Is this what an emotional wreck feels like?

I have been trying to put my feelings into words for days.  For weeks.  Maybe even for months.  I figured I may as well try to do it here.  Maybe seeing the words start to come out will make them flow more easily.  I don't know but as usual I'm up for giving it the ole college try.

Back in September, I hosted a "Girls Day In" party and invited about 60 people.  About 20 showed up and we had so many laughs.  My goal was to get us to really dig deep into our souls and think about the things that mean the most to us; whether those things were material or emotional.  The "exercises" that I had for us to do came out of a book called "Soul Pancake" and let me tell you...this book has done so much for me.  I can't even begin to tell you how it changed my way of thinking.  Thinking about myself to thinking about others to thinking about how my reactions really do affect those around me.  This isn't just a book to read.  It's a book of activities that pull from your depths, if you give it a chance.  I recommend it for every person.

Ok...that being said, I guess since that day I have felt such a sense of loss and I can not pinpoint exactly where that feeling is coming from.  And since that day, I have even "unfriended" one of them on Facebook.  But not for reasons that you would think.  I still love this person for every good quality that I did before and I have a special place in my heart for her.  BUT, her walls got too tall for me.  I got tired of climbing before I even started.  Her words were, "You like me for the way I am or you don't need to be in my life."  And her words rang in my heart for so long after that.  Actually, they sometimes still haunt my thoughts.  So I took myself out of the equation.  And when she asked me why, I told her that I see her walls getting higher and higher and she doesn't want to let anyone in and that isn't how my heart works.  That isn't the kind of person I want in my life.  

And maybe that wasn't fair of me.  I don't know.  Maybe I am being too harsh.  Maybe I should have had a "set down" and told her how I felt, before I just cut that tie.  But I didn't.  I did what she said she wants people to do.  Now.....was I trying to teach her a lesson or was I trying to teach myself one?  Because truth be told, I miss her.  I miss the friend that I had before Girls Day In.  Sometimes I think that party did more harm than it did good.  Don't get me wrong.  I heard some things that day that I will remember for the rest of my days, and I still laugh about them to this day.  And maybe what I am feeling is how I think of myself in years past.  I think we all have walls...to some extent.  But for a while, my walls were filled with righteousness and pride and nobody was going to treat me like I didn't want to be treated and nobody was going to tell me that I couldn't do this or couldn't do that.  I think I pushed someone away that, in total honesty, is...or was...going through something just like I did but at a much more extreme level.  So I have asked myself a thousand times.....was it fair for me to just cut her off like that?  

One of these days, she and I are going to have lunch and talk.  I mean really talk.  And I think we will be even better friends after that, than we were to start with.  

Another thing that has held onto my soul and rang in my ears from that day is "If it weren't for Shellie, I wouldn't be here today."  All I could think was "huh?"  I was literally dumbfounded and shocked that anyone would even say that.  I haven't been anything more than a friend.  I haven't done anything spectacular for this gal or her family other than be a friend.  I would love to say that I have done some amazing things for her but I can't.  I mean...what could I possibly have done to have anyone give me credit like that?  I have pondered a million times what it could mean and have come up with nothing.  Did she consider suicide ever?  Did she consider running away?  I quickly follow up with "No way, she wouldn't do that to her girls.  She loves them way too much."  Don't get me wrong, I am not trying to belittle her or anything like that.  I am honestly quite honored that she gives me so much credit.  And in all honesty, if I could do more for her than just be that friend, I would do it in a heartbeat.  I have told Quintin a hundred times (at least), "If we ever win the lottery, we are making sure they are well taken care of!"  But isn't that what any person would say about their friend?

Well, that one comment has made me think differently about people.  All people.  It has made me be a little more compassionate and a little more thoughtful of others.  It has made me work harder to be the person I really want to be.  That person that is buried deep inside and just clawing her way to get to the outside.

We have this new Deputy at work and I will be the first to admit that I was not looking forward to working with him.  He had a reputation (at least we thought he did) for being a real traffic nazi.  In the north part of our county, it seemed he was always on the radio running someone or something.  And I told him straight up that I didn't like him and was not going to go out of my way to get along with him. I figured he should know straight up, right?  I even went as far as going to the Sheriff and telling him what a huge mistake he had made hiring this guy!  Well, it wasn't long before he and I got to work together and got to goofing around and now I think he is a pretty darn cool man.  He is dedicated to his job...and not always on the radio as I had presumed he would be...and is dedicated to his wife.  It is a very refreshing thing to hear a man say his wife is "hot."  He smiles when he talks about her and you can really see how much he loves her.  And I think that is an amazing quality in a person.  He needs to spread a little of that sunshine my husbands way.  Ha!

Anyway, the reason I even mentioned this guy is because I was SO wrong about him.  I wasn't the least bit interested in giving him a chance.  And here I am...saying I was wrong.  SO SO wrong.  And for the record, I have told him (at least twenty times) how big of a mistake I made even thinking that and apologized.  He just laughs at me and tells me to get over it.  I don't ever want to be that person that doesn't give someone a chance.  And the sad thing is that I didn't even think I WAS that person!  That is not the way I was raised.  That is not the way my mom and dad would want me to be or act.

Well, I was able to get a couple things off my chest.  It's nice to do that.  Feels good.  

I have a family member that I love so very much that is in poor health and dying and each day it seems to work on my heart.  I don't know what's worse...losing someone in an instant or knowing ahead of time that you are going to have to say goodbye.  That's how we lost dad and mom.  Dad's death was quick and hurtful (for us) and mom's was drawn out and painful (again, for us).  Saying goodbye is one of the worst things to have to do.  I catch myself every day thinking of things I want to say to this person but can't.  And not because they don't want to know or because I just "can't," but because this person wants to live their life and not be brought down.  I can respect that.  So I'll just keep my thoughts to myself.

So many thoughts and emotions just roll around between my head and my heart and I can't seem to keep them "in check."  I guess I'll just keep doing what I'm doing until I feel like I can't hold my head above water anymore.  If that happens, I hope someone is there with a rope.  Pull me back up please.  At least back to where I can tread some water again.  

Sorry if this was such a downer.  Just needed to talk.  Thanks for being there to listen.  Until next time.....thanks for reading!

Watch my words

I had three days of refresher jail school this week and for those of you that just so happen to be on my Facebook, you should know by now that I don't always give "real" value to my words when I post a status update.  By that, I mean that just because I say it has been a really crappy day, it doesn't mean there weren't some things that didn't make me smile or laugh.  So, with that being said, I will tell you that I posted a status about being in jail school and would keep my remarks to myself because the instructor was on my Facebook. 

Apparently, more than one person took my status as me complaining about being there.  First of all, I complain anytime I have to go and sit at jail school.  If they want me to get excited about it, try booking Luke Bryan to come in and teach for a day.  Heck, I'd even take an hour!  I think it's just a knee-jerk reaction for me to dread it because school never really tripped my trigger.  I only agreed to go to school at all because it was a chance to hang out with all my friends.  Well, that and my parents forced me to go.  Yeah, there was that part.....

So a friend comments about how stupid it is that we have to go to jail school to learn things that we already know how to do.  This friend went on to say what a waste of tax dollars it was.  And that stung a little bit.  But I'm not blaming this friend at all.  I'm blaming myself because apparently my status was negative.  That isn't what I was really intending.  When I had posted the status, we were on a break from a speaker that I had never heard before and he wasn't really making much of an impact on me.  I knew we had close to an hour left with him and from what I had heard in the first hour, I didn't think I would make it through the second hour without drawing at least one hangman in the margin of my notebook.

Well, truth be told I had spoken too soon.  The second hour was much more informative and I actually enjoyed the speaker and the topic.  I guess I need to keep my fingers to myself until I know how the whole session is going to go.  So there's that.

Something else I'd like to share with you from my recent jail school.....

We all know there are good cops and there are bad cops and I seem to spend a lot of time defending a lot of them when I don't have to.  99.9% of them I don't even know and never will know.  I know a lot of cops but it's a very minute (my-noot?) number in comparison to the number of them I find myself defending.  But on the other hand, I hear a lot of people bad-mouth 99.9% of cops for personal reasons.  It's no surprise that about half of the people I call friends, don't like cops; and some of them go to extremes to point out anything they can to "prove" how cops are bad.  But if their homes get broken into, it's not the local crack head they want to come protect them now is it?

Anyway, I am getting off topic and I could go on that topic all day long.  Just know that if you are one of my cop bashing friends, I won't stop loving you.  But I probably won't go out of my way to spend a lot of time with you either.  I have cop blood in me, what can I say?  No apologies coming out of my mouth.

Back to what I was going to talk about.....

We saw a lot of video presentations about good cops, bad cops, about mistakes that cops make, and about mistakes that the public sometimes make.  Cops are human and they make mistakes.  Sometimes their mistakes are stupid and sometimes their mistakes are even innocent.  They're just like the rest of us!!!  Go figure!  Under no circumstances will any person ever make me believe that there are more bad cops than good cops.

We saw videos where cop cars ran into other cars; into poles; into people.  And the videos made some of us gasp.  Some people even cried.  I thought one gal was going to get sick.  As a dispatcher, I think this is good for us to see.  Not that we could ever fully prepare ourselves for anything emotional but we can kinda see WHY we need to be strong on the radio; why we need to be confident in our abilities; why we need to take a step back sometimes and just breathe.  

When you go to your work, do you have to even consider that one of your co-workers could die doing their job?  And if so, do you think about how you WOULD react compared to how you SHOULD react?  I do it every day.  Seriously.  Every day I get a lump in my throat thinking that my guys are out there "serving and protecting" a lot of people that wouldn't give two shits if they lived or died.  I want my guys going home after their shifts.  Every day and every night.  I want them going home to their wife and kids.

One of our speakers asked us to close our eyes and "just listen" as "Amazing Grace" was belted out on a trumpet.  He kept saying things like "Have you ever been to a cops funeral?" and then "Was the American flag draped over the casket?" and then, "Was there a long procession of law enforcement vehicles?"

What the hell man, I can't stop thinking about my dad's funeral now, thanks.  No, he didn't die in the line of fire.  He wasn't even a cop when he died.  But he loved that life and he was very, very good at it and his funeral was a mighty big one.  There were a lot of Sheriff's, Deputies, Policemen, Troopers, you name it...  And I don't remember much of it.  That's what I was told.  That law enforcement came from all over.  I have shut out most of dad's funeral from my mind.  I have to or I will again never get over it.

So after only a few seconds, my eyes were open.  I still listened but I couldn't close my eyes.  I couldn't have those images flashing around in my head all day.  And if anybody else in that room has been through that, I'm sure they felt the same way.  Amazing Grace makes me cry anyway, just like the National Anthem does.  So I have to make my mind go crazy with other things, just to get through it.  I don't like people to see me cry.  Plain and simple.

So about jail school.  We have to have so many hours every year to keep current on jail policies as well as any new training that we may need in our jobs.  Crime changes all the time and so do the procedures on how we handle the crimes.  We aren't going to school to learn things we already know.  Who does that?  Why is it acceptable for hair dressers and CPA's to have annual continuing education but not the civil servants?  Come on people, think!

The highlight of my week was when the little gal at Pizza Ranch asked one of my co-workers if he wanted the "Senior Discount or just the adult price?"  Thank God the Sheriff was there to hold me up, otherwise I would have been on the floor laughing.  Literally.  Oh the fun we have when we are let loose outside of town!!!

Thanks for reading...for what it's worth.  I just felt like "getting it out there."  Until next time.....my wish for you is that your basements are dry and your potty's are not overflowing with rain water.  Ick!  -_-

#supportmira <3 <3 <3

#supportmira

Well here I am.  It has taken me a while but I feel like I need to vent; to get things off my chest; to talk.  Sit down, have a cuppa coffee and listen, won't you?

The other day, I had spent the day in Omaha with Kathy, Jackie & Linda.  Jackie had a doctor's appointment and then we spent the day in the Old Market, browsing some shops, testing cupcakes, buying candy (and other things).  We laughed so much and had a memorable time.  When I got back to Linda's house, before heading home, I glanced at my mobile Facebook.  I saw a post from one of my friends that made me worry. 

Wanda:  "There are no words to describe the sick feeling in my stomach that I need to ask for prayers for a wonderful little 5 year old whose family is special to mine. Please pray for her and for her family. I can't begin to imagine how they are feeling right now. — feeling sad." 

 And I keep scrolling to find this...that instantaneously ripped my heart out.  I could literally feel pain in my gut as I read it.

Michelle:  "My heart is breaking as I wait for my Mira to come back to me....and it overflows with all of the love and prayers being sent our way!!! Thank you everyone from the bottom of my heart!!"

Oh my God, something is terribly wrong.  What happened to that sweet, beautiful little girl?  Of course, at a time like that you start to think of anything and everything.  "Did I miss a post about her being sick?  I hope there wasn't an accident."  I think people tend to think the worst in any situation.  Well, I do anyway.  And judging by how I felt at this news...that I didn't really even know what it was yet...I couldn't imagine how her poor mommy and daddy were feeling.  

I couldn't get to my car fast enough.  I got right on the phone to Kathy and was almost in tears telling her what I had read.  I begged her to ask anyone she could find.  Find out what was going on and call me back.  And that's when the car ride got longer and longer.

Then, for some silly reason, I felt guilty for being out having fun while this was going on.  Of course, it was going on all over the world but not with someone I knew!  I think that's human nature though, don't you?  The guilty thing?

I will admit right now that I do not know this little girl, Mira Beth.  I do happen to know her parents and her grandparents though.  I happen to know several family members of hers.  I have seen dozens upon dozens of pictures of little Mira...and her big sister Mikayla...as they have grown up over the past several years, via Facebook.  I am not very good with names and faces but I am about 99% sure I would know that sweet face if I met up with it.  She's one of a kind but at the same time, looks just like her mother.

Something was wrong with Mira and it was tugging at my heartstrings as if she was one of my own.  Something big was going on with this little princess and I was instantly praying.  Praying for her health; her recovery; her parents; her sister; her grandparents; her doctors.  If there was something to pray about, I was doing it.

I had a hard time sleeping that night.  My body isn't real sure when it's supposed to sleep anymore, thanks to some dolt that can't work a schedule.  So again, I did a lot of reading on Facebook; I did a lot of praying; and I shed several tears.  I can not explain this sense of urgency in my heart for this family.  They are quite an amazing family too.  

Mommy and daddy that look just like they did in high school (lucky).  Their sense of humor is over the top funny on any day that ends in "y."  Mitch will poke fun at Michelle on Facebook and she comes right back at him fast and fierce.  They could be a sitcom!  They live for their kids and it shows in everything they do.  I do have to say that when I think of that "perfect" or "ideal" family, they are right there in the lead.  

So it seems Mira had a mass at the base of her skull that was pressing on her spinal cord.  That is what I was told.  And that's pretty much all I know outside of the fact that she was life-flighted to the University of Iowa Hospital for emergency surgery that took several hours.  I also know that she wiggled her toes afterward.  HUGE plus right there.  This happened on Tuesday and here it is Saturday and she still isn't awake. Although I'm pretty sure that's how they need it to be. 

She is hooked up to an IV and a ventilator and although I know in my heart that she is going to be okay, it is very startling to see her just laying there like that.  Again, I can't imagine what her family is going through.  I really am not trying to make this about me.  I am just an outsider looking in.  Looking in and observing.  Observing and praying.  Constantly praying.

A picture was posted of little Mira with an Iowa Hawkeyes blanket over her which I thought was absolutely adorable considering this family is die-hard Nebraska fans.  Hey, not everyone is perfect, right???  Hahaha juuuuust kidding (or am I?).

So that is that.  That is all I know.  I went out and got some things for the family.  Nothing huge.  Nothing worth a million dollars.  Nothing that is going to change anything.  But with each item that I sent to them, I also packed a million prayers with it.  I can't get this little girl out of my head.  Can't get the whole family out of my head.  And it is killing me that I can't do something more.  

It's just one of those situations where nothing is more important than your prayer.

You don't have to know someone to like them.
You don't have to know someone to care about them.
You don't have to know someone to love them.
And you don't have to know someone to pray for them.

Please take a moment right now and say a little prayer for Mira and her family; and her doctors and nurses.  That's all it takes is a moment and a little prayer.

Until next time...thanks for reading.  And praying.  Definitely thanks for praying!  I will be over here.  On my side of the "coffee" table, reading updates and saying my prayers.

Proud to be an American!

Maybe when Kathy and I plan our next spontaneous road trip, we need to make sure we get plenty of sleep the night before. Not only for our sake but for the sake of anyone and everyone we meet. While walking around the town of New Market on July 4^th, she and I decided that on the next morning we would get up early and head northbound to see this State Park that we have a photo showing us being at when we were very little. I was probably two.

So we didn't get home until late. I guess we forgot that we would have a long drive home. Me more than she though. By the time I got home, I was wide awake and had a hard time going to sleep and then in the wee morning hours was awakened by my dog barking out my bedroom window. Barking at the thunder that was headed our way. And good morning to me. An hour and a half before my alarm was supposed to go off.

Thirty minutes was about all I could take of tossing and turning before I decided I better get in the shower before the lightning started and I would get electrocuted in the nude. There isn't an EMT on this earth that will want to come on that call, I assure you.

After my shower, I got my bag packed and sat down for some tv and just when I got comfortable, the skies opened up, shooting lightning and dropping barrels of rain. So guess what? NO tv! * sigh * Just my luck! If this was a preview of what was in store for our day, it was going to be interesting, to say the least!

So Kathy and Jackie pick me up and we head north out of Fontanelle. We were gabbing away about how much fun we had at the fireworks show and as we near the little spot called Canby, I see a dog running toward the road. Beautiful golden retriever I believe. I say, “Whoa dog.” Okay I didn't scream it but I said it loud enough for Kathy to understand that there was a dog getting ready to run under her tires. But no...she keeps on going at whatever speed she had been going. So I feel the urgent need to say a little louder...okay this time was a yell...”There's a dog!” Finally she slammed on the brakes and the dog was safe and we come to the stop sign...

And we sit there. And laugh. And laugh. And we laughed so hard we couldn't breathe. And that made us laugh even harder. You are probably wondering what was so funny about that so I will tell you. The other day we were sitting at a four-way stop sign in Bedford and as I let off the brake to go forward, a truck is approaching from the south...on Kathy's side. She says, “truck.” I start to press on the gas pedal to cross the intersection and she says louder, “Truck.” I keep going across the intersection, only to hear Kathy yell “TRUCK!!!” And I answer just as loud, “It's a four-way stop!”

Pretty sure the guy in the truck thought Kathy was an insane passenger. Maybe she was. Haha. We laughed for a long time about that one. I mean even today we are still laughing about it. So when I had to scream...I mean yell, “DOG,” it just made us start laughing all over again. I still am not sure if she thought me saying “Whoa dog” was me talking to her. For the record, I have never referred to my siblings as “dog.”

Anyway, on the way to destination, we picked up our friend Joan. She is always cooped up in the hospital taking care of her son so we thought she would like a chance to relax and be with the girls. I don't know if she knew what she was getting herself into but she DID join us on the hell trip to Storm Lake and the cockroach motel so maybe she did know what she was getting into. ;-)

She even wore her patriotic boa!  I was so bummed I didn't wear my hot pink pants and rainbow leg warmers!!

We headed north and about a quarter of the way to destination, I fell asleep. Yes I did. Not Jackie. Me. And as far as I know...nobody took a picture of me. Score. I even tried to talk Jackie into taking a nap with me but she wasn't having it. Oh well! Nice 10-15 minute power nap for me.

On the Atlas, I saw that our exit was just a few miles short of the Minnesota line so we decided to cross over so Jackie could say she has been to another state.

So back to Iowa we went. Exited at 203 and headed west. We first came to the town of Hanlontown, where we tried to get the attention of a man push mowing his yard. To no avail, we went on down the street. An older gentleman on a rider told me that in the next town is a little store on the south side of the road. To Fertile we went. Yes, you read that right. Fertile.

False advertisement people. It isn't a grocery at all. It's a convenience store. Duh. But we loaded up on picnic items and headed out. We couldn't wait to get to this park and see this tower that we took that picture on so many years ago. As we entered the park, it was beautiful. Tree filled lane and curvy. I should have been taking more pictures but I was so excited!

We pull up to the observation area and ask this young couple where the trail was. The girl looks into the car and points behind us and says, “Up that trail. And it's up all the way.” Joan and I are pretty sure she saw four fat girls and thought we weren't up for the challenge. Boy was she wrong! What we weren't paying attention to was that the boy was spraying the girl heavily with bug spray. We were dumb dumb dumb girls not paying attention to that!

The kids take off up the trail and shortly after, we followed. They were gone in seconds. As we start ascending the rock trail, we get viciously attacked by swarm after swarm of mosquitoes. I guess all those flooded fields should have been a red flag but our excitement took over our common sense.

I got to the clearing first and was walking across a grassy lane when I saw something out of the corner of my eye. It startled me at first and I jerked around, to see something jump up (or so I thought at the time) out of the grass. And I screamed. Loud. Joan was right behind me and Kathy and Jackie were just coming to the top of the trail. When I screamed, I realized it was a pheasant that had startled me and my scream startled about 14 other pheasants. They all came flying out and I was sure I was going to piss myself. If you know me, you know birds scare the crap out of me anyway.

Joan laughed so hard at me and Jackie wanted to know what that noise was. Me screaming was the noise!!! So now we see the observation tower and it is beautiful!

For the record, Jackie was not about to walk up to the top. She was NOT having it.

By the time we got to the top of the tower, we were all covered in mosquito bites. I mean covered. I think those little buggers knew we were new, fresh meat and a lot of meat, at that! Just writing about it makes me itch!

Going down the hill was much better. Jackie and I hauled a$$ down the hill with arms swinging around our heads to try to keep the blood suckers away. We were hitting each other, killing them, before getting into the car so as not to take any more with us than we had to. And it was just like that the whole way through the park. Welcome to West Nile Isle folks. We will probably never go back so I'm glad we got to that tower!

Time to head back south. We had dinner at my favorite place in the world, OL FROYO and Kathy says to me, “You are going to have to show me how to get out of here.” Now, I must say that I knew she meant she wasn't sure how to get back to the interstate and was hoping I could get us back to Des Moines a different way. Joan on the other hand, didn't know what she meant. She looked at Kathy with the most confusing look on her face and finally said, “Can't you just scoot forward?” It's a good thing I peed before we ate our delectable dinner because I was almost on the floor laughing for real. Poor Joan thought she didn't know how to get off the little couch she was sitting on! Afterward, Joan and I walked across the street to Caseys. Kathy and Jackie had went to the bathroom and she was going to need gas in her car so we thought we would just meet them. Joan says to me, “Well why don't we make them walk over with us?” I have to say my ribs were hurting when I had to remind her that it was going to suck getting the gas in the car from across the street!

I am about to throw my friend Joan, under the bus here but it is too funny not to share. This next paragraph is going to prove to all of you that our road trips are the funnest in the land!

Joan gets out of the car at the hospital and I get out of the backseat (to get in the front seat) and we were joking about the hospital staff letting her back on the floor with all those welts on her arms and face and all I said was, “If we need to be checked for West Nile, let us know and we will turn around and come back.” To this she started laughing, bent over and a puddle appeared between her legs. She had done peed right down her leg. And that got all of us laughing all over again. Poor poor Joan! But don't worry! We didn't make her walk back to the Ronald McDonald house with pissy pants! We gave her a ride over there so she could get cleaned up. Now...I couldn't help her out with the issue of walking into that building with wet pants. But she said that was the funnest time of her life. And I think it rates right up there as one of mine too!

Maybe you should come with us sometime? Doesn't it sound like fun?

We had the most beautiful day today and I have got to spend three fantastic days with my sister and two with my niece, whom by the way said today that she had a blast! I couldn't have asked for a better holiday weekend to be honest. It was perfect. To those of you that I was blessed enough to get to see, you made my holiday that much better. Thank you for your friendship.

Until next time, I hope you enjoyed our little day trip and thank you for reading!!

These are just some extra photos that I had taken of a cool looking casino that we passed on the interstate.

All because two people fell in love

My nephew got married this weekend and what a beautiful wedding it was. Knowing the bride-to-be and her family, I knew it was going to be spectacular anyway. They always put on a great show!

The wedding was held at the Round Barn at the Taylor County Historical Museum and it was fantastic! I had never been in the round barn before so I couldn't stop looking around.

The weather was windy. I mean really windy! At one point in the service, the wind blew so hard, I was sure a tornado was within earshot. But everything was fine and the gorgeous evening turned into a fun night.

As we walked up the sidewalk to the barn, there was a sign. “You are my sunshine” painted on, what looked to be, old boards. A little further up and we came to “My only sunshine.” And so it followed suit all the way up to the barn, “You make me happy,” “When skies are gray,” “You'll never know dear,” “How much I love you,” “Please don't take,” “My sunshine away!” The signs weaved side-to-side and it was very inviting. So see, I was smiling before I ever got inside!

At the door, I met up with the groom-to-be, Jordan. Gave him a huge hug and told him how excited I was that he was about to be a married man. I could just feel the excitement happening in his life. Of course he told me he was excited too and the smile on his face was just too cute!

So we get inside the barn...out of the wind...and I immediately start looking for windows and any type of circulation. And I don't see anything substantial at first. As we are ushered by some of the best and most handsome guys around (Alex, Tyler & Zach), I tell Tyler he needs to put me somewhere that I won't melt because I am going through menopause and am hot. Okay, I lied. I am not going through menopause...that I know of. But I still was hot and this girl doesn't sweat very pretty, okay???

It's okay though because not only did we walk past those guests already seated, but we walked past the area where the immediate family was to sit and right out another barn door to a grassy area of beautifully covered chairs. In the wind. It was like I had won the lottery. For more reasons than that.

We just happen to be sitting right directly behind the pastor and directly facing the bride and groom. We couldn't have paid for better seating actually. As we sat there talking, waiting for the ceremony to start, Lindsay made a point that I am sure was dead on. “I bet the Weed family wasn't the backdrop that Bailey had planned on when she was envisioning her wedding day.” True that. I'll bet she was right!

Jordan escorted the mothers (Ann, Laurie & Tammy) to their chairs and for a split second, thought he had to go back for more. Maybe he thought he needed to walk Bailey down the aisle too? He quickly changed his mind (I wondered if someone stopped him?) and stayed still.

The processional starts and the jr. bridesmaids (Emilee, Kennedy, & Kelly) walk around looking so cute in their dresses and the jr. groomsman (Cameron) all shined up in his fancy clothes. That little guy is cute on his dirtiest day anyway! Next, the bridesmaids (Mally, Abigail & Ashley) get escorted out. They each looked so gorgeous in their dresses and the groomsmen (Ryan, Andrew & Ryley) all looked so handsome.

The matron-of-honor (Morgan) and the best man (Bradyn), brother and sister, were next to come around. I think it was then that it hit me. These kids are all grown up! I can remember each of them as babies; watching them grow up. How is it that all these kids are growing older yet here I am, the same age??? ;-)

The little ring bearer (Jackson), who was a hit with everyone simply because he is so cute and such a well-behaved little guy, did perfectly! And I believe...but I could have gotten some of these out of line...that the glitter grandma's were next. Four grandmother's throwing glitter on the floor (or in someone's hair) in front of them as they walked around to their seats. That was cute. Never seen that done before!

Next comes the bride. And I would be selling her short to say she looked stunning. I don't know a better word though. Standing still, she could have passed for one of those china dolls. Buuuuut there wasn't much standing still for Miss Bailey. And that's ok! She had the jitters, and who doesn't at that point? Her dress was so gorgeous. I should have taken pictures, I know. But I wanted to enjoy the evening. Besides, there was a photographer for that! And a damn good one...okay two...at that!

Pastor Tim Maxa welcomed everyone and gave the wedding message. Then they played “I can't help falling in love with you.”

Okay, this is where it gets touchy for me. Music always makes me emotional. I don't care where it's at or what the reason. I cry at the Star Spangled Banner most of the time. I would say the song was about three beats in and Bailey started to cry. That kinda made me panic a little bit because I knew if I looked at her again during this song, I would be crying as well.

So, I pan to the left of the bride and groom. Grandpa Larry is wiping his eyes Grandma Karen is wiping her eyes. I could not see the mother of the bride but I bet she was doing the same thing. What am I going to do? Oh look, some well-wishes are already starting to fall out of my eyes! I look at Morgan, only to find her crying as well. It just so happens that to my right, playing in the grass are three beautiful children. And they loved saying hi to Morgan (she is an aunt to two of them) during the ceremony. Those kids saved me! Phew!!!

As Jordan was saying his vows to Bailey and slipping her ring on her finger, she couldn't keep her tears at bay. I wondered at that point how she was ever going to get through her own vows. But she did. And she did a beautiful job. Her voice didn't waver (much) like mine did when I said my vows, but there was so much emotion in her voice that you knew this was her best day of her life so far.

After some praying and the introduction of Mr. and Mrs. Jordan Jenkins, the wedding party made their way to the upstairs area so all us guests could linger out. It was then that I saw the top of the barn had no ceiling in it. There were some boards but no actual ceiling. And the view was spectacular, to say the least. That barn will be enough for me to come back for a visit. I had never been inside before. Truly amazing!

We were given sprinkles to throw on the wedding party as they left the barn but I saved mine back. I have a special purpose for mine. It was really pretty to see all of those on the ground though. That was a very neat idea.

The wedding reception was so fun! It was held at the fairgrounds. They had a dessert bar with enough sugar to make the moon high. It was such a neat idea!! “Oh snap” photography booth where we all put on costumes and had our pictures taken. Cindy, Kathy, Lindsay, Jackie and myself all got up there and embarrassed ourselves! And it was at the request of Cindy of all people, who never wants to do stuff like that! Senility I wonder??? hehehe

We had a great time helping Jordan and Bailey celebrate their future. I'm glad I was able to go. I got to connect with friends that I hadn't seen in years (literally) and just spend a relaxing night enjoying all the festivities.

To Doug & Tammy Thompson, Kenny & Ann Weed, and Pat & Laurie Jenkins...you all did an amazing job with this wedding and reception. Maybe you should all go into the business? No stress, right?

To Jordan and Bailey Jenkins...thank you for allowing me to share in your special day. It was truly a magical and magnificent day. I can not wait to see the pictures (I hope that photographer knows how to blur big purple blobs!).

Bailey is a wonderful addition to our family and I can't wait to show her just how crazy her “new aunt” can be! I hope I don't embarrass her too much!!! -_-

Until next time..I hope all my readers enjoyed this day with me. And thanks for reading!

Your Tour of Duty has Ended

Today (Thursday), I attended the funeral of a man that I have admired for as long as I can remember. Since the moment I walked out of that church, I have been putting words together in the back of my head. I feel I need to explain to you how much this man means to me; how much of an icon he truly is, in my book.

His name is David Dudley. I will refer to him as both Dave and David because I called him both. I will never forget this man as long as I live. I believe it takes one of two things to make a life-long impression on a person. Either a shiny heart or a dark heart.

Rev. Herbert Vestal spoke at David's funeral. Not only reading the obituary but also gave the sermon. While giving the sermon, he spoke about stories that Dave had told him. He told things that he and David had discussed. He made us laugh and he made us cry. One thing that was constant throughout his whole speech was me shaking my head. Either because I could see Dave doing the things he said or I could hear him telling the story. But mostly, it was because all the wonderful and amazing qualities that the Reverend spoke about Dave. I knew he was right on about every one of them.

David and his fantastically gorgeous wife Susan, came to Bedford in 1970, or somewhere around that time. They had three absolutely wonderful kids. And I don't mean they turned out wonderful. I mean they were truly wonderful. I do not have one bad memory of David, Susan, Amy, Brian or Mark. Not one. That's pretty good for kids because we all know kids can be such turds sometimes. Not these kids though. And I'm not trying to make them out to sound like they were perfect and walked on water or anything. There's no doubt in my mind that there are stories...just waiting to be told!! I just remember they were polite and respectful of others. Maybe Dave and Susan should have been holding parenting classes, I don't know.

They sure knew something that most others didn't know. That is a given.

I remember time after time after time, playing with Amy. At her house or at mine. I was always jealous because she had red hair and I would ask my mom why I couldn't have red hair too!

My most vivid memory is when their house caught on fire. They lived in a big beautiful home on Court street and in the late hours of the night, the home caught on fire. It was completely destroyed. Of course, being in a small town, the fire whistle blew (that was right across the street from the jail house) and everybody went looking to see the excitement. And they did. There were people everywhere. I'm not sure what year it happened but I remember being across the street, in my nightgown, and watching their house burn down. It upset me so much because I didn't know what was going to happen to my friend now. Where was she going to live? WHERE WAS AMY GOING TO LIVE NOW?

I'm sure my distress was coming from my own experience of a house fire and all my brothers and sisters being “farmed out” to the neighbors. Of course I wasn't old enough to understand that my friend was going through distress of her own.,,and rightly. All I knew was that my heart hurt because Amy didn't have her bed anymore. I didn't know where she was going to sleep. Funny how that seems so 'big” to such a little girl. I have always carried that feeling with me.

So it is a damn shame that I never kept in touch with the Dudley family after they moved away. I should have been a better friend and wrote letters, made phone calls, even asked my parents to take me to visit them. But I guess as kids, we don't think about that. I'm not sure what we thought about things like that. Maybe “They will come back. This is their home.” or “I will never see my friend again.”

Many times, Dave would stop into the Sheriff's Office when he was working in the area and several of those times, I was lucky enough to be around. Ya know, thinking back, EVERY memory I have of David, he was wearing his Trooper uniform. I cannot recollect him wearing anything else. Watching the video presentation today at the church, there were so many pictures of him in his t-shirts and jeans but I was most comfortable with him in Brown. THAT was the David Dudley that stuck in my heart. He may well have been the reason I always thought State Troopers were the best!

A few years ago, I was at the Iowa Law Enforcement Academy for some training and our instructor mentioned his name and my ears must have perked up because she picked up on it. Next thing I know, she is calling him on her cell phone, telling him she has another Weed in her class and to give her a call. Right in the middle of our class!!!!!

That same day we were out on a “field trip” and Dave returned her call. She handed me the phone and I felt like I had won the lottery. I told everyone I knew. She passed his number along to me and I told him I would be seeing him. Well I did see him. That next Christmas. I took a platter of cookies to him and Susan and we had an amazing visit. I didn't want to leave but I didn't want to be rude and say “Hey, I'm spending the night!” Ha!

A couple of other times I had stopped by the house but they weren't there. So recently, Kathy and I were in town and we decided to go see them. We didn't do the polite thing like call to see if they were home; if they wanted company. Nope, we just pulled into the driveway. I made Kathy go to the door by herself to see if they would know who she is...and maybe because I wasn't sure it was the right house. (I told Kathy if it wasn't one of them that answered the door, I was taking off without her!) Of course Susan answered the door and she knew immediately who Kathy was. Phew! Shut the car off!

We stayed for hours. And we both could have stayed for several more hours. Especially after they told us that the doctor's had given Dave six months. I can still hear Susan telling us. Whatever she said after that though...well I don't really know. What I DO remember is them both perking up and telling us all the things they had planned for the next few months. All I could do was kick myself in my own ass for not visiting more; for not looking them up sooner; for not being the friend I wanted to be to them.

The Reverend, when he spoke, said some pretty astounding things about Dave. Things that I guess I never really thought about until they were said out loud. Things that made me want to be a better person.

“When you visited with David, he made you feel like you were his world. Nobody mattered but you.”

And that made me think hard and fast. It goes for Susan as well. ANY TIME I have ever spoken to David and Susan, the conversation was always directed around me. Around my life. Around my world. And eventually they got to themselves. I don't know two other people in my life that can take something as earth-shattering as “...six months to live,” and make it sound like they are about to embark on the biggest and most interesting journey of their lives. But that's what they did. Everything about them is positive and light to me. You can't help but have a shiny heart after just being in the same room as those two.

Another thing that the Reverend mentioned about Dave was “He never had an unkind word to say about anyone.” Now, that being said...keep in mind he was in law enforcement. I'm sure there were one or two people that made him cuss. But, the Dave I know and remember and love, always had something good to say. Even when it came to someone he had to “detain.” He could find sunshine in the darkest of someone's hours.

Even as I sat in that church, I could feel Dave's presence. Telling us all to stop that crying and laughing along with all the ribs that he got. Mr. Dudley you made such an impression on me at such an early age and in the past few years, renewed that impression; filled with love and grace and gratitude and God and all that is good. Until the day I take my last breath, you will be one that is forever with me. I am honored to have known you and to have loved you.

I, like the good Reverend, will not say goodbye to you dear friend. I will say SO LONG. Because we will meet again.

I'm not quite sure of the year the Dudley's left Bedford but they certainly made an impression. A huge one. A positive one. My life would not be the same without this family. Even though I didn't see them for years. Again, I just had to say that a lot of things that Dave was and stood for, are a lot of things I want to see in myself.

Thank you dear friend. You will never ever be forgotten, and every time I hear your name, I will smile and say “He is my friend!” And every time I think about you, I will remember my childhood and all the wonderful things it held for me.

Your tour of duty has ended friend.  You are home now.  Where you are supposed to be.

Trying to get past the past

Before I unload, I would like to say a couple of things.  

The first being that I am considering taking a hiatus from blogging.  I feel like the things I am writing about are no longer funny, no longer substantial to anything, and no longer meaningful.  Over the course of a day, I think of over a hundred things (easily) that I could blog about.  I rarely blog about any of those things though because when I try to draw it out in my mind, it fizzles. 

Maybe it's just writer's block.  Or maybe it's because I bore myself.  Or maybe it's because nothing is going on with me these days.  For whatever reason, I may take a break.  It could be long or it could be short.  And I may not even take a break.  Heck, I may stop altogether!  As we all know, nobody knows what my next move is going to be.  Sometimes not even me.

Secondly, I would like to say that what I am writing about tonight is very sensitive to me.  I am going to offend some people but I will not use names. I could though because this is my space to do whatever the hell I want to do.  But I'm not.  I don't feel the need to.  I don't think that I need to put the spotlight on anybody here.  I just feel the need to get something off my chest.  I expect my Facebook to get a little lighter after this and if it doesn't, I will make it lighter myself.

Here goes.

I have told many stories of my life growing up.  Well, me or Princess Amelia have told the stories.  Maybe she needs to come back and blog for a while so I can have a break.  (What do you think?)  I have to say that I had the most fantastic and amazing childhood anybody could have.  I do not have ANY regrets about how I was raised or where I was raised and definitely not by who raised me.  

I am so blessed to have had the most amazing parents on the face of the planet.  And if you can say the same thing, I am happy for you.  My parents didn't always approve of my choices.  Matter of fact, the older I got, the more disapproval I got.  My parents didn't always like my friends or my husbands, or my grades or the way I handled money; but they always loved me.  

They may have gotten angry with me, but they never......for one second......didn't love me.  And they loved my brothers and sisters the same way.  They didn't always approve of whatever they had gotten themselves into but they always....ALWAYS...loved them. 

On May 23, 2012, I wrote a blog about my sister Marla.  I wrote about how guilty I always feel that I don't have a memory of her.  About how her death occurred.  About how my parents each had their own set of situations about their guilt of her death and how they carried it with them.  (My tears are already falling steadily and I haven't even gotten to MY point yet!) If you haven't read that blog yet, go read it.  It is titled "Marla."  

Moving on to the future a little bit, something that maybe people don't think about unless you have lived in a situation like it.  If I had a dollar for every time someone has said to me "I remember your dad.  He put me in jail for (insert whatever crime here)."  or someone casually saying "Your dad was a good man but he gave me a ticket for (insert whatever offense here) and I didn't really deserve it because it wasn't even my fault."  Well.....if I had a dollar for every one of those times, I would have a heck of a lot of dollars.  And I mean a lot.  

I suppose that just comes with the "territory" of being a child of a cop, huh? My dad retired from law enforcement in 1987.  That was 27 years ago. TWENTY SEVEN YEARS AGO.  
Now...my dad has been gone since 1996.  That is 18 years ago.  EIGHTEEN.
If you had a problem with how my dad handled something while he was in office, maybe you should have told him when he was in office.  Or even after he was out.  Hell, he would have listened to your side before telling you what you are about to hear here.

I almost feel bad for even bringing this stuff up.  Almost.

When my dad was the Sheriff, the world was a different place.  Things were handled differently.  And here's a news flash:  I was a child.  I was a child the whole entire time my dad was in law enforcement.  He didn't let me make one damn decision about what he did, who he did it with, or why he did it.  He didn't ask my opinion and he didn't really care.  And I'm okay with that because like I said, I WAS A CHILD!

Moving on to current day events.  I have had some people "approach" me about how my dad handled his prisoners, his friends, and his business.  And now I am sick and tired of it.  A person can only take so much.  I have talked with my trusty sisters about this and they both know how people can be sometimes when it comes to this situation.  

So.....one day I was at Cindy's house and I was telling her a story about a recent conversation I had had in regards to what I have been talking about and she went to her closet and pulled out a box.  It was full of different things.  Keepsakes from years gone by, that our parents wanted to keep.  Papers regarding all sorts of things.  Marriage papers, divorce papers, death notices, funeral bills, pins of different natures.  I mean this box was one of the neatest things I have seen in my life.  So many stories were in this box.  A lot we know and for every one we do know, there are at least five we don't know.  

I have a point here, I promise.

Among these treasures, there was a little notebook.  And inside that notebook my dad had wrote down every man, woman, and child that helped, day after day, fix and remodel our home after it caught on fire.  After our sister died in that fire.    After all of us had to be "farmed out" to other people's homes to live because ours was no longer livable.  

Inside that book were those names.  And each day my dad noted who was there and how many hours they worked.  And let me tell you that there were many, many people that gave up most everything they had, to help us.  And I know, in my heart....just because I know how I am.....that my parents knew there would never be a way to pay those people back.  There would never be enough money; never enough thank you's; never enough dinners or baked goods; never enough days in the year; to say how thankful and blessed we truly were.  

So for those of you that want to throw in my face how "terrible" of a Sheriff my dad was....well you can take a long walk off a short plank.  I know what kind of a man my dad was and you don't deserve to even have a thought of him in your mind.  You do not deserve the memory of him.

I had a person let loose on me recently because my dad let a family member of theirs, eat at our dining room table when he was in jail (probably 30 years ago!!!).  I know why this person was in jail but I don't even care. You know why?  

Because that family member's name is listed in that little notebook; amost EVERY DAY until the house was completed.  Not livable.  Completed.  See, that person could have just stopped by once in a while and picked up a hammer for a few minutes and left.  But that isn't what happened.  That person came over every single day.  Days off, after work, holidays.  It didn't matter.  They came everyday and helped our family so that we could grieve and we could cope.  They didn't stop working until the sun went down.  

So the next time you want to beat me down because my dad let prisoners come to our diningroom table to eat, you just might want to take into consideration that even if your name isn't in that book...or a family member's name isn't in that book...maybe, just maybe, he was trying to show some compassion.  Because that is what we got by the bucket fulls after one of the most horrific times in our lives.  

You can like this or you can hate but I am sick and tired of carrying this around with me.  I honor my mother and father every day of my life and I try to live my life according to what my parents taught me.  If you don't like it, step off.  I refuse to be your little punching bag because your life wasn't how you wanted it to be.  That. Is. Not. My. Fault.  Bitch.