Biggest Fear

I did really good at keeping the tears at bay last Friday until they played this song.  I don't even like stupid country music!  But standing there with Tam, knowing all the cancer odds, knowing the stupid disease, seeing my dads picture on the screen, I couldn't stop them. 

My biggest fear. 

Relay Day

Tonight is the Relay for Life.

It is both a day that I anticipate and dread. 

It is a reminder that people win the fight!  The survivor lap is proof.  All cancer survivors take a lap together and wear a different colored shirt in honor of their fight.  When they take their lap so many thoughts flood my mind. I think about walking over to my friends workplace to give her a prayer shawl and how beautiful she looked that day despite her fears.  Tears start to form as I think about the time that I stopped by Heidi's house and she opened the door without her wig on.  It makes me smile to think of when Cheryl and Jess realized at bunco that they endured treatment together so many years ago and joked about how they look much different with hair and color in their skin! How difficult it must have been for Jess to move away when her Dad was still completing his treatment regimen.  I vividly remember when Amy called to tell me that Danny had lung cancer.  I wish Amanda didn't have the scars to prove she's a survivor.  I wish Matt didn't have to have a Happy Cancer Day!  I think about how they fought so hard and won!  Through the treatments, the hair loss, the damaged vocal chords, the tattooed eyebrows, the new boobies, the doctors appointments and so much more.  I can't even fathom what it is going through their minds!

It is a reminder of sweet, handsome Connor who is currently fighting the dreaded C word.  He is already a warrior and he's only 9!  How his loving parents have to explain why and what is going on with his body.  "He's had good days and bad days. Mouth sores, nerve pain and nausea. There was about ten days straight that I think he threw up at least once a day." -Sarah, Connor's Mom You can follow the rest of his treatment here: http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/connorrequena  And pray for him daily.

It is a reminder of a friends dad who has already lived longer than his stated odds.  That is living his life to treasure each moment.  He smiles every chance he gets, rides his motorcycle when he's able and cherishes his time with his family.  Keeping the faith in our Lord above. 

It is a reminder that eventually I'll have to visit the funeral home again because of cancer until the cure is found.

It is a reminder of medical terms and  brain mets.  Out of town visitors and meaningful time with family.  Hospice rooms and final goodbyes.

It is a reminder of the deadly disease that stole my dad, Tammy's mom, Andrea's mom, Heather's dad, so many, too many.

But is also a reminder of HOPE.  

Two minutes before my alarm sounded this morning I received a text from my baby brother: "The emotional weekend begins.  Love ya sis!"  Tonight I relay, tomorrow he golfs in memory of Gary, and Sunday is Father's Day.  The second year I will not buy a golf shirt and golf balls.  Emotional is an understatement. 

With tears in my eyes, I hope for a cure.  I hope that each day I make my Dad smile down at me at least once.  I hope that those that are battling find comfort in His promises to us.  I hope that the survivors know how proud I am of them.

I hope for a cure.

It's relay day.  Remember. Love. Hope.

Crystal Clear

At the beginning of this week I felt like I had ADD.   I would start a project and dig in. Then I'd receive a text about something else and switch gears to work on that. Then the phone would ring and I'd drop what I was doing to turn to whatever the caller needed.  Then my email would beep and I would change tasks yet again.  Then I walked down to the laundry room and wanted to pull out my hair because the piles had not folded themselves or put themselves away! By the time I was done with one thing, I didn't know what to turn to next!  I felt like I was running in circles, crossing things off of my list mere seconds before they were due.

This week I turned brisket mad (that's really, Really, REALLY mad...usually at my hubby) over something that really doesn't matter in the big picture.  In my mind, I cursed a couple toddlers and wanted to scream when they didn't listen to me.  I was offended by an email, that on any other day would have been taken as friendly banter between friends.  I questioned why I blog.  I tried to cry, but tears wouldn't come.  I tossed and turned thinking of all of the things that needed to be completed.

Revelation 21:10-11

New International Version (NIV)

¹⁰ And he carried me away in the Spirit to a mountain great and high, and showed me the Holy City, Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God. ¹¹ It shone with the glory of God, and its brilliance was like that of a very precious jewel, like a jasper, clear as crystal.

During reflection last night, I realized a few things about myself.  None of them are new, but sometimes I forget (Yes, SOMETIMES (not very often) women forget things)!  Sometimes the things that need fixed/tweaked don't have an easy fix.  Sometimes it's hard to tell if anything is even broken.  The thoughts of TOO MANY TITLES that were as clear as mud at the beginning of the week, are now crystal clear.

The laundry, dusting and sweeping isn't going anywhere. I spend a lot of time with my friends, Aaron deserves the same opportunity.  (Even if I don't think it's the best use of his time and even if it doesn't fit in my neatly printed, color coordinated calendar)

These same toddlers that I was mentally cursing early in the week, cuddled up to me so sweetly last night.  I asked one of them if they were having fun this week and they responded with their eyes full of excitement "Of course, my favorite part isn't snack though, it's games, but don't tell!  I want a special treat!"   THEY ARE LISTENING!  Even if we don't think they are, they are! :)  They deserve my patience and understanding...even when I am tired or overwhelmed.

Even IF my friend(s) meant what they typed, at the end of the day, they are still my friends.  They will still love me if they think I blog as an attention device.  They will still join me for pizza and drinks after the softball tournament is done. 

I blog to help sort my feelings, to release emotion, to beg for prayers and support for my friends and family in need, to help others that might be feeling the same way in different stages of life, because I enjoy writing...but not for attention.  I know why I blog and that's all that matters to me.  I decided a long time ago not to allow advertisers on my blog because it's my space.  I blogged for over a year before I shared one post.  Since then, I have decided to share it, but it's your choice to click on the page and read it.  Read it, don't read it.  Read it because you can relate, read it because you're nosey, read it because you're bored.  It doesn't make a difference at the end of my day.

I can't force myself to cry in order to receive that desired emotional release.  Tears can't be squeezed out when it's convenient.  Actually I normally try to suppress them, so to think I could just cry on demand is rather comical!  I was trying to "get them all out" before the walk.  In the back of my mind I knew that's why I wanted to cry.  I wanted to cry alone, in the comfort of my bed. Not in front of all of the participants at the Relay for Life.  But, even if I would have been able to cry, when I see the picture of my dad on the screen, when I walk by the bag with his name, when I reach out to grab Tam's hand as we walk by the bag for her mom, when I witness the overwhelming support to find the cure for cancer...they will come and I will not be able to hide them.

Tossing and turning is not productive.  Worrying about all the things that need to be completed rather than sleeping does not solve any problems!

Some of the most important things I re-learned this week.

•  I have to set more boundaries.  In order for me to be able to fulfill the many titles that I hold, I can't say yes to every request. 
• My friends and family love me even when I'm in overload mode.  (Hiding is probably still the best survival tactic when I've over committed...because I'm sure I'll do it again)!
• Deep breaths and quiet time alone to pray does help.
• Exercise, even if it is simply a long walk, helps to dust the cobwebs around your brain.
• It's ok to ask for help!
• I still have to find time to get a Father's Day present!
• I am so much more than the things I do:) 
• I'm blessed to have so many titles...even when I feel like I have too many!

Lists, commitments, responsibilities...they don't mean anything if I'm not present...It's crystal clear now!

Saying no is an act of faith, demonstrating your belief that you are not what you do. Shauna Niequist 6/13/12

Overload

If you need something from me, I would suggest waiting a couple weeks to ask me (or you might get your head taken off).  Denny can attest to this.  He stopped me one day last year when I was having a schedule overload and asked if I would be willing to help or be on a committee or something.  I didn't even wait to hear the request...the devil inside of me peeked out and I bit his head off!  I think I scared him because he hasn't asked me for help since;)

Completely on overload the next couple weeks.  The planner is always full of bright colors, but the next couple weeks are insane. I am going to practice 'NO' before I go to bed each night and as soon as I wake up in the morning.  So, unless you want to watch my head spin and witness my blood boil, you might want to wait a couple weeks to ask me for any favors:)

I felt like I should warn people:)  And sorry, no time to write!  Still looking for guest bloggers (BF, STOP SLACKING!!)

Tutu-fun? Tutu-torture? Tutu-DONE!

 

We all had fun.  The hills were TORTURE.  I wanted to cry, throw up, and quit, but Amy and Ashley made me finish.  They could have completed the dash in a much quicker time, but I whined and cried and made them slow down!  Aaron was the Warrior Dash Rock Star and finished 158 out of 6,773 participants 24 out of the 1,154 participants in his age group.

I had TWO Oreo Flurries yesterday as my reward for finishing the dash...and in less than an hour which was my goal:)  Back on track today with a salad...Ash will probably try to convince us to wear bikinis in the next one...I better get working;)

We are signing up for another dash in August.  We are going to run in two heats and bring the monsters.  For my friend that doesn't facebook, but follows: Text me if you want more details...I think you guys would like it!  

Nothing like it!

I'm still "training" (BAHAHAHAHA, this is hilarious to me because my sad attempt at getting in "warrior dash" shape is PATHETIC), so this will be a quick post unless the words can't be suppressed (sometimes it's like an erupting volcano when I write and no matter how badly I want to stop, the words keep spewing out like hot lava).

Anyways, nothing like it...

• The first time your baby is placed on your chest and you get to gaze at them.
• The first dance as a married couple.
• The greeting from your monsters when you arrive home from work (this never seems to get old for me:)).
• Unexpected surprises in the mail...the little things.
• Your first kiss

Ok, so my first kiss was not that magical.  Actually, I walked into the girls locker room, yanked about a mile of paper towel out of the dispenser, scrubbed my tongue with the paper towel, and acted like it was the most disgusting thing EVER, but you get the idea, right?

Those moments that can't be compared to anything in the world?  The "Nothing like it" feeling that you get when you experience a moment that can't be described?

Well, I said "yes" again and I'm so happy that I did.   I'm going to attempt to explain why I'm so happy that I haven't been practicing "no" lately, but I don't think it's something that can truly be explained in words.

I sighed as the WYO president asked me to step into the roll of head coach. I rolled my eyes through the mandatory coaching meetings (I HATE meetings). I flipped through the jam packed planner and managed to select a few dates to practice. I checked a couple websites and dusted the cobwebs off my glove. 

By happy chance, I learned to play softball from quite a few wonderful coaches during my youth.  I was fortunate enough to play ball under the direction of Coach Lee and his knowledge of the game can only be described as amazing.   The hours that he spent perfecting our softball game, playing with line-ups, teaching signals, encouraging us to dig deeper, didn't go unnoticed.  We had the record to show his dedication to the game year in and year out.  From the day of our first practice, he demanded respect.  He was giving his all to this team and expected every player to do the same.  He sometimes stopped us in the middle of the game and many times after the game, even after disappointing loses, to point out that this time, these years, each inning and every at bat, would be some of the most wonderful times of our lives. Only much later in life did I truly grasp what he was saying.  Now I would give anything to play in just one more softball game with my high school teammates under the wings of Coach Lee.

With all of the things that I learned from him, I feel much more comfortable as a coach on the softball field than I did on the volleyball court!  I liked coaching the high school girls and learned many valuable lessons from them, but coaching these young girls on the softball field is a completely different experience!  At the first practice I didn't know what to expect.  For more than half of our team, this is the first time they have played organized summer ball.  I know many of my players since they are Lilly's classmates, our neighbors, or they attend our church.  I figured if nothing else, this would force one-on-one time with Lilly.  At home her brother and sister demand more attention from Mommy.

When I said yes to taking the team, I had absolutely no idea how rewarding it would be.  The girls anxiously wait in the on deck circle.  Some of them ask me "If she gets out do I have to wait another inning?" or "When is it my turn to bat again?".  They nervously step up to the plate not wanting to disappoint their cheering teammates.  They turn toward the third base line to make sure I'm still there.  Encouragingly, I yell to them what we have practiced. They swing and connect; many of them for the very first time in a game!  They run as fast as their little legs will take them and they beam with pride as the reach first base.  As Katrina would say,  you can almost hear their heart beating out of their chests! The look in their eyes is indescribable.  To say that they are sparkling doesn't quite do it justice.  I can look into them and instantly I am back at my first high school practice, listening to the wise words of my coach: "These will be some of the best moments of your life!"

So, thank you again to the parents that have sent me nice messages and facebook posts, but honestly I should be thanking you for allowing me the pleasure of coaching your beautiful little girls.  To watch them get their first hits, to watch them slap hands with each other when they make an out in the field, and scoop them up and throw them in the air when they run to me and tell me that they did something well.  There is nothing like it.  The look in their eyes is worth more than a thousand thank you's!  There's just nothing like it!

In Another's Eyes

"Mommy, don't go!" The beautiful, blue eyed, little girl yells.  She is kicking and screaming as she is ripped out of her mother's arms.  The sweet baby girl sobs the entire drive to her new home.  She will be staying with her Mommy's friends for the next 10 months.  She doesn't understand why her mother has to leave.  Her Mommy, the person that has tucked her in each night for the last 3 years, serves in a platoon that was selected to tour outside of the US.  A part of the world that certainly isn't safe for toddlers.  Deployed for nearly a year.

.............................

BOOM!

I don't hear a sound, but I can see the shrapnel and debris falling from the sky like it's sprinkling; raining war.  I should hear the return fire.  I should stand up.  I need to find my platoon.  I yell, not knowing if anyone will hear me, or if anyone else survived the bomb. "Where did that come from?  Where is our back up? Where is Mike?"

A brother from my platoon runs to me.  He grabs me with both hands and pulls me to my feet.  I can tell he is screaming, but I can't hear him.  I can read his lips. "Get up! Let's go! He's gone!"

"Fuck you, man.  That was supposed to be me!  Mike could tell that I wasn't feeling well today so he told me that he'd take the lead.  That was supposed to be me! What am I going to tell his wife and kids? What am I going to tell his Mom?"

I am pulled into the helicopter.  As they begin to remove the shrapnel from my face and hands, the day replays in my head for the first time.  I don't know it then, but this will be the first time in a never ending series that this day will to replay in my mind. 

I see it when I'm sleeping.  I see it while I'm awake.  Mike died 52 years ago. The scars on my face and hands are barely visible under the wrinkles, but that day, each and every detail of that day, is replayed in my head more often than I care to admit.

..............................

"Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep.  If war should take my first born son, please help me to stand strong until my days on earth are done."  I finish the prayer I have been saying each night for the last 3 months.  I cross off another day on my calendar.  One day closer to October when my nineteen year old baby comes home from tour.  I can't help the tears that are falling.  I look up to find my 14 year old daughter watching me. 

"Why are you crying, Mom? Is everything alright?" She instinctively inquires.

"Yes, babe, I was just praying for your brother; for his safety, for the safety of his friends that he knows as brothers and sisters, and for all of the men and women that are fighting for our country. I'm scared because I haven't been able to reach your brother for five days now and when he called last he said he was in dangerous territory." I try to regain my composure and maintain a strong front for his baby sister.  That's what he would want.

She jumps up to grab the phone and I can tell she is talking to him, my baby boy!  I can't stop the tears.  Relief, excitement, and joy as she quickly wraps up her conversation and tells her big brother that Mom's ready to have a break down due to worry.

"Hey, Mom! I'm fine.  We were on high alert and weren't allowed to use the phones or Internet.  We're safe now and I just called quick to tell you that I love you."  He casually rattles off as if he stayed out at a party too late or a concert ran over. 

"I love you, too, Bud.   It is so good to hear your voice." I try to pull myself together to ask him if he's been eating enough, if he's been getting any rest and if he's doing ok, but as we say "I love you" for the last time I feel like I'm ready to explode.  He is fine THIS time.  Five more months until he walks off that plane onto US soil.  What if he re enlists?  What if he is deployed again?  

I walk my daughter back to her room and give her an extra squeeze. I tell her how proud I am of her and her big brother, that I love her. 

I return to my room and kneel.  "Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If war should take my first born son, please help me to stand strong until my days on earth are done." 

................................

I could write short little stories like this all night.   These three are drawn from real life and my worst nightmares.

When I tell my children that I will be home after work, they act like I will be gone forever!  I can't imagine leaving them while I was stationed in a foreign county.  I would have to tell them that I would be home soon, but I would also know that I could not guarantee this.  And soon would not be tonight, but months and months and months away.  Can you imagine?  A facebook friend of mine took in a little girl while her mother served out her tour...more than 10 months long.

A friend of mine tells a similar story to the second one that I described.  When he returned home from tour, I was so worried about him; about the scars on his hands and the damage to his hearing.   I cried when I saw the scars on his face and this was after quite some time healing in a Germany hospital.  He wiped my tears and told me not to cry for him, but to cry for his brother that paid the ultimate sacrifice.  Cry for the fallen heroes and their family and friends because they are the ones that deserve my tears, not him.

The third one is completely fictional, but I did cry when I was writing it, because it's real to so many families.

Matt, one of my friends that is also a veteran, really wanted to write a post about Memorial Day.   After writing and writing, he was unable to put into words exactly what he wanted to say.  But I hope that he understands that things, places, events...people, that have such profound meaning in a person's life can't possibly be described in a blog post.  Honestly, it's not possible to describe the feelings that a Veteran has about Memorial Day in a blog, a book, or a movie because the feelings and emotions are indescribable, untellable, and beyond comprehension to us civilians.

Even though we will never fully comprehend the sacrifices that all of the people in the armed forces have made, we can try to show them how much they are appreciated.  We can show them that we are eternally grateful for their service.  That we will continue to pray for the fallen heroes, the surviving friends and family, Matt and all of the rest of the Veterans, the wives, the husbands, the mothers, the fathers, the daughters and the sons of those that serve.  Not JUST on the holiday weekend, but ALWAYS.  Wear your red, white, and blue.  Bow your head in honor.  Put your hand over your heart. Raise your flags high and REMEMBER the price our of freedoms.   CELEBRATE the Veterans with us today.   Take a look into another's eyes so that you can better recognize all that they do for our country. Teach your children to do the same.

And I'm proud to be an American,
where at least I know I'm free.
And I won't forget the men who died,
who gave that right to me.
~Lee Greenwood

Woodville Memorial Day Parade 8:30am

Elmore Memorial Day Parade 10:30am