Comfort Food

Last night I had a dream about my Aunt Jane and Uncle Phil. It was warm and comforting. I woke up thinking about my family. As per my usual, if I think about it, I end up writing about it.

As I was going about my morning, I rewound the dream in my head. I thought about Aunt Jane, Uncle Phil and began to reminisce on each Aunt and Uncle. Then I narrowed it to the women.

When I was a kid, we would gather for family functions that usually centered around food. I have many, MANY fond memories of family activities. I treasure the family reunions, the gatherings for new babies that have entered into the family, I hold tightly to the recollection of fishing trips with Grandma and Grandpa. I think back to times of late-night talks with Aunt Joanne and there isn't much that makes me happier.

I have always admired my family. I would watch my Aunt's being mothers and wives and friends. And I learned. Kindness, love, strength and sacrifice are characteristics that are cemented in my mind.

When I was divorced, each played a key role in "helping Linnette help herself." I wish I could find the words that would describe how important these women are to me. I wish I could sit each of them down and simply tell them "thank you" for believing in me and teaching me how to "be".

Here's to my comfort food.

Popcorn with Aunt Joanne. Okay. I do LOVE popcorn, but really the chats that came WITH the popcorn made it taste even better.

Aunt Jane's salsa. She always says how easy it is, but you can't buy her southern zest on a shelf.

Broken Glass candy. A staple for us kids at the family reunions. Sweetness that only Aunt June could provide.

Listening to Aunt Jeanne play electric piano. More satisfying than mashed potatoes and gravy. Trust me.

Aunt Nina's smile. Chicken Soup for my soul.

Hugs from my Aunt Patty. Imagine Hot Chocolate with TONS of marshmallows. Her hugs warm me just like that.

Grilled cheese sandwiches from Aunt Ellen. The story goes: Tyson was sent to the U of U to help determine why he CONTINUOUSLY quit breathing. Mark and I stayed with Uncle Pete and Aunt Ellen. She made me a cheese sandwich. I don't know why, but it meant the world to me. I still find comfort in grilled cheese.

To me, my Aunt Sue is a hearty beef stew with warm bread. When you are around her? You know you're home.

The only way to describe Aunt Marie is hot apple pie with LOTS of ice cream. You would have to hear her laughter to know exactly what I mean. Sweet and warm with a dash of cinnamon. 

So, Thanksgiving is upon us and my plate is already full. I TOLD you that I'm the luckiest girl alive. If you're going to have food, it might as well taste good, right?

How big is your brave?

Sara Bareilles has a song that plays regularly on the radio station that is programmed on my jeep stereo. "Brave". Love it. It was the song that was playing when I pulled in to my work this morning, so I kept the engine (and heater) running and sang along at the top of my lungs. I have a soft top on my jeep, so I am sure everyone around heard me. What can I say? I like the song and I HAD to sing along.

I have always struggled finding my voice. I still struggle with the balance of saying what needs to be said and the feelings of the person with whom I am speaking. I am ALWAYS telling my kids that "Sometimes what you have to say isn't nearly as important as the person you are saying it to." Except SOMETIMES it is.

I have always made sure that my kids have a voice and that it is heard. I have found myself talking to multiple teachers, principals and coaches through the years. I would sigh and tell each of them "When they are adults, you'll appreciate their honesty. You're just bugged that you are the target of it right now." Then I would get my kid alone and let them have it. Or tell them they were right.

Things didn't always work out as planned. I haven't always dealt with rational human beings. I am not typically profound when I am under duress. I used to lose my head and become part of the argument. I HAVE learned to keep silent about the things that don't really matter and try VERY hard to deal exclusively with the facts. Sometimes I win. Sometimes I lose. I guess the important thing is that I try.

And since your history of silence
Won’t do you any good,
Did you think it would?
Let your words be anything but empty
Why don’t you tell them the truth?

~Lyrics from "Brave"

Find your voice and speak. Loud enough to be heard. Scream to the heavens. Speak in a quivering whisper. Be brave.

Intentional Acts of Kindness

I admire kindness. I immediately hopped aboard the Random Acts of Kindness train when it became a buzz word.  I watch people constantly. It inevitably brings a smile to my face when I see little acts that make someone's day. I listen for the "thank you" and "have a great day" and watch as eyes light up and gratitude takes the place of angst.

As of late, although random acts of kindness still strike me, its the INTENTIONAL acts that are taking center stage. And I have been the benefactor of these acts.

I have said it before. I don't do well in the whole "asking for help" stuff. I don't really know why. I think that I'm stubborn and I tend to view this whole "needing help" thing as a sign of weakness. I know that's not true, but I'm not always known for my level head and rational thinking.

Soon after I was diagnosed, acts of kindness have become an every day occurance.

My friend, Korby, brings me dinner once a week EVERY SINGLE WEEK. She works full time and I know this is a huge sacrifice for her. I tell her not to. I have told her that it's too much. I have given her every out possible. Her answer?  "I don't know what to do. But I know how to cook." So she cooks. And I get terribly embarrassed and incredibly grateful.

Laurie texts me every single day now. The texts are light and silly and consistently make me grin. Sometimes she'll ask me random questions:  "What's your favorite color, and why?", "Did you ever have a terrible perm when you were younger?" I did. Ugh. THANKS mom.

Dawn knew that I was having a bad day. I didn't really say anything to her. She just knew. She CONSTANTLY tells me that I need to live in the "now" and take advantage of the life that I have been given. She bought me a canvas with the saying:

"Life is not measured by the breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away."

that I hung in my bedroom so I can remind myself every single day to live my life to the fullest.

Diane and Mark consistently come by to bring treats and love and good wishes and offers of help and support.

Lynnette and Pat and Shannon email me weekly to touch base and let me know that I matter.

Brittany sent me a card with a little golden key inside. She had written the most beautiful note to me. I bawled like a baby.

I have received so many letters and texts and cards and gifts and messages and phone calls. My loved ones have gone out of their way to check on me and let me know that they are thinking of ME and offer any love and support that I or my family might need.

How do I even describe the changes in my family? Little random notes, calls and texts have become every day occurrences.

Because of the thoughts and prayers and good wishes, I am becoming an aficionado of intentional acts. I periodically go through my texts and reread the good wishes. When I'm feeling gloomy, I sneak a peak at my facebook messages and remind myself that I'm okay.

So THANK YOU to my dear friends and family that consistently send love my way. Never, ever EVER will I take your love for granted. 

I have learned a big lesson in life and it is time to put my money where my mouth is. Take a moment in your busy schedule and let someone know they are loved. INTEND to send good wishes and thoughts their way. It only takes a minute and it can change someone's day.