Today I share someone else’s story. A story about the never-ending love when you are a Daddy’s girl –  forever. Thank you my sweet cousin for sharing your story. He was so very special to me also.

I will never forget this day. It was the day before Daddy died and he asked to go out and sit on the front porch for a while. This was also my birthday, and yes,  Dad went to be with Jesus the day after my birthday. I remember being so upset knowing it wouldn’t be long and that I didn’t want my Daddy leaving me on my birthday. I believe with all of my heart that he found the strength to somehow hold on  just one more day…… just for me.

The first strange thing that happened that day was that he was sitting in a chair right beside the front door on the porch.  It was as far as he could make it and I was on the other end of the porch in the swing. He looked at me and said, “Now how old are you today Sissy?”  I said, “I’m 35”  but in my mind that day,  at that moment, I felt like I was five again. I was Daddy’s little girl.  Most would think this was strange but for Daddy,  it wasn’t. He could never remember any of his kids’ birthdays. Mommy would always have to remind him, although I knew that no one mentioned it to him, because we didn’t want him to worry about it. Whenever Mommy would tell him it was our birthday? He would always try to make it special. We all knew he was too sick to make this one special –  or so we thought. He ended up making my last birthday with him the most memorable and special birthday of all.

To keep Daddy from seeing me cry,  I stepped out into the yard like I was playing with my dog, Harley,  at least until I can get myself straightened up. I looked up at Daddy just sitting there enjoying the outside that day. Even though it was June 25th,  it was a very nice day. It wasn’t too hot and it wasn’t too cold, it was just a perfect day. During this time, I noticed a beautiful butterfly flying around Daddy. It was purple and yellow (purple is my favorite color).  It was the prettiest butterfly I had ever seen. I don’t think he even noticed it but I remember thinking of the tale about what it means if a butterfly lands on you somewhere? like your shoe or whatever?  you would be getting a new pair of shoes!  So I kept watching this butterfly to see where it was going to land.  It just kept circling around Daddy.  I remember thinking – “he doesn’t need anything new,  because I knew he wouldn’t be here much longer, so why would he need anything?”  I knew this sounded silly, and I was even thinking it the whole time it was going through my mind. Just then, the butterfly landed right on  daddy’s head! It seemed like it was there forever. It was then that God spoke to me and said your Daddy is going to have a brand new body. No pain,  no more tears –  he will be made “brand new.” The feeling that came over me was such a peace that mere words could never describe. It is the very reason that I love butterflies, they will always be special to me. A reminder…. that God makes all things new.

And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away. Revelation 21-4

I love to share great stories with you! I especially love it when God directs us to share and then to share again. And I especially love to be a part of great surprises!!!

Thank you to my wonderful friend for doing this painting for my cousin…. I know she will LOVE LOVE LOVE it – her story and your vision.. a God combination that turned out beautifully and will continue to minister to all that beholds it. God is faithful in all things, and she will have a visual to retell the story many times over. >3

I wasn’t all that excited to go back to a full-time job. Although it was at my daughter’s private school and I knew most of the staff, it would be a different role for me, assisting the Kindergarten teacher. If I had known earlier the things I would learn from this group of energetic five-year olds? no doubt, I would have enlisted sooner.

The teacher was new at the school, but I would learn early on that we were a great team. She continues to be one of my dearest friends. We learned a lot together that short year. I think we learned more about ourselves through this particular class than we could have imagined. I am thankful every day for that opportunity.

I first learned that five-year olds are still pretty much babies…but DON’T call them one. It was hard for me not to refer to them as such, since I still referred to my then third-grader as my baby. You can rest assured that I was corrected by the little people more than once.

Maybe, this is the reason that my teacher friend referred all instances such as boo-boo’s, snotty noses, and separation anxieties to my desk. (I’m giggling). She knew I was an over-nurturer and what we often referred to me as “the softie”.  I, in turn, referred to her the disciplinarian, rule enforcing, and leadership roles. Yes, we had a great system…and we worked really well together. She was always cold, and I was always hot..but we made it work with short sleeves for me and a constant sweater nearby for her. (I know she is laughing reading this).

This year would be a rollercoaster ride for us, but in a fun sense. The days were never ever boring, filled with some surprises we had never expected. We originally had 22 students enrolled, all with 22 different personalities. We had criers, bathroom enablers, comedians and well, what comes to mind mostly? was a whole lot of needy little people with hearts the size of Mt. Everest. Some days it was parallel to adults..just in miniature bodies. We embraced them and learned from them on a daily basis, or at least being new to assisting, I certainly did.

As quickly as it started on the first day, the year flew by. The days were long at times, but the year seemed to zoom. I can’t tell you how rewarding it was to watch the little sponges soak up every tidbit of new information. For these children, everyday was a new adventure and we watched them develop what they had learned.

I can’t write this blog without mention of the adult things I learned, and what our class learned as a whole. Ours was a little more special. I truly believe that we are placed in certain circles for a season. Our class endured a season that caused growth beyond their young hearts.

One of “our” children in the class battled a rare form of childhood cancer. We managed to make our class as normal as possible. It was important for all of them. Some days were very difficult, but nothing could have prepared us for that particular year.

We never really knew how much time we would have with this bright-eyed little girl, but we were determined as a class, to make the most possible out of it. I don’t really know who the encourager was here, she seemed to be ours on most days. Innocent and full of giggles, I will never doubt that she was there to teach us about my favorite word “Tikvah” (Teek-vah) meaning: HOPE.

I learned that I had more hope when I had conversations with her. I had more strength, after all, if she could manage being so sick with a continuous smile? what a wimp I would have been to do anything less. I learned to have courage in her presence, even though I would take my break and cry silently in the lady’s room, or during their nap time. It was very difficult, but we learned to be strong for her, making sure she never doubted that we were there for her.

Out of the many conversations I had with her, I think this one I have never let go. During our lunchtime, she crawled up into my lap and told me that her stomach hurt, and that she didn’t want to eat that day. I said, “can’t you just try to eat a little something?’ her reply to me was this..”It’s really okay Mrs. McCoy, do you know that when I go to heaven soon, I will eat whatever I want because my tummy will be all better.” It wasn’t a question, it was a profound statement from a child that new where her HOPE was. She knew the meaning of (Tikvah) I choked back as best I could and said, “what will be the thing you will want to eat most?” she giggled and said “Chocolate Cake!” Needless to say, the child was given chocolate cake at every request from that day forward. It was a heart moment for me, taught by a five-year old.

There were many other memories from that year. I was given the task of teaching about bugs.. creatures great and small, since they creeped out my co-worker. I was the “bug” lady. I drove a bug, I actually liked bugs, and I have almost 20 pictures of bugs that were drawn for me in crayon and markers by this class. Looking at a spider under the microscope proved to be one of our best days.  A roomful of squealing girls and boys, who knew a spider had so many eyes!!!!!

Our year came to a close, and our classroom angel made her flight around Christmas. We grew together. We continued our journey of learning together. It was hard, but I will always think this class learned what most their ages had not. They learned love and loss much too early, but they also learned compassion for one another.

My teacher friend had them to make me a special book entitled “Why We Love Mrs. McCoy” that year,  it summed up my entire years’ experience. I found it today in some school papers, it still makes me smile. Somewhere in the corner of my soul, I realized that I had put a small mark on them in their little world, even if it was about bugs and my love for Christmas. Insignificant, as it was, it was more of the mark they left on me as a person.

My prayer is that you never take for granted the print you leave on the hearts of children. Teach them well, but more importantly, learn from them.  Great or small, make your impact an encouraging one, one of Tikvah- HOPE.

Strange enough blog title for today don’t you think? It has become quite the joke in my household, almost as great as the joke about the non-existent maid that I employ and fire on a regular basis. The truth is? I don’t think I have ever eaten an actual “bon-bon” but this year may be one of those firsts.

I have learned through my 46 years that assuming what you know about others is not only unfair, it is the worst form of judgement we can impose on one another. This has always been a major pet peeve in my corner of the world and has NEVER been a job that has been divinely appointed by others. I have come to know that it is a learned behavior, not an employable position, only God himself holds this title. (okay, got the soapbox out-of-the-way)

I had been gainfully employed from the age of 16 until the age of 33..so, yes, I know what it is like to hold down a job, run a household and toggle everything around a working schedule. It is tough with and without children. Life is busier than we want it to be at times and most of my friends continue to juggle this quite competently. I have complete admiration for those that do it so well.

I never ask my friends “What did you do all day?” or even assume that because they have a paying job, their checkbooks always balance. I also do not assume that my retired friends have “arrived.” My point is this – words can be used for 2 things when you assume.

1. To build up

2. To tear down

There are no gray areas here. Use your words wisely. If you don’t agree with others choices? I promise you IT IS OKAY… we were not fashioned to be clones, but individuals. What works for you, may not work for someone else.

If I DO decide to stay at home for the purpose of eating Bon Bons, or actually hire a maid so I can watch soap operas all day long?… I promise I will immediately post it on my social network to make sure you get the heads up!

As a stay at home mom who homeschools 180 actual days out of the year….be prepared for the “eye roll” the next time you make one of these statements:

1. What do you do all day? 2. Oh, so you don’t actually work?  3. You must have a lot of free time? 4. Some of us have to work for a living. 5. (my utmost favorite: “It must be nice” (derogatory)

For the record, I am busy.. every day. I do have advantages in staying home, but so do you from working. I do not begrudge your new automobile, your larger home that you work hard to pay for, or your totally new fall wardrobe. I will, honestly, rejoice with you in your blessings.

If you work? Be the best employee you can ultimately be! If you stay at home? Be the best homemaker you can ultimately be!

If you want to voluntarily have a Bon- Bon party? I’ll even put a temporary address label on my mailbox (Rodeo Drive)  I’m  all in! We should be an encourager for one another.. share one anothers burdens.. regardless what season or job in life we find ourselves in. And please, don’t let me remind you what the word “assume” really stands for. It would not be appropriate for my blog.

The smell of stadium food at Atlanta Braves’ Turner Field, the roar of the crowd and the awesome sound of the crack of the bat- I’m not sure who enjoyed it more? It was Hannah and my husbands first MLB game, and a second for me.  A great example of living life in “moments” not years. I could have watched them as much as I watched the game. I hope it was a moment that they will not soon forget.

Amazingly enough, I still felt a little emotional when we all sang “Take Me Out to the Ballgame” there is just something about thousands of people being on the same page. Only at an athletic event does this usually transpire. I’ll take it.

There was not much scoring during this game against the Miami Marlins. As a matter of fact, no one scored until the top of the ninth inning, but MLB games are just as exciting in between the change ups. There is just a lot of things going on around you – sights, smells and my husbands favorite, people watching. I think they learned a lot about being intoxicated on the upper deck. My daughter even commented how there were some very unwise choices going on. She is a visual learner, so – I’ll take that too.

I’ve decided that whether you have a boy or girl? A baseball game is the perfect place to share your thoughts. We watched as Chris Johnson got thrown out of the game for his attitude..there were consequences. When you hit a few fouls? there is room for another chance…aaah… sounds a lot like “grace” don’t you think? The seventh inning stretch? well, that’s where you get your “second wind” you get the picture… we could learn a lot more from a baseball game than you think.

I shared with her my favorite quote from Warren Spahn..Hitting is timing. Pitching is upsetting timing…. Everything has a balance, such as we have to have in this life.

When there were absolutely no scores on the board, she asked if they had “overtime” (chuckle)…. I explained that they were given extra innings until someone scored first. We don’t always get the extra innings in life, that’s why we have to make every moment count like it is the bottom of the ninth and the bases are loaded. Make your moments count….go down swinging.

Yes, baseball was very much a learning experience. Life learning. Even if you are not a baseball fan? I highly suggest having the experience. Check it off of your bucket list if you have one. Today,  I leave you with another one of my favorite quotes by the famous Hank Aaron…

“My motto was always to keep swinging. Whether I was in a slump or feeling badly or having trouble off the field, the only thing to do was keep swinging.”

That’s it…. just keep swinging my friend.

What a book title? I am a Rock. It was one of the first beginner readers in a K-5 series. It was an entire book that repeated itself about being “just a rock” I do not move… I am a rock…I am …. blah blah .. I am a rock. You get the picture. Honestly, I thought it was the most annoying book. There was no story, just a picture of that lifeless rock.

The more I learned about a rock? The more I contemplated what it would be like to be one, metaphorically anyway. They are normally “hard”  and “naturally” formed. They do not move, feel, or speak. They are just a rock.

Strangely enough, it sometimes appeals to me. I am wise enough to know that I was not created to be one, but fashioned into something more. I know that I will not accomplish anything greater by being a rock. I have to endure the painful process of crushing and polishing. It’s a process that I don’t enjoy… (can I just skip to the polishing part?) I already know the answer to that one.

Maybe this is my underlying passion to collect beach stones and shells? They are already smoothed by the rough tumbling of the stormy sea. I only notice the finished masterpiece, unaware of the journey it took to get there.

Inwardly, I want to maintain the status of a rock, I don’t want to be broken, or crushed. I want to remain like a lump of the coal my daddy would mine throughout my childhood, but I know all too well the process of blasting through the slate, keeping only the useful parts. I’m sure the diamond gem would have survived being un-mined, but it would have only served a selfish purpose, forever unaware of its potential to shine.

Each day I have the conscious choice of being a rock. Some days it serves a temporary purpose, but most days I am forced to come out from under it. It’s easy being a rock, but not as rewarding as sharing your gemstones.

Psalms 26:2 Examine me, O LORD, and prove me; try my reins and my heart.

It has been almost 3 months since you made your journey, Pa. Some days it seems impossible to think you are not still in Burnwell, Ky tending your garden and going about your daily tasks. I’m sure Heaven’s surroundings are still new and adventurous since time is irrelevant there, but our days seem to trudge on without you. Everyone misses you terribly and are still trying to find a new sense of “normal.” Honestly, we know that there is no such thing, but we still try to count our days and move forward. Time is fleeting and we know we will see you again soon, but the huge hole in our hearts is still all too new.

There are days that are easier than others as I have come to realize in losing my own parents. Then, there are the days that seem unbearable and you just go through the motions of everyday living. We all miss you. Each one of us grieve in our own way, and the length of it will be different for each of the family left here without you. Our pain is real and fresh, but the comfort in knowing that your pain is over helps us in our process of grief.

I think the hardest in my household have become the daily phone calls. Our phone still audibly says “call from James Earl” I just haven’t been able to change it yet. The fact that you always tried to prank Hannah on the phone by saying “who is this? Hannah who?” still makes me smile. She misses you just as much as I had always dreaded. She still considers you her best friend that always understood her. We have our moments, not all sad. We sometimes find ourselves giggling over what a great time you are having in Heaven, imagining the yelping you did passing through those pearly gates, finishing your race with courage.

We will continue to miss everything about you. You were always good to me, personally. I will miss helping you with jobs down here, mainly because you never fussed at me. You laughed and said, “we make a pretty good team, Dee” it always made me laugh too. You were the only one that gave me the nickname “Dee” I miss that too. To say that any one of your children, grandchildren or daughter in-laws miss you more than the other would be unjustified. We all miss you and grieve for you in our own way. I will say of all the memories that I have? A simple phone call on a day that I needed it most, came from you.

I had gotten up that morning with a broken spirit that I couldn’t shake. It was one of those days that I missed my parents. I totally felt like an orphan that day. Lost. I felt like someone drifting with no anchor. Out of the blue, you called. I thought you had called to chat with Hannah, but you said you actually called to talk to me. You said that you had the overwhelming unction to call me because I had been on your mind all morning. You asked me if I was okay. Of course I lied and said I was fine. I would later call you and confess that only God knew how much I needed the encouragement. Thank you for being obedient in that. It will always be my most heartfelt memory.

We are all trying to find the “New Normal” some days it goes better than others, but we will continue to try. Our lives will never be the same. We will always feel the void. More often than not, we will continue to mourn our loss, but eventually our good memories will override the sadness. Until then, we will do the best we can, hold on to the good stuff and try to figure it out. Mainly, I hope we learn. Learn how to encourage one another, show compassion when possible, and overlook the things that are not so important. While our hearts remain broken, we also know that one day the pieces will be put back together. We are looking forward to that day that only Heaven can provide.

We are off to riding lessons, Hannah says that riding is different now because  she has no doubt that you are able to see her ride. She finds joy in that thought. Although I have no idea if you can? It’s the little things in our “New Normal” that offers a little glimpse of comfort.

Philippians 4:7   And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.

My brother and I make the joke about the “Clowns” in our heads…or, our never-ending thought processing. I never realized how much we had this in common until the last couple of years. Genetics. No, I am not obsessed with clowns, and I am definitely not afraid of them, sometimes they just work overtime. For the last seven days, I did the unthinkable – I set out to have “silence” under the big top. The clowns were told to take some time off….no bearded ladies, elephants or men in tights on the flying trapeze. Silence Under the Big Top.  This ringmaster would be on vacation for an entire seven days.  As soon as we leave the driveway, I sense that the clowns have the painted frowns. I am not sad, but excited to leave them behind to fend for themselves.

Eventually the noises and busy hustling of the clowns fade into the background. I am sure they are not going anywhere. They will be here when I return. It is only a two-hour ride. I have always adored the North Carolina tourism slogan – NC, where a million miles away, is just down the road. I’m on my way…a million miles away. Okay it is only about 100 but it will still be paradise.  I tweet and post a few times on the way. Excitement is an understatement. I have always loved going to the ocean… always.

This year has been a little rough in our little corner of the world. Life changing, heart breaking and forever altering circumstances. Life happens, you can’t stop it. It would be our first real vacation in more than a few years. So, yeah, it was sort of important to us as a family. This was also kinda the scary part, I was so depending on this respite? I was afraid it would never come to pass. I am thankful that our plans went forward.

I think when we crossed over onto Topsail Island, I became small. I became insignificant. My worries and frustrations did the same. I was beginning to feel more free than I had in several months. The clowns were silent. Sssssh……..

My view for the next six days…..I would continue to feel small standing in the presence of God’s vast creation. I am insignificant, yet I feel a part of everything about it. I don’t just breathe the salt air, I inhale it with my eyes closed. I have a lot of silencing to do in the next several days. I am reassured that I was right….the sea will always soothe the soul.

I know that I drove my social media friends crazy, I posted pictures frequently. You would have thought I was a child seeing the ocean for the first time. I’m sure most of them understood how needed this vacation was for me. If not, I’m sure you were rolling your eyes at my posts. LOL – and that’s okay too.

Every morning I had my coffee on the balcony. I had some great reflection time and much-needed conversations with God. How could you not talk to the creator in front of His awesome masterpiece.  Little by little, every morning I found new wind in my sails, grace renewed for another day. The clowns know very little about this part of my being. Sound like I was on the verge of losing my sanity? I wasn’t, I was just worn, weary and needing to have a few things restored. He was faithful in all I asked.

I never felt loneliness here, although I had a few moments alone. Every day I found something to smile about. I was intentional in my thoughts. I focused on the good things I have in my life, from past to present and hopeful for more great things on the horizon (great views of that too) I often asked God to restore my wings, enable me to soar in the next chapters of my life, whatever that is going to include. Insignificant I remain, incapable of doing anything totally on my own. I like to think I am a strong person, but I am more often not. Maybe that’s where the clowns come in.. they paint on their smiles and distract.

I think one of the moments that will always be in the forefront is the morning I was determined to watch the sunrise. It would require me leaving early by myself without waking everyone up. I realized the view would be hidden by the other buildings, so I would have to walk down the strand of beach to witness it. I will never regret that walk. Ever.

As a lover of the sky? This was the ultimate photo for me. I was overwhelmed. Through tear filled eyes I had to regroup. So many emotions overtook my thoughts. Many of them only significant to me. Restoration that I would not leave without. It was here that I embraced the silence. No clowns intruding my thoughts, trying to un-weave the webs of the world. I was mostly thankful for seeing another day, making another memorable day with my loved ones. I felt the wind blowing against my sails, gaining my second wind. It was just what I needed. I am thankful that He is faithful in all things. Always.

I listen to the laughter of my almost 13-year-old daughter enjoying a sleepover with three of her friends. I smile, and I smile again even larger on the inside. I am glad that she has a circle of great friends. I know first hand, how this will be one of her greatest treasures in life~her friends. Will they always be together? Chances are they will probably not, but I know a secret, one they have not yet discovered. Miles and distance are irrelevant when it comes to friends. They will all follow different paths, have different dreams, but this time that they have now is irreplaceable. I hope they always take time to nurture their friendships.

Out of almost a “double-dare” comes the rest of todays blog. I threatened one of my best friends, that if she didn’t at least let me coax her into facebook/phone/email occasionally? I was going to blog about us. I think it scared her LOL. Yes, sometimes I call her to just make sure she is amongst the living. I know where she is. She is not even close to being “lost” I joke with her about flushing her out of her self-made fortress.

I’ve heard people comment that “friends just lose touch” or “grow apart” I have found this to not always be the case.  I will admit that we all have friends that we just don’t interact with every day. Then, we have those friends that can be apart for a very long time and pick right back up where you left off in a matter of hours. I love that about them!

From the time I entered into the seventh grade, graduated, married, and moved away, I have been fortunate to have such a friend. Although I have not seen her in  more years than I care to admit? I have never doubted that time and miles would be totally irrelevant between us. We were inseparable from the day we met. We have led different lives, been in opposite stages of parenting (she’s almost through the teen years!) The one thing that has been constant – our friendship. We own each other’s vaults, as best friends should. I know if I called her this instant? the sound of her voice would be a comfort, regardless of the actual words. (okay, this would be more true if she would ANSWER her phone) I think she knows it would be the same way if the tables were turned. I consider her one of my life’s blessings, part of my “original” tapestry. Like a homemade quilt, she will always be part of my “home.” The same goes for our family members that are also forever intertwined.

I know when we have aged beyond remembering even half of the laughter, tears, disappointments, and (well, just some things that we will be grateful that senility buffers) I don’t think either of us will ever be politicians, but a little old-age memory loss will probably serve us well one day. We will always consider ourselves blessed in knowing one another. Friends keep one another anchored. I have a tendency to want to keep my head in the clouds, being a dreamer, while she, on the other hand, resonates to me reality, and pulls out those scales of balance. I must say that she is one of the few people I know that can be real, without making you feel like she is passing judgement – those are priceless!

So, I kind of made good on my threat to blog…and knowing her? it will sit for weeks in her inbox before she reads it! But, eventually I know she will, and while the miles are still very much between us…with my friend…they will always be irrelevant.

“Gotcha”

He was always a giant in my eyes, not only when I was a little girl around the age of six, but even as an adult. I called him “Cecil” for some time. He was my step-dad, although I don’t think I ever recall him referring to me as his “step-daughter”, if he did? it was never in my presence. The day came when I crawled up into his lap and asked if he minded if I began to call him “Daddy” It was settled with a hug. I was confident nothing could ever harm me as long as he was around.  I would call him Daddy/Dad for the remainder. He never tried to replace my real Dad, he respected that and it made me love him even more. Not all men are cut out of the cloth that can be a step-parent. He was one of the few that seemed to ease into that role.

Today, is flag day..but it is also his birthday..June 14. He has celebrated his birthday in heaven since August 9, 1998. This weekend is also Father’ Day, so it is always bittersweet.

I think the earliest memories go back to feeling secure. He watched over us and provided for us by going deep into the mines for many years. The word that comes to mind when I think of Dad is “safe.” He was involved in many different things during my childhood. He was often called away with a rescue call, a neighbor in need, or just helping out when called upon. He was called away a lot, but he was a constant – he always came home, and when he did, I always slept much better.

At times it was frustrating because he knew everyone. This meant that I seldom got away with much, and when I felt I did? I had the guilt that he knew and I had disappointed him in some unspoken way. It didn’t matter whether it was a snow storm, thundering skies, or just a time when I was afraid, he was my bigger than life protector. If I needed anything, all I had to say the word. Even after moving 400 miles away, he remained the same. Once, he offered to make the drive to bring me whatever we needed after we had been through our first major hurricane. He would have done it in an instant.

He was always the “safe place” for me. I considered it fortunate to not have one Dad, but two, atleast until I turned ten. He taught me a lot about life, about caring for people and the importance of being a rock for those around you. He showed me how to be an encourager. I learned by watching his example.

I can only hope that I can relay the feeling of a “safe place” to my own child, since she was never able to meet him. An unconditional place where she can always feel protected, no matter what her age. It’s important to be anchored to something you can depend on. Thank you Daddy (Dad) for being that for me. You left me the inheritance of a good example – to always look for the good in everyone. I will see you again one day, and we’ll have many more of our great discussions like old times, I am looking forward to it…in our eternal safe place.