Spring Break Here I Come!

This week cannot come fast enough. Not that I have anything major planned, but Spring Break for me just reminds me that the school year is almost over. Instead of getting a full week off like I am used to, we only get Wednesday-Friday off. Apparently, it's so we get out two days earlier in May, but as it stands right now, we are going to school until May 27th anyway. So instead of being bored after a few days, I am going to revel in my three days.

I thought I had plans made with a friend, but I'm thinking those plans may be on the back-burner for now due to situations out my control. I definitely want to clean house, work outside just a bit, relax, put up my new scrapbook shelf, relax, work on some home projects, scrapbook, and relax. Did I mention I want to relax? It's not that my life has been totally wound uptight lately, but I just want to keep moving forward. No matter what is getting in my way, I have decided to move forward and not look back. I know this may sound corny, but I was watching season 1 of "Reba", and she said a line that struck a chord with me. Her advice to her daughter was this: "You can't mourn the rest of your life just because things didn't turn out how you always imagined they would." BINGO! I'm trying to take this to heart.

Okay, so this blog post didn't turn out exactly how I had planned either, so I'll end with commenting on the new book I'm reading. Actually, I'm in the middle of two, but one is here at home and the other is at school. The Shack, by William P. Young, is turning out to be everything I had heard. Kodi, I think you were the first person to tell me about this book, and now that others have read it and offered it to me, I can honestly say, "Why didn't I read this sooner??" So far, I'm only halfway into it, and it is definitely making me think of my own spiritual journey. For those of you who haven't read it, the book begins with a man, Mack, and his family. They are the typical family who loves each other but something tragic occurrs within the first few pages--Mack's youngest daughter is kidnapped and murdered while the family is out camping. Fast-forward a few years and the family is now in turmoil. Mack receives a note, presumably from God, telling him to go back to the shack where his daughter's bloody dress was found. When he arrives, he encounters a God like he's never witnessed or ever heard about. This is where I am right now. This book opens your eyes to all the endless possibilities about love and God's work. It is a must-read for sure!

An 80s girl at heart

A few weeks ago, we had "Flashback Day" at school as part of our Courtwarming Spirit Week. Of course, once I learned what that meant, I immediately knew I had to go in some 80s gear. The kids loved it and couldn't believe that I used to wear stuff like that. Now that I see the picture of me, neither can I!!

I found this commentary online, and I thought it would be appropriate to re-post on here. No author's name was attached, so whoever you are, thanks for memories. (I did change one detail just to make it more suitable for me.)

"Children of the Eighties"

We are the children of the Eighties. We are the ones who played with Lego Building Blocks when they were just building blocks and gave Malibu Barbie crewcuts with safety scissors that never really cut.

We collected Garbage Pail Kids and Cabbage Patch Kids and My Little Ponies and Hot Wheels and He-Man action figures and thought She-Ra looked just a little bit like I would when I was a woman. Big Wheels and bicycles with streamers were the way to go, and sidewalk chalk was all you needed to build a city. Imagination was the key. It made the Ewok Treehouse big enough for you to be Luke and the kitchen table and an old sheet dark enough to be a tent in the forest.

Your world was the backyard and it was all you needed. With your pink portable tape player, Debbie Gibson sang back up to you and everyone wanted a skirt like the Material Girl and a glove like Michael Jackson's.

Today, we are the ones who sing along with Bruce Springsteen and The Bangles perfectly and have no idea why. We recite lines with the Ghostbusters and still look to The Goonies for a great adventure. We flip through T.V. stations and stop at The A Team and Knight Rider and Fame and laugh with The Cosby Show and Family Ties and Punky Brewster and what you talkin' 'bout Willis? We hold strong affections for The Muppets and The Gummy Bears and why did they take the Smurfs off the air?

After school specials were only about cigarettes and step-families, the Pokka Dot Door was nothing like Barney, and aren't the Power Rangers just Voltron reincarnated? We are the ones who still read Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys, the [Sweet Valley High] Twins, Beverly Clearly and Judy Blume, Richard Scary and the Electric Company. Friendship bracelets were ties you couldn't break and friendship pins went on shoes - preferably hightop Velcro Reebox - and pegged jeans were in, as were Units belts and layered socks and jean jackets and jams and charm necklaces and side pony tails and just tails. Rave was a girl's best friend; braces with colored rubberbands made you cool.

The backdoor was always open and Mom served only red Kool-Aid to the neighborhood kids- never drank New Coke. Entertainment was cheap and lasted for hours. All you needed to be a princess was high heels and an apron; the Sit'n'Spin always made you dizzy but never made you stop; Pogoballs were dangerous weapons and Chinese Jump Ropes never failed to trip someone. In your Underoos you were Wonder Woman or Spider Man or R2D2 and in your treehouse you were king.

In the Eighties, nothing was wrong. Did you know the president was shot? Star Wars was not only a movie. Did you ever play in a bomb shelter? Did you see the Challenger explode or feed the homeless man? We forgot Vietnam and watched Tiananman's Square on CNN and bought pieces of the Berlin Wall at the store. AIDS was not the number one killer in the United States. We didn't start the fire, Billy Joel.

In the Eighties, we redefined the American Dream, and those years defined us. We are the generation in between strife and facing strife and not turning our backs. The Eighties may have made us idealistic, but it's that idealism that will push us and be passed on to our children - the first children of the twenty-first century. Never forget: We are the children of the Eighties.

Agape Love

The day my Grandma was buried was one of the more beautiful days this winter. Since it took place down in Arkansas, the temperature was warmer than it probably would have been up here in KC, but there was something about that day that just made it seem all that more special. So many of us had worn long sleeves, pants, even a head scarf (Aunt Kay), but none of that was needed. I think the sun warmed us up to about 75 degrees and the wind came in strong from the south.

The church service was nice...nice is too vague of a word, but it was quaint and small. It was held inside a church I used to go to when I was a little girl when we'd go visit family down there in Palestine, Arkansas. The town itself is nothing really, but I will always remember that church. I remember singing a song about "agape love," stirring my imaginary pot of all the ingredients used to make agape love, or God's love found within us. I know my grandma was full of it, and she made sure she her cup runneth over as she rose to meet Him.

Family came whom I had not seen in years. In fact, most of the people there I had not seen since my 7th grade year. That was the last year I ever attended a family reunion. Few friends and family came to see my grandma for one last time, and boy, did she look great! Seeing her in the casket reminded me of the grandma I once knew so many years ago. Her skin was taut, showing not-so-many wrinkles, and her face actually had on makeup! I don't know that I ever remember my grandma wearing makeup unless we were going to church, so I guess that's a befitting way to look when she was walking through the Pearly Gates.

Probably the nicest part of the day was actually at the graveside service at Forrest Park Cemetary, located in Forrest City (pronounced FAR City for anyone from Arkansas). Of course, this is one of the only pictures I have of her children all together--sitting by the casket, heads knelt in prayer. As the preacher was saying a prayer, a gust of wind came in and blew through the tent! I just know that was grandma's way of saying, "Stop crying now. I'm in a much better place here than I was on earth. You'll see me again someday. I'll be here."

Once the graveside service was over, we all stood around talking, catching up with each other and what everyone had been up to since the last time we'd spoken. I asked Mom why Grandma was being buried way out in Forrest City when she had lived somewhere else for so long. She said it was because this area was really where she came from, her husband had been buried there, and she wanted to be buried close to my mom as well. HUH???? Apparently, it turns out that my own mother already has her tombstone picked out, planted, and even has her name already engraved on the darn thing! Now that was a little freaky to see for the first time. My brother wasn't so sure he even wanted to see it, but curiousity got the better of him, and he looked too. Mom said she didn't want us kids to worry about that trivial thing when her time came, so she had it made beforehand. Thanks...I guess...

She's gone...

Grandma finally passed away yesterday at the ripe old age of 90. She lived 30+ years beyond her beloved Guy, but now the two of them are reunited. Now she can give him all of her love from all of us!

Mom received a call yesterday from her brother, who said that it wouldn't be long now. Of course, Grandma had tricked them all before, but this time, it was real. Mom said that although she couldn't be in the room when her mother drew her last breath, she knows Grandma knew she was surrounded by love. (Mom did not want the last image of her mother to be of her dying, so she opted to stay out of the room. I don't blame her one bit--I would probably want to do the same thing.)

According to my uncle Allan, Grandma smiled twice before she let go of this world. I wonder what she was seeing when she let herself be taken away. Was she seeing Jesus? Those Heavenly Gates? I know she is no longer suffering, and for that, I am eternally grateful.

I do plan on going down for the funeral on Wednesday. It's about a 7-8 hour drive, and that's the longest I will have driven by myself, but I am ready. Maybe a little solitude will do me some good...

Blond moment

Okay, I just had to tattle on myself because this story is too funny to keep quiet, no matter how much I want to! Since the weather has been really nice the past two days, I decided to get my car washed for the first time in forever. On my way to the car wash, my windows were rolled down so I could get a breath of fresh air and blow my troubles away. I rolled up to the window, put in the kind of wash I wanted, then proceeded to the car wash tunnel. I rolled up my window, drove my tires over the line and put my car in neutral. Just as the car started to lurch forward, the "pre-wash" blast of water came spraying inside my car!!!! Apparently, I rolled up the driver-side window but failed to put up the passenger one. OOPS! Needless to say, I was screaming and laughing, and at the same time, trying to figure out how to get the window up! Once the car had been cleaned on the outside, I had to drive it over to the side parking area and clean up the inside! Now I can say that I've taken a shower at the car wash! Too bad I didn't have my camera!

Edited to add about grandma--she's still fighting to stay alive. The doctors have been saying for DAYS "she won't live through the night" and guess what? She's still here. Everyone is just amazed that she is still alive. The doctor even said that if she is alive on Monday, he's going to pull out the record book to see if she qualifies. This will make two full weeks that she has been off of all machines, no food, no water, nothing. Next week will be week three. Man! I just hope she is not suffering. I want her to go in peace.

Grandma

For those who believe in the power of prayer, I have a request (of sorts). My grandmother, my Mom's mom, is very very very sick. While she's been ill for a while, physically, she's always been okay. Her mind began to slip a few years back, and last Christmas it was evident that she did not know who any of us were, even her own children. Well, now she is in a hospice facility basically waiting to die. Grandma contracted e.coli in her bladder a couple of weeks ago and that caused her entire body to shut down. She only has one kidney to begin with, and it was only functioning at 20%. The doctors have said there is absolutely nothing they can do. She hasn't had any nutrition in at least a week, and now the doctors have taken her off of everything but morphine to keep the pain subsided. All of her children are around her now, so this is my request. I know Grandma will not return to her normal self, and I know the best thing for her would be to pass away peacefully and without any more suffering. This is my prayer. Lord, take her away to you so she can join you in eternal life. Be with her in her time of passing. Please do not let her suffer any longer.

This is a picture I took of my Grandma last Christmas. In fact, it is only one of a few that I have her period. Maybe one day I can find pictures of her and create a keepsake album for my mom. I bet she'd like that...

randomness

I just received my new Ipod in the mail today--I am sooooo excited! I bought it off of eBay a couple of weeks ago. I saved about...a hundred bucks compared to one at Walmart. It's lime green and holds way more than I need! I really wanted it for the gym--I'm tired of being so bored and not being able to hear anything but the sound of the machines. Maybe this will help pass the time and I won't think about being there as long. Now I've spent most of the evening transferring songs from my computer. I think I've put about 1000 songs on it, a pretty good mix of fast and mellow, with a few inbetween, from David Cook and Bon Jovi to Jack Johnson and Rascal Flatts.