How to ride a Motorcycle

It's been one year since I made eye contact with my brother.
It was a Sunday and as I left the hospital, I smiled at him and gave him a thumbs up,
not knowing that it would the be the last time I would see him conscious and awake.
I've regretted that thumbs up.

I wish I would have just smiled at him...

given him a hand over my heart..
or a heartfelt praying hands gentle bow.
I know that now.

After his journey on earth ended...

I said I would find the words to tell you about him.
I have found many words, but haven't found a way to say all I feel about him.

What I do have is the words that were crowding my head and heart on the day I drove from Indy to Lowell after being told he was starting hospice care.
I knew I would want to remember them, to write them down...so I used my phone and recorded my rambling thoughts during that drive.
I didn't know how we would do this.
How we would get thru this.
I'm still not sure.

But, as always...
my brother showed me how.

Here are those words:

https://s3.amazonaws.com/videos.artwork.fm/18/fcdd6ffaa147af93b41093facc80c9/Dave-copy.mp4?fbclid=IwAR3EBmvmi49Q2yY0lNGRigvIpblkdJ8A682crf2UGxJfiQYj43afeRAmbwk

Flashback Friday....Firstborn Nephew

The Boy that made me Aunt Nancy!

Happy 50!

Darold!!

~ I'm Alright ~

(Warning - "this is us" spoiler alert, if you haven't caught up...start at the third paragraph)

I finally got caught up on the TV show "This Is Us." I watched 

the episode that aired after the Super Bowl on Monday night.

It is the episode that reveals how one of the main characters die... and it shows the surviving family members 20 years in the future and the various ways they "remember" the loved one, each in their own way. The wife has a ritual where she makes his favorite meal – and just spends the day hoping to hear or see a message or something that shows her – he is still "here."

As I watched on this Monday night, it did not escape my attention that the next day was Tuesday, that this week would be 19 years since my mom died, and I, like Rebecca, would be remembering, watching, waiting.

My mom died on February 9, 1999.

It was a Tuesday.

I always try to have the day off and have my own ritual and try to do something that my mom would like.

Even though February 9 is the actual anniversary, it's always that Tuesday that hits the hardest and lays my heart wide open in sorrow AND in gratitude.

This Tuesday, I wrote in my journal and as I flipped open a book that I try to read every day ?, I noticed a paper that is in the book, but I don't usually use as a bookmark.

It was a photo copy of a picture of my mom and me. My mom is dressed in a Jackie Kennedy inspired outfit and I am next to her looking like I am not exactly enjoying my, what looks to be made of scratchy wool ?, outfit.

What I zeroed in on in this picture was how my little hand was wrapped around her already visible, but not nearly as bad as later, arthritic finger.

My mom's hands.

There is little in this world that has filled me with so much anguish AND so much love, as my mom's hands.

Anguish over how much pain she endured. And love because they were the hands of a person I loved so much and who loved us and gave so much to us, even in the midst of pain.

After marveling a bit at this picture and the fact I was ever that little and that close to her to grasp her hand so tightly, 

I thought ---there it is---My message from heaven --- finding this picture stuck in a part of a book, and my mom saying, "I am still here. "

I took a picture of the picture and made it my phone screen saver, so that every time I picked up my phone that day I would see us together.

I went about the rest of the morning, got ready for work and started my workday at the counter where we buy books.

There was a stack of books that had already been dropped off by a customer before I got there. Her name was Patsy.

I finished evaluating the books and paged the customer. After a few moments I saw a lady making her way to the counter. I asked "Are you Patsy?" She smiled and nodded. I made her offer, she accepted it, and as I held out the pen for her to sign her buy slip, her hand appeared out from the long sleeve of her winter coat to reach for the pen.

And as she struggled to grasp the pen with her arthritic fingers and slanted swollen knuckles and then started signing her name...I....well, I

had to turn aside as I held in both the tears that had sprung up and the "Ha" of a laugh...

in seeing that Helen Jean, my mom, just wasn't done talking to me yet!

I wanted to double Patsy's offer on the spot! But, instead I just gave her a big smile and a heartfelt thank you for selling her books to us (on this day, in this hour). ?

On her way back out of the store, she stopped to pick up her boxes and as I handed them to her, her hand missed the bottom of the box and clasped mine, almost as tho we were holding hands. She said "Oh, I'm sorry!"

And I said "It's alright!

It's really alright...

"I'm alright"

That's (Indy) Cub

During my last hour of work a co-worker who is a huge fan of the Game of Baseball finished a buy and asked if I wanted a special edition newspaper filled with pictures of the Cubs winning the World Series. 
We looked thru it together and I said...
I'm getting a little verklempt just thinking about how magical that last game was...

I went to put some records out and saw a customer wearing a Bryant Jersey and as I passed by him I said, "We were just reliving that last game!"
"It was a great one!" He said with a smile."

I was in the back room, getting ready to leave and was paged to the register.
Ugh.
I called and was prepared to give the "I'm done...not here" response, when the co-worker from before said, "There's something you need to see up here."
I went to the register and he pointed out the window...
showing me this:

I turned around and the guy with the Bryant Jersey was nearby.
"Is that your truck?" I asked.
He nodded.
"Wow! That's commitment! Can I take a selfie with your truck?"

I came back inside and he was headed toward the door...
I then noticed that he not only had a Jersey on, but was decked out, head to toe, Cubs Jersey, belt buckle, shoes and socks!
I said "Thank You! That's the Best Thing I've seen all day!" And I shook his hand.

It's a good thing I saw this car while it was parked and I wasn't driving...
I may have crashed my car doing a double take or trying to get a picture!

The great thing is...
I posted on Facebook about seeing a FireFly and marveling at the wonder of those bugs and my friend Mary commented:

"May today be filled with uplifting sightings and events, and this evening be filled with a bevy of fireflies!"

Talk about an uplifting sighting!!!

Directions to here:


Bookstore secret:
Don't tell Boots or my Boss, but since the Cubs won the World Series...
Every customer that is wearing anything to do with the Cubs, gets an automatic 10% off when I'm running the register.

Picture Window

"When you get where you're goin'...
Don't forget turn back around.
Help the next one in line...
Always stay Humble and Kind."

Dear Mom,

On the Eve of my 53rd celebration of having you as my mom and our 18th Mother's Day of you journeying on ahead of us...

I am hoping that Heaven has a picture window.

I hope that you can see how this picture has changed.

How these Grands of yours have grown,

how many wives and husbands have been added,

how your Daughters and Sons have become awesome Grandmas and Grandpas

and how many Greats those Grands have added.

My goodness how this picture has grown!

I'm pretty confident that there IS a window...

or at the very least a mirror.

Because I see your beautiful smile,

your humble gentleness

and your wonderful kindness in each and every one of them.

We all love you 

and We all miss you.

💞

Happy Mother's Day Mom.

Directions to here:

The above quote is from the song Humble and Kind made famous by the country singer Tim McGraw.
But, you know what?
It was written by a mom.
Lori Mckenna is a songwriter and she wrote it as a simple prayer and a list of everything she wanted to make sure to tell her kids.

Another of the Greatest Generation has crossed over

Sometimes Facebook can really knock the wind out of you.

Today I was checking my newsfeed and about to go on with my day, when I read that a family member had passed away.

Bud Potter was one of the most kindest and gentlest men I've ever known.

I saw the words on the screen and I said out loud "No! Not, Bud! I wasn't done with Bud!"

One of the reasons I've wanted to move closer to family, is to be able to spend more time with people like Bud. He knew all the family that I had never met or was too young to remember. He knew their story and he had his own stories...and although I saw Bud from time to time...I never got to sit down and just listen to him.

Another Great from that Greatest Generation has crossed over to meet the others. 

God Bless you, Bud.

What 'Now' Looks Like

I know, Selfies...
Right?

I'm sure if you follow my facebook page, you can see that I think selfies are great.
So much that I've been rockin' them and cuttin' off heads since the days of 110 instamatic film.

2016.
A lot has happened in my head, in my heart, in my family and in our world.
I have been reading a lot. Writing a lot. Thinking a lot. Growing a lot.
I've changed.

One thing I've zeroed in and focused on is practicing mindfulness.
Zeroing in and being awake to the present moment and being aware.
Being present.
In the Now.

There must be at least a hundred blog posts and stories I've wanted to share with you that I have either written and haven't posted or written on paper and haven't transferred to screen, or recorded vocally on my phone, but not transcribed, or formed in my head, but not sat down to communicate.

And that brings me to the idea of the meaningful selfie.
There have been moments in the last year...

that I have not wanted to forget.
"Ah ha" moments. Moments filled with happiness, sadness, joy, fear, sorrow, silliness and gratefulness.
In these moments, I've tried to remember to snap a selfie....

to be reminded and to see...
what that moment looked like.
I am a visual learner. A memory keeper.
I want to remember....
What joy looks like on my face, what fear looks like, what gratitude looks like.

A visible reminder of
What the "now" looks and looked like.

Once I get this page back up and running,

I hope to share some of those many stories and blog posts with you....

but for now...
I'm introducing the idea of the meaningful selfie.

(too bad it's such a scary one ;)

Here's the story behind this selfie....

For two years now...
I've known that it is time for my life on Main Street to draw to a close and that I need turn and face north.
(That story is a whole other blog post).

So, in September...
I and the other residents of our apartment building got a letter from the landlord that he had sold the building to the Carmel Redevelopment Committee.
(yes, Main Streets fate is as bad as the name of that committee makes it sound)
However, I was not blindsided...
I was not frantic.
Sad...

yes, Of course.
I LOVE this building.
I LOVE this apartment.
I LOVE the lives that have crossed paths living here.

I do not want this building to be demolished.
But, if you know anything about what has been happening in any corner of Carmel,

we all knew it was coming eventually....
And, what a few years ago would have devastated me,

was not a huge blow,

because I had already made peace with the fact and resolved that my time here was coming to a close.

We were originally told we would need to be out by Dec. 31....

giving us a three month window.

But then, we were contacted by the City and told that they were extending our leases into the new year....and the very earliest would be Spring of 2017...possibly summer or fall.

So, the elephant was still in the room...

but not standing on our chests.
We eased on the fretting and packing.

We went on vacatons.
I went to Baptisms. I went to parties. I went to Sunday dinners.

All the while I kept purging and packing...

One neighbor went ahead and pursued other housing and just last week moved to another place.
I was amazed at how quickly it all happened for her.
But, I decided to spend December working on Family Christmas video and New Year's Party plans and then,

when the Sunday Dinner Martha's go off on their winter vacations...

I would hermit myself in Indy and focus on packing,
hoping to move in April...
And starting a new chapter around my Birthday...
Happy New Year to me!

So, imagine our surprise Wednesday night...

when we who are left on Main Street found a letter from the Committee in our mailboxes...

stating that the new date is NOT the spring as were had been told...
but it has been changed to Jan. 31. !!

Needless to say....We are not happy.

The moment you realized you've been screwed and double screwed.

(so that's what that looks like)

Directions to here:

Never, ever believe anything a politician or a Real Estate Developer tells you.


Directions to here:

Also: Vinyl is heavy.

Flashback Friday.....Claiming the Exclamation.

A little over a year ago, on Sept 24, 2015, 

I was standing at the register and could not contain my happiness and joy at the news that my brother found out, that after a long summer of thinking that cancer was in his lungs, a biopsy determined it was not cancer, but instead it was a lung infection.

So,
rather than dancing and shouting my Hallelujahs and scaring customers who lined up to pay for their books,

I took a pen and notebook and drew out my excitement, 

set it in front of me and smiled at it every time I felt like shouting:

"My Brother!"

That was a little over a year ago.
In between there has been celebrating, holidays, doctors appointments, scans, waiting, wondering, Sunday dinners, laughter, devastating news of others with cancer, funerals, births, more doctors, some aches and pains, birthdays, vacations, doctors with differing opinions, more scans, more waiting, more wondering, sunny days, rainy days, more opinions, more waiting...more wondering.

The wondering and wondering and wondering.

Through all this our thoughts run the gamut of emotions.
I don't know about you, but it is unfortunately easier for my brain to revert to doubt, caution and fear...

rather than hold on to the good, positive and hope.

I've read some about this and realize I'm not alone.

There is a thing called the Velcro/Teflon affect.
Which basically says our brains hold on to negative experiences like Velcro - they tend to stick.

and our brains treat positive experiences like Teflon -
they tend to slip away.

I am really trying to practice staying mindful and be intentional at turning this around.
Sitting with and being with what comes,
the possibility of good and the possibility of bad...
and letting it be.
But also,
having a mindset that rests by holding onto the hope and acceptance instead of the doubt and fear.

So, this week...

I am making this Exclamation Point the "lock screen" on my phone...

Using it as a visual and constant reminder to my brain to be mindful to hold on to hope...

instead of being consumed with fear.

Directions to here:

Goodwill Find...Perfect Timing

I had a pretty horrible day at work a few days or so ago.

Certain people, words, actions really....got to me, making me question where my fun, easy job went.
Sunday Dinner helped take my mind off it, but driving back to Indy was spent brooding and grrrrr-ing every mile.
Even more so, cause it was my dad's birthday and I was working....grrr.
I got to Indy and had 20 minutes or so to kill, so I stopped at the Goodwill.
I almost left and then this shirt popped out at me.

It's from the record shop that's in the hometown of my old boss.
The old boss that would constantly remind us:
"It's just books." 
I saw God wink and I heard Chris Turner​ say "Honey" and I laughed out loud and just like that I became the owner of yet another black t-shirt.
Burden lifted

Sunday Morning Coming Down....The Bluebird of Happiness

A few days ago,
I put a record on.
It was one of Helen Jean's records.
My Mom's record.
Perry Como on vinyl.
Helen Jean's record of Perry Como singing,
"In the Garden."

I thought about the recording of Grandpa Bryant singing,
"In the Garden" that Mom and I found in Aunt Carol's record collection.

I thought, 
what a gift that must have been for my mom to hear him singing.
I thought about the look on Aunt Mary's face when we played her the recording of it, the last time we went out to Maryland.
I thought of how it must have felt for them to hear his voice after he being gone for 40 some years.

I thought,
I'm just here listening to Helen Jean's records and how it would be nice to let others in the family hear Mom's Perry Como version of "In the Garden."
So, I lifted the needle, backed it up, dropped it and recorded the very end of the song....

"And the joy we share

as we tarry there,

none other has ever known."

The ending of the song was very slow and touching...
I pressed stop and smiled and sighed.
I saved it to post to Instagram.

Perry went right on into the next song...
And unfamiliar tune,
but I knew right away,
I should have kept the camera rolling ----
but, by the second or third line, I was weeping Beautiful/sad tears so hard I would never have been able to hold the camera steady because my whole body was shaking...
'cause it was so very obvious that I wasn't, 
"just listening to Helen Jean's records,"
 but that the heaven's had opened up and Mom and Dad seemed to have stepped right into the room.

The line that cracked open the door was the one about a Bluebird in the trees...
Because,
at one point in time, in my young life,
Mom had given me a deep blue glass Bluebird and told me:
"That is the Bluebird of Happiness."
I remember thinking, okay? Thanks?
I put it on my shelf in my bedroom, next to my rock and bottle collection.

Over the years,
I've thought about it now and then...
whenever I hear of or see a Bluebird mentioned.
But I never really figured out why she thought a pre-teen girl,
interested mostly in Little League and Starsky and Hutch,
would want a glass bird.
And why, she was so intentional about giving it to me and telling me its meaning.

And then I thought of how I had just had a really good and happy morning "on the couch" with my journal and my daily reading,
and how I am finally, FINALLY, beginning to grasp what it means to live in the moment, every moment, this VERY moment and to just sit with what is...
And the happy gratefulness and peace that comes from the practice of simply being awake, aware and present.

And I thought, THIS.
This must be all she and he ever wanted for any of us, all of us.
Happiness.
And at that moment,
all my wondering of what they would think of me now and my story...
my whole story...
just melted away;
because I knew in an instant that all parents ever really want for their children,
is for them to be happy.
And, Mom,
my mom....
she had looked forward and wished that for me so long ago,
when she gave a tweenager
(who still had sooooooo much growing up to do)
a Bluebird of Happiness.

Oh, Mom and Dad ---

I am reading my journals from the early 90s from when I was living at home and I think, how I would love to just have ONE of those days back.
I don't care what we would do,
I don't care if we just sat and watched TV all night long...
I would just love to be sitting in the same room with you.
To have lived more,
grown up more...
To know you now.
To talk about that Bluebird.

Thank you for giving me the Bluebird, Mom.
Thank you for all your hard work to make us happy, Dad.

And thank you for rushing in the other day,
bridging the distance,
and letting me know you see me,
see us.
That you are still here with me and with us
and that you love me and love us.

I love you too ----
and I miss you so much.

How grateful are we,
that we have been given the blessing of you --
and your legacy of love and happiness.

We all Love you.

May the Lord Bless You and Keep You

May the good Lord bless and keep you,

Whether near or far away.

May you find that long awaited, 

Golden day today...

May your troubles all be small ones,

And your fortune ten times ten,

May the good Lord bless and keep you,

Til we meet again....

May you walk with the sunlight shining,

An' a Bluebird in every tree

May there be a silver lining,

back of every cloud you see...

Fill your dreams of sweet tomorrows

Never mind what might have been.

May the good Lord bless an' keep you,

Till we meet again...

May the good Lord bless an' keep you,

Til we meet again.

(words and music: Meredith Wilson)

Directions to here:

I am embarrassed to say that the Bluebird has been buried on a shelf for the last several years.
(the symbolism of that, is a whole other blogpost in itself)
;)
I'm happy to say that I found the Bluebird and have moved it into the living room, to the window, next to the couch, where I can see it when I journal and read.

Flashback Friday...Chris' Cats

I've been herding Cats.
Ceramic Cats.
Just when I think I've corralled them all,
I open a box and find another.
You would think, with all these cats turning up in random places, that I'm a cat person.
I am not.

A long time ago, shortly after I started working at the Bookstore, I was showing off some "stuff" that I bought at an auction. One of the things was a metal "All" laundry detergent bucket from the days before soap in paper boxes or plastic jugs.

I can't remember if I brought the bucket into the store, or if I had it in my car, but somehow, my Boss, Chris, saw it and thought it was the coolest thing.
She said,
"That would make a great planter for my flower garden!"
I told her, 
"Here, you can have it!"
You would have thought I gave her a pot of gold, she was so happy to have that rusty bucket!

At about the same time, I was dreading having to ask her to change something on a schedule that had already been made. To my surprise, Chris made the change for me without hesitation.

I remember telling Sister Susie that 
"Buying that bucket and gifting it to my boss was one of the best dollar bills I ever spent at the Auction!"

From then on, every time I needed time off or needed to change my schedule, Susie would say, 
"Better get her another bucket!"

If you spent any amount of time with Chris, you would eventually find out that one dearest things to her, were her cats. She had several and would tell stories about each one of them, their history, their antics and their different personalities.

One day she showed up at work with a picture of a cat planter...like this:

She told me,
"Honey, if you're out antiquing and you see a cat planter like this, buy it for me, okay? I think it's cute and would like to have one."

From then on, I would pick up cats.
The first one I found, was a bit more sinister looking than the one she showed me. 

Whenever I went on vacation, I would bring back a a cat as a thank you for giving me the time off.


I had found the perpetual Bucket!

There were also Birthday Cats, Holiday Cats, Get Well Cats, Just Because Cats.

I mostly stuck with the "quirky cat" theme and made it my mission to look and find the
oddest and ugliest kitties that were out there. Some were so bad, they were good...in their own kitschy kind of way.

I like to think the assortment of artful cats I gifted her, was
a good representation of the odd lot of employees that Chris led on a day to day basis.
This all was happening back in the days when I was documenting my 
travels with my Bobble

Head Dog, which Chris got an absolute kick out of.

When we traveled 
together to Iowa for a Grand Opening, she showed up with a cat of her own, a traveling companion for Bobble.

I later upgraded her to an authentic Bobble Cat, which she named, Bobble Kitty. She velcro-ed him to the dash of her Ford Focus and he watched over her, head nodding to the beat, during her long daily commutes.

As Chris set a retirement date in her head, she quietly started clearing out her office, getting rid of stuff and taking home personal items. Her walls became less Chris hand written notes and more corporate typed memos. When she decided to change her date and retire six months earlier than planned, one day, I saw her getting ready to leave and she told me...
"Honey, I'm taking him home."

For some reason, even tho, I knew she still had a few weeks left at the store, seeing her walk out the back door with the first cat I gave her (the one with the tail that started as a plant clipping and refused to stop growing, even tho the light was bad and she never watered it)...
it hit me harder than her actual going away party and seeing her leave the store for the last time.


I thought that I had given her most of the cats I bought for her before she retired, but I knew there might be a few I hadn't.
I always liked to keep a few stashed away "on reserve" for special occasions or for schedule "emergencies."
"Please let me have this day off"....
..."and oh, look, here's a cat for you..."
Grin.
However, as I've been digging into the closets on Main Street, and opening boxes, I have found more than a couple cats. I'm keeping one ceramic cat to remember this crazy cat lady who I loved working for and beside.


After Chris retired, we often talked about me coming up to Fairmont for the day. She wanted to take me to the antique shop  down on the corner and to the record store she had often talked about.
Lisa and I did make it up to her house for a visit 

and finally met her REAL cats, but Chris and I never made it to the shops.

Time slips away.

The day of her funeral, I decided to park the car and take a walk down the street of the town where Chris grew up and of which I had heard her tell so many stories about.

I saw the record shop with the

"old black and white floor."

It was exactly as she described it.

I found the antique shop 

"down on the corner."

I went in to have a look around and it was like taking a walk down memory lane with an old friend.

I bought a tambourine.

And the quirkiest cat in the shop.

And I heard the Crazy Cat Lady say...
"Ha Ha....Yeah!"

Directions to here:

I find it very symbolic that this last cat is a bookend.
Chris' and my friendship started, deepened and played out with books as the backdrop.
A fitting reminder of a wonderful chapter in this book called life I am simultaneously reading and writing. 

Flashback Friday....Ten Years

In October of 2014, I went to visit old friends in the "way up there part" of Michigan. I drove up one side of the state...crossed over to Alpena, spent two days...

and came back down the other side.
I probably knew why I took this route before hand, but I didn't know if I would have time to do what was in the back of my mind.

I "wrote" this by recording my thoughts into my notes on my phone. I meant to post it upon my return, but never did.

It's been 10 years since my friend, Jolene's passing.
I thought it would be a good time to share about the special spot I visited on my way home from my Michigan Road Trip:

I knew when I left I would probably end up here at some point in time.

Since I ended up leaving from Lowell, I thought maybe it wouldn't happen. But, the return route took me too close to her hometown, not to stop.

I SHOULD have been at work.

I was scheduled to be at work instead of here. But, since I knew in the back of my mind I would stop,

I called and asked to take an additional half a vacation day.

It took me longer than it should have to find the place. I don't remember the cemetery being so small. I passed it twice going west. And finally, realized I could not find it because trees hide it from the east.

I thought I was just coming here cause it was the right thing to do.

Stopping, to say hello to an old friend.

Stopping, out of respect for she and her family.

Stopping, to see her name on a headstone; the stone that was yet to be set the last time we all stood here.

Awhile ago I read about why people leave coins on gravestones.

It's to let the living know that their loved one's grave has been visited.

After I finally found the cemetery and parked the car, I carefully counted out eight pennies and put them in my pocket.

I went to where I remembered standing the day of her funeral.
I went too far and the first stone I saw, was Baby Miller.

There were no other Millers in that row.

I thought, surely they got her a headstone?

I turned and saw the back of a brown stone.

As I came around the front of it,
there was her name:

I have been to a lot of funerals,
and I have walked my fair share of cemeteries.

But, I was not prepared for the catch in my throat and the instant tears upon seeing her name etched in granite.

I think of Jolene often.

I always mention her on the anniversary of her death. 

Every year, I go and get an ice cream cone during the week, because that is what I did that week in July of 2006.

I sit on the steps in the sun and remember this sweet girl.

So, it's not like I'm in denial that she is gone.

But, something about etchings in stone make things seem very real and very permanent.

The rain started to fall lightly, as if it was mirroring my tears.

I whispered, 

"Here you are."

"Hello, sweet girl.

"I thought I wasn't going to be able to find you."

And with that, I imagined her alive...
jumping up and down, waving her arms, flagging me down by the side of the road, saying:

"Here I am...

I'm right here!" 

And flashing that beautiful smile and laughing uncontrollably like she always did!
And with that, as quickly as the tears had come, I was now laughing out loud in the middle of the cemetery.

As I did, I smiled and thought, 
now this is like a real visit with Jolene!

I took the pennies out of my pocket,
I sat down on the grass in front of the stone and laid them on headstone one at a time.

One for each year that she has been gone.

I talked and talked and talked about the time that had passed.

2006...the year it happened

2007... all those weddings
2008...my Dad ♥
2009... all that happened...2010, 2011...
2012...changes at the Bookstore
2013...Chris ♥

2014...clarity, plans, the present and the future.

I stood back up.
I wondered about her family.

I wondered about her parents and their unimaginable grief.
I wondered if they still lived nearby and I wondered if they were in one of the cars that drove by while I stood there.

I thought about her nephews and prayed for the hope that even tho they were very young, they would never forget their Aunt Jolene.

I told her, I can tell that they love and miss her...
Because of the Flowers of Fall colors,
the solar lights, the statues, engravings with sayings...
The telltale signs of a person who is always loved, always missed.

The tears came again,
as I couldn't contain my sorrow for what might've been for this young lady. 

I felt anguished, as I apologized that she had so little time. So much life that she missed. I told her I had wanted so much more for her. 
I told her I still don't understand.
Because, I know, "God does not need another angel."
He doesn't "need her more than we do."
None of those answers are good enough.
I told her Lisa gave me the most peace, when she simply said:

"Nance, it was an accident."

I told her I will never understand...until we meet again. And, maybe even then, it still won't make sense.

I put my hands in my pockets and shut up.

I listened.

I was I reminded how at one point in time, I had given her permission to snap her fingers in front of my face if I got a little too grumpy or took things too seriously as a manager at the store.
She would, occasionally, do this...
walk up to me, two snaps...criss/cross in front of my face, flash that smile and laugh out loud.
And that was my cue to "snap out of it,
To lighten up.
To enjoy the moment.

I stared at her name.

I could see her smiling.

She knew that I was getting it....

That standing before the grave of a wonderful person, who died at the age of 23...
should make you think about your life.

I promised to do better.

I gave her full permission
that on the days that I think Life isn't enough, or the moments I waste away, waiting for a day off or the next big thing,
to get right in my face and snap those fingers,

Waking me up, reminding me,
I have this day.
I have this moment.
Do not take it for granted.
Do not waste it or wish it away.

I will remember this girl and what she wouldn't give to have just one more day.
To Be Alive.

To Be Present

To Be Here Now. 



Directions to here:

"Sweet girl, I know you are not here. 

The thought of the Earth or a Stone containing your spirit and soul is as laughable as your smile or your infectious personality.

But yet I am here.

I'm here to laugh with you, to cry with you, to remember you.
Thank you for listening and as always, giving more sweetness than we or life ever gave you.
These six words aren't enough.
But I will say them anyway.

I love you
I miss you."