Where Everybody Knows Your Name 🎶

...and theyre always glad you came. Do those lyrics ring any bells? While the show (Cheers, if you didn't know) may not have had the best values to emulate {cringe}, who can't agree with that sentiment? I feel like, in all stages of life, knowing and being known are so important to all of us. Maybe, if you're more of an introvert, you just need one or two people to know you well. An extrovert might really need to feel known and seen by a larger group. I've been a child and teenager, and am now raising my third and fourth children/teenagers. I'm in my, ahem, late 40s. Not much is more painful for any stage of life than feeling unnoticed, unknown, unaccepted, and worse, unwanted. On the show I mentioned, when a certain person would walk in to the bar, everyone would call out his name and the bartender always knew what he wanted. While I don't recommend seeking that out in a bar setting, it just seems amazing to think of being known and noticed like that. What if we treated people like that regularly? What if we took the time to notice when they are there or not. What they like or don't like? What if we paid attention to those around us and they knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that they are valued, noticed, accepted-the man in the show wasn't super successful, he wasn't the fittest, best looking, or best dressed. But he was acknowledged, welcomed HEARTILY, and known. When someone walks into church, their home, a meeting...what if we greeted them like they mattered? It could make a difference.

Twenty-Nine

Twenty nine years holds a lot. Saturday (the 26th of August), Harold and I celebrated our 29th anniversary. I look back and I cant believe it's been 29 years. Years filled with joy, laughter, good times. But also, sadness, heart ache and hard times. I never want to sugar-coat marriage or life. We can look for (and at) the positive, while still being honest and real. Twenty-nine looks like: growing pains-growing up is hard, whether you do it single or married, living apart for work, infertility plus pregnancy loss, health scares, pregnancy, parenthood (lack of sleep), moves, financial hardships, not always agreeing on the next steps for your family but figuring it out anyways, launching kids-and worrying about them a LOT, growing older and reconciling that and all it means, walking through the deaths of parents and grandparents with each other, welcoming grandbabies... And in the midst of all of that there are the day to day things. Joking, laughing, hard work, frustrations, trips for ice cream, deep talks, not so deep talks... If I sugarcoat this, if I make it sound like it's all sunshine and snuggles, I would do a disservice to others. This isnt a social media image perfected with filters. Real life is good and bad, happy and sad. I want my kids to know that we love each other and it's not always easy. But it's worth it. That we don't have it perfected but we won't stop trying. That the bad times will pass if you keep choosing to love each other and work at it. We are just two imperfect people choosing to love each other for better or for worse.

Upper Peninsula Beauty

I love to travel. It is life giving for me. I always say if I won the lottery (not that I play more than once a year), I would not want a huge house, fancy cars or "things". My winnings would be spent on travel. My preference is road trips. I'm not a fan of flying in particular-not because I'm afraid, I just hate the process. It's tedious, plus I like more control than flying allows. So, we try to take vacations with the kids every year. Sometimes close and sometimes far! This year we went to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. I LOVED it! We were so blessed to miss the haze from the Canadian Wildfires-it was an issue before we were there as well as after. Our main activities on this trip were a full day (guided) kayaking tour around Pictured Rocks (Lake Superior) and a Glassbottom Boat Shipwreck Tour. (Believe it or not, the boats we had to power ourselves were way more expensive than the other ;) )

My favorite pictures from the shipwreck tour had nothing to do with shipwrecks and everything to do with the lighthouse we saw. If the shipwrecks had had more human interest stories (people who were on the ships, etc) I would have liked them a lot more. But the lighthouse sparked my curiosity with the story of a family being dropped off each spring.

We went on some relaxed "hikes" (more like walks).

And we ate some great PIZZA (not as easy when you're searching for gluten free)! And this ice cream was as good as you imagine with no nutritional information! :p

All in all, we had a great trip (just don't ask me about traveling with dogs-my answer will not be a happy one).

Gardening. A Tale of Neglect.

I don't even know how it happened. Or why. I have a couple of ideas but none of them are valid excuses. My garden is BAD. Ever heard of "pig weed"? My garden is FULL of it.

I have tried to get it back under control a few times. But it's like one step forward and three steps backward. I can almost (but not literally-because I hate the overuse of that word) hear the weeds popping up. "Pop" "Pop" "Pop pop pop" And then my back, neck and shoulder hurt for DAYS. Literally.  My would be excuses: 1) We didn't get any rain for so long I thought it was a lost cause. My rain barrel was even empty. 2) Vacation 3) I started a new job. I'm just waiting tables part time but I've mostly been a stay at home wife and mom for 23 years! And I'm in the learning curve for managing my house work and garden. And my introvertedness. And making time for my husband, kids and grandbabies! But none of that really matters. I planted a garden. And I'm so mad at myself for dropping the ball on it. And yet...

So, it looks as if I will get some yield from my garden despite my negligence. 凉

The Plans He Has For Us

Jeremiah 29:11 For I know the plans I have for you…plans to prosper you and not to harm you. I know how most people read this verse, as a reassurance. A reassurance that nothing gets past God and that He has a good plan for His people. That He works everything for our good. And that’s true. And there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s true. But something occurred to me this morning. What if it also means that His plans are good for us. They are plans to prosper us and not to bring us to harm. So we should follow those plans. I’ve seen time and time again how when we step outside of His will, including the guardrails He sets up for us, it leads to pain and fruitless times. I’ve seen it in my own life and I’ve seen it in the lives of others. I’m not saying that if you follow God your life will be roses and sunshine. It won’t. I promise. There are examples in the Bible (Job for one, Paul for another) of the troubles that faithful people went through. And my family has been through plenty-during times we’ve been closely following God and times we haven’t. But when I am closely following God I have a strong tower. I have a “safe place”. My grandpa used to always say “just do what’s right”. And obviously, there are times when we just aren’t sure what that is (choosing between two jobs or to move or not move are examples) but many times we know what is right but we choose what is wrong. It rarely ends well.

What’s Your Story?

There’s a scene in Pretty Woman where a man is yelling “Welcome to Hollywood, what’s your dream…? Some dreams come true, some don’t but keep dreamin!’” Do you ever just want to know someone’s story? Whether it’s someone you see at the grocery store that looks sad, or even angry-do you wonder what brought them to that point, what makes them tick? What about when you see someone who is just so happy? Are they really, truly happy, or is it someone like Robin Williams? The tears of a clown, when no one’s around… When you come across someone who is considered by society to be less than…a drug addict, a prostitute, do you wonder what brought them there? No little girl wakes up on a happy morning in her bubble gum pink bedroom with Barbie’s and baby dolls and thinks she aspires to be a prostitute. Something broke somewhere. But what? No boy leaves his baseball game and thinks “I’ll probably just try some [meth]. Maybe become hooked and need to steal-even from my family.” I am a people watcher. Reading people. And sometimes feeling what they put off. (Not always, but often.) I’ve just started a part time job as a waitress in a small restaurant (first time to ever wait tables!) and sometimes I have a customer who seems very gruff. My goal is to make their day better. Not because I’ll get a tip. But because it’s what makes me tick. Often in this restaurant it’s an older person who seems just…unhappy. But if you listen (even eavesdrop??) you will often hear them tell a part of their story. These people have had a life. Some have very interesting stories. I pray daily that I will treat each and every customer as if she or he is the best tipper ever. (Whether they are or not isn’t my business.) What if we all do that? Treat people the best we possibly can. What if tou become one of the best parts of someone's story?

Launching

Launching your kids into adulthood is not an easy task.  Obviously, the practical things are important: finances, life skills like cleaning and time management. Do they know how to avoid pitfalls when they have complete freedom? All of that is super important, but what I’m talking about is the letting go. The emotional part. And sometimes the years leading up to that aren’t ideal. We were living “on the road” in a travel trailer. My (then) 17 year old daughter didn’t come with us. She was attending community college and working. If I’d we had made her come with us it would have stunted her. But staying without her family also wasn’t ideal. It caused a lot of pain for her. My (then) 15 year old son DID have to come with us. And leave behind a girlfriend, his friend group, etc. When he turned 16 we had to make some big decisions. He had opportunities to work come up (construction for good friends) and we decided to let him make an 8 hour drive alone. Across west Texas. If you’ve not been there…desert. Plus navigating San Antonio alone. At barely 16. That’s not how I would have imagined parenting at those ages. I’ve graduated and released 2 into the world. One is married with babies now-and has ended up close to us. And one lives 1000 miles away. I worry about him. I pray for him. A lot. He’s not mine to control. Nor do I want to. But that grown man was once my baby. I nursed him. I held him. I helped him through horrible episodes of croup. Then I let him go on scout camping trips. Then the driving alone across Texas. Then he did an amazing trip at 17 with his best friend. Try letting go on that one? But it was then or never. He left the same week as my 2 youngest went to camp-the youngest for the first time ever with no friends in the group of boys going. That week was huge for me. I guess a core memory. And I found out one of my closest friends criticized me and said it wasn’t normal to be that attached to your kids. Another core memory. I have 2 more to launch into this crazy world. Thankfully they are having more of a traditional life. And I hope the launch is more traditional. I let the now 16 year old drive where she needs to drive. I let out enough rope and pray it’s not enough for her to hang herself. My kids don’t deserve to have their growth and life stunted by any anxieties I might have. But it’s not easy. Have grace for those friends who are making huge strides in letting go. Just because I didn’t like it and I was a nervous mess, I did it anyways. I did it for my kids. And isn’t that the definition of bravery? Doing it scared?

On Aging

Has anyone else noticed that how we perceive and accept aging has changed over the last couple of generations? Hair color, anti-aging creams, surgeries, and younger fashion trends all seem to be the normal for women into their 50s and 60s now. We are expected to never age. 

While there's nothing wrong with taking good care of ourselves-including our appearance-I think we have to be real and have some level of acceptance that time marches on.

My hair has a lot of gray and no amount of brown hair dye is going to make me look like I'm 26. And I'm ok with that. Or I'm trying to be. Some days I'm really not. But I feel like there's no going back now. 

I faithfully use my "Oil of Old Lady" (aka Oil of Olay)-partly because I now live in the midwest where the humidity is not 96% and partly because of those fine lines I heard about on commercials for years. 

I exercise and try to watch what I eat. But I won't have my 18 year old body again. And I'm (mostly) ok with that. 

I haven't traded my jeans and shirts in for skirts and "blouses" or elastic waist pants (well, except for Yoga pants, and that's totally different). But those jeans with all the holes? And super low rise? Or, maybe worse, high rise? To accentuate that not-so-flat belly? No thanks. 

Last March, I got promoted to Gram! In September I had a hysterectomy-life changing in the best ways possible, but still feels like an "old lady" thing to say. In November, I celebrated what felt like a significant birthday to me. I turned 46. I guess it feels significant because I'm now closer to 50 than to 40. 🤯 Half of my nest is now empty and Harold and I are finding our now normal as a not-as-young married couple and changing parenting stages. Sometimes I am not really sure who I am or what I'm doing. I don't feel this old in my head (my back and knees sometimes remind me that I truly am though.) 

I just have to wonder if my grandma ever felt this way. Did she feel like she was supposed to pretend to be 10 or 20 years younger than she actually was? 

On Moving and Moving On

Moving is EASY. I know that’s probably not a statement most people who have moved would agree with but bear with me. Moving is easy...compared to making where you’ve moved a real home. I’m not talking about a house. We are working on that but it’s mostly within our control. Furniture, your things put away and pictures on the walls. It’s a work in progress but it’s also a labor of love and just takes time. But we choose when and how. We aren’t dependent on anyone else.

A view of our backyard on Halloween morning when fall dresses up as winter

The hard part is finding your place in the new community while recognizing that your old “community” has moved on. You aren’t on their radar any longer. Out of sight, out of mind. While that hurts, I do understand.

Meanwhile, your new community doesn’t have an empty spot just waiting for you and your family to fill. The loneliness is sometimes overwhelming between two worlds. Maybe more so as a homeschooling family. If there’s not a homeschool group nearby that just happens to be a this wonderful fit, you’re floundering. Kids don’t have friends and mom doesn’t have support. Field trips are not on the calendar...

We have made a couple of friends, and for that I’m thankful.

Sometimes when life gets “flip turned upside down”, it feels like it will never be right again. 

Old Walls

When we walked into our home we fell in love. Within minutes we knew, just knew, it was supposed to be our home. It’s over 100 years old. The original floor plan may not have included an indoor bathroom (I need to see if I can find out!). We knew it had imperfections. And we were fine with it!

But once you start painting. When all of the sellers “stuff” is out. When every little lump and bump and crooked corner is highlighted in its nakedness...I started to get a little sad or maybe frustrated. Every wall has a story of something someone else did over the last 100 years. These old plaster walls tell a story. A story of how the previous owners did or didn’t know what they were doing. 

This wall is where it is the most obvious. We repaired (with spackling) the worst of it but decided to leave it perfectly imperfect. It’s also still half painted. 

And it hit me. This is life. (I’ve spent hours and hours painting so I’ve had a LOT of time to think!)

The last five years have been probably the hardest in our marriage. No marriage is without conflict and a little strife but I always felt like we came as close as anyone to having a happy, fairly easy marriage. So, now we have some bumps. Some scars. From our own conflict as well as external factors. We are like those walls. We don’t look all smooth and straight like we might have 10 years ago (I don’t know if we did or not, but in my memory we were pretty stinking happy! I know memories sometimes delete the day to day trials and you tend to remember only the good) but I hope that we are stronger. I keep wanting us to be who we were 6-7 years ago. But I’m coming to realize we can’t. And imperfect is ok. (That’s really hard for a perfectionist to say!) I didn’t want bumps and lumps and proof that we didn’t know what we were doing to be part of our story. But here it is. And like this beautifully, imperfect house that we are making into our home, we need to care for it. We need some patching up and some paint. We need some extra time together. Time spent just on each other. Sometimes, with 3 kids still at home, that isn’t easy because they need us too! But it needs to be a priority. One thing we are doing is going away this weekend. Just the 2 of us. No kids, no paint, no brushes, no rollers. Just us. With the lumps. The cracks that have been mended. With the quirks and creaks. Hopefully we will discover new things about each other just like we are as we explore our home!

What do you do to keep your marriage alive and well? Or what do tounwish you had done? 

Now, back to painting. 

I Think I've Always Wanted a Home

From the time I was a little girl I loved books. All the books. And I loved for my mom or my grandma to read to me. In turn, because I had such a good memory of that, I loved to read to my kids. A favorite book for all 3 generations was 

So maybe it’s not weird that this book came to mind now that we are getting a home!

For over 2 years we've actually been "homeless". No, we weren't living in a cardboard box or under a bridge, but in a travel trailer. A nice one, but still...in the state of Texas it's legally considered "homeless" if you live in a travel trailer! 😱

During those 2 years of living in purgatory everyone's dream, I stayed alive by dreaming of a home. 

I always wanted us to build a little home. Nothing big or ostentatious. Just enough. (I'm done with tiny living but I've never wanted a large house.) I drew floor plans on graph paper, I searched Pinterest ad nauseum, I saved paint samples. I searched websites for companies that build shells.

I even went and visited said companies!!! And took a picture in front of what I wanted for my future home!

When it came down to it though, the last few years have just been too stressful to take on the stress of building.  We are tired. We just needed a home. So we started looking. And every house we found had something wrong. Something that just made me sad because my dream was slipping away. Location. No front porch. No chickens. A master bedroom that was not on the first floor (we want to be able to live in our home forever if we choose). We put an offer on a house. We gave up location, I gave up the front porch. And it needed work. A LOT of work. When our offer was accepted, I was sad. And stressed. Thankfully, the realtor caught how I was feeling and we got out of the offer (the seller hadn't responded within the correct time anyways). I'm so thankful!

The next day we looked at the house that is as close to our dream home as can be considering we didn't design it ourselves. It's in the cutest little town. It has a front porch. We can even have chickens! We could not be more excited. We are in the process of moving in and painting now! Not all of that is fun, but it’s worth it! I *know* I always want a home!

And

Blessings Come in Different Places

Due to some rough life stuff,  I’ve been in kind of a spiritual desert 🌵 lately. Things have just been dry and HARD. Not fit for growing much. Or maybe it has been all for growth and I just didn’t do very well. But I digress.

We left the desert (literal) for a new job. A job that never came through. So, after two months of being in a climate that should have been ripe for much growth, we are back.

And if you just look around you see a lot of dry, brown, dirt, a few sad cactuses, dirt....and sometimes a dust storm comes along to make it really make it pretty. (Ok, I'm exaggerating but you get the point)

(The best picture I had of the ugly landscape around here-even though this picture shows some of my biggest, most obvious blessings 😉)Blessings

And then there are the sunsets. Oh. My. GOODNESS. So, tonight, it hit me. God blesses different places and lives in different ways.

Maybe I was looking down at the ground for my blessings. Maybe I was looking for trees and grass when my blessings, my sign of His goodness are in the sky.


I’m not as well traveled as some people for sure. But I’m not untraveled either. And West Texas has some of the most glorious, beautiful sunsets of any I’ve seen.

G’bye 2018

                                         

So, normally I’m not a “wishing time away” kind of girl. (And clearly I’m borrowing time back if I call myself a “girl”).

But 2018 can just suck it. I’ll show it the door-and I don’t care if it hits it on the way out. 2018 has been a rough year for this family. 

The pendulum has swung from highs to lows. Hubby working so many hours that our family life suffered tremendously (cancelled plans when he was required to work on a weekend he was supposed to have off) for most of the year, followed by 2 months (so far) of unplanned, unpaid “vacation”. 

The only way we could get through the working-so-many-hours-you want-to-die part was reassuring ourselves that we were saving for a house! (Yay! Getting out of the camper!!). But when the next job doesn’t start when you were told it would, and things keep going wrong....the dreams of that house get flushed down the toilet quickly. And it’s ever so hard to pull yourself up out of the pit of hopelessness.  

I’ve always loved New Year’s. I stink at resolutions and I’m not a partier so I’m not really sure why. There’s just something about the fresh calendar and even the fresh bill folder. Empty file folders and a new number to write with the date. (Kinda like the first day of school and new books and supplies-if you’re not a nerd I may not be speaking your language.)

2019 needs to see some surrender I think. I need to surrender to whatever it is that God has for us. His plan certainly doesn’t look anything like mine. And fighting it doesn’t seem to be getting me anywhere. I’m just tired. It’s kind of like dog paddling. You look really busy and you’re breathing really hard but you’re just going almost nowhere. 

I’m not saying I’ve “arrived”. And that there won’t be some kicking and screaming worthy of a spoiled, rotten three year old. But I’m going to work on this thing. Not as a resolution. We all know those usually hit the toilet around mid-January. 

“God has not promised us skies always blue, flower strewn pathways all our lives through...”

I get it. 

Rough Road Ahead

When you're driving down the highway you get a warning. "Hey, you! Slow down a little and get ready! It's fixin' to get rough!" (This is how the road signs in Texas talk y'all.) Or, "Don't drift out of your lane because there will be a scary drop that feels like you're losing control."

How I wish life was a little bit more like driving. "Things are about to get rough. Brace yourself or exit now." Unfortunately, there is often NO WARNING.

Now, I know that my life isn't the worst. There are so many that have it worse. I get that. I really do. But it's not the easiest either.

About 5 years ago we had some major shakeups. My husband quit his job of almost 9 years to go work at a better job. One with benefits (finally) and opportunities for overtime (a chance to pay off debt). Only that's not how it worked out. This is where the signs would have been beneficial.

Right there.

"Curves ahead" "Rough Road" "Sharp Curve Ahead"

You know, just basic warnings. And every time we think we are recovering and overcoming, a whole new "rough" comes along and throws us into uneven lanes.  As Christians, we know that we are not in this alone. We know that God has a plan. And we try, we really do, to keep that in mind and hang on. If I had a nickel for every time I've heard the verse said to me "And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are called according to His purpose." (Romans 8:28 KJV) we wouldn't need to work anymore. But it doesn't make it easier. We also understand that that "good" doesn't always happen here on earth. We know that our lives aren't charmed-shoot, sometimes they're barely bearable. And I don't even pretend to understand why some people seem to float along in the "happily ever after" part of the fairy tale while the rest of us feel like Cinderella looked after the step-sisters ripped all of of her finery off.



So, here we sit. Spending our house money while we wait for the job to start that was already supposed to be in full swing. Discouraging for sure.

It Is Well...

.

Prologue: This blog post has been sitting-half finished- as a draft for MONTHS. Partly because, as we travel to different areas, my internet connection isn't good enough to do much on the computer, I'm busy, I constantly drive long distances....but I think if I'm honest it's partly because it's just so dang hard. Most of the time I choose not to think about the fact that my grandma isn't sitting in the chair near my grandpa's chair anymore...

With My Soul
This summer my grandma was diagnosed with ovarian cancer that had metastasized. No treatment. Just make her as comfortable as possible.

I was extremely close to my grandma. She was like a second mom to me. My mom is great, I just got the best of both! She came to help me with 3 of my 4 newborn babies. I'm very grateful for all the time I had with her as I know most people don't have their grandma at age 41. But man I miss her! I haven't lived close to my grandparents for a long while but we were always close where it mattered. In our hearts.

In so many instances, grandparents have so much to give. When they were the parents, when their own children were young, they had all the stresses of that life. Earning enough money to keep things going, working full time (I know my grandpa worked 2 and 3 jobs at times!), keeping the house clean, making the kids mind their manners. Being a parent is stressful. It's the best and hardest job in the world I believe. If you're doing it well.

When grandkids come along you have one job really. To love them. It's not your responsibility to make sure they eat their broccoli. You get to give them ice cream. You don't have to make the hard decisions and discipline nearly like you do as a parent (sure, grandparents should come alongside parents and support them in their responsibilities, but it's just that. Support. Not your full-time responsibility.)

Anywho, my grandparents embraced this role. I'm quite sure the grandma I remember is not the same as the mom my mom remembers. Does that make sense? My mom was the baby of 3 kids. All born within about 5 years. Three kids in five years. My mom likely remembers an exhausted mom. One who didn't have much time to be silly or just sit and talk. While we didn't do that often, it did sometimes happen.


I remember taking a walk with her one time and she taught me how to "skip a stick" (you make it skip as you kind of push it along).

I remember her driving me to church once. My grandpa always drove. Always. She had a license but she didn't drive. And she drove in the grass. I apparently reported this to my grandpa. We laughed about it til...the end.

I remember that she knew when I asked for crushed ice, I likely had strep throat.

I remember that my friends and I would build tents out of her chairs and sheets in the living room on Saturday. Her one day to clean (she worked full time)

I remember that when we went out to eat, I would sit reeeeal close to her when her salad came and say "we share, right Grandma?" Funny, I don't ever remember her asking for my food?

I remember when we moved a thousand miles away when I was 13, it was the hardest thing ever. I'd spent every weekend with my grandparents since I was an infant. (That is, during the times we didn't live with them-which we did for many of the years.)

I remember her standing at the kitchen counter always cutting a piece of fruit and offering it to me.

I remember that if I hated what was for dinner, she would make me macaroni and cheese.

I remember when I had my first baby, she came the day before. When we came home from the hospital and the baby wouldn't stop crying (I think she was broke!?) my grandma and grandpa sent me and my exhausted husband to bed. I was protesting that I would need to feed the baby. She won. Best sleep I had for another year.

I remember when the screaming baby was screaming (get the theme here?) and she was trying to help me and give guidance without bossing me around, she said "She's your baby, Cara." (I had asked if I could give her mylicon to try to make her stop crying.)

I remember when she pulled out of our driveway when Lindsay (my first) was a week old. I was terrified and emotional and...terrified!

(for the record, my mom would have loved to have been there for the baby's birth but my brothers were in school and, see? She was the mom! She had to do what HAD to be done.)

This past summer was the hardest thing ever. Harder than when we moved away. Harder than when she would visit and then have to leave. Harder than when they pulled out of my driveway and left me with this baby that I didn't know if I could take care of all by myself (Harold had to work).

Because this time, she needed me. This time it was me taking care of her. This time it was me saying goodbye to my grandma. My grandma. Ovarian cancer (any cancer) sucks. It made her waste away right in front of our eyes. It tried to take away her dignity. It didn't win, but it sure gave a heck of a fight. Watching her lay there in the hospital bed at home, with oxygen constantly motoring into her frail body (where did that frail come from? She was never frail before?). Watching her heart beat like mad through her chest...how do you reconcile that? I was blessed to be able to spend several days helping to care for her right at the end. I've beat myself up many times and wished I could go back to redo my leaving. I left a few days before she passed away. We didn't know how long it would be. Hospice seemed to think it would take longer. I couldn't stay forever. But I wish I'd have stayed a little longer.



It's been 7 months since the horrible day my cousin's wife texted me to let me know exactly when she passed into the arms of Jesus. In that time, I have never once grieved for my grandma. She's fine. It's us. My grandpa in particular. The thought of him sitting there alone. It was months before I could talk to him without crying-and trying to hide it so as not to make him feel worse. In those 7 months there has been a Thanksgiving, her birthday, Christmas, and their 68th anniversary. And we are coming up on a wedding. I know I'm blessed to have had so much time, but...

On a happy note, my grandpa, while going through a stack of papers looking for an address or something, found a little jotted note "It will all be worth it when we see Jesus". I think that's the legacy I'd most like to remember her by. Faith. Life wasn't always easy for her and I'm sure I didn't know the HALF of it. She never complained! Seriously, I wonder how long she had been in serious pain before anyone knew? Marriage wasn't always easy. Whose is? Motherhood? That's some hard stuff. But, she kept her faith and finished her race. Love you grandma!

Oh The Places We've Gone!

Ten years ago we bought a new van! (Well, almost new. I prefer not to buy brand new because I don't like losing $10k plus in the amount of time it takes to drive off of the car lot...but that's a whole other story!) We bought a 2007 Toyota Sienna. Dark red with gray interior. It's been our friend. It's even more than that, it's become part of our family! (this is not our actual van because *if* I took a picture of it when we bought it, it's long gone like 8 phones ago!)

I even made a "states I've been to" map for JUST the van!

Oops! I missed Nebraska! LOL, I know we didn't jump over it. The van is great, but not THAT great!

Yellowstone, Disney World, family visits, visits to friends. We've slept in it (on purpose!). We drove the last baby home from the hospital in it. So many memories.

Do you see those babies?? The ones in the top two pictures are now both taller than me. Lindsay will likely never go on another family vacation with us again.

And my van needs to be replaced. Does that seem significant at all? To anyone else? The van that we ALL went on vacations in will be gone. Replaced by a new one that we haven't all been in.

And I'm dragging my heels because it holds so many memories. I know, I know, I have the memories in me blah blah blah. But 10 years of our family life has happened in that van!

We've decided on another Sienna because it's been such an amazing vehicle (1 trip to the shop in all that time! And that was just recently at 200,000miles.) We probably don't need a van that seats 8 anymore, but it drives like a car. I can park it almost anywhere (unlike the huge SUVs) and tires are much less expensive, as are gas and oil.

It doesn't look quite as shiny as that first picture. Missing a hub cap from a blow out experience, the paint has seen better days. But for some reason, I don't look forward to the shiny new van like I *should*.

So Many Changes!

My dear, humble, little blog. Oh how I have missed you! The last year or so has been such a whirlwind. So much craziness and so many emotions. Momentous occasions and not so momentous ones.

First, I'll start with this.

For years I've been intrigued by tiny living, tiny houses, schoolies, camper life...you name it! I was just so interested in the how! How do you fit all you need in that space? (let me clue you in: with a family, you don't) How do you make a living "on the road"? (well, for us that's the reason we are doing it!) My family insists that I thought I should have one and live in one (a tiny home), but that's not true! I said I would have wanted to if I didn't have a large family! That's different. I just was curious. And they're cute!

Well, now I have one. Not exactly a "tiny house" but really it is. And you don't fit all your needed stuff in it. My poor van drags its behind because of the amount of "stuff" we keep packed in that sucker! I can't wait to share our solution as soon as we get it and get it "done"! My hope is that our "home" won't always look like this:

We have also had a son "graduate" from Boy Scouts to earn his Eagle Rank! And he was only 14!

Our oldest daughter graduated High School!!! (I made it! My first student successfully completed high school and is ROCKING college!!!!)

We sold the home we lived in for almost 12 years.

Which allowed us to pay off a mountain of credit card debt and start fresh! I do not miss that millstone hanging around our necks.

And our oldest daughter is now engaged to be married! To one of her best friends for years! The actual courtship/engagement has been a whirlwind but they've known each other for so many years that a long engagement is just not necessary.

I'm rushing through so many things here in this post that I hope to go back and visit them again. (Like why I'm a fan of young marriage-for some!) I hope to keep up a little better now that we have a new adventure to share about.