Losing My Religion

"Oh life, it's bigger
It's bigger than you
And you are not me
The lengths that I will go to
The distance in your eyes
Oh no, I've said too much
I've said enough"


Last fall, I lost my church.  Before it was over, I had lost my religion.  Something scary happened that compromised the safety of my sweet daughter.  The steps I took to protect her, forced us to walk away from our church community, our sanctuary, safe place to worship, the place where we felt His love and where my former husband and I promised to raise to our child to know Him. The same sanctuary where the members pledged to support her in her journey of faith.  Sadly, I lost these brothers and sisters that I thought were friends and learned that truly they were mere acquaintances.

"That's me in the corner
That's me in the spotlight
Losing my religion
Trying to keep up with you
And I don't know if I can do it
Oh no, I've said too much
I haven't said enough"

As everything unfolded, she became afraid to attend church. As many things that I have asked her to trust me and do that was in her best interest, I couldn't make her go to a place where she felt fear.  The church gave me no assurance of a plan for her to feel comfortable.   As such, I have struggled to hang on to my faith and have never felt as alone as I have on my path - some Sunday mornings I feel ... lost.  Surprisingly, I quickly discovered that I found solace in being alone.

That's me in the corner
That's me in the spotlight
Losing my religion
Trying to keep up with you
And I don't know if I can do it
Oh no, I've said too much
I haven't said enough

I've been accused of not forgiving the person who caused this harm.  I have forgiven, but am forced to always be wary and protective.  Words were said by others and damaging labels were assigned. Some apologies made.  Some were heartfelt, some were false. But words hurt.  I left with the words "if you don't like it ... leave" echoing in my heart and soul. 

I thought that I heard you laughing
I thought that I heard you sing
I think I thought I saw you try"

With twelve months of distance, I have asked myself some hard questions... was I so involved in the community of the church that I lost sight of why I was supposed to be there? Were we being punished by God?  Had He led us away for a reason?    What and where is He leading us to? Some days I force myself to be open to these answers and hope that someday I will look back and understand.

"Every whisper
Of every waking hour
I'm choosing my confessions
Trying to keep an eye on you
Like a hurt, lost and blinded fool, fool

Oh no, I've said too much
I've said enough

We visited many churches searching for that feeling of sanctuary ... of belonging ... of being at home in a community of faith.  We found a place where it feels like we might fit.   Physically we sit on the periphery. Back row of the sacred space.   In a place where unlike Cheers, nobody knows our name.  Just being.   Listening.  Letting the Word heal.

Consider this
Consider this, the hint of the century
Consider this, the slip
That brought me to my knees, failed

 A few weeks ago at this worship, I learned about the Church of Second Chances.  It's a special ministry that holds worship for believers who can't go to church with their families and friends.  The place they find themselves in life is a place where they may feel personal loss or shame and they may not like themselves very much.  I can say that I can easily identify with that and have felt that very way over the past year and a half, but no physical bars or chains that kept me from coming and going. 

Tonight we took communion in the same manner that the members of the Church of Second Chances do each week.  We peeled back the plastic on a container (similar to a single serving of creamer for your coffee) that contained a communion wafer and all placed it on our tongue together.  Next we peeled back another plastic layer to drink from the proverbial cup.  Together, we said the words about the body and the blood of Christ and I accepted this supper in a way I never have before. 

That's me in the corner
That's me in the spotlight
Losing my religion

On the last night of my vacation this summer, as I watched the sunset I realized that I had not thought of this hurt, this painful experience for the entire week. The ocean quietly hitting the rocks all week and the sunshine had soothed my soul. A long, painful and awakening path that had led me to those rocks and I was grateful by the peace I had finally found. Luckily she came out of this unharmed for the most part. She, we ... were going to be okay. Guarded, but okay. Humbling realization washed over me that although in some ways I felt like I lost my church and my religion, as I soul searched and asked some hard questions I found peace in my decision to walk away.   In protecting my child, I was brought to my knees, but I didn't lose my religion after all, I found my spirituality and a renewed hope and faith.

Coming Down the Mountain

A year ago today, I marked a spectacular item off of my bucket list.  Katie and I, along with our close friends (and experienced hikers) Randall, Jordan, Janna and Lane, hiked up the Rainbow Falls trail to Mt. LeConte in the Great Smokey Mountain National Park. It was something I wanted to do since college, but never found the time to do it.  I realize now, that I was meant to complete this journey with Katie.  And I'm so glad I did. I think as close as we are, we both learned new things about each other.  I know we were both proud of each others role in completing the climb. 

As I walked and hiked in the months ahead of time, I only focused on the climb up... I never thought about the climb down.  Isn't that the way with most goals?  We only think about reaching them...we don't think about what we will do past that?  If you would have told me ahead of time, that the climb down was the hard part, I would have not believed you.  Believe me, the hike up was difficult.  It also, however, was one of the most beautiful days of my life. 

Beautiful snow, cloaked in fog, the climb up was all I thought it would be. Looking for each milestone that told us how much longer we had to go, reaching deep into the perseverance to keep moving forward.  Many times on the way up, Lane, following behind me would reach up and lift up my pack so I could get a sturdy step up the next rock.  I had to smile, she was giving me a hand up ... from BEHIND!  Since Randall had hiked ahead with Katie and Jordan, Janna spent her time hiking ahead to check on them and then doubling back - being the scout for both groups - we wanted the girls to get to the top as quick as they could - while Lane was as patient with me as you would be an elderly pet - and I mean that in the MOST loving way ... she was patient and kind ...

 to watch them both on the trail was amazing... they individually were like one with the mountain. Janna was quietly taking breathtaking pictures of snow covered flora and fauna and Lane so quiet and so natural - they were like part of the experience - so natural so knowing and so patient...

On the way up, Janna and Lane told me stories - Janna talked more than she ever has in the history of our friendship, keeping my mind occupied and distracted so I wouldn't think about how hard I was breathing or how much further we had yet to climb.   we did have quiet time and my thoughts were filled with the great creation I was walking through - no thoughts of money, worries or work filtered through - it would have been hard. when you are in the middle of such beauty and earth bound.. it was easy to

The way down was easy - till we got halfway down - Janna told me to make sure I planted my feet - so with each step I carefully planted.  I would stump my toe... but I never fell.  The trip down was filled with every good and bad metaphor about life's obstacles, stumbling blocks, hurdles, picking yourself up after you fall, and the worst hitting rock bottom.  I physically did all of that on that climb down - my feet felt like bricks - it grew dark - we hiked out with our head lamps - and again - janna the scout - went ahead to make sure the girls were safe and warm and to get Randall to come back and get us out.  Lane - again with her quiet footfalls her patient love and friendship - wouldn't let me succumb - she would hike ahead and assess and come back and check on me - never once making me feel like I was failing - much like our entire friendship - quietly encouraging, supportive and lighting my path while helping me find my own way.  Every time - I felt like I couldn't take another step - when I quasi hallucinated and shared that we were closer to the trail head than we actually were - she pacified me - A MILE never felt so long - then the last mile was upon us.  the finish line to my long dreamed up bucket list crossed off my list - the mile euphemisms flooded in - walk a mile in my shoes -going the extra mile, 8 MILE, walk a mile change your life style ... I was laughing to myself at the inner dialogue - and I wondered if Lane thought I was hallucinating!

To The One That Got Away

Every time I think of you
I always catch my breath

And I'm still standing here

And you're miles away

And I'm wondering why you left

And there's a storm that's raging

Through my frozen heart tonight

I hear your name in certain circles
and it always makes me smile

I spend my time

Thinking about you

And it's almost driving me wild

And there's a heart that's breaking

Down this long distance line tonight

I ain't missing you at all

Since you've been gone

Away

I ain't missing you

No matter

What I might say

There's a message

In the wild

And I'm sending you

this signal tonight

You don't know

How desperate I've become

And it looks like I'm losing this fight

In your worldI have no meaning

Though I'm trying hard

to understand

And it's my heart that's breaking

Down this long distance line tonight

I ain't missing you at all

Since you've been gone

Away

I ain't missing you

No matter

What my friends say

And there's a message

that I'm sending out

Like a telegraph to your soul

And if I can't bridge this distance

Stop this heartbreak overload

I ain't missing you at all

Since you've been gone

AwayI ain't missing you

No matter

What my friends say

I ain't missing you

I ain't missing you

I keep lying to myself

And there's a storm that's raging

Through my frozen heart tonight

I ain't missing you at all

Since you've been gone

Away

I ain't missing you

No matter

What my friends say

Ain't missing you

I ain't missing you

I ain't missing you

I keep lying to myself

Ain't missing you

I ain't missing you

I ain't missing you

I ain't missing you

I ain't missing you

I ain't missing you

Ain't missing you

Oh no

No matter what my friends might say

I ain't missing you

There Really is Something Amazing About Grace

For the last six years of her life, my grandmother, Pauline Wyatt, was fortunate to not only move closer to her family, but also to become a Franklin, TN resident, living at Grace Healthcare on West Main Street.

When looking for a long term care facility, we had a list of requirements that were extremely important to us: safety, cleanliness, activities and most importantly, excellent health care.  Her physician, Dr. Kenneth Dodge, is kind, caring, and at Grace it seemed around the clock taking care of his many patients.  Not only was our grandmother lovingly cared by the staff at Grace Healthcare, and these healthcare professionals treated her like they would a member of their own family, but she was showered with love and attention from the community of one of the greatest small towns in America, Franklin, Tennessee.     When we visited different facilities, one thing we didn’t take into consideration was how the community supported the residents.

 

When we could come to visit her on Sunday afternoons, we would be her invited guests and treated to Sunday services by different church congregations and highly talented singing groups.  It wasn’t just on Sundays … she was treated to performances by a local ukulele band, students from Battle Ground Academy providing loving manicures, trolley rides to see the Christmas lights at Sunnyside and George Jones’ home, winner take all Bingo games,  Christmas presents from anonymous givers during the whole month of December, cheerful thinking of you cards from school students throughout the year.  While at Grace, she went to the prom, back to the 50s and was transformed into the Crocodile Hunter for Halloween.  She was touched by so much love, generosity and caring … and in turn, it touched our hearts tremendously. 
 
When faced with the decision to place a beloved member of your family into long term care and entrust that care and well-being with others, it’s these little unnoticed acts of kindness by the staff and the community that helps to ease your worry.  It emphasizes that although a hard decision you have done the right thing. 

After she left us I cleaned out her room and slowly closed the door for the last time, I was buoyed by the stack of cards and encouraging notes I had read from church congregations, students that I found in the top drawer of her dresser …. It squeezed my heart in the places where I missed her and made the last walk out the doors of Grace a little less sorrowful.  As I walked down the hall and stopped at the nurses’ station, I hugged those working on the night shift and tried to find the words to thank them for caring for her, for laughing with her and most importantly for loving her.   

In choosing Grace Healthcare on West Main, we didn’t realize we were also choosing the community of Franklin as a caregiver also, but it fortuitously turned out that way.  We discovered that there is something special about the people in this place; and there really is something amazing about Grace.

My Home is NOT Broken

Recently someone said to me ...

"Your home is broken."
"Far from it" I replied.
"My home is filled with love."

Anger welled from deep within.
"Have you been to my house?
That's far from what's happening inside.
"Our home is full of life."

I may struggle mightily,
but no one sees it.
Finances may weigh me down,
but we keep juggling.

Sanctuary created
between the walls.
Trust constantly building
to strengthen them.

New traditions were started
and cherished.
Fun memories made.
Adventures planned for the future.

Goals set.
Dreams shared.
Ideas valued.
Personalities blooming.

Long ago, my smile was broken
my spirit, and yes, sadly my heart.
But never, ever my home.

 My home is not broken.


 

#26acts

Last Christmas, Katie and I participated in the #26acts of kindness movement to honor the lives lost at Sandy Hook Elementary. I quickly learned that with every thing I put out in the universe in this effort- it came back to me quickly tenfold... it was astonishing. I also realized that these were things I shouldn't have to look for to create and make an effort to do each day, but rather I should be kind anyway.   I found my true meaning of Christmas last season, it made the entire holiday so much more poignant for me.  However, present with each act I committed, was the solemn thought that each kindness we committed was in the name of an innocent child and brave school teacher whose candle had been blown out.  

With this in mind, I tried really hard to make the acts meaningful and creative - one was giving Katie 26 reasons why I love her. Her 26 reason response back brought me to tears. Her words were the sweetest gifts. I will cherish her  heartfelt and funny list for the rest of my life. Last year, we bought tacos for the car behind us in honor of Noah, the little boy who wanted to own a taco factory. We sponsored a monthly riding lesson for one child for the past year for Saddle Up, we sent a contribution to the LCC Comfort Dogs, we baked treats for the caregivers at Grace Healthcare where my Grandmother was a resident, delivered hot chocolate to the security guard in the booth at VU on a cold, blustery day, donated to Living Waters for the World, put a surprise present in someone's mailbox (the next morning someone had put a surprise in ours), put flowers on someone's desk who was struggling, wrote a letter to teacher who had an impact on my life, wrote a letter to a family member who I haven't spoken to in quite some time and so on. 

With each act, my adult cynicism (read Grinch lonely heart) melted a little. With each surprise kindness sent my way, I marveled at the full circle that a simple kindness had taken and found it's way back to me.  For my efforts, my eyes opened a little, the emotions I discovered were pretty raw and humbling.  I discovered that it really wasn't about committing #26acts, it was not only fun but really was about love, actually. 

Last night I gave Katie "26 More Reasons Why I Love Her" and when I went to bed, I found her list on my pillow. A new tradition, I will treasure always - to pause and tell the one person on this earth who means the most to me, how special she is, how much fun we have and all the things I love about her.  

Feel free to join me, in looking in the small but quiet ways you can do something nice for someone, or even an organization, not just during this Christmas season but everyday.  The day after Thanksgiving was Black Friday, the following Cyber Monday and finally Giving Tuesday, shouldn't every day be a Day of Giving?  I'm blessed to be surrounded by the countless people in my life who commit #26acts selflessly everyday without even trying.  Their giving impacts me, my daughter and so many people who don't even realize it. 
 

What Is the Significance of Finding Dimes?

It is superstitious belief that finding dimes is a message of peace and comfort from departed loved ones. There are several beliefs on the significance behind this. A dime is worth 10 cents, 10 being the beginning and end of a set of numbers, possibly signifying a transition. It is even said that finding change signifies change to come in one's life.

January 13, 2018 - I looked up the significance of finding dimes due to the fact that after January 13, 2013, I began finding dimes. On this day, our grandmother left this earth. We were so close and I feel her love every day. The dimes on my path, I know, are a gift from her, letting me know everything is going to be okay, to always remember her and to let me know she loves me and is always with me.  One day last year, I went in for a routine mammogram. That day they discovered a lump in my left breast and shared with me that I would need to have surgery to have it removed and a biopsy. I was stunned. I was in shock. Somehow I found my way down the elevator and out to the valet stand. As I stood waiting for my car to pull around and trying to hold it together, a breeze blew and I looked down at my feet. There were three dimes literally at my feet.  Not lost on me in those moments that I'm not sure if was breathing, that my sweet grandmother, a breast cancer survivor, had weathered the same with humor and grace. In that moment, I knew that I too could deal with this and whatever was in front of me.   If I was ever experiencing a moment where a boost of strength, love and reassurance was needed. Three dimes. At my feet. 

Labeled

I usually cringe when I see the headlines about single moms and then read the statistics that are surely to follow:

 "79% of custodial single mothers are gainfully employed ... In 1995, nearly six of 10 children living with mothers only were near the ... 63% of suicides are individuals from single parent families ... ... living in single parent homes, the marital status of the ..."  

It's like taking a blow - that the downfall of society are on our busy single shoulders.  It's hard enough not having a dependable partner to raise a child with - then to have society blame all the ills of it on us.
I write about this a lot because it's something that really bothers me ... being called a single-mom. Can I not just be labeled a mom and be done with it?  It doesn't just bother me - it chafes my psyche.  Like it's a putdown.  Like we use it as crutch.  Guess what? We don't.  Because we don't have time - we are too tired to do that.   I'm a little bit shocked they don't have a single mom section in the card aisle at Hallmark for Mother's Day. Personally if I received one - I would want to jump off a bridge. 

I don't want to be pitied, taken for granted, treated differently, be told we are being prayed for or used as a scapegoat in the headlines.  I like to think that I'm raising my daughter exactly as if she would be raised if she lived in a two parent household - in fact, I would like to think I'm raising her better and stronger. 

Someone asked me once if I had a chip on my shoulder about it - I could honestly answer "Yes I do" - I am inwardly envious and resentful of everyone with a great partner whose an even better father.  I get frustrated for having to go through everything alone - it's hard to have no one to run to the grocery store for you when you have a sick child and you have to leave them alone. Harder still when you are sick and have to run to the store for yourself.  So yes, eight years in to parenting alone... the chip has grown huge. 

When I see posts on Facebook by friends that claim single parent status if their spouse is out of town for the weekend - I want to comment that it doesn't even come close unless they have suddenly removed money from the bank account or the phone isn't ringing with a caring spouse checking in. 

Reading this is sounds so bitter ... but I'm really really not. I just don't want to be called a single mom. Some of the greatest women I know are single moms... my best friend Tiffany and my cousin Dana.  I'm grateful to them because they understand how hard it is and share the same - do whatever it takes attitude to give our kids a normal life.

I wish I knew why it bothered me so much - because maybe I don't want to be a single mom raising my daughter alone and the mere label reminds me of how single I really am.

"Even if we never talk again after tonight,

please remember that I am forever changed by who you are

and what you meant to me"

- Chasing Amy

There's Something Amazing about Grace

How you climb up the mountain is just important as how you get down. And so it is with life, for which for many of us becomes one big gigantic test followed by one big gigantic lesson. In the end it all comes down to one word: Grace. It's how you accept winning and losing, good luck and bad luck, the darkness and the light.

It's amazing what you can learn from your 12-year old. It's also amazing where the lessons come from. She started reading these words to me from the back of a bottle of body wash.

I've been trying to let go of some things lately that have been holding me back. I've been getting all kinds of messages of peace. Hearing from friends that I normally don't hear from. This was another subtle message discovered in our tiny bathroom from the person I trust and love most in the world from the most unexpected source.

Laying My Burdens Down

Lately I have been experiencing a lot of inner turmoil. About my place in the world, the lack of a relationship, parenting alone, financial stress and the upheaval in my work life; all these things have resulted in massively diminished confidence in myself. Recently, I went through my Senior Book from high school with my daughter and I silently anguised inside when I read all the graduation cards I had saved. The givers had seen something in me then that I no longer have - the potential that I've never lived up to and it crushed me to think I had let them down.

I've been carrying a lot, a lot of unhealthy anger inside. Where do I put it? How do I turn it over to God and let it go? Somedays it feels like every single thing I have tried to accomplish I get feedback that I do incorrectly or get criticism for it. There is so much negativity in my workplace that its toxic for my Polly Positive soul. One of my friends and I joked that the Polly part of me has been locked in a closet since March. Maybe that's why I'm so angry.

Last night after working late I started driving home, I was going to change into something more comfortable before picking up the carpool from dance. But when I saw my little house, I just drove straight by and drove straight down Hillsboro Road to see the one person in the world who has always made me feel better no matter what was bothering me. I drove to see my Grandmother.

Her room was quiet and she was dozing. Before I woke her up - I noticed a few things. The horrible sores on her feet had sealed. Her hand that was drawn up was no longer atrophied in a death grip. Her skin was smooth.

I bent down to kiss her and told her that I loved her. When asked if she knew who it was, she immediately said "Sabriner". The past year due to her dementia/atavan state, she couldn't recall my name or see my face, but tonight through His grace, she heard my voice. The tears started falling and wouldn't stop. I told her how much I loved her and missed her. I kissed her soft, smooth hands over and over. I told her that I had no one I could talk to but her. No one could understand. With her eyes closed, she said simply, "tell me." So I knelt by the side of the bed and whispered in her ear and I laid my burdens down. She told me over and over not to cry, to not worry about anything, somehow her always comforting "everything is going to be alright" gave me instant peace.

It was so easy to tell her. Why couldn't I tell Him? Why do I fight it? Why is it so hard to really let go and let God take care of me? My whole life I've always held on to things and been embarrassed to ask anyone for help. Not so much as a sign of weakness, but there have been few people whom I really felt like I could trust and depend on.

My grandparents were always there for me - growing up, through college. After my grandfather died, my bond with Grandmother only grew stronger. She was supportive of my marriage, was at the hospital when her only great-grandchild was born and when my marriage fell apart she was there for me. Her home was our refuge. When I had no home and was living out of a suitcase, I drove to her house and stayed every possible weekend. I was safe there. No one could hurt me. Her house was a place where love lived and was fully dispensed. Her advice came from years of experience. She was the one person I could trust not to gossip or judge me.

Today I feel anxious again, but last night felt so freeing that I had her back. I didn't want to leave her in her hospital bed. I must have kissed her hands a thousand times. As I drove off, it struck me that He was in the room with me too. It was Him who sent me there instead of stopping at my house. He gave me the gift of her saying my name one more time. He allowed me lay my burdens down with the one person who makes me feel safe.

One of the best nights of my life

Katie was five years old, in kindergarden and I was taking our dog Pongo out for his last walk of the night. It was a cold January night and she was standing at the back door waiting for us to come in. Unbeknowst to me, she had put on her coat and she ran outside to me.


"Mommy, can we watch for shooting stars?" I was tired and wanted to go to bed, but couldn't say no to her innocent bright eyes. I remember thinking it might be a long wait before we see a shooting star. Reminding myself that I didn't want to squelch her exuberance I said "yes we can sweetie."


She threw herself down on the ground, I laid down next to her - our heads were touching, our bodies sticking out in a right angle to each other. Our dalmatian Pongo followed suit. We could see our breath in the night air, the outline of the tree tops, a beautiful deep, blue night sky and the stars that night seemed to sparkle so bright just for us. The longer we laid there our eyes adjusted to the dark and the brightness of the stars. Cars would come by and we would lay there stock still as the headlights grazed over us. I can only imagine what they were thinking. We giggled at the thought. We got lost in conversation and I finally said "I don't think it's the night for shooting stars."


"Mommy," she said, "you have to believe."


Not five minutes later, a shooting star streaked across the horizon - my heart jumped and as we laid there in a right angle holding hands - she squeezed my hand in excitement - we both let out a gasp. I will never forget that squeeze! "I told you Mommy." "Yes, you did sweet girl, yes you did."


Another star whizzed by, then another...how did she know?


I will never forget that night, we laughed, we held hands, our dog did a happy dance around us. I marveled at the wonderment of a girl of five believing in the stars. It was a perfect night, in fact one of the best nights of my life.

About this photo - I don't have a real photo of this night, but this is the closest I could find to capturing the outline of the trees and the color of the January sky. That night the stars danced just for us.

Pic Challenge - A picture of the cast from your favorite show

Friday Night Lights owns my soul. This is the final season and I'm going to miss the fictional players of Dillon and East Dillon High, but most of all Coach Taylor.

Based on a book by H. G. Bissinger and a movie by the same name, the series focuses on the team, the coach and issues facing kids in small town America. Not a big fan of the movie, the series captures what a two hour movie couldn't. I love this season's cast as much as I did the cast from the first season. The favorites from the earlier seasons come back for cameos - but you continue rooting for them all to grow up, go out in the world and succeed.

Why do I like the show so much? My dad loved football and played in high school in spite of many against many odds while being the head of his family. Some nights he had to walk home over ten miles after the games if he didn't have a ride. My mom was the head cheerleader for the same high school although they were years apart during their time on the field. I wish I could have seen their Friday Night Lights. If I would have had a son - I would have loved to watched him play.

Pic Challenge - A picture of you and the person you have been closest with the longest

We met in the 9th grade Economics clas of Coach Mel Brown - two band buddies - on the outer tier of Jock Hall. We studied stocks, sold lollipops for the baseball team and wrote the best advertising copy assignment. Coach Brown was so proud of it - we had to do our commercial over and over again for any teacher that walked down the hall.

It was an instant connection of like minds and teenagers chasing dreams. What sparked that day when we were 14 - has led to our still going strong 30 year friendship. We would bond over the years through colorguard, heartbreaks and heartaches, rolling on Friday nights, going off to college, and driving by crushes houses in the dark of night. And even tho I call her KB, she will always be Kris Trolinger to me.

At that time none of my other friends parents had divorced, but Kris'. We stood up for each other when we got married and I begged her not to get divorced. I thought she had been so happy. When my marriage started falling apart - I finally understood her quiet pain.

There is something about the comfort of the friend who knew you as a girl you were at 14, 16, 18, 20 - because I still feel like I am that girl. Sometimes I want that girl back. When you are with the friend that remembers who you were then - you become that girl again for a little while. You can say one boys name and start blushing again and she knows why instantly and it makes you smile.

Today we bond over our love (and worry) for our kids, Colin Firth and all things Real Housewives and Jane Austen.

I haven't driven by a potential crush's house in a long time... but if I did - I would want Kris to be in the front seat next to me.

About this photo ... it was taken during Summer Lights Festival in downtown Nashville circa Summer 1988 maybe. We were both finally able to legally drink and drink that night we did. I was home from a weekend from school and we were with one of both of our longtime crushes "the Bonfire" whom Kris later married.

Pic Challenge - A picture of yourself with 10 facts

Ten Facts About Myself ...

1. I love being KK's mom.
2. I want to go to Chicago.
3. I miss writing.
4. I have the best friends in the world.
5. I love college football.
6. I love playing online scrabble.
7. I think with all the texting, FBing and online world has given me ADD or maybe it's just my age. I'm scattered now.
8. I hate how insecure I am now. I miss that confident girl from 1989.
9. I don't know what I want to be when I grow up.
10. I am hoping against hope that 1 Corinthians 13:4 is someday going to happen for me.

About this photo ... this was taken after KK's dance recital in June 2010. She loves to dance and it shows - she worked really hard this particular year. I am so proud of my brown eyed girl.

30 Day FB picture challenge

So I'm over FB and everyone broadcasting the good, bad and the ugly about their lives. For those posting the good - I hope it's good and not some fake facade - because I know better than anyone else - our lives are all a house of cards and it just takes one card getting pulled to make everything else come tumbling down. And then also, they all give me something to aspire to... Maybe the bad is the real truth on FB - but posting about puking and what anti-depressant works - is a little too narcissitic and too much information for me. This blog could very well be this way, but now FB has conquered the world - the few people who read my blog have forgotten about it. :)

So to get myself back into blogging - i'm going to do the 30 day FB picture challenge - just do it on here and give me some guidance on what to post - and not broadcast it to my friends and acquaintances and those who could really care less. I care and on here that's all that matters.

Went shopping this weekend and looked in a mirror. I hardly recognized the person looking back. I sat down - with an armload of clothes in my hands, and just stared. Who is she? and where did I go? And why didn't turning 40 have all the answers I thought it was going to have.

As I wondered who I am - I also wondered where I'm going - I thought by now I would have moved forward with my life. But I feel like I'm just standing still or treading water. Even x in all of his tumultousness has moved on- in a bad marriage but moved on just the same.

I hate feeling in limbo like this. I am meeting some major goals in my life. Almost finished with my masters. Lost XX amount of weight. I'm in between sizes and just in between everything it seems. I need some direction. Hoping for some hope - gotta build back up my faith. Looking in the mirror - sometimes we don't like what we see - but it's there so we can modify that reflection.

Thankful

“Not everything that can be counted counts, and not everything that counts can be counted.”

-- Albert Einstein

Cliff Island Blues

When that plane touches down on the ground in Nashville
you'll hear it on the news.
Come 9:05 tomorrow night
we'll have the Cliff Island Blues.

There's a big difference sitting at the Power Point
and your feet can't find your shoes.
Come Monday morning when I put on my heels for work,
then I'll have the Cliff Island Blues.

Gourmet meals flavored with garlic
and the dishwashing cleaning crews,
Beats a Happy Meal eaten at my desk anyday.
It's enough to give me the Cliff Island Blues.

The island transport, feeling the breeze off the ferry
and hearing the seagulls mews
Beats rush hour traffic, a $5.00 gallon of gas
MAN, I've got the Cliff Island Blues.

When the airliner crosses over that Mason Dixon line,
we'll have a bit of a clue.
Toto, we ain't close to Portland no mo'
We've officially got the Cliff Island Blues.