It’s Wal-Mart’s Fault

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BrowniesThe hubs has gone south this weekend to the Texas Hill Country to see his parents.  The dogs and I stayed at home.  This means I will have three very quiet days.  So this weekend will be some much needed down time for me.  Of course I still need to pick up the house and do laundry, but I am ready for a long, relaxing, no stress weekend.   Guess I should not have gone to Wal-Mart then…..

If you are lucky enough to live in a town with lots of grocery options, good for you.  That is not my experience.  In fact, the hubs does most of our grocery shopping and after today, I am remembering why.  We have a couple of grocery options, Homeland, which is pricier and I can never find anything there.  But when I’m desperate I do go there.  The other two options, you have to bring your own sacks and they don’t take debit cards.  That’s right, they don’t take debit cards.  Well that means, I don’t go there.  So 9 times out of 10, I make the trek into my local Wal-Mart, when I have to.

With the hubs gone, I wanted to make myself something yummy that I can eat on all weekend.  I chose my pasta primavera.  So I spent a nice quiet morning at home.  I did a couple of loads of laundry, watched several episodes of Say Yes to the Dress and then I decided it was time to do it.  It’s time to tackle Wal-Mart.

With my comfiest flip flops on I head out.  The first thing I notice is that the parking lot is pretty full.  Not a good sign.  I mean it’s not payday weekend so why is everyone here.  Instead of trolling up and down the isles in the parking lot looking for a space up close, I decide to park way out by the street and walk.  You know, get a little exercise in, make my Fitbit stand up and notice me.  Well crap, I forgot to put the Fitbit on.  Oh well, I know I’m getting in extra steps.

Two steps out of my car and I see them.  Over the past month or so, every time I go to our mall or grocery store, there are men walking around in the parking lots “giving away” loaves of homemade banana bread, for a donation.  The hubs and I stumbled upon some of them a few weeks ago and before we could escape, we heard the sales pitch.  They are recovering drug addicts trying to make their way in the world and don’t we want to help them out by taking one of their loaves of banana bread?  Um, no I do not.

So I see two of them up ahead of me and they are approaching people with their sales pitch.  Now, these guys frighten me.  I’m sorry, but they do.  And you know, they should never approach a woman in a parking lot.  Right?  One of my pet peeves is going to a store, only to find people set up right outside of the store selling something and asking me to buy it when I go into the store and then again when I come out.  So you can imagine how I feel about being approached by a man who tells me he is a recovering drug addict out in the parking lot without my husband….  I’m not very sympathetic and I am not about to accept a loaf of their banana bread.

Well that pretty much set the tone for the rest of my time in Wal-Mart.  This was one of those days when people went down the isles two buggies side by side blocking everybody’s way.  Or people would be stopped with their buggies talking and getting caught up with each other, again blocking the isle.  Hey, if you really want to talk, go out to the parking lot.  There are some guys out there who can give you some banana bread.

I have made so many detours in the store and waited behind so many buggies, that my stress level is pretty high.  I’m supposed to be having a quiet, low key weekend right?  I have everything I need, now I just need to get to the checkout counter and get out.  But wait, there it was.  Calling my name.  Really it was kind of screaming my name.  I’m shocked that everyone in the store didn’t turn and look.  What was it you asked?  It was an opportunity.  No it wasn’t, it was an indulgence and I needed an indulgence.  It was …… a big beautiful box of brownie mix!!!!  What goes good in brownie mix?  PECAN PIECES!!!!! Yep, got them too.  At this point I am just going to say it.  It’s Wal-Mart’s fault that I am buying brownie mix.  What’s a girl to do when she is all stressed out?  Isn’t chocolate our friend during these times? And who doesn’t love nuts with their brownies.

Now the task of finding the right checkout line.  I’m notorious for getting in the shortest, but slowest line.  But I hate to get in the longest line and hope it is the fastest.  What to do, what to do.  Hey there’s one and I can actually see the conveyor belt.  I’m wondering if it is a trick.  I’m kind of looking around, no one is running towards it.  Do I dare get in this line?  Oh I am just going to go for it.  I put my items on the belt and waited for my turn.  Hell did not freeze over and I zipped right through.  A young man by the name of Chris checked me out and when he handed me my receipt, told me to have a nice day.  Well ok Chris, I think I will.    Brownies anyone?

August 9

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We Mom & Dadall have those days on our calendar representing life-changing events.  When that date rolls around you stop and remember whatever that significant event was for you.  Today, August 9 is a double whammy for me.  Six years ago today my mother passed away and two years ago today we buried my dad.  Just think about that for a minute.  Both of those massive, life changing events happening on August 9.

So today I have done some crying and some remembering about two people that were the most wonderful parents in the entire world.  Working in the field of education, I see first-hand every day children who are having a very different upbringing than I had.  My own children had a very different upbringing than I had and for many years that haunted me.  As a young mother, I wanted to give my children everything my parents had given me.  A home with two loving parents and parents who made their children a priority.  Well what my children got was one parent and two grandparents who loved them more than life itself.  My parents picked me up, dusted me off and stepped in to help me with a 3 and 6 year old when I moved home from a divorce.  It was such a blessing to have them in our lives and to help me be the best parent I could be.

I have so many wonderful childhood memories.  My parents were married almost 11 years before I came along and I was their only child.  Was I spoiled?  Sure I was.  There was nothing my father would not do for me when I batted my big blue eyes at him and we both knew it.    “Daddy, I saw a pair of shoes I really liked at the Den.”  “Well how much do you need,” he would say and reach in his pocket and hand me the money.  Of course he didn’t know that my mother had already told me I couldn’t have those shoes.  Next day when she saw me wearing them she asked, “Where did you get those shoes?”  My reply, “Daddy bought them for me.”  Now I have spent the last 40 years of my life thinking that I pulled one over one her with those shoes, but knowing my mother, I probably didn’t.

Dad BowlingMy dad ran the bowling center here in our town for 33 years.  Everyone in town knew him.  He worked a lot of evenings during leagues and many of those leagues were women’s leagues.  Now I always thought my dad was very attractive.  I would be at the bowling alley with him on many of those evenings and the ladies loved to flirt with him.  I can remember how angry it made me that they dared to flirt with MY DADDY.  Didn’t they know he was happily married to a wonderful woman?  I can remember asking my mother about it once.  Apparently I had a bit of a jealousy problem, and according to my mother, there was nothing I needed to worry about.  I guess she was right, they were happily married for 60 years.

My mom was the disciplinarian.  I can remember one time when I was around 6 I did somethinMom & Meg I should not have done and she was going to spank me.  Yes, I was spanked and I survived.  I remember her chasing me with a 12” ruler.  I ran into my room, jumped on my bed and got over by the wall.  I avoided the ruler.  Whew.  I can probably count the times on one hand when I actually got a spanking.  As a 12 year old I got a little lippy one time and stuck my tongue out at her when she turned her back on me.  Well as you can imagine, she turned around and caught me.  She made me stand there with my tongue out for what seemed like forever.  Oh, did you ever have to put your nose in the corner of the room and just stand there.  What a hoot.  Do you wonder how my dad got me to behave?  Well all he had to do was say, “Well the next time I go somewhere, I guess you won’t be going with me.”  Curses.  I couldn’t have that now could I?

My parents were as different as night and day and I like to think I am a good mixture of the two of them.  When I was younger, I tended to be more like my dad in my thoughts and actions.  But the minute I became a mother, I completely understood my mother.  It was like a light bulb came on and I was changed forever.

My mom was a kind and gentle woman.  She never said a bad word about anyone.  In 1994 she was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease and it finally took its toll on her in 2009.  She was such a strong woman for so long.  The night before she died, my daughter and her baby came in from Arkansas, my son came over and the three of us when next door to see her.  At this point, she was not conscious and hospice had come in.  The three of us talked to her and I recall telling her what a wonderful mother she was and that if she needed to go, we understood.  Then I promised her I would take care of daddy, she didn’t need to worry.  My dad called me the next morning and she was gone.  I know my mother well enough to know she waited for the three of us to come see her and give her that permission to move on.  I miss her every day.

My dad was never really the same after that.  They had had their 60th wedding anniversary just a few months prior to that, but my mom never knew it.  The last two years of her life were very difficult.  I watched my dad decline mentally for the next four years when on August 5, my daughter, son, husband and I gathered again this time at the hospital bed of my dad and waited with him as he took his last breath.  While it was very difficult, we would have never left his side.

So back to August 9.  Sometime that day in 2013, my daughter and I realized that his funeral was on the four year anniversary of her death.  How appropriate we thought.  They were finally together again and I felt great comfort in that.  As a Christian, I know I will see them again, but for now, I will continue to remember the wonderful parents I had.

Random Vacation Thoughts

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Max Sand 1Dear gas station owners between Oklahoma and Florida. Please keep your restrooms clean.

Hey Texas. I love that 75 mph speed limit.

If you wait until the last day of your vacation to take family photos outdoors, it’s guaranteed to be the windiest day you are there.

Did you know that there are places in the south that do not offer “unsweetened” tea? True. I experienced it.

When the guys operating the parasailing boat tell you to watch for sharks, they mean it. Yikes.

If you tell a 6 year old that he will get to do something in the evening and then change your minds, he will have a massive melt down. Wouldn’t you?

Did you know that when you sit on the beach in the sand while the waves gently wash over you, sand goes in places sand is not meant to go? Let’s call it a spa treatment.

Driving through rural Mississippi I saw signs saying, “lookout for long logs.” Now I have no idea what these long logs have done to warrant my watching out for them, but I guess short logs are under control.

When you go on vacation in a beach community you expect people to be a little more casually dressed, but for the little gal I had to look at while eating at the Waffle House. Honey, put on some clothes. Your see through cover up wasn’t covering up anything. I really didn’t need to see all the things your string bikini was not covering and I really didn’t want to see all the tattoos. Made it a little difficult to swallow my waffles.

While on the beach in Florida, I have discovered that there is an area where I am in the minority. I don’t have a tattoo. I have also come to terms with not worrying too much about how I look in a swimsuit. I cannot “un-see” some of the things I saw.

I had been looking forward to an evening stroll on the beach with my sweetie for months. We finally make it down one evening and off we go hand in hand. I’ve taken my shoes off, feeling the warm sand on my feet and OMG is this stuff hard to walk in. My calves are burning. How much farther do we have to go?

I have spent almost my entire life in Oklahoma and have never seen a tornado (and I’m ok with that). Go to Florida for a week and what do I see? A water tornado! Way cool.

Having my coffee every morning from the 11th floor terrace of our condo, just looking at the ocean, does not get old. Hey are those dolphins?

Getting to spend a full week with the people you love the most in the entire world, priceless.

How Addicted Are You —to Your Smart Phone?

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IMG_1784Let’s begin with denial, I am not addicted to my smart phone and other electronic devices. Now for a little reality check.

I am enjoying a wonderful week off from work and am spending it at home. Just relaxing, doing a little cooking, a little cleaning, you know. Yes I did bring my laptop home with me just in case I wanted to start revising one of our student handbooks, yes on my own time. Haven’t done it yet, but I still could. Trying to relax and reboot.

So I’m up at 6:30 a.m. and out onto the covered patio I go with my big cup of coffee and my two dogs. It’s raining here this morning and it is nice and cool outside. No better time to relax and reboot. I get about three sips of hot coffee in me and it happens, I reach for the smart phone. Hey I wonder how long it’s going to rain today, let’s check. Oh and while I have my phone in my hand, let’s see how many emails I got. Well it couldn’t hurt to check in and see what has been posted on Facebook. Wonder if my daughter has played her turn in Hanging with Friends or Matching with Friends. Before you know it, 30 minutes has gone by and what have I been doing? Exactly, messing with my smart phone. I think I may have an addiction problem, but I know I’m not alone.

Next time you go into a restaurant for a nice dinner, look around. How many people do you see looking at their phones and not at each other? A few months ago Keith and I had a date night. We went to our favorite restaurant in town, Café Alley. We ordered and were sipping on our wine when it happened. Keith was looking at his phone, checking the weather and playing a word with someone in “Words with Friends. I gently nudged Keith and said, “you know, if this was one of our first date, I be pretty ticked right now. You are looking at your phone and not at me.” We both chuckled. While I was right, this wasn’t our first date and I check my phone when we are on date nights together too. Good think we are both addicted huh?

Monday I had to take a quick trip to urgent care to get something for a sinus infection. While I’m sitting in the waiting room waiting, a young mother comes in with two rowdy boys about ages 9 and 11. She is the sick one but had to bring them with her. I watched her interaction with them. They were rambunctious boys, as most are at that age. She spoke harshly at them several times but ultimately, she disappeared into her cell phone and just let them run wild. She had zoned out with them and they knew it. How sad I thought. Her message was loud and clear, I prefer to spend time with my phone instead of visiting with the two of you.

On a recent family vacation to Destin, Florida, we all discovered that cell service there is the worst we have ever encountered. Getting a call in or out on our cell phones was next to impossible. Checking our email or Facebook next to impossible. Even when we signed onto the resorts Wi-Fi, it was awful. Is Florida trying to tell us something? Hey people, you are on vacation. Put away your electronic devices and enjoy the beautiful waters of the Florida panhandle.

Then there is text messaging. I was introduced to this new fangled technology years ago when my daughter’s cell phone bill arrived with a $110 charge for text messages. WHAT! We didn’t have a text message plan and each message cost 10 cents. OMG. I got the girl a text messaging plan. But why would anyone need to send a text message? This was the dumbest thing I ever heard of. Famous last words. I love this feature. I may need information from you, but don’t need to have a long conversation. Hey, what time do you need me to pick you up? Want to do lunch next week? What time will you be here? Did you pick up the dry cleaning? I am working late. Can we go out to dinner later? Let’s catch a movie tomorrow….. The options are endless. It is even a great way to let you hubby, significant other or children even know you love them and are thinking of them. You can send these cute little emoticons with hearts, kisses, flowers….. You know I’m addicted right? Here’s a quick public service announcement: DON’T TEXT AND DRIVE.

So the next time you are at the airport, at a restaurant, at the doctor’s office, in the checkout line at Wal-Mart or on a family vacation, look around. How many people do you see engaged with their phones and not with each other? They are addicted too.

Pity Party Done

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  Ok, so today I am better. My friend Jan sent me a text message and wanted to know if I was still having my pity party late yesterday afternoon. Guess she read my blog. I had pulled out of my funk mostly by then so I went next door to Jan’s for a little girl talk. Then Keith joined us a little later and brought over a bottle of wine.   Skeptical but determined I had a small glass. No headache. Yea!!!  Got a good night’s sleep and went for a 4.5 mile walk/slow run in a light rain.  

So the moral to my story, take it easy. Try not to get down when I have set backs. Keep pushing forward. Things will get better. It’s wonderful to have friends. Be thankful. Oh and always keep those big girl panties where you can find them quickly. 

My Little Pity Party

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Mountain Storm BrewingDo you ever just have one of those days when you are your own worst enemy? A “pity party” for one, if you will. Well I am having one of those this morning, and I hate it. I am six months post op from my brain tumor removal surgery and I think I should be feeling better than I am. I am ready for things to be normal again. Please tell me they will be normal again. I am tired of daily headaches, I am tired of not sleeping well at night, I am tired of coming home so tired from work that I just don’t feel like doing anything, I am sick and tired of the continuous rain and I am just sick and tired of being sick and tired. There I said it. Don’t get me wrong, I am thrilled that my brain tumor was not cancerous and that it was successfully removed by expertly skilled surgeons. In addition however, I think I should be able to do whatever I want, when I want. I don’t like to worry whether that glass of wine is going to cause a headache. I don’t like to keep myself from sneezing because I know it will send all kinds of pain waves through the back of my head.

So what has been the catalyst that has sent me over the edge today? Well today is my first summer Friday off from work. We work longer hours during the week and our offices take Friday off. I love this time of year when we get to do this. So I had several things I contemplated doing today to celebrate. Thought about driving to Norman to have lunch with my former boss, thought about driving to OKC to do a little shopping, thought about doing a little gardening….. None of those things are happening today, because at 11:45 last night a headache woke me up and I sat up with it until 4:30 a.m. Took my Tylenol, took my Advil, used ice pack, used heat pack, just couldn’t knock it out. At 4:30 a.m., I stumbled back to bed and thought I would try and sleep again. Exhausted I did fall asleep, but my dreams were riddled with the pain that continued in my head. Finally at 6:50 I just got up again and began the cycle of trying to get rid of the headache again. So here I am at 10:30 and the pain is finally beginning to ease off, but not completely gone and I am exhausted and cranky.

This particular headache is not associated with my surgery. This type of headache I usually get 5 or 6 times a year. I don’t know what it is, why it happens and it really just takes time to get rid of it. Have been to the doctor over the years, nothing is resolved about it. Sometimes the only thing that helps is a sinus headache pill. You know, the kind that has the drug in it you have to sign your life away at the pharmacy to get. So at 8 a.m. I popped one and I think it is helping.

So in November I have a surgery to remove my little brain tumor and of the three surgical options that could be used, my surgeon chose the one that was best for me, retro-sigmoid. Guess what the side effect of having that type of surgery is, headaches. Now in addition to my regular headache issues, I have these as well. The only difference, my surgical headaches are daily. I take Extra Strength Tylenol daily or Advil depending on what part of my head hurts. I use a heat wrap on my neck every morning, evening, night and many times at work. And are they ever going to go away, or is this my new normal?

So that is what happened to me this morning. I just got to feeling sorry for myself and the tears began to flow and flow and flow. I have held it in so long that today was just the day to let it go. Sometimes a girls just needs a good cry.  Eleven years ago today, Keith and I had our first date.  The event that forever changed my life for the better.  Now it’s time to put on my big girl panties and move on.  Today is a day to celebrate, and I just don’t have time to feel crappy.

Thanks for letting my whine.

Just Some Random Thoughts

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OceanIt’s the last week of school in my district and although I work in the district office, I am so ready for this year to be over. The last month has been crazy as it is every year at this time.   I am worn slick. We all are. So today all I can offer are “random” thoughts because my brain can’t process much else. So let’s begin.

Every day when I come home from work I pass a small manufacturing facility which boasts a sign telling the world how many days they have gone without an accident. I always look at it. I can’t wait to see if they made it another day. About six weeks ago I noticed they had made it up to 30 days without an injury. However, here we are six week later and the sign still says 30 days. I know. Maybe the person that updates the sign got hurt…..

It is a sad day when insurance companies feel they know better than you who should remove your brain tumor. It’s even sadder when they want you to foot most of the bill when you decide that they shouldn’t be the one to dictate who cuts open your head. More to come on this I’m sure.

There are days in my office where the phone rings nonstop and my patience is wearing thin. But it never fails, just when I’m about to bite the head off the next person that calls, a friendly voice is on the other end of the line and I feel my stress level go way down. It’s one of our child nutrition staff members who has called with a daily scripture reading, just because she is a wonderful person and somehow she seems to know just when I need it. Wonder who else’s life she changes with this every day?

On the news today there was a report about how much Hillary Clinton made in the last 30 months or so. It was a very large number. The reporter viewed it as a negative. You go girl.

When Keith and I start packing for trips, the dogs know. They begin pouting and sadness engulfs them and me. On our most recent trip, they went with me into the garage as I put my bag and pillow in the back of the car. Their little faces were smiling, their tails were wagging and I realized that they thought they were coming with us. Broke my heart and I shed a little tear as I explained that I would be back in a couple of days.

Olive Garden is one of my favorite places to eat, so when we travel, we look for one. On our latest adventure, we stopped at one in Temple, Texas. It was packed. We got seated and right next to us is a big table of about 12 people. One of the family members appeared to be a boy of about age 8. Now I like kids, but when one is allowed to bark like a dog for about 15 minutes in a crowded restaurant, that’s a bit much for me. In my mind, I really wanted to go over to his parents and remind them that “dogs weren’t allowed in the restaurant.”

When you are driving down the road and see one of those little Kia Soul vehicles, do you look to see if a life-sized chipmunk is driving. I do. Haven’t seen one yet, but I haven’t given up. I know they can drive those little cars, I’ve seen it on TV.

I was recently sitting in the car at the San Antonio airport waiting to pick up my sister-in-law.  I was watching people arriving and being picked up by friends and family. It was fascinating watching their reactions when they saw their loved ones. Some people jumped up and down, some waved madly. Some ran up to each other and hugged. Made me smile.

Enough random thoughts for one day.

A Letter to Presidential Candidates

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BearsDear Presidential Candidates:

My name is Marcy and I live in a small town in southern Oklahoma. I have been seeing you all on the national news lately. Yes, we get the national news here.   You are all throwing your hats into the presidential race almost daily it seems. Some of you I know a little bit about, some of you not so much and one of you might as well move to China because I don’t like you and you will never get my vote. OK, I feel better know. Back on topic here. So for all of you, except that one I mentioned earlier, I am anxious to hear your platforms.

I would love to know where you stand on today’s issues. How are you going to get Congress to work with you? Do you have a magic wand? How do you feel about the environment and what should we be doing to preserve it? How do you plan to create jobs? What is your view on foreign relations and how in the world do you plan to handle this terrorist crap. Again, how are you going to get Congress to work with you? I mention this twice because they don’t have a very good track record working with ANY sitting president. Oh, if only I had a big broom. Sorry, off track again.

I think you get the gist of what I’m saying. Right? Being president is a HUGE job. I don’t think anyone can really comprehend just how big a job, stressful and frustrating it is until they actually get there. I really want to mention Congress again right here but I won’t. Have you noticed how many presidents have gone into office with normal colored hair only to leave with gray hair? I think it goes with the job. My recommendation is that you do what I do, get your hair professionally “touched up” then no one knows there is any gray there.

So as a registered voter and someone who will vote, I have told you what I would like to see and hear from you. I think it is only fair now that I tell you what I don’t want to hear: I DO NOT want to hear you trash talking your opponent. Every breath you waste doing that, could have been time well spent telling the voters positive things you will accomplish. When you trash talk your opponent, it makes you look childish, petty, untrustworthy and stupid. Yes I said “stupid”. If you start trash talking your opponent, I will not vote for you. I will lump you in the category with that other candidate I mentioned earlier that needs to move to China. If you want to be my president, show some class. If you want to be my president, tell me the good things you will do for this country. If you want to be my president, stand up and do what is right. If you want to be my president, then show some compassion. If you want to be my president, then prove to me I should vote for you. Don’t let me down. I will be watching.

Easter Greetings

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CrossesHappy Easter everyone. We just got home from Easter service at our church along with 200 other people in our community. At 3:15 a.m. this morning I was pretty sure attending Easter service wasn’t going to happen. Had one of my 3 alarm headaches and finally at 5:45 a.m., I gave up and got up. I was angry that my head was hurting and I was still so sleepy. I got up, heated up my constant companion “the neck wrap”, put a hot cloth to my face and made a hot cup of coffee. I slid into the recliner, dogs jumped into my lap and well happy Easter to me. A little while later the pain in my head began to subside and Keith gets up and says, “We’re going to church aren’t we?” “Yes.” I replied.

Easter has changed a lot for me over the years. When I was a little girl, Easter meant a new dress, dying Easter eggs, the Easter bunny and hunting for Easter eggs. My grandparents would pick me up and take me to church usually followed by a big family lunch. It wasn’t until many years later that the real reason for Easter landed on my radar screen. As a little girl in southern Oklahoma, my grandparents were really the ones that introduced me to church. They would pick me up on Sunday mornings and I would go with them. Their religious denomination was the only one I ever knew growing up. My best friend Mary was a catholic. I had no idea what that was but I went with her to her church a couple of times as a child and remember dipping my fingers in “holy water” and people would kneel to pray. The priest would say something and then the people around me would respond. Interesting I thought. Nothing like that happened at my church. At my church you went in, sat down and just listened. It was pretty boring to me actually.

I struggled with this particular faith tradition I had grown up in most of my life. It just never felt quite right. I had decided that something must be wrong with me. In fact I struggled so much with it that I just quit going. My spiritual journey became more private and personal. I continued to pray and tried to do all the things I knew would be acceptable in God’s eyes. I had decided that church just wasn’t for me.

On September 11th when the World Trade Center came down in an act of terrorism, I remember being so scared. How could this have happened? For the first time in my life I did not feel safe in my own country. One of our local churches opened their doors for noon time services for anyone who wanted to come in. This was a different faith tradition than what I had been raised in. I felt myself being drawn in and for the next few months, I attended church there sporadically. Still not feeling quite right, still thinking it must just be me. Within a year or so I had stopped going there too and returned to my private personal journey without a church home.

In the summer of 2004 I met an amazing man that attended a church in my community that I knew nothing about. I knew pretty quickly that I was crazy about this guy and if we were going to actually have a relationship, I might have to step out of my comfort zone and attend church with him. I had driven past this church many times over the years and always wondered what in the world goes on in there. It was a beautiful stone church with red doors. So the day came when Keith asked me if I wanted to go to church with him. There it is was, I knew it was coming. Obviously I’m going to have to do this so I said yes.

Here I am almost eleven years later and I’m proud to say that I found that faith tradition where I belong. There was nothing wrong with me, I just wasn’t where God wanted me to be. And how do I know it’s where God wants me to be? There are times in the middle of singing a hymn that I have to stop because I get choked up and can’t continue until I get a grip. Sometimes, like today, when we recite our baptismal covenant, I get chocked up and have to stop and get a grip. Sometimes a tear will leak from the corner of my eye for no apparent reason while I am sitting there. I feel everything when I’m there. When the cross processes down the aisle and we all bow, it is powerful. When we get on our knees to pray or to confess our sins, it’s powerful. When we are given Holy Communion, it’s powerful. When Beth plays her beautiful music on the big pipe organ, it’s powerful. And on the days when the church is filled with Easter lilies and incense, it is powerful. It may have taken me almost half of my lifetime, but God finally pushed me through the big red doors of the Episcopal Church where he knew I needed to be. I hope you too have a church home that is where you need to be. But it you don’t, remember that God loves you just as you are and where you are. Peace be with you.

One Proud Wife!

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Finish Line 2What a day! Today my husband Keith got to cross something off his bucket list. He ran a half marathon. But let me tell a little about why this is so special. Six years ago on March 29th, my husband was undergoing cancer treatment for stage 4 cancer in his left tonsil. Running in anything was the farthest thing from our minds. We were in survival mode. He had three weeks of two a day radiation treatments and weekly chemo therapy sessions left and let me tell you, it was brutal. Every day as I drove him to radiation, I was so proud of his courage to undergo the treatment necessary for him to keep being my husband but it also broke my heart because it was really taking a toll on him. It has been six years and thanks be to God and his amazing doctors, he is still cancer free. We are well aware of how every day is a gift.

So shortly before his 60th birthday last summer, he decides he wants to run a marathon. OMG I thought. He has been running 5K’s for the last several years and has recently bumped his running up to 8 or 9 miles 3 or 4 times a week. Even when we were in Houston getting rid of my brain tumor, he was able to take time out and run for a few hours. Later he told me that running helped him get through my surgery and hospital recovery time. But as we got closer to the event, he began to realize that he just wasn’t ready for 26 miles. Hey, there is no shame in 13.1 miles. Right now I’m working at just running one mile without stopping.

So this morning at 5:30 he is up, ready to go and headed to the bus to take him to the starting line. I got up just in time to kiss him bye and wish him luck. Got a quick text from him on his way to the starting line to tell me that the wind was up a bit out of the south, which might slow him down. I had to remind him that he was participating not racing. He can be a bit of an overachiever and is quite competitive. Oh and hard headed too. But that’s ok, I think I may have some of those same attributes. Probably one of the reasons we are such a great pair.

Shortly before seven my son Craig shows up. He’s excited about Keith’s event and wanted to be a part of the morning as well. We watched Keith’s progress on my Find Friends app. When he was about 3 miles out, Craig and I headed for the stadium, which is right by our house. Very convenient. We waited patiently and then we saw him coming down the road in his lime green hat. Then he is coming through the cones and into the stadium. We have our cameras out and we are cheering him. After he whipped passed up, Craig and I shot back into the stadium to see him make the final lap on Noble Stadium’s track and ultimately cross that finish line.My guys 2

As he rounded the first corner on the track, he rang the bell. The A2A Marathon is a fundraiser for our cancer center. The bell is on the track for everyone to ring signifying that they have survived cancer or are running for someone who did. When I saw him ring that bell I was immediately transported back to Houston. On April 24, 2009, he had just received his last cancer treatment, rang the bell at MD Anderson and we were headed home. I remember praying with all my heart that the treatment he received had rid him of cancer. When my thoughts finally returned to his final lap on the track, I noticed that tears were coming out of the corner of my eyes. This very brave man that I love more than anything was running a half marathon. He is a cancer survivor. He is living life to the fullest and best of all, I am getting to share it with him.