In memorium

A few times a year we set apart special days to remember those who came before us, made sacrifices, etc.  Most of us see these as the third day of a three-day weekend.  I, too, have been guilty of this.  My goal this year is to be more diligent in showing the folks who the holiday is for more respect and go out of my way to thank them if possible.  I hate how flippant we have become as a society - how the greeting card companies have created extra little holidays in order to "boost" sales (like "sweetest day" - hello - Valentine's Day already exists!)...my goal is to be more real, more genuine.  I hope anyone who actually reads this will join me.  God bless our fallen and their families. May you find peace and comfort. 

Apologies for being a day late, but have been swamped with work and school - capstone and master's classes at the same time!

Easter, Part 3: "The Foyer"

The hand of God is in all things...I took this photo last year.  Do you *see* His hand?

Easter, Part 3: "The Foyer"
Preface to Installment 3:
There has been a lot of press lately about the afterlife.  It is important not to discount this telling of an important account of the afterlife just because it emanates from a child; Children are most precious in Heaven, as are souls of those burdened with physical and mental disabilities while here on Earth - their souls glow beyond belief and are perfect and beautiful and WHOLE there.  I have not read his book, nor seen anything other than a snippet of an interview (GMA or Today) on Youtube (we don't have cable TV, just watch old DVDs :). What has struck me about this account is that people want to believe...when my experience happened, I did not believe that anyone would want to or need to hear it, so I kept it largely to myself, embarrassed by it a little with the exception of a few family members...Over the years, when appropriate, I have shared a very few tidbits only to feel awkward later and wonder if the person thought I was off my rocker.   I can say that where I think my experience varied from his is that I was of an age where I had made decisions (sinned) and could be held accountable for them (as opposed to children, who are without sin in the Lord's eyes - although anyone trying to shop with a 3 year old might argue that point), I myself was not allowed to see the Saviour; although I clearly knew where I was, could feel His presence and knew why I was there, etc...
The Setting:
It is the evening of Friday, May 14, 2004 - a beautiful night - not too warm or cold. I am 3 months along and have lightly spotted (a small clot) two days earlier (just as I had in my last competed pregnancy), but am hopeful all will be well.  We are in Walmart after a brief Dr. appt. (showing everything was fine) and I finally this night have allowed myself to feel like we are expecting - to get excited about it.  We look at baby clothes ~ I have taken at least a dozen pregnancy tests and even quit my Grocery/Dept store management job earlier in the day (another story for another day) due to the pregnancy and the stresses it would bring, as I was older - at this time I was 36 years old.  I had two girls who were 12 and 16, and we were all excited and looking forward to spoiling the new baby.  The cell phone rang, I answered. It was the Dr. office telling me they "forgot" to run a quick test and could I come back?  So we returned, had a blood draw and went home - without buying anything for the baby ~ EVERYTHING HAPPENS FOR A REASON.  We got ready for bed, and my abdomen was tender, uncomfortable even.  As the night progressed, I had to take 3 extra strength Excedrin because the pain was really bad...I thought it was just due to the poking and prodding the Dr. had done...the mucus plug had still been intact, so it HAD to be okay, right? I had had another miscarriage several years earlier and although sad, there was nothing to it really in comparison to this- it just slipped away (~ that time I was only about 6 weeks along)...I took the meds and drifted off to sleep for a bit; Steve is in the front room on the computer - he can't sleep for some reason. It is about 10p.m.  He comes to bed after *seeing* me come in to where he was, although when he enters the room, I am asleep.
Fast forward to 2am May 15 (this is graphic, sorry):
I am in the bed, I have woken up as I need to turn over and feel a huge gush...I am losing this baby...I SOB cry quietly so as not to wake the girls, but somehow think I knew...maybe from the beginning, I was bleeding profusely, and Steve starts "delivering" the first of several large clots which look like pork loin roasts from me into a large bowl and flushing them, and returning for the next round.  There was blood everywhere - too much blood - it smells like death and I go in to the bathroom, where I move from the toilet to the bathtub and the separate shower - the cold water felt so good as I was burning up...this goes on for two hours...then I start throwing up - I cannot stop.  It is coming out of my eyes and nose as well; all the capillaries have popped around my eyes and my face...I recall thinking This is so not good...having watched enough TV, I realize that this is the point where we MUST call for help - Steven has been wanting to do this since the beginning, but I am stubborn and won't let him - I don't want to be a bother - it will stop right?
It is now 4am.  I had him wake my oldest daughter and bring me a pen and paper so I can write a will and a note to my children.  My father died at 37 with no will and I was NOT going to do that to them...She sat with me while Steven made phone calls to my mother and 911.  By now I am drifting in and out of consciousness - BOOM black and silence can't feel the pain I feel as though I have melted into the cold porcelain bathtub- BOOM- light and horrid pain and back awake am I still alive? again; I can hear my oldest baby in the background talking to me, trying not to sound frantic and feel her stroking my hand and petting my hair- "mama, stay with me mama, mama", I can hear Steven's voice talking to my mama - trying not to sound too panic-ish but trying to convey the seriousness of the situation, then talking to 911; finally I hear my mama's sweet voice a few minutes later - scolding in the most loving way possible.  The EMS went to the wrong house but Steve flagged them down - when they got to me they could not find any stats...I was green/blue and had no BP...I remember them trying to get readings by pumping and moving my arm and using their fancy gadgets and they still couldn't get anything - not manually either; they ran an IV and talked to me telling me to "stay with us" and I rambled apologizing for being semi-nude and trying to say "I'm trying" but who knows what came out...they get me on the gurney but couldn't transport right away - still trying to get me stable enough to go...we are on the threshold of the door in the entry of our home -which is fitting - and I had just enough left in me to say "I love you all.  I hope I see you soon." And with that, I was gone...
into a bright room with golden light, no distinguishable walls, out of focus a bit...I saw fuzzy at first figures who were familiar to me but everyone looked so good, vibrant, not sick, and some were younger than when I knew them; and I did not hurt, nor was I afraid.  I had the overwhelming feeling that I was welcome and safe.  It was like a foyer - the room before the Chapel when you go to Church.  I did not see any loved ones per say - I believe that this is so I would be free to make a decision to stay there or come back; had I seen them, I would have likely wanted to stay;  but I came back because my ties were so strong with my children and family and with my sweet Steven; I knew I had a lot of work to do to repair the harms that I had done, as well as have the chance to share with those who would listen, the message of finding joy in spite of our daily lives and the trials and tribulations that we all experience...during my time there, I did bounce back forth BOOM dark, pain, headache, throwing up, noises were unbelievably loud...- the next time my spirit was on Earth, we were outside on the street and the cool breeze felt so good- this gave them the green light to load me into the ambulance and transport me rather than pronounce me, which is what they were inclined to do as my bp was bouncing at 70/40 after two bags of saline and who knows what else...and then I was gone again; BOOM while in "the foyer", I was blessed to see a glimpse of times where I was better than I ever knew I could be - made decisions that helped others or blessed them - it was humbling though, not a bragging type of thing; BOOM in the ambulance, such a headache I begged for them to turn off the siren, which they did, but they kept the lights on - I kept throwing up and passing out;  BOOM in "the foyer" again - no headache, no pain, warmth and coolness all at once, peace;

This time, the room grew less bright, and a kind of closet appeared in the corner - I was shown the things that I am not proud of, the things you think you hide in a HUGE box in the darkest corner of the closet and hope that no one ever ever sees...I knew I didn't want to be stuck with those things for eternity, it felt like at that point this would be the only token or memory I would be allowed to take with me and it was not the one I wanted to hold on to...BOOM we are rolling into the ER, there are dozens of Dr and Nurses waiting for me...but I hadn't flat- lined yet - you have to have a reading in order to lose it - they hadn't pronounced me even though technically they should have - they didn't know what to do...they were essentially waiting for me to die so they could bring me back...there is little they can do until they can use their fancy machines...I'd had almost enough fluid to give me a steady bp of 70/40...I go in and out, but notice that in addition to all the staff, there are three figures in robes or long coats but not bright white ones like DRs wear - two women and one man....I understood them to be watching over me in the ER - they are not seen by anyone but me though...this is comforting as well as unnerving...they are talking about what will be happening and urging me to make a decision - to choose whether to stay here or go back to the pain-free warm/cool comforts of "the foyer"...had I not seen the closet and realized that I needed to clean it out so badly, I might have gone with them - I might have entered "the Chapel" area.  BOOM A nurse was trying to get my ring off, I am throwing up again - mostly bile and dry heaves really - in a HUGE stainless steel bowl that Steven is holding because no one else knows what to do - the Dr looked at her in horror and said that will not be necessary, ....BOOM I was back in "the foyer".  I was choosing to go back to live, the guide, if you will, seemed please in my decision as I could have chosen either way, but I had to return now, and would not be back for now...BOOM  I had made my decision - I shot right up on the table, startling everyone in the room - I threw off the finger monitor and spit on my ring finger, handed the nurse my ring and the Dr. took off her sweatshirt and prepped for surgery...we had to go back to the ER later that Sunday and they gave me more fluids, the same EMS guys were there and were angry that I had been released.  The Dr. remarked that I was the sickest patient she had had in a very long time, and that I was a fighter.  She also said that although green was a good color for me, she preferred I not wear it as a skin color from now on.  I agreed.
It took two months of monitoring for me to have normal hormone levels and 6 months for the blood to return to normal.  I never did have that blood transfusion, although  they put the flyer in my "go home" bag along with my other release papers... 
Thus I am ever grateful for the blessing of a second chance at life, for the knowledge that Steve and I picked eachother and knew eachother before this life - that we KNEW how hard it would be and still chose to go through all of this to find eachother, and that if we do what we are supposed to do, we will be together in the next life. I want that. Because of a tormented childhood and the residual effects, I spent many years alone, thinking that God did not care or hear my prayers....I couldn't have been more wrong. He never gave up on me - even when I did...God is so much more involved in our lives than we ever give HIM credit for...HIS grace is infinite.  Just writing this brings the humbling experience right to the top of my mind again, like the cream rising to the top :)   So, the next time you think you may have seen or met an angel, remember this:  There are those among us who look but do not see...and then there are those who see without looking.  Stay tuned for more...blessings to you all.

Easter, Part 2: Skeleton Key to Heaven

Lot's Wife rock formation on the Dead Sea

(Please read Easter Part 1 first and Part 3 later today)
As a teenager, I went through all the normal struggles...I tried this and did that...things I am not proud of but will not deny or explain/expound upon - to deny any one of the things I have done or been through would be denying myself for who I am today...and although far from perfect, I am a work in progress...some of the finest art in the world was painted over simpler, more crude first works of art - called over painting -why should it be any different for us?  I have repented for and been forgiven for these mistakes by Him, so any other judgments are unimportant although my human brain still torments me with the memories from time to time.  Where possible, apologies have been made an accepted, and forgiveness granted - on both sides of the instances in question.  This is an important concept:  While the judgments of others and their comments might sting and hurt our feelings, God is the one who matters.  If we have truly repented - which includes attempting to make restitution where possible, no one else is entitled to an opinion - unless we LET them be.  This goes along with another important concept - One that we learn from the story of Sarah and Lot (Genesis 19).  When God instructs them to leave Sodom and Gomorrah, he tells them not to look back.  Of course, Sarah looks back and turns into a pillar of salt.  We take this literally, as the biblical portrayal illustrates, but this is a good allegory for us today.  When you leave sin, DO NOT LOOK BACK.  Look forward - move beyond the sin.  We must leave it behind to complete the repentence process. 

In Genesis 3, God makes Adam and Eve leave the Garden of Eden - because they have sinned, they can no longer dwell in his presence.  This is one of the sources of our doubt that the atonement works - if God banned them from His presence, knowing that they had to break one rule to keep the other - then how can he forgive me for___________?

As much as I love peeps and chocolate peanut butter eggs, Easter is about the Atonement.  If we look up the word in the free dictionary we get this:
a·tone·ment  (-tnmnt)

n.

1. Amends or reparation made for an injury or wrong; expiation.

2.

a. Reconciliation or an instance of reconciliation between God and humans.

b. Atonement Christianity The reconciliation of God and humans brought about by the redemptive life and death of Jesus.

3. Obsolete Reconciliation; concord.

 

If we break it down another way, the purpose becomes clearer:  At One Ment.  The ability to become one in purpose with Christ. The ability to put aside our human form - to allow the sacrifice the Lord made for us - dying on the cross to pay for our sins - to work in our lives.  The price has already been paid.  Not allowing or accepting His gift is foolish, yet we all struggle with it. The rather intangible nature of the gift makes it harder to accept.  If we were at the McDonald's drive-thru and someone in front of us paid for our food, we would accept this; we might think it odd, but we would accept it.  Why then can we not accept the most precious present of all - eternal life?  The biggest obstacle is forgiving ourselves...I struggle with this every single day...if only I had done this....if only I hadn't....these are the things that keep me awake at night.  The following comes to mind:

Luke 18:25-27 (King James Version)

 ²⁵For it is easier for a camel to go through a needle's eye, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God.
 ²⁶And they that heard it said, Who then can be saved?
 ²⁷And he said, The things which are impossible with men are possible with God.

We cannot buy or barter our way in to Heaven.  The world tries to sell us on a lot of different keys:   wealth, fame, long life, beauty, physical attributes, etc.  However, there is only one key that truly fits.  Humility is the skeleton key to Heaven, and accepting His sacrifice gives us a turn of the key.
If you want to know HOW I KNOW, read Easter Part 3, later this evening.

Easter Part 1: Chocolate bunnies, crosses, and ham, oh my...

Easter

So many emotions in one word. Chocolate bunnies, dyeing eggs, hiding them and watching with more joy than the kids when they find them.  Church, faith, religion...these things are secondary to us today...but why?  Why is it so accepted that we gorge on chocolate, green bean casserole, and ham ~ but people get a little uncomfortable when you talk about Christ, about His sacrifice...?  I submit that it is more an uncomfortableness with the uncertainty of death rather than a failure of faith.  Most Americans believe there is a "Supreme Being" somewhere in the Universe...it seems to be the address that is more the question.  Does he live within us, does he live on a planet like ours, in a spaceship, does he have a body or is he a ghost?  Are these stories allegories ~ or can he really see everything?  Our finite minds simply cannot comprehend this.  I could go on and on...but we are all familiar with the theories and arguments.  There are as many belief systems as there are stars because truly we each put our own spin on what is taught in Church every week or month or year.  We also don't like to be told how to live and what to do...so, with our proudness and our stubbornness, we march through our lives, allowed to revel in the it-can't-happen-to me-naivete until BOOM...One day, it does.  The horse-blinders come off and Death knocks on the door.  It may be a parent, a beloved pet, a neighbor's spouse thank God it wasn't mine or a child.  Death is never easy.  It is particularly difficult when it is someone so young, so vital.  The amazing part is, God is right there, we don't have to go far, but we sometimes don't allow him to be there because we feel guilty that we haven't spoken - not unlike the scolding we get from Mom when we failed to call remembering her birthday or Mother's Day.  We want to, but feel somehow like we can't or don't have the right.  He is there every minute of every day.  We pretend in our daily lives that He can't see us because we can't see Him - not unlike a child playing peek-a-boo.  Just as any kind parent does, He plays along, not wanting to burst our bubble.  And, like any good parent, He knows when to intervene.  The simplest things we take for granted are really miracles, just on a smaller level.  The girl on the way home, pauses to turn at a familiar spot...she used to go there with her father, who died 3 years earlier...but then the car would be going the wrong way in front of the house, so she continues on...right in front of here BOOM...a huge old tank of a car hits the back of a Jeep waiting to turn...had the girl not paused, the tank would have pushed the Jeep right on top of the car the girl was in. Coincidence?  Not a chance.  Miracle.  Plain and simple.  Want to know HOW I KNOW?  Read Easter Part 2 later today, and  Easter Part 3 tonight.  All His best blessings to you and yours this day:  FIND JOY.

One of two events that CHANGED My Life!

SO seems like a lifetime years ago, I was reading for whatever crazy reason Mademoiselle Magazine*.  I came across an article by then senior editor, Ellen Weller.  As a teenager, I had struggled with the awkward weight and height imbalances like we all do, and at that point not unlike now I was wider than taller....so I had some issues with self-esteem.  Here is the article that forever changed my perception of myself.  I hope that perhaps it can help you as well:

"As much as you can, also stop wondering what kind of impression you're making every time you meet someone.  Stop doubting that your sexy side exists, or thinking that it's something that's alive and breathing only when you're out on a date.  Think instead of the way you feel when you're inside your house, all alone, the sky is blue with no clouds, and it suddenly feels like warm weather~even though it is still March and raw outside.  You open the windows a little; you stand and stretch like a cat and it feels like lust and confidence stirring in you.  You feel the equal of any curvaceous sexpot, or better - you're more dimensional, you've got more soul, and at that moment it doesn't matter a good hoot what people at the office or your mother or the mailman thinks of you.  All that counts is the satisfied image you have of yourself at this moment, how sure you are this second that you are desirable and desirous.  That little current of human electricity surges through you.  Now:   Take that feeling, that conviction, that self-assurance, however tentative it may seem; take it out into the world."

SO, although I am sitting here looking more like Susan Boyle but feeling like Marilyn Monroe thanks to my wonderful husband, here is what I learned:

Sex-appeal is not defensive; it is NOT self-obsessed:  It is outer-oriented, but eminates from within.

Marilyn once said:

"No one ever told me I was pretty when I was a little girl. All little girls should be told they're pretty, even if they aren't."  I say, beauty aka self-esteem is in the eye of the beholder and as mothers it is our job to make our daughters behold themselves for the wonderful worth and potential they have-not to feed or foster their insecurities or pacify ours.

(*It was on page 236 - which issue which year I don't know...lol)

Home Sweet Home

The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.
~Maya Angelou~

There are countless axioms regarding home and the emotions the word conjures up in us all.  For me, the 4 hour trip from Reno over the Sierra mountains through the forest woods to my grandparents' home was the epitomy of this feeling.  For the reasons one might imagine, things were not always pleasant at my house when I was growing up...we lived in a not so great neighborhood where "things" happened to all of the children at the hands of neighborhood predators...
but going to Grandma's house, knowing that she would have fresh sheets that smelled of clean innocence, warm buttered bear-claws for breakfast, and all the hugs and all the stories I could listen to...falling asleep listening to mama and gramma talking into the wee hours of the morning. It was the best.  From my earliest memories, I recall feeling such a sense of peace when we would travel there.
It is a bit peculiar that I felt this way about going there because I had some health issues which were magnified by being there:  I suffered from terrible allergies to the cat(s), chickens, and dogs they had, the black walnuts in the yard, fresh fruit, and all of the unusual molds, pollens, and other things that Northern California had to offer.  I should have had tubes put in my ears had they known to do that back then - instead, the tonsils and adenoids came out at age 6 - in an effort to try to curb the ever present ear aches, nose bleeds that lasted for hours, etc...all epic failures as my daughters would say.  Grandma used to tell me "Now, Shelli Anne, don't you bleed on my couch!"
SO, the realist in me knows all of these facts, but the Pollyanna in me just remembers the wonderful talks and rides in the car with Grandma (I am sure everyone else was there as well), playing in the yard without worry of...being at peace with myself and the world - really, being without a care.  For me, this was my childhood "home" - not where I lived, but where I, as in Maya's quote, above, felt safe and at home.

Drama free zone here, others need not apply...kthnxbai.

PUBLIC NOTICE: I was accused by a person I thought was a friend of posting a recipe that was hers, which I promptly removed and deletd from my blog and all websites, even though the place I got it did not mention her and I gave that site credit for the posting. I am not a fan of drama as most of you know and this person has decided to ban me from her site and unfriend me - even though I explained and she admitted having sold the recipe previously. I am only making this public because I do not want there to be any mistake that I did anything with the intent to harm or hurt but was merely answering a question asked earlier on a group and then by a family member.

Whelmed...

I have enjoyed the art of being "whelmed" in my life.  I do it to myself - either because of my A.D.D. or because I simply cannot say no...So right now, I have to "just say no" to posting for a couple of days while I finish my finals for this term.  Hope anyone who happens to actually read this understands...thanks in advance for your patience :)

Fidelity, honesty, integrity and common sense...not so common anymore.

We fail to recognize the simple lessons taught by one of my favorite philosophers, Wile E. Coyote the image here:  choices have a result - decisions have gravity....It has always amazed me how people can rationalize in their heads doing certain things that normally would cause them to shake their heads ~ especially if they witnessed someone else doing it!  In this Jerry-Springer-drive-thru-disposable-instant-gratification-Veruca-Salt-world of "I want it now", people seem almost at ease in making snap irrevocable decisions as if there is no that seem to have no consequence. 
My favorite pet peeve right now (I have many, as you will learn if you follow this blog...) is people holding conversations which ought to be private in the middle of the grocery store...really?  You are discussing "who your baby daddy is?" in the produce section?  It is even that much better if they are on a cell phone, because then you don't know who the other person is...potentially could be another baby daddy candidate!  Scandalous (- isn't that the name of a rapper btw?  If not it should be- ha)...!  It used to be that you could assume I was speaking of folks closer to the inner city Milwaukee area, but guess what...this was a mid-20's WHITE woman in a dress suit talking about this about two months ago...Is that what it is like to be single now - "I think I will have a cucumber today, but oh that green pepper, well...we'll have to keep it mind for tomorrow"...Yikes! (insert picture of Wiley Coyote here) !?!
A close second on my pet peeve list is Facebook posts of a personal nature and "check-ins".  Just for fun, I would love to create a fake profile and check in "Jane Doe has just checked in at the toilet".  This app has brought bragging and narcissism to a new level...seriously I could not care less where you are unless you are my kid or family or we have a meeting that you are missing or late for!  And as for private things, like someone cheating on someone, taking this to a public forum especially if you are a third party to the cheating and not directly involved like facebook is just shameful and ridiculous; it is embarrassing for all concerned and there is nothing hilarious or entertaining about it although the producers of Jerry Springer and the like would debate me on that one.  People have been hurt, killed, or committed suicide over bullying, which can't be seen as much different that this type or targeting or calling someone out.

I want to know who killed to Golden Rule?

I have drilled this into my girls to the point of eye-rolling:

"Never give up what you want most for what you want right now."

Of course, that would work with dieting too...bleh...

Healthy banter vs. adversarial ranting...and such...

As a student of law working toward my Master's in Public Administration, I often find myself on the unpopular side of the issues.   I am used to it, having been in supervisory/management positions nearly everywhere I have worked.  The disdain I sometimes fetch is not limited to strangers...even my oldest daughter tends to avoid talking to me as much because we disagree on a few things...like what is going on in Madison, Wisconsin, right now with the Unions and Gov. Scott Walker...'nuff said.
My parents and nearly everyone I knew growing up and in my religion tended to see things on the right, & that was what I had always "identified" more with, so I never really thought of myself as a feminist or as outspoken ~ until a few weeks ago...that same oldest daughter told me she "missed" that about me (to which my brain went - hunh, really?).  Then this happened:  A schoolmate also suggested I join a group for Liberal Law Students (It is a conspiracy!?!)  Which I did not do...not because I am either way when it comes to politics, but because if you claim to be either, then they accuse you of waffling later on if you vote against or for something that historically the party has been against...since I will hope to be in Public Administration in the near future (God willing), I think it best to refrain from associating with either group too completely.  When it comes to voting in elections, sometimes I would like it if I could just vote "present" ~ the way they can with many issues in Congress. 
When I make decisions, I try to take each item before me on a case by case basis, without prejudice, in fairness to all most parties concerned. This should not be mistaken for the absence of a personal opinion, however.  I just have learned that there is a time and place for that - in my case, I only express them privately to my family.  I go about my duty as I should, with the interest of the company or entity in the forefront of my mind.
I guess in my old age, now that I am an "old married lady", I don't feel the need to be as assertive in my views in general - only when it comes to things I deem to be "really" important...like our government not being controlled by big business OR unions.  I cannot and will not sit idly by while travesties plague our great country!
I wish there were a third party, called the "most best right thing for everyone" party...I guess since we can't agree on that due to the vast difference of life experiences we all have, I will just have to keep being a little outspoken...hopefully I haven't just ranted but have stirred up a healthy banter :) 
To be or not to be is the question ~ a Republicrat or Demoblican?

Two sides to every story...

Finals week...only three terms to go after this & I will have my B.S. in Legal Studies!!!
I am just finishing up Public Administration and Management and Administrative Law.  I have loved the Master's class, but the law class was pretty good as well.  As someone who has often been in management and leadership roles, it strikes me as funny the things that I have taken for granted in my life.  For example, it never occurred to me that perhaps I couldn't do something - I was raised to believe that I was just as capable and smart as the next person....it never occurred to me that I did not have the skill set to complete any undertaking.  Failure was not an option - I am my Father's daughter. That is not to say that I don't experience failures - I have certainly had my share.  What it does mean is that I have tried, in everything I have ever done (with the exception of my personal life-another story for a different day perhaps), to do my best - and I have taken pride in doing a good job, in giving my employer a good day's work for a good (not always) day's pay.  Obviously, in studying the law and the political process in the United States, I have come across some shocking things.  I have also come across some really heart-warming moments as well.  Times where we, as a people, were better than we ever thought we could be.  For every horror story we heard about Hurricane Katrina, I can point to some wonderful moments in humanity; for every injustice that victims have endured when the bad guys gets off on a technicality, I can show you a juvenile that was able to be rehabilitated and is a productive and fruitful member of society.  There are two sides to every story, and I am struck by the naivety that anyone thinks they know it all.  You can learn something from everyone you encounter - even if it is how NOT to be.  Sometimes that lesson is just as important as learning who you DO want to be.  I want to be me, but BETTER.  I pray for that every single day.

Time does not heal all wounds, rather, it turns them into something else...WHAT is entirely up to you.

"It is amazing how day by day the time crawls and all of the sudden, it has been a month, then 6, then a year...until the fond memories are all you have and the pain seems to nearly disappear - not that you miss her any less, but rather, she becomes a part of your soul and you carry her with you wherever you go."

I wrote this to my friend the other day as she discussed with some sorrow that her puppy had been gone for a month now.  Although I wrote it for her, but was thinking about the losses I have had in my life.  While sad, the most recent, my grandmother in 1999, was bittersweet.  Perhaps this is why I can be so Pollyanna about it.  She had MS and suffered so much through the last few years that death was a welcome relief to her body and soul.  Our sadness was really of a more selfish nature - we would miss her.   She was the glue that held us all together and in the years since her passing, that has become more and more evident.  She made us all want to be better and do better and was always willing to lend an ear and an encouraging word.  She had this amazing way about her; although uneducated, she was one of the smartest women I have known, for she knew just what to say and do to make us all want to succeed while she was alive.