Until I Can Think of Something Deep and Life Changing...

Just thought I would let y'all let know that Kate and I made it through 2 WHOLE church services Sunday. UNBELIEVABLE! MIRACULOUS! I'm still amazed. I praise the makers of Laffy Taffy and a purse. As you can see, Kate had an Easter bucket loaded up and ready to go, but I talked her into a purse. She filled it with dolls and other assorted items and it kept her entertained for the FIRST TIME EVER through the ENTIRE service. Not a single scream or fit and only one time laying on her stomach under the pew. I let her do it because she was quiet and did not attempt an escape. Judge me if you want. She did talk a little loud when her little imagination created conversations between her little people, so we had to work on whispering. We will continue working on that one. :) I just thought this was a monumental moment that needed to be documented.

I also wanted some advice from y'all. As you can see, Darth Vader has moved in with us and he, of course, wants a Star Wars themed room. We've been discussing redecorating the kid's rooms and I was wanting a train themed room as Eli, I mean Darth Vader, currently has a wrought iron headboard with a train on it. I am not crazy at all about the whole space thing. What do I do? Do I suck it up and embrace this 4 year old wish or keep working on the campaign to convince Eli he wants a train room? Any thoughts? Suggestions?

Finally, I wanted to let y'all know I started a new Bible study this week. It is Priscilla Shirer's "One in a Million". I had to take this pic because as I sat down at the table to start it on Monday Kate said, "Mommy's Bible. Mommy's milk." Yes, darlin' that is Mommy's Bible and Mommy's "milk". Ha! The sustenace which sustains me like manna from Heaven! It is a Diet Pepsi this week instead of a Diet Coke b/c I forgot to pick up the Diet Cokes in the back of the store and Pepsi had a display on the way to the checkout. One word y'all: L.A.Z.Y. Oh well, I am not picky as long as it keeps that caffeine flowing through my veins!

Speaking of manna from Heaven, this study looks at when God led the Isrealites out of slavery in Egypt to the Promised Land and focuses on the things we need to break free from to experience a greater relationship with God. I'm only on Day 3 but am looking forward to the days to come. The study is not as detailed as some I have done in the past, and that is really a good thing for me right now being in a season where my Bible study time is often spent answering math questions and cleaning up toothpaste off the playroom floor. If you are in the season I am in and feel like you can't even attempt Bible study I think this is a great one to try. Later, when my brain is working, I will try to share spiritual things I've learned from it. :)

BTW, this is so bad of me, but I cannot do this study without getting the "One in a Million" song from the movie Miss Congeniality stuck in my head. Do you know what I'm talking about? The part where they are dancing in the pageant. It's right after that where she falls flat on her face and gets her head thing all tangled up. For some odd reason, that song seems to fit me and this study perfectly. Just when I am strutting my stuff spiritually I have a habit of falling flat on my face too....

We are packing up to head back to Panama City this weekend to visit our families. I'm so excited my sister and nephew (and hopefully my brother-in-law) will be coming too and we will get to watch the Super Bowl together! I can't tell you enough how much I appreciate everyone's prayers and sweet words of encouragement. I continue to covet those prayers as we go through this time of grieving and great change. Do any of you have weekend plans you are excited about? Anybody having Super Bowl parties?

P.S. I've done 15 days of the Shred and today it paid off. Daisy escaped and I chased her down and NOT in the jeep!!! Woo-hoo! :)

Working It Out

If my blog has given you emotional whiplash from the quick turns from sorrow and grief to silliness and laughter I do apologize. I just try to keep it real, and right now that is really how my moods are swingin'. Imagine how fun it is for my husband and children who get to live with me.

I'm embracing the mood swings though, because as I've shared here, I am good at just not feeling. And that is scary.

So many people have told me that I just have to take this grieving thing one day at a time. Truer words have never been spoken. The night we got home we had to make a trip to Wal-Mart and for some reason I decided I needed a new calendar. Obviously, it was a new year and I really did need a new calendar, but I'm not sure why at that point I was even concerned with it. All it represented were lots and lots of days that would be lived without my Daddy. Other than my sister's due date I didn't really even have anything to put in it. I'm convinced that is how I ended up planning my high school reunion. I got out my calendar last January and decided I needed something to fill the empty boxes in my planner. So, here I was with a new, empty calendar in my purse. Lots of days that would be dealt with one at a time.

It may seem strange to some that I got on my exercising kick at this time in life. It couldn't be any stranger to me. I am terrible with resolutions, and really self-discipline altogether, and I had no hope of even setting goals this year. I am a professional pit dweller, isolator, and pity party throwing fool and I felt that this time in life others would appreciate and even encourage that. But, something happened. That calendar. My main resolution this year was to start taking vitamins. Consistently. So, I wrote it down on my calendar to remind and to be able to mark it off every day. Then, I had the idea that maybe if I wrote the Shred down everyday and I got to put a checkmark by it, then maybe that would motivate me. Because you know, I'm like 10 and will do anything for positive reinforcement. I think I'm going to start putting a sticker next to it. :) But so far, it has worked!

Is this the saddest thing you've ever heard? Maybe it is sad, but for me it's a big deal. I've often shared the story that when my depression was at it's worst in 2002-2003 I made the New Year's Resolution to make up my bed every day. Obviously making up your bed is a good thing, but for me the significance of it was that I had to be OUT of the bed to make it up. It may have seemed small and insignificant to anyone else, but it was huge for me.

The reason I think I have such a hard time with things like this is that I am an instant gratification kind of person. Chores like dishes and bed making get to me because you have to do them ALL THE TIME. Over and over and over and well, you get the point. The whole exercising thing holds the same problem. Why can't I do it like twice a year and be good? Of course, it just doesn't work that way. Well, you can do that, but your body will pay the price. I've had to learn that even if I can lose weight without exercising, it is not necessarily best for my body, as evidenced by the fact that my resting heart rate was about 235 after I finished the Shred for the first time. I'm exaggerating of course (a little bit). Still, wherever this self-discipline has come from that has allowed me to exercise everyday has completely amazed me at how much my body can change in just a short amount of time. And there is nothing magical or surgical about it. I've just had to work my booty off.

This post is actually not about exercise, but about the way God has been speaking to me during this time of grief. Philippians 2:12 says, 12Therefore, my dear friends, as you have always obeyed—not only in my presence, but now much more in my absence—continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling,

That is what God has been speaking to me about. I've got to work this out. In the same way I have to work my body for fitness or work through the stages of grief (I will post about that later), I have to keep working out my salvation. Now don't read this wrong. I do not believe we can do anything to earn or keep our salvation. Not a thing. You won't meet a girl who basks more in the freedom of Christ and seeks to liberate others from the ball and chain of religion and duty. But, my salvation, my relationship with God, it must continually be worked out. I wish so much I could not struggle with doubts any more. I would give my right arm to not deal with anger or selfishness. But I do. Because, as long as I'm here, it is so I can keep working it out. There is no magical prayer to make me perfect on this earth, there is no Bible study I can complete and be done with my spiritual growth. It's a process. And sometimes it's hard.

This morning Sarah was watching me make omelettes (btw, my Dad made the BEST cheese omelettes and he had just taught me the art in the last six months) and she said that the only thing she is good at making is toast. She lamented that her grits never work out. I had to hide my snicker, because, bless her heart, she gets it honest. She went on to say that she couldn't wait until she was a grown up and could fix anything. I didn't have the heart to break it to her that her Mama has been a grown up (according to the numbers on my birth certificate) for quite a while and it has not been long that I've mastered anything other than toast. When she said that it brought back the childlike idea I too once held. The idea that you magically reach a certain age and know it all and know how to do everything. Do you remember believing that way?

Oh how hard the reality of life. The reality that the only way we learn anything or master anything is through repetitive, hard, back breaking and spirit breaking labor.

As if I weren't sure that God was speaking this to me, Josh had to go and preach about the wise man who built his house on the rock. Matthew 7:24 tells us, Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. He pointed out that we often overlook the most important word in that verse. He BUILT. He didn't move into the house after it was finished and professionally decorated. He built on the rock. The old fashioned, hard working, time consuming way. God asks us to grow our faith the same way. To build it, one back breaking lesson at a time.

I'm Sorry, Did You Want Your Food Cooked?

I just wanted to update the 2 of you who read my blog and let you know that last night, I moved up to Level 2 in the Shred! Woo-hoo! I never knew the day would come. It took me seven days to be able to do level 1 without stopping and I decided I should do it a couple of more times to make sure my body wasn't playing a trick on me. And I was petrified to go to level 2. Just sayin'. But, I had stopped being sore and so I thought that meant I probably needed to push myself some more. So I did. And it was ugly, but I've come to accept, I'm just way out of shape and I will probably have to do the 30 Day Shred for 330 days before I will be considered for a spot in Jillian's next workout video. Oh, you didn't know that is my new goal?? NOT!!! Anyway, I can honestly tell a huge difference in my stamina and y'all I went from doing 2 push-ups (girl style of course) to 15 at a time!! I do not say that bragging, I say that in complete and utter astonishment. For real.

Well, I've decided if I'm going to torture my body, I mean workout to be healthier, that I really need to get on board with my diet as well. Wednesday nights are kind of crazy for us with church and so usually we just pick something up. But, I determined that I was going to cook and it was going to be healthy. I found a recipe for Parmesan crusted Tilapia and was excited that I had all of the ingredients. But, I have this funny thing about cooking meat. I don't like to do it. It scares me, I don't ever feel like I know when it is done. That is why I am a casserole girl. I can throw all of the stuff together and cover everything in cheese. Well, I fixed the fish, some black-eyed peas and some broccoli, cauliflower, and carrots. Just so you know, that is a record number of vegetables eaten in one DAY in the Fidler home, much less one meal. Anyway, my fish even looked like the picture so I was pretty excited...

Until we sat down to eat. I cracked up when I saw that picture of the little girl because it is the exact reaction I got from my children. I am not big on fish so I thought they just weren't either. Sarah and Eli made sure to tell me how much they didn't like it and Kate went so far as to chew it up and spit it on the floor. These kids keep me humble I tell ya. Just the other night I was telling Josh that I had read about people who actually do a "chew and spit" diet. I was joking about how romantic that would be on a date and Josh shared that he would be ticked off if he took a girl on a date and she chewed up a steak and spit it back out. That's why he loves me y'all, I DO NOT waste food. :) Anyway, I kept waiting for Josh to take a bite of his because he does like fish and I was just so proud of myself for this new cooking venture. I noticed he wasn't eating anymore after the first couple bites. I was carrying on about my fear of not cooking meat all the way when I realized his face said it all. "It's not cooked all the way is it?" I asked, not needing an answer. He sympathetically answered, "It's okay, it's sushi."

I tell ya, I don't know what else these people expect from me. I do their dishes, I wash their clothes. And now, they expect me to actually cook their food. The nerve of some people.... :)

A Movie and Dinner at an Inside Restaurant

Saturday morning I sweetly knelt down beside the chair Josh was sitting in and laid my head on his shoulder. I then sweetly asked, could we please go somewhere? Anywhere???? I was just at that point. Other than church Wednesday night I had spent every second of the week in the house with my kids. It was time to go to somewhere! So, my kind and loving husband, who spent all week going nonstop, agreed that we could go somewhere. Where did I want to go? To the movies!!

We embarked for the movie theater and got there late. (Shocking, I know.) So, we decided to go get something to eat and catch the next show. The kids wanted Cracker Barrel. Yummy! But could we do this? Could we eat at an "inside" restaurant as my kids call it AND sit through a movie? We decided to try. Because really, we can't get two feet from a Cracker Barrel and not eat at it. It's just not possible. As we sat down and enjoyed our meal I was completely in awe. I have actually raised little people who can be taken into civilization and eat at "inside" restaurants and carry on conversations. A-mazing! I was even proud of my healthy side choice of baby carrots until I googled the recipe and discovered they are cooked in sugar, honey and bacon grease. Oh well. Let's go back to being proud of my kids. :)

We went to a movie y'all! And we saw the whole thing! With the exception of a brief moment of panic when I had to walk a flight of stairs to get Kate, it went great. You see, Josh had taken Kate with him to get popcorn and drinks and when he came back he was bearing a tray. Did you know they have trays at the movies? Well, they do and it was huge and Josh put it in my lap so he could take Eli to the bathroom. Kate took advantage of that moment to take a stroll up the stairs in the stadium seating and I had to figure out where to put the tray to be able to get up and catch her. BUT...other than that, it was all good. :)

I am bragging on this experience because it was less than two years ago that we had a VERY different experience at the movies. If you're bored and have nothing else to do you can read about it here. I hope this gives hope to all mothers of babies and toddlers, that you too will one day be able to leave the house again.:)




July 2008 Sarah's Birthday


Yesterday I had a day when I really wanted to quit my job. But, I've already done that!! Then, I have days at home of non-stop cleaning and screaming,fussing kids and I think, 'maybe I should work longer hours!' Well, it's been a while since I've blogged and I just wanted to update everyone and let them know I'VE LOST MY MIND!!!! Ok, so maybe y'all have known that for a while, but I feel I've reached a level of craziness that is a new development.

It all started less than a month ago when I decided that instead of having another party for Sarah's birthday (her mammy had one for her in P.C.) that we should just take her and some of her friends to the movies because she had been wanting to go. Sounds easy enough right? No decorations, messy treats or hours of cleanup. HA! Me and Josh packed up two vehicles (we only have enough room for our crew in one) and headed to Pearl, MS (a 45 minute drive, I promise EVERYTHING is 45minutes from our house)for a night at the movies. Josh had Kate and Eli and I had Sarah and her friends Jacey and Brittany.We jammed on the way although I think I probably jammed the most.It's kind of embarrassing when you know the Jonas Brother's song better than the kids. We got there and had supper at McDonalds. We had bought our tickets before hand which was a good thing because you know what it's like getting kids to leave the playground. Of course we got there late and we had to have all of the concessions even though we had just eaten. So, there's me and Josh, an 11 month old in a stroller, a 3 year old, a 6,7, and 9 year old, 2 HUGE tubs of popcorn, 6 (yes I said 6) drinks, and a box of goobers. ( I felt I had earned some goobers!) As I took out my cell phone and pager to silence them I thougt 'I have become one of THOSE people.' You know THOSE people with the cell phones and the babies at the movies. How did that happen?

Well, about 10 minutes into the movie all 4 kids needed to go to the bathroom. I was glad that at least it was a group trip and they didn't decide they needed to go at 4 different times. A few minutes after we got back things got a little scary on the screen and Eli jumped in my lap and said "I'm ready to get outta this place." We made it a few more minutes and Josh had to take Kate out. Then Eli decided he needed another bathroom break. Josh was pushing Kate in the foyer and after Eli went I stayed with Kate so Josh could go. That's what happens when you have 6 drinks!!!!!!!!! J/K. I took Eli back in and we made it through the rest of the movie. But, as soon as it was over everybody needed to go to the bathroom again. So we headed back. I threw away the leftover popcorn but I held onto mine and Josh's drinks. One, I figured the more caffeine we had the better, and two, those drinks had cost more than our supper! All was fine until we were leaving the bathroom and one of the cups collapsed in my hand and spilled all over the floor and mine and Sarah's feet. Fabulous. It was really the right way to end the night. I can't tell you much about the movie but I can describe the bathroom in detail...

Despite that little experience I again had the idealistic dream that I could take all three of my kids to Target (an hour and a half trip) by myself to do back to school shopping. Oh my gracious! Somebody has been slipping me some crazy juice! All I will say is that we made it home, the kids are in bed, and I'm rocking myself in the La-Z-Boy!

The other day I stayed home to try and do some major cleaning. At the end of the day I took the trash to the dump and then went to the convenience store to pick up some pizzas. Some guy was sitting on a bench outside and he gave me some kind of look. It wasn't until I got back in the car that I realized how bad I looked. I hadn't bathed, brushed my teeth, or brushed my hair. Honestly, I was one beard short of looking like the unabomber! I told Josh that's what he has to look forward to when I'm home all the time!

In the last week I've had a situation where I've been discussing the process of having someone committed with a family. That is not a funny situation, but I must say that I'm not so sure who I am to be trying to have other people committed. I feel like I should watch my back because if I have anymore days like the one where I was pulled over on the side of the road beating my seats because I was convinced there was a mouse the men in the white coats might be coming for me. And when people come to visit and they politely whisper in the hallway, "What pushed her over the edge?" they may speculate it was the stress of my job or the challenges of being a preacher's wife, but Josh will have to tell them "It was the dirty clothes. She just couldn't handle it anymore."

So there you go, I'm certifiable!!

The Nightmare Before Christmas

Today it is one month since my Daddy left us. I wish I could say, "This now concludes the grieving portion of life", but unfortunately that doesn't seem to be the case. I must say that this is the first day in my entire life that I am feeling a high after a football game. In case you didn't see my 1,800 status updates on Facebook, the Saints won last night and are going to the Super Bowl!!!!!!!!!!!! Y'all, I don't know the first thing about football and no matter how hard I try, it rarely ever holds my attention. But last night, I can't explain it. My Daddy was the BIGGEST Saints fan ever and has rooted for them through the good and the bad. I loved that game because I felt close to my Dad. I could see him jumping off the couch, pacing the room, and screaming at the TV. I could hear him saying, "WHO DAT? WHO DAT?" If he had enjoyed hunting or carpentry maybe I would now find comfort in those things. But, my Daddy loved football and specifically the the Saints.`As my family, my Mom, sister, Uncles and cousins "watched" the game together through Facebook, and rooted for that underdog team, I couldn't help but think of the night exactly a month ago when my Daddy was taken off of life support and we were joined together in a tragic way that will bond us forever.

I made sure to grab the Saints stocking that was hanging from an IV pole in my Dad's ICU room to take with us to the private room he was being taken to. I bought him that stocking for Christmas one year and wanted him to have it at the hospital. It had been holding a fake, purple flower that Sarah had made sure to send for Pappy when I had left for Florida on Dec. 19. My family had made the decision hours earlier to take my Dad off of life support and we had waited anxiously for the Dr. to come and sign the papers. Once he had been taken off my cousin, Drew, and Uncle Reggie went to see him so they could come back and prepare us for what we would be seeing. We all made our way to his room and were instantly overcome with grief at the sight of his extremely labored breathing. To make things even worse, although his eyes had been closed since Sunday and he had just looked like he was sleeping, they were now open, although totally unaware. I am scared to even say that I will never witness anything so horrific again in my life, but that moment will definitely be burned in my memory for life. We held hands as a family and prayed over my Daddy. This time the prayers were no longer for miraculous healing, but for Jesus to comfort him and take him quickly. You see, we were told when we made the decision that he could still live for a few hours...or weeks. My Uncle Reggie was the last to pray over my Daddy and just yesterday I thought about that moment. Him praying over the brother who had come into the world at the same time as him and he was releasing him, telling him it was okay to go.

After that prayer we spent a few more hours in ICU waiting for his private room. It was during that time of waiting that my Aunt Trish came back to tell us about the man who had come up to her in the waiting room and told her he had been watching our family all night. He too, had lost a twin brother and someone else on Christmas. When Trish asked him who he was there for, he simply answered, "Oh, I'm just here for y'all." We never did find out who he was or see him again.

They finally came to move my Dad to a private room and that is when I grabbed his stocking. My Mom and I went up in the elevator with him and the nurses. It was such a surreal moment. I was taking my Daddy to the room he would die in. When we got to the room they started trying to round up chairs for our crew. I'm pretty sure we got every chair on the floor. It was so incredibly difficult to watch him struggle to breathe. They had placed an oxygen mask on him because his oxygen level had started dropping so quickly when he first came off of the ventilator. Uncle Reggie told us more childhood stories and I teased him that he was the reason my Dad was such a worrywart. Uncle Reg had spent his life jumping out of trees and off of roofs. I wished so much my Dad would start telling us his side of the stories...

The time moved slow. There were only so many times to go to the drink machine, the bathroom or check messages. There was just no way to ease the suffering. For my Dad or anyone in that room watching him. I thought of a time I was doing my internship in the ER and I sat with a man who was dying. His family hadn't gotten there yet and I had felt that someone needed to be with him. My supervisor, knowing I wanted to work with Hospice, had come in and explained the physiology of dying. She had seen it as a learning opportunity. As I sat with my Dad the physiology of dying wasn't on my mind. His heart was still beating and his lungs were still breathing, but my Daddy had been gone for almost a week. In fact, I think Dec. 19th will be the day that is hardest for me. That is the day I really lost my Dad. That was the day this new learning opportunity I never wanted started.

Things would only get worse that night. The respiratory therapist came in and someone asked her about the oxygen mask and if it was just prolonging the inevitable. She went off. She told us if it were her family member she would never take off the oxygen mask and she used the word "suffocation" which I will be honest, is all I heard. Drew was furious. He said he had never seen anyone mess up a consult so bad. I had to agree that while I wanted someone to be honest with us, it was not professional for her to tell us what she would do in that situation. That sent us all in a tailspin as we all tried to absorb that information and decide what to do. At that point I went to the conference room where the drink machine was and had a mini nervous breakdown. As I finished I looked up to see a hospital employee standing at the other end of the room. Mental note: Always check and make sure a room is empty BEFORE you have a nervous breakdown.

Josh and I found the respiratory therapist and asked her some questions. I was very confused because we kept being told that my Dad couldn't feel pain and then we were told he had some pain reflex. The biggest thing I learned through all of this is that as far as we have come scientifically and medically, there are just a lot of things we still don't know. Especially concerning the brain. Anyway, she explained that if we took the oxygen mask off that it would very difficult for the family to be present when he died. She suggested slowly turning down the oxygen and upping his Morphine. I went back and we had a family conference and we decided that was the best thing to do.

Again, it was so surreal. It was Christmas Eve and my family was discussing which would be the best way for my Dad to die. Finally, about 2:00 Christmas morning almost everyone had left to go home and get some sleep. My Mom and brother, Philip, were having cots brought in to spend the night. Uncle Reggie was staying too. Josh and I left to go do our Santa duties. I cannot say enough good things about my husband. Not only did he have to pack up 3 kids and a dog and make a six hour trip by himself, but he also had to go by our storage shed and load up unwrapped Christmas presents with the kids in the van. He is amazing. He did, however, forget to grab the bag of stocking stuffers and so, at 2:00 Christmas morning we set out to find an open store. There was one. A convenience store. My Mom still has stockings at her house for EVERYBODY. I decided it would be fun to do everybody's. Y'all we spent $92.00!!! At a gas station!! We were carrying armfuls of candy, pens, duct tape, tire gauges, and pickles. (My sister is pregnant. I couldn't resist getting her a pickle. :) The guy ringing it up (who I'm sure hated our guts) told us he had never had anyone spend that much money on anything besides gas, beer, or cigarettes! Leave it to us to break the record! I couldn't help but think that my Dad would have loved that story.

We made it to my Mom's and started wrapping presents. My poor brother-in-law, Dillon, was trying to sleep on the couch, but he got up to help us. I usually have all of the presents wrapped besides the Santa ones, but I hadn't done it this year because Kate is at the age where I couldn't put any presents under the tree yet. So, we had to wrap everything! And, the kids had made a pallet on the floor...in front of the tree! We were making so much noise. I just knew we were going to blow it big time, but apparently the kids were as tired as everybody else b/c they never even flinched. (The next day Sarah asked me how Santa had put the presents out without waking them up. I told her Santa is just really good! :) I also found out later that we had eaten the WRONG cookies and thankfully my sister, Jenny, had eaten the RIGHT Santa cookies that morning before she left for the hospital!

After that we loaded up some pillows and blankets to take to Mom and Phil at the hospital. We went back and talked with Uncle Reg some. My Dad seemed a little more restful. Or maybe I had just gotten accustomed to seeing him like that. I don't know. Finally, about 4:30 Josh convinced me to go back to the house and try to get some sleep. I kissed my Daddy's cheek and said good-bye. The whole sleep thing was a bad idea. I don't know what time it was when the kids woke us up, but it hurt! I sat on the floor in a daze while they opened presents. My contacts were glued to my eyes. I've never had cement glue in my eyes, but I imagine that is what it would feel like. I guess non-stop crying and sleep deprivation will have that effect. We survived the opening of presents and minutes after finishing Dillon came and put his arm around me and I knew. My Dad was gone.

I had slept in my jeans and Philip's gray hoodie that I had borrowed the morning before when we went to the hospital. The morning before I knew we would be spending the night watching my Dad die. I took off and headed back to the hospital. I hadn't been there. I hadn't been there when he took his last breath. I wanted to be upset, but there is no doubt in my mind that he would have been upset if I hadn't been with the kids opening Christmas presents.

I have to say that when I got there I lost it. As I shared in my last post, all I could say was, "I'm just gonna miss him." But once, I calmed down, I had such a peace. Because he was finally at peace. My Uncle Jamie hugged me and I warned him that I hadn't had a shower. We went to another room to wait for the dr. to come talk to us. Dr. Adhal had been my Dad's primary doctor for many years. After he finished talking with us I found myself chasing him out of the room. I told him that my Dad had always talked so highly of him and really thought a lot of him. I thanked him. He had a tear in his eye and told me that he considered my Dad a friend and that he was just sorry. I will be completely honest here and tell you that one of the things that made me the saddest is that I don't feel like my Dad knew how much people loved, respected and admired him. So please, if there is someone you love, respect, or admire, you should tell them today.

When I left the hospital I went by CVS because I had not bought Josh a single Christmas present and they were the only store open. Poor Josh, he got a memory foam pillow and a clothes steamer. :) At home Josh and Dillon had fixed a delicious Christmas dinner for us. Dillon said all he did was help peel the eggs, but I considered that cooking for years, so I'm giving him credit too. :)After we ate everybody else decided to go out to the base and hang out with the rest of the family, but I just couldn't do it. I have never been so exhausted in my life. Kate crawled up in my Uncle Jamie's lap and fell asleep so Josh and I decided we would lay her down and we would take a nap too. When I laid down it was the first time that whole week that everything hit me. I have never cried like that in my life. And, then, I fell asleep. I wish I could tell you here that I woke up and it was all just a bad dream. It wasn't. I woke up and the nightmare was even more real than before.

Homesick

Here I am, up late again. I've always been such a night owl. For as long as I can remember I've been a night owl. My Dad always told the story of when I was two and I stayed up ALL night long when my Mimi came to stay with us.As in, I did not go to sleep AT ALL. Legend has it that I made her fix me a "do dog" (hot dog) at like 3:00 in the morning. Why, you ask, would someone do such a thing? Well, I was obviously spoiled rotten! Anyway, back to my night owl issues. The thing I've noticed about grieving is that it hits me at all different times and in different ways. Maybe something little first thing in the morning or when I'm tired in the afternoon. I just never know. But, without fail, I can count of the grief to hit me as soon as I lay down in bed.

Even my most uneventful days are full of 3 kids and a dog. So, even on good days I still stay pretty busy and occupied. It is easy to pretend that life is still normal and my Dad is in Florida and I am in Mississippi. Then, I lay down and that nightmare (that I still haven't finished writing about)comes back and I am overwhelmed by the fact that I won't talk to him on Saturday morning and I won't see his encouraging "You can do it Em" comments on my Facebook status about my struggles with the kids. I haven't been able to post any new pics because I know this time he won't be the first one to comment, "My beautiful grandkids." Tonight I will think about how he would've gotten a kick out of hearing about our experience taking the kids to Cracker Barrel and the movies. He would be amazed that I've done the stinkin' Shred for 8 days in a row now. He would be impressed at how I handled the puking situation in this house last week as I most definitely inherited my weak stomach from him. I will think about all of these things and how they are of no interest to anybody else, but my Dad would have cared. And it makes me homesick.

I will never forget my many attempts at my first sleepover. I can't for the life of me remember the first time I actually spent the night at somebody's house, but I do remember plenty of attempts. It was the same every time. I would be excited about it all week. My friend and I would make big plans. I would go to their house, we would play, eat supper, play some more. And then...it would be time for bed. And I would get...homesick. I think it had a lot to do with my night owl status. At slumber parties with 8 or 9 girls, I would be the last to go to sleep. Of course, that is when I made it to that point. There were MANY times before that my Daddy would drive across town in the middle of the night to pick me up and take me home.

Josh still tells the story of the day my family dropped me off at college. I was going to William Carey which was 6 hours from home. Who knew that the little girl who couldn't spend the night away from home would one day be able to go to a college where she knew no one and was 6 hours from home? Well, Josh rode there with me in the Little Red Rocket, but left with my Dad in the minivan. He said they both did their best to avoid eye contact with each other as they cried their eyes out. I know so many people whose parents tell them that as soon as they're 18 they are out of the house. Not my Daddy. He made sure to tell me (I think every time I talked to him :) that I could always come back home.

After Josh and I were married I had a moment when it hit me (of course, late at night when I was up by myself) that I couldn't go back home. At least not the way that it had been. I would go to visit and I would always be welcome there,but it wouldn't be the same. At least that is what I thought then. The truth is, my Daddy never stopped being my Daddy. And when I was 7 months pregnant with Sarah and living by myself in a big house while Josh worked out of town all week, my Dad would come hang out at night with his independent daughter who insisted on staying by herself instead of at his house during that time.

So, here it is bed time (or really like 3 hours past it) and I am homesick for my Daddy.
At the hospital when I saw him for the first time with no breath left in his body, my emotional response was, "I'm just gonna miss him." I heard my Uncle Reggie utter those exact same words minutes later. And I do. I just miss him...

Freeze Frame

Has anyone ever hurt you before? I mean, said or done something that hurt you so bad it was like they were punching you in the gut? And maybe it happened at a time when you already felt out for the count and so it was more like getting kicked while you were already down?

I recently experienced this and I was tempted to harbor a lot of anger and bitterness about it. A lot of self-pity, a lot of "Why does this always happen to us?" kind of feelings. Okay, I was more than tempted. I did have anger. I did question. I wanted other people to know about this injustice. I really regret that because I just dragged them into my negativity. On top of that I know it made others think badly of the person. The truth is, it would have been one thing if it were someone who consistently hurt my feelings or did me wrong. They're not. In fact it was the person that made the situation that much harder because they were the last person I would have expected it from. To quote the super spiritual Clark Griswold from "National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation", "If I woke up tomorrow morning with my head sewn to the carpet I couldn't be more surprised." :) It was one of those situations.

The person apologized and things were made right. Except my heart. It still wanted to feel angry, hurt and mistreated. Of course, God never lets me get away with that. The more I thought about it the more I felt like He began to bring certain experiences from my life to mind. Things I've said, fits I've thrown, bad decisions from years ago. And I felt like He was asking me, "What if this moment was in a freeze frame and it was all people knew about you?" *Shudder* Have you been there? Do you have those moments in your life? I wanted to get on my knees and beg, "NO! Not that time! Not that moment! Not those words! Anything but THAT time!"

Fortunately, I don't have to beg. I've already been forgiven and those sins wiped away. "In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins, according to the riches of His grace." Ephesians 1:7 It is tempting to find security in that forgiveness and forget that it is not only offered to me. One of my favorite stories is in John chapter 8. It is about a woman who was physically caught in the act of adultery. In those days the law said that she should be stoned. The "religious" people came to Jesus and asked what he thought they should do. He answered, "He who is without sin among you, let him throw a stone at her first."

Many times we use that story to justify our own sin. To tell people they shouldn't judge us. This story is a different ballgame when we are the ones who have been wronged and realize that we have no stone to throw. My heart was hurt by someone who said something most likely out of their own hurt or just not thinking. I wish I could feel justified in saying that I have NEVER said something I later regretted. I wish....but I can't. I'm just thankful for second chances. And third, and fourth, and fifth...