As some of you may know, I lost one of my very close friends a few years back. Connie was the friend that everybody wanted. She always had something positive to say, always defended people that frankly didnt deserve it, and even when she tried to be mad, she was never successful. Sometimes, no alot of times, we would get angry with her for defending someone who didnt deserve the air she breathed.
I have many fond memories of her. I worked with her for years, and although she was closer to my best friend, I wasn't jealous. I think I saw myself as the kid sister in the relationship. I think of many times I didnt deserve her friendship. I think everyone around her took her for granted at times, but I loved her, and I will always love her.
The last time I spent time with her was about 3 weeks before she died. Traci invited me to be her date to the company Christmas party at Alltel Stadium. It was a little awkward for some reason. We decided to create our own after party and lets just say that we celebrated well. Again, things were just different. She had become a different person, and we all could see the reason, but she couldnt.
I did however see her one other time before her passing, and I will never forget the conversation she and I had. I wanted her to know how I felt about decisions that she was making. I wanted her to see that she wasnt the same person. It hurts me so bad to know that this was the last time I saw her. I should have told her I loved her, I should have hugged her, I should have never let her know how I felt, I should have been the friend to her that she was to me.
New Years Eve, my husband and I celebrated with great friends at Traci's. Connie had not arrived, and Traci and I were burning up her phone. 10,11,12,1,2,3..no Connie. She had stayed back at another party in Callahan with some other friends of ours.
Before the sun rose on the New Year, Connie was dead, and my world was rearranged. For the first few hours, I was just numb. How could she be dead? Why wasnt she with us? We would have never allowed her to leave. So many questions and even more blame. It didnt sink in until I called my mom. At that moment, I realized that the next time I saw her, she would be in the front of a church, in a coffin.
A sea of people came to pay their respects. The line went on for hours and hours....she had touched the lives of each of them. I reluctantly went to the front, where she lay, and I again became numb. It was real, and it was Connie, not the one I remember, but it was Connie. It was obvious to me that her death was not an easy one and the more I tried to convince myself that she died quickly, and without pain, the more I realized that she had not.
I remember sitting the next morning in the same church at her funeral service, trying to keep it together. Sitting between Traci and Jennifer, listening to the service, but off in another place, the last image of her etched into my mind. I fell to pieces.....only for someone to say to me..."You cant break down..you're the strong one"....me? The strong one? I failed to get THAT memo, but in a small instant, my tears had ceased for the time. It was a devastating loss to me. She was so many things to so many people, a mother, a sister, a daughter, my friend. Now she is my angel that probably talks me up to God, because thats what she does. She is making excuses for me probably as we speak. God needed her more than we did.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Mabree Caraline
August 31, 1998....the day my pregnancy test showed positive, the day my life changed forever......the day I became a mother. I had never had a feeling like that before in my life.
My husband and I had tried to have a baby for about 4 1/2 years prior to that day. Attempt after attempt, procedures, medicines, tests....I thought it would never happen. Everyone around us was having children, were we destined to be without? I was on my second round of fertility drugs, and taking my temperature. How unromantic it had become, with a chart on the nightstand, trying to be exact with spikes in temp. If only I had been saved by God at that point, maybe I would have had faith that He would not leave me barren.
I was taking pregnancy tests every month, and as much as I wanted this one to be positive, I knew not to get too excited. My husband had gone hunting that morning (this was before beepers and cell phones)and would be gone all day. I carefully unpacked the test, read the instructions a million times, I wanted to make sure I did everything just as the directions said. Now the wait...I decided to completely leave the room for the 2 minutes, because I couldn't bare to watch the dissapointment. I came back into the bathroom after what seemed like eternity, and looked at the test, looked at the instructions, back and forth, countless times.....it couldnt be right, I couldnt be pregnant....but I was, at least I was almost sure.....so the only thing I knew to do, was to call my best friend, who had worked with an infertility specialist, just to make sure..(I wasnt a nurse at this time). She got emotional and confirmed what I already knew.
Now the wait until the new dad came home. My nervous energy got the best of me, so I decided to go do a little shopping. I decided to get my husband a gift.....so I carefully picked out a set of pacifiers and teething ring. I wrapped them in a box and sat them on the counter and eagerly waited his arrival. I tried to keep myself busy but I just wanted to scream it from the roof......I'M HAVING A BABY!!!!!!! When he came into the house, I listened as he took his gear off, trying to be patient, I walked to the kitchen to wait for him to round the wall. Oh come on already....
As he appeared FINALLY, I handed him the box. He said "whats this?", I told him to just open it, it was a surprise. So he carefully unwrapped the box and when he opened the lid, he looked at the foreign object with a confused look on his face...and then looked at me and said "Are you pregnant?" Of course, I began to sob like a baby myself and just shook my head.
It didnt take my body long to figure out that something wasnt right. I have never been so sick ever in my lifetime. I began losing weight, and the dr wanted me to come in immediately. I had Hyperemesis gravadarum, or extreme morning sickness that lasted 24/7. I didnt eat very much during that time and after it was all said and done, I had lost over 20 pounds in a one month period. My OB did an ultrasound and thought it may be unsafe for me to continue the pregnancy. He could see signs of kidney failure....my only response to him was "I am not aborting this baby, I will die first." He said back to me.."then you better find a way to get nourishment." After different meds, a few hospitalizations, IV fluids at home, and some time....my body decided it would let up. What really amazed me was that it wasnt my body doing the attacking at all....it was my mind..(didnt find out the reason until years later in nursing school). It was from events that occurred during my childhood of which I had no control, and again when I became pregnant, my mind was flooded with the inability to control.
On May 3, 1999, I gave birth to a beautiful 6lb 14oz baby girl. The birth was without complications, and in that instant..two became three and my world and heart were changed forever. Its amazing to me that the moment I met Mabree I was instantly in love. The little kicks and punches I had felt for so long had now materialized into this child, and she was mine. God's greatness wrapped in a blanket nestled in my arms.........God is good!
My husband and I had tried to have a baby for about 4 1/2 years prior to that day. Attempt after attempt, procedures, medicines, tests....I thought it would never happen. Everyone around us was having children, were we destined to be without? I was on my second round of fertility drugs, and taking my temperature. How unromantic it had become, with a chart on the nightstand, trying to be exact with spikes in temp. If only I had been saved by God at that point, maybe I would have had faith that He would not leave me barren.
I was taking pregnancy tests every month, and as much as I wanted this one to be positive, I knew not to get too excited. My husband had gone hunting that morning (this was before beepers and cell phones)and would be gone all day. I carefully unpacked the test, read the instructions a million times, I wanted to make sure I did everything just as the directions said. Now the wait...I decided to completely leave the room for the 2 minutes, because I couldn't bare to watch the dissapointment. I came back into the bathroom after what seemed like eternity, and looked at the test, looked at the instructions, back and forth, countless times.....it couldnt be right, I couldnt be pregnant....but I was, at least I was almost sure.....so the only thing I knew to do, was to call my best friend, who had worked with an infertility specialist, just to make sure..(I wasnt a nurse at this time). She got emotional and confirmed what I already knew.
Now the wait until the new dad came home. My nervous energy got the best of me, so I decided to go do a little shopping. I decided to get my husband a gift.....so I carefully picked out a set of pacifiers and teething ring. I wrapped them in a box and sat them on the counter and eagerly waited his arrival. I tried to keep myself busy but I just wanted to scream it from the roof......I'M HAVING A BABY!!!!!!! When he came into the house, I listened as he took his gear off, trying to be patient, I walked to the kitchen to wait for him to round the wall. Oh come on already....
As he appeared FINALLY, I handed him the box. He said "whats this?", I told him to just open it, it was a surprise. So he carefully unwrapped the box and when he opened the lid, he looked at the foreign object with a confused look on his face...and then looked at me and said "Are you pregnant?" Of course, I began to sob like a baby myself and just shook my head.
It didnt take my body long to figure out that something wasnt right. I have never been so sick ever in my lifetime. I began losing weight, and the dr wanted me to come in immediately. I had Hyperemesis gravadarum, or extreme morning sickness that lasted 24/7. I didnt eat very much during that time and after it was all said and done, I had lost over 20 pounds in a one month period. My OB did an ultrasound and thought it may be unsafe for me to continue the pregnancy. He could see signs of kidney failure....my only response to him was "I am not aborting this baby, I will die first." He said back to me.."then you better find a way to get nourishment." After different meds, a few hospitalizations, IV fluids at home, and some time....my body decided it would let up. What really amazed me was that it wasnt my body doing the attacking at all....it was my mind..(didnt find out the reason until years later in nursing school). It was from events that occurred during my childhood of which I had no control, and again when I became pregnant, my mind was flooded with the inability to control.
On May 3, 1999, I gave birth to a beautiful 6lb 14oz baby girl. The birth was without complications, and in that instant..two became three and my world and heart were changed forever. Its amazing to me that the moment I met Mabree I was instantly in love. The little kicks and punches I had felt for so long had now materialized into this child, and she was mine. God's greatness wrapped in a blanket nestled in my arms.........God is good!
Saturday, January 23, 2010
My Cup Runneth Over and Its Making A Mess
"My Cup Runneth Over" is one of my very favorite quotes used in one of my very favorite movies, Hope Floats. If you have never seen it, this should be on your hot pink scooter list. I dont think I've explained the hot pink scooter list, so briefly, its basically mine and 2 of my friends bucket list. (We expect to be riding hot pink scooters when we hit the nursing home).
Ok back my cup running over.....I have realized that this is sometimes how I see my cup. Kinda like the people who instead of seeing their glass half full, they see it as half empty. Instead of letting my life happen, my control freakness, has to plan how my life should happen. I am really trying to work on this, and with the grace from above, I will succeed.
I guess I really began to realize how much of a control freak I was when it came out in my 10 1/2 year old, Mabree. When she and Mallory play, Mabree feels the need to control the situation instead of an equal partnership. I dont place blame on her, because they are a product of their environment, right? So lately, I have really tried hard to take a tiny step back (which feels like a leap over the Grand Canyon)and just allow things to happen.
Ok so yes sometimes I panic, (ok so maybe frequently) when i have allowed Mabree to fix her own hair, and its not quite the way I want it, or Mallory picks out her own clothes.(who thinks that all shades of pink match). My talk to myself is....nobody is going to die as a result, no failing grades, no snickers from other moms as I go by, and the sun will still rise in the east and set in he west. Ok, conquered.
Mabree is the laid back, not a care in the world, tom boyish child that can be girlie if required. She has many talents including dance, acting, and my most jaw dropping discovery....singing. Because of my mistakes in life, she has learned to adapt, sometimes reluctantly. I dont give her near the credit she deserves. She has survived me, despite me. I can be very critical of her, when there is really no reason to criticize. I do try to lovingly criticize, but I dont think she and I see it the same. She is a wonderful helper to me. She even loves to cook, and on occasion she has cooked our entire meal. She jumps at the opportunity to help me with certain tasks. Her least favorite are cleaning her room, and folding and putting away clothes, come to think of it...thats mine too.
My blessings pour out, yet I see them pouring out onto my nice freshly mopped floor. Why is that? Why do I not see that my greatest blessings are 10 and 4 year old girls who make messes? Instead of gracefully cleaning up the messes, I fuss about them. God gave me these beautiful daughters, and sometimes I catch myself listening to what they have to say without REALLY LISTENING. I have prayed about this most of all, and only by Gods mercy am I trying to improve. So what if my house is not spotless? Will they remember the crumb on the floor or the fact that I played a game or read a book to them? Children are resilient, but they are resilient sponges.
When my girls grow up, and people say they are a product of their environment....I want that to be a GOOD thing. I want them to be happy that their cups are running over onto the floor. We make a decision everyday to accept the blessings or mop them up and pour them down the drain! Today.....my floor is ankle deep!
Ok back my cup running over.....I have realized that this is sometimes how I see my cup. Kinda like the people who instead of seeing their glass half full, they see it as half empty. Instead of letting my life happen, my control freakness, has to plan how my life should happen. I am really trying to work on this, and with the grace from above, I will succeed.
I guess I really began to realize how much of a control freak I was when it came out in my 10 1/2 year old, Mabree. When she and Mallory play, Mabree feels the need to control the situation instead of an equal partnership. I dont place blame on her, because they are a product of their environment, right? So lately, I have really tried hard to take a tiny step back (which feels like a leap over the Grand Canyon)and just allow things to happen.
Ok so yes sometimes I panic, (ok so maybe frequently) when i have allowed Mabree to fix her own hair, and its not quite the way I want it, or Mallory picks out her own clothes.(who thinks that all shades of pink match). My talk to myself is....nobody is going to die as a result, no failing grades, no snickers from other moms as I go by, and the sun will still rise in the east and set in he west. Ok, conquered.
Mabree is the laid back, not a care in the world, tom boyish child that can be girlie if required. She has many talents including dance, acting, and my most jaw dropping discovery....singing. Because of my mistakes in life, she has learned to adapt, sometimes reluctantly. I dont give her near the credit she deserves. She has survived me, despite me. I can be very critical of her, when there is really no reason to criticize. I do try to lovingly criticize, but I dont think she and I see it the same. She is a wonderful helper to me. She even loves to cook, and on occasion she has cooked our entire meal. She jumps at the opportunity to help me with certain tasks. Her least favorite are cleaning her room, and folding and putting away clothes, come to think of it...thats mine too.
My blessings pour out, yet I see them pouring out onto my nice freshly mopped floor. Why is that? Why do I not see that my greatest blessings are 10 and 4 year old girls who make messes? Instead of gracefully cleaning up the messes, I fuss about them. God gave me these beautiful daughters, and sometimes I catch myself listening to what they have to say without REALLY LISTENING. I have prayed about this most of all, and only by Gods mercy am I trying to improve. So what if my house is not spotless? Will they remember the crumb on the floor or the fact that I played a game or read a book to them? Children are resilient, but they are resilient sponges.
When my girls grow up, and people say they are a product of their environment....I want that to be a GOOD thing. I want them to be happy that their cups are running over onto the floor. We make a decision everyday to accept the blessings or mop them up and pour them down the drain! Today.....my floor is ankle deep!
Leila Lou
Looking back into my childhood, offers me mostly happy memories. Of course, there were several bumps in the road, but I've come to the conclusion that those bumps have become my strengths. I was definitely not raised in a traditional 2 parent family, with the white picket fence.....but honestly who was? My mother has always been the constant in my life. I think there have been times that she regrets some of the decisions she made, but I didnt turn out so bad. I'm 36, have a degree as a registered nurse, have 2 wonderful children, a great husband (most of the time), a beautiful home, even if I didnt have a dime to my name, what would I have to complain about? I have said this many times......but I think your mother should be your biggest fan, and I know without a doubt that my mother is my biggest fan ALWAYS!
I come from a long line of wonderful, beautiful, strong, independent, hard headed, stubborn women. The "Mizell" women are something I am proud of. They are my heritage.
My first memories of my great grandmother were in a two story house in Folkston. As a child, the house seemed so big....the perfectly square kitchen with the slamming screen door, the wooden staircase that creeked when you stepped on a certain step, the bedrooms upstairs that connected, and most of all....the smell. It was an honest mix of dove soap, estee lauder powder and dampness. Its funny how our minds will take us back when we smell familiar aromas.
I have sat many afternoons on my great grandmothers front porch, in one of those big wooden rocking chairs (if you are from the south..you know the ones)listening to them talk about things going on in the world. They weren't always the most productive conversations, but ones I will always cherish. My great grandmother, Leila Aldridge, (Granny Aldridge)or as my mother lovingly says.."Leila Lou", had several sisters (10 I think)and one baby brother. Most anyday, you could come by Granny Aldridges porch and she would be sitting out there. There were always visitors, especially in the afternoon. She would read her Bible in the afternoon sun and invite any non-believer to join her. She had her faults, but she always had kind words for us. Several years ago, she passed, and I realized how much I took for granted the afternoon "porch sitting". It is something that her daughters and others greatly miss too.
When she passed, the only thing I asked for was a "granny" ceramic bank. I remembered it from the many summer days that I spent with Granny Aldridge and her sister Edna. Probably a very inexpensive gift, it sat on a side table in the living room forever. One afternoon, mom called me hysterically upset. She had accidentally dropped the bank, and being full of money...it shattered into a gazillion pieces.....there was no saving it. Although I was upset, it was just an object....and nothing could compare to my memory of her.
Prior to Granny A passing, she had assigned my mom the task of disbursing her items as she saw fit, except for the few items Granny A preassigned before dying. One was for me....a ring I remember vividly. A simple December birthstone ring that she wore everyday. She gave it to me because we were the only December birthdays. It was a wonderful surprise.
Before Granny Aldridge came back to Folkston to live out the remainder of her days, she shared a home with Aunt Edna in Waycross. I loved going there as a child. My cousins and I would play in the cow field tossing cow pucks and playing in the creek down the road. The long summer days kept us consumed. Endless hours of running, skipping, jumping, eating popsicles, chasing bugs, drinking out of the water hose, running in and out of the screen door, allowing it to slam each time.
Now as a mom, I get to watch my children play. Its a glorious cycle although ever changing. The sounds of summer as a child cross my mind frequently, and almost always, those are the ones I remember the best.
I come from a long line of wonderful, beautiful, strong, independent, hard headed, stubborn women. The "Mizell" women are something I am proud of. They are my heritage.
My first memories of my great grandmother were in a two story house in Folkston. As a child, the house seemed so big....the perfectly square kitchen with the slamming screen door, the wooden staircase that creeked when you stepped on a certain step, the bedrooms upstairs that connected, and most of all....the smell. It was an honest mix of dove soap, estee lauder powder and dampness. Its funny how our minds will take us back when we smell familiar aromas.
I have sat many afternoons on my great grandmothers front porch, in one of those big wooden rocking chairs (if you are from the south..you know the ones)listening to them talk about things going on in the world. They weren't always the most productive conversations, but ones I will always cherish. My great grandmother, Leila Aldridge, (Granny Aldridge)or as my mother lovingly says.."Leila Lou", had several sisters (10 I think)and one baby brother. Most anyday, you could come by Granny Aldridges porch and she would be sitting out there. There were always visitors, especially in the afternoon. She would read her Bible in the afternoon sun and invite any non-believer to join her. She had her faults, but she always had kind words for us. Several years ago, she passed, and I realized how much I took for granted the afternoon "porch sitting". It is something that her daughters and others greatly miss too.
When she passed, the only thing I asked for was a "granny" ceramic bank. I remembered it from the many summer days that I spent with Granny Aldridge and her sister Edna. Probably a very inexpensive gift, it sat on a side table in the living room forever. One afternoon, mom called me hysterically upset. She had accidentally dropped the bank, and being full of money...it shattered into a gazillion pieces.....there was no saving it. Although I was upset, it was just an object....and nothing could compare to my memory of her.
Prior to Granny A passing, she had assigned my mom the task of disbursing her items as she saw fit, except for the few items Granny A preassigned before dying. One was for me....a ring I remember vividly. A simple December birthstone ring that she wore everyday. She gave it to me because we were the only December birthdays. It was a wonderful surprise.
Before Granny Aldridge came back to Folkston to live out the remainder of her days, she shared a home with Aunt Edna in Waycross. I loved going there as a child. My cousins and I would play in the cow field tossing cow pucks and playing in the creek down the road. The long summer days kept us consumed. Endless hours of running, skipping, jumping, eating popsicles, chasing bugs, drinking out of the water hose, running in and out of the screen door, allowing it to slam each time.
Now as a mom, I get to watch my children play. Its a glorious cycle although ever changing. The sounds of summer as a child cross my mind frequently, and almost always, those are the ones I remember the best.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Quarky toddler talk
I am the proud mother of two girls, 10 and 4 (going on 20). My 4 year old, like many 4 year olds has her own lingo. She gets very annoyed with us when we dont get it, and I feel like I need a college course so that I can "get it". One of my favorite words that she says is "Cuge" (the mallory definition is: large, gigantic, enormous). She says it with such confidence, like she knows exactly what she's talking about, and wish we did!
My favorite Mal word of all time would have to be "babing soup" (mal definition: bathing suit). I will miss this one the most.
It took me a little longer to figure out what "Cudding" was. Simple, I know. (the mallory definition: pudding, any flavor will do). I know that I should correct her, but it would seriously ruin my enjoyment. And besides, I dont think I have ever heard an adult call anything CUGE!
So she comes to me a few nights ago and says "Sarah, my friend finally turned 5, so she can babysit me and you and daddy can go out on a date." First of all, this raises so many questions...to begin with, how does she know what a date is? I have never discussed this with her, and secondly, where does she figure that a 5 year old can babysit if her 10 year old sister can't? Gotta love that toddler math!
"Lesterday" (mallory definition: yesterday, even if it was months ago) she gets on her cell phone (an old phone of ours that no longer works) and talks to a little boy named Austin. She says to me from the backseat..."Mama, Austin asked me to go out with him" I said "Really, and where are you going out to?"..."the stower (mallory definition: store) to buy me candy." she said. I quickly replied, no and we would discuss it later. That discussion never came.....
As you can see, there is never a dull moment here. My girls keep me young, or at least they attempt. Have a great weekend!
My favorite Mal word of all time would have to be "babing soup" (mal definition: bathing suit). I will miss this one the most.
It took me a little longer to figure out what "Cudding" was. Simple, I know. (the mallory definition: pudding, any flavor will do). I know that I should correct her, but it would seriously ruin my enjoyment. And besides, I dont think I have ever heard an adult call anything CUGE!
So she comes to me a few nights ago and says "Sarah, my friend finally turned 5, so she can babysit me and you and daddy can go out on a date." First of all, this raises so many questions...to begin with, how does she know what a date is? I have never discussed this with her, and secondly, where does she figure that a 5 year old can babysit if her 10 year old sister can't? Gotta love that toddler math!
"Lesterday" (mallory definition: yesterday, even if it was months ago) she gets on her cell phone (an old phone of ours that no longer works) and talks to a little boy named Austin. She says to me from the backseat..."Mama, Austin asked me to go out with him" I said "Really, and where are you going out to?"..."the stower (mallory definition: store) to buy me candy." she said. I quickly replied, no and we would discuss it later. That discussion never came.....
As you can see, there is never a dull moment here. My girls keep me young, or at least they attempt. Have a great weekend!
The Purpose
Well this is my first blog, I guess you could call me a virgin blogger. I started the blog for the purpose of remembrance. Although I'm only 36, I realized that I can't remember all of the little stories that made me smile. The little moments are the ones that make my heart skip a beat, and I dont want to lose that feeling.
I want to write about past, present, and future moments-moments that made me laugh, cry, hurt and heal. I feel like everybody hurts and everybody has the potential to heal. Everyone has laughed and cried, but its completely up to you which you choose to do more....I personally hope that at the end of my life, my happiness drastically outweighs the hurt, and my laughter overcomes my cries. Each of us has a journey to walk, and it is our decision everyday whether we walk it alone or with the blessings from above. This is why my blog is called Journey Blessings, because my hope for myself and my children is that when in doubt, look up-when in shame, look up-when in love, look up, when content, look up-when all else fails or when all is well, look up, because no matter what..... God does not fail or fall. God Bless each of you, and may your blessings pour out.
Renee
I want to write about past, present, and future moments-moments that made me laugh, cry, hurt and heal. I feel like everybody hurts and everybody has the potential to heal. Everyone has laughed and cried, but its completely up to you which you choose to do more....I personally hope that at the end of my life, my happiness drastically outweighs the hurt, and my laughter overcomes my cries. Each of us has a journey to walk, and it is our decision everyday whether we walk it alone or with the blessings from above. This is why my blog is called Journey Blessings, because my hope for myself and my children is that when in doubt, look up-when in shame, look up-when in love, look up, when content, look up-when all else fails or when all is well, look up, because no matter what..... God does not fail or fall. God Bless each of you, and may your blessings pour out.
Renee
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