What Has She Got That I Ain't Got?.....COURAGE!

In about 7 hours my oldest daughter will step onto a stage in New York City to sing. About a month ago she went to New York to audition for a Showcase. For those of you not in the theatre world, a showcase is an event where several people perform to exhibit their talent for casting directors and sometimes agents. She made it into the showcase, a feat in itself, and yesterday at 8AM I dropped her off at the bus station to start her 3 day whirlwind adventure. I have blogged before that my oldest wants to be an actress. So did I at her age (25). Heck, I still do! I'm 54. But she has one thing I really didn't. One thing that will propel her at least half of the way, COURAGE! I would have been scared to death to get on a bus all by myself and travel to the Big City and venture out alone to find my audition site, my performance venue, my whatever. And this isn't the first time she's done it. I know it's the way you have to be in the business, and I am so glad that she got that fearlessness, from where I don't know. It's not in my genes. It is killing me that I can't be there to hear her New York debut, but I know she will kick ass because she wants to! I love you more than anything, sweet girl. This is just the beginning of great, great things! Break a leg and "Sing out, Louise!"

Still, Still, Still

Something happened Friday that made me "take pause," to speak in old fashioned terms. It snowed. Now, it's no secret that I LOVE snow! I always have. I joke and say if I ever get married again, I want it to be in the snow under a full moon. Don't worry. You won't have to go out and buy a formal overcoat anytime soon. (cue rim shot) In all seriousness, snow is magical! Amazingly everything gets quiet. I was driving home in it, and the roads weren't bad yet. It was just falling, and the trees were covered, and it truly looked like a Winter Wonderland. Because of that, this entire weekend I have felt relaxed, not rushed, not obsessed with what has to be done, not running around too busy preparing for a season making it impossible for me to enjoy. 8 years ago I was in a lovely production of  A Christmas Carol that included the carol, Still, Still, Still. I had never heard it before singing it in the show. Part of the lyrics are "Still, still, still, one can hear the falling snow." You have to be still to hear snow falling, not running or rushing around. Friday's snowfall let me be "still." Being still reminded me that this season is about joy! I am happier than I have been in a long time! I am so blessed, and I am going to take time to be still and be thankful for my joy. Can you hear the snow falling?

A Little Message from Kroger

About a week ago I received a pack of coupons from Kroger. You know, the ones that they send you that are actually useful because they are tracking what you're buying using your loyalty card. Here's the thing. They were addressed to Ralph Moore but here at my address. Ralph Moore is my father, and today is the 10th Anniversary of his death. I know all kinds of things are stored in data bases, and things can get mixed up, and my father and I have shared the same address, but I have not lived at that address for 6 years. I have only lived at my present address for a year and a half. How did his name get attached to this address, and how did it get linked to my Kroger card? And right now you're thinking, "why all this tadoo about some coupons? Here's why. I don't think it was a computer glitch at all. I think it was my Daddy's way of letting me know he's still around, and he hasn't really left me totally alone. I've written about my dad before, but I'm not sure I've shared what I'll share today. My dad had a hard life growing up. He was the youngest of I think 7 brothers and sisters. His dad died when he was 3. They were dirt poor living in a tiny town in Georgia. He had one eye that was severely crossed, and he never had any surgery to correct it. As I'm sure you can imagine, that invited a lot of teasing. He dropped out of high school because of, what we would label bullying today, not because he was scared, but he didn't want to be involved in the fights anymore. He was smart as a whip, and I know, given the chance, he could have had every degree available. Life just never gave him the chance. I got the feeling from talking to him that no one was really in his corner rooting for him, encouraging him or even pushing him to his potential. For all of that background, he could have been nothing, but he wasn't. The first memories I have of my dad were of him working for NCR - National Cash Register - He repaired cash registers. He was on the cutting edge of technology as NCR sent him to school to learn about the way the "new" computerized cash registers would work. Consequently, he knew more about computers than anyone I knew. He could always figure it out. He had that kind of brain. That makes him sound analytical and cold, but he was anything but. He would cry at the littlest things that touched him. He was probably the biggest reason I have such a sensitive side. I joke all the time that I cry at a Hallmark commercial. The biggest thing I want the world to know about my dad was that he was always in my corner. He believed in me and everything I wanted to do. He always supported me from the time I was singing in the Cherub choir at age 3 to attending the numerous shows I was in until his health prevented him from doing so.  Until the day he died, he was trying to get me to send a tape of me singing, and then in later years, me and my girls singing together to someone because he just knew we would be famous. A good part of who I am is because of my dad. Through everything, good and bad, I knew he loved me ALWAYS! I miss him a lot, but I know he's around. He just used Kroger to remind me. LOVE YOU, DADDY!
Note: I started writing this on 11/16, the true anniversary.

Make Your Own Joy

I sat in church today, and the preacher said something that struck me. He talked about "waiting for your joy." Waiting for my joy...that concept of, "if I could just get this or that, I'd be happy." I fell into that trap and fell out or was pushed out, when at 34, I had nothing, less than nothing, well, materially speaking. When I was married appearances were a big deal. And for all of our "things" that we thought we needed to look good to everyone else, and we thought made us happy didn't hold our marriage together when it EXPLODED! Oh, we looked happy to everyone else, the perfect couple, the perfect family, and maybe we thought we were, but there was no joy! It took me being in a situation totally bereft of anything except 2 precious children and family and friends surrounding me to help me heal to realize that fact. I have lived single now for almost 20 years. Most of those years I have struggled financially. I haven't had a real vacation in 14 years, but God gives me joy every day! I may not always recognize it, or, worse yet, appreciate it, but my new life has been filled with real joy, the kind you make from what's provided. I titled this post Make Your Own Joy, but maybe it should be Recognize the Joy Given to You. Start looking for your joy. It's there, I promise!

Don't Feed the Animals!

Last night my youngest daughter said something to me that I didn't really take as seriously as I should have. I am sure everyone knows by now what happened in my home state of Virginia on Saturday. I even wrote a post about it just a couple of days ago. I have to say I have become a little obsessed with reading all the articles, and interviews, and tweets about the event and the "president's" (lower case intended) response to the entire situation. Along with reading that news, I am also reading comment after comment from people about each article, etc. etc., the good and the bad. She looked at me and said, "I don't want you on your phone all of the time reading all this negative stuff." I put it away until I was by myself much later last night, and I began to look through Facebook again. Opening up each MUST READ. I came upon an HBO documentary about last Saturday's events, an inside look at what led up to, and all during the monstrosity from the perspective of the "Alt-Wrong" It was truly terrifying! Every word out of these people's mouths was hurtful and hateful and disgusting. They are so angry, and with the empowerment and approval of the "president" they are ready to "Take back their country" by FORCE. There are 2 words missing from that sentence, "if necessary." The reason they are missing is because they are planning on using force. They want to. They can't wait for the next time to see how they can top last Saturday. Killing one girl wasn't enough. In their leader's own words, they showed restraint Saturday. To me that means one death was not enough, they want more. They are blood thirsty animals, and they scare the shit out of me! I was more frightened by Saturday's events than I was after 9/11. I had a hard time going to sleep last night. My little girl was right. How can I function when every free moment I am reading about hate and evil and violence? Will Smith said, "Racism isn't getting worse. It's getting filmed." That's it! It has always been there, but now we literally have the ability to see everything that is going on everywhere every minute of the day, and we have become addicted to it, at least I have. The monkey on my back is Facebook. Facebook started out for me as a way to see friends and their kids and to connect about shows and to make up funny things to be my "status, " and scrolling through, I saw much of the same, but, like everything else, it has evolved, and I don't really like what it has become, but I can't let go. Not just about this issue, but I have seen friends attacked verbally, and, no, I am not exaggerating, for posting a video or quote that they believe in or find poignant, or thought-provoking, and people tear into them as if they had challenged them to a duel. I will guarantee those same people would not have the guts to blast with both barrels if they were having a conversation face-to-face, but hiding behind the phone or computer screen they are empowered. Well, I'm sick of it! ALL of it! Now, please don't take this as me putting my head in the sand and pretending none of this is happening. I'm not! I have other ways of finding things out, keeping abreast of current events. I do not need it in my face every waking moment. Can we go back to the days of "Film at 11?" I know it's out there, and I want to make it go away, but I will be honest, I don't want to put myself in harm's way, nor do I want my children to put themselves in harm's way. If that makes me a coward, well, paint me yellow. I am all about standing up for what is right and what I believe in, but these people aren't Westboro Baptist Church. They are armed and dangerous, and they want to fight! They also want attention as does their inspiration, DJT. You can't fight these people with love, not as an organized group at least. You fight all of this by not engaging, not paying attention. If no one is there to film their ridiculous behavior and their words of hate and disrespect, it takes the wind out of their sails. "If a tree falls in the forest..."
When all of this happened Saturday, and there was rumor that it would happen here as well, someone commented to let them show up to a literal Ghost Town, no businesses open, no one on the street, nothing, including NO MEDIA! To whom would they spew their hate then? It would be as if they had never been there. I like that idea, a lot! I just wish that we could all agree to do exactly that. I am, at least going to start by trying not to dwell on the negative. If you starve the animal, it cannot live! Don't feed the BEAST!

The Beast is FREE

It is a little after 10 on Sunday night, and I have just come in from standing outside holding a tiny tea light candle (because it was the only thing I could find) as a vigil for Heather Heyer, a girl I never met and whose family I do not know. In fact I know nothing about her except this: Yesterday she was mowed down by a car that purposely drove into a group of people gathered to oppose the "Alt-Right" (TRANSLATION: WHITE SUPREMACISTS, NAZIS and the KKK) at their "Unite the Right" (which I would like to refer to it as "Unite the Wrong") rally in Charlottesville on Saturday morning. Supposedly these groups were there to protest the removal of a statue of Robert E. Lee from a park in Charlottesville. I say supposedly because if all they were there to do was protest, make their voice and opinions heard, why did they show up in riot gear with clubs and guns and other weapons?
Charlottesville is an hour's drive from me. I have been there many times. It's a quiet little college town. Friday night it turned into something else. It was as if some giant clock had been turned back to 1950. Hundreds of white men carrying tiki torches - don't even get me started on the irony of that - flooded UVA's campus standing in front of the Rotunda chanting "You will not replace us" "Jews will not replace us." (Side note: What do Jews have to do with anything about the Robert E. Lee statue?), but I digress. Here's the thing. They weren't there about the statue at all. That was the excuse for white men from all over the country to come to this little town to intimidate people with fear and hate, because that's what their groups are about. They hate people who aren't white. I did not know this until today as I just read an article from UVA's president's perspective about Friday night, but the Tiki Torch Terrorists were violent on Friday night when they gathered in front of the Rotunda when NO ONE was there to oppose them. They were primed and ready to cause some trouble on Saturday. They never made it to where the rally was to be held because it was broken up before then, and yes, both sides did engage, but no one in that group of people walking away from the rally was doing anything to provoke anyone. They were trying to walk through a very narrow street to get back to their cars or their homes, much like they would be if they were leaving a huge concert, and this car speeds through and purposely hits them. Heather Heyer was in that group, and she died Saturday. SHE DIED!!! Correction: She was murdered.
When I woke up Saturday, image after image popped up as I scrolled through my newsfeed on Facebook, and I thought, this can't get worse. What is going on? A Nazi flag was being carried, proudly, mind you,  through the streets of a little town in my state, and before the day was over an innocent girl had been murdered. What the hell people? The beast has been let out of its cage, and I have no idea how we are going to get him back in again and at what cost?

A Bug Bite That's Lasted 43 Years

43 years ago today, something very exciting happened. It was the opening night of my very first professional show. On July 25, 1974, The Music Man opened at Swift Creek Mill Playhouse. I was playing Amaryliss. I was paid $5.00 per show, and I believe the ticket prices back then were something like $14.50, and that included a delicious buffet dinner AND the show. And who could forget the wonderful loaves of Mill bread and fresh whipped butter, but I digress.
A little back story on what led to this moment. Picture it, Richmond, 1974, I was a 4th grade student at St. Catherine's School for girls playing to packed houses as the wife of the Shoemaker in The Shoemaker and the Elves. This role, of course, was given to me after an unforgettable performance the previous year as the Teeny Weeny Bean in Mr. MacGregor's garden in Peter Rabbit. My drama teacher, Gretchen Buis, told me about a theater that was holding auditions for The Music Man, and they needed a little girl my age. I had to sing a song, and they might have me read a scene. I wanted to do it, but it was my first real audition, and I had no idea what to expect. My sweet Daddy drove me down to Swift Creek Mill Playhouse in Colonial Heights. I don't remember much about the day, but I do remember walking up the steps and into the theater, through the house to the stage. I sang a song that I had sung in my church junior choir called, God Who Touchest Earth with Beauty. I can still see the cover of the anthem. It was olive green with a black peacock on the cover. If you asked me to sing the whole song right now, I could. And, no, Georgi Hicks and Jenna Stickley, I don't remember what I wore (inside joke). Later I read Amaryliss' scene. It called for her to cry. I must have done alright with the scene because I was cast. I didn't really know what it all meant back then. I had no idea what it would lead to. I just knew I liked doing plays. I didn't feel effected by it all. I didn't think I was special. I was just glad to be doing this cool thing. We started with music rehearsals with the late Wayne Batty at the helm as music director. Mr. Batty was, at the very least, intimidating. He looked exactly what you would expect a Maestro to look like with his brushed back, shoulder length hair. Amaryliss has a small duet with Marian, played by the lovely Lynn West, on Goodnight, My Someone. The first time I had to sing it in front of the whole cast. I was a little nervous, but everyone was as sweet as they could be. We went through weeks of music and then staging of the show, and I learned what blocking was and notes and all the things that now seem second nature to me. I had to learn to play this piano piece. I truthfully can't believe I did that, and, no, I couldn't play that now if you asked me. Finally it came time for opening. I obviously was not accustomed to the opening night tradition of dressing up. My family had gone to the circus at the Fairgrounds earlier that day, and I was dusty and ragged when I got to the show. I was wearing navy blue culottes with a red dotted mushroom appliqued on it. Take that, Georgi and Jenna. I wasn't playing Amaryliss on opening night. I alternated nights with another little girl, and she was doing Opening night, something that turned out to be a blessing in disguise as I was playing Amaryliss on the dress rehearsal night that all the promo shots were taken (See photo above). On the nights I wasn't Amaryliss, I was in the ensemble. I loved every minute of being in this show, all 5 months we ran. I made friendships that I still have today, and learned so much from the director, the late Buddy Callahan. I was bitten by the theatre bug back in 1974, and I have been in love with the theatre ever since. I have been lucky enough to consistently act in theatre and film for the last 43 years, and I have no intention of stopping anytime soon. In a little over a month, at 53, I will begin a new career of teaching music and drama to little ones. Maybe they can catch the bug from me, and the joy it has given me will spread through generations. I can only hope.

You Just Couldn't Say Good-bye

It has been almost a month since I had my follow-up to the follow-up MRI to check the status of Mike Wazowski and his residence in my brain. If you follow this blog or you know me, you know that in September of 2015 I was diagnosed with a tumor on my pituitary gland. A tumor that even the neurosurgeon described as HUGE. From the MRI pictures you could see that the tumor was a big round circle with a smaller darker circle inside of it. The smaller circle looked like an eye, so I "lovingly" named the tumor Mike Wazowski. In July of 2016 I found out that after surgery, Mike was still hanging out, at least part of him, and he had brought along a friend, a cyst growing in the exact same place where Mike had been evicted. Surgery number 2 in November 2016, Follow-up MRI in February of 2017, and finally, Follow-up to the follow-up just last month. The good news is the cyst is gone. The other news, I won't call it bad, is that Mike has left a little piece of himself with me. I knew this right after my second surgery. There was a little piece of the tumor attached to a blood vessel in my brain. As I'm sure you can imagine, that's pretty delicate stuff. The neurosurgeon couldn't just go ripping things off of a blood vessel, and so Mini Mike was allowed to stay with the understanding that his blood supply would be cut off, and he would be getting a weekly dose of Cabergoline, a drug that inhibits his growth. Just last week I saw my neurosurgeon to find out how Mini Mike was dealing with these terms. Here's the good news about the "not bad" news. Mini Mike hasn't invited anyone else in, and he hasn't gotten any bigger. He's just staying right where he was, away from my optic nerves and anything else that might cause me trouble. Dr. Sahni, my neurosurgeon, and I decided to just let Mini Mike stay, and, for now, we would extend his conditional lease for another 6 months. Did I want him to move out totally? Absolutely, but I guess he just couldn't say Good-bye, and, for now, I'll indulge him as long as he goes by the rules.

"I Can Keep You Safe."

Lately I have been extremely busy. I run from job to grabbing something to eat to performing at night. Work is busy too, so I find very little time to watch the news or troll Facebook. I actually have really weaned myself off of Facebook since the election. My newsfeed is no longer filled with updates from my friends and family but article after article depicting the world going to "Hell in a Hand basket." I know this sounds really apathetic, and I don't mean to be that way, but I don't want to be bombarded with depression and anxiety. It doesn't mean I don't care. I just can't read all that after a long day that starts at 7AM and ends at Midnight or after. Last night I got on Facebook to see if there were any new pictures from my sister who is in Aruba, and I came across the video of the shooting of Philando Castile that is focusing on his girlfriend and their little girl. First of all, to be totally transparent, and I am ashamed to say this, when the verdict broke, I did not even know who Philando Castile was. That, in itself, I suppose is telling of how commonplace this type of incident has become. When this video came up in my newsfeed, I almost didn't play it, but I did, and I was absolutely heartbroken. A four year old child, let me say that again, A FOUR YEAR OLD CHILD, has just witnessed something that any of us would hope we would never see in a lifetime. A shooting, and not only a shooting, but the shooting of her own father, into a car where she is sitting. After this you can hear her trying to comfort her mother. "I don't want you to get shooted!" "Please stop saying cusses and screaming because I don't want you to get shooted." "I can keep you safe." " I'm scared." It was so sad! First off, let me say, this is not a post about bashing law enforcement. I cannot imagine what it is like to do a job like that every day, not knowing what you will face each time you stop a car or walk into a house responding to a call. I couldn't do it, but you know what? I am not a policeman. I know I would be scared, and I know that that fear would affect my performance on the job. That is why I have not chosen that profession. After I saw the video of the little girl and her mother, I watched the Dashcam video. It depicts the entire incident. This officer is clearly nervous, understandable, every situation can turn on a dime, but Mr. Castile is cooperating. He is speaking in a calm tone. He even tells the officer he has a firearm in the car. He is literally going "by the book" to make sure things don't go wrong. When he tells the officer he has a firearm, that's when everything starts to go wrong. The officer is clearly nervous and begins to yell, and then all of a sudden he draws and just begins shooting into the car at Mr. Castile, not 1 shot but 7 rounds at point blank range. He then stands there with the gun still aimed at Castile. He looks almost frozen with fear. Another officer comes up, and it looks as if he almost has to pry the gun out of his hands. After the shots are fired, the officer does say Code 3 shots fired. Code 3 is requesting Emergency response, lights and siren, from Police. I am not certain whether that also requests EMT's. Later in the video, EMT workers arrive and can be seen performing CPR after the lifeless body is pulled out of the car. The officer also says "Fuck" several times. The way you say "Fuck" when you feel like something went horribly wrong - just my opinion, not fact. It's very hard to watch the situation unfold. This is not a gunfight. We are not busting into a known drug ring's or gang's headquarters. We are on the side of the road at a routine traffic stop. According to the FBI, In 2015, 6 officers were killed in traffic stops. James O. Pasco, the executive director of the Fraternal Order of Police, is quoted as saying, "The two most dangerous things that an officer can undertake are responding to a domestic violence complaint and stopping a car." So, yes, I understand the cautious way in which a stop needs to be dealt with, but this officer clearly loses it! Mr. Castile is trapped in the car. He even has his seat belt on. He could not have dodged the bullets if he tried. The officer continues to yell into the car at Mr. Castile, who am sure is bleeding out and no threat. Do I think the officer approached the vehicle with the intent on killing Mr. Castile? No, but his crime was that he panicked, and made a very poor decision, and everything snowballed from there. Do I think Castile should be convicted of 1st degree murder, No, but definitely Manslaughter. No question, and he definitely should not be a policeman in the field any longer, and he should not be allowed to carry a gun. I'm sorry, if you're going to panic or get jumpy in a tense situation, you should not be a policeman!
"I can keep you safe." Can you, sweet little angel? I don't think you can. Unless something is done to stop this, I don't think any of us can.

I Couldn't Be Prouder

Tomorrow is Mother's Day. As a mother we have so many hopes and dreams for our children. I am no different. My youngest daughter, Georgi, has made some major decisions in her life recently, and her story is one that, I'm sure, will inspire hundreds of others. I have invited her to be my guest blogger today. Here is her story:
             One of the biggest challenges I face in my own faith, in times of great stress or pain, is trusting that God has a plan for me; that will make me happy and successful, even in the lowest of times, when nothing really seems to make sense or have purpose. Knowing that there is a Big Picture that is beautiful, even when you don’t have any of the pieces that make it up, gives me hope. We ask God, “Why?” a lot in the time that we are waiting for these pieces to come together. We cry out in despair, anger, anxiety and worry, because at the very core I think we know we are undeserving of that grace. Because of this, we also worry that we may never see that big picture.

But, something I have recently discovered is that God has a plan for us. This is not only because he wants us to be joyful and live happily ever after, but also because, through that journey there are lives that we are supposed to touch and possibly even change. Whether or not we believe that we deserve happiness and blessings, we are shown that grace because it is how we work in other people's lives. Our big pictures are not just about us, but are about everyone we have the opportunity to love. We can only inspire others while we ourselves are inspired, and we can only be inspired when we trust God to inspire us. So, I am writing this post today because when I fell to my knees and found myself at my lowest point, I finally looked up and was given the pieces to my big picture. I was given the gift of inspiration and for that; I feel I should share it.

This past year I found myself desperately searching for something. I didn’t know what it was, but I did know that without it I felt lost and a bit empty. Early last spring I was nearing the end of my sophomore year in college. Out of the five classes I was taking in that second semester, only one of them counted toward my major. I was advised to take five classes because I needed five credits to be on track to graduate.  Therefore, I found myself enrolling in any classes I could get into once I finally had access to do so. These courses were taken in order to meet the credit requirements that were suggested by my advisor to graduate. Needless to say, I was in three classes that required a lot of hard work, but didn’t pique my interest or work in harmony with my end goal. I was overwhelmed, constantly drowning in work that I was neither inspired by nor passionate about, and saw no end in sight. I didn’t realize how much this stress was affecting me, or how unhappy I was, until I was taking a test that I had studied hours for, yet my mind went completely blank. I had facts in my brain but could not bring them forward. I remembered reading about the subjects each question addressed, but nothing more than the familiarity of the subjects came to mind. I couldn’t help but feel panicked and anxious, so all I could do was try to finish as quickly as I could so I could get out of that room.

When I got home, I sat in silence wondering how I had gotten to this point. I wondered how it could have gotten this bad without my noticing, and I realized that I wasn’t happy to begin with. I always felt like I needed to cry, was always agitated and/or very angry over small things. I dreaded going to class and avoided making friends. I was also obviously losing grip of my short term memory. I had no self-confidence, and my depression and anxiety had almost become crippling. I wasn’t living; I was just merely getting by.

After coming to this realization, it did not take me long to make the decision to leave school. It was an easy decision in terms of my health, but a very hard decision to make in terms of my future, and what I had planned for myself. I would use this time to take care of myself because I had completely lost myself, and had forgotten how to get back to who I was. I will never be able to express how sorry I am to my family for how awful I must have been during this time, or how thankful I am to them for loving me unconditionally anyway.

Fast forward a year. I’ve worked a retail job at Ulta as a beauty advisor for a year and have learned a lot about people, cosmetics, customer service, and the importance of employee support. I can’t say, honestly, that I have enjoyed this job, for multiple reasons, but I learned a lot of valuable things about hard work. I also met a few amazing people including one of my managers who saw and appreciated the value of having a hard worker, and a coworker who made my last months there bearable, and who I know, is going to be one of my truest best friends until we’re old, grumpy cat ladies. Even though this place gave me things that I am thankful for, it was a place that I desperately needed to get out of.

Now comes the happy and maybe even inspirational part of this post. During this entire year, I constantly prayed for God to help me find my happiness as well as my path. I had felt disconnected from God during this time and constantly prayed to him, but never felt like he was answering me. I knew he hadn’t abandoned me, but I was broken and desperately wanted to see the bigger picture. Little did I know, this “bigger picture” was made up of three different pieces. Each piece came at the exact times I needed them, but I didn’t see them for exactly how special they were until just recently when they all came together.

1. The first of the three pieces was rediscovering my passion for art. My mother has always seen potential in me when it came to art, potential that I never saw myself. I hadn’t really done anything with art, other than photography, since middle school and didn’t ever think of it as something I had lost or something that would bring so much of me back to life. When I took art classes in middle school, I never felt like I had ever really found a style that was uniquely mine. My mom reintroduced me to that part of myself by getting me a bunch of adult coloring books and really nice colored pencils for Christmas and my birthday. I was surprised at how much calmer, and more like myself, I felt just by having control over the colors and shading I chose, as well as the creative aspects of simply coloring. I discovered my unique style when, on a whim, I decided to paint the stained glass art from the beginning of Disney’s Beauty and the Beast on a wooden ‘L’ for my sister Leah’s birthday. It turned out really nice, which surprised me being that I think I am awful at painting, and this inspired me to create other images in this stained glass style. I sat down one day and began to create a Wizard of Oz piece in a similar stained glass style for my mother, because it is her favorite movie of all time. It flowed out of my hands faster than I could really comprehend and once I added the colors and shading, I knew that I had found a style of art that was uniquely mine. All of a sudden, I found myself creating a new piece every free minute I had, and before I knew it I was inspired by this new passion I had found and wanted to turn into a business. I named it “WiseCracksArt”, created an email account, a Facebook page, and Instagram account and have gotten so much support and love from both people I know as well as people I don’t. My art is now in the homes of a few friends and family who seemed to love the style I had found, and I have just recently sold my first piece. My art was the first piece to my “big picture” because It brought back such an important part of myself that I had lost. It gave me something to be passionate about, and every time I created a piece I felt closer to God. When I start a piece, it’s almost as if I feel my talent is not my own. I am just the lucky person that God is working through. When it flows from my head to my hand to the paper, I can tell that I am not creating by myself, and have always believed that my talents are gifts from God. Therefore, I can never fully claim these talents as my own. Humility is knowing that your talent is God working through you in order to reach other people. In accepting this, we will sometimes fall short because we are imperfect.

2. The second piece of my picture is actually not a thing, but is a family. In January 2015, the church I attend welcomed a new minister to youth and young adults along with his wife into our church family. Over the course of that first year I got to know them both a bit when William gave me the opportunity to help out with a youth event. Afterward, he then extended the invitation for me to be a part of the team of youth leaders on a weekly basis. Though I appreciated this and have absolutely loved it, it wasn’t until January of the next year that I truly realized what a blessing they would be in my life. That January, they welcomed two baby girls into their world. From the moment I found out they were pregnant, I was nothing but thrilled for them, but had never been a baby person. Even the first several times that I had an opportunity to hold one of the girls, I politely declined and that was that. A little later when I was asked to help in the nursery four Wednesdays in a row, I was stuck with them, and couldn’t be more thankful that I was. One of the girls was a bit fussy my first Wednesday. Everyone had tried to calm her down, yet nothing had worked, so finally it was my go. She was squirming a lot to see everything, so I paid attention to that and held her in a way that she could see everything but could also relax and be comfortable. She fell asleep in a matter of minutes. I felt like some magical wizard in the nursery for the next few Wednesdays, but in reality, I had just connected with her. Because of the bond I was forming with the girls, I had also developed a closer relationship with their parents, whether I was babysitting for them or just going over to hang out with the babies and their mom whenever she needed help. Little did I know that all of this was just working up to something that would save me from a job I mentally couldn’t do anymore. Their mother would be getting a promotion at work, which meant more responsibilities and more hours. They had thrown out the idea of making me their nanny sort of casually, so I assumed they may have been joking around at first because this seemed too good to be true. It seemed at times that it would not materialize for a while, but finally the stars aligned and we had a start date. I gave my two weeks’ notice and everything fell into place. I would get to take care of these two little angels that I had grown to love so much, work for their parents who I had grown to love so much, and got to leave a work environment that brought stresses that were not far from the reasons I had left school. I thought that this alone was my saving grace. Not only did I gain a job that I loved, I also gained two amazing and true friends. When I had been at school, I shut down and kept to myself. I alienated myself from any old friends and from any potential new friends. Then working a stressful job, I couldn’t find the time or energy to reconnect or find new friends other than Alexa, one of my co-workers, so their friendship and support meant the world to me. I had another part of my life where I felt safe and supported and loved another piece to my big picture.

3. The third piece to this big picture comes in the form of an unexpected opportunity. On March 25th at 1:22, I got a text from my step sister April, inviting me to her Mary Kay Grand opening celebration at her house. It was to celebrate her and her new adventure, starting as a brand new independent beauty consultant with Mary Kay. At 1:23 on March 25th I replied, “That sounds great! I would love to!!” Let me start by telling you, this is not something I saw myself ever being interested in attending. One, because I don’t like gatherings where I don’t know the majority of the people or gatherings with a lot of people in general, and two, because Mary Kay was something I pre-judged as “something people tried to sell my mother forever ago”.  Also, just recently working at Ulta, this was not something I was intrigued by....So, I don’t know what possessed me to immediately say I would love to go, but that is what happened. The night of the party comes around, and I am anxious, which is my usual reaction to anything new, (or anything period) but I picked up the friend who kindly agreed to go with me and we headed to April’s house. As soon as April's sales director Karen started April’s grand opening, I was immediately put at ease. She was very real and genuine and clearly very passionate about what she did. I have never been someone who was sold easily. I come from a family that has always had to be very careful with money, because we never had much, but every product Karen talked about, I wanted! It was easy to see that she was so excited about each product, which meant she believed in each product, meaning that they worked. I was swept up in all of it, and wanted to try all of the products, but she not only shared the products with us, but also shared the business opportunity of Mary Kay. This was the part I wasn’t looking forward to, but she didn’t present the opportunity by bragging about everything she had accomplished or benefits she’s received. She did not present it by begging or pressuring anyone. She presented it as something that she has loved seeing change women's lives in such an amazing way, and would love to see change ours. You could see that her favorite part of her career was being able to help women, in whatever form that took, with her Mary Kay business. I was so inspired by her passion and excitement, and couldn’t stop my mind from imagining what a career in Mary Kay would look like in my life. I received a certain trait from my mother, which she had gotten from her father. We have all of these really big ideas, but let them slip away because they seem too unattainable and overwhelming, so when I took the packet of information that shared more specifics about the Mary Kay Business, I expected the same thing to happen to this exciting opportunity. Even though the packet sat in the floor of my car for about a week, my mind couldn’t shake the idea of a career in Mary Kay. I never stopped thinking about it. It didn’t slip away. Even when I told my mom about it, she had complete faith that I could be very successful at it. One of the reasons I had never seen myself doing anything like this is because I had always been afraid to fail, whether I failed because I didn’t know what I was doing, or because I wasn’t organized, or wasn’t confident enough in the choices and skills that were required. But, one of the first things I heard Karen ever talk about was how excited she was for April and her new business. She then went on to reassure all of us by saying that we had nothing to worry about, and that she would take care of April and ensure that April was trained, confident in what she was doing, and successful. This was so simple, but was one of the main reasons I felt confident in my decision to start. Knowing you always have someone there for you, that supports and encourages you, and has an answer for every question you have, whenever you have it, makes a life changing decision like this a lot less scary and overwhelming. All of this happened in the middle of a time when my mother and I knew, financially, we would need help soon, and for some reason, I did not worry one bit about it because I knew we would be okay. I didn’t know how I knew, but I knew. The next day, God placed the first step of this journey in my path and I could not ignore it. I waited until I got paid, and that night the first thing I did was get on my computer and become a new Independent Beauty consultant on April’s Mary Kay team. I placed my order for my starter kit on a Tuesday and got it that Thursday, right before I had my first new consultant boot camp training at Karen’s house. In the time between Tuesday and Thursday the only problem I found on my heart, before I got all my products to try in my kit, was the fact that so many of my friends who were my age might have the same first thought about Mary Kay that I had. I knew I wanted to change the way people viewed Mary Kay. People who already used Mary Kay products absolutely loved them, but I wanted to reach people my age as well with this amazing business and these amazing products. I wanted everyone, no matter what age, to see that Mary Kay is the product for them. Thursday, on the way to my first training, I had this panicked feeling again. I was growing more and more antsy as I tried to make my way through the traffic and get to Karen’s house in time. I finally got there and tried to calm myself down while walking up to her front door. I rang the doorbell, and she answered with a very warm welcome telling me how excited she was for me! As I turned the corner to sit at the table with the rest of the new beauty consultants, I saw printed words in a frame hanging on the wall over Karen’s right shoulder. “‘For I know the plans I have for you’ declares the Lord. ‘Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future’ Jeremiah 29:11.” This bible verse is tattooed on my sister’s wrist and is her favorite verse. Yes, I know it has been said that this is one of the most commonly quoted, tattooed, and favorite verses from the bible, but it was the perfect message and sign from God at that moment. I had been using and trying out the Mary Kay products in my starter kit for a week and realized why I was anxious about what other people would think. It was because I did not fully believe in the product yet and still had the assumption, myself, that these products couldn’t reach everyone. I let my own fear of my idea about Mary Kay freak me out. This completely melted away when I tried the products. Everything I have tried is amazing and I was overwhelmed again, but not by anxiety, by excitement. I finally understood and experienced the passion that Karen exuded the first time I met her. Karen also invited me to a leadership luncheon, which was my first time meeting a large group of accomplished successful leaders on the Mary Kay team. I’m sure you could say it with me at this point, I was anxious about it. Anyway, I could have said no or that I was busy, but for some reason, again, I just said yes and that I would be there. Every single woman I came in contact with that day was so sweet and supportive. The group is a family of women that thrive off of seeing their friends achieve success. There is not a bit of envy or competition; only room for growth, love, and support.

I could go on and on, and already have, but I will not share every detail today. I just wanted to start this part of my life the right way, and wanted to share it the right way. I wanted to tell everyone about it in a way that made it clear what a blessing it has already been, and how excited I am. I have been on her team for three weeks, and not one day has passed where I have not woken up with a fire in my soul to constantly be learning more. Writing this now, my heart is beating fast and my wheels are turning. I knew I was meant to take this journey when the drive and excitement that was pushing me to work hard on it no longer had anything to do with the money, but had to do with loving and wanting to share the products and the possibilities with other people. I am not doing this because I might need a woman to buy products from me, I am doing this because a woman might need me, this opportunity, to be pampered, or might need something to make her feel beautiful. I have always been happiest when I have the chance to affect someone else in a positive way, and that is what Mary Kay is all about. Karen said, “Maybe Mary Kay is not my dream, but it is the vehicle to achieving my dream,” and this is the third piece of my “big picture”. I’m not saying there will not be other pieces, I’m only 21, and there may even be other pictures. But right now, this picture looks pretty good. I am not just surviving, I am living, and it is nice to be able to say that again. Thank you for loving and supporting me. And thank you, Mommy, for literally everything.

It's Not Easy Being Green

Today marks the 62nd birthday of Kermit the Frog. Hard to believe the little green guy could be a card carrying member of AARP, but he is, or is he? He is not because, unlike us, Kermit has never aged from the time he broke onto the scene in 1955. I grew up with Kermit on Sesame Street, one of the first original characters of that show, and so did my daughters. Kermit was the star in our house daily as my oldest daughter at the age of 2 played a Sesame Street video of a "Greatest Hits Countdown" type of show Muppet Style over and over. Kermit's contribution to the countdown was a song called "Doo Wop Hop" Most afternoons Leah was in the living room hopping right along with Kermit. My earliest memories of Kermit were the Reporter on Sesame Street with standing in Trench Coat and Press Hat, and always opening with "Kermit the Frog here." I was in high school when The Muppet Movie came out, and I knew all the words to Rainbow Connection. I saw it at The Willow Lawn theater, now torn down, and I'm pretty sure I saw it more than once. Kermit was always the straight man, and he played it well. I have always said that Jim Henson, Kermit's creator and his voice, was a genius. I have never watched Kermit or any of the Muppets for that matter, and thought, "That's just a puppet." They have always been real live personalities to me. I used to say I would never want to go to the warehouse or room where they are kept when they are not "performing." It's pretty amazing to think that some green felt with half ping pong balls for eyes can be that real, but he was to me, and still is, and I imagine will be for many years and generations to come. Happy Birthday, Kermit! Thanks for making our lives a little greener!

What a Long Strange Trip It's Been!

Well, it's about that time again. Time to update you on the status of the eviction of Mike Wasowski and his "Cysta." It has now been exactly 4 months since I had my second surgery to try to kick Mike Wasowski to the curb.
Quick Timeline of Events to this point: 
September 2015 - Can't see images in eye test. 1st Doc gives Dx of Macular Degeneration
                              Get second opinion. 2nd Doc discovers NO PERIPHERAL VISION thru Field                                  of Vision test. Suspects Pituitary Tumor affecting Optic Nerves. Referral to 
                              Neurosurgeon.
October 2015 -     MRI
                              Results show huge tumor taking up the space in the Brain called the Cella.                                        Immediate surgery is suggested.
                             I wait 2 weeks until my show closes
October 27, 2015 - Surgery to remove Tumor (Mike Wasowski)
December 31, 2015 - MRI
March 2016 -    Neurosurgeon breaks the news that there is some tumor left.
July 2016     -    MRI
September 2016 - Neurosurgeon tells me a cyst has developed where the tumor used to be. I will                                  need surgery AGAIN
                            2nd Field of Vision test shows cyst is already affecting vision
November 2, 2016 - 2nd surgery to remove leftover tumor and cyst. 
February 2017 - MRI

Which brings us to today. Well, there is good news and, well, not bad news, but not the "Yay! I'm rid of Mike forever!" news I'd hoped for. On February 20th I went to my wonderful Opthalmologist, Dr. Juan Astruc, the man responsible for diagnosing me correctly, and, not to be over dramatic, but for saving my eyesight and maybe my life. Another Field of Vision test, my third. My peripheral vision has returned 100% in both of my eyes. I am thrilled. He was too! You never really realize how much you use your peripheral vision until you lose it. Definitely encouraging news! Which brings me to my next Dr. Visit, Dr. Sahni, my neurosurgeon.
Most of us have lived somewhere for a long period of time, our childhood home or our first home with our spouse. It's hard to leave that to move on. Mike lived in my brain for at least 10 years. You might say he grew up there, and obviously he did not want to leave. Well, this time he's gone, but he left something behind for me to remember him. Truthfully, this memento was left from the very first surgery, but I had forgotten until I spoke with Dr. Sahni this past Tuesday. My daughter reminded me on the way home. Going back to post 1st surgery, there was a tiny bit of the tumor attached to a blood vessel. As you can imagine, that is a delicate situation. You don't just go cutting away next to something that could potentially cause a hemorrhage in your brain. After the 2nd surgery, I went on a prescription drug called Cabergoline. One of the uses for this drug is to suppress the growth of pituitary tumors: A.K.A. Mike Wasowski. Here's the not-so-great news: Mike isn't totally gone, but here's the good news: The memento he left behind hugging my blood vessel is shrinking thanks to my superhero, CABERGOLINE! Envision really buff guy in tights and a cape with a big "C" on his chest. 
So, where does this leave me in my saga with Mike Wasowski? We have not totally parted ways, and in June, I will have yet another MRI. If what's left behind is still shrinking, YAY! If not, or it's grown at all, we may have to go the radiation route, but I'm crossing that bridge when I come to it. For now I'm celebrating my restoration of vision and all the supportive friends and family I have on this wild ride!

What's in a Name?

It's February 1st. February usually means decorating with hearts and cupids for Valentine's Day, or people getting a 3 day weekend when President's day comes. For me, it means something else because every February since 1996 I get to start the month off with a celebration, a birthday celebration. 21 years ago I had my second child, a little girl. I've written many blogs about her before on her birthday and other times. It is no secret to anyone who reads this blog that I am a very proud mama and I love her very much. This post will be a little different. I want to tell you a story. I grew up very close physically and emotionally to my maternal grandparents. They lived 6 doors down the block, and I spent every weekend there and most summers at my Gram and Grampy's house. When I was in 8th grade, we all moved into one house together. We lived in the same house until I moved out when I married in 1982. I was especially close to my Grampy. He was a little bit goofy, and he had this great laugh. He never met a stranger, he could talk to anyone. He loved to sing, and he had a little bit of a temper, but more than anything he was one of the kindest people I've ever known. I can't remember him ever speaking a malicious word against anyone. He would give every one a chance, sometimes 2 or 3. To say that I adored him is an understatement. Sadly, we lost him way too soon, in 1983 when I was 19. It was long before I ever thought of children. When I was pregnant with my second child 13 years later, I decided not to find out what sex the child was. It would be a surprise! I did know, however, that I wanted to somehow honor my grandfather and his love for me. My grandfather's name was Alfred John, neither of which I wanted to use, so I wanted to think of something else. Now, remember, I said he was a little goofy. One of his goofier habits was the fact that he called everyone George, friends and strangers alike. We picked the name Georgia if we had a girl, and we decided we would call her Georgi. That little girl arrived at 8:16 AM on February 1st in 1996. Now, why did I tell you that story about my Grandpa? Because his namesake is so much like him. She has every quality I named above, and if he were alive today, they would be the best of friends. I can't pay my baby a higher compliment than to say she embodies the spirit of her namesake. I know she will continue to do great things, but more than that, she will touch everyone she meets, and their lives will be better for having known her, just like my Grampy!

So Much More Than Music

Thirteen years ago I was single with two daughters, one in 5th grade, one in 2nd, and I was searching for a church. We had been well established in a church when I was with their father, but it just carried too much baggage to stay there after he left. I had tried another church for several years but found as time went on, it really didn't meet my needs or what I thought I wanted for my children, and so I began to search. If you've ever been on a church hunt, you know it feels a little like being Goldilocks. Some are too big. Some are too small. Some are too contemporary. Some are too traditional. It seems you will never find the one that is "just right." In 2003 I was working for a high school, and one of the teachers learned that I was looking for a church. She invited me to come with her and her husband to her church's Christmas Program. She knew I was a singer, and music was important to me. I went with her. We went to a Sunday afternoon performance, and the sanctuary was packed! The program was stellar from the voices, to the orchestra, to the beautifully lit poinsettia tree in the Baptistery that was carefully synced with the stage lighting design. I was so impressed, and you're probably thinking that here I would say that my church hunt had ended. It didn't. My first thought was, "they don't need me here." My search continued, but then one Sunday I decided to go back to the church where I had attended the Christmas program. I wanted to see what their worship service was like. If you've read this blog before, you know that I am a firm believer in signs. That day all my favorite hymns were sung. We were greeted by friendly people, but not smothered, as had happened in other churches. There was one thing that happened at this church that solidified my choice to start attending. After the service, the minister of music approached me to welcome me and invite me to choir. That act alone did not make my decision. He made a point to speak to both of my girls, children. They mattered to him just as much as I did. That told me that he was genuine and sincere. I showed up at choir shortly after that, and we have been at that church ever since then. The church was Derbyshire Baptist, and the man was David Schwoebel. We have been at Derbyshire since 2004, and my girls grew up participating in his music ministry. Notice that I didn't say choir. That's because it isn't just a choir. David has a true ministry at Derbyshire. He makes everyone feel welcome and valued. Valued was something I really needed to feel as a single mom who was struggling to find a place. David is beyond talented as a composer and musician, but it is his skill at relating to people that is humbling to watch. With his talent, he could be like so many others that rule their choir with condescension and an iron hand, but he doesn't. That's not to say that the choir is not disciplined. We are! But it's out of love and loyalty that we serve. He is my minister of music, but more than that, he is my friend. Truthfully, he has been there for my family for support in so many ways. This week he celebrates 20 years of service at Derbyshire. Happy Anniversary, David! Here's to 20 more!