Saturday, March 28, 2009
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
this way. When God says 'LET THERE BE LIGHT,' He is speaking to us personally.
He is telling us what is possible, how we might choose to live. But one candle
does not do much in the darkness. God has not only given us the chance to carry the
light, He has made it possible for us to kindle and strengthen the light in one
another, passing the light along. This is the way that God's light will shine
forever in the world..."
Thursday, March 19, 2009
- Big Bebe has had some appointments and procedures at LPCH the last few days
- She's a trooper
- Follow up in another 4 weeks for the next step, more to come...
- She turns 10 this Monday so we took this opportunity to have fun too in the midst of scary stuff
- We got a hotel room and are being princesses in big fluffy beds with so many pillows, too much tv, late night chocolate snacks and breakfast room service
- Oh and tomorrow we are getting pedicures
- BTW, today is my dad's bday. Before we left for this trip I left him a bday card with a print out of my blog: Hit Man. =) Love him, and I told him, in my own little quirky way.
- We've driven around and "shopped" for houses in this ridiculously affluent town...amazing!
- Became very fond of the door man, who refers to us as "sisters" 'cause we're so young and cute, eh? Ha. They must pay him well.
- Yesterday marked yet ANOTHER unexpected death in my little world. (Someone from work.) Why??? So many questions...
- Reading a new book: My Grandfather's Blessings: Stories of Strength, Refuge and Belonging by Rachel Naomi Remen MD. Some poeple know me so well, and know just what I need...
When Grandpa finished talking to God, he would turn to me and say, "Come,
Neshume-le." (Which means beloved little soul.) Then I would stand in front of
him and he would rest his hands lightly on the top of my head. He would begin by thanking God for me and for making him my grandpa. He would specifically mention my struggles during that week and tell God something about me that was true. Each week I would wait to find out what that was. If I had made mistakes during the week, he would mention my honesty in telling the truth. If I had failed, he would appreciate how hard I had tried. If I had taken even a short nap without my nightlight, he would celebrate my bravery in sleeping in the dark. Then he would give me his blessing and ask the long-ago women I knew from his many stories- Sarah, Rachel, Rebekah, and Leah- to watch over me.
What a very good reminder for me, and just when I need to be reminded. Hmmmm... and with that, I am off again to being with the princess and fluffing pillows... =)
Saturday, March 14, 2009
I am positive that I can learn something from this week. I am not positive that I can be positive about the learning part though. It hurts. My little eyes get teary and I just don't like it.
Well, I figure if I'm crying anyhow, I'll just let it all out. I won't cry for poor me, but I haven't got the strength to cry for other poor people either. The baby is in her crib. The other girls are tucked in for the night. Hubby is asleep. I tip-toe so I don't wake anyone, and I find my memory box. It needs a better name, but I haven't come up with that yet.
Inside this box are remnants of memories...good memories. Some are emails printed out, of this and that, but most are hand written notes from some of my favorite people. Cards from dear friends that are simple and short but remind me I'm loved: a Valentine's card from my dad, a birthday card from my mom. An Easter card from my dad to my mom in 89. A picture of my mom on her wedding day. A baby announcement for each of my girls. A letter from a deceased friend's mom. A note from my best friend the night before her wedding. I love her. Birthday cards from someone who is SOOO on the same wave length that I'm on. A picture of me and a long lost friend when were 6 in matching outfits. My hubby's dog tags from the Marine Corps. My first bottle of perfume. Chevrons from hubby's uniform. A picture of the beach in Mississippi. A prayer card from hubby's grandpa's funeral. A picture of me and my granddaddy when I was 3. Love notes from my little girls when they were learning how to write. A packet of flower seeds that mom had been saving. A place card from the first friend's wedding that had my name with my new married last name. A Christmas card between my mom and grandma. They would write just a few notes and send it to the other, then the next year that one would do the same and send it back, so there are years and years of little tidbits in this card. Priceless. This one is my favorite.
Things are rough, but I tend to succeed when the going gets tough; It's when I thrive. It's when I crumble too, so I've got to keep my head above water. If I can take these memories and remember who I am and what I'm here for, then hopefully I can ride this next wave out. I have no doubt that God can and will see me through this. I will put my faith in Him.
“Your task is not to seek for love,but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.” -Rumi
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Thursday, March 5, 2009
After a hearty breakfast of a baba and maybe another baba, I hop on the computer and see how the day is shaping up, send emails, check to make sure that deposit has posted, and maybe do a little retail shopping...
Now, you see, with this cold weather, it's very important that I keep a constant check on the temperature of the fish tank. I've raised these babies since they were wee little ones, they've kind of gotten used to it...
Not sure if you can tell from the picture, but I have to stick (both) my hands several inches into the tank so I can hand feed them hand picked, home grown, organic fish food. They are accustomed to the very best. Any less would send them into shock. Can't be having that now...
After a hard day's work, I climb up this ladder here and snuggle into bed. Uh oh. Silly me, this is sissy's bed WAY UP HERE. I keep doing this. Anyways, I'm pooped (in more ways that one.)
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
He took me to my first concert when I was in junior high. He taught me to play Heart and Soul on the piano with him, and how to play it in more than one key to "take it up a notch." In New York when I was 10 we went to see Chorus Line and Cats. Then we'd get hooked on a song that was on the radio, go and buy the album, and listen to it over and over again, until Mom had to plead with us to just stop it. When I was home sick with the chicken pox he brought me my favorite album ever. (Can you guess??) He's the only one who will come listen to me sing at church, when we have a new song I'm really excited about or just because I ask.
When I was little Dad would play the piano while I drifted off to sleep. Those are some of my fondest memories. He loved to listen to me play the piano too. He'd grab a book, or whatever he was sketching or studying and sit back and listen to me play. He was never harsh or condescending, always encouraging, always with a smile. "Meg, you don't need to rush through that piece. It's beautiful. Play it slow so I can hear ALL the notes this time." I fell in love with music because of him, all aspects of music: the beauty, the simplicity, the breadth, the feeling, the language, the love, and most importantly, music that is LIVE.
Tonight I sit home watching, listening, feeling, loving what I'm hearing:
I soooo encourage you to rent/buy/borrow this DVD and be transported. It takes old and new songs, famous and just emerging stars, and it is BEAUTIFUL. Dad had a light in his eyes when he was telling me about it. How could I resist?
I've been reminded recently that adults don't grow up knowing how to be adults. They kind of have to feel the way through I guess, trial and error. Some do better than others. Last night I was in bed, had just turned the reading light off, and was starting to nod off to sleep, and was thinking how great he is... I've been so blessed. I have the best dad ever, the most perfect dad for me. Then like it was audible: Tell Him.
Oh my gosh. How have I come this far and not said these things to him? Life is so fleeting. So here I am, posting a blog about a great DVD: Hit Man- David Foster and Friends, which is great and all that. But let me tell you more about my dad... he is MY hit man, my rock, not just my source of strength, but the one who taught me to enjoy the little things in life, be good to yourself, how to love LOVE LOVE, and how to put one foot in front of the next, even when you don't think you can. Thank you, Daddy.