Summer Memories

This Summer my children are attending a plethora of Summer day camps: art, dance, basketball, baseball, music, VBS and cheerleading. I feel that these activities are enriching for my children--and they give us some measure of structure and excitement in our day. Most of these camps are only 2-3 hours each morning--still allowing for 10-11 hours of 'unstructured' family time. Although some Moms balk at our schedule, this works for our family.

The children are able to 'sleep in' (since that means 7am for them), ease into their morning and still make it to a 9 or 10 am start time.

Today I started thinking about how my children's Summers compare to mine growing up. Both of my parents worked, but I was blessed to live in very close proximity to several members of my Mom's family. My aunt and uncle lived next door, my great aunt and uncle lived next door to her and my grandmama and grandaddy lived behind us.

My Summer days were spent exploring--picking honeysuckles, blackberries and figs. We scarcely wore shoes all Summer, chased lightning bugs, played hide and seek at dusk. We did a lot of swimming...and watched a lot of television.

Now that my children are beyond their toddlerhood and into true childhood, I am mindful that these are the days they will remember. I want my children to experience some of the simple joys from my past. When we moved into this house two years ago, it was largely for the yard--and the room this lot gave our children to run and explore and grow up loving the outdoors the way my husband and I did. We are currently contemplating planting blackberries, blueberries and honeysuckles in our backyard...just to bring a little bit of Alabama into my children's childhood.

I am not trying to recreate my childhood, per se, but I would love a tangible way to bring some of my history into my children's young lives.

Wayback Wednesday: Senior Year

I am not normally much of a meme girl, but coming up with material for these Wayback Wednesday posts is more difficult than I thought! When I saw this making rounds on facebook it looked like a great framework for a walk down memory lane.

So, back to Pacelli High School in Columbus, Ga we go...
Senior Year 1992

1. Did you date someone from your school?
No, but to this day I count my high school boyfriend as a huge blessing. We were truly best friends first. He was a precious young man who loved Jesus and honored me. Although it was clear he was not who God had planned for my life partner, God truly used him to set an amazing precedent for future relationships. I am thrilled to know he has a wonderful wife and is raising three little girls.

2. Did you car pool to school?
Yes. I drove a younger girl to school for gas money.

3. What kind of car did you have?
A four-door light blue 1987 Honda Accord.

4. It's Friday night...where were you?
I was a cheerleader, so if there was a football or basketball game I was there. Otherwise, I was roaming around town up to all manner of craziness. I was a goody-goody, so I was not drinking or smoking....but there was much mischief to be found nonetheless. We rolled houses, climbed water towers and fire towers, played "Navy Seals" on the roof of St. Thomas Church, played hide and seek in our cars around town. I cringe at the thought of some of the reckless things we did in the name of 'good clean fun.'

5. What kind of job did you have in high school?
After school babysitter for two sweet girls--whose mother was a HUGE ministry to me through some very turbulent times.

6. Were you a party animal?
No

7. Were you considered a flirt?
Yes. I had a very playful, friendly personality.

8. Were you in band, orchestra, or choir?
Church choir...but honestly, it was for the fun Summer trips--not because I am a gifted singer.

9. Were you a nerd?
It depends on your definition. I was in Honors classes, but did not apply myself and, therefore, made lower grades than most of my peers.

10. Did you get suspended or expelled?
No.

11. Can you sing the fight song?
Believe it or not, this old cheerleader has blanked out...I think I have sang the Bama one too many times since then!

12. Where did you sit during lunch?
We had off campus priviledges for lunch, so my favorites were Wendy's, Burger King, and Western Sizzlin'

13. If you could go back and do it again, would you?
No. I had a wonderful experience, but I love life as a grown up so much more than teenaged angst. (I think staying involved in youth ministry has given me my fill.)

14. Did you have fun at Prom?
Yes. My date was a good friend who, ironically, was the stepson of my Mom's high school prom date!

15. Do you still talk to the person you went to Prom with?
We just reconnected on facebook recently.

16. Are you planning on going to you next reunion?
Yes. Interestingly we haven't had one yet, so our 20th will be our first.

17. Do you still talk to people from school?
Yes....some of my best friends from high school are still important parts of my life. I have reconnected with many others recently thanks to facebook!

Faithfulness

As we were singing in church this morning, I had a flashback to my release from the hospital in June 2006. Having been in the hospital for over 2 months, I felt disconnected from the outside world that had changed seasons while I was flat on my back, climate controlled and under UV lighting, gestating babies.

I was discharged on a Friday. As soon as I was released, my husband rolled me down to the NICU to see our babies. (I had been on contact isolation for 4 days due to MRSA pneumonia and, therefore, unable to visit with them.) My health was still quite fragile--and I exhausted quickly, so after a visit, he drove me the 50 miles to our home. I was able to sleep in our bed for the first time in 9 1/2 weeks and see the nursery which had been mid-renovation when I first went into the hospital. The following morning, itching to see our babies, we returned to Atlanta to be close to the NICU for our scheduled visitation times.

After visitation, he set about tenderly caring for me by taking me to a spa for a massage and much needed facial waxing (my request, not an insulting hint from him). We spent the night in a hotel and the following morning we went to the old Harris Teeter that temporarily housed Buckhead Church. It was a priority. After the experience of the previous weeks, we wanted nothing more than to worship. As we stood together for that praise and worship time I was completely overwhelmed with emotions. The trauma and the miracle we had experienced was just beginning to register.

This morning as I again stood in that congregation next to my husband for praise and worship, I reflected on the tender way he cares for me and was overcome with love for my man. He is not a public, grand gesture, romantic man. He is something better--steady, consistent and dependable. I was reminded that true, lasting love is most notable for the times when challenges have been encountered--not for the sugar-coated peaks. Anyone can splurge on roses or orchestrate romantic dates. It requires much more to walk through the unpredictable nature of life, committed, no matter what storms may come.

Relationships are solidified by faithfulness. It is true of marriage, but also a beautiful picture of the love of our Father. When I think of the tenderness of God, I am reminded not of the 'perfect' days, but of the darkest days of my life--the times when I have had to rely on Him to carry me. He is unchanging, all-powerful, always steady, constant, merciful, loving--perfect. He is our creator and knows exactly how to love us.

My husband is a treasure, but I am reminded to worship the Giver, not the gifts. I love my husband most for the characteristics he displays that are a direct result of his love for God. As it is inscribed on our wedding bands, "We love because He first loved us." I John 1:9

Way Back Wednesday II: Pregnancy Edition

My resolution to try to do 'Way Back Wednesday' posts weekly is off to a terrible start. So even though it is Friday, I am home with a sick child and decided it was as good a time as ever to escape into the past (and, perhaps, humiliate myself in the process!)
This was taken at 15 weeks.

One of the great regrets of my pregnancy is that I did not take many tummy pictures. Because we lost our hard drive a couple of years ago, these two grainy scanned pictures are all I have but for a couple of shower pictures from before I entered the hospital.

I am, by nature, modest and body conscious. Spending 8 1/2 weeks on bed rest in the hospital with extremely limited time to spend upright, you can understand how I was feeling a little less than 'my best' and did not exactly want lots of photos to memorialize my beached whale status.
This was taken at 26 weeks. I had been hospitalized for almost 3 weeks at this point and delivered 5.5 weeks later...after gaining a pound and a half a day the last week or so. You can only imagine how much bigger I was at that time!

I really did have a sense of humor about it at the time. I had gained the suggested 36 pounds by 24 weeks of gestation. I knew the 3500 calories a day I was being instructed to eat were beneficial for my growing babies, but it really was not a very attractive time in my life. It did not help that the nurses referred to me as "little big mama" as my 5'2" frame ballooned to 170lbs. They even had a trapeze bar installed over my bed so I could pull myself up if I needed to go to the bathroom. The nursing assistants and I would giggle each morning as I pulled up and rolled out of bed for my daily weigh in and 5 minutes of allotted shower time. Imagine my surprise when that 70 lbs I gained only translated into 8.5 lbs of babies!

I really did love being pregnant despite the challenges. I get sad thinking that I will never get to experience that feeling again. I loved having my babies with me all the time and constantly had my hands on my tummy. It sounds silly now, but I always felt like I had a little secret in there--lives that were a mystery to me, yet were so intricately linked to mine. Pregnancy is a miracle isn't it?

It never really occurred to me that it was the only time I would get to experience pregnancy. We had decided in advance not to have a tubal during my C-section and really hoped to be able to conceive again without assistance. God had other plans--and I am truly at peace with that. But I do regret not having more pictures.

There goes that pride, always leading me to silly decisions!

Way Back Wednesday I: The Wreck

As I pledged last week, I am going to start trying to devote Wednesday posts to highlighting significant and/or memorable things from my life before I blogged daily. I anticipate this walk down memory lane will be somewhat random. Without further adieu, my first installation.

December 23, 1987
(Was it 21 years ago, really? Wow!)
My sister, Amanda, and I were traveling from our home in Phenix City, Alabama with my Aunt Laurie and cousin Leigh to meet my Aunt Leslie at a Christmas Carousel near her home in Lanett, AL. The drive is only about 40 minutes, but was almost completely dark, country two-lane roads.

As we were leaving my mother commanded us to wear our seatbelts. This seems insignificant now, but remember in the 80's seatbelts were not yet state law. As a matter of fact, my mother's insistence was largely because of the mid-80s campaigning for widespread voluntary seatbelt use by Barbara Mandrell after she suffered near-fatal accident.

At approximately 7pm, as we were approaching the top of a hill on a very dark country road we saw the headlights of another vehicle coming up over the hill--and they appeared to be squarely in our lane. My aunt was driving. I was in the front passenger seat. I can still remember what those ominous lights looked like--the uncertainty of whether or not they were actually in our lane---how it really did happen in snapshots of slow motion.

There was no screaming. My Aunt Laurie swerved toward the left. The lights-that-seemed-intent-on-hitting-us followed. As she snatched the wheel back towards the right side of the road the impact happened. Head-on. Both vehicles were estimated to be travelling about 60 mph.

Our seatbelts, the front-end collision firewall in my aunt's car (a feature only found in two types of cars at that time) and the providence of God saved our lives. The immediate aftermath of the collision involved scrambling to vacate the car before anyone else crested the hill and unknowingly slammed into us. I remember being deathly afraid the car was going to explode. (I was 13 and had seen too many action movies.)

Over the course of the next several minutes strangers stopped and rendered aid while we waited for an ambulance to arrive. We were all laying in various places along a grass embankment with no idea of the conditions of the other members of our family...and still no idea who had been in that other car and whether they had survived.

Although I wound up being among the least injured, I had muffled chest sounds at the scene which led to fears that I might have a rib injury that punctured a lung. I, therefore, wound up on the first ambulance with the man who had hit us. We were both on backboards, with C-collars on our necks, and a handful of EMTs hovering. I will never forget seeing the grandfatherly, uniformed state trooper lean into the back of the ambulance and pronounce, "Mr. Ronald Lee P., you have the right to remain silent..." I remember the gravity of the situation starting to settle in at that point and the tears began to flow. They were hot, angry tears...an overflow of fear and disbelief. There was a uniformed woman holding my hand, attempting to shield me from what was going on with the drunk, extremely belligerent man who has hit us.

We would later learn that Ronnie was an admitted alcoholic, with previous DUIs, who had a 3.7 blood alcohol content and a fifth of Jim Beam between his legs at the scene of the accident. He had two dozen broken bones and spent several months in the hospital.

I do not remember much more about the experience except for the moment my mom and dad arrived. They had received a phone call telling them we had been in an accident and our conditions were unknown. They drove the 35 miles to East Alabama Medical Center in Opelika, Alabama in silence.

Amanda and I were placed in the same holding room after our evaluations. When my mother came running frantically around the corner she saw her two daughters lying side by side on gurneys, still immobilized with backboards and C-collars and IVs. Yet, I could sense her immediate relief. We were clearly a sight for sore eyes. (As I reconsider this experience from the perspective of a mother, it takes on even more meaning.)

My aunt and 2 year old cousin were stitched up and sent home to recover. I spent one night for observation. My little sister spent 3-4 additional days as she recovered from a broken ankle and collarbone.

I had nightmares for months that the driver came back to finish the job. I know it is not rational, just the manifestation of my fears. In the Spring of 1988 I was summoned to testify before a grand jury. The state of Alabama automatically pressed charges against the driver because of his high blood alcohol content.

I was so young, I really just wanted to move on, so I am not certain what wound up happening to Mr. P. As I was writing this tonight I did a google search to see if I could find any information on him, but yielded nothing.

This experience obviously effected me in many ways, but I think the most lasting impact was on my relationship with my sister. We were 13 and 10 and had historically had a fairly rocky relationship. Those moments on the side of the road, the hours in the trauma bay of the Emergency Room, coming that close to losing each other--it was remarkable perspective to be given at our ages. We still had our sibling issues as we went through adolescence together...but I think we always have December 23rd somewhere in the back of our minds.