Love Cannot Die

Yes, 2 blog posts in one day. There is a reason for it, though. 18 years ago when my first daughter was born on this day, September 24th, something else took a back seat, my parents' wedding anniversary. Today, however, I must acknowledge another milestone in our household. Along with my oldest daughter turning 18, it also would have been my parents' 50th wedding anniversary. Back in 1960, my parents, Ralph and Peggy, were married in Harrisonburg, VA. The reason they were married in Harrisonburg rather than their hometown of Richmond was because it was a second marriage for both of them, and they couldn't find a local minister who was willing to marry them. How times change! I am thrilled that they found someone who was willing or I would not be here to write this blog. Through the life of their marriage, my parents had their ups and downs, joys and sorrows, and successes and failures, like all married couples, but the thing that I can say about them that impressed me most was their devotion to each other. They took their wedding vows seriously and lived by them:


Mom and Dad at their 25th Anniversary



                For better, for worse

               For richer, for poorer,

              In sickness, and in health,

              To love and to cherish,

              Till death us do part.





I wholeheartedly agree with all of those except for one, "To love and to cherish, Till death us do part." When someone dies, our love for them does not, nor do I believe that their love dies for us. It just takes a different form. Our love lives on in our memories of them, the way we feel when we hear a song that we danced to or see a picture of them. There is a quote from a show called Company of Angels. It is spoken by the character of "Joe", to his mother, "Toby" as he tries to help her accept his death and move on. "Love cannot die, Mama" I know my mother thinks of my dad often. I know she still loves him deeply, and I know my dad's love surrounds her and all of us every day!









My Little Girl Isn't Little Anymore

18 years ago today before the sun came up I was on my way to St. Mary’s Hospital. I had planned to be making this trip earlier in the month, somewhere around the 7th of September, but someone else had other plans. You see, I was pregnant, and my baby was 2 ½ weeks late. When I found out I was going to have a baby way back in December, being the TV buff that I am, my mind brought to memory all those sitcom episodes of the madcap goings on of getting the mom to the hospital. The nervous dad, a la Ricky Ricardo, when Lucy nudges him with that all too familiar sitcom phrase, “Honey, it’s time!” Madness then ensues and somewhere before the rush is over the dad has left for the hospital without Mom in tow. Call me crazy, but I kinda wanted that surprise element, that “Honey, it’s time,” but when Leah refused to come on her due date, we planned an induction. The date had been set for September 24th. I would arrive early and they would induce. For those of you reading this who don’t know, they chemically start your labor with a drug called Pitocin. Call me crazy, but I had decided that I wanted to have my baby naturally, yes, you heard me right, sans drugs, no epidural, feeling everything! What they neglected to tell me was that when you are induced there is no build up, you are in HARD labor immediately. Well after 7 hours of hard labor, and no further along than I was when we started, this chick elected to get an epidural. Good thing, too, I ended up having a C-section. Chemically induced labor was stopped somewhere around 5:00 PM because the stress of it was making my baby’s heart rate drop. The doctor was held up at another hospital, so we waited. Around 8:00 PM things started moving very fast. They wheeled me down the hall to the surgical suite and 16 minutes later Leah was born. 9 lbs. 10 oz. Boy, was I glad I had a C-section! She had dark, dark hair and a lot of it, and her eyes were so puffy I could barely see, but they weren’t that murky blue most babies have. They were dark, dark brown, just like mine. In those 16 minutes my life changed forever.

Today Leah turns 18, society’s and the law’s definition of an adult. That doesn’t seem possible to me. Last night as she walked up the stairs to bed, I jokingly said, “Tomorrow when you wake up, you’re a grown-up. This is your last night as a kid.” How odd that feels. Her childhood is over. When that little puffy eyed baby came into the world, I had such a different vision of what her childhood would be like and what it actually became. I thought she would grow up just like every other kid, with her mom and dad in the house together, a brother or a sister, maybe a pet. She didn’t grow up like that, but I can’t really say that I think it would have been better if she had. She’s grown into a remarkable, confident, talented young woman that has wonderful ambitions for her future, and I know she’ll make them happen! Enjoy your day, my sweet girl, and cut Mom a little slack if you catch me a little teary today. I love you so much!!! You’ll always be my little girl, and I will hold those memories of you close to my heart as long as I can, but I am also proud to call you my friend. Happy Birthday.

One small thing can make such a big difference.

Something happened this morning that has rarely happened in my life, and it gave me a whole different outlook today.

 First let me say that lately, and I'm sure some of my Facebook friends that read this blog can tell from my status updates of late, that things just don't seem to be going my way. And, I am sad to say, I have let it spill over into everything, even the good parts of my life that are going right.

This morning after church the girls and I went to a local restaurant called Boychik's Deli. It's a great place for breakfast. The service is fast and good, and the food is great! On our way in we happened to run into one of the girls' former Sunday school teachers and his wife. As it so happens, they were going to the same place we were. We chatted a bit, and then went our separate ways to get a table in Boychik's. The girls and I ordered and enjoyed a great breakfast. When the waitress brought our food, she laid our check down on the table. Seconds later, another waitress came by the table and picked up the check. I chalked it up to a check mix up, and since we had just started our meal, I knew we would get the right check before we needed to go. When we were about 3/4 of the way through our meal, our waitress came to check on us, and told us that our check had been taken care of by a party up in the front of the restaurant. It ended up being the girls' Sunday school teacher. We were able to catch up with them in the parking lot to thank them.

I'm sure, to them, that was something very small, but it made a huge difference in my life today. It gave me a whole different outlook that there are good, decent people who care about other people in this world. Today someone thought about me. Someone did something nice for me, and they didn't expect anything in return, they didn't even wait to be thanked. They just did it because they wanted to and what an amazing effect it had .

"O Beautiful for Heroes Proved"

Nine years ago I was standing in the front office of the elementary school I was working for. I was getting ready to announce a new incentive program for good behavior in the lunch room over the PA. Just before I was to speak, one of the secretaries told me that a plane had flown into the World Trade Center. I didn't believe her. I thought she must be mistaken. As I made my announcement I didn't think another thing about it because I never dreamed that what she had said was true until the announcements were over. By then the second plane had hit, and started the beginning of a flood of feelings that would run the gamut for the next several hours. The effects of that day would last much longer. Because we were working in an elementary school we were instructed not to talk about what had happened with the children. The decision was made to let the parents of the students discuss the events of the day in their own way. I remember leaving the office and walking down the hall. I wanted to go outside, get some air. I wanted to be with my own children. I wanted to hold them, see their faces. I purposely didn't watch the footage. I have somewhat of a photographic memory, and I just didn't want those images in my head. The day went on forever. We kept the radio on in the workroom, away from the children. We heard the reports of the Pentagon and Flight 93. I thought, "How long is this going to go on?" I felt so many things, shock, disbelief, sick-to-my-stomach, sadness, but the one thing I didn't feel was fear. I don't know why, but I knew I was safe. I have always lived with the feeling that when it is my time, it is my time. There is nothing I can do about it. When I came home that afternoon, I talked with my children, 5 and 8 at the time. My youngest asked me, "Are they coming here?" Now, I must pause at this time to tell you that I live my life with the truth. I do not lie. At the end of every email that I send is this quote by Marcus Aurelius, "If it is not right, do not do it. If it is not truth, do not say it." So when the question was asked, I answered truthfully that I did not know, but that we couldn't live our lives everyday in fear.
So many things changed that day for all of us, all of us in our homes , in our communities, in our country and in our world. Our land of the free and home of the brave had been shattered. We would never again hear a jet flying low overhead and not have just a hint of fear. We would never again arbitrarily pick up a backpack left on a park bench and look through it for the owner's information. It would take us a long while before we would be totally comfortable flying again, and some of us still don't. Innocence was stolen that day, and things will never be the same. It's called terrorism for a reason.
But for all the bad things that came out of that day, the world also saw unity, heroism, courage and bravery beyond anything that could be imagined. So when you remember that day, think of those people who were thrown into a situation they never dreamt they would face and met the challenge with grace and selflessness and put others before themselves. Be thankful and honor their sacrifices by never forgetting 9-11-01.

Turn Around and You're 2, Turn Around and You're 4, Turn Around........

In about 7 hours, the first of many lasts this year will take place. My oldest daughter will begin her senior year thereby starting her last first day of school. 13 years ago I walked an excited little girl in a blue flowered dress and a brand new backpack down to the bus stop for her very first day of kindergarten. She was excited! I felt quite different. Oh, I kept a brave  face for her and kept that plastered smile on my face as she stood so small on what seemed an enormous bus and waved frantically at me grinning from ear to ear. I kept that smile until the door of the bus closed, and then I fell apart. I cried all the way back up the hill to the house. How is it that I remember that as if it were yesterday, and 13 years have passed? She will not be wearing a blue flowered dress tomorrow, and I will not have to hold her hand walking to the bus stop. She will leave the house and walk to school without assistance and the watchful eye of a mom who's not quite ready to let her baby go. I always knew this day would come, but WOW it came fast!!!!! Good luck, my sweet girl. You have turned into a wonderful young lady, and I am very proud. Enjoy your senior year and savor every moment. I know I will!