost touch with the past few years. I, once again, put on that all too familiar “cloak of grief”, sucked it up and attended the service. Heartbroken, I observed his mother, knowing that her life will never be the same again. The family is strong and has a fervent faith, yet I recognized the questioning look on their faces--that need to know “why”, but also acknowledging that there would be no answer in this life.

Driving home, I began to reflect on my journey of almost two years. Working through grief is not linear, but is bumpy with many steps forward and a few steps back. Having been thrust into a life situation beyond my control, I have no idea where I would have been without my faith. The spiritual aspect of my life has never been about an “afterlife” or the promise of eternal life, but about the ability to find strength greater than my own to live each day with peace. For me, my faith affords me the ability to live this life with the contentment and hope a spiritual connection brings. Having this frame of mind has given me the courage to face grief head on, to work through the hard parts and struggle with each uncertainty. I have not put off the inevitable, nor have I run away from the sorrow. My faith seems to have translated into a more peaceful existence with what this world has brought my way.

I have found continued solace from my widow friends and the on-line support of the bulletin board. These folks represent a diversity of grief experiences. Some of them have been able to find contentment in their circumstance-may have even moved on and found new love. Some, after many years, still have yet to find a place of solace whether it involves another or not; but each has touched my life in significant ways. As for me, I am amazed at the capability that God has given us to love—amazed at the fact that we have big enough hearts to be assured that if we loved well once---we more than likely will again.

Where do I go from here? I have this sense of obligation to share what I have learned along the way with those who may be facing the darkest moment of their life. This is as much a part of my healing as anything else. So, selfish as it sounds---I NEED to, in some way, believe that my journey has not been in vane - that the pain has a purpose - that I have touched someone else and that it all means something in the end.

"It's the journey that matters in the end."

This I know for sure…

San Francisco Musings

San Francisco was a blast. What a beautiful, alive city! I don’t think I missed much. The Golden Gate Bridge was much more magnificent in real life. Lombard Street was a TRIP! Chinatown was alive and hopping even late into the night. Fisherman’s Warf provided the best seafood I have ever eaten in my life amid an ambience that only San Francisco can offer.

So here is my top 10 San Francisco-style:

1. The Golden Gate Bridge - nothing more to add
   
2. Napa Valley – esp. the Berringer and Sterling Wineries
3. Lombard Street – glad I wasn’t the one driving.
4. City Lights Bookstore – it was like stepping back in time
5. Winery Tour at Sterling Vineyard– producing and distributing of wine is fascinating
6. Ghirardelli Square – who can say no to chocolate
7. Fisherman’s Warf Part I – this is a cultural experience like no other.
8. Napping in a park next to the Bay
9. Fisherman’s Warf Part II – the absolute best Dungeness crab I have ever eaten.
10. Culinary Institute of America – this was, by far, the best dining experience. The food was amazing and watching the culinary experts prepare the food was captivating.

If you are interested here are some photos from the trip: http://www.flickr.com/photos/9319310@N05/

Take Offs and Landings!

I just returned from a wonderful holiday in San Francisco. I had never been there before and fell in love with the magical city immediately. Flying is NOT one of my preferred methods of transportation. However driving to California from Illinois was not an option and I am stubborn enough to not let a little fear keep me from enjoying life. I especially hate take-offs. It is the moment of adrenaline induced stress that doesn’t subside until we are in the air and flying safely. When taking off from the Bloomington airport I couldn’t help but make the connection to how my life has been the past two years. There have been too many “take-offs”—a time of high anxiety because I am unsure of what the future holds. Not unlike my flying experience, I feel anxious until I am securely comfortable with the “new normal” of the moment.

Landings are another story. I love landing. I like to hear the sound of the landing gear hitting the run way and the jerk of the breaks as the plane slows to a stop, safe and sound. In life I anticipate landings, but have had only a few lately. My life “landings” would incorporate the completion of buying and selling a house, becoming comfortable doing “couple things” by myself, remaining poised through Chad’s graduation and finishing my second master’s degree.

For the most part, I feel I am in mid-air flight. I have taken off safely (and proud of that), but I haven’t had many life “landings”. I look forward to those times when I am safety through what life has thrown in my direction and can reflect with integrity and honor.

This I know for sure...

A Father's Day Surprise

Sitting in the pew on Father’s Day took as much courage as I had left. My initial intention was to stay home, even run away for the day, but I wanted to pay tribute to my own father. During the service, fathers were honored reminding me of what we have lost in earthly terms. As our pastor began his message “What Makes a Man a Great Father?” my state of mind changed from one of sorrow and self-pity to one of gratefulness beyond reason. I was thankful, for I realized that my children and I were blessed to have had a father which met the requirements mentioned in the sermon:

A great father…

…has a relationship with God.

…is willing to obey God.

…directs their family in the way of the Lord.

…has a wise and giving spirit.

…lives in the presence of God’s blessing.

Abraham was referenced as a great example of a Godly father. Pastor Crump explained that though Abraham was a servant, he never was able to actually see all that God had promised him. Some of those blessings came after his death, just as Don’s. Don may not have been on earth to see his son donned with the title of “Prom King”: he may not have been able to see (in temporal terms) his son graduate from high school or hit his first homerun in little league; however, Don’s legacy, just like Abraham’s, will continue to live on through his children.

So I willingly celebrate Father’s Day. I honor my own father for being the Godly beacon to my brothers and me, but I also honor the father of my children for the lasting heritage of love he left for the boys to grasp and claim as their own living legacy. Though Don is not present in the earthly sense, he lives on in the lives of those he touched.

This I know for sure….

Divine Providence Via Earthly Forms

In the front yard of the house my husband and I called home for 10 years, sat the most magnificent birch tree you have ever seen. If you know anything about birch trees, you should know that they are a bit finicky, not terribly sturdy, but absolutely breathtaking when in full foliage. They are notable for their distinctive white-bark characteristic and easily identifiable. These trees normally have a short life (in tree years) lasting 15 to 20 years at best. This tree was planted by the original owners of the home and was well past its 15 year life span when we bought the house.

This special tree was one of the reasons we fell in love with the house in the first place. Many of our fondest family memories were photographed in front of this tree. The first day of school, homecoming, prom, school dances, birthdays, and visits by relatives were often chronicled with the birch tree background. Don took tremendous care of the tree pruning it when necessary and supplying the tender loving care such a special tree required.

After selling the house, the new owners apparently had an aversion to anything arborous. All of the grand trees landscaping the yard were relentlessly cut down, including the special birch tree in the front yard. It was heartbreaking to drive by the property and see it stripped of its distinctive backdrop. To be honest I have, most likely, driven by the house for the last time.

Before I continue this story I need to let it be known that I am a believer in divine providence; that Godly intervention does exist in our lives and when it is so blatantly presented to us we should claim it. I am claiming that the God who made me is also present in my everyday life; constantly providing courage and solace via earthly forms. Here is just such an example.

Tonight at my youngest son’s baseball game, I met the previous owners of our new home purchased after Don’s death. We introduced ourselves and began discussing the many life decisions which led to them to selling the house to me, then moving to Canada and now moving back to our small town. I narrated the story of how we came to buy the home from him. I complemented the beautiful landscaping of the yard and how it was a real selling point to us. I also explained the difficulty I experienced driving by our old home without the birch tree and the significance of the tree in our lives. My eldest son was present and mentioned the fact that his favorite part of our new home was the weeping willow tree in the backyard.

I noticed the gentleman getting a bit of a tear in his eye as he paused a moment and then explained, “I have to tell you the story of that weeping willow tree. I just realized that it may very well be the replacement tree for the one you lost.”

As he began his story I sensed that this was a difficult issue for him to discuss, yet he had an urgency to do so. It seems this man and his wife lost a child before they moved to the house I am currently living in. They planted a weeping willow tree in their yard as a remembrance. When they moved they carefully uprooted the tree and replanted it into what is now my backyard. With emotion the man said that he now believes that the weeping willow tree was a replacement for the birch tree we no longer could even visit.

I am constantly amazed at the providence of God—the way he holds us and endlessly provides us with avenues in which healing is possible. The boys and I have always acknowledged that this tree in our backyard was special. We had an impression of its importance in our lives long before we had this man’s story as an assurance. Since we have moved into this house the beautiful weeping willow tree has become the new photo backdrop which chronicles our lives. It will stand as a memorial of the past, as well as a symbol of hope the future will bring.

This I know for sure.

Milestones, Memories, Aging and Peace

I realize my age will be showing with this post, but I have lived these 44 years and am not sure I want to be any other age, so I don’t really mind. Bare with me here:

Flashback to 1980:
I was graduating from high school, ready to leave for college, in love and into music. The Doobie Brothers was my band of choice and specifically the album “Minute by Minute”. Michael McDonald was the lead singer with an undeniably original voice and when he would bang those piano keys he stole my heart. I probably played that album over and over and over until the grooves wore out.

Flash forward to June 2007:
I received a call from a good friend on Friday telling me he had tickets to a semi-private concert given in Missouri by Michael McDonald. Seems he had extra tickets and wanted to know if I wanted to go. Are you kidding? I couldn’t pass up this chance to see and perhaps meet my musical idol. I made arrangements for the kids and was off. A fabulous black tie reception kicked off the evening. Upon entering the small auditorium, my heart actually began to race like some capricious teenager. Michael was introduced and as he strolled across the stage I thought - WAIT—who is that though somewhat sexy---old, overweight guy? For a split second I must have had a very perplexed look on my face, but when the music began my heart melted. I immediately recognized that familiar Michael McDonald style and was caught up in it for the next two hours. The reality is that we all age, but our inner spirit and gifts remain the same.

He began the concert with a song I had never heard—yes, it surprised me that there was actually a Michael McDonald song I hadn’t heard. Apparently he has a Christmas album and recorded on it is a song entitled “Peace”. He opens his concert with this song as a prayer for our country. Here is the chorus—such beautiful prose.

Love won't compromise
It's a gift, it's a sacrifice
My soul renewed, and my heart released
In you I'll find my peace

It is amazing how music marks milestone and memories within our lives. My life is especially this way. I loved the television show “Ally McBeal” because when Ally faced different life situations or different people within her life she would hear a theme song. I find I can chronicle my life in a similar fashion. When I think of past memories specific songs come to mind and I hear them in my head, or when I hear certain songs they immediately bring back reminiscences. Music has the amazing ability to mark our life, to bridge the past to the present and to create within us memories to hold close to our hearts.

This I know for sure.

Recouperating, Television and Contentment

For the last three weeks I have been recuperating from surgery which means I have watched way too much television. What have I learned? I have discovered that if you watch more than 12 episodes of “What NOT to Wear” you don’t become more stylish---you become more critical. I have also watched so many installments of “Flip This House” that I am actually thinking I can do this myself—stop laughing. Of course I would need the help of my brother-in-law and the financial backing of Donald Trump. Another skill I have acquired is that I could tell you just what to do to get your house ready to sell. Are you aware of the number of shows on television dealing with this topic? I actually got more decorating tips watching these programs than I did watching decorating-themed shows.

This extensive television therapy has made me realize that we, as Americans, seem to be obsessed with making things “better” – our bodies, our stuff, our kids, our relationships. This is a good thing—to a point. But when do we choose to be content with what we have, who we are and what we may become? When do we, as Paul, find contentment no matter what: “…for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances.” (Philippians 4:11) Perhaps learning the meaning of contentment is what our journey here on earth is all about. I hope I am striving in the right direction. I long to embrace happiness and become content with not only who I am at this point, but with what I now possess and in the eternal plan for the future.

This I know for sure…