Once upon a time......I felt loved. Over the years I had thought I loved......but it wasn't until I met Him, experienced Him, that I knew what real love was.
I used to look forward to going to sleep each night because I dreamt about the life I wanted.....and when with Him.....I found myself not wanting to sleep.....I was living the dream.
What made it so real was that he loved me too. For the first time I truly knew what being loved felt like. Everything was so easy. We knew each other's thoughts. We moved like sparrows in flight....in sync at every turn.
I didn't need caffeine or sugar. The energy within me bubbled over and out. Nothing was too difficult. No task too daunting. My body was light. My feet barely touched the ground....and my heart floated. It was magical. And I sparkled.....from the inside out. My eyes. My smile. Ever cell of me sparkled.
And then he was gone.....My forever lost.....my dreams shattered.....
Now there is just darkness....so much darkness....my body feels as though it is weighted down....every movement requires effort.....every day gets darker....hopeless....loveless.
Once upon a time.....I used to sparkle.
Sunday, January 6, 2013
Sunday, December 2, 2012
Even Greater than a Mother's Love...
Rarely would you ever hear me say that anything could possibly rival a mother's love....okay, never would you ever hear me say that....until today. Today I must acknowledge a love so real, so intense....and that love is between a boy and his dog. Or, a dog and his boy.
Allow me to introduce Abbey.....
At eight weeks, she already weighed twenty-five pounds. She was a bit of an impulse buy. We were just going to "look" at the puppies!!! We had fallen in love with the breed and someone local had a couple.
Apparently, they had both the male and female on site and he mounted her. Even though they pulled him off her immediately, they ended up with eight puppies!! The usual litter is around fifteen!!! As it was an accidental breeding, they really didn't want to go through the expense of putting papers on the puppies even though they were pure bred. They just wanted to find them good homes. Instead of the usual cost of $1,200.00 they were selling them for $200.00. Well, that's all my twelve year old son had to hear.
He promptly went home, counted all his change, got his brother's to contribute for a percentage (usually tips of tail and ears). He even sold a $2.00 piece to his older brother's girlfriend (at the time). And somehow, we ended up with Abacus (a compromise....older brothers into math, she has an extra dew claw [a characteristic of the breed] so she could count, plus one....and since she is a mountain dog....she could be Abbey for short...like the Abbies in the alps.
My mother was furious with me. I was a single mom. We already had one dog. How could we possibly afford another one. Simple. We couldn't. But it became clear within two weeks that we couldn't afford to not get her!
She was the best thing that ever happened to her boy. She taught him responsibility, and unconditional love which helped to heal the hurt from not having a father around.
They grew up together.....
From the time she was little....she liked to lay in the flowers, chase squirrels, scare the hell out of bikers, bark at the moon, kill ground hogs, play catch with herself and howl with trains and harmonicas....but what she loved most....was her boy.
Her boy grew up and left for college....but he always came home to visit...and she loved on him as if he were gone for a life time and just home the day before.
Abbey LOVES snow!! She has helped us to dig out from blizzards on more than one occasion. She will lay on the tallest snow pile until it is a mere puddle...and nap as she is coated and covered with an inch or more, in sheer bliss.
Every Christmas she gets a new rope toy in her stocking and can hardly wait to sneak off outside with it to toss it around....but not before her boy gives her one of her cookies....
A couple times she was the star of the Christmas card...but none so amusing as last years.....
Every night after dinner she gets a carrot for dessert. Yes, a whole carrot. She will either bounce to her room or ask to go outside to sit holding her carrot upright in her paws savoring one bite at a time.
She is exceptional. Rare. All love and joy.
She does not live with me... I live with her. Ask anyone. When they ask where I live and I start to explain they will always say, "Oh, where the big white dog lives." All the delivery men, mail men, meter guys, UPS, FedEx, cleaning ladies....they all know her...and treat her....even regular bicyclists have told me they stop to give her a treat.
At Christmas I need to leave big notes posted on all the doors for the temporary drivers... PLEASE DO NOT FEED BIG WHITE BEAST BOXES!!! See, Abbey thinks all the packages are for her. So if the drivers leave it where she can reach it....they are opened and played with before I get home!!!
One year the temp drivers was so afraid of her (she can look menacing, although she is just a big baby) that he just threw the package right to her!!!! The mailman happen to see (as Abbey trotted off with glee having scored another package for her!) who called my mom up at the office, who came down and retrieved the package!!! See....everybody knows her!!!
Normally she will not tolerate any unknown beasts on the property. But when one of my older sons adopted a stray and needed to bring her home for awhile...she "tolerated" the wee beast..although I believe she was more confused about exactly what it was....
She is our baby girl....and she is amazing...
When her boy comes home to visit...the hardest thing is to watch them part.
She buries her head in his chest, hugging him. His eyes tear. My tears flow. It's just heart breaking.
Her boy is now 23 and living in Colorado. Abbey will turn 11 in April. Maybe.
Call it mother's intuition, but when he came home this past October, I scheduled his flights so that he would have more time at home and be able to spend some real time with her instead of just flying in and flying out. Turned out we had a lot of together time as Hurricane Sandy hit while he was home.
Again, when he had to leave...there were tears all around. I wanted to take pictures of them saying good-bye....but something inside me felt it would be an intrusion. My heart aches for both of them.
Two weeks ago she shared her love with another little boy so in need a healing....Joshua. He kept saying, "She loves me. She really loves me." And I would just reply, "What's not to love? Of course, she does."
This past week I found out that Abbey has only 3-6 months to live. She has a mass in her abdomen that is already the size of a spaghetti squash and growing. We could put her through a very expensive and invasive surgery to have it removed. But she would also need chemo therapy and would still only have 3-6 months to live.
I once wrote about wishing relationships had expiration dates. I was in favor of them. There are good pros and cons to the subject. But this is a pro for me. So often when a pet is taken suddenly the owner is filled with grief....I say guilt. They feel guilty for all the times they told the dog to "go lay down" when they didn't want to be bother...or grumbled when they had to take it for a walk, etc. Guilt, because all the dog ever knows and shows is unconditional love and acceptance. There will be no guilt for me....unmeasurable grief and sadness.....but no guilt.
For now, I am doing my best to love her for the both of us....her boy and me. If she wants to walk, we walk. If she wants a cookie, she gets it! If she wants to sneak off with her carrot (dessert) before eating all of her dinner....then so be it.
On the pain meds she is happy and bouncing. Today she wanted to take a walk through the fields and chased a squirrel up the tree. She is her old self.....but she's not.
There is an overwhelming sadness in my being.
I see the little changes. My heart breaks for her boy, unable to leave CO. Having said his last good-bye and knowing it.
A mother's love is amazing....rivaled only by a boy and his dog....or a dog and his boy.
May God please show mercy....for all the unconditional love she has shared with us. She will be missed.
At eight weeks, she already weighed twenty-five pounds. She was a bit of an impulse buy. We were just going to "look" at the puppies!!! We had fallen in love with the breed and someone local had a couple.
Apparently, they had both the male and female on site and he mounted her. Even though they pulled him off her immediately, they ended up with eight puppies!! The usual litter is around fifteen!!! As it was an accidental breeding, they really didn't want to go through the expense of putting papers on the puppies even though they were pure bred. They just wanted to find them good homes. Instead of the usual cost of $1,200.00 they were selling them for $200.00. Well, that's all my twelve year old son had to hear.
He promptly went home, counted all his change, got his brother's to contribute for a percentage (usually tips of tail and ears). He even sold a $2.00 piece to his older brother's girlfriend (at the time). And somehow, we ended up with Abacus (a compromise....older brothers into math, she has an extra dew claw [a characteristic of the breed] so she could count, plus one....and since she is a mountain dog....she could be Abbey for short...like the Abbies in the alps.
My mother was furious with me. I was a single mom. We already had one dog. How could we possibly afford another one. Simple. We couldn't. But it became clear within two weeks that we couldn't afford to not get her!
She was the best thing that ever happened to her boy. She taught him responsibility, and unconditional love which helped to heal the hurt from not having a father around.
Her boy grew up and left for college....but he always came home to visit...and she loved on him as if he were gone for a life time and just home the day before.
Abbey LOVES snow!! She has helped us to dig out from blizzards on more than one occasion. She will lay on the tallest snow pile until it is a mere puddle...and nap as she is coated and covered with an inch or more, in sheer bliss.
Every Christmas she gets a new rope toy in her stocking and can hardly wait to sneak off outside with it to toss it around....but not before her boy gives her one of her cookies....
A couple times she was the star of the Christmas card...but none so amusing as last years.....
She is exceptional. Rare. All love and joy.
She does not live with me... I live with her. Ask anyone. When they ask where I live and I start to explain they will always say, "Oh, where the big white dog lives." All the delivery men, mail men, meter guys, UPS, FedEx, cleaning ladies....they all know her...and treat her....even regular bicyclists have told me they stop to give her a treat.
At Christmas I need to leave big notes posted on all the doors for the temporary drivers... PLEASE DO NOT FEED BIG WHITE BEAST BOXES!!! See, Abbey thinks all the packages are for her. So if the drivers leave it where she can reach it....they are opened and played with before I get home!!!
One year the temp drivers was so afraid of her (she can look menacing, although she is just a big baby) that he just threw the package right to her!!!! The mailman happen to see (as Abbey trotted off with glee having scored another package for her!) who called my mom up at the office, who came down and retrieved the package!!! See....everybody knows her!!!
Normally she will not tolerate any unknown beasts on the property. But when one of my older sons adopted a stray and needed to bring her home for awhile...she "tolerated" the wee beast..although I believe she was more confused about exactly what it was....
When her boy comes home to visit...the hardest thing is to watch them part.
She buries her head in his chest, hugging him. His eyes tear. My tears flow. It's just heart breaking.
Her boy is now 23 and living in Colorado. Abbey will turn 11 in April. Maybe.
Call it mother's intuition, but when he came home this past October, I scheduled his flights so that he would have more time at home and be able to spend some real time with her instead of just flying in and flying out. Turned out we had a lot of together time as Hurricane Sandy hit while he was home.
Again, when he had to leave...there were tears all around. I wanted to take pictures of them saying good-bye....but something inside me felt it would be an intrusion. My heart aches for both of them.
Two weeks ago she shared her love with another little boy so in need a healing....Joshua. He kept saying, "She loves me. She really loves me." And I would just reply, "What's not to love? Of course, she does."
This past week I found out that Abbey has only 3-6 months to live. She has a mass in her abdomen that is already the size of a spaghetti squash and growing. We could put her through a very expensive and invasive surgery to have it removed. But she would also need chemo therapy and would still only have 3-6 months to live.
I once wrote about wishing relationships had expiration dates. I was in favor of them. There are good pros and cons to the subject. But this is a pro for me. So often when a pet is taken suddenly the owner is filled with grief....I say guilt. They feel guilty for all the times they told the dog to "go lay down" when they didn't want to be bother...or grumbled when they had to take it for a walk, etc. Guilt, because all the dog ever knows and shows is unconditional love and acceptance. There will be no guilt for me....unmeasurable grief and sadness.....but no guilt.
For now, I am doing my best to love her for the both of us....her boy and me. If she wants to walk, we walk. If she wants a cookie, she gets it! If she wants to sneak off with her carrot (dessert) before eating all of her dinner....then so be it.
On the pain meds she is happy and bouncing. Today she wanted to take a walk through the fields and chased a squirrel up the tree. She is her old self.....but she's not.
There is an overwhelming sadness in my being.
I see the little changes. My heart breaks for her boy, unable to leave CO. Having said his last good-bye and knowing it.
A mother's love is amazing....rivaled only by a boy and his dog....or a dog and his boy.
May God please show mercy....for all the unconditional love she has shared with us. She will be missed.
The Season of the Combine....
It must come from being raised on a farm....but dang, I love the season of the combines!!!
From the time I was little and stomping down a "house" in the middle of the wheat field to play I've always been fascinated with the seasons of the fields from turning the chocolate brown soil, to watching the sprouts emerge, to witnessing the harvesting.
I would wait, watch and listen with great anticipation of the big machines gobbling down the crops. When I was little and too small to see over the tops of the corn stalks, I would stand just off the edge of the row, listening to the combine make its way closer and closer...seeing the dust rise in the sky...and feel the earth tremble beneath me. And then, like a large monster, the tips of the tines would emerge followed by the monster itself! I'd squeal with delight, run and patiently wait its return.
One of the most magical images was a few years back. We had planted wheat and the thrashers were working late trying to get the crop in before the rain. It was well beyond dark. The headlights of the thrasher danced on the dust particles leaving a magical glow in its wake....all under the brilliance of a full moon over its shoulder.
To this day I am so disappointed if they harvest the crops when I am not home.
This year I had the rare treat of being home on a beautiful sunny day as the combine worked slowly to gather the corn. Hurricane Sandy had reduced the once 7-8 foot high stalks to a mere 4-5 feet, but I was still in awe, alight with the energy of a five year old.
I decided to try to capture the magic in photos....the farmers seemed amused by my childlike enthusiasm.
Some sections of the fields are long and rolling. I had a wait for it to crest the final hill and head down towards me.
As I stood in wait, mid-hill, I would hear rustling in the corn. It struck me as odd. Often the wind will blow and the corn "speaks" to me....but this was different. It was louder than the normal whisper, pronounced. Yet, as I scanned over the tops of the stalks, I was indeed alone in my endeavor.
With such a plentiful crop, the combine would need to empty mid-pass. He couldn't make it from one end to the other without spewing its golden fire like a dragon into the awaiting semi's.
Like an impatient child. I wiggled with anticipation. I kept running up to the crest of the hill to see how far it had gotten. I wanted to shoot from below the crest. Twice, three times...there was that noise coming from the corn, more loud and punctuated than a passing breeze....still I was alone.
Would he ever get there? The sun was setting....I was impatient.....shadows were getting long and the field was losing its golden hue....
And then, there he was....rising over the crest consuming all in its path!!!
I wanted so desperately to watch yet my attention was drawn behind me!!! At the vibration of the combine cresting the hill, coming closer, he exploded from his sanctuary in the corn and bounded off into the sunset.
I was absolutely giddy! I continued to record the farmers toils.
From the time I was little and stomping down a "house" in the middle of the wheat field to play I've always been fascinated with the seasons of the fields from turning the chocolate brown soil, to watching the sprouts emerge, to witnessing the harvesting.
I would wait, watch and listen with great anticipation of the big machines gobbling down the crops. When I was little and too small to see over the tops of the corn stalks, I would stand just off the edge of the row, listening to the combine make its way closer and closer...seeing the dust rise in the sky...and feel the earth tremble beneath me. And then, like a large monster, the tips of the tines would emerge followed by the monster itself! I'd squeal with delight, run and patiently wait its return.
One of the most magical images was a few years back. We had planted wheat and the thrashers were working late trying to get the crop in before the rain. It was well beyond dark. The headlights of the thrasher danced on the dust particles leaving a magical glow in its wake....all under the brilliance of a full moon over its shoulder.
To this day I am so disappointed if they harvest the crops when I am not home.
This year I had the rare treat of being home on a beautiful sunny day as the combine worked slowly to gather the corn. Hurricane Sandy had reduced the once 7-8 foot high stalks to a mere 4-5 feet, but I was still in awe, alight with the energy of a five year old.
I decided to try to capture the magic in photos....the farmers seemed amused by my childlike enthusiasm.
As I stood in wait, mid-hill, I would hear rustling in the corn. It struck me as odd. Often the wind will blow and the corn "speaks" to me....but this was different. It was louder than the normal whisper, pronounced. Yet, as I scanned over the tops of the stalks, I was indeed alone in my endeavor.
With such a plentiful crop, the combine would need to empty mid-pass. He couldn't make it from one end to the other without spewing its golden fire like a dragon into the awaiting semi's.
And then, there he was....rising over the crest consuming all in its path!!!
I wanted so desperately to watch yet my attention was drawn behind me!!! At the vibration of the combine cresting the hill, coming closer, he exploded from his sanctuary in the corn and bounded off into the sunset.
He was truly magnificent....and unfortunately bounding off right into the sun, now low in the sky...
The world truly is a wonder to be experienced....
Monday, November 12, 2012
I miss him...
I miss him.
I. Miss. Him.
I, miss him.
I miss, him.
Him, I miss.
I.....miss.....him.....
Miss him? Aye.
I miss......him...
I MISS him.
I miss HIM.
I MISS HIM!!!
Doesn't matter how you say it.
I. Miss. Him.
I, miss him.
I miss, him.
Him, I miss.
I.....miss.....him.....
Miss him? Aye.
I miss......him...
I MISS him.
I miss HIM.
I MISS HIM!!!
Doesn't matter how you say it.
Saturday, November 10, 2012
One Hundred Twenty Pounds.....
September 19, 2004 my grandmother passed away. We called her Mam-mam. At 89 she had two children, five grandchildren and eleven great-grandchildren.
When my brothers and I were little we would run up the hill through the corn field to her house. All five grandchildren would sleep over, laying in a row on the floor. She would make us root beer floats, sock monkeys, clothes, afghans, apricot jam and Hungarian goulash! She would bring us shells and presents from the beach and sometimes even take us with her....all five of us!!! Or sometimes just the boys and sometimes just the girls.
And when the great grand children arrived, she'd do it all again for them....well, except not the making of clothes and one day (much to our dismay) she got tired of apricots so she cut down the tree! It was a BIG tree!!!
She was a feisty woman! Always carried her own doggie bag, especially to buffets, and was known as the Queen of Returns as she would use things for months, decide she didn't care for them and insist that the stores give her all of her money back!!! They always did! She was also quite the gambler heading to Alantic City, saved quarters in hand, and always come back a winner!!! She had natural luck. You'd walk outside with her and she would almost always find a four-leaf clover. She would wrap them in cellophane and press them in her Bible. Her Bible is full of them!
By the time she passed, my boys were in high school and college. They were very close to her. I find it very befitting that she passed on International Talk Like a Pirate day, so that every year when we say, "Ahoy thar Matie" we can be reminded of her feisty personality.
*******
A few years before she passed we were forced to take her car keys away from her. When we took her to the eye doctor she could no longer see the big E. Yes, the BIG E at the very top of the chart!!!
She didn't take to the new life style having to be driven around very easily. She only finally relented when one of my boys needed a car. We bought hers.
Since she was no longer driving this meant that my mom had to take her to all of her doctor appointments. Near the end she appeared to be losing weight. The doctor agreed. However, Mam-mam did not!! She would argue with the doctor incessantly. She would tell him over and over again how she weighed herself every morning and her scale said, "120 lbs." Each time the doctor would weigh her....each time they argued. She KNEW she weighed 120 lbs!
*******
After she crossed over, cleaning out her house was an emotional task. At times tears welled in our eyes. It was so hard to pack up lifetimes of memories. At other moments we were perplexed as to why she would stock up on sooooo many boxes of garbage bags, plastic bags, tin foil and cling wrap. I was awarded her stash.....over eight years later and I still haven't used them all!!! I'm on my last box of sandwich bags. You know, the old kind....not ziplock bags....the kind that you have to tuck in and fold over!!
And then there was that moment. That moment of shear blissful utterly clear understanding that left us with tears rolling down our cheeks and laughing so hard we could barely stop!!
We were cleaning out her bedroom when I happened upon her scale. Unbeknownst to us, Mam-mam had bought a new scale, the digital kind. I asked my mother how much she always said she weighed. My mother replied, "120 lbs." To which I responded, "Well, she did."
It worked perfectly. Only, she hadn't removed the clear film from the display window! Guess what it read? One Hundred and Twenty Pounds!!
When my brothers and I were little we would run up the hill through the corn field to her house. All five grandchildren would sleep over, laying in a row on the floor. She would make us root beer floats, sock monkeys, clothes, afghans, apricot jam and Hungarian goulash! She would bring us shells and presents from the beach and sometimes even take us with her....all five of us!!! Or sometimes just the boys and sometimes just the girls.
And when the great grand children arrived, she'd do it all again for them....well, except not the making of clothes and one day (much to our dismay) she got tired of apricots so she cut down the tree! It was a BIG tree!!!
She was a feisty woman! Always carried her own doggie bag, especially to buffets, and was known as the Queen of Returns as she would use things for months, decide she didn't care for them and insist that the stores give her all of her money back!!! They always did! She was also quite the gambler heading to Alantic City, saved quarters in hand, and always come back a winner!!! She had natural luck. You'd walk outside with her and she would almost always find a four-leaf clover. She would wrap them in cellophane and press them in her Bible. Her Bible is full of them!
By the time she passed, my boys were in high school and college. They were very close to her. I find it very befitting that she passed on International Talk Like a Pirate day, so that every year when we say, "Ahoy thar Matie" we can be reminded of her feisty personality.
*******
A few years before she passed we were forced to take her car keys away from her. When we took her to the eye doctor she could no longer see the big E. Yes, the BIG E at the very top of the chart!!!
She didn't take to the new life style having to be driven around very easily. She only finally relented when one of my boys needed a car. We bought hers.
Since she was no longer driving this meant that my mom had to take her to all of her doctor appointments. Near the end she appeared to be losing weight. The doctor agreed. However, Mam-mam did not!! She would argue with the doctor incessantly. She would tell him over and over again how she weighed herself every morning and her scale said, "120 lbs." Each time the doctor would weigh her....each time they argued. She KNEW she weighed 120 lbs!
*******
After she crossed over, cleaning out her house was an emotional task. At times tears welled in our eyes. It was so hard to pack up lifetimes of memories. At other moments we were perplexed as to why she would stock up on sooooo many boxes of garbage bags, plastic bags, tin foil and cling wrap. I was awarded her stash.....over eight years later and I still haven't used them all!!! I'm on my last box of sandwich bags. You know, the old kind....not ziplock bags....the kind that you have to tuck in and fold over!!
And then there was that moment. That moment of shear blissful utterly clear understanding that left us with tears rolling down our cheeks and laughing so hard we could barely stop!!
We were cleaning out her bedroom when I happened upon her scale. Unbeknownst to us, Mam-mam had bought a new scale, the digital kind. I asked my mother how much she always said she weighed. My mother replied, "120 lbs." To which I responded, "Well, she did."
It worked perfectly. Only, she hadn't removed the clear film from the display window! Guess what it read? One Hundred and Twenty Pounds!!
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
A little appreciation ......came a long way!
Watching the utility crew convoys roll into the area ahead of the storm left one with an ominous feeling in one's heart. It was eerie. Yet, comforting. They left their own homes and states to be ready to help ours.
Once Sandy hit and the days without power began, I was becoming increasingly frustrated with some people's voiced impatience with the electric companies. I challenged people that instead of complaining, if they saw a crew, to buy them a cup of coffee and say, "thank you". They worked 20 hour shifts and must have felt beyond exhausted and discouraged by all the work needing to be completed.
As the hours turned into multiple days, it was looking as though we would not get our power back in time to attend the wedding for which my son came home. The hotel and reception hall had also lost power.....and then right around noon on Friday, on came the power!!! We still had no hot water, but word was that the hotel had gotten their power back as well, and another reception location had been secured!!! We could leave early enough and have out first hot shower in a week!
With the power restored to our street, we would no longer need to tend the generator. And so we went, knowingly heading into an area harder hit, in someways, than our own, keeping fingers crossed that we would be able to find gas once up there.....
As we headed North through New Jersey we came to the Mahwah hotel. It's like a huge glass palace/tower seemingly out in the middle of nowhere!!! I suppose it's proximity to the "city" and "no where" makes it a desirable location for conventions for city people wishing to escape. And so there it was, this monstrous hotel tower .... mirrored exterior reflecting the light and bits of blue sky finally breaking through parting clouds.....and at its base.....hundreds of utility trucks, bumper to bumper who have come to help and were finally getting a bit of rest! I wish I had had time to stop for a photo. (we were on a road ramping up over and around...not a good time to stop or take eyes off the road) It was awe inspiring!!! All those people leaving their families to help us!
It's difficult to describe the depth of gratitude that overcomes you having struggled for what feels like forever with no power, downed trees, and much to be cleaned up. It nearly washes the overwhelmed feelings from your soul to know that you are not alone and people are giving of themselves to help you.
A bit further into the trip we came upon a convoy from Texas heading in our direction. I told my son I wanted to beep for them and give them a thumbs up to let them know we appreciated them. He had been up exceptionally late the night before and was more in the mood to sleep and keep things quiet than to play and be loud....and so we passed in silence.
It bothered me the entire day. I felt as though I had talked the talk, but hadn't walked the walk. I regretted not expressing my appreciation.....and it weighed heavily on my heart.
We arrived at the hotel just in time for a well deserved, non-rushed HOT shower!!! The wedding was delightful and the reception LOTS of fun....even if all thrown together the day before!!! It really was fantastic!!
When we arrived back at the hotel a 16 truck convoy was parked outside, from Texas. I knew exactly what I wanted to do!!! I went up to my room, kicked off my heels and wrote a thank you note for each truck. Barefooted I went back down to the parking lot and climbed each truck to tuck a note under their windshield wipers. Some of those trucks are really big!!! A couple of security guards thought me a bit crazy....or maybe intoxicated....but they don't know me!
I slept rather well that night, content that I had stated my thanks...
Never expecting to actually see the truckers I received a special treat. We were on our way down to breakfast and I glanced out the window. The convoy was pulling out. Apparently one of the gentlemen hadn't noticed the note right away, stopped his truck, retrieved it, read it, smiled and tucked it up into his visor. My son couldn't understand why I had stopped and was looking out the window. I got to be the proverbial fly on the wall....what a gift getting to watch him enjoy his surprise.
After a leisurely breakfast, we packed up and headed out to the car. When we got to the lot two of the trucks were still there, one apparently having some mechanical difficulties.
I told my son to hang on a minute and went over to thank the men in person. They seemed genuinely grateful that I would take the time to say, "thank you." Really? Less than five minutes out of my life to show gratitude for the weeks they may be away from their own families?
Slightly blushing, I admitted that I was the one who put the notes on their trucks. I wanted them to be able to put a face to the gesture...but also secretly wished I had taken more time and written neater....maybe there was a little too much wine in me afterall!!!!
They grinned from ear to ear and told me how it really made their morning coming out to find them!!!! They truly sounded excited. And it made my day that I made their day!
Energy is contagious.... pass on some of the good stuff!
With the power restored to our street, we would no longer need to tend the generator. And so we went, knowingly heading into an area harder hit, in someways, than our own, keeping fingers crossed that we would be able to find gas once up there.....
As we headed North through New Jersey we came to the Mahwah hotel. It's like a huge glass palace/tower seemingly out in the middle of nowhere!!! I suppose it's proximity to the "city" and "no where" makes it a desirable location for conventions for city people wishing to escape. And so there it was, this monstrous hotel tower .... mirrored exterior reflecting the light and bits of blue sky finally breaking through parting clouds.....and at its base.....hundreds of utility trucks, bumper to bumper who have come to help and were finally getting a bit of rest! I wish I had had time to stop for a photo. (we were on a road ramping up over and around...not a good time to stop or take eyes off the road) It was awe inspiring!!! All those people leaving their families to help us!
It's difficult to describe the depth of gratitude that overcomes you having struggled for what feels like forever with no power, downed trees, and much to be cleaned up. It nearly washes the overwhelmed feelings from your soul to know that you are not alone and people are giving of themselves to help you.
A bit further into the trip we came upon a convoy from Texas heading in our direction. I told my son I wanted to beep for them and give them a thumbs up to let them know we appreciated them. He had been up exceptionally late the night before and was more in the mood to sleep and keep things quiet than to play and be loud....and so we passed in silence.
It bothered me the entire day. I felt as though I had talked the talk, but hadn't walked the walk. I regretted not expressing my appreciation.....and it weighed heavily on my heart.
We arrived at the hotel just in time for a well deserved, non-rushed HOT shower!!! The wedding was delightful and the reception LOTS of fun....even if all thrown together the day before!!! It really was fantastic!!
When we arrived back at the hotel a 16 truck convoy was parked outside, from Texas. I knew exactly what I wanted to do!!! I went up to my room, kicked off my heels and wrote a thank you note for each truck. Barefooted I went back down to the parking lot and climbed each truck to tuck a note under their windshield wipers. Some of those trucks are really big!!! A couple of security guards thought me a bit crazy....or maybe intoxicated....but they don't know me!
I slept rather well that night, content that I had stated my thanks...
Never expecting to actually see the truckers I received a special treat. We were on our way down to breakfast and I glanced out the window. The convoy was pulling out. Apparently one of the gentlemen hadn't noticed the note right away, stopped his truck, retrieved it, read it, smiled and tucked it up into his visor. My son couldn't understand why I had stopped and was looking out the window. I got to be the proverbial fly on the wall....what a gift getting to watch him enjoy his surprise.
After a leisurely breakfast, we packed up and headed out to the car. When we got to the lot two of the trucks were still there, one apparently having some mechanical difficulties.
I told my son to hang on a minute and went over to thank the men in person. They seemed genuinely grateful that I would take the time to say, "thank you." Really? Less than five minutes out of my life to show gratitude for the weeks they may be away from their own families?
Slightly blushing, I admitted that I was the one who put the notes on their trucks. I wanted them to be able to put a face to the gesture...but also secretly wished I had taken more time and written neater....maybe there was a little too much wine in me afterall!!!!
They grinned from ear to ear and told me how it really made their morning coming out to find them!!!! They truly sounded excited. And it made my day that I made their day!
Energy is contagious.... pass on some of the good stuff!
Friday, November 2, 2012
Night chills....
My youngest son is home from Colorado visiting. You know when you were a kid and being naughty how your mother would say, "I hope you get a kid just like you some day!!!!" ? Well, he's mine.
I love all my boys dearly, yet you can't help but connect differently with each one. With my baby...we connect more spiritually. We listen to the Earth and believe in things that can't always be scientifically proven, but make them no less real to us.
Stories like this, you just can't make up.
A couple nights before the storm hit, my son and I had gone out for dinner. It was a humid, almost balmy kind of night. With the storm pending the clouds were thick and looming keeping the heat of the day trapped. We actually had to turn the defroster on to clear the windows.
As he was driving us home in the dark the Tim McGraw song Don't Take The Girl came on the radio. Without realizing it we had stopped talking. My thoughts were lost in the words of the song. If you've never heard it, it's a very intense love song.
The last verse ends as follows...
Johnny hit his knees and there he prayed
Take the very breath you gave me
Take the heart from my chest
I'll gladly take her place if you'll let me
Make this my last request
Take me out of this world
God, please don't take the girl
I started to wonder what it would be like to be loved like that, but realized very quickly that I had been. My Daddy loved me like that. I was 14 went he passed.
As thoughts of my Daddy flowed through my mind I got I tense chills that started at the base of my neck and went right down my spine as if someone had poured cold water down my back. Instinctively I reached out to turn off the window defroster as if it were the source of my instant and extreme night chills.
As I touched the knob my son broke the silence and said, "You know, they say you get the chills when a spirit is around."
I turned to him in shock and surprise. I hadn't said I got the chills. I hadn't said anything.
I asked him if he had gotten the chills too. The description of his experience was identical to mine.
I told him I had been thinking about my Dad. He was too!
Although my son has never met my Daddy he has always felt very close to him. Being the adventurous one, we would always tell my son that it was a good thing his guardian angel was related to him or he would have quit a long time ago!!!
I have no doubt my Daddy was with us at that moment and found a way to let us know. In hind sight, perhaps he was in the area getting into position, like the emergency crews, because he knew what was coming our way and wanted to let us know that he was there and we would be okay.
Take me out of this world
God, please don't take the girl
I love all my boys dearly, yet you can't help but connect differently with each one. With my baby...we connect more spiritually. We listen to the Earth and believe in things that can't always be scientifically proven, but make them no less real to us.
Stories like this, you just can't make up.
A couple nights before the storm hit, my son and I had gone out for dinner. It was a humid, almost balmy kind of night. With the storm pending the clouds were thick and looming keeping the heat of the day trapped. We actually had to turn the defroster on to clear the windows.
As he was driving us home in the dark the Tim McGraw song Don't Take The Girl came on the radio. Without realizing it we had stopped talking. My thoughts were lost in the words of the song. If you've never heard it, it's a very intense love song.
The last verse ends as follows...
Johnny hit his knees and there he prayed
Take the very breath you gave me
Take the heart from my chest
I'll gladly take her place if you'll let me
Make this my last request
Take me out of this world
God, please don't take the girl
I started to wonder what it would be like to be loved like that, but realized very quickly that I had been. My Daddy loved me like that. I was 14 went he passed.
As thoughts of my Daddy flowed through my mind I got I tense chills that started at the base of my neck and went right down my spine as if someone had poured cold water down my back. Instinctively I reached out to turn off the window defroster as if it were the source of my instant and extreme night chills.
As I touched the knob my son broke the silence and said, "You know, they say you get the chills when a spirit is around."
I turned to him in shock and surprise. I hadn't said I got the chills. I hadn't said anything.
I asked him if he had gotten the chills too. The description of his experience was identical to mine.
I told him I had been thinking about my Dad. He was too!
Although my son has never met my Daddy he has always felt very close to him. Being the adventurous one, we would always tell my son that it was a good thing his guardian angel was related to him or he would have quit a long time ago!!!
I have no doubt my Daddy was with us at that moment and found a way to let us know. In hind sight, perhaps he was in the area getting into position, like the emergency crews, because he knew what was coming our way and wanted to let us know that he was there and we would be okay.
Take me out of this world
God, please don't take the girl
I got to thinking about that level of love and my own Daddy, who passed when I was only 14. He loved me like that.
As I was listening to the song and thinking about him I got a serious chill from the back of my neck right down my spine as if someone had poured cold water on me. Instinctively, I reached out to turn off the window defroster.
My son just looked at me and said, "you know, they say that when spirits are around you get a chill." I hadn't spoken a word! I didn't share my thoughts. I turned to him in shock and asked if he had gotten a chill too. His description of what he experienced was identicle to mine.
I told him that I was thinking about my dad. He shared that he was as well.
Although my son has never met my Daddy, he has always felt very close to him. We have always told my son from the time when he was little that it was a good thing his guardian angel was related to him because he would have quit a long time ago!!! (my son being the adventurous one)
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