Roller Coaster Ride, anyone?

12/19/1969 - 11/2/1990

Before I get into my thoughts for today, allow me to give you a brief timeline of what this week holds for myself and our family:

• October 29 & 30, 1982 - the longest 14 hours any of us have ever lived through. Our sister, daughter, friend, mentor...underwent her first heart transplant at Children's Hospital of Pittsburgh.




• October 31 - Halloween to the rest of the world - to us, my mom's birthday

• November 2, 1990 - the day the world stopped turning. That same sister, daughter, mentor and friend was called home after a courageous 8 year fight to live.




• November 3, 1998 - Our family grew by one, as we welcomed Shelby Kay into our family.

• November 4, 2005 - Our family grew yet again, by three, as I married my best friend and we welcomed him and his two children into our family.

If there is a human emotion not covered by one of the events listed above, I can't imagine what it might be. It is quite the wild ride - every year.

Jill's passing last week, caused me to pause and think about how we store our memories. How we mark the passing of time. Oftentimes, when someone starts talking about the past, I find myself referencing one of the dates listed above to gauge exactly when that certain event happened. Like, "Lori died in 1990, so this happened x number of years ago". There is life with Lori and life after Lori; life before Shelby was born and life since she was born, life before Nathan and life with him....you get the idea.

19 years later, my memories of her are just as vibrant as they were the day we made them. I wish that I could somehow allow Parker and Ella, and the rest of Jill's family to see life through my eyes, for just a second. So they could see that Jill really WILL always be with them. So they could see that the pain doesn't ever completely vanish, but it eventually eases and is replaced by the memories of the time spent with Jill. To somehow spare them the grief I know awaits them. Unfortunately, grief doesn't work like that. There is no getting over it or anyway around it - the only path is through it.

In an effort to encourage Parker and Ella and the entire Bane/Lambert families, I thought I would share some of my memories, so that they might see that no matter how many years go by until their family is reunited - their memories of Jill will never fade.

Although my time with Lori was short, the memories are never-ending. She was 5 years older than I was, but we were best friends. Inseparable most of the time--sometimes by choice, sometimes out of necessity. I was only 8 when she was diagnosed and 16 when she passed, but I have a lifetime of memories from those 8 years. For those reading that knew her, I am certain you will recall some of these events - and for those of you that didn't know her, perhaps this will give you a glimpse into the life of one of the greatest people I have ever known.

After reading my memories, if you find some of your own coming to mind, I encourage you to share them below in the comments section, so that we all may be able to laugh a little on an otherwise gloomy day.

So, here it goes:

• Ever encourage Lori to share a joke with you? If you did, did you ever actually make it to the punch line? The girl would be in tears laughing so hard, just thinking about the end of the joke that 90% of the time, she never even managed to finish it!


• When faced with the decision to undergo a heart transplant at the ripe old age of 12, her lone request was "don't let me die in a hospital".

• A lover of animals - Lori couldn't bear to kill even an ant. One day, we discovered a mouse scurrying around our kitchen. After about an hour of chasing the little rodent, Lori captured it. And by capture, I mean, she trapped the stupid thing. Remember those little happy meal buckets from McDonald's that they used to use around Halloween? Well she trapped that dang thing under one of those and then used the charging base from our cordless phone to hold it down. Like 6 hours later, when my dad got home from work, she made him take the mouse outside and set it free.
  
• One night at the Ronald McDonald House in Pittsburgh, she scared the pee out of one of the other moms while watching 'Children of the Corn'.

• Speaking of scary movies - back when the movie theater was in the mall she convinced my mom to go see 'Pet Semetary'. Some how, she convinced my mom that it was a comedy. In the opening scene of the movie, Lori somehow knew what was coming and when the cat jumped out of the tree, she grabbed my mom and scared her to death. Lori and I watched the rest of that movie alone. My mom waited in the mall - outside the theater.
  
• Chi-chis. That's all I'm gonna say about that one.
  
• Never wanting special treatment, she wanted to play softball. After a long, hard fight with the commissioner of the local softball league, she got her wish...and revenge. While attempting to field a high fly ball during a night game, she got hit on the head with the ball after losing it in the lights - she then proceeded to fall to the ground as though her heart was failing. When my mom got to her on the field, she peeked out of one eye and then started laughing hysterically!
  
• The reason for the title of this blog - is actually a memory I was told of, as I was not there, but it sums up who she was. My oldest sister and I took turns flying out to Pittsburgh to visit Lori. On one of Lisa's trips, my mom and one of Lori's nurses took the two girls to Kennywood - which is a Six Flags type amusement park. My mom and Vicki decided to let the two girls go and explore the park, gave them a time and place to meet back up and then they sat on a bench and visited and enjoyed the day. When the four of them met back up, Lisa couldn't wait to tell on Lori. Seems Lori rode nearly EVERY ride in the park that day. Even the ones that warned of the risks of those with health conditions. After scolding her, my mom told Lori that she was going to tell her Dr. what she had done - he was the best at punishing her(not!). So at her daily visit the following day, after hearing what she had done, her Dr. said "Lori, you have a heart condition. You cannot be riding rides at an amusement park. Especially roller coasters". And with all the wisdom of a 13 year old, she said "I don't have a heart condition. You fixed it."

For those that did not have the pleasure of knowing Lori, that last memory right there sums up who she was. She lived life to its fullest - everyday. She didn't go through an experimental surgery and countless tests and medications and side affects to watch life from the sidelines-she was in the middle of the action.

In closing, I would like to share one of the most bittersweet memories I have, of anyone:

On November 1, 1990, Lori and I were sitting in our living room, watching MTV with our boyfriends. She had been talking about this song, "Fly to the Angels", by Slaughter. The video for that song came on and she looked at me and said "I want this song played at my funeral". I was like, yeah, right...whatever. She said crap like that all of the time. We watched a little more TV and then I got up and headed to bed. I said "Night Lor". She said "goodbye...I mean, good night." On November 2, 1990, Mrs. Harris walked into my general accounting class at Pontiac High School and told me that I needed to come to the office with her...and that I better bring my books. The rest of that day is a blur. There was laughter, tears, anger, silence and other emotions I can't even give a name to. What I remember most were the people and the stories. Every single person who came to see our family that day had a story of how our Lori had touched their lives.

Thanks for the memories, Sister.

Until we meet again...Peace.

Candi

Celebrate!

After the events of today, most of you are probably thinking that the title of this blog is cold-hearted. I hope that you will read it to the end...and be pleasantly surprised.

After the loss of a loved one, all of us at one time or another have been told the following in one form or another: "don't worry - they are in a better place now". Let's have a collective scream. There. Feel better? Yeah, not so much. We all hate to hear that, because at the time, it's not what we WANT to hear. We want to hear - well, nothing. During a time of such intense grief and pain, there are no words. For at that time we just want the nightmare to be over, for our loved one to still be there, to touch them, hear them, see them...

In today's social networking crazy society, we were able to share thoughts, memories and prayers - while grieiving the loss of a very special young woman. As I read all of the comments, I couldn't help but be reminded of the popular essay - "The Dash". Our sweet friend has been gone from us for less than 24 hours, and already, details of her dash are everywhere. Smiles, love, laughter, kindness, silliness, craziness, compassion, happy, joyful are only a fraction of the words that I've read and heard.
Even though she is no longer with us, she is doing what she did best - taking care of others. She lived her life with a purpose, on purpose and for a purpose. If you spent more than 5 seconds anywhere near her, she touched you - whether you realized it at the time or not. And now that she is gone, we can't help but recall the special moments, or seconds, spent with her. While we may be sad, it's almost difficult to talk about J without smiling or laughing, or both - which I believe, is precisely the way she planned it. And just in case there were a few people who she didn't meet or leave an impact on while she was with us, she left us with the biggest part of her...little e.

While instinct says we should cry and be sad and mourn the loss of such a great person, I think we would be remiss if we didn't celebrate her life and do our best to live more and more as she did. Even in the toughest fight of her life, her sweet spirit and incredible faith remained intact. As did her smile. The dreaded disease that invaded her body could not take away her ability to communicate.

After all that she did for us while she was here, the least we can do is to remember her as she intended - and that is to celebrate her life. How can we not celebrate someone who mentioned shoes in her wedding vows, incorporated light sabers into her wedding reception, hung an entire hallway of pictures crooked, danced on a swiss ball and always, always, always had a smile?

God Bless you all, ePBJ

Dreams

As defined at dictionary.com:

dream 
/drim/ Show Spelled Pronunciation [dreem] Show IPA noun, verb, dreamed or dreamt, dream⋅ing, adjective
–noun; an aspiration; goal; aim: A trip to Europe is his dream.

We've all had 'em right? Lotto jackpot. Cancer cure. Rockstar. Superhero. Mom. Dad. Wife. Dr. Lawyer. Athlete. Movie Star. Prom Queen. State Championship. Peace. Freedom. Love.

That list is pretty broad, yet, I bet each of them has been on your list at one time or another...I know most of them have been on mine. Okay, not dad, but that's obvious. When I think about how my dreams have changed over the course of my thirty-some years my life, I am reminded of the message in the following lyrics:

it was a passing grade, a pretty girl/all the money in the world/what mattered then kept changing every day-All I Ask For Anymore, Trace Adkins

Got you right in the gut, huh? Yeah, me too. Hey, it happens to the best of us. Funny how the truth has a way of doing that...no matter the subject, whenever the truth is spoken our hearts skip a beat, we lose our breath for a minute and we do a gut check. With my baby getting ready to start her Sophomore year at High School and my step daughter her Junior year and stepson his Freshman year, there has been a lot of talk about dreams around our house lately. We have a doctor, a physical therapist and an I don't know....as of last week. All of which are subject to change--see above song lyrics.

My husband and I always do our best to encourage our kids with their endeavors--sports, girl/boyfriends, learning to drive, career choices, school, work--I guess we are at the beginning stages of giving them their wings. (Not a fan of this stage, for the record-cuz I know ya'll were wondering). Today, as I sat helplessly on the couch, watching my gurl struggling with the affects of having her wisdom teeth removed, I found myself reflecting on how her dreams have had a huge influence on mine. It seems, for the past 15 years, her dreams have become my dreams. Perhaps that's a mother's love or perhaps, I just don't have the energy(or the attention span) to support two different dreams--especially when they are changing day by day. --again, see above lyrics.

As I watched the pain medication do its job-turning her pain into peace-I began to wonder if I was doing my job, as a mom, by simply encouraging her dreams? Gut check I mean, since birth I have been told, all together now, : actions speak louder than words. Right? Riiiiiight. My daughter has seen me chase a few dreams in her lifetime, but not achieve many of them--always making sacrifices for others at the expense of my own dreams. One of those blessing/curse traits. Gotta love em. Nonetheless, I've decided to take action.

For those of you who are still reading--thank you! Here is the point of this rambling--some recent relationships have inspired me to pursue a dream--this time, all the way. I'm kinda fragile (shocking, I know!), so I've only shared my latest dream with a select few. Whew! You sure find out who your friends are when you reveal something so personal. To those of you who have not done so recently, may I encourage you to take a good long, hard look at who you count among your friends. Something I have done--trying to stay true to that old cliche. Had enough gut checks for awhile. Before you get all the way to the end and decide to HATE me, I am NOT going to be revealing my latest pursuit out here in cyberland. So, if that's why you are still reading, sorry. I will, however, plant some seeds.

• I'm a people person. (no shocker to those who know me, and prob not to some who don't)
• I like helping others. (see above)
• I love sports.
• I love music.
• I liked school, but have not completed a college degree-yet.
• I'm a gadget freak.
• I love technology.
• I love to write-when I'm inspired.

So, there you have it. Some of the pieces of the puzzle to my latest dream. I hope to be able to take you all along on this journey with me. Gonna be a long one, but I'm not stopping until I get there. Before i go, I want to thank a few friends, old and new, who have encouraged me with my latest vision. They are: Frog, ML, KP, RM, BG, JG, KK, LJ--I hope to add to this list as I continue my trek. Oh, and to those who have laughed at me....ask yourself why you did so....are you not brave enough to chase your own dreams? If so, I am very sorry. With faith, hope and a little bit of luck, anything IS possible. Life is way too short to live any other way...

I might get there, I might not...one thing is for sure--I am going to enjoy the ride!

Stay tuned....
CeeKay
"Sorrow looks back, worry looks around, FAITH looks up"

I'm Done

Ok, let's get it overwith..it's been awhile. A LONG while. But life happens, and here I am, again. Typing aimlessly in this big white box.

The last few weeks have been quite a ride. Caught up with some old friends. Made some new ones. Rode in my truck with my daughter behind the wheel for the first time. And made a decision....

I'm Done.

No, not what you think. I'm Done, as in the words of Tracy Lawrence "I’m done harborin grudges and nursin old wounds. Done clingin to crutches and singin the blues". This is a line in the chorus to his AMAZING song, "I'm Done". The first verse is, well, I will let it speak for itself--"Life hit me when I wasn’t lookin. It dealt me a hard hand to play. I felt betrayed and forsaken. I’ve been makin the wrong people pay" Can I get an A-Men?!? Go ahead, admit it. Have a fit. Yell at God.

Now. Get Over It. Cuz that's where I'm at. Time, energy, thoughts, feelings, words, actions, resources spent on the past are a big fat WASTE! Think about it. If someone was disrespectful enough to hurt your feelings in the first place, are they really gonna care if you hold a grudge against them? Think their stomach churns at the thought of you being mad at them? Think they are losing sleep? Think they spend their days planning an apology? Yea, me neither.

We may think that by holding that grudge we are doing ourselves a big favor by not allowing that person to hurt us again...REALITY CHECK....that grudge is a wall we build which not only keeps the "bad guys" out, but also prevents new people from entering our world. Hold enough grudges and soon where a picket fence once stood, you now have a brick wall. It can get pretty lonely behind a brick wall. Who wants to be alone?

Many factors drove me to this decision to cut the strings. One is the following quote, from a dirt track driver:
"It might not be my weekend, but it's gonna be my year" - Landon Cassill via twitter.com

How insightful is THAT?!?! I might not like my past, but I am going to make sure to enjoy the present and LOVE my future. Before I do, I'm going to indulge in one last regret...and that is that I did not come to this realization MUCH MUCH sooner...oh the things I might have missed.

Going back to the song by Tracy Lawrence..."I'm greetin each morning with a smile and a prayer"

Anyone else ready to join me in throwing in the towel?....

See you on the outside!
CeeKay

Independence Day

On the eve of our nation's birthday, I find myself reflecting on the meaning of Independence Day. It's been my experience that 90% of Americans don't even use the term "Independence Day" anymore. '4th of July' and 'the 4th' are more common terms. Which reminds me of another holiday that has many names - Christmas. 'XMas', 'Holiday', among others. Odd, isn't it? The occasions behind the two holidays which are the result of the greatest sacrifices have also become the most overshadowed in today's world....all in the name of freedom. The exact reason for these holidays has been essentially omitted from the name of the holiday. Bit of an oxymoron if you ask me.

Follow me, for a minute. 2000 years ago, a child was born. I'm no religions expert or history buff, so I won't pretend to know all the facts (who does, anyway). Somewhere along the way, December 25th was deemed "Christmas", to celebrate the birth of Christ - who made the ultimate sacrifice for every human soul who believed in Him. He took our sin on his shoulders and then hung on the cross, and in return, we sin and sin and sin some more. And as if to add insult to injury - we reduced the celebration of his birth to family gatherings, political wars, a platform for "equal rights"...the list goes on.

The equal rights platform brings us to Independence Day. WAY back in the 1700's, a group of men took a stance, fought a war and gained control of our country from England...all based on values, principles and commandments set forth by Jesus. Though celebrated nearly 6 months apart, these two days are tied together in so many ways. We gained our freedom as a result of biblical principles, yet today's society tries to use that freedom to suppress those principles In reality, one cannot exist without another. Can they?

Even today, as THOUSANDS, let me say that again cuz I really think some people just don't get it, THOUSANDS of soldiers are still fighting overseas to protect our freedom and to liberate other countries as we were liberated in the 1700s, the war at home wages on. It saddens me to think about the homecoming that lies ahead for these soldiers. Every soldier in this war is someones child. Sacrificing their life for a freedom that is slowly slipping away. Here are a few definitions of freedom as cited on dictionary.com:

• exemption from external control, interference, regulation, etc.
• the power to determine action without restraint.
• political or national Independence.

Everyday, it seems, there is another story in the news about two groups bickering over their rights being violated by the other. It is my prayer that our soldiers do not come home, only to end up questioning what it was they were fighting for.

As you gather with friends and family to celebrate Independence Day, I urge you to take time to reflect on the reason for the fireworks, food, fun and fellowship you are enjoying. Your personal freedom from your sins is the result of the events that took place in the life of a 33 year old young man. Our national freedom is the result of events that have taken place over the course of several wars, hundreds of years and thousands of lives lost. We have doctor appreciation week, administrative assistants week, you name it, and there is a week for it...yet our two most valuable privileges are reduced to a single day each year.

Would you join me in trying to celebrate every day that we are allowed to live with our precious freedoms? God gave us the gift of each new day....our soldiers continue to give us the freedom to live those days as we choose.

Once again...from my favorite Army Wife of my favorite Soldier - always remember to never forget.

I am a child of God and an American citizen and will do my best to live every day never taking either of those blessings for granted.

God Bless America.

Thanks for reading.

CeeKay

Remember to Honor

As I go about my daily activities on this 3-day weekend, I find myself pausing often, to appreciate all of the freedoms and progress I am allowed to enjoy, thanks to the heroes of our country. While my family does not have a long lineage of military soldiers--I do have an uncle who is a veteran(Thanks, Uncle Joey)--we do have a soldier of our own kind. Before I start rambling about our soldier, I want to express my sincere appreciation and gratitude to all of the men and women, along with their families, who serve our country. Those who are willing to lay down their life so I can attend church in public, so my husband can earn a living for our family, so our kids can choose their own path and that I can express my thoughts, freely, on this website. For most of us, "the war", is something that happened, but to those linked to the military, the war is something that is happening. For those military families, the fight to keep our country the land of the free, the war has been the very center of their worlds for the last 8 years. Training, boot camp, deployments, leaves, re-deployment, re-enlistments...for those families, this war has dictated how they live their lives on a daily basis. From the bottom of my heart, I say thank you to those that I know personally, have served, are serving or will serve our country: Willie, Adriana, Telvin, Will, Chris, Brett, Mark, Joe, Joey, Joe Jr., Casey, Kelly, Christina, Phillip, Tim, Gib, Heather...you all have a purple heart in my book.

Now, onto a soldier of a different kind. I am one of the fortunate ones, as I had the privilege of growing up with a soldier and a hero from whom I learned many valuable life lessons. I learned compassion, sacrifice, courage, strength, love, hope, faith, determination, trust and respect. My soldier fought the battle of humanity. My soldier, literally, fought for life and for the life of others. No matter the question, the answer was always-'if I am going to help someone else, then yes'. No matter how painful a process-"if this will spare someone else pain-yes". No matter the risk-"if this will help you advance in your field-yes".

My soldier endured two very risky operations in a time when they were a rarity. My soldier dealt with side affects of numerous drugs. My soldier dealt with the stigma that comes with a sterile environment. My soldier dealt with the endless testing that came along with the experimental procedure that extended her life. My soldier made sacrifices so others would not have to. My soldier fearlessly navigated the waters of the medical field. My soldier was just 12 years old when recruited. There was no boot camp. There was no basic training. There was no conditioning. This soldier went directly from the ball field to the battlefield. My soldier made the ultimate sacrifice. My soldier died so that others may live. My soldier was my sister, Lori. Each time I hear of a successful organ transplant in a child, I smile and say a prayer--thanking Lori for giving that child a second chance at growing up.

To borrow a phrase from my favorite Army Wife-
'Always remember to NEVER forget"...no matter what war your soldier fought.

With a grateful heart,
CeeKay

Grief

Old as she was, she still missed her daddy sometimes. -Gloria Naylor

GriefGrief\ (gr[=e]f), n. [OE. grief, gref, OF. grief, gref, F. grief, L. gravis heavy; akin to Gr. bary`s, Skr. guru, Goth. ka['u]rus. Cf. Barometer, Grave, a., Grieve, Gooroo.]
1. Pain of mind on account of something in the past; mental suffering arising from any cause, as misfortune, loss of friends, misconduct of one's self or others, etc.; sorrow; sadness.

This is how dictionary.com defines grief. I get that. Took me a long time, but I finally get it. What I don't get is how to explain it to my 15 year old daughter. I consider myself to be a fairly strong person. I think those that know me, would tend to agree. I've had a lot of life experience and tried to learn from every situation, so I handle things pretty well--mentally and emotionally. Tonite, the angry monster that is grief, hit me right upside the head. Hard.

I was chatting with a friend and trying to comfort her in her grief and I got an email from my daughter. She was sitting around the corner from me on the other computer and sent me a gut-wrenching email about my dad and then bolted for her bed before I even read it. The subject said : Grandpa, i just needed to get it out. And the floodgates opened. By the time I got to the end of her email, I could barely make out the words on my screen. HOW in the WORLD was MY baby gurl sitting that close to me and hurting so bad and I not know it?!?!?! I know how. She is just like me. She wears her painted smile very well. While I am sad that she did not come to me to talk, I am so very glad that she is able to express her pain in some way. Grief is much better out than in.

Seems she is afraid of forgetting her Grandpa Dan. She was almost 5 when he passed away and I think she spent every single minute of her young life-glued to him. (Did I mention she is just like me?) I will always be a daddy's girl. I loved, loved, loved watching my baby gurl with my daddy. It was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen. I'm not sure which of the three of us reaped the most benefits of their relationship. I used to have to try to beat him home from work so I could spend time with her, because when he hit the back door, she was his. And if I was going to the store and attempted to take her with me? Well, that was just silly.

Over the past 10 1/2 years, I have talked with her about him, when she has asked. And she has also heard me tell others of her relationship with my dad and tonite, I found out that it is those conversations that are helping her keep his memory alive. As tough as her words were for me to read, they also were very affirming. They reminded me that we never "get over" our grief. (I didn't see a timetable in the definition) They reminded me that it is never "time" to stop talking about loved ones we have lost. They reminded me that I am not alone in my grief. And they reminded me that I can read that definition until I am blue in the face and I will never "get" grief.

Oh-almost forgot to mention...once I halfway pulled myself together, I went up to her room and laid beside her and cried right along with her. Sometimes, there just are no words....

Tonight, I am oh so thankful for God's reminder about grief....
Sorrow may last for the night. But His joy comes in the morning.
---Psalm 30 verse 5


In His AWESOME Grip,
CeeKay

Circle of Life

As I celebrated Mother's Day with my daughter today, I also found myself reflecting on her life....she turns 15 tomorrow. WOW! Where did the time go?

Like most others, I also spent some time thinking about those who have taught me how to be a mother and I came to the realization that I actually have learned the most about being a mom from my daughter. Yes, I have learned plenty from other mothers in my life, my own mother included, but ultimately, my daughter is my best teacher. When I take the time to see myself through her eyes, I have the opportunity to see my success as well as my flaws. Think about it for a minute....so, she is always prim and proper in public, sits attentively at church, excels on the basketball court, makes straight A's in school, the neighbors love her, the teachers want more students like her....so, I have to be a great mom, right? Not so much. While I may have had some influence on her behavior, ultimately all those things were a result of her decisions. On the other hand, her favorite place is on the couch with me.....she shares her secrets and dreams with me.....I know all of her friends and they know me....when she's bored, she comes to me lookin for a shopping buddy or someone to watch a movie with.....I feel like that is my true measure of success as a mom. If I can just keep my eyes, ears and heart open, she will show me exactly how to be a great mom. Her wants, needs, dreams, desires and fears will be right before my eyes--making my job a whole lot easier.

We've had several conversations lately about her childhood. And much to my surprise, most of her favorite memories involve nothing more than my time. Slumber parties in the living room, going to basketball games, road trips with great friends, her favorite Disney movie over and over and over....it really is true that the greatest gift you can give to your children is your time.

As she moves another step closer to becoming an adult tomorrow, I look forward to what she is going to teach me next about being a mom.

Happy Mother's Day
CeeKay

Heroes

Heroes. We all have/had them, right? Come on. Superman? Spiderman? Batman? or in my case, Casper the friendly Ghost!

Through the years, I have found that my definition has evolved from fantasy to reality. Perhaps this quote will inspire you to re-examine your heroes....

I've learned that heroes are people who do what has to be done when it needs to be done, regardless of the consequences.

Who really wears the cape in your story?

Until tomorrow....
CeeKay

I Don't Wanna Grow Up!

Ironic, isn't it? We spend the first half of our lives wishing for something to happen, and when it happens, we spend the remainder of our time, wishing it didn't.

We have a "communication center" in our kitchen. Three teenagers, all in sports, two different schools and four seasons..yeah, do the math. Anyway, my daughter has had her birthday countdown on the white board for quite some time and has been faithfully counting down the days. As I walked passed it today, I noticed it says "6 Days!!!". Her birthday is only 5 days away--seems she forgot to change it today. Having realized that, I paused and thought, "Oh, how I wish time would just stop and she would stay 6 days from being 15 for just a year or two more". As I watch her talk about turning 15, I can see the excitement and joy and the sense of freedom all over her face. And at the same time, I see the responsibility that is attached to that freedom.

While my baby gurl cannot wait to grow up, I find myself saying more and more that I don't want to grow up. I love, love, love, LOVE, LOVE my job. That part of being a grown up I can handle. I don't love all of the other "stuff" that comes with being grown up. Mainly, decisions. I am the world's worst when it comes to making a decision....about the simple things. My biggest enemy is meal time. What to have for lunch, dinner? Let the kids go to the carnival or stay home? Wear a jacket or don't wear a jacket?

And don't even get me started on paying bills. I can remember asking my mom for money when I was younger and when she would tell me she didn't have any, I would just say...come on, say it with me, you've all done it..."just write a check, mom". Oh, to be that naive again. To think that having checks meant I still had money. To think that having a house and lights and heat and air conditioning and water--just happened when you "grew up". I'll admit it--I was clueless.

I thought I grew up when I had my daughter...at the ripe old age of 19 3/4. Yeah! Right! Who was I kidding!?!?!! I learned rather quickly that we were going to grow up together. While it is true that being a parent requires A LOT, can I say that again...A LOT, of self-sacrifice, there is a lot more to growing up than that. I was still "the mom". I could still get my way--most of the time--when I wanted to. And as she got older, I gradually regained some freedom....some "me" time. Something which is very precious in the world of a single mother. And just when I thought I had officially achieved the rank of "grown up"...............I got married.

WOW! Talk about growing up. Goodness, it takes a lot of work to maintain a happy marriage. Again, the little things always snuck up on me. ....I KNOW I bought pop tarts at the store this week, WHERE did they go?......ugh, empty milk jug again? WHY didn't someone tell me?.....HE wants to golf, so I can't buy those shoes, just cuz they're cute?!..WHATEVER!....A western? On MY tv? Seriously?!....Now, don't get me wrong, I LOVE my husband...I adore him...110%.....but, wow, did I ever have to grow up. Thank goodness God chose to bless me with a man after Job---there just is no other explanation for the extent of his patience with me.

And, so I come back to my daughter. Sitting here tonite, I am reminded why I was SOOO eager to grow up....even if the rewards are completely different than I thought they were going to be....in fact, they are better than I could have ever imagined. While it still saddens me that my little girl IS growing up, I, too, am excited for the rewards I know await her.

Maturity is not measured by the number of birthdays one has, rather by the amount of life one has experienced.

Until next time...
CeeKay

Don't Make Me Count To Three!

I stopped to visit a friend on my way home from work today. And I watched with joy as he and his 4 year old son played outside. I'm new in his son's life, so he is still unsure about me and decided to test his dad in front of an audience. As an adult, and a parent myself, I knew what was about to happen to this little guy, but he had no idea. His dad asked him to do something and the son just laughed and twirled around in his swing. Dad asked again...more twirling, while watching my reaction out of the corner of his eye. Then the final warning sounded. "I'm gonna count to three then you are going to get a spanking and go inside". With the count of 1, I thought, "uh oh, it's a show down", then came 2, and a move from the swing to the slide while dad headed closer to the swing set, and then, the dreaded 3. The son could hardly contain his satisfaction, he thought he won....and as i watched the dad walk over and spank his son and send him on his way, my thoughts went directly to the father. How he must have hated to follow through and cut play time short. How he must have been hoping that his son would comply with his request. How he knew that failing to follow through would rob his son of a valuable lesson. And how he hoped that his son would not make the same mistake when in the same situation again.

Sound familiar? I began thinking to myself...how many times have I made my Father count to three? How many spankings have I forced Him to deliver? How often have I challenged His authority? and when did I learn that "Father knows best"?

"The Will of God will never lead you, where the Grace of God cannot keep you"...

Oh, the tears and devastation we could save ourselves, if only we would heed the warnings of our Father the first time....

Today, I am thankful that our Father suffered the ultimate punishment, so would never make it to that countdown.

In His Grip,
CeeKay

Happily Ever After?

Ok, so anyone that knows me, knows that I was the biggest hypocrite when it came to "Happily Ever After". Hated the traditional fairy tales. Told my daughter the ONLY fairytale she could believe was "Shrek". I mean, come on, who out there doesn't agree that the odds of spending forever in the swamp with an ogre are much higher than prince charming with his white horse in a castle? Seriously.

The swamp is much harder to find than the castle on the mountain top, but it is SO worth it. Yep, I kissed a frog and he turned into a prince, alright....the Prince of his own kingdom, where I was everything BUT his princess. On one of the my many lonely nights in the dungeon, I decided to take a new approach. After all, the definition of insanity is "repeating the same action and expecting a different result". And I may be crazy, but I am not insane. So, I took a good, long, hard look in the mirror....and I did not even recognize the person staring back at me.
So, I followed the advice of a good friend who once(or twice) said..."Candi Sue, I wish you could see you through my eyes"...

So begins my journey through the forest. Let me tell ya, looking at myself was a LOT harder than looking at everyone else. Their worries and troubles were so EASY to fix, my world on the other hand, needed a demolition crew as opposed to a construction crew. While I was busy fixing the world, my life was falling apart and my magic wand was fresh out of dust. I was on my own....or so I thought.

I started by taking care of myself on the inside. That meant mending fences, rebuilding bridges, tearing down walls and breaking free from chains. Much to my surprise, once the chains were gone, the rest of the tasks became much lighter.

My first step was letting go..........of everything. Yes, I said EVERYTHING. Clean slate. And what do ya know? On my way out of the castle, I found a new prince...the Prince of Peace. Where had HE been all of my life? ...right here, little one....WHOA! where did that come from?!?! ...I've been waiting for you.....I am not insane, I am not insane. ...no, you are not insane. Have you read the letter I sent you?.....um, letter? come on, Candi, think, get it together.....it said "Dear Candi, I will be handling all of your problems today. Please go and have a great day! Love, God".... THAT letter, yeah, didn't get it. ...now you have it....

After a whole lot of give and take, I surrendered my life to God and began following Him, and suddenly the dark, scary forest turned into bright, beautiful rolling meadows. Piece by piece, he built me back up, and by the time we reached the swamp, my Ogre was there waiting....in a big green truck!!! And he is the complete package! I am so blessed.

So, that is the short story long about MY happily ever after. It is my wish that you will follow me along this journey...learn with me, laugh with me, cry with me, pray with me....

Thanks for reading...
CeeKay