I had written two things a while ago that have stayed in my head...not as a regret but more for "gosh, I hope the wrong person doesn't think that was about them".
Here are the two things I wrote (taken from "To Have Cancer Means..." posted in February):
To have cancer means...
Saying goodbye to used-to-be-friends-but-apparently-we-never-were-or-you-would-be-with-me-now-but-thank-you-for-the-card-six-months-ago...
And...
To have cancer means...
Listening as others compare their illnesses to yours, oh, and I do hope Dr. Scholl helps your corn...
So, these two things have been weighing on my mind since I wrote them, well, a few days after I wrote them. I wondered if a group of people in particular, if still reading the blog, would think I was referring to them. I wasn't. I was only referring to one of them.
I thought we were close. We had shared secrets, belly laughs, ideas, dreams, and stories about our children and husbands. We had let each other inside the inner sanctum of secrecy...sharing intimate details of wounded hearts, passions, and tears that come from that deep, deep place only a select few even know you have... She was my friend... She was my friend and I just knew that she would visit me, call me, email me, sit with me, cry with me...and she didn't. At first, I was so incredibly hurt and in disbelief, really, because we had been so close. I think I also held a bit of a grudge, as well. It's easier and less painful for me to be angry than for me to allow my heart to hurt.
I am passed that now. Cancer changes everything and some people. Not just the people who have it but the people who are exposed to it via family member or friend. Some people don't want to be around cancer. I get that. Some people force themselves to "be there", despite not wanting to. And some people, I would imagine since it takes all kinds, just aren't affected by someone else having cancer. So, which one is she? I don't know...but I dare say there are some people who are very, very tired of cancer and what it has done to their family, or to them, even, and they just walk away from it, or from who has it.
Like I said, I am passed wondering or even worrying about why she didn't stand by me, or with me, but she didn't...and I am okay with that. Everybody has a story. Everybody has their own personal hell which they are living through at some point in their life. Maybe our "hells" happened at the same time... Maybe not... It just doesn't matter to me anymore. My thing is that I would hate it if somebody else thought I was referring to them when I wasn't. That's how it is when you are hurting inside...you say things that can be misconstrued and that can hurt right back... I don't want to do that.
So, to you, and especially to those from "the group", who did send cards six to eight months ago, thank you. I appreciate the time you took to bother. Sending cards has an "old school" ring to it, anymore, but I did truly appreciate every card I received...which is why I have kept each and every one since the first one came. Old school or not, it is, and was, nice to be remembered.
As for my friend...I hope you are well.
On to the next post, catty as it was...Having cancer means listening as others compare their illnesses to yours, oh, and I do hope Dr. Scholl helps your corn. Well, I still mean it. Ironically, the person that was intended for never reads my blog because I never gave them the address. If they are reading it, they have never commented publicly or privately about it, so I just assume they aren't following. Anyway, the desperation to have something horrible is exhausting to those of us who actually have something.
Still catty... Oh, well. Anyway, if you thought it was about you, it wasn't...the person I was referring to could read this and still not ever think it is about them. LOL Maybe they thought if they complained about all that ails them, I would feel better about my dire circumstance. Um...no. They have always been like that...bound and determined to have something wrong. Well, trust me, you do have something wrong. LOL
Babs asked me one time if something I had written was about her and I just kind of laughed because she had not even entered my mind as I wrote whatever it was. But isn't that how it is? We hear or read or see something that has nothing to do with us but yet, we convince ourselves that it is about us. I had stepped back from my friend mentioned above before I had cancer...and yet, I was hurt that she didn't stand by me when I was diagnosed. I had also convinced myself it was all about me...but it may not have been at all.
I have tried for a long time to put into words why I stepped back from our friendship, and I just can't...not without divulging too much...revealing too much...without her knowing who she is, so I am just stopping here and saying simply, I miss her.
Yeah, cancer changes a lot but it doesn't change everything...people do that.
So, now I have hopefully explained enough although probably unnecessarily...so please, get out of my head...I have bigger demons to fry.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Saturday, March 27, 2010
An Invitation to Spring
The Saturday sun is practically blinding this morning, and I love it! I love spring! Winter used to be my favorite season, but that was more for the winter wardrobe...you know, being able to hide beneath layers of clothes and no one really knowing how fat you are? LOL
Being able to watch, what one would assume as "delicate", petals emerging from the cold, hard earth, is amazing. Flowers burst forth with color and determination to survive. I have found I am loving spring even more this year than ever before... Maybe it is a metaphor for my life? *in proper Shakespearean accent* "Oh, delicate petal of radiant color, bursting forth from hardened earth, to appear strong and unshakable with the strength of God's calling."
Ok, back to Kentucky drawl...
Maybe I am not a delicate blossom, but I am definitely drawing strength from God's calling. He has called me to be a living testimony of how He is good, ALL the time. Spring comes to remind us ALL of that, don't you think?
Big Daddy and I went to dinner the other night with Lucy and her husband. It was so nice and incredibly yummy. We went to a seafood place, as in real seafood, not Red Lobster "seafood". This place makes the most wonderful fried cod out there...and I don't even like fried food. Anyway, it was a lovely meal and the conversation was great, too. The next day while talking with Lucy on the phone, she told me that watching Big Daddy and I is like watching "two, teenage pups in love"... She went on to say that we look at each other as if we are "seeing each other for the first time and the love is tangible". Wow. Now, there's a compliment! I literally blushed when she told me that.
Here's the thing...the place where Big Daddy and I are in our marriage, our life, is a place I never even knew existed. I knew people had happy marriages and couples married their best friends, but I never knew that there was such a level of completeness, wholeness, one-ness that can be achieved, despite claiming it all the time... "Oh, you complete me..." "Oh, without you I am nothing..." "Oh, you make me whole..." I thought they were all cliches, but they are not...and I am living proof that the realm of one-ness does exist and is possible.
If I had the choice to have cancer or have a clean bill of health, I would choose having cancer. The place where my marriage is...where our family dynamics have evolved to...the levels of security, strength, and commitment on the part of all four of us in partnership with our family and friends, is astounding. Yes, astounding. I fully give God all the glory, honor, and praise for where my family is and how strong the ties that bind are among our friends.
You see, cancer is not a death sentence...it is an invitation to spring.
Being able to watch, what one would assume as "delicate", petals emerging from the cold, hard earth, is amazing. Flowers burst forth with color and determination to survive. I have found I am loving spring even more this year than ever before... Maybe it is a metaphor for my life? *in proper Shakespearean accent* "Oh, delicate petal of radiant color, bursting forth from hardened earth, to appear strong and unshakable with the strength of God's calling."
Ok, back to Kentucky drawl...
Maybe I am not a delicate blossom, but I am definitely drawing strength from God's calling. He has called me to be a living testimony of how He is good, ALL the time. Spring comes to remind us ALL of that, don't you think?
Big Daddy and I went to dinner the other night with Lucy and her husband. It was so nice and incredibly yummy. We went to a seafood place, as in real seafood, not Red Lobster "seafood". This place makes the most wonderful fried cod out there...and I don't even like fried food. Anyway, it was a lovely meal and the conversation was great, too. The next day while talking with Lucy on the phone, she told me that watching Big Daddy and I is like watching "two, teenage pups in love"... She went on to say that we look at each other as if we are "seeing each other for the first time and the love is tangible". Wow. Now, there's a compliment! I literally blushed when she told me that.
Here's the thing...the place where Big Daddy and I are in our marriage, our life, is a place I never even knew existed. I knew people had happy marriages and couples married their best friends, but I never knew that there was such a level of completeness, wholeness, one-ness that can be achieved, despite claiming it all the time... "Oh, you complete me..." "Oh, without you I am nothing..." "Oh, you make me whole..." I thought they were all cliches, but they are not...and I am living proof that the realm of one-ness does exist and is possible.
If I had the choice to have cancer or have a clean bill of health, I would choose having cancer. The place where my marriage is...where our family dynamics have evolved to...the levels of security, strength, and commitment on the part of all four of us in partnership with our family and friends, is astounding. Yes, astounding. I fully give God all the glory, honor, and praise for where my family is and how strong the ties that bind are among our friends.
You see, cancer is not a death sentence...it is an invitation to spring.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
For I Have Plans...
We stayed at the same hotel where we always stay for our weekend excursion. Actually, there is no hotel in our old town, so this is basically all there is to choose from. It is actually the same hotel we stayed in for our honeymoon...along with my family that had traveled from here and there. It was odd, yet precious, to have breakfast with Gan and PopPop on my honeymoon, but that's what you get when you marry young and have no money. LOL The extent of our honeymoon was a two-night stay thirty miles from where we got married. Quaint, but sweet. Hard to top that, but I can... This hotel is next to the cemetery where my parents are buried, and if you play your cards right, you can get the "cemetery view" with all odd numbered rooms. Our room number this past weekend? 207
Precious Son did not come with us this trip because he had made plans months ago to go on a college tour with his youth group from church. He and several other high school juniors and seniors are interested in attending some of the Bible colleges in Tennessee... It was our first trip for a family event where we did not have all four of us...and it made me sad. I missed him a great deal. Realizing that our time with him is incredibly limited made me even more sad, as his college days are rapidly approaching... Beautiful Daughter brought a friend with her, so we claimed her as our own, Precious Son and I texted often and we all called it a day. *smile*
We checked in and got into our pajamas. The rooms had not changed since our last visit. Nothing much had changed anywhere, including the vending machines, which may still have the same items for snacking that were there two years ago. Anyway, there is a familiarity with this hotel and it is nice, cemetery view, or not.
We checked in on Friday night, and left Sunday morning. There is something to be said for sleeping until 10:30, but not when check out is at 11. Needless to say, we threw all our things together in a hurry and bolted out of there. Robin was fixing lunch for all of us and we were to eat promptly at 1pm. Considering it takes a good hour and a half to get from the hotel to Robin's, we were pushing it. As we were pulling out of the hotel parking lot, Beautiful Daughter asked if we were going to stop by and see her grandparents. "Yes, if you would like to", I said, and we pulled into the cemetery.
Big Daddy had ridden his Harley for the trip, so we waited on him to pull in behind us. We walked up the steep hill with the granite cross near the top, an easy twelve feet tall. I remember walking toward that huge cross on the days my parents were buried so, so many years ago...and it never gets easier. Normally, I don't cry or get emotional. I know my parents are not there, per se. I know they reside in Heaven with our Lord and Savior and mere shells of bodies are all that remain at the top of that hill. I have always known that...but this day felt different.
I had not said a word. I had not shed one tear. Of course, with my limited threshold of physical capability, I was winded, but not consumed with being short of breath. Not much had changed since we were there last...a new bench made of stone in memory of someone was now close by the granite cross. Plastic flowers of red and gold dotted the headstones as family members had obviously visited during the Christmas holidays. A fresh grave to the right and a temporary marker to the left as someone had recently passed but not had their headstone erected yet. A cold, brisk breeze cascaded from the tree line which adorns the top of this section, my section, and I recalled how Taps was played from one of those trees as my father was laid to rest.
I reminded my family to please not mention out loud the dates on the headstones as I have gone this long without remembering their dates of birth or the dates of their death. Coping mechanism, I explained to the children long ago. I was always so sad on holidays and my birthday, I assumed my brain allowed me to forget additional days that would bring on sadness and realization that I was an orphan...
Big Daddy had held my hand as we walked up the hillside, but then he took me into his arms and asked if I was ok. He said, "What's going on? You are different this time"...and the tears flowed down my wind kissed cheeks.
"I hate that my mom had cancer. I hate that she felt as scared and sick and afraid as I have felt...and it was so much worse back then! I have had it so easy compared to the hell she went through and STILL died! I hate that! I just hate it!"
Big Daddy held me tight and I cried into his chest, sobbing at what my mother must have suffered through. If I felt like I was dead with my eyes open, then she must have felt even worse. Thirty-five years makes a tremendous difference in medical advancement, so if I wanted to die, then she must have wished for death even harder...
I continued on saying how horrendous it must have been for my daddy to watch my mom suffer and never get better. How the chemotherapy made her so sick and he could do nothing to ease her anguish. I told Big Daddy that I had always felt horrible for him having to watch me go through the sickness and side effects because I, and everyone else, could easily see the pain it caused him. To see his wife so sick and not be able to make it better...both men in my life had experienced the same trauma.
The tears continued to fall. This was new to me because, as I said, I normally am very fine and even disconnected when we visit the cemetery. I usually just go to please Beautiful Daughter because she always wants to go. How sad for our children that their connection to their grandparents is a cemetery...
Beautiful Daughter had walked away from Big Daddy and I. She was gathering up flowers of pink and yellow, to set in the vase on the gravestone of her grandparents. She does it every time we go. She walks the treeline and finds yellow and pink flowers that have blown away from their original arrangement and recipient. I never buy flowers to place on the headstones. I don't know why...except they are not there...my parents are not beneath that stone bearing their names.
"Yellow for your daddy and pink for your mommy, their favorites", she said as she placed the faded, plastic flowers in the cold urn. Beautiful Daughter was happy to do this and it made Big Daddy and I happy for her. She was quick to explain, as she always does, that she did not remove any flowers from anyone's vase, only taking flowers that God had let ride on the wind, into the trees.
We left the cemetery and headed toward Robin's house... I knew the lunch she was preparing was going to be wonderfully delicious and I was indeed hungry. Big Daddy and I stopped to fuel up both his bike and the Suburban, and we were on our way. And just like that, the cemetery vanished into the distance as I watched from the rear view mirror.
Considering the speeding ticket I received on the way there, I had to be super cautious with my speed. Apparently there was a big race in Bristol and every cop, trooper, and deputy Fife were out. I would like to go on record that this was my FIRST speeding ticket since 1992. Thank you. (Not the first time getting pulled over, but the first ticket. I don't want you to think I am leaving out some facts...LOL) Anyway, I watched my speed and tried to get my mind off of the things that had flooded it and on to things that were happy.
It didn't work.
We drove and drove and Beautiful Daughter wanted me to point out this, that, and the other. "Where did you and Daddy first kiss?" "Is that where you and Daddy worked together?" "Which mountain is the one Daddy hunted and played on?" "I think the church where you and Daddy got married is cute...where is it, again?" Regardless of the number of questions she asked, my mind stayed on the indelible pictures forever etched in my mind of my mother attached to IV's, tubes, and machines... Cancer... My father watching, pacing, fretting... Cancer... Cancer...
As we neared Robin's, I resigned myself to get my head together...for myself, for my sister, for our family lunch. You see, if I am upset, then Robin is upset. It's always been that way. If I cry, she cries. If I hurt, then she hurts. It isn't because of some invisible, supernatural connection or anything, it's because that's how she is. She cares deeply and wholeheartedly. Robin is a much better person that I will ever be, but I'm okay with that because she is so wonderful. Everyone loves her...always have. So, I got myself together and we pulled into Robin's driveway.
Lunch was fabulous, just as I knew it would be. I had asked her to make Mom's meatloaf, and she did, along with mashed potatoes, deviled eggs, and a host of other goodies. The fact that she had Girl Scout cookies made the meal as perfect as perfect could be. God, I love those caramel delights! We ate, we visited, we took pictures, and we enjoyed each other. Big Daddy and I headed out in time to get a jump on the race traffic and were Kentucky bound. The painful memories were replaced with new, happy ones and we drove home.
I have realized that dwelling on anything painful or sad or negative really only hurts myself. There is nothing to be gained from wallowing in self pity. I remember this woman telling me when I was 16, that I wasn't happy unless I was miserable. I will never forget those words. I don't recall what prompted her to say that to me, but it must have had some truth in it for me to have held onto the words for so long. I don't want to be that way. I don't want to hold on to anything that brings me down, for when I am down, I am furthest away from where God wants me to be.
"For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you...plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11
Precious Son did not come with us this trip because he had made plans months ago to go on a college tour with his youth group from church. He and several other high school juniors and seniors are interested in attending some of the Bible colleges in Tennessee... It was our first trip for a family event where we did not have all four of us...and it made me sad. I missed him a great deal. Realizing that our time with him is incredibly limited made me even more sad, as his college days are rapidly approaching... Beautiful Daughter brought a friend with her, so we claimed her as our own, Precious Son and I texted often and we all called it a day. *smile*
We checked in and got into our pajamas. The rooms had not changed since our last visit. Nothing much had changed anywhere, including the vending machines, which may still have the same items for snacking that were there two years ago. Anyway, there is a familiarity with this hotel and it is nice, cemetery view, or not.
We checked in on Friday night, and left Sunday morning. There is something to be said for sleeping until 10:30, but not when check out is at 11. Needless to say, we threw all our things together in a hurry and bolted out of there. Robin was fixing lunch for all of us and we were to eat promptly at 1pm. Considering it takes a good hour and a half to get from the hotel to Robin's, we were pushing it. As we were pulling out of the hotel parking lot, Beautiful Daughter asked if we were going to stop by and see her grandparents. "Yes, if you would like to", I said, and we pulled into the cemetery.
Big Daddy had ridden his Harley for the trip, so we waited on him to pull in behind us. We walked up the steep hill with the granite cross near the top, an easy twelve feet tall. I remember walking toward that huge cross on the days my parents were buried so, so many years ago...and it never gets easier. Normally, I don't cry or get emotional. I know my parents are not there, per se. I know they reside in Heaven with our Lord and Savior and mere shells of bodies are all that remain at the top of that hill. I have always known that...but this day felt different.
I had not said a word. I had not shed one tear. Of course, with my limited threshold of physical capability, I was winded, but not consumed with being short of breath. Not much had changed since we were there last...a new bench made of stone in memory of someone was now close by the granite cross. Plastic flowers of red and gold dotted the headstones as family members had obviously visited during the Christmas holidays. A fresh grave to the right and a temporary marker to the left as someone had recently passed but not had their headstone erected yet. A cold, brisk breeze cascaded from the tree line which adorns the top of this section, my section, and I recalled how Taps was played from one of those trees as my father was laid to rest.
I reminded my family to please not mention out loud the dates on the headstones as I have gone this long without remembering their dates of birth or the dates of their death. Coping mechanism, I explained to the children long ago. I was always so sad on holidays and my birthday, I assumed my brain allowed me to forget additional days that would bring on sadness and realization that I was an orphan...
Big Daddy had held my hand as we walked up the hillside, but then he took me into his arms and asked if I was ok. He said, "What's going on? You are different this time"...and the tears flowed down my wind kissed cheeks.
"I hate that my mom had cancer. I hate that she felt as scared and sick and afraid as I have felt...and it was so much worse back then! I have had it so easy compared to the hell she went through and STILL died! I hate that! I just hate it!"
Big Daddy held me tight and I cried into his chest, sobbing at what my mother must have suffered through. If I felt like I was dead with my eyes open, then she must have felt even worse. Thirty-five years makes a tremendous difference in medical advancement, so if I wanted to die, then she must have wished for death even harder...
I continued on saying how horrendous it must have been for my daddy to watch my mom suffer and never get better. How the chemotherapy made her so sick and he could do nothing to ease her anguish. I told Big Daddy that I had always felt horrible for him having to watch me go through the sickness and side effects because I, and everyone else, could easily see the pain it caused him. To see his wife so sick and not be able to make it better...both men in my life had experienced the same trauma.
The tears continued to fall. This was new to me because, as I said, I normally am very fine and even disconnected when we visit the cemetery. I usually just go to please Beautiful Daughter because she always wants to go. How sad for our children that their connection to their grandparents is a cemetery...
Beautiful Daughter had walked away from Big Daddy and I. She was gathering up flowers of pink and yellow, to set in the vase on the gravestone of her grandparents. She does it every time we go. She walks the treeline and finds yellow and pink flowers that have blown away from their original arrangement and recipient. I never buy flowers to place on the headstones. I don't know why...except they are not there...my parents are not beneath that stone bearing their names.
"Yellow for your daddy and pink for your mommy, their favorites", she said as she placed the faded, plastic flowers in the cold urn. Beautiful Daughter was happy to do this and it made Big Daddy and I happy for her. She was quick to explain, as she always does, that she did not remove any flowers from anyone's vase, only taking flowers that God had let ride on the wind, into the trees.
We left the cemetery and headed toward Robin's house... I knew the lunch she was preparing was going to be wonderfully delicious and I was indeed hungry. Big Daddy and I stopped to fuel up both his bike and the Suburban, and we were on our way. And just like that, the cemetery vanished into the distance as I watched from the rear view mirror.
Considering the speeding ticket I received on the way there, I had to be super cautious with my speed. Apparently there was a big race in Bristol and every cop, trooper, and deputy Fife were out. I would like to go on record that this was my FIRST speeding ticket since 1992. Thank you. (Not the first time getting pulled over, but the first ticket. I don't want you to think I am leaving out some facts...LOL) Anyway, I watched my speed and tried to get my mind off of the things that had flooded it and on to things that were happy.
It didn't work.
We drove and drove and Beautiful Daughter wanted me to point out this, that, and the other. "Where did you and Daddy first kiss?" "Is that where you and Daddy worked together?" "Which mountain is the one Daddy hunted and played on?" "I think the church where you and Daddy got married is cute...where is it, again?" Regardless of the number of questions she asked, my mind stayed on the indelible pictures forever etched in my mind of my mother attached to IV's, tubes, and machines... Cancer... My father watching, pacing, fretting... Cancer... Cancer...
As we neared Robin's, I resigned myself to get my head together...for myself, for my sister, for our family lunch. You see, if I am upset, then Robin is upset. It's always been that way. If I cry, she cries. If I hurt, then she hurts. It isn't because of some invisible, supernatural connection or anything, it's because that's how she is. She cares deeply and wholeheartedly. Robin is a much better person that I will ever be, but I'm okay with that because she is so wonderful. Everyone loves her...always have. So, I got myself together and we pulled into Robin's driveway.
Lunch was fabulous, just as I knew it would be. I had asked her to make Mom's meatloaf, and she did, along with mashed potatoes, deviled eggs, and a host of other goodies. The fact that she had Girl Scout cookies made the meal as perfect as perfect could be. God, I love those caramel delights! We ate, we visited, we took pictures, and we enjoyed each other. Big Daddy and I headed out in time to get a jump on the race traffic and were Kentucky bound. The painful memories were replaced with new, happy ones and we drove home.
I have realized that dwelling on anything painful or sad or negative really only hurts myself. There is nothing to be gained from wallowing in self pity. I remember this woman telling me when I was 16, that I wasn't happy unless I was miserable. I will never forget those words. I don't recall what prompted her to say that to me, but it must have had some truth in it for me to have held onto the words for so long. I don't want to be that way. I don't want to hold on to anything that brings me down, for when I am down, I am furthest away from where God wants me to be.
"For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you...plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11
Monday, March 22, 2010
An Open Letter To Whom It Applies~
I. Am. Done.
When Big Daddy and I got the call about having cancer, I made up my mind at that very moment that I would fight with dignity and as much grace as I could muster because our children were watching. I wanted to be a good role model and leave a legacy of not only having courage, but also a happy heart. I wanted them to see that bad things do happen to good people and that God never moves. God was to be our strength through this ordeal, just as He has been our strength in everyday living. I wanted our children to know that our blessings will always far exceed our trials and that God is good ALL the time. I wanted to show them that Christians fight the good fight so that when they encounter their own trials and tribulations, they will be able to recall that their mom handled hers with honor and humility as God worked through a potentially difficult crisis.
I am all about family. My family. Our extended family. Our friends-that-are-as-close-as-family. God first. Family second. Others third. Me last. That's the motto around here and we try to live by it. Sure, we had a misguided idea of what family means for a while...thinking it was to work, work, work...achieve, achieve, achieve and now we just enjoy each other and accomplish things occasionally as opposed to feeling like we have to conquer everything. Yeah, it took a cancer diagnosis to wake us up...to make us realize that tomorrow is not guaranteed, much less retirement filled with fabulous destinations and lazy days.
Big Daddy and I are not perfect parents. We do not have perfect children. We make mistakes and we do and say things we shouldn't. Do we fail? Heck yeah, we fail. Even with divine intervention to help us get our priorities straight, we still make mistakes. We get on that hamster wheel and Go! Go! Go! until one of us realizes we are slipping into old habits...and we get off the wheel. Through the grace of God, we have learned to treasure this day, this moment...
So, why am I done? Well, the other thing I wanted to teach our children is that there is no room for hypocrisy in this world. Ok, there obviously IS room, but I don't like it. Nothing really makes me more angry than a hypocrite...and I refuse to be one any longer. That's right kids, I have been the exact kind of person I loathe...a hypocrite.
How so, Dawn, you might ask... Allow me to elaborate...
I was waiting for the right time...the right moment... I was waiting until things got better or resolved or until one of us died. I have bitten my tongue more often than not and by God, it hurts. I have rolled over and played dead with people because of who they are related to and yet gone after total strangers for the exact same thing...hurting my children. Well, I am done. As of this weekend, I. Am. Done.
You no longer have the power to hurt us as a family. I am not interested in your commentary or reasons why things are the way they are. This is how things are now. Do not call me. Do not write to me. Do not pray for me. You see, when you purposefully hurt and ignore my children, then you have waved the red flag in front their bullish mama and that's me.
I have watched your favoritism play out over the years and it sickens me. Your dislike for me should not have any effect whatsoever on how you treat these kids, but it obviously does. So be it. You have made your choice. The lines have been drawn and you held the pen. I certainly hope the handprint teeshirt is worn in good health for years to come and I hope you see it often... Maybe you can refer to it as "The Last Straw" teeshirt.
When you sit in your church services with you holier than thou attitude, please do not mention my name. I would far rather have sinners like myself, praying for me than you. I am sure it has been a difficult road for you all to carry the weight of the world on your perfect shoulders. I, however, do not need your prayers going up on my behalf. You see, I know I am far from perfect, a sinner every day of my life, but I am saved. You, on the other hand, believe yourselves to be better than everyone else. Good luck with that. The day will come when you are slammed into a wall of humility and you will see things differently.
I am no longer willing to have my children see me as a hypocrite, as they do you. They wonder why I have never said anything, why I have never spoken up for them. Well, I was all about keeping the peace and not being the bad person you have always made me out to be. However, here's the new deal. I do not care one iota what you think of me. I have nothing to prove to you. You have chosen these paths for yourselves and at some point, you will recognize that the only other people on that path with you are just you all. No one subscribes to your way of thinking...no one.
Be upset with me. I don't care. Hate me more than you already do. Again, I could not care less. Enjoy your time with each other because that is really all you have at this point. You think I am the only who feels the way I do about you all? Think again and enjoy each other.
So, the last thing to know is this. I absolutely refuse to be a hypocrite. I will not gossip and carry on about people Monday through Saturday and then hit the pew on Sunday morning, Sunday night, Wednesday evening, and at the revival. I refuse to pretend to be something I am not. I take great pride on where my family is as well as where we came from and knowing Big Daddy and I did it all by ourselves. My being quiet is done and over with. I never did it for you all, anyway...you know who I did it for and you know it was never about you. I swallowed my pride, which was probably a good thing, but it was to make life easier on the people who love us back, not you all.
Our children will know that I tried. Our children will know that I gave it all I had for as long as I could, and everyone knows it has been a verrrrrrrry long time... Most importantly however, our children will know that I stood up for them despite the easier way of just letting things go. I hate that it took this long...I hate that the few times I did hint around that I stopped so as not to ruffle feathers...I hate that I allowed myself to become like you...a hypocrite.
Cancer has given me more than it can ever take away and surprisingly, I have even received the gift of candor. No longer will I sit idly by while you stomp on the feelings of our children through your inconsideration of them, your dismissal of them, and your choice to ignore them. For the record, the hurt you have brought upon Big Daddy is colossal. That, too, will never be forgotten.
Tomorrow, I will still be a sinner...and I still won't hide it or deny it. Tomorrow, I will try my best to be the Christian God knows I can be. Tomorrow, I will begin and end my day with prayer and ask for forgiveness for my sins. Tomorrow, my family will know that I am no longer willing to just let things go at the expense of their feelings. Tomorrow, I will have the same friends, the same support, the same cancer, but I will also have the knowledge that I am who I say I am and my word is my bond. Amazingly, tomorrow will have me in the exact same place I am right this minute because that is how it is with truth. Truth is constant...and my tomorrow is just like my today. Your truth changes with the wind.
As you sit in judgment, as I am sure you will, know that you have missed out on some really great kids. Hope it was worth it.
So, I am done...and it feels great!
When Big Daddy and I got the call about having cancer, I made up my mind at that very moment that I would fight with dignity and as much grace as I could muster because our children were watching. I wanted to be a good role model and leave a legacy of not only having courage, but also a happy heart. I wanted them to see that bad things do happen to good people and that God never moves. God was to be our strength through this ordeal, just as He has been our strength in everyday living. I wanted our children to know that our blessings will always far exceed our trials and that God is good ALL the time. I wanted to show them that Christians fight the good fight so that when they encounter their own trials and tribulations, they will be able to recall that their mom handled hers with honor and humility as God worked through a potentially difficult crisis.
I am all about family. My family. Our extended family. Our friends-that-are-as-close-as-family. God first. Family second. Others third. Me last. That's the motto around here and we try to live by it. Sure, we had a misguided idea of what family means for a while...thinking it was to work, work, work...achieve, achieve, achieve and now we just enjoy each other and accomplish things occasionally as opposed to feeling like we have to conquer everything. Yeah, it took a cancer diagnosis to wake us up...to make us realize that tomorrow is not guaranteed, much less retirement filled with fabulous destinations and lazy days.
Big Daddy and I are not perfect parents. We do not have perfect children. We make mistakes and we do and say things we shouldn't. Do we fail? Heck yeah, we fail. Even with divine intervention to help us get our priorities straight, we still make mistakes. We get on that hamster wheel and Go! Go! Go! until one of us realizes we are slipping into old habits...and we get off the wheel. Through the grace of God, we have learned to treasure this day, this moment...
So, why am I done? Well, the other thing I wanted to teach our children is that there is no room for hypocrisy in this world. Ok, there obviously IS room, but I don't like it. Nothing really makes me more angry than a hypocrite...and I refuse to be one any longer. That's right kids, I have been the exact kind of person I loathe...a hypocrite.
How so, Dawn, you might ask... Allow me to elaborate...
I was waiting for the right time...the right moment... I was waiting until things got better or resolved or until one of us died. I have bitten my tongue more often than not and by God, it hurts. I have rolled over and played dead with people because of who they are related to and yet gone after total strangers for the exact same thing...hurting my children. Well, I am done. As of this weekend, I. Am. Done.
You no longer have the power to hurt us as a family. I am not interested in your commentary or reasons why things are the way they are. This is how things are now. Do not call me. Do not write to me. Do not pray for me. You see, when you purposefully hurt and ignore my children, then you have waved the red flag in front their bullish mama and that's me.
I have watched your favoritism play out over the years and it sickens me. Your dislike for me should not have any effect whatsoever on how you treat these kids, but it obviously does. So be it. You have made your choice. The lines have been drawn and you held the pen. I certainly hope the handprint teeshirt is worn in good health for years to come and I hope you see it often... Maybe you can refer to it as "The Last Straw" teeshirt.
When you sit in your church services with you holier than thou attitude, please do not mention my name. I would far rather have sinners like myself, praying for me than you. I am sure it has been a difficult road for you all to carry the weight of the world on your perfect shoulders. I, however, do not need your prayers going up on my behalf. You see, I know I am far from perfect, a sinner every day of my life, but I am saved. You, on the other hand, believe yourselves to be better than everyone else. Good luck with that. The day will come when you are slammed into a wall of humility and you will see things differently.
I am no longer willing to have my children see me as a hypocrite, as they do you. They wonder why I have never said anything, why I have never spoken up for them. Well, I was all about keeping the peace and not being the bad person you have always made me out to be. However, here's the new deal. I do not care one iota what you think of me. I have nothing to prove to you. You have chosen these paths for yourselves and at some point, you will recognize that the only other people on that path with you are just you all. No one subscribes to your way of thinking...no one.
Be upset with me. I don't care. Hate me more than you already do. Again, I could not care less. Enjoy your time with each other because that is really all you have at this point. You think I am the only who feels the way I do about you all? Think again and enjoy each other.
So, the last thing to know is this. I absolutely refuse to be a hypocrite. I will not gossip and carry on about people Monday through Saturday and then hit the pew on Sunday morning, Sunday night, Wednesday evening, and at the revival. I refuse to pretend to be something I am not. I take great pride on where my family is as well as where we came from and knowing Big Daddy and I did it all by ourselves. My being quiet is done and over with. I never did it for you all, anyway...you know who I did it for and you know it was never about you. I swallowed my pride, which was probably a good thing, but it was to make life easier on the people who love us back, not you all.
Our children will know that I tried. Our children will know that I gave it all I had for as long as I could, and everyone knows it has been a verrrrrrrry long time... Most importantly however, our children will know that I stood up for them despite the easier way of just letting things go. I hate that it took this long...I hate that the few times I did hint around that I stopped so as not to ruffle feathers...I hate that I allowed myself to become like you...a hypocrite.
Cancer has given me more than it can ever take away and surprisingly, I have even received the gift of candor. No longer will I sit idly by while you stomp on the feelings of our children through your inconsideration of them, your dismissal of them, and your choice to ignore them. For the record, the hurt you have brought upon Big Daddy is colossal. That, too, will never be forgotten.
Tomorrow, I will still be a sinner...and I still won't hide it or deny it. Tomorrow, I will try my best to be the Christian God knows I can be. Tomorrow, I will begin and end my day with prayer and ask for forgiveness for my sins. Tomorrow, my family will know that I am no longer willing to just let things go at the expense of their feelings. Tomorrow, I will have the same friends, the same support, the same cancer, but I will also have the knowledge that I am who I say I am and my word is my bond. Amazingly, tomorrow will have me in the exact same place I am right this minute because that is how it is with truth. Truth is constant...and my tomorrow is just like my today. Your truth changes with the wind.
As you sit in judgment, as I am sure you will, know that you have missed out on some really great kids. Hope it was worth it.
So, I am done...and it feels great!
Happy 80th Birthday Mamaw Elsie!!
Finally, I can tell you of the big secret!! Big Daddy's grandmother, Elsie, turned eighty years old this week. Plans have been in the works for months...a surprise party for her in her hometown and family members from all over the place made arrangements to come in. It was a fantastic weekend full of memory making and reminiscing of days past.
The old junior high on Main Street is now available for renting, so that's what we did. We all chipped in and rented out the gym. Lots of people brought in air mattresses and spent the night. The gym was decorated for a luau with leis, palm trees, colorful beach towels, flip-flops, and door prizes made from hollowed out coconut shells turned into monkeys. It was awesome!
All the women and girls wore grass hula skirts and coconut shell bikini tops. It was the funniest thing. We had a great time. The chance to visit and share with each other is not as common as we would like because of distance and number of family members. Mamaw Elsie and her husband, PD, had eight children and all of them had a ton of kids and so on and so on... In other words, we needed a gym to hold all of us! *smile*
I took one picture of four generations. Elsie, Phyllis, Heather, and Heather's little girls. It was simply beautiful. And so it is with family...the love goes on for generations if you do it right. With Mamaw Elsie at the helm, we have been taught to do it right, for sure. Elsie is the most kind and generous person you could know. Her laughter is contagious and her antics are as endearing as anything you could imagine. Mamaw welcomed me into the family as soon as she heard about me so many years ago. I even told her one time that I didn't think everyone in the family liked me to which she replied, "Maybe not, but I love you."
There was a slide show presentation with a bunch of pictures of Mamaw and Papaw's life through the ages. Old timey photos in black and white, tinged with a yellowish hue from age. Children in their young prime in the 80's now have grandchildren, and the pictures reflect the evolution of family. A black and white picture of young girls on a front porch, sitting at the feet of their father. The youngest of eight, a mere boy graduating from high school in the 70's, beaming with the pride of accomplishment as his parents look on. Tommy being Tommy making us all laugh for the past few decades. Phyllis...salt of the earth. Linda, Ruth, and Kathy showed up in pictures with enough hairspray to keep Aqua Net in business for centuries. The wedding of Big Daddy and I as we stood before the minister and exchanged our vows. James looking like Evel Knievel in his track suit from the early 80's. Papaw on a John Deere tractor. Mamaw in the kitchen laughing with the girls. A washcloth on Papaw's head and him just smiling and enjoying the moment, whatever it was. Their children...their children's children...their children's children's children...The decades roll on. Weddings, babies, family vacations spanning a curious assortment of swimsuits, cookouts, reunions, birthdays, laughter caught on film... This is family.
Big Daddy told me that Mamaw confided in him that this was the most wonderful gift she could have received...just having her family with her. I would have to agree.
Happiest of Birthdays, Mamaw. We love you.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EplHgaW-f_8
"The Very Last Country Song" by Sugarland
The old junior high on Main Street is now available for renting, so that's what we did. We all chipped in and rented out the gym. Lots of people brought in air mattresses and spent the night. The gym was decorated for a luau with leis, palm trees, colorful beach towels, flip-flops, and door prizes made from hollowed out coconut shells turned into monkeys. It was awesome!
All the women and girls wore grass hula skirts and coconut shell bikini tops. It was the funniest thing. We had a great time. The chance to visit and share with each other is not as common as we would like because of distance and number of family members. Mamaw Elsie and her husband, PD, had eight children and all of them had a ton of kids and so on and so on... In other words, we needed a gym to hold all of us! *smile*
I took one picture of four generations. Elsie, Phyllis, Heather, and Heather's little girls. It was simply beautiful. And so it is with family...the love goes on for generations if you do it right. With Mamaw Elsie at the helm, we have been taught to do it right, for sure. Elsie is the most kind and generous person you could know. Her laughter is contagious and her antics are as endearing as anything you could imagine. Mamaw welcomed me into the family as soon as she heard about me so many years ago. I even told her one time that I didn't think everyone in the family liked me to which she replied, "Maybe not, but I love you."
There was a slide show presentation with a bunch of pictures of Mamaw and Papaw's life through the ages. Old timey photos in black and white, tinged with a yellowish hue from age. Children in their young prime in the 80's now have grandchildren, and the pictures reflect the evolution of family. A black and white picture of young girls on a front porch, sitting at the feet of their father. The youngest of eight, a mere boy graduating from high school in the 70's, beaming with the pride of accomplishment as his parents look on. Tommy being Tommy making us all laugh for the past few decades. Phyllis...salt of the earth. Linda, Ruth, and Kathy showed up in pictures with enough hairspray to keep Aqua Net in business for centuries. The wedding of Big Daddy and I as we stood before the minister and exchanged our vows. James looking like Evel Knievel in his track suit from the early 80's. Papaw on a John Deere tractor. Mamaw in the kitchen laughing with the girls. A washcloth on Papaw's head and him just smiling and enjoying the moment, whatever it was. Their children...their children's children...their children's children's children...The decades roll on. Weddings, babies, family vacations spanning a curious assortment of swimsuits, cookouts, reunions, birthdays, laughter caught on film... This is family.
Big Daddy told me that Mamaw confided in him that this was the most wonderful gift she could have received...just having her family with her. I would have to agree.
Happiest of Birthdays, Mamaw. We love you.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EplHgaW-f_8
"The Very Last Country Song" by Sugarland
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
St. Patrick's Day
I am not wearing green. Not because I don't like green or don't have anything green, I think I am simply refusing to wear green for general principle. I am pretty tired of being told what to do. I am relatively sure no one will pinch me because long before being used as a pin cushion for the medical and oncology communities, I hated to be pinched. Now? I will smack you. Hard.
So, rebelling when and where I can. It isn't that hard to imagine, if you know me. Sometimes I get pretty fed up with being a rule follower, an obeyer, legalistic. It is my nature to be those things, although I am not sure why. Some people just are, I guess. Maybe that is why I am such a crazy driver...I truly do not follow the rules of the road. Now, if everyone was respectful of the fact that I am the pacecar, I would not have to drive like a lunatic on fire.
Had my second MUGA scan this morning. That is the test where they check your heart for damage from the chemo. This test requires two needle sticks, the second one containing radioactive something-or-other. The MUGA tech was a very good stick and he got me on the first try, both times. Words cannot express how happy that makes me. After the first stick, I had to go back into the waiting room while I became radioactive. I played "dots" on my iPhone with a total stranger and won. Obviously the radioactive cocktail increased my intelligence because I usually lose at dots. Ah, medical technology.
Came on home and was dropping off clothes on the way back to bed. Jacket...living room. Shoes...hallway. Pants...bedroom. Hat and headwrap...floor. Goodnight. Asleep by 9am. Woke up at 2pm. I'm telling you what. This radiation better be doing something good inside of me because I certainly am losing a lot of time sleeping away the after effects.
Anyway, it's Wednesday and time is drawing close to the weekend. Precious Son will be going with his youth minister and some other uprising high school seniors to visit two Bible colleges he is interested in attending. What? A visit to colleges as if he is old enough to be attending college anytime soon?? How did this happen? He is my baby...all 6'4", 210 pounds of him.
Deep sigh...
Beautiful Daughter, Big Daddy, and I have plans, too, but I cannot go into detail yet. Suffice it to say that someone very, very special is the major focus of our weekend.
Have been online the past couple of nights looking/planning/scheming vacation plans for us. I truly want an incredible vacation for my family. They deserve it. It's been a rough haul and they deserve a getaway that allows them to literally "get away". Of course, we are going to a beach...which may not sound extraordinary to you, but when you figure in having to purchase your very first prosthetic bathing suit, then you see just one more reminder how things have changed.
Deeper sigh...
My left arm has been swelling a lot the past few days. To the point of hurting, actually. I had to take off my rings...wedding band and all. It was a sad day. I never take them off. It isn't out of fear that I will inundated with indecent proposals by men or anything crazy like that...it's just my visible connection to Big Daddy and I have worn them for two decades. I feel exposed without them. Naked. Oh wait! Can't feel naked...not with this body! Not now!!
Deepest sigh.
So, am not wearing green today. Perhaps a lovely shade of blue would be more appropriate.
Regardless, Happy St. Patrick's Day... Here is some history from Mark D. Roberts...
Today is St. Patrick’s Day. Most people think of this day as a time for wearing green and that’s about it (unless you’re Irish!). St. Patrick gets relatively little attention on his day, so I thought I might offer a few thoughts in his honor, including a prayer that is attributed to him.
Patrick’s story reads like an Indiana Jones-type adventure. Raised in Britain (yes, not Ireland), Patrick was captured by pirates in A.D. 405 when he was only sixteen years old. The kidnappers whisked him away to Ireland and sold Patrick into slavery. He spent eight years as a captive in this pagan land.
During his captivity, Patrick embraced the Christian faith of his upbringing, something that had mattered little to him beforehand. In his own words, Patrick explained: “And there the Lord opened the sense of my unbelief that I might at last remember my sins and be converted with all my heart to the Lord my God, who had regard for my abjection, and mercy on my youth and ignorance, and watched over me before I knew Him, and before I was able to distinguish between good and evil, and guarded me, and comforted me as would a father his son” (from The Confession of St. Patrick).
Inspired by a dream, Patrick finally escaped from Ireland and made his way back to his home in Britain. But, in time, he sensed God’s call to return to Ireland, of all places, in order to share the good news of Christ with the pagans there. Even though he feared he wasn’t sufficiently learned to be a missionary, Patrick returned to Ireland, where he found unprecedented success in his evangelistic endeavors. His experience of Irish language and culture during his years as a slave enabled Patrick to communicate the Christian gospel with unusual effectiveness.
Though we can’t be sure when Patrick died, tradition holds that he lived into his seventies and died on March 17 in the latter half of the fifth-century A.D. In twenty-five or thirty years of evangelistic work, he led thousands of Irish pagans to Christ and was responsible for Ireland’s becoming one of the most Christian nations in Europe. For this reason he is called “the apostle of the Irish.”
The story of Patrick reminds me, in a way, of Joseph’s experience in Egypt. In both cases, what kidnappers and slave masters intended for evil, God intended for good (Gen. 50:20). Today I want to celebrate, not only Patrick’s example of faithfulness, but also the mystery and majesty of God’s redemptive sovereignty. It’s not unusual for people who have experienced some particular trauma in life to end up ministering to others who suffer that same trauma. A friend of mine, for example, who was sexually abused by her pastor when she was a teenager, now has a tenderhearted ministry to women who have experienced similar abuse. Thus, St. Patrick serves as an example of how God can work all things together for good, even things which are quite evil.
The closing prayer today is attributed to St. Patrick, sometimes called his “Breastplate.” There are many different versions of this prayer, and we can’t be sure it originated with Patrick. Nevertheless, it faithfully represents his powerful faith in the triune God. The first line “I arise today” is sometimes translated as “I bind unto myself today.”
I arise today
Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
Through the belief in the threeness,
Through confession of the oneness,
Of the Creator of Creation.
I arise today
Through the strength of Christ's birth with his baptism,
Through the strength of his crucifixion with his burial,
Through the strength of his resurrection with his ascension,
Through the strength of his descent for the judgment of Doom.
I arise today
Through the strength of the love of Cherubim,
In obedience of angels,
In the service of archangels,
In hope of resurrection to meet with reward,
In prayers of patriarchs,
In predictions of prophets,
In preaching of apostles,
In faith of confessors,
In innocence of holy virgins,
In deeds of righteous men.
I arise today
Through the strength of heaven:
Light of sun,
Radiance of moon,
Splendor of fire,
Speed of lightning,
Swiftness of wind,
Depth of sea,
Stability of earth,
Firmness of rock.
I arise today
Through God's strength to pilot me:
God's might to uphold me,
God's wisdom to guide me,
God's eye to look before me,
God's ear to hear me,
God's word to speak for me,
God's hand to guard me,
God's way to lie before me,
God's shield to protect me,
God's host to save me,
From snares of devils,
From temptations of vices,
From everyone who shall wish me ill,
Afar and anear,
Alone and in multitude.
I summon today all these powers between me and those evils,
Against every cruel merciless power that may oppose my body and soul,
Against incantations of false prophets,
Against black laws of pagandom
Against false laws of heretics,
Against craft of idolatry,
Against spells of witches and smiths and wizards,
Against every knowledge that corrupts man's body and soul.
Christ to shield me today
Against poison, against burning,
Against drowning, against wounding,
So that there may come to me abundance of reward.
Christ with me,
Christ before me,
Christ behind me,
Christ in me,
Christ beneath me,
Christ above me,
Christ on my right,
Christ on my left,
Christ when I lie down,
Christ when I sit down,
Christ when I arise,
Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me,
Christ in every eye that sees me,
Christ in every ear that hears me.
I arise today
Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
Through belief in the threeness,
Through confession of the oneness,
Of the Creator of Creation.
Amen.
So, rebelling when and where I can. It isn't that hard to imagine, if you know me. Sometimes I get pretty fed up with being a rule follower, an obeyer, legalistic. It is my nature to be those things, although I am not sure why. Some people just are, I guess. Maybe that is why I am such a crazy driver...I truly do not follow the rules of the road. Now, if everyone was respectful of the fact that I am the pacecar, I would not have to drive like a lunatic on fire.
Had my second MUGA scan this morning. That is the test where they check your heart for damage from the chemo. This test requires two needle sticks, the second one containing radioactive something-or-other. The MUGA tech was a very good stick and he got me on the first try, both times. Words cannot express how happy that makes me. After the first stick, I had to go back into the waiting room while I became radioactive. I played "dots" on my iPhone with a total stranger and won. Obviously the radioactive cocktail increased my intelligence because I usually lose at dots. Ah, medical technology.
Came on home and was dropping off clothes on the way back to bed. Jacket...living room. Shoes...hallway. Pants...bedroom. Hat and headwrap...floor. Goodnight. Asleep by 9am. Woke up at 2pm. I'm telling you what. This radiation better be doing something good inside of me because I certainly am losing a lot of time sleeping away the after effects.
Anyway, it's Wednesday and time is drawing close to the weekend. Precious Son will be going with his youth minister and some other uprising high school seniors to visit two Bible colleges he is interested in attending. What? A visit to colleges as if he is old enough to be attending college anytime soon?? How did this happen? He is my baby...all 6'4", 210 pounds of him.
Deep sigh...
Beautiful Daughter, Big Daddy, and I have plans, too, but I cannot go into detail yet. Suffice it to say that someone very, very special is the major focus of our weekend.
Have been online the past couple of nights looking/planning/scheming vacation plans for us. I truly want an incredible vacation for my family. They deserve it. It's been a rough haul and they deserve a getaway that allows them to literally "get away". Of course, we are going to a beach...which may not sound extraordinary to you, but when you figure in having to purchase your very first prosthetic bathing suit, then you see just one more reminder how things have changed.
Deeper sigh...
My left arm has been swelling a lot the past few days. To the point of hurting, actually. I had to take off my rings...wedding band and all. It was a sad day. I never take them off. It isn't out of fear that I will inundated with indecent proposals by men or anything crazy like that...it's just my visible connection to Big Daddy and I have worn them for two decades. I feel exposed without them. Naked. Oh wait! Can't feel naked...not with this body! Not now!!
Deepest sigh.
So, am not wearing green today. Perhaps a lovely shade of blue would be more appropriate.
Regardless, Happy St. Patrick's Day... Here is some history from Mark D. Roberts...
Today is St. Patrick’s Day. Most people think of this day as a time for wearing green and that’s about it (unless you’re Irish!). St. Patrick gets relatively little attention on his day, so I thought I might offer a few thoughts in his honor, including a prayer that is attributed to him.
Patrick’s story reads like an Indiana Jones-type adventure. Raised in Britain (yes, not Ireland), Patrick was captured by pirates in A.D. 405 when he was only sixteen years old. The kidnappers whisked him away to Ireland and sold Patrick into slavery. He spent eight years as a captive in this pagan land.
During his captivity, Patrick embraced the Christian faith of his upbringing, something that had mattered little to him beforehand. In his own words, Patrick explained: “And there the Lord opened the sense of my unbelief that I might at last remember my sins and be converted with all my heart to the Lord my God, who had regard for my abjection, and mercy on my youth and ignorance, and watched over me before I knew Him, and before I was able to distinguish between good and evil, and guarded me, and comforted me as would a father his son” (from The Confession of St. Patrick).
Inspired by a dream, Patrick finally escaped from Ireland and made his way back to his home in Britain. But, in time, he sensed God’s call to return to Ireland, of all places, in order to share the good news of Christ with the pagans there. Even though he feared he wasn’t sufficiently learned to be a missionary, Patrick returned to Ireland, where he found unprecedented success in his evangelistic endeavors. His experience of Irish language and culture during his years as a slave enabled Patrick to communicate the Christian gospel with unusual effectiveness.
Though we can’t be sure when Patrick died, tradition holds that he lived into his seventies and died on March 17 in the latter half of the fifth-century A.D. In twenty-five or thirty years of evangelistic work, he led thousands of Irish pagans to Christ and was responsible for Ireland’s becoming one of the most Christian nations in Europe. For this reason he is called “the apostle of the Irish.”
The story of Patrick reminds me, in a way, of Joseph’s experience in Egypt. In both cases, what kidnappers and slave masters intended for evil, God intended for good (Gen. 50:20). Today I want to celebrate, not only Patrick’s example of faithfulness, but also the mystery and majesty of God’s redemptive sovereignty. It’s not unusual for people who have experienced some particular trauma in life to end up ministering to others who suffer that same trauma. A friend of mine, for example, who was sexually abused by her pastor when she was a teenager, now has a tenderhearted ministry to women who have experienced similar abuse. Thus, St. Patrick serves as an example of how God can work all things together for good, even things which are quite evil.
The closing prayer today is attributed to St. Patrick, sometimes called his “Breastplate.” There are many different versions of this prayer, and we can’t be sure it originated with Patrick. Nevertheless, it faithfully represents his powerful faith in the triune God. The first line “I arise today” is sometimes translated as “I bind unto myself today.”
I arise today
Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
Through the belief in the threeness,
Through confession of the oneness,
Of the Creator of Creation.
I arise today
Through the strength of Christ's birth with his baptism,
Through the strength of his crucifixion with his burial,
Through the strength of his resurrection with his ascension,
Through the strength of his descent for the judgment of Doom.
I arise today
Through the strength of the love of Cherubim,
In obedience of angels,
In the service of archangels,
In hope of resurrection to meet with reward,
In prayers of patriarchs,
In predictions of prophets,
In preaching of apostles,
In faith of confessors,
In innocence of holy virgins,
In deeds of righteous men.
I arise today
Through the strength of heaven:
Light of sun,
Radiance of moon,
Splendor of fire,
Speed of lightning,
Swiftness of wind,
Depth of sea,
Stability of earth,
Firmness of rock.
I arise today
Through God's strength to pilot me:
God's might to uphold me,
God's wisdom to guide me,
God's eye to look before me,
God's ear to hear me,
God's word to speak for me,
God's hand to guard me,
God's way to lie before me,
God's shield to protect me,
God's host to save me,
From snares of devils,
From temptations of vices,
From everyone who shall wish me ill,
Afar and anear,
Alone and in multitude.
I summon today all these powers between me and those evils,
Against every cruel merciless power that may oppose my body and soul,
Against incantations of false prophets,
Against black laws of pagandom
Against false laws of heretics,
Against craft of idolatry,
Against spells of witches and smiths and wizards,
Against every knowledge that corrupts man's body and soul.
Christ to shield me today
Against poison, against burning,
Against drowning, against wounding,
So that there may come to me abundance of reward.
Christ with me,
Christ before me,
Christ behind me,
Christ in me,
Christ beneath me,
Christ above me,
Christ on my right,
Christ on my left,
Christ when I lie down,
Christ when I sit down,
Christ when I arise,
Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me,
Christ in every eye that sees me,
Christ in every ear that hears me.
I arise today
Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
Through belief in the threeness,
Through confession of the oneness,
Of the Creator of Creation.
Amen.
Monday, March 15, 2010
A Happy Heart
It is Monday evening, going on 7pm. Really, the first opportunity I have had to write in days. Mind you, I am not complaining whatsoever, because I have had a glorious time...
After radiation on Friday and my subsequent post, I went to bed. I would guess I was asleep by 9am...slept until 1pm...got up, did something I don't recall...went back to bed from about 2:30pm...got up around 6pm...bed by 10pm. Please believe the person telling you that radiation is exhausting even if they have lied about everything else their whole, entire life.
Saturday was wonderful! OH!! Just wonderful, I say!!! Had my first photo shoot of the day at 9am downtown. It was with a precious 15 month old little girl and she was adorable. Too cute!
Next, I had a young lady and her oboe. So very, very sweet. We took some pictures and I heard later that she was pleased. I say you are a success if you please an eleven year old who is caught in the throes of body changes, "who am I?", and middle school...and we all know how I feel about the havoc wreaked by attending middle school. Having that young girl happy with her pictures means the shoot was a success. *smile*
Next, I worked with two sisters who happen to be fraternal twins. Both were beautiful and incredibly photogenic. These girls seemingly had a great time. Of course, asking fifteen year old girls to pose is a guaranteed win-win situation.
After the sisters, I photographed two more young ladies who are best friends. I took individual shots as well as "friends" ones. I dare say, these photos are pretty darn good. Of course, when you consider that I am photographing "the beautiful people of the world", it's not really the photographer, is it? *smile* If you look at the website, you will see for yourself, I am surrounded by beautiful people! http://www.walksoftlyphoto.com/ However, what you won't see is that Midge and Babs were with me on the shoots and that is why the photographer was smiling.
Saturday evening, we had dinner with Babs and Ken and it was yummy. Church on Sunday morning and the Kentucky Wildcats won the SEC tournament Sunday afternoon. Woot! Woot! Needless to say, I took a nap and it lasted quite a while. Long enough to make up for daylight savings time and then some...
Church Sunday night for the kids and I worked on the photos until the wee hours of the morn. Ok, ok. Maybe not wee hours, but when you are trying to hang on until 9:30 at night, staying up until midnight is h-a-r-d!! I actually worked on the photos at every opportunity from the time I got home after the shoots on Saturday until just before supper tonight.
You know how they say you should have a job that you love and that you would do for free? Well, I have found it...and it's photography, image manipulation, and telling stories without using words...
Today was my last day of radiation. They gave me a certificate of appreciation and completion. I cried. Not because of the certificate but because these wonderful, wonderful women have endeared themselves to me forever. I was never a cancer patient...I was just Dawn... I miss them already.
I took Beautiful Daughter with me so she could get a glimpse into this profession in case she decides the whole chef thing won't work without her being able to taste-test dishes that are not macaroni and cheese based. The girls allowed her to watch from the safety of monitor room and they treated her with the utmost kindness and were excited that she was interested in what they do. She told me later that she could understand why I cried at the thought of not seeing them anymore. I told her that is what makes a good nurse, not their knowledge of anatomy.
Beautiful Daughter has been fighting a sore throat. At some point, maybe Thursday, I took her to the doctor. She tested negative for strep, but positive for something so they prescribed Amoxicillin, so it must not have been too bad since Amoxicillin is a pink placebo. Anyway, today, Monday, after having the antibiotic in her system long enough to feel better, she tells me she thinks she should stay home from school. I laughed inside because I knew it was coming...not because of her symptoms but because of her love to stay with me during school days. You know, I kept her out. I did not take her to school today and I don't regret it. I will be going back to work in another two weeks and my daughter wanted to spend the day with me. Bad mom? So be it.
I had received an invitation to a professional networking group from Lucy. She and some other people she knows are members. They have lunch every Monday and promote/network each other's businesses. The group is establishing trust in the business community via these chapter meetings and business exposure. Each week, the members give a sixty second introduction of their business and then the visitors are asked to do the same. Let me tell you, when it was my turn and the words came out that I represented Walk Softly Photography, I could have melted. I wished Big Daddy had been there because this was one of those moments you remember forever and I love it when he is with me for those...well, when they are good moments to remember. I wanted to text him and tell him that I had just introduced myself as a photographer, but I thought they would figure out I am a kid trapped in a grown up's body, so I just ate my pickle instead.
Beautiful Daughter and I came home and I finished up the photos so that they were all posted on the site and then we took a nap. There is something incredibly special about taking a nap with your child regardless of how old your child is...
Jumped out of bed as I turned over and realized it was going on 5 o'clock and I had to get supper going. Self-imposed panic because nobody really cares when we eat as long as we do. I just want to be that perfect mom/housewife with the string of pearls and dinner on the table at six. Sure enough, I pulled it off but only because I had already cooked the chicken. LOL Hey, I may not be June Cleaver but my husband loves me, our kids think I'm pretty cool, and our friends keep me close by, so it's all good.
Big Daddy goes back on his regular schedule beginning tonight after a week of dayshift. He is asleep now as I type. Beautiful Daughter is in her room cleaning off her vanity and using the new pink and green containers I bought to help her organize that girly mess. Precious Son is sitting on his futon, playing X-Box with his online friends, narrating as he goes, which makes me laugh. He's always done that narrating thing, even before we went with X-Box Live...not sure where he gets it or why he does it, but he is such a commentator, it really is something to listen to even when annihilating aliens and zombies.
I have made the taco meat for tomorrow's Mexican fiesta while I have been typing and have also finished up the laundry. I am listening to my second David Gray cd and am very happy to be doing so. As it turns out, this cd purchase included a bonus cd with David live from the Roundhouse, so it was definitely worth buying again. However, if I misplace this one, Big Daddy may just make me look a little harder before we buy the third installment of the exact same thing. LOL
You know, I have had a great couple of days and I am so grateful. Someone asked me yesterday if I am as happy as I appear to be all the time. I said "no, actually, I am not, but I am far too blessed to complain about something that has changed me and my life, for the better". In fact, last night as we were driving the kids home from church, Beautiful Daughter recounted this story...
"Tonight the group leader said that some people in the world think that Christians are always rich in life and that only good things happen to them. Then she said that was not true and asked if anyone had an example. I raised my hand and said that I didn't think it was fair that my mom had cancer because she is a Christian and a good person and everybody loves her, even grouchy people...but she does. Then I told them that it used to make me mad that mean or bad people go their whole life without anything bad happening to them and then someone like my mom gets cancer and it isn't fair. But then I told them how you say that cancer has been a blessing and that because of it our family is closer and God is saving you and working through you to help others. I also told them I am not angry anymore. So, basically, it isn't that Christians have it easy but they do have God, and that makes all the difference."
Yes, My Love, is certainly does.
After radiation on Friday and my subsequent post, I went to bed. I would guess I was asleep by 9am...slept until 1pm...got up, did something I don't recall...went back to bed from about 2:30pm...got up around 6pm...bed by 10pm. Please believe the person telling you that radiation is exhausting even if they have lied about everything else their whole, entire life.
Saturday was wonderful! OH!! Just wonderful, I say!!! Had my first photo shoot of the day at 9am downtown. It was with a precious 15 month old little girl and she was adorable. Too cute!
Next, I had a young lady and her oboe. So very, very sweet. We took some pictures and I heard later that she was pleased. I say you are a success if you please an eleven year old who is caught in the throes of body changes, "who am I?", and middle school...and we all know how I feel about the havoc wreaked by attending middle school. Having that young girl happy with her pictures means the shoot was a success. *smile*
Next, I worked with two sisters who happen to be fraternal twins. Both were beautiful and incredibly photogenic. These girls seemingly had a great time. Of course, asking fifteen year old girls to pose is a guaranteed win-win situation.
After the sisters, I photographed two more young ladies who are best friends. I took individual shots as well as "friends" ones. I dare say, these photos are pretty darn good. Of course, when you consider that I am photographing "the beautiful people of the world", it's not really the photographer, is it? *smile* If you look at the website, you will see for yourself, I am surrounded by beautiful people! http://www.walksoftlyphoto.com/ However, what you won't see is that Midge and Babs were with me on the shoots and that is why the photographer was smiling.
Saturday evening, we had dinner with Babs and Ken and it was yummy. Church on Sunday morning and the Kentucky Wildcats won the SEC tournament Sunday afternoon. Woot! Woot! Needless to say, I took a nap and it lasted quite a while. Long enough to make up for daylight savings time and then some...
Church Sunday night for the kids and I worked on the photos until the wee hours of the morn. Ok, ok. Maybe not wee hours, but when you are trying to hang on until 9:30 at night, staying up until midnight is h-a-r-d!! I actually worked on the photos at every opportunity from the time I got home after the shoots on Saturday until just before supper tonight.
You know how they say you should have a job that you love and that you would do for free? Well, I have found it...and it's photography, image manipulation, and telling stories without using words...
Today was my last day of radiation. They gave me a certificate of appreciation and completion. I cried. Not because of the certificate but because these wonderful, wonderful women have endeared themselves to me forever. I was never a cancer patient...I was just Dawn... I miss them already.
I took Beautiful Daughter with me so she could get a glimpse into this profession in case she decides the whole chef thing won't work without her being able to taste-test dishes that are not macaroni and cheese based. The girls allowed her to watch from the safety of monitor room and they treated her with the utmost kindness and were excited that she was interested in what they do. She told me later that she could understand why I cried at the thought of not seeing them anymore. I told her that is what makes a good nurse, not their knowledge of anatomy.
Beautiful Daughter has been fighting a sore throat. At some point, maybe Thursday, I took her to the doctor. She tested negative for strep, but positive for something so they prescribed Amoxicillin, so it must not have been too bad since Amoxicillin is a pink placebo. Anyway, today, Monday, after having the antibiotic in her system long enough to feel better, she tells me she thinks she should stay home from school. I laughed inside because I knew it was coming...not because of her symptoms but because of her love to stay with me during school days. You know, I kept her out. I did not take her to school today and I don't regret it. I will be going back to work in another two weeks and my daughter wanted to spend the day with me. Bad mom? So be it.
I had received an invitation to a professional networking group from Lucy. She and some other people she knows are members. They have lunch every Monday and promote/network each other's businesses. The group is establishing trust in the business community via these chapter meetings and business exposure. Each week, the members give a sixty second introduction of their business and then the visitors are asked to do the same. Let me tell you, when it was my turn and the words came out that I represented Walk Softly Photography, I could have melted. I wished Big Daddy had been there because this was one of those moments you remember forever and I love it when he is with me for those...well, when they are good moments to remember. I wanted to text him and tell him that I had just introduced myself as a photographer, but I thought they would figure out I am a kid trapped in a grown up's body, so I just ate my pickle instead.
Beautiful Daughter and I came home and I finished up the photos so that they were all posted on the site and then we took a nap. There is something incredibly special about taking a nap with your child regardless of how old your child is...
Jumped out of bed as I turned over and realized it was going on 5 o'clock and I had to get supper going. Self-imposed panic because nobody really cares when we eat as long as we do. I just want to be that perfect mom/housewife with the string of pearls and dinner on the table at six. Sure enough, I pulled it off but only because I had already cooked the chicken. LOL Hey, I may not be June Cleaver but my husband loves me, our kids think I'm pretty cool, and our friends keep me close by, so it's all good.
Big Daddy goes back on his regular schedule beginning tonight after a week of dayshift. He is asleep now as I type. Beautiful Daughter is in her room cleaning off her vanity and using the new pink and green containers I bought to help her organize that girly mess. Precious Son is sitting on his futon, playing X-Box with his online friends, narrating as he goes, which makes me laugh. He's always done that narrating thing, even before we went with X-Box Live...not sure where he gets it or why he does it, but he is such a commentator, it really is something to listen to even when annihilating aliens and zombies.
I have made the taco meat for tomorrow's Mexican fiesta while I have been typing and have also finished up the laundry. I am listening to my second David Gray cd and am very happy to be doing so. As it turns out, this cd purchase included a bonus cd with David live from the Roundhouse, so it was definitely worth buying again. However, if I misplace this one, Big Daddy may just make me look a little harder before we buy the third installment of the exact same thing. LOL
You know, I have had a great couple of days and I am so grateful. Someone asked me yesterday if I am as happy as I appear to be all the time. I said "no, actually, I am not, but I am far too blessed to complain about something that has changed me and my life, for the better". In fact, last night as we were driving the kids home from church, Beautiful Daughter recounted this story...
"Tonight the group leader said that some people in the world think that Christians are always rich in life and that only good things happen to them. Then she said that was not true and asked if anyone had an example. I raised my hand and said that I didn't think it was fair that my mom had cancer because she is a Christian and a good person and everybody loves her, even grouchy people...but she does. Then I told them that it used to make me mad that mean or bad people go their whole life without anything bad happening to them and then someone like my mom gets cancer and it isn't fair. But then I told them how you say that cancer has been a blessing and that because of it our family is closer and God is saving you and working through you to help others. I also told them I am not angry anymore. So, basically, it isn't that Christians have it easy but they do have God, and that makes all the difference."
Yes, My Love, is certainly does.
Friday, March 12, 2010
Hello, Friday
I really don't have time to sit here and write but here I am... Writing, for me, has become as much as a therapy as any chemo or radiation. My plan was to not even touch my laptop until I had accomplished everything on my "to do" list, but I am so overcome with emotion, that I feel if I do not write, nothing else will get accomplished anyway.
As you know, Wednesday was pretty darn bad. Thursday was better, much in part to my Cymbalta coming in the mail, I am sure. Regardless, Thursday was better. As I mentioned, Big Daddy has been in class all week. He called me Wednesday around 6pm to see where I was and could tell instantly that there was something wrong just by hearing my voice. I told him I was almost home...I had just taken the kids to church...and no, I didn't really want to go out to dinner. (We normally go to dinner on Wednesdays, just the two of us). I tried incredibly hard to sound "fine" but obviously didn't since Big Daddy was standing in the driveway, waiting for me. He opened the door to the truck and asked what was wrong... It was obvious I had been crying and was hurting. Seemingly, the more I tried to sound "ok" or act "alright", the easier it was to see that I was not in a good place. Before I could step out of the truck, he leaned in, put his arms around me and just said "I love you...let me help you", and with that, I began to sob.
The gentleness of this man, the patience, the virtue...I am speechless. I adore him.
We talked for a while and then he thought I might do well to get out the house for a bit. He took me to Joseph~Beth Bookstore and led me to the cd's. I picked up three...
Brandon Heath - What If We (Contemporary Christian)
Melody Gardot - My One and Only Thrill (Jazz)
David Gray - Draw the Line (yes, my second one)
Then, Big Daddy took me to the magazine section and sat me down in front of the photography magazines and said, "See what you can find"...so I did.
When Thursday morning came around, I felt better and have continued to feel ok since...well, until this morning.
"Could you please tell me how many more weeks I have?"
"Oh, you finish on Monday! Aren't you excited?"
"Oh. Ok. Sure."
"Is that ok? Are you alright with being finished?"
"Well, I guess so, but I am really going to miss seeing you all every day."
And with that, the swell of emotion filled me again.
I am afraid to be finished with radiation...with radiation, I am proactively doing something to stop the cancer. With chemo once every three weeks, it is easy to think you are not doing all you can because the length of time between treatments is so long despite knowing that chemotherapy is an ongoing drug that stays in your body for weeks at a time.
Knowing something intellectually does not mean you can reconcile it easily between your heart and mind...
The other side of this coin is that I truly and genuinely love these girls! They are kind, sweet, happy, and they treat me like a person, not a patient. I love them... I don't want to stop seeing them. It is as if I have become addicted to visiting with them each morning and cannot start my day without them. I feel as if completing radiation means I am alone.
Of course I know better. I know I am not alone. I know I can meander down that hallway and peek in to say hello anytime I like...but it's different now. The girls will be busy with someone else now...making their journey easier and lighter just by being themselves. I probably won't ever go and tell them hello just because I would not want to take away from someone else gaining comfort from them, as I have.
Basically, I am just at a loss. Why do I feel like I am losing part of myself by finishing radiation? I don't know, but that is exactly how I feel.
Shouldn't I be happy and rejoicing in the fact that I have almost completed yet another step toward healing and hopefully, cure? Why, yes, I should. Maybe it just seems that after each event in my health care is complete, I am then one step closer to being on my own in my fight. It will literally be my body versus cancer. Period. What will happen in October when I finish up the chemo???
Gosh. I just don't know...but I can assure you, my chemo nurses will be greatly missed, as well. I just cannot think that far ahead right now. Not as I sit here realizing I have to say goodbye to the radiation girls and what my mornings with them have meant to me.
Dear Radiation Girls~
You give me hope. You make me laugh and smile and feel like a person. Each of you have touched my heart and I am forever changed. I told my daughter that if she wanted to go to nursing school to be a radiation nurse, I would go with her and become one, too. Of course, the fact that she wants to be a chef and not a nurse is something we will have to work out, but even at 15, she can see how you all have touched my heart. I'm am not sure where my road will lead, but I will always take you girls with me in spirit. Thank you for what you do for those of us who need you so desperately...
As you know, Wednesday was pretty darn bad. Thursday was better, much in part to my Cymbalta coming in the mail, I am sure. Regardless, Thursday was better. As I mentioned, Big Daddy has been in class all week. He called me Wednesday around 6pm to see where I was and could tell instantly that there was something wrong just by hearing my voice. I told him I was almost home...I had just taken the kids to church...and no, I didn't really want to go out to dinner. (We normally go to dinner on Wednesdays, just the two of us). I tried incredibly hard to sound "fine" but obviously didn't since Big Daddy was standing in the driveway, waiting for me. He opened the door to the truck and asked what was wrong... It was obvious I had been crying and was hurting. Seemingly, the more I tried to sound "ok" or act "alright", the easier it was to see that I was not in a good place. Before I could step out of the truck, he leaned in, put his arms around me and just said "I love you...let me help you", and with that, I began to sob.
The gentleness of this man, the patience, the virtue...I am speechless. I adore him.
We talked for a while and then he thought I might do well to get out the house for a bit. He took me to Joseph~Beth Bookstore and led me to the cd's. I picked up three...
Brandon Heath - What If We (Contemporary Christian)
Melody Gardot - My One and Only Thrill (Jazz)
David Gray - Draw the Line (yes, my second one)
Then, Big Daddy took me to the magazine section and sat me down in front of the photography magazines and said, "See what you can find"...so I did.
When Thursday morning came around, I felt better and have continued to feel ok since...well, until this morning.
"Could you please tell me how many more weeks I have?"
"Oh, you finish on Monday! Aren't you excited?"
"Oh. Ok. Sure."
"Is that ok? Are you alright with being finished?"
"Well, I guess so, but I am really going to miss seeing you all every day."
And with that, the swell of emotion filled me again.
I am afraid to be finished with radiation...with radiation, I am proactively doing something to stop the cancer. With chemo once every three weeks, it is easy to think you are not doing all you can because the length of time between treatments is so long despite knowing that chemotherapy is an ongoing drug that stays in your body for weeks at a time.
Knowing something intellectually does not mean you can reconcile it easily between your heart and mind...
The other side of this coin is that I truly and genuinely love these girls! They are kind, sweet, happy, and they treat me like a person, not a patient. I love them... I don't want to stop seeing them. It is as if I have become addicted to visiting with them each morning and cannot start my day without them. I feel as if completing radiation means I am alone.
Of course I know better. I know I am not alone. I know I can meander down that hallway and peek in to say hello anytime I like...but it's different now. The girls will be busy with someone else now...making their journey easier and lighter just by being themselves. I probably won't ever go and tell them hello just because I would not want to take away from someone else gaining comfort from them, as I have.
Basically, I am just at a loss. Why do I feel like I am losing part of myself by finishing radiation? I don't know, but that is exactly how I feel.
Shouldn't I be happy and rejoicing in the fact that I have almost completed yet another step toward healing and hopefully, cure? Why, yes, I should. Maybe it just seems that after each event in my health care is complete, I am then one step closer to being on my own in my fight. It will literally be my body versus cancer. Period. What will happen in October when I finish up the chemo???
Gosh. I just don't know...but I can assure you, my chemo nurses will be greatly missed, as well. I just cannot think that far ahead right now. Not as I sit here realizing I have to say goodbye to the radiation girls and what my mornings with them have meant to me.
Dear Radiation Girls~
You give me hope. You make me laugh and smile and feel like a person. Each of you have touched my heart and I am forever changed. I told my daughter that if she wanted to go to nursing school to be a radiation nurse, I would go with her and become one, too. Of course, the fact that she wants to be a chef and not a nurse is something we will have to work out, but even at 15, she can see how you all have touched my heart. I'm am not sure where my road will lead, but I will always take you girls with me in spirit. Thank you for what you do for those of us who need you so desperately...
Thursday, March 11, 2010
For My Husband...
I am working on an update related to yesterday's post, but I wanted you to know today is much better...many humble thanks for the emails, phone calls, texts, and guacamole. I love you all.
This song is dedicated to my husband, whose love knows no bounds.
I more than adore you and only God knows the depth of my love for you...
Only you...
Forever you...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8nQy-aP_Koo
This song is dedicated to my husband, whose love knows no bounds.
I more than adore you and only God knows the depth of my love for you...
Only you...
Forever you...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8nQy-aP_Koo
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Even as the Grinch Feels, So Do I...
I don't cry. I used to cry, I just don't anymore. You know, maybe it wasn't a "lot", but I would guess at least once every two months I would cry? I don't know. Who cares. Anyway, as I am typing, I am crying... Not the boohoohoo, sobbing kind of cry, but the kind where your eyes just fill with tears and you can't really put your finger on any precise cause and the tears just hang onto the brim...you tilt your head so that when you blink, the tears don't spill. Then, they spill anyway. That's the kind of cry...
How did I get here? Well, I have a pretty good idea and some of you will automatically assume I am correct, which I like...even if I am wrong. With the start of a new calendar year, you have to jump through the hoops to get everything back up and running, insurance-wise. I receive my anti-homicide pills through our mandatory mail order system with Blue Cross. No, wait. Prescriptions come through Aetna. Anyway, you have to receive your meds through the mail and you have to get a 90 day supply. Sounds easy enough. Well, it is easy if you remember and remembering is easy if you don't have chemo brain.
(holding face in hands as the tears stream down...)
I cannot begin to tell you how beyond frustrating it is to be unable to recall the simplest of things, facts, instructions, or how to get home... This isn't me... I can't find anything! All I want to do is listen to my David Gray cd and I can't find it!!! Sounds petty, huh? Well, it isn't when you consider that being unable to find my David Gray cd is the umpteenth thing I cannot find, remember, recall, or understand just for this morning. Unless you have been here, you do not understand...you just can't. Well, maybe people with dementia comprehend what I am going through...or Alzheimer's...but I'm not sure if they realize they cannot remember...I do.
So, my 90-day supply of anti-homicide pills have not arrived yet and I have been waiting and checking my bank account online to see when the money from the insurance company has been taken out. It was taken out yesterday, which is good because that means the order has been processed. I have been skipping a pill here and there to make sure they last until my stash arrives. Ah, there it is. The proverbial red flag.
You cannot stop taking "mind-altering" drugs and not have some effect. I know that. I just thought it would be better to stretch out the few I have left rather than be completely without and send my body into shock. Truly, that makes sense. I have been on these pills since the end of 2007...an incredibly, impossibly dark time for me. At the time, the pills were probably more anti-suicide rather than anti-homicide...
The prescription is for Cymbalta. It is for anxiety or depression or to take the edge off of fits of rage while driving around this stupid city...or all the above, I guess. Anyway, I have to go to the doctor every six months to be re-evaluated and have a new prescription sent to Aetna. Done. Went a few weeks ago and all was well...minus the whole updating for 2010 thing I forgot to do. Long story, short...decreasing my dosage was the poorer of choices when what I should have done was ask my physician for a temporary supply until the bulk shipment arrives. So very stupid sometimes...
I was naive to think back in September or so, that I could actually come off of the Cymbalta because things were going so great. I was dealing with the cancer, I was essentially a stay-at-home mom, which I love, and Big Daddy and I are at a place in our marriage where we both feel safe, secure, loved unconditionally, as well as in love. The kids were doing great with all the medical drama and were excelling at school and all extra-curricular activities. Family and friends were close and willing to do anything and everything for us. We were being prayed for by total strangers and found a church home. Things were really, really good despite having cancer...or maybe in spite of it.
So, I spoke with the doctor about getting weaned off the medicine and he suggested we wait until the new year, "just in case". Fine. Whatever it takes to make him feel better.
Having missed my Cymbalta yesterday and another day here and there for a couple of weeks, I have to wonder if I don't actually "need" it after all. If this is how I am going to feel, then forget it. Give me the dope.
I had really looked forward to this week because the kids are in school all day and Big Daddy has in-service, so he is on day shift, meaning I am alone in my house during the day. When everyone is safe, happy, healthy and where they are supposed to be and I get to be in my house alone, I am incredibly happy. I love being in my house alone. I love being a housewife. I love doing all the things to take care of my family...laundry, cooking, organizing, keeping house, and letting the cleaning lady in. (I will forever hate to clean...) I had planned on learning more and more about my camera, playing with photoshop, working on my websites, listening to music, and just being alone for a few hours a day. Sounds so boring, but I was very excited. Having all the domestic things accomplished and having a wonderful dinner every night with my whole family sitting around, recounting their day and then just hanging out with each other until bedtime is what my dreams are made of. I call it "happiness on the most simplistic of levels"...the very kind of happiness so many American families do not get to enjoy because both parents have to work outside the home just to keep their houses from foreclosure...pay for their kids to go to college...eat...
Well, maybe being home alone mandates a prerequisite for me to have full dosage of my prescribed meds in my system. Being alone on this, Day 3, is only making me sad. Now, is it because I am stretching out the anti-fill-in-the-blank medicine or is it because I really don't like being alone anymore?
Not sure...but this I do know: When I am alone, my mind is not my friend. I think about so many things, so many people, so many mistakes, so many hurts and heartaches...not many good things. Why is that? Maybe the Cymbalta is more for depression than I knew or realized. Maybe I never really needed it for anti-homicide control. What if I am sad underneath all this? What if I am depressed and unable to handle my life? What if I haven't handled all this cancer stuff as well as I thought because my "handling" of it was under the subdued protection of an invisible cloak?
What if I need this medicine? What if I am clinically depressed from here on out? What if I have been hiding behind some false sense of ok-ness because I never really realized I wasn't ok?
Oh, God! What if I never really healed/got over/dealt with the mess in '07 and the pills just mask it thus, without it, I would be catapulted emotionally back there?
There is a lyric from Lady Antebellum that says: "Guess I'd rather hurt than feel nothing at all".
Forget that.
I completely disagree. I would rather not hurt. Period. I have hurt enough in my lifetime and have certainly met my "hurt quota" and let me just tell you one more thing...if I have to revisit 2007 many more times, there is a pretty darn good chance I will drive that jet black Suburban off the highest bridge I can find.
I had looked forward to everyone coming home after their busy day yesterday, us sharing our "Father Knows Best" meets "Leave it to Beaver" dinner and subsequent evening together. Well, my life is not a made-for-tv sitcom and so this is how yesterday went down...
Kids got home from school. Had to eat right away because Precious Son had pep band at EKU and had to be back at school soon. Beautiful Daughter had colorguard practice and we had to pick up her friend who needed a ride. Fortunately, I had crock-potted beef roast, made red potatoes, carrots, onions, and salad, so eating as soon as they came home was actually stress-free.
Ran kids hither and yon. Big Daddy gets home from in-service and eats dinner while he is changing his clothes. He is just as quickly gone as the kids as he had to meet Ken to purchase materials for the shop and has in-service all day Wednesday, so he had to do it Tuesday night. Again, I am left alone, and, despite everyone being where they were supposed to be and being safe, happy, and healthy, I did not necessarily enjoy being alone in my home. This was not how I had the evening planned in my head.
Picked up girls at 8:30 and both were in a bad mood because so-n-so said such-n-such...bossy...bad sportsmanship...she's really changed, Mom...not fair...etc...
Dropped off friend. Beautiful Daughter was moody. Exasperated sigh...
Took a hot shower and waited for Big Daddy to come back home. When he did, he asked why I looked sad and I said "because I missed you", to which he pointed out that he was now home and I could look happy again. Well, good point, I guess. "Duh" sigh...
Lucy and her family came over to visit for a bit around 10:15 and then the kids arrived back at school from the trip to EKU. We lost the game which means no Sweet Sixteen for our boys basketball team...but we were only short by one game. Pretty great season. Precious Son came home and went to bed mad because he was hungry, they lost the game, and his dad made him mad by, well, being his dad. Frustrated sigh...
Lucy and family stayed until 11:30pm and we were all kind of spent by then. Thinking I would go right to sleep, I just laid in my bed thinking and feeling sad, still.
Had a dream that my darling doggie, Titan, was running through traffic and I couldn't get to him and save him. I felt sheer panic and even woke up that way. I hate that. I checked under the covers and Titan was there so I tried to go back to sleep, although it was difficult.
Morning came. Big plans again today. I always have big plans in the mornings...
The forecast for the Beautiful Daughter storm was easy to detect as she had apparently awakened with the same mood and attitude problem she had gone to bed with. Forecast says "moodiness with a big chance of attitude" moving in from the west...
Same weather pattern with Precious Son.
It wasn't long before I told them both to go back to riding the bus in the mornings if they were going to be so yucky. I only take them because I want to spend time with them while off from work, but Lord knows, I don't have to, so y'all can ride the bus. In fact, get the big seats so your bad attitudes can sit next to you.
Big Daddy couldn't find his keys which was a recipe for disaster with a hint of panic, which fueled everyone's fire. Eventually we found them and Big Daddy was off to another fun-filled day of learning things he already knows. I was very thankful that he remained pleasant while we searched for his keys because I was already on the verge of tears after the kids acted the way they did.
Before we were halfway to school, Precious Son hurt my feelings/made me mad/whatever, which actually went hand in hand with whatever it was that Beautiful Daughter had said/not said/done/not done and I just felt like crying. I actually could not wait be alone. Let their friends deal with them...oh, wait. They don't act like that around their friends. Nevermind.
Went to radiation and as always, those girls are the sweetest people on earth and always make my time with them so pleasant. Unfortunately, as soon as I put my clothes back on, the wave of sadness swelled inside of me again...and here we are.
You would think it obvious that not taking my daily dose of Cymbalta is why I am so blue and out of sorts emotionally. Well, being the over-thinker that I am, I can't help but wonder if all this alone time has afforded me the opportunity to sit in silence and hear myself. I think I have made it clear I do not like myself...which makes for a mental disaster, doesn't it?
I need a pill. I want my David Gray cd. I hate feeling this way. I hate feeling.
I believe Jim Carrey as "The Grinch" put it best while talking with his darling doggie, Max...
"Max! Help me!! I'm FEELING!!!"
Maybe I am The Grinch and Titan is my rein-dog...then I wouldn't need a pill to figure it all out. I would just know I suck.
"The nerve of those Whos. Inviting me down there - on such short notice! Even if I wanted to go my schedule wouldn't allow it. 4:00, wallow in self pity; 4:30, stare into the abyss; 5:00, solve world hunger, tell no one; 5:30, jazzercize; 6:30, dinner with me - I can't cancel that again; 7:00, wrestle with my self-loathing... I'm booked. Of course, if I bump the loathing to 9, I could still be done in time to lay in bed, stare at the ceiling and slip slowly into madness. But what would I wear?"
Oh, the Who-manity...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ps0hsur52k8
How did I get here? Well, I have a pretty good idea and some of you will automatically assume I am correct, which I like...even if I am wrong. With the start of a new calendar year, you have to jump through the hoops to get everything back up and running, insurance-wise. I receive my anti-homicide pills through our mandatory mail order system with Blue Cross. No, wait. Prescriptions come through Aetna. Anyway, you have to receive your meds through the mail and you have to get a 90 day supply. Sounds easy enough. Well, it is easy if you remember and remembering is easy if you don't have chemo brain.
(holding face in hands as the tears stream down...)
I cannot begin to tell you how beyond frustrating it is to be unable to recall the simplest of things, facts, instructions, or how to get home... This isn't me... I can't find anything! All I want to do is listen to my David Gray cd and I can't find it!!! Sounds petty, huh? Well, it isn't when you consider that being unable to find my David Gray cd is the umpteenth thing I cannot find, remember, recall, or understand just for this morning. Unless you have been here, you do not understand...you just can't. Well, maybe people with dementia comprehend what I am going through...or Alzheimer's...but I'm not sure if they realize they cannot remember...I do.
So, my 90-day supply of anti-homicide pills have not arrived yet and I have been waiting and checking my bank account online to see when the money from the insurance company has been taken out. It was taken out yesterday, which is good because that means the order has been processed. I have been skipping a pill here and there to make sure they last until my stash arrives. Ah, there it is. The proverbial red flag.
You cannot stop taking "mind-altering" drugs and not have some effect. I know that. I just thought it would be better to stretch out the few I have left rather than be completely without and send my body into shock. Truly, that makes sense. I have been on these pills since the end of 2007...an incredibly, impossibly dark time for me. At the time, the pills were probably more anti-suicide rather than anti-homicide...
The prescription is for Cymbalta. It is for anxiety or depression or to take the edge off of fits of rage while driving around this stupid city...or all the above, I guess. Anyway, I have to go to the doctor every six months to be re-evaluated and have a new prescription sent to Aetna. Done. Went a few weeks ago and all was well...minus the whole updating for 2010 thing I forgot to do. Long story, short...decreasing my dosage was the poorer of choices when what I should have done was ask my physician for a temporary supply until the bulk shipment arrives. So very stupid sometimes...
I was naive to think back in September or so, that I could actually come off of the Cymbalta because things were going so great. I was dealing with the cancer, I was essentially a stay-at-home mom, which I love, and Big Daddy and I are at a place in our marriage where we both feel safe, secure, loved unconditionally, as well as in love. The kids were doing great with all the medical drama and were excelling at school and all extra-curricular activities. Family and friends were close and willing to do anything and everything for us. We were being prayed for by total strangers and found a church home. Things were really, really good despite having cancer...or maybe in spite of it.
So, I spoke with the doctor about getting weaned off the medicine and he suggested we wait until the new year, "just in case". Fine. Whatever it takes to make him feel better.
Having missed my Cymbalta yesterday and another day here and there for a couple of weeks, I have to wonder if I don't actually "need" it after all. If this is how I am going to feel, then forget it. Give me the dope.
I had really looked forward to this week because the kids are in school all day and Big Daddy has in-service, so he is on day shift, meaning I am alone in my house during the day. When everyone is safe, happy, healthy and where they are supposed to be and I get to be in my house alone, I am incredibly happy. I love being in my house alone. I love being a housewife. I love doing all the things to take care of my family...laundry, cooking, organizing, keeping house, and letting the cleaning lady in. (I will forever hate to clean...) I had planned on learning more and more about my camera, playing with photoshop, working on my websites, listening to music, and just being alone for a few hours a day. Sounds so boring, but I was very excited. Having all the domestic things accomplished and having a wonderful dinner every night with my whole family sitting around, recounting their day and then just hanging out with each other until bedtime is what my dreams are made of. I call it "happiness on the most simplistic of levels"...the very kind of happiness so many American families do not get to enjoy because both parents have to work outside the home just to keep their houses from foreclosure...pay for their kids to go to college...eat...
Well, maybe being home alone mandates a prerequisite for me to have full dosage of my prescribed meds in my system. Being alone on this, Day 3, is only making me sad. Now, is it because I am stretching out the anti-fill-in-the-blank medicine or is it because I really don't like being alone anymore?
Not sure...but this I do know: When I am alone, my mind is not my friend. I think about so many things, so many people, so many mistakes, so many hurts and heartaches...not many good things. Why is that? Maybe the Cymbalta is more for depression than I knew or realized. Maybe I never really needed it for anti-homicide control. What if I am sad underneath all this? What if I am depressed and unable to handle my life? What if I haven't handled all this cancer stuff as well as I thought because my "handling" of it was under the subdued protection of an invisible cloak?
What if I need this medicine? What if I am clinically depressed from here on out? What if I have been hiding behind some false sense of ok-ness because I never really realized I wasn't ok?
Oh, God! What if I never really healed/got over/dealt with the mess in '07 and the pills just mask it thus, without it, I would be catapulted emotionally back there?
There is a lyric from Lady Antebellum that says: "Guess I'd rather hurt than feel nothing at all".
Forget that.
I completely disagree. I would rather not hurt. Period. I have hurt enough in my lifetime and have certainly met my "hurt quota" and let me just tell you one more thing...if I have to revisit 2007 many more times, there is a pretty darn good chance I will drive that jet black Suburban off the highest bridge I can find.
I had looked forward to everyone coming home after their busy day yesterday, us sharing our "Father Knows Best" meets "Leave it to Beaver" dinner and subsequent evening together. Well, my life is not a made-for-tv sitcom and so this is how yesterday went down...
Kids got home from school. Had to eat right away because Precious Son had pep band at EKU and had to be back at school soon. Beautiful Daughter had colorguard practice and we had to pick up her friend who needed a ride. Fortunately, I had crock-potted beef roast, made red potatoes, carrots, onions, and salad, so eating as soon as they came home was actually stress-free.
Ran kids hither and yon. Big Daddy gets home from in-service and eats dinner while he is changing his clothes. He is just as quickly gone as the kids as he had to meet Ken to purchase materials for the shop and has in-service all day Wednesday, so he had to do it Tuesday night. Again, I am left alone, and, despite everyone being where they were supposed to be and being safe, happy, and healthy, I did not necessarily enjoy being alone in my home. This was not how I had the evening planned in my head.
Picked up girls at 8:30 and both were in a bad mood because so-n-so said such-n-such...bossy...bad sportsmanship...she's really changed, Mom...not fair...etc...
Dropped off friend. Beautiful Daughter was moody. Exasperated sigh...
Took a hot shower and waited for Big Daddy to come back home. When he did, he asked why I looked sad and I said "because I missed you", to which he pointed out that he was now home and I could look happy again. Well, good point, I guess. "Duh" sigh...
Lucy and her family came over to visit for a bit around 10:15 and then the kids arrived back at school from the trip to EKU. We lost the game which means no Sweet Sixteen for our boys basketball team...but we were only short by one game. Pretty great season. Precious Son came home and went to bed mad because he was hungry, they lost the game, and his dad made him mad by, well, being his dad. Frustrated sigh...
Lucy and family stayed until 11:30pm and we were all kind of spent by then. Thinking I would go right to sleep, I just laid in my bed thinking and feeling sad, still.
Had a dream that my darling doggie, Titan, was running through traffic and I couldn't get to him and save him. I felt sheer panic and even woke up that way. I hate that. I checked under the covers and Titan was there so I tried to go back to sleep, although it was difficult.
Morning came. Big plans again today. I always have big plans in the mornings...
The forecast for the Beautiful Daughter storm was easy to detect as she had apparently awakened with the same mood and attitude problem she had gone to bed with. Forecast says "moodiness with a big chance of attitude" moving in from the west...
Same weather pattern with Precious Son.
It wasn't long before I told them both to go back to riding the bus in the mornings if they were going to be so yucky. I only take them because I want to spend time with them while off from work, but Lord knows, I don't have to, so y'all can ride the bus. In fact, get the big seats so your bad attitudes can sit next to you.
Big Daddy couldn't find his keys which was a recipe for disaster with a hint of panic, which fueled everyone's fire. Eventually we found them and Big Daddy was off to another fun-filled day of learning things he already knows. I was very thankful that he remained pleasant while we searched for his keys because I was already on the verge of tears after the kids acted the way they did.
Before we were halfway to school, Precious Son hurt my feelings/made me mad/whatever, which actually went hand in hand with whatever it was that Beautiful Daughter had said/not said/done/not done and I just felt like crying. I actually could not wait be alone. Let their friends deal with them...oh, wait. They don't act like that around their friends. Nevermind.
Went to radiation and as always, those girls are the sweetest people on earth and always make my time with them so pleasant. Unfortunately, as soon as I put my clothes back on, the wave of sadness swelled inside of me again...and here we are.
You would think it obvious that not taking my daily dose of Cymbalta is why I am so blue and out of sorts emotionally. Well, being the over-thinker that I am, I can't help but wonder if all this alone time has afforded me the opportunity to sit in silence and hear myself. I think I have made it clear I do not like myself...which makes for a mental disaster, doesn't it?
I need a pill. I want my David Gray cd. I hate feeling this way. I hate feeling.
I believe Jim Carrey as "The Grinch" put it best while talking with his darling doggie, Max...
"Max! Help me!! I'm FEELING!!!"
Maybe I am The Grinch and Titan is my rein-dog...then I wouldn't need a pill to figure it all out. I would just know I suck.
"The nerve of those Whos. Inviting me down there - on such short notice! Even if I wanted to go my schedule wouldn't allow it. 4:00, wallow in self pity; 4:30, stare into the abyss; 5:00, solve world hunger, tell no one; 5:30, jazzercize; 6:30, dinner with me - I can't cancel that again; 7:00, wrestle with my self-loathing... I'm booked. Of course, if I bump the loathing to 9, I could still be done in time to lay in bed, stare at the ceiling and slip slowly into madness. But what would I wear?"
Oh, the Who-manity...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ps0hsur52k8
Monday, March 8, 2010
A Day in the Life of My Very Busy Head...
How is it already 6am?
No wonder I am sweating with these dogs piled up on top of me.
She is so beautiful when she is sleeping.
Why do the neighbors let their dogs out as soon as I let ours out, no matter when that is????
Jerks.
MY DOGS ARE BEING ANTAGONIZED TO BARK!!!
I love sleep.
Maybe today I can take some more pictures.
How can you check your horoscope and be a Christian? Jesus said NOT to seek out fortune tellers and soothsayers.
What's a "sooth"?
Precious Son...barely fits in his bed at 6'4". God love his heart.
Adoration.
Confession.
Thanksgiving.
Supplication.
The girls at radiation are so wonderful!!!! Every day, they make me feel important and as if they are genuinely glad to see me. I hope they like me as much as I like them.
I love walking my dogs.
Our water bill has doubled because of that faucet dripping.
Maybe I'm not allergic to NutraSweet and Splenda but just the cola itself.
Trash night.
Why are lunchmeat and pizza round when sandwich bread and pizza boxes are square?
I hope trash tv goes away. Why do people keep tuning in? What is wrong with you all??? How is watching fighting good? Or smut? Do you really care which of the four she was sleeping with got her pregnant? Would you be embarrassed if God walked in while you were watching some of what you watch? Turn it off. God, just turn it off... Nevermind. I'll do it. (sitting in a waiting room)
"Do not confuse your vested interests with ethics. Do not identify the enemies of your privilege with the enemies of humanity." ~Max Lerner, Actions and Passions, 1949
Who coined the phrase, "coined the phrase"?
Is he thinking about me?
Need to find out about settings for compositions in natural light.
Maybe I can stop wearing my hats soon. This is not necessarily good if my hair comes back like it left.
Man's inhumanity to man. Hate that. How can people be so mean even under the guise of war?
If I exercise more, I can still eat ice cream. There HAS to be a way...
I need to buy a rotisserie.
Sitara? Ritsara? Simbara? Ok. I know it's at St. Pete beach...
Babs will never know how much I admire her strength.
Is there another word for thesaurus?
How could someone intentionally harm a child or an animal or anything with breath?
I am a terrible role model while in a vehicle...driving, music, phone, inattentive...
Is he thinking about me?
If I had to choose between having them change out the toilet paper roll or remove their shirts from their sweatshirts before putting them in the laundry, which would I choose?
Why do I have to choose? DO IT!!!!
How can people come out of their house looking so stupid? You are begging me to think bad things about you...and I do...which makes me mad because then I am a bad person but it's your fault.
I have issues...anger, emotional, indecisiveness about which issues are worse.
I'm sorry, your bumper sticker says to "Go Organic"...is that cigarette you are smoking organic? And what about that second hand smoke your kids are choking down in your van? Organic? Just checking.
People are such hypocrites.
I am such a hypocrite.
No, no. Please cut me off in traffic so you can get to the red light first.
Idiot.
Thank you for smoking while pumping gas. This is exactly how I wanted to make my grand exit from this ole world.
Why isn't there a light in the freezer? There's one in the fridge...
What am I looking for in the freezer?
Sirata!!! That's it. The Sirata Resort in St. Petersburg.
"I wanna love like Johnny and June...I wanna walk the line, walk the line...til the end of time" (song)
How many people have looked for loopholes in the Bible besides me? Am I the only sinner?
What do people in China call their good plates?
I wonder if anyone else worries about these tv's dangling from the ceilings in WalMart. Every one I walk under I think, "That could fall on me and kill me. Am I the only one who thinks about this?"
I have no idea why I feel the way I do about you, or you, or especially you.
AAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! You cannot be serious!!! PICK UP AFTER YOURSELVES!!!!
No, my name is NOT Anal McLooney. Do what you are supposed to do!!!
I love Girl Scout cookies.
How can I use my admiration and devotion for our military and help soldiers post-tour?
Need to throw that out. Why did I freeze that knowing I would not eat it? Ugh.
Why is the word "abbreviation" so long?
"Now the party don't start til I walk in..." (song)
I love, Love, LOVE my new camera!!!
Civil War???
No, you did NOT just talk to your child that way!!! Give them to me. Now!!!
Why do some people have children and mistreat them while others have only memories?
People find the police intrusive until they need them to intrude.
People. People. People. Race, religion, ethnicity, financial status...these are not the things that define you unless you allow them to. Don't! Just be you...not a label. Diversity is beauty and strength. Your character is your choice.
Ooooooooooooooooh!!! Excellent photo!!
Is he thinking about me?
I hate traffic.
"Come over here-What's your name? Come closer-What's your number?" (song)
Germany. *sigh*
Seemingly there IS a way to justify absolutely everything if you are narcissistic. Good for the narcissists. Bad for the rest of us.
Did that rhyme?
The Horse. God's most beautiful creature.
"I wish I could be as cruel as you-And I wish I could say the things you do-But I can't and I won't live a lie-No not this time..." (song)
Do I look like that??
Check on Mary Jo and Jim.
I love butterflies. Flutterbyes. I wish I had thought to call them that.
What to fix for dinner?
El Toro.
My eyesight is getting worse.
I love photography!!!
Fat chance. Slim chance. Same thing, right?
Would it take and act of God to have anyone besides me change the toilet paper roll?
So many people would be shocked to know my thoughts...sometimes even I am.
Photoshop is like coloring to me...and coloring makes me soooooooooooooooooooo happy!!!
I am so tired.
I love the cooking utensil aisle.
How do they get teflon coatings to stick to the pans?
Will anyone remember me as I want to be remembered?
Maybe it is the Nutrasweet and Splenda...who has ever been allergic to cola?
How can I feel so many emotions about one person and never settle on just one?
Near miss...orrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr near hit?
I believe that women have the right to work outside the home, however, I also believe we, as a society, are paying the price for two-income families, latchkey kids, and keeping up with the Joneses. There was a simple reverence for family when moms stayed home, raised the kids, kept house, and wore a strand of pearls.
I miss my mom. I miss my mom and my dad.
Why do convicted criminals have more rights than victims and why am I paying for their college degrees and three hot squares while they do not have to work because "forced labor" violates their civil rights? What the...??? What happened to all my plans to revamp the probation and parole system along with creating prison systems that are self-sufficient AND incorporate forced labor? Oh, yeah...I remember.
"You're so vain, you probably think this song is about you..." Um...isn't it about him?
Our kids are awesome and so are their friends.
I wish we had five children.
Your procrastination does not constitute an emergency for me. Oh, wait. Apparently it does.
Please don't put me in a nursing home.
Dinner table with my family. Happiness.
I am not who I thought I would be and I am running out of time to be that person...not just from the cancer, just because time waits for no one.
Would I sacrifice the person I am for the person I want to become or be remembered as being?
AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!! STUPID, STUPID PEOPLE!!!!!! STOP SPEEDING THROUGH NEIGHBORHOODS WHERE CHILDREN PLAY!!!
"Imma be up in da club, doin' whatever I like..." (song)
Maybe 30 hours a day would be enough...well, 34.
Does anyone get music like I do...I thought so once. Music is what my feelings sound like.
If he were to call "just to hear my voice", surely, my voice would crack or I would say something stupid. He still gives me goosebumps and makes me feel like a schoolgirl and I still want to impress him. What grade am I in????
I hate the word "goosebumps".
"I’m like a jackdaw cawing at your back door, scratching at your windowpane-Hey throw your window wide and taste the April night with me again-Girl we been veering backwards disappearing down into the murky deep-Baby come on, we’ll be a long time gone" (song)
Need to email Kimmie, Deena, and Taylor.
I'm really a terrible person but I want to be good.
Babs and Midge and Lucy and Elay and Ms. B are good.
Will we ever move into our dream house?
Carla is so sweet to help me. I love her.
Why didn't he say "Yes, we have been attending a new church since December" instead of saying "No place regularly"?
I love a house full of kids and being the "cool mom".
How far away would I have to go to be far away enough?
We will be excellent grandparents. EXCELLENT!!! (No, not anytime soon...LOL)
I love my dogs.
Tomorrow has the capability to contradict today.
I should not be left alone because that is when I am most weak to do stupid things.
"It's a quarter after one and I need you now..." (song)
"The first and greatest victory is to conquer yourself; to be conquered by yourself is of all things most shameful and vile." ~Plato
Live with integrity, dignity, kindness, and love....and share each wholeheartedly.
Uninhibited thinking when all is quiet, kids are snuggled down in their beds, and I am alone as the day ends.
Sadly seeing him off to work.
Why did it take a cancer diagnosis to live?
I love the sight of stars.
Is he thinking about me?
I miss him...
No wonder I am sweating with these dogs piled up on top of me.
She is so beautiful when she is sleeping.
Why do the neighbors let their dogs out as soon as I let ours out, no matter when that is????
Jerks.
MY DOGS ARE BEING ANTAGONIZED TO BARK!!!
I love sleep.
Maybe today I can take some more pictures.
How can you check your horoscope and be a Christian? Jesus said NOT to seek out fortune tellers and soothsayers.
What's a "sooth"?
Precious Son...barely fits in his bed at 6'4". God love his heart.
Adoration.
Confession.
Thanksgiving.
Supplication.
The girls at radiation are so wonderful!!!! Every day, they make me feel important and as if they are genuinely glad to see me. I hope they like me as much as I like them.
I love walking my dogs.
Our water bill has doubled because of that faucet dripping.
Maybe I'm not allergic to NutraSweet and Splenda but just the cola itself.
Trash night.
Why are lunchmeat and pizza round when sandwich bread and pizza boxes are square?
I hope trash tv goes away. Why do people keep tuning in? What is wrong with you all??? How is watching fighting good? Or smut? Do you really care which of the four she was sleeping with got her pregnant? Would you be embarrassed if God walked in while you were watching some of what you watch? Turn it off. God, just turn it off... Nevermind. I'll do it. (sitting in a waiting room)
"Do not confuse your vested interests with ethics. Do not identify the enemies of your privilege with the enemies of humanity." ~Max Lerner, Actions and Passions, 1949
Who coined the phrase, "coined the phrase"?
Is he thinking about me?
Need to find out about settings for compositions in natural light.
Maybe I can stop wearing my hats soon. This is not necessarily good if my hair comes back like it left.
Man's inhumanity to man. Hate that. How can people be so mean even under the guise of war?
If I exercise more, I can still eat ice cream. There HAS to be a way...
I need to buy a rotisserie.
Sitara? Ritsara? Simbara? Ok. I know it's at St. Pete beach...
Babs will never know how much I admire her strength.
Is there another word for thesaurus?
How could someone intentionally harm a child or an animal or anything with breath?
I am a terrible role model while in a vehicle...driving, music, phone, inattentive...
Is he thinking about me?
If I had to choose between having them change out the toilet paper roll or remove their shirts from their sweatshirts before putting them in the laundry, which would I choose?
Why do I have to choose? DO IT!!!!
How can people come out of their house looking so stupid? You are begging me to think bad things about you...and I do...which makes me mad because then I am a bad person but it's your fault.
I have issues...anger, emotional, indecisiveness about which issues are worse.
I'm sorry, your bumper sticker says to "Go Organic"...is that cigarette you are smoking organic? And what about that second hand smoke your kids are choking down in your van? Organic? Just checking.
People are such hypocrites.
I am such a hypocrite.
No, no. Please cut me off in traffic so you can get to the red light first.
Idiot.
Thank you for smoking while pumping gas. This is exactly how I wanted to make my grand exit from this ole world.
Why isn't there a light in the freezer? There's one in the fridge...
What am I looking for in the freezer?
Sirata!!! That's it. The Sirata Resort in St. Petersburg.
"I wanna love like Johnny and June...I wanna walk the line, walk the line...til the end of time" (song)
How many people have looked for loopholes in the Bible besides me? Am I the only sinner?
What do people in China call their good plates?
I wonder if anyone else worries about these tv's dangling from the ceilings in WalMart. Every one I walk under I think, "That could fall on me and kill me. Am I the only one who thinks about this?"
I have no idea why I feel the way I do about you, or you, or especially you.
AAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! You cannot be serious!!! PICK UP AFTER YOURSELVES!!!!
No, my name is NOT Anal McLooney. Do what you are supposed to do!!!
I love Girl Scout cookies.
How can I use my admiration and devotion for our military and help soldiers post-tour?
Need to throw that out. Why did I freeze that knowing I would not eat it? Ugh.
Why is the word "abbreviation" so long?
"Now the party don't start til I walk in..." (song)
I love, Love, LOVE my new camera!!!
Civil War???
No, you did NOT just talk to your child that way!!! Give them to me. Now!!!
Why do some people have children and mistreat them while others have only memories?
People find the police intrusive until they need them to intrude.
People. People. People. Race, religion, ethnicity, financial status...these are not the things that define you unless you allow them to. Don't! Just be you...not a label. Diversity is beauty and strength. Your character is your choice.
Ooooooooooooooooh!!! Excellent photo!!
Is he thinking about me?
I hate traffic.
"Come over here-What's your name? Come closer-What's your number?" (song)
Germany. *sigh*
Seemingly there IS a way to justify absolutely everything if you are narcissistic. Good for the narcissists. Bad for the rest of us.
Did that rhyme?
The Horse. God's most beautiful creature.
"I wish I could be as cruel as you-And I wish I could say the things you do-But I can't and I won't live a lie-No not this time..." (song)
Do I look like that??
Check on Mary Jo and Jim.
I love butterflies. Flutterbyes. I wish I had thought to call them that.
What to fix for dinner?
El Toro.
My eyesight is getting worse.
I love photography!!!
Fat chance. Slim chance. Same thing, right?
Would it take and act of God to have anyone besides me change the toilet paper roll?
So many people would be shocked to know my thoughts...sometimes even I am.
Photoshop is like coloring to me...and coloring makes me soooooooooooooooooooo happy!!!
I am so tired.
I love the cooking utensil aisle.
How do they get teflon coatings to stick to the pans?
Will anyone remember me as I want to be remembered?
Maybe it is the Nutrasweet and Splenda...who has ever been allergic to cola?
How can I feel so many emotions about one person and never settle on just one?
Near miss...orrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr near hit?
I believe that women have the right to work outside the home, however, I also believe we, as a society, are paying the price for two-income families, latchkey kids, and keeping up with the Joneses. There was a simple reverence for family when moms stayed home, raised the kids, kept house, and wore a strand of pearls.
I miss my mom. I miss my mom and my dad.
Why do convicted criminals have more rights than victims and why am I paying for their college degrees and three hot squares while they do not have to work because "forced labor" violates their civil rights? What the...??? What happened to all my plans to revamp the probation and parole system along with creating prison systems that are self-sufficient AND incorporate forced labor? Oh, yeah...I remember.
"You're so vain, you probably think this song is about you..." Um...isn't it about him?
Our kids are awesome and so are their friends.
I wish we had five children.
Your procrastination does not constitute an emergency for me. Oh, wait. Apparently it does.
Please don't put me in a nursing home.
Dinner table with my family. Happiness.
I am not who I thought I would be and I am running out of time to be that person...not just from the cancer, just because time waits for no one.
Would I sacrifice the person I am for the person I want to become or be remembered as being?
AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!! STUPID, STUPID PEOPLE!!!!!! STOP SPEEDING THROUGH NEIGHBORHOODS WHERE CHILDREN PLAY!!!
"Imma be up in da club, doin' whatever I like..." (song)
Maybe 30 hours a day would be enough...well, 34.
Does anyone get music like I do...I thought so once. Music is what my feelings sound like.
If he were to call "just to hear my voice", surely, my voice would crack or I would say something stupid. He still gives me goosebumps and makes me feel like a schoolgirl and I still want to impress him. What grade am I in????
I hate the word "goosebumps".
"I’m like a jackdaw cawing at your back door, scratching at your windowpane-Hey throw your window wide and taste the April night with me again-Girl we been veering backwards disappearing down into the murky deep-Baby come on, we’ll be a long time gone" (song)
Need to email Kimmie, Deena, and Taylor.
I'm really a terrible person but I want to be good.
Babs and Midge and Lucy and Elay and Ms. B are good.
Will we ever move into our dream house?
Carla is so sweet to help me. I love her.
Why didn't he say "Yes, we have been attending a new church since December" instead of saying "No place regularly"?
I love a house full of kids and being the "cool mom".
How far away would I have to go to be far away enough?
We will be excellent grandparents. EXCELLENT!!! (No, not anytime soon...LOL)
I love my dogs.
Tomorrow has the capability to contradict today.
I should not be left alone because that is when I am most weak to do stupid things.
"It's a quarter after one and I need you now..." (song)
"The first and greatest victory is to conquer yourself; to be conquered by yourself is of all things most shameful and vile." ~Plato
Live with integrity, dignity, kindness, and love....and share each wholeheartedly.
Uninhibited thinking when all is quiet, kids are snuggled down in their beds, and I am alone as the day ends.
Sadly seeing him off to work.
Why did it take a cancer diagnosis to live?
I love the sight of stars.
Is he thinking about me?
I miss him...
Sunday, March 7, 2010
No Cancer Today...
I woke up around 8am, after a pretty rough night. Apparently chemo and radiation on the same day is not a recipe for feeling great. I fell asleep before Big Daddy ever went to work...which I hate. I always "see him off", and when I don't, I just feel terrible. I mean, how tired are you that you can't stay up until 10pm to see your husband off? Ugh. Hate that.
Anyway, I woke up around 8 Saturday morning and realized Beautiful Daughter was in my bed. I don't even recall her coming into my room, much less getting into bed. She and Babs had a late night redecorating Beautiful Daughter's bedroom. It looks so lovely. Deep, but bright yellow painted walls, magenta curtains, and a host of vibrant colors in her new comforter set. Pink and yellow...the favorite colors of my parents...
As Beautiful Daughter began to stir, I rubbed her arm and wished her a happy 15th birthday. How did this happen? I just had her... It was a Thursday, she was two weeks late, and the ignorant check-in clerk told me I was not in labor. (She later changed her mind as she dangled from the IV pole...just don't ask how she got up there and you won't have to testify...)
So much to do this gorgeous Saturday as our baby turns fifteen. Her friends will be arriving at 5:30 this afternoon for a cookout, movie (Alice in Wonderland in 3D), and then back home for cake and ice cream... Good thing I got up when I did...
Beautiful Daughter and I got up, got dressed, grabbed the empty propane tank and took it to WalMart for a refill. (This one is our backup tank. You know full well you will run out of gas when you have company over for a cookout and no time to go get a new one without ruining dinner. Fool me once, shame on me...)
Went to Jeff's Car Wash. Wanting to have a clean vehicle for carting and carrying this evening, I thought we would head out there first, you know, before the line got long from all the other people with salt and dried mud on their vehicles.
Jeff's was closed for the next hour. Grrrrrrr. Fine. Too much to do to crack this early.
Went to the bank and made a deposit.
Went to the Party Store because I realized I am an idiot and did not buy enough Nemo and Dorie plates for cake and ice cream. Yes, Nemo. Hey, she's trapped in that world between wanting to be a young woman and wanting to remain a child. I get that and I'm 40-something!
Went back to WalMart to buy groceries for cookout and party. Also bought a chicken. It looked good and I was hungry because by now, it was going on 11.
Came home, put up groceries. Woke up Precious Son because he had to be at school at noon.
Took Precious Son to school after feeding him in the car. Yes, I fed him in the car because I am no longer concerned with the Mother of the Year contest as I was disqualified back in January over that whole "say one more thing to my daughter and I will smack yo mouf" thingy...
Dropped off Precious Son and went back to Jeff's Car Wash. Apparently the place was back up and running because the line was about a mile long. Realizing time is tick-tocking away, I did what anyone would do, and left...circling around, coming in from the other side from the major road, taking a left into the line because the rest of the people were behind the stop sign, and wound up in about 6th place, as opposed 66th. Hey. It isn't my fault I am THAT smart. Oh, and if the people who realized what I did are reading this, I would like to say I am sorry, but I am not, so I can't lie about it. You see, I am also out of the running for Citizen of the Year after the whole "Yes, you can put the Lafayette Mulch Fundraiser sign in my yard but not the political signs or garage sale signs or have-your-man-love-you-by-losing-weight-with-this-simple-yet-unapproved-by-the-FDA-pill signs" fiasco which may or may not have resulted in someone having a pile of of signs in their front yard denoting above-mentioned garage sale. Hey! It's not my fault I know who you are, you psycho-sign man!
Next.
Left Jeff's and went back to WalMart, and yes, this would be the third trip there, to see if the cake was done. It was!! YAY!! Left WalMart and took cake home.
Sun was shining brightly, drove in shock that I even remembered what the sun looked like.
Babs came over and she and Beautiful Daughter worked in the pink and yellow room while I fixed hotdog chili and a few other things. You see, on Sunday, we are having pork loin, restaurant style potatoes, baked beans, salad, and whatever leftovers we have from the party because Precious Son does not like pork. *feel free to insert groan here, if you are the one in charge of feeding your persnickety eaters, like I am*
Made hotdog chili.
Boiled red potatoes thus beginning Stage 1 of restaurant style potato creation.
Washed lettuce, tomatoes.
Sliced Vidalia onions, tomatoes, green onions, lettuce.
Began baked beans.
Washed dishes as I went along.
Checked the mail. Nothing yet.
Ate some of that chicken I bought four hours ago when I was starving four hours ago.
Set out sturdy plastic plates, cups, forks, knives, spoons.
De-boned the rotisserie chicken.
Kissed Big Daddy goodbye as he left out on his Harley, barely able to contain his excitement about being able to ride...you know, it's been so long thanks to me. =o(
Went to buy movie tickets for the 7:25 show. Thought this to be a grand idea as two weeks ago when "Dear John" came out, I wound up dropping the girls off, picking them up, dropping them off, picking them up, and dropping them off and picking them up because each show was sold out. Not this time!! Fool me once...
Checked the mail. Still nothing.
Cracked ice. Refilled trays because I am a firm believer in putting water in the ice trays after cracking ice. I know. Call me crazy. It's right up there with changing out the toilet paper roll...
Picked up the house, meaning, I arranged the couch pillows because I have a wonderful cleaning lady now and there isn't that much to do.
Looked for my new candle.
Realized while looking for my new candle that I did not know where I put the birthday candles I had just bought.
Looked for birthday candles.
Checked mail. Nothing. Where is he????
Worried that everyone may not like chocolate cake, went back to Walmart and picked up white cake cupcakes. Trip #4.
Took a shower.
Found my new candle, still hunted for birthday candles.
Was finally invited to see Beautiful Daughter's room after she and Babs had worked so hard in it and it was lovely!!!
Big Daddy came home and helped Babs set up Beautiful Daughter's new bed, which was a gift from the most amazingly generous, loving, kind, and gracious person we know.
Becca came over and applied lip plumper on her lips that she bought at Sephora while trying to figure out if the main ingredient is snake venom.
Looked for birthday candles.
Checked mail. Are you freaking kidding me??!!?!?!??!?
Went to pick up Precious Son from school and napped in truck while I waited because by now, say, 4pm, I was exhausted, my back hurt, and I was about to collapse.
Came home, instructed Precious Son to pick up his room.
Mail came. YAY!!
Guests began to arrive at 5:15.
Babs went home to take her son to baseball practice...but she would be back as soon as she could.
Found the birthday candles. YAY!!!
Cracked more ice and STILL put more water in the trays. Rebel.
Put three bags of french fries in the oven.
Had Big Daddy start the grill, for he is the Grill Master.
Precious Son picked up Dylan.
Thanked God for Precious Son passing his driver's road test on the first try after having his appointment cancelled four times due to snow.
Said grace.
Helped 10 teenagers fix their hotdogs, hamburgers, and drinks. Gave them all paper plates.
Fed Big Daddy.
Sat down. Got up. Had realized I HAD purchased sturdy plastic plates and that there was no need to try and fit all that food including baked beans on paper plates!!!
Made kids switch to sturdy plastic plates...yes, at this point it was more for general purposes than need, but...that's me.
Cleaned up.
Packed the truck with giggly girls as they all put on their 3D glasses and headed to the movie theater.
Big Daddy tried to nap before work as several teenage boys played football in the yard and X-Box in the house.
Babs and her son came over and ate dinner. I felt bad because Big Daddy had put everything away while I was running the girls to the movies, and I had to get everything out again. I was afraid he would think I didn't appreciate his help, but I truly, truly did!!
Talked with Babs and son until the other boys took Babs' son away to play games...then talked to Babs. She was getting excited because her hubby, Ken, would be coming home on Sunday and she missed him.
Cracked more ice. Filled more ice trays. Still such the rebel.
Feeling said rebellion, went to bathroom to check the status of the toilet paper roll.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Changed toilet paper roll.
Texted Lucy and her crew about coming for cake and ice cream.
Brought out Nemo and Dorie cake, took pictures of cake, cupcakes, gift bags, and the like.
Set out the ice cream to soften a bit while Babs and I went to pick up the girls.
Picked up girls and laughed as Lucy and crew went into my house but were convinced no one was there, despite several people being there but too afraid to wake Big Daddy, so they were very, very quiet.
Laughed out loud.
Gathered up girls, headed home from theater.
Wished I had cotton for my ears with that high squeal pitch that only teenage girls can emit...Kind of like bats.
Came home, brought everyone together, sang Happy Birthday to our baby girl.
The joy lasted approximately 15 seconds until T-Hawk blew out her last candle.
Mentally reminisced about how Beautiful Daughter and T-Hawk have been the thorn in each other's side since first grade.
Smiled broadly.
Cut the cake.
Scooped the ice cream.
Poured the drinks.
No one wanted white cake cupcakes.
Beautiful Daughter opened presents and lit up the room with her humor, smile, and graciousness.
Realized I might be biased about my kids.
Kissed Big Daddy goodbye as he went off to work.
Took lots of pictures.
Cleaned up the kitchen, yet again.
Listened as the walls of my home echoed with laughter.
Thanked God for the opportunity to be here...at this time...on this day...
Made "to-go" plates for our guests to take with them, including a dozen, white cake cupcakes.
Began the chauffeur service and took everyone home.
Talked with Babs and went to bed.
Laid in bed, feeling utter fatigue and incredibly blessed for this busy, busy day. The kind of day where I was too busy to have cancer because I was being a wife, mom, friend, chauffeur and WalMart consumer.
Got up to put pork loin in crock pot because it was now going on 1am and we will be eating at noon...
Yep. I just don't have time to have cancer.
Anyway, I woke up around 8 Saturday morning and realized Beautiful Daughter was in my bed. I don't even recall her coming into my room, much less getting into bed. She and Babs had a late night redecorating Beautiful Daughter's bedroom. It looks so lovely. Deep, but bright yellow painted walls, magenta curtains, and a host of vibrant colors in her new comforter set. Pink and yellow...the favorite colors of my parents...
As Beautiful Daughter began to stir, I rubbed her arm and wished her a happy 15th birthday. How did this happen? I just had her... It was a Thursday, she was two weeks late, and the ignorant check-in clerk told me I was not in labor. (She later changed her mind as she dangled from the IV pole...just don't ask how she got up there and you won't have to testify...)
So much to do this gorgeous Saturday as our baby turns fifteen. Her friends will be arriving at 5:30 this afternoon for a cookout, movie (Alice in Wonderland in 3D), and then back home for cake and ice cream... Good thing I got up when I did...
Beautiful Daughter and I got up, got dressed, grabbed the empty propane tank and took it to WalMart for a refill. (This one is our backup tank. You know full well you will run out of gas when you have company over for a cookout and no time to go get a new one without ruining dinner. Fool me once, shame on me...)
Went to Jeff's Car Wash. Wanting to have a clean vehicle for carting and carrying this evening, I thought we would head out there first, you know, before the line got long from all the other people with salt and dried mud on their vehicles.
Jeff's was closed for the next hour. Grrrrrrr. Fine. Too much to do to crack this early.
Went to the bank and made a deposit.
Went to the Party Store because I realized I am an idiot and did not buy enough Nemo and Dorie plates for cake and ice cream. Yes, Nemo. Hey, she's trapped in that world between wanting to be a young woman and wanting to remain a child. I get that and I'm 40-something!
Went back to WalMart to buy groceries for cookout and party. Also bought a chicken. It looked good and I was hungry because by now, it was going on 11.
Came home, put up groceries. Woke up Precious Son because he had to be at school at noon.
Took Precious Son to school after feeding him in the car. Yes, I fed him in the car because I am no longer concerned with the Mother of the Year contest as I was disqualified back in January over that whole "say one more thing to my daughter and I will smack yo mouf" thingy...
Dropped off Precious Son and went back to Jeff's Car Wash. Apparently the place was back up and running because the line was about a mile long. Realizing time is tick-tocking away, I did what anyone would do, and left...circling around, coming in from the other side from the major road, taking a left into the line because the rest of the people were behind the stop sign, and wound up in about 6th place, as opposed 66th. Hey. It isn't my fault I am THAT smart. Oh, and if the people who realized what I did are reading this, I would like to say I am sorry, but I am not, so I can't lie about it. You see, I am also out of the running for Citizen of the Year after the whole "Yes, you can put the Lafayette Mulch Fundraiser sign in my yard but not the political signs or garage sale signs or have-your-man-love-you-by-losing-weight-with-this-simple-yet-unapproved-by-the-FDA-pill signs" fiasco which may or may not have resulted in someone having a pile of of signs in their front yard denoting above-mentioned garage sale. Hey! It's not my fault I know who you are, you psycho-sign man!
Next.
Left Jeff's and went back to WalMart, and yes, this would be the third trip there, to see if the cake was done. It was!! YAY!! Left WalMart and took cake home.
Sun was shining brightly, drove in shock that I even remembered what the sun looked like.
Babs came over and she and Beautiful Daughter worked in the pink and yellow room while I fixed hotdog chili and a few other things. You see, on Sunday, we are having pork loin, restaurant style potatoes, baked beans, salad, and whatever leftovers we have from the party because Precious Son does not like pork. *feel free to insert groan here, if you are the one in charge of feeding your persnickety eaters, like I am*
Made hotdog chili.
Boiled red potatoes thus beginning Stage 1 of restaurant style potato creation.
Washed lettuce, tomatoes.
Sliced Vidalia onions, tomatoes, green onions, lettuce.
Began baked beans.
Washed dishes as I went along.
Checked the mail. Nothing yet.
Ate some of that chicken I bought four hours ago when I was starving four hours ago.
Set out sturdy plastic plates, cups, forks, knives, spoons.
De-boned the rotisserie chicken.
Kissed Big Daddy goodbye as he left out on his Harley, barely able to contain his excitement about being able to ride...you know, it's been so long thanks to me. =o(
Went to buy movie tickets for the 7:25 show. Thought this to be a grand idea as two weeks ago when "Dear John" came out, I wound up dropping the girls off, picking them up, dropping them off, picking them up, and dropping them off and picking them up because each show was sold out. Not this time!! Fool me once...
Checked the mail. Still nothing.
Cracked ice. Refilled trays because I am a firm believer in putting water in the ice trays after cracking ice. I know. Call me crazy. It's right up there with changing out the toilet paper roll...
Picked up the house, meaning, I arranged the couch pillows because I have a wonderful cleaning lady now and there isn't that much to do.
Looked for my new candle.
Realized while looking for my new candle that I did not know where I put the birthday candles I had just bought.
Looked for birthday candles.
Checked mail. Nothing. Where is he????
Worried that everyone may not like chocolate cake, went back to Walmart and picked up white cake cupcakes. Trip #4.
Took a shower.
Found my new candle, still hunted for birthday candles.
Was finally invited to see Beautiful Daughter's room after she and Babs had worked so hard in it and it was lovely!!!
Big Daddy came home and helped Babs set up Beautiful Daughter's new bed, which was a gift from the most amazingly generous, loving, kind, and gracious person we know.
Becca came over and applied lip plumper on her lips that she bought at Sephora while trying to figure out if the main ingredient is snake venom.
Looked for birthday candles.
Checked mail. Are you freaking kidding me??!!?!?!??!?
Went to pick up Precious Son from school and napped in truck while I waited because by now, say, 4pm, I was exhausted, my back hurt, and I was about to collapse.
Came home, instructed Precious Son to pick up his room.
Mail came. YAY!!
Guests began to arrive at 5:15.
Babs went home to take her son to baseball practice...but she would be back as soon as she could.
Found the birthday candles. YAY!!!
Cracked more ice and STILL put more water in the trays. Rebel.
Put three bags of french fries in the oven.
Had Big Daddy start the grill, for he is the Grill Master.
Precious Son picked up Dylan.
Thanked God for Precious Son passing his driver's road test on the first try after having his appointment cancelled four times due to snow.
Said grace.
Helped 10 teenagers fix their hotdogs, hamburgers, and drinks. Gave them all paper plates.
Fed Big Daddy.
Sat down. Got up. Had realized I HAD purchased sturdy plastic plates and that there was no need to try and fit all that food including baked beans on paper plates!!!
Made kids switch to sturdy plastic plates...yes, at this point it was more for general purposes than need, but...that's me.
Cleaned up.
Packed the truck with giggly girls as they all put on their 3D glasses and headed to the movie theater.
Big Daddy tried to nap before work as several teenage boys played football in the yard and X-Box in the house.
Babs and her son came over and ate dinner. I felt bad because Big Daddy had put everything away while I was running the girls to the movies, and I had to get everything out again. I was afraid he would think I didn't appreciate his help, but I truly, truly did!!
Talked with Babs and son until the other boys took Babs' son away to play games...then talked to Babs. She was getting excited because her hubby, Ken, would be coming home on Sunday and she missed him.
Cracked more ice. Filled more ice trays. Still such the rebel.
Feeling said rebellion, went to bathroom to check the status of the toilet paper roll.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Changed toilet paper roll.
Texted Lucy and her crew about coming for cake and ice cream.
Brought out Nemo and Dorie cake, took pictures of cake, cupcakes, gift bags, and the like.
Set out the ice cream to soften a bit while Babs and I went to pick up the girls.
Picked up girls and laughed as Lucy and crew went into my house but were convinced no one was there, despite several people being there but too afraid to wake Big Daddy, so they were very, very quiet.
Laughed out loud.
Gathered up girls, headed home from theater.
Wished I had cotton for my ears with that high squeal pitch that only teenage girls can emit...Kind of like bats.
Came home, brought everyone together, sang Happy Birthday to our baby girl.
The joy lasted approximately 15 seconds until T-Hawk blew out her last candle.
Mentally reminisced about how Beautiful Daughter and T-Hawk have been the thorn in each other's side since first grade.
Smiled broadly.
Cut the cake.
Scooped the ice cream.
Poured the drinks.
No one wanted white cake cupcakes.
Beautiful Daughter opened presents and lit up the room with her humor, smile, and graciousness.
Realized I might be biased about my kids.
Kissed Big Daddy goodbye as he went off to work.
Took lots of pictures.
Cleaned up the kitchen, yet again.
Listened as the walls of my home echoed with laughter.
Thanked God for the opportunity to be here...at this time...on this day...
Made "to-go" plates for our guests to take with them, including a dozen, white cake cupcakes.
Began the chauffeur service and took everyone home.
Talked with Babs and went to bed.
Laid in bed, feeling utter fatigue and incredibly blessed for this busy, busy day. The kind of day where I was too busy to have cancer because I was being a wife, mom, friend, chauffeur and WalMart consumer.
Got up to put pork loin in crock pot because it was now going on 1am and we will be eating at noon...
Yep. I just don't have time to have cancer.
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