Something More

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5MsZXSNehBw

Sunday evening I sat in the pew at church cradled underneath my husband's arm just like always.We've had a difficult year and he has been a most patient man. One of the girls from our youth group began to sing a song recorded by Kristy Starling entitled "Something More". The song was written by Tyler Hayes Bieck and Trina Harmon. Have you ever heard a song that mirrored your feelings? It was the first time I had heard the song and I was so swept away with emotion I didn't catch half the lyrics so I looked them up later and found the youtube video linked above. In the last few months I can't tell you how much I feel like I've failed. I feel like I've failed God, my family, my parents, pretty much everyone. But also in the last year, there have been many days that I feel like I've been failed? I was raised under a pew... I'm the daughter of a deacon... I know the correct response to those  feelings, I know what I'm suppose to do on those days when feelings of failure cloud every word God has ever spoken to me. I'm suppose to remind myself that I am blessed, I am loved by God.... I am his child and He is "The Great I Am". I know that. I know what I'm suppose to do. But what am I suppose to do on the days I don't feel it? What am I suppose to do when... "I can't trust because it hurts too much"? Like the song says.... "I close my eyes, cause inside my heart I believe, that I'm not alone." I know I have fallen,over and over again. falling is the easy part of life, it's getting up from that fallen position that's difficult... Sometimes it's like swimming from the ocean floor looking for a breath of air. At least that's what it feels like for me. As I swim for the surface, I have to believe there is beauty here on the ocean floor and that my time down here will bring me to a place, where there truly is..... "Something More"

This Old House, It's Just The Beginning

My husband and I have always loved old houses..... More so several years ago before we owned one. LOL! Not really, we still love old houses, love their character, love the stories behind them. Someone told me once that I should write about some of our old house adventures, so I guess I will. A few months after my youngest was born, we were.... of all things, at a Tupperware party (seems safe enough... right?). Some friends of ours had been looking for a home and had looked at one that we always called The Castle House because of the tall eaves and just the shape of the house. Since we were newly married, it had been on our regular nightly walking route. One evening when we were walking by we saw an old lady walking into the house. My husband whispered "We should ask her if we could see inside." Our friends were telling of looking at the house and said "Oh you guys should just go by and look at it, you would love it." We enjoyed the house we were living in, had done a lot to it, and had just had baby # 3.  Needless to say we weren't in the house market. We were however, always game for an   up close and personal look at any old house we could get into. So, one rainy Sunday afternoon we called up the realtor and asked if it were possible for us to take a look. Sure... Not a problem. When we got to the house, the realtor got out of the car and introduced herself. She explained that the realtor we had spoken to was unable to make the appointment and she had requested someone else show us the house. Come to find out, the appointment had been passed on to every realtor in the agency until it landed in the lap of this rookie, who they decided wouldn't mind going out on a inconvenient call. Mrs. Black had just gotten her real estate license and jumped at the opportunity to make a sale.  We were starting to feel a little guilty because we both knew we were there just out of curiosity, so we decided to fess up. Our confession didn't faze her at all. As she opened the front door she explained to us that the house had been on the market for over a year, and although there hadn't been any nibbles, it was the most frequently shown house in our town due to it's unique architecture and age. She added that the other realitors were tired of wasting their time on the curious, that's why they passed it on to her. To say that it was love at first sight would be an understatement. We took one step over the threshold and felt like we had stepped back in time. Unlike many homes built in the 1920's, this one had been untouched with inappropiate updates... In fact for the most part there had been no updates at all. The fireplace mantal was built of rock and of all things.... it had two round turrets on each side, each with little window panes which allowed the light from within the hollow towers to glow.... Just like a real castle. Beneath the golden carpet lay the original oak floor with mahogony inlays. The original mahogony molding had remained untouched as did the 1920 light fixtures. It goes without saying that it was in need of some work. We thanked Mrs. Black profusely, got in our car and drove to our comfy little cottage. Little did we know, our living arrangements were about to take a drastic change.

Facebook.... The Next Best Thing To Being There

When I was a little kid, telephones were the way people kept in touch. AT&T had a teary eyed commercial with people sharing life changing moments via the telephone... The commercial said "AT&T... The next best thing to being there." Gosh, that is so old school by the standards of today's technology. My daughter is participating in RIMPAC 2010. Her busy schedule aboard the USS Sampson DDG102 keeps us from getting to talk to her. We are happy to receive an occasional email, but even they have been few and far between. Thankfully, the Navy keeps us updated daily on the exercises as well as providing outstanding pictures. They do this with a Facebook page. Every morning we can click on RIMPAC 2010 Facebook page and see beautiful pictures of our military at work. Just being able to see pictures of her ship and others out there on the big blue ocean makes this Momma feel a lot more connected. My motto now is... Facebook, The next best thing to being there.

Red Ant

I'm assuming every family has one.... The one who connects all of the others, the one whom the family revolves around and I don't mean that in a bad way. I remember summers at her house, Christmas around her tree and family dinners where there were more family than room. I call her "Red Ant" because like Mohommad Ali she could float like a butterfly and sting like a bee except she was just a little bitty thing. I hated the way she used to wake us up when we spent the night at her house. Sleeping late was for lazy bones and even if it were summer that was no excuse just to lay around sleeping your life away. She would bound into our darkened room, clapping her hands and in the most annoying high pitched tone she could muster up sing "Rise and Shine, rise and Shine" while throwing open the curtains and allowing the blazing sun to accost our sleepy eyes. She took great delight in this little ritual simply because she knew it made us dread the morning and I'm pretty sure that by todays standards it would be considered just a few hand claps shy of child abuse. Then she would sweetly asked if we would care for some chocholate gravey and bisquets for breakfast, which would immediately irradicate any ill feelings we harbored about her rude awakening.  She calls me "Little Jackie LouLou"  and her house was a like a second home to me even though we lived 2 hours away. Being at Red Aunt's house was just how things were suppose to be. The family would stay up late telling family tales. My cousin and I would sit quietly and listen even if the stories had been told a thousand times. She would wait until every one was tucked soundly in bed (even if that meant she waited until 3 a.m.) before she whipped out the vacuum and began to clean.... leaving little triangles on the living room carpet to be found first thing in the morning. I loved to pester her then, I love to pester her now.... In fact I love to shock her prudishness with slightly off colored remarks just to see her pale skin blush and watch her mouth fly open as she says "Aww, now LouLou!" Even to this day I'm pretty sure she hasn't quiet figured me out. I'm not sure she  ever really appreciated the drum beat to which I tend to walk to and I think she was always suspicious that I was more of a wild child than I really was.... I don't mind letting her think that. She lives on a country road that dead ends at a pasture that used to be filled with cattle. Her house is right beside where my Grandparents lived with a huge garden in between. She took care of Grandma and Grandpa until God called them both home. After Grandma and Grandpa died, she took care of other elderly family members during their last days. She is the epitome of a care giver. Her hair is now gray, her steps are very slow and unsteady, but the spark that won her the title of  Red Aunt is still found just beneath the wrinkles that now adorn her face. She is the matriarch of our family and we are a much better family because of her. All of my memories spent at her house will be treasured forever. It is my prayer that her last few years be filled with harmony and love to those whom she dedicated her life.

Paw Prints and Permits

Well, it finally happened. My 15 year old got his drivers permit. I know from experience that the time will now began to fly by at a neck breaking pace and before you know it.... he too will be flying from my nest. Preparations of my heart began years ago, but I know that all of the preparation in the world won't keep little cracks at bay once that house is finally quiet of heavy metal christian music. LOL! Oh well, it's all good. Anywho.... I thought I'd let him drive me to Nana's (which is right around the corner), the other day. Actually I was going to walk my dog over there but thought hey, he can just drive me. Since I already had Sailor Girl collared up and she was anxious to get on our way I figured she could go along for the ride. There was just one.... well several problems with that idea. Problem #1 is, she gets really anxious during car rides and wants to sit in your lap. I figured I could solve this problem by sitting in the back with her so maybe she would be a little more at ease. Problem #2 is, she is really the wrong size for the car, the wrong size for my lap, pretty much the wrong size for anything other than being saddled up for a ride. If the record for stuffing people into a VW Beetle  is 19 (they were bankers so they had unusually large heads), then I should be able to get all of Sailor Girl into my Chrysler. I got in the back seat first and amazingly she wasn't too skittish about going in. We did have a hard time getting her tail to stay inside the car while we shut the door.... It kept wanting to fly out. Problem #3 was, my Son couldn't see anything in the rear view mirror, nor could he see anything out the back window because from floor to ceiling there was nothing but dog (with a little bit of Momma squished in). Needless to say we did manage to get to Nana's and back in one piece. I have several paw print bruises but I'm used to those, and my son has decided it's more fun to drive with just Daddy in the car since Mom's mind is always going in several directions at once. That's fine with me. I taught our daughter to drive and after that I pretty much feel like I've paid my parenting dues and now it's Dad's turn. Like I said, it's all good, but it's all going too fast.

Sinking Ships & Minor Blips

A few years ago I enrolled in a kickboxing class. I loved it!!! I would get up early and go before work or go in the evenings when I got off work. Sometimes I would do both. It was a great way to detox from the stress of work. Just beating the heck out of a bag, felt good.... ya know. My daughter who is currently participating in RIMPAC (Naval exercises with other countries), recently emailed me and said they had just finished a SINKEX(sink exercise). The object of the game was to haul a retired Naval ship out in the middle of the ocean and for the destroyer to "Hit it with everything they've got."

Apparently sinking ships has the same effect with my daughter as kickboxing does on me. She described with enthusiasm the rush she got watching the missles being shot off. Standing mid-deck she said they were instantly in a cloud of smoke and gases.... "Rocket exhaust can't really be that bad for you can it?" Whether it's kickboxing or sinking ships, there's always something we can do to tame the minor blips that life throws our way.

Never

It will never be okay, what's happened to me. I will never again be the person you see. A part of me is gone and will never return, a part I know I will forevermore yearn. A part of me died, though the body lives on, a piece of my heart forever is gone. Will I ever know who I'm now known to be? Will I ever like the new one that's me? Empty and sad is how I now feel, I'm not sure I'll ever understand now what's real, or what was a figment of my heart and my mind. Those feeling I know must be left far behind. Yet somehow I must pick up now what's left and create a new me so my life I can live. If only I'd known the price was this high, sometimes I wish I would have just....... It will never be okay.