A Question For The Tooth Fairy

What the heck am I supposed to do with all these teeth? Make a freakin' necklace out of them? It's a bit disgusting truth be told.

My Bread Machine!

Friends, GOOD NEWS!!! Today I made bread in my very own bread machine thanks to my new best friend, Becky R. She just happened to have a bread machine taking up too much space and decided the real estate was more valuable than the bread machine. So I helped her out. And took her bread machine home with me. And made my first loaf of bread. I can't wait to try out more recipes!

Not only have I gained another appliance, but I rediscovered some really cool ones I had hidden away and figured out how to work one that I never used in 10 & a 1/2 years because I thought someone bought us a broken mini food processor for our wedding present but it turns out it wasn't broken after all, I just wasn't smart enough at the time to figure it out. (wow, I get the run-on sentence award for that beauty). So, in acquiring a bread machine, I discovered a slushy maker, mini food processor, & an espresso/cappuccino machine! What a rewarding day!

Fun At Jellystone

More Pics of Jellystone Camping

Sudoku, Boston, & More Waiting

For those who haven't been hooked yet, take my advice: don't even start. It only takes one time to get addicted. And when you can't manage to fill in the grid completely on the "hard" level consistently (fully knowing there is an even harder level beyond it), you will feel stupid. And feeling stupid will lead you to feeling inadequate. And inadequacy will lead you to self loathing. And self loathing will lead you to violence. Besides emotional bondage you will develope neck pain and headaches. And you will swear those really bad swear words which tend to always be satisfying when released. So lets close the door on Sudoku. I can't even spell the word.

And say "goodbye for now" to my little brother who heads off to Boston tomorrow. I am the proud sister to a very gifted vocalist. For the next two (plus?) years my "music man" will attend Boston Conservatory. He will get his master's degree in vocal performance. I am so excited for him and admire him for his passion and drive. And I would love to go visit him and Boston! I've never been to Boston in the Fall (or at any other time). He will live 20 minutes away in a cute New England town called, Manchester By The Sea, (not to be out-done by our Manchester By The Conawago, according to my dad). So my music man will be leaving, and who knows where Dan will be by the end of the hurricane season (he plans on surfing up and down the coast during these months). Luke and Gretchen are still in Indiana. Are all the Smokers scattering?

And still I wait, being a complete annoyance to our Maker. I'm groaning and moaning and complaining. I'm ignoring Him and blaming Him and praising Him. I'm a complete mess! But can you blame me? I'm not sure if I should look forward to my favorite time of year or not! I love the Fall! But do I have a job or not? I'm still waiting to hear. I can't plan church involvement yet because I don't know if I'll be working during the day or in the evenings, if I'll be working at all. Do I dare to admit this? I was thinking about joining the Mom to Mom group at church! (which if you know me you know that scares me to death - coming in contact with other moms). And I'd write about things with my hubby's work, but I can't right now. Let's just say he's waiting too. All I see is a complex Sudoku grid that needs to be filled in. And God hasn't given me many numbers to count on. And the more I think about it, the more I'm wondering if he's taking those numbers away. Is he enjoying this?

GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Summer Fun - Odd Isn't It?

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It's odd, having fun. It's a crazy thing to be barely surviving the desert of my spiritual life while having a blast doing various summer activities. On one level, we're experiencing life the way we want to. On another level, we're experiencing life the way it was never meant to be experienced. But that's life for all of us. The good and the bad, beautiful and ugly, peaceful and horrific. And sometimes, when life is especially strange, some of those opposing things blend, making for a very odd-tasting milkshake.

We have been having fun this summer. We've been keeping busy with camping trips and a weekend Raystown trip. And although yesterday we tried hard to come up with a way to make it to the beach, it looks like we'll be headed to Jellystone Campground where camping is at it's finest. Waterparks, go-cart tracts, cable hookups, cement pads (for those non-campers, a cement pad is on the ground - makes for a better foundation), fun pools, an awesome gamehouse, plenty of activities to keep the kiddos entertained ... the list is magnificent. We head there tomorrow.

We just got back from camping with my parents and brother Dan. That was the first time we all camped together since our Chincoteague days when I was a kid! We had a blast fishing and paddleboating (where a handicapped little duck wanted desperately to be adopted by us, the paddleboating family. He kept following our little boat, even making tight circles when we did!) We saw deer and a cute turtle, were awaken by the crows every morning (how I wanted the bbgun hunter to take care of that annoying situation) and ate icecream at the little restaurant type thingy. Dan was the proud angler who caught his own bait (the fish were the size of goldfish just about), and Hurricane EE never tired of giving Dan fishing advice and giving him play by play action of his fishing expertise (sorry Dan). Little Miss practiced her photography skills and nearly got herself a free trip the ER when a piece of bark landed itself in her eye - that nasty mean tree!

Little Miss hosted a Girls Only picnic where they made journals (hmmm, who came up with that idea?) aggression cookies, and played on the slip-n-slide. What a fun day! And I survived it!

Life is not all grief. Not all fun. It's a mixed bag. My goal is to try to capture the realness of life, to experience it all. To hold tightly to these moments as they happen, and let them go when they pass.

Tell Me

It's been a hard 3rd month. I haven't written as often as I usually do - just look to the right at the archive. But it wasn't because I was dealing with the pain of grief. I was numbing it. Escaping from it. And it worked - sort of. I escaped through normal means. I submerged my mind in other people's stories - in reading a lot of books. I escaped through vacations, family, and in other, not-so-healthy ways. I couldn't manage to get angry at God and "have at it" with Him, so I avoided Him, and walked blindly into a wasteland. I look back at it now and recognize the quiet rebellion. It shouldn't take me by surprise - but it does. Isn't that how I normally rebel? Quietly, slowly hardening my heart in order to dull it's senses? I'm angry. Oh man am I angry. I'm too practical to shake my fist at God and curse Him. But I'm wrestling Him anyway. And this past month, this chunk in time, tells me just how angry I am.

I read that there are certain times in grieving where it is more painful - anniversaries, her birthday, holidays, and even certain months. Month 3 was noted to be one of those tougher times. As I was going through it I would have disagreed. There were times I didn't even think of her. I couldn't feel anything - it was like I viewed the situation (when I thought of it at all) without any emotion. I was numb. And I was thankful. Being just a friend and sis-in-law gives me an unfair advantage that my brother and her family don't have. I've enough distance from her to distance myself emotionally if I wanted to. I didn't see her everyday. I didn't talk to her all the time. To go a few days without thinking of her now is like any normal day before the accident.

Recently, God snapped me back to reality quickly, before things got out-of-hand. Normally I've sensed Him off to the side, quietly waiting for me to come to Him. I made a foolish decision and God mercifully called out me on it. He stepped out from the peripheral and interceded in a way that humbled me greatly. He gently took my face in His hands and made me look at Him. That's when the grief started to seep back in.

I met with my mentor last week. The timing was perfect. At the end of our time together she told me about her week with her grandkids. She had four grandchildren stay with her. Her one grandson isn't a big eater (sounds like Hurricane EE) and sometimes he refuses to eat supper. One evening he did just that. My mentor was in the kitchen and kept calling to him to come to her. He kept putzing around on the recliner, then made his way over to the sofa, but he wouldn't go to her. Finally she had to put him in a time-out. When she went to him she asked him why he wouldn't come to her when she asked him to. He said, "I thought you were going to make me eat supper." She said she wasn't going to make him eat supper, all she wanted him to do was for him to come to her and tell her.

Tell Me. That's what God's been waiting for all this time. He's been sitting beside me while I read book after book. He's been sitting beside me in the car. He's been sitting on the toilet seat while I take a bath. He's been sitting on the floor beneath my window while I try to get to sleep at night. He's been waiting for me to tell him what it's been like for us, for me, to have Michelle taken from us. He's been waiting for me to unload every ugly, painful, and odd memory and emotion onto Him. I honestly didn't even consider doing that until my wise friend told me her story with her grandson. I thought God was okay with just observing me - that it was enough for Him to hear me praying for those she's left behind. I told Him a while back that He's invited in on every thought (I know He can eavesdrop anyway so why not just let Him in?). Our conversation is open-ended throughout my days. He knows that. But I guess in Month 3 I closed Him off to just about everything.

I'm reading Jodi Picoult's book, Change Of Heart. In it a mother goes to meet the death-row inmate who killed her daughter and husband for a "victim-offender mediation" meeting. I thought the following sentences from her book were profound for the very situation that I'm in now.

"Victim-offender mediation is a process that gives a victim the chance to meet her offender in a safe and structured setting," Abigail explained. "The victim will be able to tell the offender about the crime's physical, emotional, and financial impact. The victim also has the chance to receive answers to any lingering questions about the crime, and to be directly involved in trying to develop a plan for the offender to pay back a debt if possible-emotional or monetary. In return, the offender gets the opportunity to take responsibility for his behavior and actions." (pg. 170)

I know I'm not a victim and God's not an offender. Not in the true sense and the true perspective. But from a hurting & grieving perspective, sometimes it's just easiest and most satisifying to picture it like that. I started to tell God. Last night I sat down with my notebook and wrote. I asked Him a lot of questions He's not answered yet. I told Him about that night in the ER. How those scenes play back over and over and I don't want them to but I'm afraid to forget them just the same. I told Him I just want to be done. I want to be done with the grieving. I don't want Dan to hurt anymore. I want her family to be whole. I told Him that I still can't believe it's happened. And I told Him I'm sick of waiting. That the stresses of everything is just too much. I keep giving it to Him and He keeps giving it back to me. It's like neither of us wants it. It's a big stinking hot-potato! I just want Him to fix it. Fix it and be done with it. Fix this mess God! Give us peace and quiet minds.

So I asked God last night after I packed up my notebook and headed back to bed, "So now what?" I'm still asking Him that. I'm finding that most of my walk with God is me not knowing things and Him not telling me until the last moment. I heard someone say, "God's never early, but He's never late. He's always right on time." I wish His timing and my timing were the same!

Why is it that there are very few christain songs that deal with crappy stuff? (just a thought that's been plaguing me lately). Why don't some christain songs end without a resolution? That's life. Moments don't always end with the right conclusion. That's why I like the song, You Found Me, by the Fray. I write in the moment. The stuff I write now will not adequately express the place I'll be at in the next moment, or tomorrow, or a few years from now. But that's okay. I can feel confident that God loves me in this moment because that's just what it is, just a moment. I'm His work of art that He's still working on. I just wish christain songs would be more real.

* I added 2 new songs to my playlist - Closer To Love & Ocean Wide.