My Life...daily reflections

Thanksgiving leftovers

 

We had a wonderful day with family. Hope you did too.

Filled to overflowing

"A good marriage is one which allows for change and growth in the individuals and in the way they express their love."  Pearl S. Buck

 

Tomorrow David and I will be married for 10 years.

Wow.

An entire decade of marriage. Yes, I'm just as surprised as anyone that we've made it this far. When I explain to people that we've been together much longer, 18 years total, they often can't even fathom that we've only been married as long as we have. Not sure why, guess we seem like a REALLY old married couple.

Every year I try and pen something sweet and romantic about Dave on this blog. Every year he gets embarrassed and wishes that I hadn't. Needless to say, I won't honor that request again this year. Sorry honey.

Considering that I've been writing on the blog now for three years, I've pretty much covered the history of us. There was the first entry where I wrote about our wedding. Then the next year, I wrote a brief love note and showed a picture of us past and present (getting our anniversary date wrong in the first line!), and last year when I recollected our early years. So, when it came to writing this year's post I was wondering what I would talk about since I've covered so much already. I knew just where to turn for inspiration...the box. We all have one (or several in my case), the box where you keep your memories...the love letters and bits and pieces of your life that mean the most. I got mine off the shelf, grabbed a cup of tea and sat down to go down memory lane. What a trip full of emotions.

The first story I wanna share is the one about the condition of a good portion of the letters in my box...torn letters, many in halves or more pieces. Why do I have a box of torn letters? Because when I was 19 years old I was crazy. One evening, back in college, at my first apartment, Dave and I had a bad fight. What about, I don't recall in the least. Ido recall it being very heated. During this time in our relationship we fought, ALOT. Anyway, in the heat of battle I wanted to hurt him, not physically (though that probably crossed my mind and I might have even attempted it). So I grabbed the box of letters I'd saved from him and tore it open and began ripping. All I remember is thinking to myself, "What are you doing?!" I remember the look of hurt on David's face, still.And him begging me to stop and how he walked over and grabbed something, a gift from him that meant more to me than anything in the world...an antique copy of Les Miserables that he'd had bound for me and specially engraved for our first Christmas together. He asked me to stop ripping his letters. I didn't. He threatened to tear his love note to me out of the front of the book. It was a Mexican standoff. I didn't stop, he ripped the book. I stopped and felt my heart break.

All I can recall now from this incident is that he left and I sat in the middle of my apartment, surrounded by torn pieces of paper and my book, damaged and thrown to the floor. Every ounce of anger I had a minute before was gone and was replaced by pure anguish and regret. For close to an hour, I crawled around on the floor, sobbing, gathering each piece of paper and matching it to the letter it had been ripped from. When I got done I debated on what to do. I taped two of the letters that meant the most to me. For the rest, I carefully folded the pieces into each other and put them in my box. There are very few actions of mine that I have and will regret for my entire life. This incident is one of them. It hurt Dave so much. And me. All because of heated feelings that I now can't even recall.

Obviously, we made it past that fight...and many more. We made it through our late teens, our 20s and now half way through our 30s. We made it through college, medical school, residency, moves, buying houses, having kids, paying bills, being sick, family trouble, worry, stress, exhaustion. Back then, during this fight probably, I wouldn't have laid one dollar on us making it together for another day let alone a decade...nearly two. Marriage? Never.

But looking through that box of letters from David, holding together the torn pieces, seeing the deep emotion and pledges made for life long commitment and love, I was just overwhelmed with gratitude. During those very intense first years of our relationship we were very emotional and romantic, obviously. We wrote letters near daily when he first went to college. The letters, notes and cards, continued, though not as frequently, all these years. The sentiment from him to me...well, to say I'm blessed is an understatement. He's got a way with words for sure when he wants them. Thank God.

A couple of my favorites from the box:

The card he made me during a call night during residency where he cut apart medical journals to convey his feelings.

The card he gave me on our first wedding anniversary in which I surprisingly found a note written below his from his late nephew Wes, then about 8 years old, that said he loved me too.

The note he left one morning to remind me to check the air in my tire before I lef for work.

The sign that said, "All Girls Must Sign In" and "No Girls After Hours" that I grabbed from his dorm when I was sneaking out, not signed in, after hours!

The card he left me before we got married.

The card he wrote me when we found out we were first pregnant with Sarah.

All of them.

Though this is not a card, it is a record of my undying love and devotion and IMMENSE thankfulness for this man, this life, this love. I hope he can look back on it one day and have the kind of joy I had sifting through all those bits and pieces...of my heart. Thanks for filling up both (my heart and the box).

Here's to 10x10 more! (Ok, that's not possible, but a sweet sentiment nonetheless).

Ruby in her own time

I got out my camera this morning and took some shots of Ruby hanging out on the playroom bed, in her underwear, as usual, watching cartoons. She decided posing and acting silly was fun. More than 200 photos later of her cavorting about and jumping on the bed, I got these two shots (only ones remotely worth editing and showing, of course). I need a new lens badly. Um, Santa...

 

 

And this surprise...I didn't think I actually took a photo, but I did. I adore it. Nice surprise for mama the photographer!

Mixed bag

Man, it's cold! And when I say cold, I do mean cold...especially for South of the Mason-Dixon line, for November especially. Tonight's low, 21! I got married (10 years ago next week) in November wearing a thin, spaghetti strap dress, on Thanksgiving Day. So, this is a bit out of the norm for around these parts, but I LIKE it. I've been out buying sweaters and turtlenecks, which means it will probably be 80 here next week.

In other news...

Ruby has a cavity. At three. Ugh. I brush her teeth JUST like I did Sarah, who is nearly seven and never had a cavity. But apparently Ruby inherited my crowded teeth and flossing needed to be done (unknowingly to me...Sarah had gaps, oh well). So in two weeks we must drill and fill a back molar, in between the teeth, cavity on a child who screamed bloody murder (first time she's ever done that at the dentist) when they x-rayed her this week. I had the option of complete sedation or gas. I chose, probably unwisely, the gas. Yes, I'm so looking forward to it.

We had our family reunion and it was COLD and rainy, so no great chances for outside photos. But the kids had fun and we spent time with family. I took a few shots that I am pleased with...

This is David's niece Kally and her husband Joey and son Jaylon. I took their wedding photos. We'd hoped to do a family portrait this day, but it was absolutely freezing and wet outside. Jaylon was cold and wouldn't look up.

I love this one. I think she's gonna love it to (can you say Christmas present? Shhh)

 

This is David's sister Renee, Jaylon's nana. Her son is the one who died a couple of months ago, our nephew Wesley. It took ALOT for her to come to the family reunion. You can easily see why she did though. I will be blowing this up for her and framing it for Christmas. Jaylon looks remarkably like Wes, especially in those big bright blue eyes. I haven't seen her smile like that in a long while.

So sweet.

This shot of Jaylon really reminds me of this shot I took of Wes when he was little..

 

 

With Papa. It took alot for Papa to make it to the reunion too. Wes' absence was felt deeply by all of us.

Now for something completely different.

A few months back Dave and I found this awesome juicer in an antiques store. When I got it home, I discovered it was pretty corroded. My dear father-in-law (Papa) took it upon himself to go in search of a replacement for the bad part...which involved a machine shop making us a brand new one since they didn't make replacements for our model any longer.

Here's the original, probably at least 50 years old (they apparently didn't clean the orange juice off it and it completely ate through the aluminum!) All the dark spots you see are holes! The juice would just squirt out of them when you tried to use the juicer, making it sort of useless.

 

Check out the new one, that fits perfectly, made to spec by a local machine shop Papa found. He's such a nice guy...all that trouble just so we could have fresh squeezed juice. Thank you Papa, we love ya.

 

My friend Erin will be happy about this part of my post. Ruby's new big girl room...I finally got it done, last touches, this week. Here's shots...

 

Light is horrible...one window, gray day. Oh well.

 

 

 

 

 

And lastly, the first signs of Christmas are emerging around my house...

 

Daylight fading

 

I took this this afternoon...it had been gray all day and suddenly this shaft of light hit this maple tree behind my house and just made it light up like a beacon. Beautiful.

It made me think of this Counting Crows song.

Stuff and silly Sarah

Not much goin' on around here. We're just doin' our thang. Dave's off. So far this week we've had dental appointments, a knitting class (for me) parent teacher conferences and something else I can't remember. Left on the agenda is Thanksgiving lunch at Sarah's school, a birthday party, dance class, and a family reunion and teddy bear tea party! Busy week!

I managed to grab a shot of the girls before school this morning. I thought they looked so cute. They're not smiling the best, but hey, it was early!

 

Then I took some shots of Sarah while she was working on a project for school. She started acting a bit silly as I was taking the pictures.

 

 

 

 

Remember our veterans

Remember those who have fought and died, those who are fighting and dying, and all who will fight and die for our nation. They gave the ultimate sacrifice to stand in honor of the greatest country the world has or ever will know. War perhaps is wrong and awful, but the men who fight it deserve nothing but our utmost respect.

My own father was a Naval veteran, served in the pacific theater during World War II. His father served in the Army in World War I, losing an arm in battle. 

I have a long standing appreciation and admiration to those who have been in service to our country. History was my favorite subject as a child in school. I won't ever forget learning exactly what war was, and America's role in it, when I was in third grade. I'd say that was a clear day in my mind's eye of when my youthful naivete was really slashed. But, I remember making the clear connection with what honor meant and fighting for what you believe, even if it meant giving your life. 

In eighth grade we took a trip to Washington, D.C. Being the history buff I was, touring the monuments, being in the White House (back when they actually allowed tours), and the Capital, I was just in awe and wonder. The most meaningful part of the trip was when we went to Arlington National Cemetery. I will never forget the sight of those soldiers' graves going on for what seemed like miles and being humbled. Though I cried at the eternal flame of President Kennedy, the big tears came at the tomb of the Unknown Soldier. I recall standing in silence as two of my classmates went with the guards to place a wreath upon the tomb,  trying to stifle my sobs. I was about 14 at the time. The reverence for that place was not lost on me then or now. 

So, on this veterans day David and I will discuss war with our girls, the brutal truth of it. After thinking about learning the specifics of what war is at school and how it impacted me, we decided it would be best to talk about the subject personally with them. But we will also explain to them, as best we can muster, the whys of war too and most importantly the how, the men and women who fight in the name of what is good and right. No matter what your feelings on war, specific ones or in general, there should be no argument about honor of those who must execute them. There simply is no great sacrifice or call to honor.

We will also being going to a local Veteran's Day parade to watch Mr. Haynes, who I wrote about here, be grand marshall...perhaps for the last time in his long, honorable life.

In honor of my late father who was a World War II history buff, and my late nephew Wesley, whose favorite movie this was and our last Christmas gift to him, here is one of the most impressive scenes from any movie ever done about war, Band of Brothers: WARNING: It's war, therefore not nice to see.

"Valor is stability, not of legs and arms, but of courage and the soul." ~Michel de Montaigne

Music makes it all better

Bon Iver - LaBlogtheque

Yeasayer - LaBlogtheque

Hello, Seahorse -"Won't Say Anything"

Haven't posted them in a while...my boys, the Avetts, at the concert in Nashville I went to last month.

A lovely surprise, a new video of my boys. They are so damn adorable it ain't even funny.

Lastly, these two video of songs I love. WARNING: These songs have EXPLICIT  LYRICS...so no kids near the computer! They're covers of rap songs. Don't email me. I warned you.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wCAM3C3dpIA - Gourds - "Gin and Juice

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2_N3CK-6CHk - Ben Folds - "Bitches Ain't Shit"

Fall, 2008

The girls...

Leaves...

Fun...

Laughter...

Mom smiles.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Coming to terms

For anyone who knows me, it is common knowledge that I've been pretty political since I was old enough to understand the difference between a conservative and a liberal. Considering I grew up during the Reagan years, you can probably estimate easily about what age that was.

Recently, I told David a story about when Reagan left office. I was 16 years old and had been home sick with strep throat. I was under the covers of my bed watching television. It was 1988 and George Bush had just been elected president. Reagan was on television giving a farewell speech to America. At this age, I was already a die-hard, at least to me, Democrat and opposed everything Reagan "stood for". I was glad he was going and mad that Bush was taking his place (not the only time I'd be angry over a Bush in the White House). Now I can't even recall why I was watching his speech, but as he spoke, finishing his goodbye to America, a montage started of his years in office. Without even realizing it, I felt tears roll down my face, which turned to sobs. I laid in my bed sobbing for a good 20 minutes, completely shocked at my own display, figuring I must be really sick to be having that kind of reaction.

My mom came in to check on me and found me in my state. She asked what in the world was wrong with me and I told her, "Apparently I'm crying over President Reagan leaving office." She sat down on the bed and said, "Well..." and patted me. I was getting peeved at myself for the hysterics and said bitterly, "I don't know why, you know I can't stand the old coot." All she said was, "I can see why...he's all you've ever really known in terms of a leader for the country." Just as suddenly as the tears had come, I stopped and looked up realizing she was right. And the fact was, I loved the man. He was a like a grandfather to me in some odd way, a comforting tone for most of my youth, someone I could count on and trust. I was entering adulthood and a set of ideals that didn't match up to his, but still, I respected the man and his service to my country and role in my life. I was shocked. Mom reminded me that as a young child, when Reagan was elected and Jimmy Carter was no longer president, I cried. I dismissed her claim. How in the world...why in the world...would I have reacted in such a way at that age?

Then I remembered. I was born in Georgia. As a child I was called a "Georgia peach" and still had an affiliation to the state, though we moved to Tennessee when I was four. Jimmy Carter came into office right before we moved, and he was from Georgia too. So my first real understanding and acknowledgment of a President was Carter. I said his name with the lack of the "r" sound, which was very funny to my family, so he was brought up alot in my house. In a weird way he was like a member of my extended family so when I realized he would no longer be a constant in my life, I was sad.

Why do these stories matter? Well, they don't to you. But they sure do to me because this election season has been a very important and emotional one for me. As I said, I spent most of my youth campaigning, voting, emphatically defending and supporting the Democratic Party. When I voted for Clinton/Gore I felt like my life had been changed forever. When Gore lost to Bush, I felt like I'd lost faith in my country. For eight years, I absolutely detested George Bush. Then...somehow (don't ask me exactly how, but I have my theories), I found myself leaning further and further away from the left and walking cautiously over to the right. My husband and is family are conservative and have been their entire lives (yes, that's made for funny family dinners for the past 18 years).

Lifelong friends of mine were shocked to find that I was not supporting Obama. And when I say shocked, I mean SHOCKED. I was the poster child for the Democratic Party, and he was the most ideal candidate we'd seen in 20 years and I was not on the bandwagon. I had my reasons for not supporting Obama. And though I had decided to vote Republican for the first time in my life, I waited to see how the nominations would play out. McCain got it and I was less than enthused, though relieved to some extent because he was moderate.I will quickly throw in here that I am very socially liberal...I am pro-choice, pro-gay marriage and non religious...so I am not the typical Republican in alot of ways.

But, McCain. I liked him. I respected him. Why? First and foremost, his service...his story. As I've gotten older, and strayed a bit from my formerly very leftist view of the military, I've come to be a sincere and humble advocate for our U.S. servicemen and women...our veterans. This too actually started in my youth and has only grown stronger with time. Though I differed with McCain on my views on certain issues, I was with him on overall principles of the role of government and his view of how it should be run and improved upon. That support was cemented by my true respect for his service and honor.

Long story short, the past few months have been heated...explaining my new views and reasons why I came to them, defending my choices and standing firm on my belief on who was the right and wrong choice to lead this country. I knew there was a slim chance McCain would come out the winner, but that did not deter me from giving him and Sarah Palin my full support.

The election is over now. What is done is done. I haven't decided yet how or if I can support Obama. I know I should. I realize I should, in some way, because of the historic nature of his election. But there are so many things I wholeheartedly disagree with him on. So, for now that support is not free flowing. For me, he will have to prove himself.

On election day, I was sitting in a local cafe that's been in operation for more than 60 years. It is filled daily with local businessmen and retirees, sitting at a communal table discussing politics. It was fitting to be there on that historic election day. As we sat waiting for our food, my father in law saw a gentleman he knew and motioned for him to come over. The older man, obviously well into his 80s, was dressed in a red, white and blue check shirt and had a "I voted" pin stuck to his lapel. My father in law introduced us and as they chatted, he mentioned casually that the man was a WWII veteran and German POW.

I felt my breath bait. I had met very few WWII vets in my life, though my dad was one, let alone a German POW. John McCain instantly flashed in my mind. I thanked the man for his service. He didn't hear me...the background noise from the cafe was too loud for him and his hearing aid. Though the reference to his service didn't go unnoticed, he didn't elaborate on it directly and continued just to chat with my father in law. When asked what he did in his retirement (he'd run a local candy factory for decades) he said he sold flags, and fished a business card out of his wallet for each of us. I felt a lump in my throat. He explained to us that he'd set up a little museum about WWII in part of the building ("Not about me though", he explained). I told him we'd be coming to buy a flag from him.

The conversation went to my husband being a doctor and his own health being really good despite his age. It was this though, that really moved me..."I've always had good health...been lucky...well, but for after the war. I was in bad shape then. But the VA helped me. I had stomach trouble, couldn't eat cuz of being starved so long. But they helped me and I got strong and fat...learned a good diet so I have good arteries."

The lump got bigger in my throat and he moved the subject to something completely different...away from the war. He mentioned in passing that he had contracted tuberculosis from the Russians when they saved him...just as an aside. I blinked in astonishment. He was so kind, so casual, and happy, speaking of these things as if he was just telling us about his grandkids (he has 11 and six great grand children).

As he was leaving, and I can't even recall now what might have made him tell us this...I think it was something about him not being on any medications at his age...he said, "But I was on alot of pills back when I was younger...after I got back...antidepressants, sleeping pills, anti-anxiety and stress pills. I was in pretty bad shape. I had to have them, they said. I got hooked and was on them for years. But I stopped. I haven't taken a pill since."

I turned my face to look the other way amd wipe a tear as I gripped David's knee. He knew what I was thinking and feeling since he and I share this deep admiration for our veterans, especially of the veterans of this war.

With that, he said goodbye, wished us well for "our man" (McCain) and went on his way. To know I shared a vote with that honorable man, made me the most proud I've ever been in my life to be an American...and there's been plenty of times I've been proud, for sure. 

This encounter has stuck with me. His service. His sacrifice. His contribution to this country over his 80 plus years, respected and productive member of our community. I told Dave I wanted to go see him lead the Veteran's Day parade next week in our hometown. It only solidified my support for John McCain.

As I sat here last night watching the results come in, I found tears coming down my cheeks again. Not for Obama (though Godspeed to him), but for knowing that was John McCain's last shot and he wouldn't get it. For a life lived in sacrifice and service to this country, I so strongly felt he deserved the office.

And I recalled the tears shed over Reagan...over Carter...over Gore, all the sense of loss and disappointment for different reasons. I add John McCain. I cried over the disappointment, for the fear, for the true respect for the man and for his dedication to us that I so felt should be repaid by giving him our support.

I'm sure, with time, I will shed tears for President Elect Obama.

For now, though, I'm coming to terms with the disappointment. And thinking of Mr. Haynes and Senator McCain.

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