A Rainy, Cold Sunday Afternoon

This, I tell you friends, is the life!!
Photo courtesy of Lyle Jones Photography

A Safe Place

There is nothing more frustrating than knowing you have something and not being able to find it when you need it. I do this all the time. I put something in a “safe place”. Then, when I want it, I can’t remember where that "safe place" is. :0)

I searched and searched today for a piece of paper I vividly remember putting in a “safe place” a few weeks ago because it was sooooo important. I’ve stopped looking, realizing that my paper is indeed VERY, VERY safe since I can’t even find it. The good news is that I found Lyle’s debit card that I put in a “safe place” a few months ago and hadn’t been able to find.

Does anyone out there relate to this? If I’m this bad at age 52, what will I be like at 72? Sometimes I think my brain leaves me home and goes out to lunch:

Double Bummer

One Flat Tire = BummerTwo Flat Tires = Double Bummer

While Lyle was in school on Thursday (between 7:00 and 11:30 a.m.) someone punctured two of his tires (and we found a nail in the third one). When we took the tires to Les Schwab, they found not one but two puncture holes in each of the tires. I find it difficult to understand why people vandalize/destroy other people's property.

Fly to Jesus

Through waterfall tears (which is why I couldn't find a better picture than that one taken at my 50th birthday), I write this blog post. I said my goodbyes today to one of the dearest people in my life, Ken Kinnier. Soon we'll walk together on that road of grief, surrounding each other, lifting Mrs. Kinnier and her family up, celebrating his life. So much pain, so many tears, so many memories.

Before I left his room, I sang part of a song:

And with your final heartbeat,
You’ll kiss the world goodbye,
And go in peace and laugh on glory’s side.
So fly to Jesus.
Fly to Jesus.
Fly to Jesus and live.

Yes, he’s headed home to Jesus soon. No more Huntington’s Disease. A blessed reunion with family and friends who have went before. His finish line is in sight, a well paced race ran with determination and endurance. And there is no doubt in my mind and anyone else who knows Ken Kinnier, that he will hear Jesus say, “Well done!” So, Mr. Kinnier, fly to Jesus and live!

Perfect Does Not = Wonderful

LOVE, LOVE, LOVE THIS QUOTE:

I have spent my whole life, it seems, trying to be perfect. The perfect daughter, perfect mother, perfect friend, perfect wife - not to mention keeping a perfect house. I was raised to always do my best, with the understanding that my best was perfect, therefore anything less meant I hadn’t done a proper job. Of course, no one demanded perfect in my household but me. Still, I have a hard time letting it go. I can’t help it. I think it is my job, somehow, to make the world orderly and clean.

I don’t want to believe in perfect anymore. I think it is a good time to shed the shell of perfection and grow a newer, more flexible one to carry me through the second half of my life.

The Best Present Ever

People say that "the best way to a man's heart is through his stomach." From my experience, it is the best way to any person's heart. The gift of food is awesome! It doesn't cause clutter and one size fits all! It is a gift of service and allows the cook in the house to give a gift to the rest of the family - a good meal!

I can't imagine anyone who wouldn't enjoy having dinner prepared for them by someone else, especially during this busy, busy time of the year! And that's just what we got as a Christmas present from Mike and Marci Martin - homemade spaghetti sauce and noodles. It was delish!! Thank you Martin Family!

In Memoriam

June 23, 1933 - December 1, 1997
My Daddy was kind, compassionate, caring, friendly, helpful, loyal, easy-going, faithful, hard working, funny, handsome, brave, dedicated...and the list could go on and on. One of the things he did best was loving people unconditionally! Yes, he was so many things to so many people, but to me he was just my Daddy, and I was his little girl (even after I was grown).

Time does heal, but the hole left in my heart 14 years ago is just as big today! I miss you, Daddy!