In The Midst of the Waves

Andrew

I can breathe again. Thank you for your kind words and prayers.

I ran last night. I ran fast and it felt good. After the first mile I pulled the elastic that held my hair and slipped it over my wrist. Immediately I felt the tension ease from my scalp. The breeze blew my hair over my shoulders. I thought about people who are hurting and want so badly for the tension and pain they face to be gone. To ease. To let up.

Andrew faces the wave.

I thought of someone I know who has faced many losses in her life and I have more compassion for her than ever before. She has made unwise decisions in her desperation for the emotional pain to ease. I understand her better now.

Yesterday I read Psalm 27 ~ Andrew's psalm.
I thought how often I read those fourteen verses to Andrew, over Andrew and as a prayer for Andrew.

The 13th and 14th verses read:

"I would have lost heart, unless I had believed

That I would see the goodness of the LORD
In the land of the living.


Wait on the LORD;
Be of good courage,
And He shall strengthen your heart;
Wait, I say, on the LORD!"


Yesterday the ocean's waves settled a bit. I was able to stand again and take a deep breath.

Today I will fix my hair. I will remove the weeks old polish from a gift certificate pedicure my good friend gave me. I will put some tea bags on my swollen eyes. I will bake some banana bread and some pumpkin spice muffins, too.

I will read 5 Psalms and a Proverb. I will be grateful for the gift of mothering Andrew for nearly 13 years. I will smile at the thought of seeing him again and kissing those "freckers."

Andrew ~ summer '09

People who have walked this same path tell me I am experiencing the normal process of grieving. An employee of Hospice, who also lost a son, told me it was two years before she felt like herself again.

I will do my best to live in my present and invest in my future. I will lay up my treasure in Heaven where neither moth nor rust destroys nor thieves break in and steal.

My husband and our boys, Avery & Andrew ~ summer '09

I do not know how many more times the wave of intense emotional pain will knock me underwater. But I am determined to build myself up in the "meantimes" so that I know without fear of doubt that my life is preserved by the One who will never leave me. Just as I know He was in the middle of the storm with me last year, I know He is in the midst of the waves as well.

My niece, Hayley...I wrote the verse to accompany her joyous jump!
"She leaps in the sunset,
Water at her feet.
Arms in joyful pose,
Blessings are replete."

Faith Under Water

This morning when I woke up and looked in the mirror, I didn't look like me. I was me but it was definitely the rough, ragged, barely hanging on version of me. My hair was dirty. My eyes were terribly swollen and I was on day two of a migraine. I had not slept well in a few nights and I had not felt happiness in several days.

In this season of grief, it seems I get 2 - 3 weeks of feeling "just ok" and having some happy moments and even some laughs. Then a crashing wave of overwhelming emotion, sadness and depression knocks me to my knees and under the salty water I am turned and tossed, not able to identify which way is above the water.

I try very hard to get back up and gasp fresh air. But the force of the rolling ocean's wave is brutal.
While underwater, I cry and pray and plead with the One who created the tides to bring me some relief. I sort by memory the scriptures which promise the ever present fellowship of the Lord and the peace He left us. I consider many times making a call for help here and a cry for help there for something that I cannot seem to give to myself. But I am afraid to divulge too much because I can't control the response nor the outcome. And I know, too, that as ferocious as the wave is, the water will calm again. Finally the rolling wave will subside and I will stand upright again.

Yesterday I began to consider that the overwhelming wave that comes is sent as an attack by that old enemy and liar, the accuser.
I know that there is a process to grieving and yet I also know that I have been in the Refiner's fire and God is engraving a message on my heart.
In the *message that I gave at the Ladies Tea in MD last month I spoke of three questions that I had asked of God in the nine months since Andrew's Heavenly Homegoing.

1. If You are not who I thought You were, then who are You?

2. What do you want from me?

3. What can I expect from You?

So whether I face sunshine, rain or crashing waves, still my faith endures and by God's grace, I will deliver His message of hope, healing and Heaven's reward.

However, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on the earth?" Luke 18:8

*If you are interested in a DVD of that message, let me know in a comment.

Random Dozen!

The questions are here: http://2nd-cup-of-coffee.blogspot.com/2010/10/random-dozen-i-get-by-with-little-help.html
Link up here: http://2nd-cup-of-coffee.blogspot.com/2010/10/its-midnight-link-up-for-random.html

Do you prefer to read the book or see the movie?
I rarely read fiction, so I would say the movie...however, I only watch comedies.


2. What is your favorite holiday and why?
My favorite holiday used to be Thanksgiving ~ family and food but none of the gift giving pressure. But since Andrew went to Heaven last December, I'm not into holidays. In fact, I would like to fast forward through Thanksgiving and Christmas this year.

3. Which do you like better - the mountains or the beach?
Beach and fortunately I live just a few minutes from one.
4. If money were no consideration, what vehicle would you drive?
I have no clue. I never think about that.
5. What is your favorite cold-weather beverage?
Unsweetened tea and Simply Lemonade...heavier on the tea. Cold weather, hot weather - it doesn't matter in Florida.
6. How do you communicate most often with your friends: phone, email, text, face-to-face, or Facebook?
I do not like talking on the phone unless I really have to or need to return a call to family or friend. So...email or FB is much better than the phone. Face to face is best.
7. How do you receive your mail? Mailbox on the porch, at the end of the driveway, down the street, or post office box?
Mailbox at end of drive.
8. Of the four basic personality types - sanguine, phlegmatic, melancholic, and choleric - which is your strongest? Which is your least evident? (See definitions below.)
Most evident: melancholy Least: Sanguine (I think way too much!)
9. What do you miss the most about being 20?
Looking forward to the earthly future. Now I look forward to Heaven.
10. How long from the time you get up, does it take you to get ready to walk out the door in the morning?
I don't work outside the home, so I get my coffee, change my clothes and take the dog out. That takes a couple of hours....just kidding...it only takes a few minutes b/c sometimes I take him out in my pj's.
11. Who handles the car maintenance and pays the bills in your family?
My man mostly. Sometimes I will change the oil. Just kidding. Sometimes I take care of some of the bills. I used to be the bill payer 100% of the time. Life changes.
12. For those in the US, how many states have you visited? For those outside the US, how many provinces/other countries have you visited?
I have lived in 11 states and have visited more than that.

College Girl Meets Southern Boy ~ part 5

One Sunday changed my world.

The first time I saw Mr. Dorsey was in church. My dad was the new pastor and I was singing in the choir. I saw Gina sitting in the pew and next to her was a good looking guy I had never seen. I remember thinking,“Where did Gina find him?”



There had been lots of nice and nice looking guys in college. I had dated a few and even thought I had found “the one” a couple of times.


But since moving to this small Georgia town, I had seen nary a fellow that I might even be slightly interested in.


After church I made it my business to find out about the good looking stranger. Turned out he and Gina were just friends and he worked for her brother-in-law. "Yay!"


And Gina and his sister were friends. And I again I say, “Yay!”


He called a few days later and asked me on a date. He suggested the fair.


When I think back to those days of dating, I almost let a couple of really silly things become “deal breakers.”


Things that are so insignificant in the face of real love.


Things that do not make the radar screen when the two of you have, together, faced down trials, disease, accidents, death.


What were the some of the attractive qualities I saw in Mr. Dorsey?


Here are just a few:


Christ follower
Handsome
Kind
Athletic




What was it that kept me from focusing on nit-picking deal breakers?


He loved me. He really loved me. He loved me for me. He valued me. He never tried to make me into a different kind of person. He already loved the me I was.
(Before meeting him, others I had dated seemed to want me to be like someone else. I never felt completely enough as I already was. And maybe that is when you know you have found the right one. He loves the you, you already are.)


We’ve been through tragedy. We’ve clung tightly to each other through it. I fell in love with him all over again as I watched him tenderly care for Andrew. He tended to him as a shepherd for a lamb. I watched. My heart swelled. And then my heart broke. And Mr. Dorsey, my husband, caught the pieces in his hands.


One Sunday my world changed.




We took Andrew to an art show Spring '09. He took this picture.



Our Family ~ Ski Trip '07

Recognize & Acknowledge

Sitting in  the choir loft Sunday morning, I was startled by a video. It highlighted our church's mid-week boys' class. It was the group that Andrew was a part of for a few years. He always liked the fishing, the shooting and campfire making the best. The book work, he endured. (That's our boy!)
Over the next few minutes, I felt the cruelty of not having our boy.
Cancer stinks.
We don't know why brain cancer attacked our boy. I don't want any other child to go through it. I don't want any other family to be in agony over a cancer diagnosis and death.
Sometimes when I see boys Andrew's age, the pain is overwhelming. I wonder why our boy. We tried to do all the right things to protect him ~ spirit, soul and body.

Still, cancer came.

Sometimes when I am out running in my neighborhood I see a boy riding a bike whose hair is the color of honey, like Andrew's.
Sometimes I close my eyes just a little and imagine it is Andrew for just a moment.
Sometimes I hear the familiar sound of skateboarding down our street and I miss hearing that right outside my door. I miss hearing Andrew skateboarding up our driveway, into the garage and coming in the side door with his hair plastered with sweat to his head.


Sometimes I see the friends he played with out playing now. It hurts. I often avoid the top of our street for that reason.


As the video played, I felt the heat rising in my body, tears welled up in my eyes and spilled down my cheeks. My hands began to shake. I wanted to escape. But I knew it would cause distraction and I would just feel worse making a scene.
The lady to my left reached for her purse and withdrew a tissue. She pressed it into my hand and then she placed her hand on my knee.
Grief and overwhelming sadness was recognized.
I grabbed her hand as the video seemed interminable and held on for dear life.
Grief and overwhelming sadness acknowledged.


I often feel that people don't know what to do with me anymore. And I wonder if it is more a reflection of my own discomfort. Should I try to explain how difficult it is being in church?
There are several reasons. Our family has discussed them. I think it would be very hard for someone to understand unless they have been in a very similiar situation.


It starts with driving to church. Instead of five of us in our van, there are four. Andrew always sat right behind me. Then there is the pew. Not five any longer, but four. We sat there believing and praying for a miracle as Andrew sat beside us. The elders of the church prayed for him and he was anointed with oil.


Our choir has begun rehearsing for Christmas and I remember that last December the five of us sat together and as the choir sang, Andrew leaned into me and whispered in my ear, "It's not the same without you up there, Mom."  That was only two weeks before he passed to Heaven.


Although doing life is sometimes difficult, we keep pressing forward. We do the hard things. I admit I do not always smile through it. But I do it. Can that be good enough sometimes?


I guess I'm sharing this to let you know that if you are in the presence of someone who is walking through a storm, in whatever phase that may be, you really don't have to say much. Please don't preach or tell them you know how they feel. Please don't offer platitudes and be very careful about "sharing" Scripture.


Just recognize and acknowledge.
Eye contact. A hug. A pat on the back. A squeeze of the hand.
That is comfort.


As in our case of our loss of Andrew, I want people who know him to talk about him when it feels right. That makes us feel good!
Please don't pretend he never existed. If you have a story to share, tell me. Maybe he came to your mind recently, tell me. Though we don't have his physical presence at this time, he is still with us. He is always in our family of five.

Forever A Family of "5"

"It's not the same without you down here, Andrew."

October 2009 ~ at church

A couple of nights ago as we lay in bed, I told my husband, "I want Andrew back."
He replied, "And he wants us home."

Seven

Melanie at Mel's Coffee Break tagged me to anwer these 7 questions. I, in turn, will tag 7 bloggers with 7 new questions of my choosing.


1. What is your life slogan / verse / motto?

My motto for life used to be this quote by John Maxwell, "Change is inevitable; growth is optional."

However, since my son's diagnosis of brain cancer and subsequent homegoing, my life slogan is this: "Life is hard. Look to Jesus."


2. What one piece of advice would you give to your "younger" self if you could?

Figure out who you really are, get very comfortable with that and then go and BE YOU. In doing that, you will invite others to really BE themselves, too.


3. What do you enjoy most about blogging?

The discipline of writing
The opportunity to process my life
 Making connections with others

4. Do you have any dreams that have been on the back-burner that you still would like to achieve?

I have a couple of areas in which I would like to be certified.

5. What is something new you would like to learn?

paddleboarding

photo from http://www.yoloboard.com/

6. What is something about you that we would be surprised to learn?

I am an introvert and am often more comfortable "public speaking" in front of hundreds rather than simply "being" in a group setting. I actually feel anxiety in a group in which I do not have a "job."  And although it may take some time for me to form a deep bond with another person, when that happens I am a very loyal friend.

7. If you found $100 bill, (lucky you!) what would you buy?

These or these or these

or this ~ which is what I really need.

Here are the 7 bloggers I picked. If you are not "into" this, no worries!

Brandi http://bbmommy2.blogspot.com/
Denise http://shortybearsplace.blogspot.com/
Julie http://www.juliegillies.com/
Kelly http://www.chattykelly.com/
Linda http://2nd-cup-of-coffee.blogspot.com/
Lisa http://lifeoflisasmith.blogspot.com/
Tiffany http://www.teawithtiffany.com/


Here are your 7 new questions:

1. Not counting attending church, what is your favorite activity that you consistently do on Sundays?

2. At what age or season in your life do you feel you looked your best?

3. Would you rather win a personal makeover/shopping spree with an image consultant, a one room makeover/shopping spree with an interior designer, or a personal chef who would cater a fabulous meal for a party at your home?


4. If a movie were made of your life, which actors would portray you and your husband?

5. If you had the power to choose one of these, which would it be?
I would be taller.
I would never go gray.
I would always look younger than my age.

6. Which of these positive first impressions would you prefer to make?
funny
friendly
confident

7. Pie or Cake?

Let's Dish!

Another installment of "College Girl Meets Southern Boy" is coming to a blog near you...very soon.

I've been in a cooking rut for awhile now. But every Wednesday morning I know I'll get some good ideas for dinners. Wednesday mornings are set aside for walking and running and talk, talk, talking with my friend, Jen. And Jen is a great cook. She is also a meal planner, which, I confess, I am not - not consistently, anyway.

This past Wednesday (yesterday) Jen and I met in a different location than our usual so we could get an extra good workout. We ran the bridge and we did stairs. While I wouldn't call us Rockys, we did rock our workout!



And we had beautiful scenery as we walked, ran, talked and breathed. (If you are thinking of becoming a runner, check out my running blog: http://www.seemymomrun.com/.)
Hey, guess what? Warner Bros. is shooting Dolphin's Tale right where we ran yesterday. Check this out for more information!

photo from Wikipedia

We were at the top of that bridge when Jen told me that she had tried a new recipe the night before. Since, for my birthday, she gave me the cookbook she often uses, I decided to try it, too.

Later on I went to Publix and picked up the things I needed for the new dish. Then I left my shopping cart at customer service so I could go home and get my debit card that I had left on my desk.

The recipe is *Penne with Beef and Arugula.
My only change to the recipe was I did not buy arugula because I already had some very good artisan lettuce (Sam's Club). The results are below and this is only half of it in the serving dish. It was delicioso!



And for tonight's dinner, I'll be making *Turkey Meatballs and Quick Sauce. It is supposed to be served over linguine but I think we'll have it as a turkey sub sandwich.  Another confession: I have never made pasta sauce! Tonight will be a first. Yay, me!

*Recipes from Giada De Laurentiis EveryDay Pasta.

Mangia and Ciao for now!

College Girl Meets Southern Boy ~ part 4

So, what is a piggy park?



Turns out it was famous in Upson County. I had been living in the town for several weeks and had never heard of the pig park. It was not a subject of discussion where I worked.


Work. What a disappointment. I had ended up in the position of the woman who had encouraged me to submit my resume. Oops. Not good. I got her job in the administrative building and she got moved across the street to the service building. After that, everytime I was introduced to an employee in the service building, I got the evil eye.
What a way to put your best foot forward and make new friends in a new town. 


Speaking of feet, I wondered if I was going to ruin my pumps at the pig park. Well…I probably won’t even get out. I'll just roll my window down and wave to the little pigs.


Down Hiway 19 we drove in the dark. My date turned into a fast food place and pulled up to a speaker.


He ordered, “I’ll have the Hamburger Deluxe. Make that two. With Cokes.”

“Are we eating before we go see the pigs?” I asked.


“Look at the sign.”


I turned around and read the big sign at the edge of the Hiway.

PIGGIE PARK

“Since 1950”



 

 

 

If you ever find yourself in Thomaston, Georgia, do stop in at the Piggie Park and wave at the little pigs. Tell them I sent you.

 

(more to come...oink, oink)

College Girl Meets Southern Boy ~ part 3

I watched the brother-sister dance team as they exited the stage to a smattering of polite applause.



Following their act, several “soloists” took the stage. I use that term to describe the acts who sang along with recordings of a professional artist. Apparently it was too much trouble to lip-sync and too much trouble to sing a real solo. You know the kind where you actually sing alone and not the kind where you are singing with the radio?


Cartwheels in spandex was looking better by the minute. Maybe brother and sister would win!

My turn. Taking the microphone I moved across the stage as I sang.


“It must have been cold there in my shadow to never have sunlight on your face.”

I sang to the audience. I sang to the judges. I “emoted.”


Emote: to express emotion, especially in an excessive or theatrical manner


“I can flyer higher than an eagle ‘cause you are the wind beneath my wings.”


And the eagle landed. But not in 1st, 2nd, nor 3rd place.


The dancers of The Worm and a couple of “soloists” took the prizes.

Afterwards, my good looking date commiserated with me and told me it must have been rigged.


We left the fairgrounds holding hands and he suggested we go to Piggy Park.


Again, “Where am I? I get beat in a talent competition by The Worm and some pseudo soloists, and my date wants to take me to a pig farm.”


Could this night get any better?


Driving in the dark, down Hiway 19, I was about to find out.

College Girls Meets Southern Boy - part 2

Three Dates at the West Central Georgia Fair

The first night we went to see my date’s nephew compete in the Little Mr. Pageant.
The second night we went for the corn dogs.
The third night we went because I needed to make my car payment.


I had a college degree. I had a job. I had a car. But I was broke; the college degree came with college loan payments.
Having heard on the radio that there was a talent competition at the fair with a first prize of $200 (ding-ding-ding-car payment), I decided I would sing and, hopefully, take home the prize money.


I had begun my freshman year in college on a partial music scholarship. My voice teacher was the best. I had auditioned for the touring choir and traveled nationally and internationally, singing first soprano for four years.

Before changing my major to Communications and Modern Foreign Languages, my teacher and I had discussed the idea of my moving to New York, continuing my vocal training and setting my sights on the Opera stage. (And right about now you are thinking, “Of course you won’t win a talent competition at the West Central Georgia Fair singing an Italian aria.”)


And, of course, you would be right but even trained singers can belt out some pop music. I put on my pretty dress, hot rolled my hair, applied my Merle Norman eye liner in “teal,” and stashed my accompaniment cassette of “Wind Beneath My Wings” in my Liz Claiborne bag (the doctor's satchel in taupe). I was ready to win a car payment!


 
I felt confident that I could win, if not first place, either second or third. Surely I could win third? $75 - come on. Seriously. And then I heard the theme music to Beverly Hills Cop and saw a dance duo in matching leotards - a brother and sister dance team. They were up first.

 

Ohhhhh, they won't win. Cartwheels? Where am I? Was there a tornado in the night and I was blown away to some parallel county in the Deep South? A place where brothers and sisters in garish dance costumes do the Worm while the fragrance of fried pork skins wafts? I repeat, "Where was I?"

With second thoughts on how this might all go down, I waited my turn, nervously tapping my snakeskin, peep toe pumps.

 

Well...at least my date is good looking.

 

(to be continued)

My "Big Girl" Coffee Adventure

(Part 2 of "College Girl Meets Southern Boy" will resume shortly.)

Before
 Big Girl Coffee Adventure

I consider myself a bit of a boring coffee drinker. I like my 2 cups in the morning and maybe a decaf in the evening. However, I do not like sweet coffee. My preferred cup is a robust or extra bold coffee with a splash of real cream.

Take me to a coffee house and I get anxious. It seems everyone around me knows how to order a frappe, latte, mocha, ccino-thingy and I stare blankly at the menu board and ask about the "house coffee."

At the Tampa airport a few weeks ago, I asked for my usual "robust" and ended up walking out with a Tall Italian. (I still laugh to myself about that one. I just think that's funny.)

On facebook I kept seeing references to Starbuck's Pumpkin Spice Latte. Apparently Sbux fans wait all year for this seasonal offering of pumpkin pie with whipped cream in a cup!

Never do I, rarely have Isometimes I don't back down from a challenge and for someone like me who is menu-challenged, ordering a mixed coffee would be quite the personal accomplishment!

I know some of you really don't get it. But you would have to be in my head (a scary place at times) to understand how BIG is this idea of marching up to the barista and casually rattling off my coffee order that included more than ONE ingredient.

Last night I decided that this morning would be THE MORNING.
There is a Starbucks 7 minutes from my house and after studying the online menu many times, I was ready. By the way, do you know that a blueberry scone from Sbux has 460 calories?!

I was amazed at the calorie counts of the blended coffees and realized that my simple cup o' joe has saved me millions of calories over my coffee drinking years. Sure, I enjoy a delicious coconut cream pie and I know a lady who makes the best up in Baltimore. But I guess I enjoy chewing my calories!

That being said, a new friend of mine who knows all about barista-ing at Sbux suggested I actually converse with the expert at mixing coffee flavors behind the counter. Hey...there's a concept worth pursuing. And that's exactly what I did.

But first, to arm myself with caffeinated courage this morning, I fixed myself a cup of coffee. Robust with a splash of cream (20 calories). Yes, I had a cup of coffee BEFORE going to Starbucks for coffee. That just sounds so wrong. But I enjoyed it so much.

And then I gathered up various and sundry items for my errands that I would run with my PSL (that's how we coffee connoisseurs refer to Pumpkin Spice Latte) in the cupholder of my Terraza. (That's my Mom van.) Latte. Terraza. I'm suddenly feeling very Italian. Prego. (Not the spaghetti sauce; they say that a lot in Italy and it means lots of things.)

When I arrived at Sbux and parked the Terraza, I took a deep breath and I think I actually said to myself, "You're a big girl now. You can do this. Go get your latte! And don't forget your purse. And double check that you lock your door."

I marched right in and hovered between disappointment and relief that no one was in line. I told Mr. Barista Man that I had heard tell of these pumpkin drinks and I wanted one. But not too sweet.

And he said, "Ok. Then I'll put fewer pumps in it."
Yeah...that's what I'm talkin' 'bout. Fewer pumps. Which is exactly what my Baltimore Barista FB Friend told me I should request.

Wow. That was easy.
And then he asked what size. I could have gotten nervous here.
But I was cool. I had studied the menu, remember.
Cool as a cucumber or an Iced Caramel Macchiato, I remember my Tall Italian in the airport ~ Ciao, Baby ~ and I reply, "Tall."

And then he hit me below the belt. He offered to give me my drink for free if I purchased the new Via. Did he know who he was talking to? I am the queen of the Publix BOGO. Of course, I'll buy the Via if he is going to buy my Big Girl Coffee! Hook me up, baby. And then he admitted to me that he, too, prefers the flavor I picked ~ cinnamon spice! And I think he meant it.

It was a good deal.

And that was it. Well, almost. I hovered at the ordering place instead of the pick it up place and another barista had to wave me toward the tall round counter. Hey, I was wearing running shoes...and at 5'2 1/2"...all the counters are tall.

I got my PSL and headed toward the Terraza. I sipped and drove and sipped and drove and felt very much like a Big Girl. And for the record, I enjoyed every calorie of my Pumpkin Spice Latte from the Starbucks! I may have even tried to chew a little. Ciao for now!

After
I'm a Big Girl now!

College Girl Meets Southern Boy ~ part 1

Our first date was at a county fair. And so was our second. And our third.

All mine

He was a Southern boy who never met a stranger. I admired that. He was polite. He opened the doors for me. He told me I was beautiful. And he sent me dozens of yellow roses ~ my favorite.
I was a recent college graduate with big dreams and big hair living in a small town.

~1985 ~
Taken a couple of weeks before I met my Southern beau.
The photographer told me not to smile in this one!

My father was a preacher who had planted churches all over the country while serving God and people.
His father* was an Army man who had served his country and whose roots were planted in the middle of Georgia .

Our mothers were both raised in the South and each loved her husband and children. And both could put a meal on the table that would make your mouth water and your tongue say, "Thank you, Maam."

I moved from my college town in Tennessee to his central Georgia town the summer of my graduation. Although I had accepted a job at a local newspaper office in Tennessee, my dad convinced me to come home. "Home," at that time, was an even smaller town in south Georgia. It seemed my chances at a career and in finding a husband were getting as small as the small towns I was living in.

That summer my parents moved from the charming little town of Alma, Georgia, to the slightly larger town of Thomaston in central Georgia. At least I was getting closer to Atlanta ~ only one hour away! And I had plans for Atlanta and me.

But on a Sunday in September all my plans were about to change.

*I never met my husband's father. He passed away from leukemia when my husband was 16.

(I sent my husband an email this morning to tell him I had a surprise for him on my blog.So I got an email in reply with "WOW"  in the subject line and he wrote: "OK I was surprised by the post. I can not wait to see what happens next."
To which I replied, "Well…you KNOW what happens next." And now I'm wondering if I make something up, will he know it?)

Dream A Little Dream

Ever had one of those dreams that when you first wake in the morning, it takes a minute to realize the dream is not your reality?
I had one of those kind last night and man am I glad it was just a dream!

Recently I was with friends and the subject of dreams came up. I asked, "Don't you love the Flying Dream?" One friend looked at me blankly and the other nodded his head up and down.

My Flying Dream always starts the same. There are people following me in a suspicious manner. So I gently flap my arms and fly just above the tree tops. I never go any higher than that. It's a safe distance. Meanwhile the group on the ground continues to chase after me waiting for me to descend. When I feel myself losing altitude, all I need do is flap a bit and I'm back above the tree tops!
My interpretation: I want to escape the expectations of others and fly freely!
Alternative interpretation: The people on the ground are my family and they want to know what's for dinner.

Another dream I've had throughout the years is the Oops, I Forgot About This Math Class Dream. I haven't liked math since 9th grade when the math teacher humiliated me in class. And it was not because I couldn't solve the problems. It was because I could solve the problems and when I finished my classwork and my homework, I would read my library book. He told me never to bring another library book to his class again. A few days later he transferred me to another class and I won't even finish the disastrous story!
In the Oops, I Forgot About This Math Class Dream, I am a college student and it is the week of finals. I realize that I have never even attended my math class all semester! I am left trying to explain this to the teacher and plead for mercy. This is a very bad dream. Very bad.
My Interpretation: I can't keep all my "ducks in a row" and math is a very bad duck. Very bad.
Alternative Interpretation: I'm an English major. You do the math!

And I save the "best" for last. In the I Don't Know I Am N@ked Dream, I am a teacher and I have an early morning faculty meeting. In this dream sometimes I drive to school and sometimes I walk. Either way it is not until I sit down in the meeting that I am aware that I am completely unclothed. Oh the shock and awe! (Everyone is shocked and I keep saying, "Aw, I'm sorry. Aw, I'm so sorry.")
I sit and try to cover myself as best I can. I look around hoping to borrow a coat, a scarf, a clipboard...! Anything. Slowly the other teachers realize that I am sans clothing, too. As panic rises, I awake.
My Interpretation: I feel inadequate and fear exposure.
Alternative Interpretation: When I say, "I have nothing to wear! It's true!"
Tomorrow, class, we will discuss the When I Open My Mouth, My Teeth Fall Out Dream. That's a bad one, too. Very bad.



Whew! Still have my teeth...





And this is the part where I pretend to be a psychoanalyist (That was hard to spell.) or just a little "psycho." To those dreamers who have asked for my interpretation of your dreams, here goes. Remember I don't really know what your dreams mean, I just pretend I do for this blog post.

2nd Cup of Coffee: Although you have quite a sense of humor, you also have a very serious, pragmatic side. Sometimes others don't get that part of you. That is why in your dream, no one else seems to realize the "seriousness" of the situation. You sometimes feel that "the group" would prefer you have a seat, have a sandwich and tell a joke!

Lilly Belle: When your mother asked, "Lilly Belle, if all of your friends jumped off a bridge, would you do it?, she didn't realize that you were the leader of the "jump off a cliffers." Actually, since I have known you for years, I know that you are the "cool kid" that everyone wants to hang out with. Maybe you just want to escape that every once in a while. And jumping off a cliff is a very dramatic way in which to escape. I mean, I just fly above the tree tops!

Laurie: All anyone has to do is read your blog for a while and they will know you are highly creative! And the fact that you have researched why you dream "crazy" dreams, makes me feel I know you a bit better. I am the one who recently told a friend that I may need my own personal "crazy checker."