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Sunday, March 25, 2012

A Restless Night

  I can't sleep. I'm so tired after a long day of  working in the yard, but sleep just will not come. Instead, I'm having a series of panic attacks. Tonight my friend and coworker is slipping away. I hate cancer. I know I overuse the word hate, but as ugly as hate is, cancer is uglier.
 I have prayed for her, and will continue to pray. But, as I pray, I can almost audibly hear God say, "No, not healing. Just ask for peace and comfort for Suzy. I will comfort her."
 I have seen too many lives lost to cancer. It doesn't just take a life. It drags it out slowly like some medieval torture machine. When it's over, the victims family and loved ones have the look of battle worn soldiers. You almost expect them to walk in on crutches, bandaged from head to toe. But there are no bandages that can hold a breaking heart, no crutches to prop up a weary soul.
 The first cancer victim I knew well, was a much loved Sunday school teacher. My friend Ivy and I would go to her house on Saturdays where we would bang on her piano, swing on her porch swing and flirt with her nerdy son. She had a beautiful yard filled with flowers and she made us cookies and ice tea. When she died, her husband closed up the house and let all the flowers die. We never saw that family again.
  My Aunt Eloise was a quiet lady who loved children. I know I must have been an irritating and obnoxious child, but she laughed at all my jokes. When she died, I remember sleeping on the floor at my Aunt Fay's house, listening to Eloise's husband, my Uncle Odis, sobbing loudly, in the next room. He was my daddy's brother, and a 6 foot 5, WW2 hero, wounded in battle and left for dead. Now, cancer had taken his wife. Years later, it would take his life, as well as his daughter's.
  Family, high school friends, the list goes on forever. All we can do is pray and try to prop up all those affected. And maybe try to get a little sleep.

Monday, March 19, 2012

Pioneers and Settlers

 After weeks of beautiful sunshine and warm weather, tomorrow Spring arrives with, of course, much cooler temperatures and wind.
What did I expect? I have lived here in this schizophrenic climate most of my life, and it still catches me off guard. The one consistency, the thing the weather man never gets wrong, is wind.
 I know I complain about the weather here in West Texas a lot, but truth is, I don't want to be anywhere else. I hate to travel and my motto has always been, Home is where your stuff is. I don't mind so much being somewhere else, as long as I can be home in an instant. Like on Star Trek, I want Scottie to beam me up as soon as I am ready to go.
My boss just got back from New York City, and said he had a great time. I think maybe I would like to see New York, then I picture myself, in the middle of this huge city, surrounded by people, and wanting to be home right then. Not as soon as possible, but right then. I know this could happen. It happened to me in the middle of a traffic jam in Atlanta Georgia, while tornado sirens were blaring. It happened to me at a bus stop, with a thousand other people, at midnight in St. Louis. It happened to me in road construction leaving work today.
  I believe the world consist of Pioneers and Settlers. I am a Settler. A hundred or more years ago, the pioneers were rolling across these plains in their covered wagons. One of them, probably a moody blond, said "Hey guys, I think I'm gonna stay here awhile. I know it's windy, and there's nothing but jackrabbits and rattlesnakes, but my butt's tired of riding. I think I can settle for this." Yes, I am a Settler.

Saturday, March 10, 2012

It Only Hurts When I Cry

  You know what makes me sad? Those commercials for antidepressants. You know, the ones that say, "depression hurts", and show the sad faces of people too depressed to function. I don't know what it is about those ads, but they get all over me. Especially when they show their dogs, who look just as sad. But, even that is not as bad as the Humane Society commercials. I'd rather pick at a scab than watch those. Seriously, I change the channel as soon as I hear Sarah McLachlan's voice. Poor ole Sarah. We all now associate her music with sadness. Her next album should be titled, Music To Kill Yourself by.
  Some mornings, I find it hard to face another day. Usually this is after I've had a really good dream where I've spent time with Lauren. It's tough to realize it was just a dream and she is no longer here. On days like that, I can dwell on it or I can choose to be happy.
I never thought I would be able to say that, but it's true.
  You know what makes me happy? Funny people, like the ones I work with. They keep me laughing all day. Also, the four year old girl who comes in the bank every day and ask me, "Hey, do you want to go to a tea party?".
  My children make me happy. I look forward to seeing them whenever I can.
  My dogs are hilarious. Each has a personality of their own.
  It makes my heart swell with joy, knowing baseball season is around the corner.
  Music makes me happy. Last night, Jon and I went to the Amarillo Symphony. The featured violinist was Chee Yun Kim, a music professor from SMU, and the music was Brahms. I don't think I have ever had music bring me to tears, aside from worship. I know it may sound cliche, but it was an emotional experience.
  Also, it makes me happy that Jon and I enjoy the same things, music, baseball, our kids and dogs. We have a lot of fun together. I watched an old couple at the concert last night, who must have been in their late 80's. They were so into each other, it was sweet.
   What makes me very happy, is knowing some morning, I'll wake up and know my time with Lauren has just begun and will never end. Momma will be there and my sister as well. I'm sure there will be music, baseball and some dogs I have been missing.

Friday, March 2, 2012

Happy Birthday Dr Seuss

        Red Fish, Blue Fish, here's a birthday Wish Fish.
        Oh what a time we had with those Rhymes.
        You made our childhood sweet.
        We had a laugh with that Cat In The Hat,
         Green Eggs and Ham and Sam I Am,
         To Think I Saw It On Mulberry Street.
         You're a hundred and eight, so let's cut the cake.
         We Loved you so Dear, dear Dr. Seuss.
          So, give him a cheer! happy B. Day to Yoose!
          Well, I never claimed to be a poet,
           and this awkward verse surely will show it.
           I should stop now, yes I know it,
           if I keep going, I'm sure to blow it.

           But there is much more to be said.
           Like Horton heard a Who, and hatched an egg.
           Hop On Pop, and Put Me In the Zoo
           There's a Wocket In My Pocket
           And The Foot Book too!
           The Lorax loves trees,
            Christmas the Grinch stole!
            And you, Seuss could see,
            Oh The Places We Will Go!



About Me

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A wife, mother, and spoiler of small dogs, I grew up in a small West Texas town, with my eyes full of sand, and my heart full of joy.

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