The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

Saturday morning, I made Mark go with me to my Pepsi Store. I was in need of my morning pick-me-up (an ice cold Pepsi) and Mark was grabbing his coffee.

I won't allow Mark to have a coffee pot in the house. At times he gets WICKED mad at me, however, he only has himself to blame. While pregnant with Shelby I was grabbing cereal at the grocery store, and somebody recently had ground coffee beans. The smell was ohmygosh so strong. I began vomiting. I puked and groaned and left a HUGE mess from the cereal aisle all the way out the doors to my car. Therefore, Mark doesn't get a coffee pot. Too bad for him, right?

We drug ourselves out of bed, showered, brushed teeth and climbed in the car to get our guilty pleasure. Mark says EVERY SINGLE TIME, "Let's go see WamBamPam."

Pam works weekends at my store. As the years have passed, I have grown to love this lady. She is good and honest and kind and beautiful (inside and out) and kind and kind and kind. Did I mention she is kind? She is. I really really, REALLY like her and look forward to seeing her each Saturday and Sunday.

I wobbled into the store. Pam isn't there. Pam is ALWAYS there. This lady works SEVEN days a week. No lie. She works full-time at another place and then weekends at the Phillips 66 where I met her.

"Where's Pam?"

"Her daughter died last night and I am covering her shift."

Tears dripped from my chin as ice clunked and Pepsi streamed into my cup.

Oh, Pam. I am so very sorry. I am SO VERY SORRY. 

On the afternoon of March 14, my phone rang. It was Shelby.

"Mom, do you remember Katie?"

Duh. OF COURSE I remember Katie.

Katie danced Ballroom Dance with Shelby. She is such a beautiful girl with the most humble, sweet spirit. She soared through High School. She married a handsome, kind, pretty-dang-cool man and then Philip grabbed his beautiful bride and landed in Ireland for work. 

Katie and I are Facebook friends and periodically I see her posts that feature places seen, places been and then the OHMYGOSH post. Katie was pregnant. We found out she was having a boy and the due date was given. March 13.

"Mom. Katie's baby died."

"What? Oh NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. What happened?"

"They don't know. He was fine. She went into labor. His heart just stopped."

And together my daughter and I wept.

I spend a lot of time thinking about how bad things happen to good people. I don't know why it happens. I don't know what we need to learn. What are we to take from the heart wrenching, gut turning experiences?

I don't know.

What I do know is that hurt and pain and unfairness are a part of this thing we call "Life". It just is and always will be. Does that bring me comfort? No. Does that bring dear Pam and beautiful Katie a sense of purpose behind the hurt and the pain and the loss? Heck no. 

Strength and hope and love and faith in new beginnings will carry them.

So, my dear friends, cry and howl and mourn. Then begin. Heal and grow and believe.

May we all find peace. May we all find joy. May we ALL believe again. Until that time...

(Thank you for sharing this beautiful prayer, Katie, you are wise beyond your years.)

                                       

Tick Tock Tick Tock

I have been wanting to write for a while now. I got slammed with graphics. No. I'm not complaining. Not one bit. Me? No way.

Sigh.

I'm super busy. And super stressed.

Since blogging and (weirdly) cleaning is great therapy for me, I cleaned my house this morning. It looks good. It smells better. I went on the motorcycle with Mark for a bit. I felt the wind. I smelled the great outdoors. AND the sun landed on my shoulders. Now, I'm sitting down for part three of the therapy session. Tag. You're IT!

[insert evil laugh]

Anyone who knows a lick about me knows that I LOVE Tim McGraw. Not just a little. A whole lot.

When I found out that he was in the movie "The Shack", I counted the days to opening night at Cinemark. Tanna was my date. Extra large popcorn (Half kettle corn and half regular popcorn. No butter. Mark taught me no butter - you can eat more popcorn without butter weighing it down. Pat taught me to do half-and-half - because it's simply delicious.) Blankets. Water. Reclining chairs. Tim McGraw. Yep. I was set for a good time.

I won't go much into what the movie is about. I thoroughly enjoyed every minute. I found it humorous in unanticipated ways. I loved how the holy figure was represented unexpectedly.

Time is discussed. I can't find the exact quote from the movie. My memory SUCKS anymore, but the quote was something to the effect of "It's not about the destination, it's about the journey."

Something we hear ALL the time right?

I am a worry-er. I fret. I ponder. I stress. Tons. I live my life according to what the future might hold.  I'm so afraid of change that I freak out over what's ahead in the great unknown. I don't live in the now.

I so want to change that.

I've stated over and over again that I love being a mom. I was made for motherhood. I am strong because my kids are strong. I AM because my family expects absolutely nothing different. I am not allowed to be stagnate, so I wobble forward and learn and grow and become. In case you're wondering, it's why I swear so dang much. However, I do it. And for the most part, I'm grateful that I did.

I usually read every night. I slip on my jammies, climb into bed and after I let loose with a heavy sigh, I grab my book and begin living vicariously through the adventures of the main character.

Except when I'm too exhausted to read. At that time, Mark takes over and reads out loud to me. It's so lame, isn't it? Two old people reading in bed. However, I absolutely-without-a-shadow-of-doubt love this time with Mark and I adore when he reads to me.

Mark keeps the Book of Five Rings within easy grasp. Another book that the Sensei from his karate class gave him to read and we have never returned because Mark has yet to "be done" with it resides on the nightstand as well. We just ordered and received a book by Bruce Lee titled Striking Thoughts that now ornaments the table as well.

Yesterday was an I'm-so-tired-I-can't-stand-it day. Mark read to me. I'm finding the reoccurring theme from these larger-than-life Masters is time. Don't waste it. The past should stay there. The future is unknown. Why not live in today? Don't take preconceived thoughts with you on your daily journey. Be ready to learn and grow and become. No excuses. Just do it.

I was not the Mom that wanted "more" from my kids. I enjoyed baby-hood, terrible twos, toddler-hood, the elementary years, middle school time and alas, the dreaded high school years. I bawled and cried and howled and mourned as each journey came to an end and the door opened for a new adventure.

I worried so much about the changes that might come, that I (at times) forgot to relish the moment.

Then, this dang disease struck.

I find myself paralyzed with fear. I am so scared of what is ahead that I forget to be grateful for the NOW.

I begin my new journey today. At the risk of being lame (and I'm SO lame - trust me) I hereby vow to cherish moments. The things that matter are surrounded by time. Time to laugh. Time to share. Time to simply STOP and be still.

Time IS a gift. Isn't it?