The Living In My Life

I’m looking out our front window at trees (upright), houses (intact), and cars (unmangled.) To say that I can’t imagine the chaos and destruction in Joplin and other tornado-touched places around the country is a huge understatement. I really can not imagine it. Whatsoever. At all.

I sit in my lovely home where I have toothpaste, and oatmeal, and toilets that flush and my heart goes out to the women in those devastated places who have so few belongings that they would probably be thrilled just to find a rubber band in the rubble that would enable them to pull their unwashed hair back from their faces.

As I think of them, I think of the blessings in my life here and now. The unnamed and often unnoticed blessings. They are everywhere—ephemeral and fleeting. They are also unguaranteed. No one can promised me that what (or whom) I love will still be here tomorrow. Because tragedy happens.

We had a bad storm late last night. In the blink of an eye, it could have turned into a tornado. And this morning, I could be the one rummaging through the mangled remnants of our home, looking for precious pictures, old journals, and special blankets from my children’s childhoods. Instead, I am freshly fed, freshly coiffed, and am sitting in a comfortable leather recliner next to a contented, snoozing dog. I am very aware how blessed I am. And I am very aware of my responsibility to pass the blessings along.

This past Sunday, our church received an offering for Convoy of Hope, a crisis assistance ministry that goes immediately to whatever place on the planet disaster is happening. Although I can’t travel with them to Joplin--or other ruined cities--I’m glad that the money our family gave on Sunday can. And maybe, just maybe, that check we put in the offering plate might go toward buying some oatmeal and a toothbrush for a Joplin mom who just wants to feed her family and clean up a little.

It’s so simple, really, the things that we truly need. And it’s so amazingly scary how quickly even our simplest, most precious things can be yanked away from us.

So today, I am making it a point to just be thankful for simple things. To be thankful for life. To be thankful to have a home, a family, a town, a life—all intact.

Although I certainly love my house and am thankful that it still stands strong, I’m especially thankful today that those whom I love the most---my husband and children--are alive. There are women in storm torn cities across this country who were not able to say the same as Wednesday dawned over their broken lives.

More than anything that I might ever do, or ever own, it is my family who puts the living in my life.

And I am thankful.

the post which features a lot of Capital Words

Since I get sorta confused, confounded, and discombobulated when too many things get too far out of chronological order, I am going to go ahead and finish out my Florida Trip Tales before moving on to more recent stuff of the North Carolinian Variety.

So off we go . . . in a most discombobulatory sort of way.

To put it mildly, we stayed plenty busy during our family’s brief visit to the Sunshine State; Nathan and Meagan were so sweet to make every effort to include us in as much Wedding Prep Stuff as they could, since we won’t be there for the majority of the planning.

One of our fun side trips was a visit to The Very Gazebo where Nathan proposed. Nathan and Meagan said it looked a lot more romantic at night with white lights, candles and music playing, but we were still excited about the privilege of seeing The Lovely Place where it all happened.

They even described to us the whole event all over again, except this time they could actually point out what happened here. And here. And over there.

And the best part of the proposal story? When Nathan proposed, they both cried. How sweet is that?

Even during the re-telling, there was some kissin’ . . .

. . . and hand holdin’ going on.

Suddenly though, right in the midst of all that kissin’ and tellin’, it occurred to Meagan that she was holding hands without The Ring showing; she speedily (and quite deftly) made an On The Spot Ring Correction.

Ahhh. That’s better!

We also went to see the beautiful church where they will be married.

Here’s Nathan on the very spot where he will walk out as A Married Man. (sniff) (and also Sniff)

The church is surrounded by Grand Old trees; I am a big fan of anything that’s grand and old, but especially trees. (I’m not sure what Nathan is doing here—just miscellaneously clapping his hands, I guess—but it made a nice shot.)

We also took a trek to the tux rental place where Meagan had brought along her head piece for matching purposes. Since Nathan is being kept in the dark about any and all Highly Secret, Intensely Guarded Wedding Dress Issues, he had to cover his eyes while the salesladies and Meagan conferred. He is such a good fiancé.

I have even gone to great lengths to perpetuate the Great Cover Up by, um, Covering Up all traces of said headpiece with a heart. Am I such a good mother-in-law-to-be, or what?

After all that Exhausting Sitting and Eye Shielding, it was finally time for Nathan to leap into action and be measured for his tux . . .

. . . . and figure out his exact, precise, Wedding Shoe Size. (Picture me Sniffling in the background.)

Then we all repaired to the jewelry store where the Smith Fella and the Smith-Lady-To-Be looked at a wedding ring for Nathan. (picture even More Sniffling)

And then? Then it was time for Our Official Cultural Experience.

While we were planning our trip to Florida, I had told Nathan and Meagan that Sarah--being a sheltered, small town kind of gal--needed to have some sort of Out Of The Ordinary Dash of Culture Experience while she was there. And Downtown Disney filled the bill perfectly—free parking, free admission and fascinating stuff to behold everywhere we looked.

My favorite thing about the place (besides the myriad opportunities for people watching) was a hot air balloon which gave “up and down” rides. (In other words, it didn’t sail off to any distant lands in Fine Hot Air Balloon Fashion.) Once it got dark, it was just the coolest thing to see this huge glowing orb rising over the horizon every few minutes, looking exactly like a whimsical, quirky sun. It just thrilled me to no end. (I’m easily entertained.)

And so ended our Really Cool Visit to Florida where we discovered (yet again) that our son is going to be in Very Good Hands with his future Mrs. Smith. In fact, she’s so wonderful that she not only helped him move out of his dorm room, she also festooned his car with the words, “You have my heart.”

I think they have hearts made for each other.

(NOTE: If you saw two posts show up in your RSS feed yesterday that you can't access, it's because I posted them and immediately deleted them because a "special effect" I was trying to show didn't work.)

Of Endings and Beginnings

Oh dear oh dear oh dear oh dear. Those were the first words to visit my brain when I woke up this morning.

And just why was I “oh dear-ing?”

Well, mainly because I’ve just been through a crazy busy two weeks and I have innumerable crazy busy-related stories and pictures to post. However, since the last two weeks have been so (aforementionedly) crazy busy, I’m way behind on all the other areas of my life (in a major sort of crazy busy way) and so therefore I can’t spend the time I would like on blogging about all the previously mentioned crazy busyness.

Hence the oh dear-ing.

So for this morning, I will just share a few miscellaneous pictures and then post much more in the coming days. (Should the crazy busyness happen to abate.)

Here is a Monday Morning Picture Synopsis . . .

Friday we had a total of twenty people at our home for Steve’s birthday dinner.

I used the same simple chocolate cake recipe I’ve been using for the past century or two, topped by our favorite frosting. 1. two small boxes of vanilla pudding 2. mix with two cups of milk instead of four cups 3. add a small container of Cool Whip 4. stir together 5. spread on cake. 6. garnish 7. remove calories 8. eat

Here’s The Birthday Guy and Son, listening to a song on a guest’s iPod.

It might seem strange to wear name tags in one’s own house, but since we had invited several new people over from the church, we asked everyone to wear a tag stating their name and the first job they ever had. We’ve found that putting extra info on a name tag gives people who don’t know each other something to start a conversation with. (You could also ask, What was your first car? or What is the cheapest you ever remember seeing gas? etc.)

And just so you know: Nathan’s tag said, “Chick Fil A,” mine said, “Cleaned hotel rooms” and Steve’s said, “Foreign car mechanic.”

Another Activity of the Week was dance class. Since Nathan and I are slated to do a mother/groom dance at his wedding reception, we figured we’d better practice a little.

Since I am the non-danciest person you have ever seen, I’m sure my efforts to dance with my son will be the humorous highlight of the wedding.

Before going to a movie on Thursday evening, the four of us climbed Jockey’s Ridge.

I last climbed this particular mountain of sand when I was seventeen years old so it brought back some happy memories. (Note: This is NOT a picture of me as a seventeen year old. Just in case you were wondering. Which you probably weren’t. So. Never mind.)

It was a perfect evening for it; the smoke from the forest fire was blowing the other way and it was a bit cool with low humidity--perfect climbing conditions for someone whose lungs aren’t always at their best.

Of course, Steve and Nathan (being all male and macho) had to show off for the women folk and run (yes, I said run) up part of the dune. It make my whole body hurt just to watch them.

It was such a happy evening; one of those halcyon moments in life that you know you will remember forever.

I will always remember the laughter. And I will always remember the tears.

As we all stood together in that beautiful place, looking out over the sea, enjoying the last golden glints of daylight, I knew we were close to the end of a precious era of life that would never be repeated.

And as much as our whole family adores Meagan, and as excited as we are about her and Nathan’s upcoming wedding, their happy beginning represents a a bittersweet ending for the four of us. And you know what moms do when precious chapters come to an end?

Yep. We cry. Even when we’re not pretty criers. We just cry.

And then we feel better.

And we go back to enjoying the wondrous, simple moments that that make life’s journey joyful and beautiful. . .

. . . and full of precious endings. And beginnings.

Both Ends of His Journey

I dropped Nathan off at Norfolk International about three hours ago; he should be landing in Orlando in about five minutes where he will be greeted by his ecstatic (not to mention happy) fiancee. I told him that he was a blessed fella to have women who loved him on both ends of his journey.

We've had a really wonderful week with him and I am happy to say that I have taken approximately 93,000 pictures--give or take a few hundred thousand. However, at this point in my life, my immediate focus does not have to do with photos; it has to do with tucking myself into bed (very early) for a short book and a long sleep. This has been an incredibly busy and emotional week and while I have ever so much to share, I think it will all make quite a bit more sense when I am rested.

Unfortunately, the nearby forest fire that I mentioned in Friday's post is having more of an impact here than it had been; the wind has shifted and Manteo is filled with smoke. For people with COPD, that's not such a great thing. I've been hacking a lot, and using my rescue inhaler and trying to keep my activity level down so that I don't get quite so breathless.

And what better way to keep one's activity level down than to go to sleep early?

Sounds like a plan!

Husband. Wife. Daughter. Dog. Dusk.

Today I’m doing something new, different, out-of-the-ordinary, novel, unusual and just downright extraordinary.

I’m driving to Greenville! Again. (Sigh.)

The plastic surgeon and the surgical center both need me to come in and look over some stuff and sign some papers (promising them our first born son, no doubt) and so off I shall go, over the river and through the woods, for another 4 1/2 hour round trip journey. When this trip is done, I will have traveled 1750 miles in the past three weeks, just getting to and from doctor’s appointments.

However, it could be much worse; I could be going to Norfolk for all these visits, instead of Greenville. (The two cities are both two hours away—just in opposite directions.) Now I have nothing whatsoever against Norfolk, mind you, but in order to get to the highway going to Norfolk, one has to drive down The Beach (as the locals call it) which is a 30-mile strip of the Outer Banks dotted with stores, shops, traffic, restaurants, congestion, and stop light upon stop light. (By the way, where I grew up in Wisconsin, they call stop lights “stop and go” lights. I just love that.)

However, when you turn your car east instead of west? This is one of the few stop lights you will see!

And the view’s really not all that bad.

If you like that sort of thing . . .

Since I’ll be making that trip many times in the coming year for ongoing reconstruction procedures and surgeries, I’m extra thankful for an extra lovely drive.

Yesterday’s church service was not too terribly difficult to get through, although I still felt myself tearing up at the oddest moments, like during the offering when a quartet was singing the offertory. I just sat there and quietly cried and cried—for really no reason whatsoever. Next thing I knew, Sarah had reached over, grabbed my hand and held on tight.
So nice to have a built-in comforter in the pew next to me.

Steve made the announcement about my upcoming surgery in a low key way, and then moved right on with the service. We hate to draw a lot of attention to ourselves and our situation, and yet we know that our church family wants to stay in touch with what’s going on. I was surrounded by hugs and tears and words of encouragement after the service; we feel blessed to be in a community of believers that is stitched together by prayer and compassion and kindness.

And speaking of kindness, Steve and I have been given the opportunity to get away for a couple days before the surgery date. We have the (free) use of a million dollar, 5-bedroom home on the ocean for two nights! There will be many stresses and adjustments ahead for him, for me, and for our marriage as we navigate these waters; this time away for just the two of us will provide a healing oasis and give us the chance to gather up our strength for the battle.

As for the house situation? We did counter offer, with a price $1,000 less than the asking price. She can take it or leave it. There’s just not a whole lot more we can do at this point.

Steve is going to be in touch with the person who wants to buy this house (if we aren’t able to buy it), in order to see what he might be thinking about charging for rent. That will go a long way toward deciding if we can even afford to stay here on a rental basis.

Steve and I were even thinking about seeing if we could delay my surgery a little, because we’re so stressed about the possibility of a move right after the surgery; however, we’re hesitant to do that because you never want to give cancer any more ground than it already has.

And so life continues to be interesting. And stressful. And blessed. And challenging. And scary. And full of surprises and joy and tears.

But thankfully, sometimes life mercifully takes a break from throwing complexities our direction and offers instead the chance to go outside on a perfect Sunday evening and take a stroll through the evening’s golden hour.

Husband, wife, daughter, dog, dusk. Peace.

Troubles seem just a tad smaller when gazed at under the expanse of a sapphire sky; they seem a little less complex when compared with the intricacies of the dogwood blossom displayed along the journey.

Right now, our time spent together as a family--this Before Surgery time—is extra precious and extra special. Yes, a health crisis is looming. Yes, a house crisis is looming. But towering over the crises lined up at our doorstep is the knowledge that we can lean hard on the love of family, and the support of friends, and the faithfulness of God. We can be assured that somehow, someway, we will get through this choppy chapter of life.

So enjoy a few pictures that show the peace of our evening walk. And know that your prayers and kind words have helped contribute to that peace we are experiencing, even in the middle of this the storm.

And after we come through the storm, we know our home will always provide for our family a safe harbor--wherever that home may be.