My Happy List

1. Kit Kat Bars.
2. Instagram.
3. Camping.
4. Photography.
5. Sitting around the dinner table with my family.
6. Coffee with a friend.
7. Clouds.
8. Slow dancing with my husband.
9. A day at the beach.
10. The change of seasons.

The Runaway Road

In 1980, my mom signed me up for the book of the month club.  I was part of a club - the Book Club.  I felt privileged.  I had bragging rights that a younger sister doesn't often get.  I was a brat.  But could you blame me -I was just so excited to get my books in the mail. The fact that they were hardcovers made them all the more special. 

Sadly, I was never really a book of the month club member.  Mom must have signed me up for the free, no obligation trial offer.  Two books were all I ever got to read. I remember the outrage when a third book came in the mail. 
"I bet they think that the books come and you will feel you have to keep them when your kid sees them.  That's what they are counting on."  Mom said to one of her friends on the phone, "Well, that's too bad, because it's going back!"   I thought she was all talk.  I believed that she would at least let me keep the third book, and cancel after that.  Nope, true to her word the mystery book was returned.  The third book was never taken out of the packaging.   

But it's the second book that I've been thinking about.  The second book I received in the mail was The Runaway Road, by Stan Mack.  The story is about the Puddle Family who are packed up and ready to go on their annual vacation to the mountains.  Just as the Puddles began their journey, the road had other plans.  Instead the road runs away and takes them in a new direction.  The road, who was  sick of the mountains, decides it wants go to the beach.  Metaphorically teaching The Puddles that life doesn't always goes as planned, sometimes even the deepest engraved routines change with life's winding road. 

I can relate to the Puddle family, change is constant.  And I can also relate to the road.

Just like the road in the story, I ran away this weekend.  I made the list, packed the clothes, the toiletries, the first aid kit, the grocerys.  I planned the meals and prepared dinners and salads, then I made a bee line out of town. 

I ran away because in order refuel for life, I needed to separate from it.  I left behind the distractions  - the drama, Gramma's half empty messy apartment, the uncertainty of what September will bring.   I left it all behind and found peace.  When we returned Sunday afternoon I could breathe again.  Ready to handle whatever changes the road may bring.

Remembering Gary

At Uncle Gary's ten year memorial, the family released balloons sent to heaven with messages for Gary.  So many words left unspoken, what did I want to say.

   

Gary was my husbands uncle.  I had been with John for nine years when Gary was diagnosed with a brain tumor.  At that point in my marriage, I had established close relationships with my immediate in laws, but Gary was part of the extended family that I didn't see often.  When I did see Gary, it was in a group setting, a family dinner or birthday party where there was little opportunity for a heart to heart that would allow me to know how special this man was.

Gary will always hold a special spot in my husbands heart.  John's father passed away when he was only eight.  Gary was one of three men who stepped in and acted as a male role model for my husband.  When his uncle was sick, it was important for John to be there for the man and the family who had given him so much support in his grief.  We both wanted to be a safe place to escape when the hurt was overwhelming, just like they were for him years earlier.   

This is how I know Gary.  I got to know Gary through his illness and his fight.  From how he touched other people. From his legacy. I know the huge gaping hole he's left behind.  A hole that time will never fill.  But it makes me sad, I didn't know the man during the best part of his life.

The message on my balloon said "Dear Gary, I miss you and think of you often"  but, I hope he knows I meant so much more.

a letter to my mother

This post is an excerpt from the love letter I gave my mom on her birthday:

Dear Mom, Today as we celebrate you I wanted to let you know how important you are in my life. Happy Birthday. Just like it is hard for me to believe that my kids are growing up, it's hard for me to believe that you have reached this milestone. You have traveled sixty five times around the sun, and with each passing you have learned a little bit more about yourself, with each time around you have grown more beautiful.

There are so many moments in my life where I felt your love and pride. Moments where you made me feel like I was the most important person in the world. And today, I am wondering did I leave you with the same feeling? Do you know how much I love you, how proud I am of you?

I am proud that you let your emotions flow so freely. I am proud that you are the kind of lady who  laughs so hard she pees her pants.  When something sad touches your heart, you cry just as easily.  You live out loud.  Experiencing your life to its fullest.   

I admire how courageously adapted to the stages of your life.  Whether the changes of your life were new and exciting or challenging and difficult, you have met them with an open heart.  Always remaining optimistic about what the future may hold.

I am thirty seven years old.  An adult.  Gone is the mouthy child who thought she knew it all.  In her place stands a woman who still looks to her mother as a compass when making decisions.  A sail when she needs encouragement.  And an anchor when she needs comfort and stability.  Thank-you for these gifts.    I love you so much, xoxo.





Summer's Growth

Summer is the space between springs promise and fall's bounty.  Summer is the season to grow.

 

As a child I often suffered terrible growing pains in my legs, the kind that would wake you up from sleep.  My mother would give me a baby aspirin and tuck me back into bed.  I would whimper in my bed as I waited for the medicine to work.  This would wake my older sister.  She would get up and wrap my legs in the afghan that Aunt Marg knit.  As long as I could remember the people who loved and cared for me always helped me with my growing pains.

I have experienced so much growth this year.  It's not surprising.  My one little word for 2011 was thrive:

(1) to make steady progress; prosper. 

(2) to grow vigorously; flourish

Maybe I didn't think my word all the way through.  Growth often uncomfortable.  And while a baby aspirin and my legs lovingly wrapped in a blanket isn't going to help my growing pains, it is still my family that I am look to for comfort and encouragement.

When I was editing my pictures, putting together the collages for this post, I felt overwhelming feeling of love and pride.  Seeing us camping, at the beach or just hanging out together, I know that John and I have built a strong foundation.  A strong base that will support all of us as we grow and thrive.