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.

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.

My last, unforgettable cuddle, August 14, 2006.

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...

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

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.

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...

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.

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.

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.