Sunday, November 11, 2007
This week's list of things I cannot grasp:
Why don't leaves all fall within a week so I'm not forced to rake for months and months and months?
Why is it enjoyable to play guitar and sing in front of 6 year olds, but the mere thought of doing the same in front of peers produces sheer panic?
Why don't guys just ask you out? Is there a time limit in determining if he's just not that into you? How long should you really have to flirt, friend and wonder?
And then, why would complete strangers feel it's acceptable to grab a girl's butt at a concert? Isn't there some middle ground?
Will I ever learn how to twirl a drumstick?
If I went to bed at 4a.m., completely exhausted, why would I still wake up at 6:30a.m.?
I've made cookies the exact same way for years, so why did the ones I intended to give away this week, turn out as hard as rocks?
Whose crazy idea was it to soak in a hot tub for over an hour, then think she could drive (fully alert at 1a.m.) to a friend's house 45 minutes away?
Why couldn't the Hawk's quarterback complete any passes for the entire 2nd half today? And, how did we possibly still win the game?
Why are people so drawn to eating meat off of sticks at such events? Pork on a stick, turkey on a stick, steak on a stick...what's the appeal there?
Will I ever be able to go to a Hawkeye football game or walk down Melrose Ave, and not attach these activities to the embarrassing crushes of my college years?
Who invented texting? And, why were they so motivated to establish this way of communication? What need did they think it would serve?
Why do people assume that I'm rebelling because I painted my fingernails black? If a LBD, or black sweater is acceptable, then why not have coordinating fingernails?
What exactly is in Queso Fundito, and why is it so addictive?
Will I ever be brave enough figure out how to replace the fill valve in my toilet? Is it possible that the importance of demonstrating one's independence is over-rated in this part of home ownership?
Ok. Wait. Maybe that's something I could grasp. Step one: stop writing about it and get off the couch! Here goes nothing!
Why is it enjoyable to play guitar and sing in front of 6 year olds, but the mere thought of doing the same in front of peers produces sheer panic?
Why don't guys just ask you out? Is there a time limit in determining if he's just not that into you? How long should you really have to flirt, friend and wonder?
And then, why would complete strangers feel it's acceptable to grab a girl's butt at a concert? Isn't there some middle ground?
Will I ever learn how to twirl a drumstick?
If I went to bed at 4a.m., completely exhausted, why would I still wake up at 6:30a.m.?
I've made cookies the exact same way for years, so why did the ones I intended to give away this week, turn out as hard as rocks?
Whose crazy idea was it to soak in a hot tub for over an hour, then think she could drive (fully alert at 1a.m.) to a friend's house 45 minutes away?
Why couldn't the Hawk's quarterback complete any passes for the entire 2nd half today? And, how did we possibly still win the game?
Why are people so drawn to eating meat off of sticks at such events? Pork on a stick, turkey on a stick, steak on a stick...what's the appeal there?
Will I ever be able to go to a Hawkeye football game or walk down Melrose Ave, and not attach these activities to the embarrassing crushes of my college years?
Who invented texting? And, why were they so motivated to establish this way of communication? What need did they think it would serve?
Why do people assume that I'm rebelling because I painted my fingernails black? If a LBD, or black sweater is acceptable, then why not have coordinating fingernails?
What exactly is in Queso Fundito, and why is it so addictive?
Will I ever be brave enough figure out how to replace the fill valve in my toilet? Is it possible that the importance of demonstrating one's independence is over-rated in this part of home ownership?
Ok. Wait. Maybe that's something I could grasp. Step one: stop writing about it and get off the couch! Here goes nothing!
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Why wait til Thanksgiving?
A friend posed this question last week; "What if the only things I had this morning were people, events, memories I voiced my gratitude for yesterday?"
Well, why miss this chance? So here's my short thankful list from this past week:
Family. Mine loves me unconditionally. What more could I ask for? They are supportive, imperfect, and I love them more than anything.
Friends. I don't know how I would've gotten through the last year without their support. They cheer me on and then challenge me and make me think about the hard stuff, too. They know how to make me laugh and help me see the humor in everything. They know when to let me cry, or they can even distract me out of a serious funk. I'm not sure why I'm so blessed to be so full in this area, and I couldn't begin to list individual people or events, but I know how they've changed me and/or supported me as I have begun to let go and live a little.
Communication. First of all, whether written or spoken, the one thing all of my friends and family have in common is that they know how to get it done. Some are straight talkers, some are more reserved or shy, some more open and growing, but I love learning from all of the amazing people in my life...here in the states and abroad.
Shelter. (above note reminded me of this one) Many cultures wouldn't allow or finances wouldn't support a female having a job and buying her own home. I have a simple home that's beginning to reflect me, with doors that lock, carpet and hardwood instead of dirt, a beautiful bed and really comfy furniture.
Plumbing. (again, Kenya, sorry--if you ever lived there, you'd understand) Not only do I get to avoid having to strattle a hole in the ground, but the toilet flushes, too! AND I can wash my hands, take a shower without a bucket, and brush my teeth with water straight out of a faucet. I still think about that when I brush my teeth every day. I absolutely love running water.
This is going to sound ridiculous now, after my basic needs stuff, but I do think it supports my passion: people. Knowing them and all their piccadillos, talking, meeting, sharing, crying, loving, laughing. This new member of my digital task-force is none other than my new enV. I got an incredible deal, won another phone in the process, and am going to try with all of my might to figure out how to do all of the funky stuff besides phone calls and texting. ;) But on that note, how amazing is it that I could talk to my next door neighbor, or get a text from my friend in Kenya watching the monkeys in the forest? Seriously, how unbelievable is that?!
I feel so full. I don't know why I'm so blessed, but today, at 10:23a.m., I see it. The sun is shining, but even if it wasn't, I think I could feel it. I'm just so grateful.
Well, why miss this chance? So here's my short thankful list from this past week:
Family. Mine loves me unconditionally. What more could I ask for? They are supportive, imperfect, and I love them more than anything.
Friends. I don't know how I would've gotten through the last year without their support. They cheer me on and then challenge me and make me think about the hard stuff, too. They know how to make me laugh and help me see the humor in everything. They know when to let me cry, or they can even distract me out of a serious funk. I'm not sure why I'm so blessed to be so full in this area, and I couldn't begin to list individual people or events, but I know how they've changed me and/or supported me as I have begun to let go and live a little.
Communication. First of all, whether written or spoken, the one thing all of my friends and family have in common is that they know how to get it done. Some are straight talkers, some are more reserved or shy, some more open and growing, but I love learning from all of the amazing people in my life...here in the states and abroad.
Shelter. (above note reminded me of this one) Many cultures wouldn't allow or finances wouldn't support a female having a job and buying her own home. I have a simple home that's beginning to reflect me, with doors that lock, carpet and hardwood instead of dirt, a beautiful bed and really comfy furniture.
Plumbing. (again, Kenya, sorry--if you ever lived there, you'd understand) Not only do I get to avoid having to strattle a hole in the ground, but the toilet flushes, too! AND I can wash my hands, take a shower without a bucket, and brush my teeth with water straight out of a faucet. I still think about that when I brush my teeth every day. I absolutely love running water.
This is going to sound ridiculous now, after my basic needs stuff, but I do think it supports my passion: people. Knowing them and all their piccadillos, talking, meeting, sharing, crying, loving, laughing. This new member of my digital task-force is none other than my new enV. I got an incredible deal, won another phone in the process, and am going to try with all of my might to figure out how to do all of the funky stuff besides phone calls and texting. ;) But on that note, how amazing is it that I could talk to my next door neighbor, or get a text from my friend in Kenya watching the monkeys in the forest? Seriously, how unbelievable is that?!
I feel so full. I don't know why I'm so blessed, but today, at 10:23a.m., I see it. The sun is shining, but even if it wasn't, I think I could feel it. I'm just so grateful.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Truly, One of My Best Nights
I love live music, but was not prepared to fall so hard for the band I met this past weekend. Midnight to Twelve rocked our fine city both Friday and Saturday night. I had listened to their cd quite a bit so I knew they were good, but they blew me away live.
After Friday's show, I was chatting with the lead singer, Jon, trying to figure out why I knew him. We finally figured out, of all places, that it was our church youth group! We traded memories of our summer trips, repairing homes in the South. "Remember trying to fix those roach-covered cabinets...build those bunk-beds...fix that toilet and ALL of that painting?" I hadn't thought about those friends and those days for a long time, so the trip down memory lane was a welcome one. All of the time on the town with old friends and new was non-stop fun, but the end of the weekend was unforgettable.
On Monday night, I was invited to a BBQ at the home of one of my new friends (and where M212 was staying). Of course, I had met the guys on Friday and talked with them Saturday, but was still a little surprised by their genuineness. These guys have the piercings, screams, tattoos and mo-hawks one would expect of a rock band, but they were so real. They spoke of favorite places, adorable children, past gigs and amazingly understanding wives and girlfriends. They even raved ridiculously over my chocolate chip cookies--toying with me about going on tour as their caterer...
After dinner the crowd thinned, and I was invited out to the bus for a little tour. The next few hours were a blur that started with my honest question of,
"How do you write...do you start with the music, a hook, a lyric...?"
"Oh, Pam. Great question."
Thus began hours of songwriting discussions with examples, acoustic jam sessions and thorough explanations of the combination of emotion, skill sets and honest passion. Band members would hop on and off the bus, joining us on occasion--adding lyrics and drums. Somewhere in there, Jay asked me to sing and soon Tami convinced me to play and sing something for the guys...and I actually did! Check! Huge fear conquered there for this living room musician. I can't express how unreal it was to look up from behind that (their beautiful) guitar to see them looking back at me, encouraging me, then leading me into attempting to write a song of my own.
Al (the bass player) started playing some simple chords I knew (more beautifully than I ever have ;), then said, "Just jump in when you feel it." My eyebrows flew up. "You can do it, no words, just sing." I looked up at Jon, "I know you hear it, Pam. It's right there, just let it out." How did he know? But, I'm so afraid that my emotions will explode right along with it if I let go...
The tears were already welling up, so after a few more bars of the soothing intro, Jon asked if I just wanted them to try it, and I was grateful for the merciful pass.
I only wish there would have been some way to record it. The music moved through my soul and I teared up again as I soaked in our intimate little candlelit setting.
Who gets to do this? Who listens to gifted musicians create right in front of you?
While they are clearly an indie/ alternative/rock band, the blend of a simple acoustic and their voices was overwhelmingly beautiful...just indescribable.
I finally made it to bed around 2 that night, and I've felt physical exhaustion ever since--but not in my spirit. The creative high that remains was well worth it. Maybe I'll rest this weekend...
After Friday's show, I was chatting with the lead singer, Jon, trying to figure out why I knew him. We finally figured out, of all places, that it was our church youth group! We traded memories of our summer trips, repairing homes in the South. "Remember trying to fix those roach-covered cabinets...build those bunk-beds...fix that toilet and ALL of that painting?" I hadn't thought about those friends and those days for a long time, so the trip down memory lane was a welcome one. All of the time on the town with old friends and new was non-stop fun, but the end of the weekend was unforgettable.
On Monday night, I was invited to a BBQ at the home of one of my new friends (and where M212 was staying). Of course, I had met the guys on Friday and talked with them Saturday, but was still a little surprised by their genuineness. These guys have the piercings, screams, tattoos and mo-hawks one would expect of a rock band, but they were so real. They spoke of favorite places, adorable children, past gigs and amazingly understanding wives and girlfriends. They even raved ridiculously over my chocolate chip cookies--toying with me about going on tour as their caterer...
After dinner the crowd thinned, and I was invited out to the bus for a little tour. The next few hours were a blur that started with my honest question of,
"How do you write...do you start with the music, a hook, a lyric...?"
"Oh, Pam. Great question."
Thus began hours of songwriting discussions with examples, acoustic jam sessions and thorough explanations of the combination of emotion, skill sets and honest passion. Band members would hop on and off the bus, joining us on occasion--adding lyrics and drums. Somewhere in there, Jay asked me to sing and soon Tami convinced me to play and sing something for the guys...and I actually did! Check! Huge fear conquered there for this living room musician. I can't express how unreal it was to look up from behind that (their beautiful) guitar to see them looking back at me, encouraging me, then leading me into attempting to write a song of my own.
Al (the bass player) started playing some simple chords I knew (more beautifully than I ever have ;), then said, "Just jump in when you feel it." My eyebrows flew up. "You can do it, no words, just sing." I looked up at Jon, "I know you hear it, Pam. It's right there, just let it out." How did he know? But, I'm so afraid that my emotions will explode right along with it if I let go...
The tears were already welling up, so after a few more bars of the soothing intro, Jon asked if I just wanted them to try it, and I was grateful for the merciful pass.
I only wish there would have been some way to record it. The music moved through my soul and I teared up again as I soaked in our intimate little candlelit setting.
Who gets to do this? Who listens to gifted musicians create right in front of you?
While they are clearly an indie/ alternative/rock band, the blend of a simple acoustic and their voices was overwhelmingly beautiful...just indescribable.
I finally made it to bed around 2 that night, and I've felt physical exhaustion ever since--but not in my spirit. The creative high that remains was well worth it. Maybe I'll rest this weekend...
Thursday, September 13, 2007
The Night I Sang in a Bar
Last weekend, some girlfriends and I went to a cozy little bar called R.G. Books. It's a classy place...tablecloths, leather sofas, full bookshelves lining the walls. This particular night they even had some live music--a talented guitarist with even better vocals. Anyone who can pull off Frank Sinatra and Ben Harper has my respect. So, I was enjoying a few with my friends, when I put in a request for a little KT Tunstall. He said he was too hoarse and couldn't do it justice, but that I could try it. Without thinking too much (and some additional coaxing from my entourage), I was up holding the mike. Suddenly conversations faded, and it was frighteningly hushed before I eased out the first line. By the chorus, I had caught my stride. I felt a surge of confidence when I glimpsed the surprised look on the guitarist's face. He caught me looking, we made eye-contact and he started singing back up for me. I'm sure the adrenaline was pumping, but I was shocked by how at ease I became. The only thing more surprising was when the crowd clapped and cheered so enthusiastically. My friends were encouraging as I settled back in with them, and the evening continued as relaxed as it began. I enjoyed more girl-talk and people watching before he nodded for me to join him for one more song.I still had a smile on my face as I slipped into bed. One more event I never thought I could do has been checked off my list. Who knows what unexpected adventure this next week will bring...
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
I'm Holding Him in my Heart
Remembering
I heard somewhere that grief doesn't necessarily follow the calendar, but my heart is swelling today. Again, on a day where it feels like it would be easier to have rain, it's sunnier than I'd like. I guess, in another way, it reminds me to live and celebrate his life--as much as I'd like to crawl into a cave and swim around in the sadness.
So instead, with my head filled with pictures and memories of him rubbing his head back and forth, his cough, his voice, his long lashes, his smell, his soft wavy hair, his little yawn, and his indescribable eyes, I'm going to take a little memory walk of my own. Today it is with gratitude (and a touch of selfish sadness) that I wrap those thoughts in my heart and take them for a hike around a lake that I know Will would've loved fishing with me.
Knowing Will for his lifetime has changed mine, and for that I am so blessed.
I heard somewhere that grief doesn't necessarily follow the calendar, but my heart is swelling today. Again, on a day where it feels like it would be easier to have rain, it's sunnier than I'd like. I guess, in another way, it reminds me to live and celebrate his life--as much as I'd like to crawl into a cave and swim around in the sadness.
So instead, with my head filled with pictures and memories of him rubbing his head back and forth, his cough, his voice, his long lashes, his smell, his soft wavy hair, his little yawn, and his indescribable eyes, I'm going to take a little memory walk of my own. Today it is with gratitude (and a touch of selfish sadness) that I wrap those thoughts in my heart and take them for a hike around a lake that I know Will would've loved fishing with me.
Knowing Will for his lifetime has changed mine, and for that I am so blessed.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Feeling the Ache
I feel the need to express my thoughts with more clarity tonight, but my brain is more content to be swirling with warm memories of my nephew, Will. Honestly, I almost don't want to let myself 'go there.' I just want to stay with the warm thoughts of holding him, bathing him, staring into his eyes...I promised myself that I would take tomorrow to do just that. Pour over pictures and write out the details of my memories so I can re-live the joy again. The joy of knowing a little boy who changed my view of everything.
So, tomorrow I will celebrate and remember and sing. Tonight, I want to let the walls down so I can feel everything...to kind of wade through and acknowledge some of the ache so I can more fully feel the warmth of the joy and beauty, as well.
For weeks, these tiny snippets of this evening, last year have been flashing in my mind. I've been avoiding it. I look for a second, then try to distract myself--afraid I'll lose my composure out in public. Afraid I'll remember all too clearly; the shock, the cries and groans and petitions made, burying my face in the carpet, begging for it not to be true, hours passing with no news, running out of questions and words for God, the phone ringing again. Most frequently, I remember hearing myself cry out as I hung up the phone and collapsed onto the tile.
Looking back, I can see there must have been some imperceptible showering of grace in the hours that followed, because I was able to compose the following email a few hours later.
Friends,
I've been trying to write this message, and can't seem to start. I
hope you will all forgive me for the method in which I need to share
this news. I physically can't say the words, so today I'm glad for
email.
My nephew, Will, passed away early this morning.
I just can't believe it. I thought he was doing so well. My brother
was with him at the heart and kidney unit getting prepped for a heart
cath that was supposed to happen today. His next heart surgery was
fast approaching, so they were getting all the necessary tests under
way. But, this morning, his heart stopped and they couldn't get it
going again. After four months and three days of fighting, his heart
just stopped.
Many of you know that I was so blessed about a month ago to spend
a week with my family in D.C. My time spent there with Will and Ella
was more meaningful than I could have imagined.
Today, I just keep thanking God that I was able to have that time.
Time to help bathe him.
Time to clean his bottles.
Time to read books.
Time to see him snuggle with the bear I had made.
Time to take pictures (that annoying camera-happy AuntPammy).
Time to ride along on a journey to the hospital for a doctor's appointment--tubes,
oxygen, heart monitor and all .
Time to pat him up on his shoulder, just the way he liked (one rhythmic finger),
when he needed to be comforted.
Time to stare into his eyes and have him stare back at me.
Time to hold him high on my shoulder and feel his heartbeat and his chest rise with every breath.
Knowing Will blessed me.
Somehow, when Will looked at me, watched me walk by him or try to comfort him,
I felt like he really saw me. Will heard me talk to him and pray for
him. Sing to him and cry with him.
I don't know when my sobbing will stop. Or when it's going to hit
me even harder. Maybe it's the lack of sleep talking, or maybe I'll
change my mind, but today I'm just sad, not angry, that he had to
leave so soon. Selfishly, I want him with us, but after watching how
much work his tiny body had to do to keep that blood flowing, I almost
understand. Deep down, I know that my time with Will taught me so
much more than I could have taught him. We shared much more than I
could share in an email.
So, I'll close with this: It occurred to me (around 4a.m.) that my
prayers for Will and Ella have changed a lot over the past 9 months.
"Just let the twins be born. I just want to meet them." "Please,
God, let me hold them." "Please, let me know them." And although,
Will didn't make it last night, I can see that God answered all of
those requests: I met the twins shortly after they were born on May
9th, 2006.
I held Ella a few hours later, and I held Will 3 months after that.
I stayed with them for 7 full days...never enough time, but long enough
to never want to leave.
It was long enough to know what Ella's cries
mean and how she likes to be held and consoled.
Long enough to learn how to "read" Will's heart monitor and hear it going off in my sleep.
Long enough to stare into Will's eyes and instantly feel known by him.
Long enough to fall in love with them.
Four months ago today, we learned his name before he went in for his
first heart surgery.
William Addison. Don't you just love it?
Iron Will. Marathon Runner. My tiny little Superhero. And, my
favorite, "God's Will."
And he is God's Will, so I have to trust that this is God's will.
Friends, please pray for Mike, Stacy & Ella. I can only begin to
imagine their grief. Thanks so much for listening.
So, tomorrow I will celebrate and remember and sing. Tonight, I want to let the walls down so I can feel everything...to kind of wade through and acknowledge some of the ache so I can more fully feel the warmth of the joy and beauty, as well.
For weeks, these tiny snippets of this evening, last year have been flashing in my mind. I've been avoiding it. I look for a second, then try to distract myself--afraid I'll lose my composure out in public. Afraid I'll remember all too clearly; the shock, the cries and groans and petitions made, burying my face in the carpet, begging for it not to be true, hours passing with no news, running out of questions and words for God, the phone ringing again. Most frequently, I remember hearing myself cry out as I hung up the phone and collapsed onto the tile.
Looking back, I can see there must have been some imperceptible showering of grace in the hours that followed, because I was able to compose the following email a few hours later.
Friends,
I've been trying to write this message, and can't seem to start. I
hope you will all forgive me for the method in which I need to share
this news. I physically can't say the words, so today I'm glad for
email.
My nephew, Will, passed away early this morning.
I just can't believe it. I thought he was doing so well. My brother
was with him at the heart and kidney unit getting prepped for a heart
cath that was supposed to happen today. His next heart surgery was
fast approaching, so they were getting all the necessary tests under
way. But, this morning, his heart stopped and they couldn't get it
going again. After four months and three days of fighting, his heart
just stopped.
Many of you know that I was so blessed about a month ago to spend
a week with my family in D.C. My time spent there with Will and Ella
was more meaningful than I could have imagined.
Today, I just keep thanking God that I was able to have that time.
Time to help bathe him.
Time to clean his bottles.
Time to read books.
Time to see him snuggle with the bear I had made.
Time to take pictures (that annoying camera-happy AuntPammy).
Time to ride along on a journey to the hospital for a doctor's appointment--tubes,
oxygen, heart monitor and all .
Time to pat him up on his shoulder, just the way he liked (one rhythmic finger),
when he needed to be comforted.
Time to stare into his eyes and have him stare back at me.
Time to hold him high on my shoulder and feel his heartbeat and his chest rise with every breath.
Knowing Will blessed me.
Somehow, when Will looked at me, watched me walk by him or try to comfort him,
I felt like he really saw me. Will heard me talk to him and pray for
him. Sing to him and cry with him.
I don't know when my sobbing will stop. Or when it's going to hit
me even harder. Maybe it's the lack of sleep talking, or maybe I'll
change my mind, but today I'm just sad, not angry, that he had to
leave so soon. Selfishly, I want him with us, but after watching how
much work his tiny body had to do to keep that blood flowing, I almost
understand. Deep down, I know that my time with Will taught me so
much more than I could have taught him. We shared much more than I
could share in an email.
So, I'll close with this: It occurred to me (around 4a.m.) that my
prayers for Will and Ella have changed a lot over the past 9 months.
"Just let the twins be born. I just want to meet them." "Please,
God, let me hold them." "Please, let me know them." And although,
Will didn't make it last night, I can see that God answered all of
those requests: I met the twins shortly after they were born on May
9th, 2006.
I held Ella a few hours later, and I held Will 3 months after that.
I stayed with them for 7 full days...never enough time, but long enough
to never want to leave.
It was long enough to know what Ella's cries
mean and how she likes to be held and consoled.
Long enough to learn how to "read" Will's heart monitor and hear it going off in my sleep.
Long enough to stare into Will's eyes and instantly feel known by him.
Long enough to fall in love with them.
Four months ago today, we learned his name before he went in for his
first heart surgery.
William Addison. Don't you just love it?
Iron Will. Marathon Runner. My tiny little Superhero. And, my
favorite, "God's Will."
And he is God's Will, so I have to trust that this is God's will.
Friends, please pray for Mike, Stacy & Ella. I can only begin to
imagine their grief. Thanks so much for listening.
Saturday, September 1, 2007
My Day with Ben
I had a long list of things to accomplish today--many of them enjoyable, but made so much better by some alone time with my man, Ben. All right, his Innocent Criminals came along, too. Thanks to my wonderful iPod, we weeded my tomato and flower gardens, walked a few miles, ran some errands around town, went on a search for some favorite wines, drove to dinner with my parents, then washed my car. His new Lifeline went everywhere I did, and I already have a few new faves: In the Colors, Paris Sunrise #7 and Lifeline. They haven't quite surpassed my standing favorites: Steal My Kisses, Diamonds on the Inside or Waiting on an Angel, but the new collection is brilliant, soulful, funky and made me even dance a bit among the weeds.
Friday, August 31, 2007
Summer Highlights part 3
Home Mid-July
Why do I dread high school reunions? Is it facing the regrets of the past, or fearing that I've not made enough of my life so far? Maybe it's a little of each? For most of my high school years, I just wanted to blend in, or ideally, have some magical skill of disappearing when faced with yet another embarrassing moment. Still, some close friends had convinced me that attending the 15 year was a good idea. In retrospect, they were right, but that weekend in July, I was a little overwhelmed.
Friday night, I was to drive into town to meet the girls after a fun week with my nephews. We had been fishing, relaxing, playing catch, baking, taking in some baseball games and shooting hoops at the park. In fact, we were just leaving Mill Creek, loading the trunk with our rods and basketball, when I locked my keys in my trunk. I've never done that before, but I guess it never would seem like an ideal time. The boys were troopers as we waited for their dad to come and rescue us. Unfortunately, I didn't allow for the delay, so when I showed up to meet my girlfriends from high school, I was wearing 3 day old shorts (with just a few smears of worm guts) and a shirt with a fresh dusting of flour and cocoa from my zucchini bread bake-fest. Needless to say, I felt a little less than my most attractive when I met the girls at an outdoor concert back home.
I drove them to the next spot which, un-beknownst to me was not a girls-night-out-for-dinner. It was another drinking establishment with live outdoor music. The unexpected turned out to be quite enjoyable, and one of the highlights was re-acquainting myself with a friend I hadn't seen for 15 years and receiving a tutorial on how to properly flirt. Funny, memorable...and a great way to pass the time when your the D.D. Actually, one of our entourage had invited other members of our graduating class to join us downtown, so I tried to muster up enough confidence in my fishy and frizzy state to attempt intelligent conversation with those I hadn't seen in years.
Saturday, I woke up with a renewed desire to look my best. Suddenly, my closet full of clothes held nothing that suited the event. I went shopping for something that looked a little more presentable (and clean), then showered and primped while I waited for my college roommate/friend from high school to arrive from Illinois. The butterflies at that point were ridiculous.
To my surprise, I really enjoyed mingling with acquaintances from the past. Most conversations were brief and breezy, completely painless and, dare I say, fun! Hilarious moments were had, new memories were made and some even got a good laugh out of watching me attempt to apply my new flirting skills (learned the previous night) on my fifth grade crush. Without going into too much detail, let me just say that the past 22 years definitely improved the man. It probably helped that he was a wine-maker from California, so there was less fear of making a fool of myself--I would never have to see him again, right? I was completely out of my league, but enjoying every minute of it...taking my friends up on the dare to let loose a bit. The girls were an incredible cheering section into the wee hours, and one of my favorite blessings was staying up until 5a.m., laughing and reviewing the evenings events with my college roomie.
Imagine my shock when Mr. Fifth Grade Crush called the next day. Seeing him pull into my own driveway was surreal, but after I survived the first 5 minutes of jitters the rest of the afternoon unfolded as with an old friend.
The weekend's resulting joy was completely worth the risk. I was reminded that these people never really knew the 'me' I am now. I've only spent the last five years being willing to examine and present who I am and not who I think others want me to be. Knowing others and feeling known by them can stir more fear than joy, so I used to avoid it altogether. Now, more than ever, I know that I need to be willing to risk a little rejection if I want to be known. Today I think both the joy and fear are completely necessary...and even good for me! So, my lesson learned, fifteen years later? I'm realizing that I don't exactly blend in, and I think I'm finally comfortable with that.
Why do I dread high school reunions? Is it facing the regrets of the past, or fearing that I've not made enough of my life so far? Maybe it's a little of each? For most of my high school years, I just wanted to blend in, or ideally, have some magical skill of disappearing when faced with yet another embarrassing moment. Still, some close friends had convinced me that attending the 15 year was a good idea. In retrospect, they were right, but that weekend in July, I was a little overwhelmed.
Friday night, I was to drive into town to meet the girls after a fun week with my nephews. We had been fishing, relaxing, playing catch, baking, taking in some baseball games and shooting hoops at the park. In fact, we were just leaving Mill Creek, loading the trunk with our rods and basketball, when I locked my keys in my trunk. I've never done that before, but I guess it never would seem like an ideal time. The boys were troopers as we waited for their dad to come and rescue us. Unfortunately, I didn't allow for the delay, so when I showed up to meet my girlfriends from high school, I was wearing 3 day old shorts (with just a few smears of worm guts) and a shirt with a fresh dusting of flour and cocoa from my zucchini bread bake-fest. Needless to say, I felt a little less than my most attractive when I met the girls at an outdoor concert back home.
I drove them to the next spot which, un-beknownst to me was not a girls-night-out-for-dinner. It was another drinking establishment with live outdoor music. The unexpected turned out to be quite enjoyable, and one of the highlights was re-acquainting myself with a friend I hadn't seen for 15 years and receiving a tutorial on how to properly flirt. Funny, memorable...and a great way to pass the time when your the D.D. Actually, one of our entourage had invited other members of our graduating class to join us downtown, so I tried to muster up enough confidence in my fishy and frizzy state to attempt intelligent conversation with those I hadn't seen in years.
Saturday, I woke up with a renewed desire to look my best. Suddenly, my closet full of clothes held nothing that suited the event. I went shopping for something that looked a little more presentable (and clean), then showered and primped while I waited for my college roommate/friend from high school to arrive from Illinois. The butterflies at that point were ridiculous.
To my surprise, I really enjoyed mingling with acquaintances from the past. Most conversations were brief and breezy, completely painless and, dare I say, fun! Hilarious moments were had, new memories were made and some even got a good laugh out of watching me attempt to apply my new flirting skills (learned the previous night) on my fifth grade crush. Without going into too much detail, let me just say that the past 22 years definitely improved the man. It probably helped that he was a wine-maker from California, so there was less fear of making a fool of myself--I would never have to see him again, right? I was completely out of my league, but enjoying every minute of it...taking my friends up on the dare to let loose a bit. The girls were an incredible cheering section into the wee hours, and one of my favorite blessings was staying up until 5a.m., laughing and reviewing the evenings events with my college roomie.
Imagine my shock when Mr. Fifth Grade Crush called the next day. Seeing him pull into my own driveway was surreal, but after I survived the first 5 minutes of jitters the rest of the afternoon unfolded as with an old friend.
The weekend's resulting joy was completely worth the risk. I was reminded that these people never really knew the 'me' I am now. I've only spent the last five years being willing to examine and present who I am and not who I think others want me to be. Knowing others and feeling known by them can stir more fear than joy, so I used to avoid it altogether. Now, more than ever, I know that I need to be willing to risk a little rejection if I want to be known. Today I think both the joy and fear are completely necessary...and even good for me! So, my lesson learned, fifteen years later? I'm realizing that I don't exactly blend in, and I think I'm finally comfortable with that.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
A year ago today...
I don't have a lot of vivid memories of certain dates or events, but this-- I hope to never forget.
A year ago today, I remember waking up, immediately aware that I had limited hours until I needed to catch my flight back home. I quickly got packed up and ready, then went upstairs to see if anyone was awake. Mike was at the computer in the kitchen, Stacy & Ella were snoozing and Will was kicking around in his crib. I quietly greeted Mike, then tip-toed into the living room to gaze at the strong little guy. He stared back, and I can't begin to describe the look in his big, beautiful eyes--even a year later. But thankfully, it is still etched in my memory.
Will's monitor was beeping, so I was checking the numbers, connections and tubes to make sure everything looked right. It was, but he was kind of rubbing his head back and forth--looking a little restless. He started making his little cough/throat clearing noise as I stood there. I tried to comfort him by patting his tiny shoulder with two fingers, like my brother had shown me earlier in the week. His little whimper continued, so I looked through the doorway into the kitchen, hoping Mike would offer some wisdom on what to try next. He looked up from the computer and said, "Why don't you try holding him up on your shoulder?"
"Really? Do you need to help me, or can I just..."
"Go ahead, just be careful with the tubes."
I was so nervous. What if I upset Will more? What if he cries and wakes up Ella? I really want to hold him, but will he be comfortable? I don't want to make his breathing more labored...
My nervousness was met with complete peace as soon as I felt his tiny body against my shoulder. I carefully walked to the couch, and settled us in for a snuggle. He stopped coughing and whimpering as I softly patted his back and soon, fell asleep right there on my shoulder. I gently rested my cheek against his chest so I could feel every breath and and heartbeat. The emotions I still feel today are indescribable.
I wrote the following email to some of my dearest friends that evening.
I couldn't sleep, so I was clicking through some pictures of my
nieces and nephews from this past week. I wanted to send some
to you all, but just realized that I don't know how to shrink them
small enough to send in an email.
I just realized that three months ago, May 14, 2006,
I was saying goodbye to my 5-day-old niece & nephew at Children's
Hospital in D.C.. Unsure of what God was doing with Will, I walked to
his bedside, and tried to say goodbye before I made the trip back to
Iowa. I stood in the CICU with his mom and I attempted to sing a
prayer over him, but I couldn't sing more than a line. She then asked
me to pray for him with her, and again, I was speechless. I couldn't
really explain it then, and it's still tough now, but it wasn't a
sad/scared for him cry, as much as an overwhelming awe.
He was less than 48 hours out of his heart surgery and I gazed at
his little body seemingly draped with tubes and wires. Stacy moved a
covering so I could peer through the clear dressing on his chest. I
wasn't prepared for the sight of that strong heart beating in his tiny
chest. It felt holy...if that makes any sense. Even this past week,
I had moments that I felt like I was walking on sacred ground with
these two babes. I don't know how else to explain it.
My brother caught one of these moments on film this morning.
I had asked him to take a picture of Will sleeping on my shoulder, so I
could see his face and remember the moment. By the time he changed
the camera angle to include me, the tears were streaming down my face.
Oh, God, You answer! So often, in ways I couldn't imagine. Don't
let me forget! Don't let me forget the feeling of holding this
precious boy I was so afraid I'd never meet. I was so afraid! I
cried out to You, yelled, begged, "Just let me meet my nephew! Let me
hold my niece. Please!" I begged, I got angry, and I ran. And yet,
You chased me. I could feel You, but I didn't want to look.
And holding him this morning. His head bobbing a bit with every
breath. Feeling his chest against my cheek. I borrowed a little of
his strength and finally looked back at You. Can I really believe You
are who You say You are...that You can do what You say You can do?
Today, I believe. I'm in. I see You and You've won my heart.
A year ago today, I remember waking up, immediately aware that I had limited hours until I needed to catch my flight back home. I quickly got packed up and ready, then went upstairs to see if anyone was awake. Mike was at the computer in the kitchen, Stacy & Ella were snoozing and Will was kicking around in his crib. I quietly greeted Mike, then tip-toed into the living room to gaze at the strong little guy. He stared back, and I can't begin to describe the look in his big, beautiful eyes--even a year later. But thankfully, it is still etched in my memory.
Will's monitor was beeping, so I was checking the numbers, connections and tubes to make sure everything looked right. It was, but he was kind of rubbing his head back and forth--looking a little restless. He started making his little cough/throat clearing noise as I stood there. I tried to comfort him by patting his tiny shoulder with two fingers, like my brother had shown me earlier in the week. His little whimper continued, so I looked through the doorway into the kitchen, hoping Mike would offer some wisdom on what to try next. He looked up from the computer and said, "Why don't you try holding him up on your shoulder?"
"Really? Do you need to help me, or can I just..."
"Go ahead, just be careful with the tubes."
I was so nervous. What if I upset Will more? What if he cries and wakes up Ella? I really want to hold him, but will he be comfortable? I don't want to make his breathing more labored...
My nervousness was met with complete peace as soon as I felt his tiny body against my shoulder. I carefully walked to the couch, and settled us in for a snuggle. He stopped coughing and whimpering as I softly patted his back and soon, fell asleep right there on my shoulder. I gently rested my cheek against his chest so I could feel every breath and and heartbeat. The emotions I still feel today are indescribable.
I wrote the following email to some of my dearest friends that evening.
I couldn't sleep, so I was clicking through some pictures of my
nieces and nephews from this past week. I wanted to send some
to you all, but just realized that I don't know how to shrink them
small enough to send in an email.
I just realized that three months ago, May 14, 2006,
I was saying goodbye to my 5-day-old niece & nephew at Children's
Hospital in D.C.. Unsure of what God was doing with Will, I walked to
his bedside, and tried to say goodbye before I made the trip back to
Iowa. I stood in the CICU with his mom and I attempted to sing a
prayer over him, but I couldn't sing more than a line. She then asked
me to pray for him with her, and again, I was speechless. I couldn't
really explain it then, and it's still tough now, but it wasn't a
sad/scared for him cry, as much as an overwhelming awe.
He was less than 48 hours out of his heart surgery and I gazed at
his little body seemingly draped with tubes and wires. Stacy moved a
covering so I could peer through the clear dressing on his chest. I
wasn't prepared for the sight of that strong heart beating in his tiny
chest. It felt holy...if that makes any sense. Even this past week,
I had moments that I felt like I was walking on sacred ground with
these two babes. I don't know how else to explain it.
My brother caught one of these moments on film this morning.
I had asked him to take a picture of Will sleeping on my shoulder, so I
could see his face and remember the moment. By the time he changed
the camera angle to include me, the tears were streaming down my face.
Oh, God, You answer! So often, in ways I couldn't imagine. Don't
let me forget! Don't let me forget the feeling of holding this
precious boy I was so afraid I'd never meet. I was so afraid! I
cried out to You, yelled, begged, "Just let me meet my nephew! Let me
hold my niece. Please!" I begged, I got angry, and I ran. And yet,
You chased me. I could feel You, but I didn't want to look.
And holding him this morning. His head bobbing a bit with every
breath. Feeling his chest against my cheek. I borrowed a little of
his strength and finally looked back at You. Can I really believe You
are who You say You are...that You can do what You say You can do?
Today, I believe. I'm in. I see You and You've won my heart.
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Jason Gray Unplugged
My friend and sister-in-law, Neva, introduced me to Jason Gray's music about a year ago. It was one of those "my sister's friend's husband took guitar lessons from this guy, you should listen to his c.d." Somehow she knew I'd love it, too, so Neva passed it on to me. So, when I saw that he was playing at a small church in town, I adjusted my schedule so I could attend it this evening.
First impressions; great rhythm, solid guitarist.
Most inspiring: his honest sharing of a genuine challenge he's faced with every day.
It honestly challenged me to offer my weaknesses, and not just my strengths. It sounds simple enough, but I know me. Give this people-pleaser a choice, and I'll serve in my strengths so I look good or at the very least, so I don't need to rely on anyone else (especially the big guy).
Most unexpected and enjoyable: hearing a little U2 and Tom Petty mixed in with some of his original songs. I also liked that the people at the church where he performed weren't hiding the fact that they knew the words to these non-churchy songs. He noted it. Very funny.
Lasting impression: genuine guy, emotional singer, talented guitarist.
His rhythm and acoustic skills inspire me to re-string my own guitar! Maybe if I buy the expensive strings I'll sound just like him...
First impressions; great rhythm, solid guitarist.
Most inspiring: his honest sharing of a genuine challenge he's faced with every day.
It honestly challenged me to offer my weaknesses, and not just my strengths. It sounds simple enough, but I know me. Give this people-pleaser a choice, and I'll serve in my strengths so I look good or at the very least, so I don't need to rely on anyone else (especially the big guy).
Most unexpected and enjoyable: hearing a little U2 and Tom Petty mixed in with some of his original songs. I also liked that the people at the church where he performed weren't hiding the fact that they knew the words to these non-churchy songs. He noted it. Very funny.
Lasting impression: genuine guy, emotional singer, talented guitarist.
His rhythm and acoustic skills inspire me to re-string my own guitar! Maybe if I buy the expensive strings I'll sound just like him...
Saturday, August 11, 2007
This week, last year...
I just stumbled on a journal entry from this week, last August. I'm glad I have a record of what I was honestly thinking back then, but I'm a little embarrassed by my bold, trusting statements. I guess I'm a little more jaded now. Anyway, I wish I would have known Aug.8, what I know now. But maybe I don't, if that makes any sense.
Are you ready for my big news of the summer? I was able to hold Will
for the first time this morning! :o) :o) :o)
Will's home. Praise God.
Will's growing. Praise God.
Will's cooing and crying. Praise God.
Will eats from a bottle sometimes. Praise God.
and my favorite so far...
Will took an hour long nap on my shoulder this morning and his little
oxygen alarm never went off once! Praise God.
What else should I say? Ella looks like a porcelain doll (seriously,
she does...I'm not just saying that because she's my niece). My first
day's impression is also that she's kind of particular about how exactly
she likes to be comforted. Let's just say I take notes when mom & dad
hold her and then try to copy their vast array of new moves.
And I thought I already had some! I'm learning---
hopefully quickly, for her sake.
I have to just pinch myself sometimes. 3 months ago, I wouldn't have
imagined all of this. Listening to my niece & nephew this morning
reminded me that God hears the cries of our hearts! I know He heard
the cries of mine this spring. And although Will has a long road to
go, I'm reminded that God is in the business of miracles!
My first cuddle with Will, August 8, 2006
Are you ready for my big news of the summer? I was able to hold Will
for the first time this morning! :o) :o) :o)
Will's home. Praise God.
Will's growing. Praise God.
Will's cooing and crying. Praise God.
Will eats from a bottle sometimes. Praise God.
and my favorite so far...
Will took an hour long nap on my shoulder this morning and his little
oxygen alarm never went off once! Praise God.
What else should I say? Ella looks like a porcelain doll (seriously,
she does...I'm not just saying that because she's my niece). My first
day's impression is also that she's kind of particular about how exactly
she likes to be comforted. Let's just say I take notes when mom & dad
hold her and then try to copy their vast array of new moves.
And I thought I already had some! I'm learning---
hopefully quickly, for her sake.
I have to just pinch myself sometimes. 3 months ago, I wouldn't have
imagined all of this. Listening to my niece & nephew this morning
reminded me that God hears the cries of our hearts! I know He heard
the cries of mine this spring. And although Will has a long road to
go, I'm reminded that God is in the business of miracles!
My first cuddle with Will, August 8, 2006
Summer Highlights part 2
Denver, Colorado Late June
For years, my next-door-neighbor, Jodie, and I have considered traveling together to visit our respective friends in Denver. With my school year and Master's behind me and a seemingly endless summer ahead, we decided that this was our year. While we were considering the 12 hour drive and what that means for gas money these days, a mutual friend suggested that we take the train. Brilliant idea. We planned to travel overnight, sleep on the train and arrive bright-eyed and bushy-tailed in Denver the next morning.
Well, it was almost that, and definitely worth the adventure, but there was a little less peace and quiet for sleeping than I had imagined. And the rocking certainly made using the restroom an adventure. It was not like what I had seen in the movies, but it did deliver us safely to the lovely Union Station in downtown Denver. While we waited for our rides, I bid farewell to my neighbor there at the station and promised to meet her in that same spot the following Sunday at 8p.m. It felt kind of strange when she left with her friends, but I didn't want to admit it. I mean, I'm 32 years old. I can handle myself in the big city, right? My ride came soon after.
It was an eventful week with Tammi, Todd and their little man Jack. I had the pleasure of walking through their dailies along side of them, learning what their lives are like now, with a little baby around. Tam was my pacer a few years back when we hiked the Grand Canyon from rim to rim. I'm not sure why--maybe it's the travel memories, but I somehow feel more adventurous when I'm around her. I also love being with her because it's a reminder of all we've accomplished together, as youth leaders and friends, and also how much we've grown over the years.
On this trip, Tam and I also enjoyed some beautiful hikes and we were even able to take Jack on his first trek into the mountains. Although he fell asleep on our way back down the trail, I could tell that he's going to grow into an adventurer, like his mom. After our hike around Dillon that afternoon, we stopped off at an outlet mall for a little retail therapy. We were resting on a bench outside, feeding Jack, people watching and enjoying the view of the mountains when I thought, Wow--that lady looks just like my neighbor, Jodie! At that moment, Jodie looked over at me and we screeeeamed. Poor Jack. We really scared him, but oh, my gosh! That is my neighbor! I don't even see her at the grocery store on the next block, and I see her in this town outside of Denver...what are the chances?! We quickly introduced our Denver friends to each other, then carried on with the shopping, and soon, our separate vacations.
I realized something that day: Jodie is a lot more than my neighbor. Seeing Jodie was like seeing a family member. I was immediately all relaxed and re-energized at the same time. She knows all of the good and bad stuff, and still chats with me over the fence or across the couch. Whether it's work stress or recent date highlights, she's one of my biggest cheerleaders. I'm still not exactly sure when she shifted from my next-door-neighbor to my friend, but I'm so thankful that God led me to buy a house next door to her.
I am so blessed to have great friends, both far and near. But, I probably shouldn't need to go shopping outside of Denver to realize that.
Friday, August 10, 2007
Fun Mail
I don't look at mail the same anymore.
Too many bills and political pamphlets have spoiled the run-and-get-the-mail game. What ever happened to that excitement I had running out to the mailbox as a child? I mean, how often did I really even get mail back then, anyway? Even so, I'd skip out to the mailbox on Cavendish, day after day. Now it's just no-fun mail.
But then tonight...I felt that old familiar flutter in my stomach as I pulled into my driveway, spying something boxy leaning against my front step. I accelerated to pull the car in the garage (narrowly avoiding kissing the door jamb with my side mirror) a.s.a.p. so I could hurry up and gather said surprise.
I was on my cell phone, and unfortunately for my friend, quite distracted. I rushed to unlock the front door so I could retrieve the package.
Wow, I bet it has been here since the mail came this morning.
"Yeah, mm-hmm."
It's been waiting here all day for me.
"Oh, really?"
Hmmm. Heavier than I thought.
What is it?
Who's it from?
Awww.
To: Aunt Pammy
From: Tiny E
I melted right there at the door.
Oh, right, I'm on the phone.
I tried to listen.
Be attentive. You can open it as soon as you're done.
Waiting. Predicting.
It's heavier than the charger I left behind.
Pay attention.
I can't wait.
My friend let me off the hook once I read the To/From aloud to her.
"Well, what's in the package?"
Rrrrrip.
"Aww. My Tiny E. knows what I love."
And, there, lovingly sandwiched along my phone charger, was my favorite Trader Joe's Organic Tomato & Roasted Red Pepper Soup and T.J.'s sandwich-completing Hot & Sweet Mustard.
Mmmm. Hope I can wait until tomorrow to crack into it. Lunch will be good! Then again, maybe a sandwich for breakfast would be acceptable...
Too many bills and political pamphlets have spoiled the run-and-get-the-mail game. What ever happened to that excitement I had running out to the mailbox as a child? I mean, how often did I really even get mail back then, anyway? Even so, I'd skip out to the mailbox on Cavendish, day after day. Now it's just no-fun mail.
But then tonight...I felt that old familiar flutter in my stomach as I pulled into my driveway, spying something boxy leaning against my front step. I accelerated to pull the car in the garage (narrowly avoiding kissing the door jamb with my side mirror) a.s.a.p. so I could hurry up and gather said surprise.
I was on my cell phone, and unfortunately for my friend, quite distracted. I rushed to unlock the front door so I could retrieve the package.
Wow, I bet it has been here since the mail came this morning.
"Yeah, mm-hmm."
It's been waiting here all day for me.
"Oh, really?"
Hmmm. Heavier than I thought.
What is it?
Who's it from?
Awww.
To: Aunt Pammy
From: Tiny E
I melted right there at the door.
Oh, right, I'm on the phone.
I tried to listen.
Be attentive. You can open it as soon as you're done.
Waiting. Predicting.
It's heavier than the charger I left behind.
Pay attention.
I can't wait.
My friend let me off the hook once I read the To/From aloud to her.
"Well, what's in the package?"
Rrrrrip.
"Aww. My Tiny E. knows what I love."
And, there, lovingly sandwiched along my phone charger, was my favorite Trader Joe's Organic Tomato & Roasted Red Pepper Soup and T.J.'s sandwich-completing Hot & Sweet Mustard.
Mmmm. Hope I can wait until tomorrow to crack into it. Lunch will be good! Then again, maybe a sandwich for breakfast would be acceptable...
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
Summer Highlights
Family Vacation at Lake Sissabagama Early June
I enjoyed the ride up with Mom and Dad on Saturday so I could soak up the prime fishing and relaxation of the first 24 hours of the week. Thanks to a few snow make-up days, I had to work the Monday of our trip, but I returned late Monday night. Some thought I was crazy for taking on the extra driving, but for me, this trip is my favorite time of year--easily better than any holiday.
Something happens to me there; looking out over the lake, walking down the winding road to the cranberry bogs, soaking my toes at the end of the dock, quiet canoe trips on the calm waters, random conversations in the boat, the wind in my hair as we cruise across the lake and then breathing it all in as my only responsibility is concentrating on the little tugs I feel on my line so I know exactly when to set the hook. The bass, the pike and all of the pan fish in between were memorable (especially when Jake or Caleb caught them), and of course, tasty! Pete even trusts me to fillet the big fish now--I may take a while, but I aim for No Meat Left Behind. Unless there was rain, each night closed with chats and/or snacks around a campfire, looking out over the water. I adored sleeping on Mom and Dad's closed in porch, 12 feet off the water...being lulled to sleep by the lapping waves and the wind in the pines. The only thing better was being persuaded by my nephews to stay in their cabin.
Our tradition started years ago when they were too young to be left alone, and I'd stay over so Pete could go out on the first early morning Muskie run. Now they're old enough to handle it without me, but old habits are hard to break. We have a tradition of piling on their twin beds (shoved together, and taking turns sleeping on the crack) and staying up late, snickering over bodily noises (on their part, of course) and re-telling funny stories and memories of past vacations. Each year I'm afraid they'll be too old for such silliness, so I've learned to cherish each late-night invite, as if it's our last.
And finally, Caleb became this summer's lure-making-master of bass fishing. I was honored to receive one of the first edition lures, and am proud to say it rallied an eager, young bass on the edge of Hathaway Bay. It was also extra special because I reeled it in Friday night, right before Pete and I pulled his new Lund off the water. There's nothing like catching the last fish of the trip.
Ahh, but there's more memories to be made...next July's trip can't come soon enough.
I enjoyed the ride up with Mom and Dad on Saturday so I could soak up the prime fishing and relaxation of the first 24 hours of the week. Thanks to a few snow make-up days, I had to work the Monday of our trip, but I returned late Monday night. Some thought I was crazy for taking on the extra driving, but for me, this trip is my favorite time of year--easily better than any holiday.
Something happens to me there; looking out over the lake, walking down the winding road to the cranberry bogs, soaking my toes at the end of the dock, quiet canoe trips on the calm waters, random conversations in the boat, the wind in my hair as we cruise across the lake and then breathing it all in as my only responsibility is concentrating on the little tugs I feel on my line so I know exactly when to set the hook. The bass, the pike and all of the pan fish in between were memorable (especially when Jake or Caleb caught them), and of course, tasty! Pete even trusts me to fillet the big fish now--I may take a while, but I aim for No Meat Left Behind. Unless there was rain, each night closed with chats and/or snacks around a campfire, looking out over the water. I adored sleeping on Mom and Dad's closed in porch, 12 feet off the water...being lulled to sleep by the lapping waves and the wind in the pines. The only thing better was being persuaded by my nephews to stay in their cabin.
Our tradition started years ago when they were too young to be left alone, and I'd stay over so Pete could go out on the first early morning Muskie run. Now they're old enough to handle it without me, but old habits are hard to break. We have a tradition of piling on their twin beds (shoved together, and taking turns sleeping on the crack) and staying up late, snickering over bodily noises (on their part, of course) and re-telling funny stories and memories of past vacations. Each year I'm afraid they'll be too old for such silliness, so I've learned to cherish each late-night invite, as if it's our last.
And finally, Caleb became this summer's lure-making-master of bass fishing. I was honored to receive one of the first edition lures, and am proud to say it rallied an eager, young bass on the edge of Hathaway Bay. It was also extra special because I reeled it in Friday night, right before Pete and I pulled his new Lund off the water. There's nothing like catching the last fish of the trip.
Ahh, but there's more memories to be made...next July's trip can't come soon enough.
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
My Wish List
I have wished for a lot of things.
I wish I could be effortlessly healthy.
I wish I could travel more.
I wish I was more confident.
I wish I painted more often.
I wish I just had more time.
I wish I could be a better friend--my family and friends are amazing, and they deserve it.
I had one of those light-bulb moments last night. I decided to try to stop using the word wish. I'm going to work really hard to change the "wish list" into a "to-do list". No time-lines, but a chance to be more purposeful about who I want to be--so I don't look back at my 30's with the same regret of passivity I had in my 20's.
My New To-do List
Make exercise a habit. I always feel better, so it should be as non-negotiable as brushing my teeth.
Start a savings account just for travel. Right now, I'm thinking something with sand and waves.
Shut down the negative thoughts as soon as they enter, both professionally and personally.
Set up a corner of my guest room so it's ready to paint, whenever I have half an hour, or half a day.
Remember Africa. When faced with the option of task vs. people, always choose people...or find a way to have community while accomplishing a task.
Call people back sooner. Listen more carefully. Remember. Always be real.
I wish I could be effortlessly healthy.
I wish I could travel more.
I wish I was more confident.
I wish I painted more often.
I wish I just had more time.
I wish I could be a better friend--my family and friends are amazing, and they deserve it.
I had one of those light-bulb moments last night. I decided to try to stop using the word wish. I'm going to work really hard to change the "wish list" into a "to-do list". No time-lines, but a chance to be more purposeful about who I want to be--so I don't look back at my 30's with the same regret of passivity I had in my 20's.
My New To-do List
Make exercise a habit. I always feel better, so it should be as non-negotiable as brushing my teeth.
Start a savings account just for travel. Right now, I'm thinking something with sand and waves.
Shut down the negative thoughts as soon as they enter, both professionally and personally.
Set up a corner of my guest room so it's ready to paint, whenever I have half an hour, or half a day.
Remember Africa. When faced with the option of task vs. people, always choose people...or find a way to have community while accomplishing a task.
Call people back sooner. Listen more carefully. Remember. Always be real.
Monday, August 6, 2007
Back in the Saddle
I feel like it has been entirely too long since I've written.
What's been holding me back? Why does the idea of recording my journey seem so daunting? After spending last week out east, I was reminded that for me, clarity comes through communicating, or at least attempting to untangle my thoughts. Sometimes, it's more difficult, more painful, more personal than I'd like, but that's what I need. So far, the pain has always been worth the risk. So, here I am. Committing, once again, to record my adventures in hopes of making some sense of them along the way.
What's been holding me back? Why does the idea of recording my journey seem so daunting? After spending last week out east, I was reminded that for me, clarity comes through communicating, or at least attempting to untangle my thoughts. Sometimes, it's more difficult, more painful, more personal than I'd like, but that's what I need. So far, the pain has always been worth the risk. So, here I am. Committing, once again, to record my adventures in hopes of making some sense of them along the way.
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Happy Birthday!
One year ago, yesterday, I met and immediately fell in love with these tiny people.
I love being an Aunt!
Saturday, April 14, 2007
A Letter to My Niece
Okay, Ella, you know how you want something...like right now you really want avocados or Cheerios? There's a feeling that kind of takes over you when you really want your way, or a cool toy that someone else is holding. And by the time you can read this letter yourself, you'll really want to go to your friend's house, buy some cool jeans, a jacket and maybe even more shoes.
Honestly, this past year I've struggled with my "really wants" and completely giving them over to God. There are things that I thought I had all figured out, but I'm realizing that I was just beginning to understand. Ella, I can want something with every ounce in me and I can kick and scream and yell, or come up with a very convincing argument and tell God exactly what I want and He doesn't always give it to me...kind of like your mom and dad can't give you everything you want all the time. Hear me out on this, Ella, it does not mean that they don't love us--that's a lie. They know that giving you what you want and holding some things back is best, and it's teaching you. Even though you may not understand why they do or don't do things, they want what's best for you.
I think our lives with God are kind of like that, too. He wants what's best for you. He wants you to know Him and love Him so deeply that sometimes, the circumstances He allows are just the thing that will draw you closer to Him. People might say that a lot--kind of lightly, and you might not feel that it's true, and that is totally okay. You will even have days when you're mad about something or you don't understand why a bad thing happened, and God wants you to tell him that, too. He's big enough, Ella. He's so very big enough to handle all of the questions that you have for Him.
So, today on this big day, my prayer for you is that your life with God is filled with courage, patience, strength, peace and love.
I pray that you grow brave enough to ask God tough questions, and patient in waiting to understand the answers.
I pray you grow strong enough to hold on to what you know is true when the waves roll in, and calm enough to hear Him comforting you, leading you.
I pray that, every day, you're aware of how deeply you are loved by your family.
And finally, I pray that your eyes are wide open to God's immeasurable love for you, as He leads you through the many adventures that lie ahead.
With love, love and more love from Iowa,
AuntPammy
Honestly, this past year I've struggled with my "really wants" and completely giving them over to God. There are things that I thought I had all figured out, but I'm realizing that I was just beginning to understand. Ella, I can want something with every ounce in me and I can kick and scream and yell, or come up with a very convincing argument and tell God exactly what I want and He doesn't always give it to me...kind of like your mom and dad can't give you everything you want all the time. Hear me out on this, Ella, it does not mean that they don't love us--that's a lie. They know that giving you what you want and holding some things back is best, and it's teaching you. Even though you may not understand why they do or don't do things, they want what's best for you.
I think our lives with God are kind of like that, too. He wants what's best for you. He wants you to know Him and love Him so deeply that sometimes, the circumstances He allows are just the thing that will draw you closer to Him. People might say that a lot--kind of lightly, and you might not feel that it's true, and that is totally okay. You will even have days when you're mad about something or you don't understand why a bad thing happened, and God wants you to tell him that, too. He's big enough, Ella. He's so very big enough to handle all of the questions that you have for Him.
So, today on this big day, my prayer for you is that your life with God is filled with courage, patience, strength, peace and love.
I pray that you grow brave enough to ask God tough questions, and patient in waiting to understand the answers.
I pray you grow strong enough to hold on to what you know is true when the waves roll in, and calm enough to hear Him comforting you, leading you.
I pray that, every day, you're aware of how deeply you are loved by your family.
And finally, I pray that your eyes are wide open to God's immeasurable love for you, as He leads you through the many adventures that lie ahead.
With love, love and more love from Iowa,
AuntPammy
Sunday, March 25, 2007
Spring Break Adventures of '07
Spring Break 2007 kicked off with an abnormal amount of basketball viewing. I thoroughly enjoyed watching 2 of my former first graders hoist up the trophy and celebrate their win at the High School Boys Basketball State Championship. I'm sure if I would have caught the unedited TV news interviews, I would have heard them thanking their first grade teacher for shooting hoops with them during recess 9 years ago. Instead, I settled for memories of days when they were much smaller than I, sitting in our miniscule, orange chairs around the reading table.
Next, I enjoyed a few days of much needed walks and lunches, catching up with friends. Mid-week, Gina, Tate & I set off on a 72 hour adventure to The Windy City. Having them along certainly livened up the drive, then we went our separate ways once we hit Naperville--she, to her sister's, and me, a visit with friends. It was a whirlwind of dining and shopping, so fun was certainly had by my ATM card. If I had to pick, the evening out with 2 of my college roommates was the city's highlight.
Chicago was great, but tonight, I must also sing the praises of my fine city because I just had one of the most perfect days.
While the grass often looks greener in someone else's state, tonight I am thankful to have mine. I love having so many genuine, intelligent and hilarious friends with whom to journey. While we may not be widely known as a community that oozes cultural opportunities, tonight was one of definite fun, with, at least, the hint of them. We thoroughly enjoyed dinner at Biaggi's, then were off to the Theatre to hear the Symphony and Concert Chorale and cheer on Danette.
This evening's highlights:
the first taste of a bottle of Malbec, and the glasses that followed
the ambiance at Biaggi's (my favorite Italian restaurant)
my friends: Adele, Danette and Nan
our knowledgeable (and ruggedly handsome) waiter, Adam
my meal: Lobster and Shrimp Stuffed Trigger Fish with Steamed Vegetables
the laughter
the dessert
the real cappuccino
the season-ticket-holding woman next to me, nodding off and almost snoring during the Symphony
the fact that I did not break out into an uncontrollable giggling fit...this time (different story)
So, here's the cultural run-down:
wine- can't remember where it was made, but I'm pretty sure that it counts as culture #1
Biaggi's Italian (#2) Restaurant
Adele-from South Africa #3, returning to Kenya in a few weeks #4
the few words we exchanged in Swahili #5
Nan-is part Swedish, too #I'm kidding
Cantique de Jean Racine, Op.. 11, the second song, sung in French #6
Adam-#again, kidding...I just thought he was worth mentioning again.
...sung in Latin #7
...sung in another language #8
You get the idea.
I am so blessed to have friends that make every day events and special occasions equally adventurous. And often times, hilarious.
Next, I enjoyed a few days of much needed walks and lunches, catching up with friends. Mid-week, Gina, Tate & I set off on a 72 hour adventure to The Windy City. Having them along certainly livened up the drive, then we went our separate ways once we hit Naperville--she, to her sister's, and me, a visit with friends. It was a whirlwind of dining and shopping, so fun was certainly had by my ATM card. If I had to pick, the evening out with 2 of my college roommates was the city's highlight.
Chicago was great, but tonight, I must also sing the praises of my fine city because I just had one of the most perfect days.
While the grass often looks greener in someone else's state, tonight I am thankful to have mine. I love having so many genuine, intelligent and hilarious friends with whom to journey. While we may not be widely known as a community that oozes cultural opportunities, tonight was one of definite fun, with, at least, the hint of them. We thoroughly enjoyed dinner at Biaggi's, then were off to the Theatre to hear the Symphony and Concert Chorale and cheer on Danette.
This evening's highlights:
the first taste of a bottle of Malbec, and the glasses that followed
the ambiance at Biaggi's (my favorite Italian restaurant)
my friends: Adele, Danette and Nan
our knowledgeable (and ruggedly handsome) waiter, Adam
my meal: Lobster and Shrimp Stuffed Trigger Fish with Steamed Vegetables
the laughter
the dessert
the real cappuccino
the season-ticket-holding woman next to me, nodding off and almost snoring during the Symphony
the fact that I did not break out into an uncontrollable giggling fit...this time (different story)
So, here's the cultural run-down:
wine- can't remember where it was made, but I'm pretty sure that it counts as culture #1
Biaggi's Italian (#2) Restaurant
Adele-from South Africa #3, returning to Kenya in a few weeks #4
the few words we exchanged in Swahili #5
Nan-is part Swedish, too #I'm kidding
Cantique de Jean Racine, Op.. 11, the second song, sung in French #6
Adam-#again, kidding...I just thought he was worth mentioning again.
...sung in Latin #7
...sung in another language #8
You get the idea.
I am so blessed to have friends that make every day events and special occasions equally adventurous. And often times, hilarious.
Wednesday, March 7, 2007
What? Too early to drink?
It had been a loooong day with the kids at school. We had hit indoor recess #30, due to weeks of windchills too far below zero.
Literally, that's thirty consecutive times we had hopefully checked the
weather website, seeking some miraculous shift so we could play in
that field of pristine snow outside our classroom windows. No luck. I'll
spare you all of the details of recent weeks, but suffice it to say
that kids puke, sneeze measurable lengths of snot, and pick noses much too frequently.
By 4p.m., I was cranky. Just wanting to be home. When one of
Our City's Finest pulled me over for an expired license
plate/tag/sticker. Come on. I mean, come ON. I put a smile on and
tried to be kind, apologetic, everything I thought he wanted.
THEN, he started asking me exactly where I was coming from...Had I
made any stops after school?
"Yes, the grocery store."
Had I purchased then drank any alcohol? Have I stopped for a drink?
I'm thinking, buddy, I was driving amazingly well, I've only lost my
mind a bit lately and forgotten to renew the stinking plates! It came
out more like,
"Oh my goodness, I am so sorry I was forgetful. Now I know my
immediate plans will be to go downtown and take care of this."
insert apologetic smile
"Okay, okay, but you smell like you've been drinking."
Honestly, there's nothing in the car, I did not purchase anything, (or
drink from a flask behind my desk?).
He's STILL questioning me, thinking of asking me out of the car, when
alas, he spots the Purel on the passenger seat. "Oh, have you used that lately?"
"Oh, yeah. Puking, snot-filled first graders have fueled an obsession
with it." Forming young minds here, educating the future of our
country, dodging puke, while you're pulling over hard-working,
completely frazzled TEACHERS that could use a BREAK!!
He takes my info back to his car, then returns with a ticket. A
stinking ninety dollar ticket! The kid looked like he had just
graduated from the academy and he's actually grinning as he hands me
the ticket, blah, blah, blah and continues with the chit chat! What?
You still want to chat?!!
Fuming. I am fa-uming.
So, two and a half hours later and I'm desperately trying to calm
myself and rip the tape out of my head that keeps replaying what I
should have said to him, how I shouldn't have forgotten, so I could
have avoided the whole ordeal...but I have the money to pay it so it's
not a big deal...but it's such a waste of $90. I was going crazy.
What was the one thing that calmed me? The thing that stirred
my heart to all things silver-lined and warm-fuzzy?
The Flickr window on my favorite blog.
Could my niece & nephews be any more adorable? These are thoughts & pictures worth dwelling on, lingering over, cooing at and getting all sniffly and misty-eyed.
Now, please pass the Purel.
Literally, that's thirty consecutive times we had hopefully checked the
weather website, seeking some miraculous shift so we could play in
that field of pristine snow outside our classroom windows. No luck. I'll
spare you all of the details of recent weeks, but suffice it to say
that kids puke, sneeze measurable lengths of snot, and pick noses much too frequently.
By 4p.m., I was cranky. Just wanting to be home. When one of
Our City's Finest pulled me over for an expired license
plate/tag/sticker. Come on. I mean, come ON. I put a smile on and
tried to be kind, apologetic, everything I thought he wanted.
THEN, he started asking me exactly where I was coming from...Had I
made any stops after school?
"Yes, the grocery store."
Had I purchased then drank any alcohol? Have I stopped for a drink?
I'm thinking, buddy, I was driving amazingly well, I've only lost my
mind a bit lately and forgotten to renew the stinking plates! It came
out more like,
"Oh my goodness, I am so sorry I was forgetful. Now I know my
immediate plans will be to go downtown and take care of this."
insert apologetic smile
"Okay, okay, but you smell like you've been drinking."
Honestly, there's nothing in the car, I did not purchase anything, (or
drink from a flask behind my desk?).
He's STILL questioning me, thinking of asking me out of the car, when
alas, he spots the Purel on the passenger seat. "Oh, have you used that lately?"
"Oh, yeah. Puking, snot-filled first graders have fueled an obsession
with it." Forming young minds here, educating the future of our
country, dodging puke, while you're pulling over hard-working,
completely frazzled TEACHERS that could use a BREAK!!
He takes my info back to his car, then returns with a ticket. A
stinking ninety dollar ticket! The kid looked like he had just
graduated from the academy and he's actually grinning as he hands me
the ticket, blah, blah, blah and continues with the chit chat! What?
You still want to chat?!!
Fuming. I am fa-uming.
So, two and a half hours later and I'm desperately trying to calm
myself and rip the tape out of my head that keeps replaying what I
should have said to him, how I shouldn't have forgotten, so I could
have avoided the whole ordeal...but I have the money to pay it so it's
not a big deal...but it's such a waste of $90. I was going crazy.
What was the one thing that calmed me? The thing that stirred
my heart to all things silver-lined and warm-fuzzy?
The Flickr window on my favorite blog.
Could my niece & nephews be any more adorable? These are thoughts & pictures worth dwelling on, lingering over, cooing at and getting all sniffly and misty-eyed.
Now, please pass the Purel.
Sunday, March 4, 2007
The Journey I've Been Given
“I decided to stop focusing on what was taken away, and contemplate what I’ve been given.”
Okay, maybe not a direct quote, but that’s the way I heard it. Being grateful isn’t exactly a new thought, so why, on this day, did it grip me so hard?
I’ve dwelled in this depth of sadness for so long that I’ve almost made a home here. I’ve logged hours on this couch. Lying in bed, unable to sleep. Listening to music, but for months, unable to sing. Is it time to move out, or do I really want to stay here, listening to my same sad thoughts? But “focus on what you’ve been given” sounds so ‘self-help’ tonight, and yet that quote continues to roll around in my head. Really...will acknowledging all that I’ve been given take away the hurt? If I focus on the experiences, moments with loved ones, circumstances I’ve been given, am I just avoiding the ache, only to have it well up in me again? Or. Will it teach me? Will it mold my thoughts? Can simply acknowledging these events help? Or will voicing my gratitude change the tape in my head?
I’ve had a life filled with hilarious and embarrassing moments, not previously recorded...this would be a perfect outlet for those unexpected and often unbelievable life experiences. I could be so light and breezy with my writing if I left out the last year or so. But that would only be part of my journey. That would be leaving out my highest high and lowest low. Maybe in time, it will be easier to share that, too.
For now, I think I’ll just start writing and stop thinking so much. Maybe if I just start recording my journey, I’ll connect the random thoughts in my brain to learn the lessons and see the blessings a little sooner. A grown-up’s dot-to-dot, created just for me. I could use a little direction.
I guess, ideally, this safari (Swahili for journey) might not be so random, but the name myeasycomfortableandcompletelyfiguredoutjourney.blogspot.com was already taken.
Okay, maybe not a direct quote, but that’s the way I heard it. Being grateful isn’t exactly a new thought, so why, on this day, did it grip me so hard?
I’ve dwelled in this depth of sadness for so long that I’ve almost made a home here. I’ve logged hours on this couch. Lying in bed, unable to sleep. Listening to music, but for months, unable to sing. Is it time to move out, or do I really want to stay here, listening to my same sad thoughts? But “focus on what you’ve been given” sounds so ‘self-help’ tonight, and yet that quote continues to roll around in my head. Really...will acknowledging all that I’ve been given take away the hurt? If I focus on the experiences, moments with loved ones, circumstances I’ve been given, am I just avoiding the ache, only to have it well up in me again? Or. Will it teach me? Will it mold my thoughts? Can simply acknowledging these events help? Or will voicing my gratitude change the tape in my head?
I’ve had a life filled with hilarious and embarrassing moments, not previously recorded...this would be a perfect outlet for those unexpected and often unbelievable life experiences. I could be so light and breezy with my writing if I left out the last year or so. But that would only be part of my journey. That would be leaving out my highest high and lowest low. Maybe in time, it will be easier to share that, too.
For now, I think I’ll just start writing and stop thinking so much. Maybe if I just start recording my journey, I’ll connect the random thoughts in my brain to learn the lessons and see the blessings a little sooner. A grown-up’s dot-to-dot, created just for me. I could use a little direction.
I guess, ideally, this safari (Swahili for journey) might not be so random, but the name myeasycomfortableandcompletelyfiguredoutjourney.blogspot.com was already taken.
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