Excuse Me, Sir?
My Mom and I made an early morning run to Home Depot to pick up more paint. We had time to wait and I couldn’t help but look at all the tools painters use…aisles of stuff hanging on pegs and tucked into to cubby holes. I’m dying to get my hands on a paint sprayer; however, I’m smart enough to know it would not be a pretty sight. Perhaps someone would let me practice in a room where nothing could be damaged.
To my surprise, the paint I had purchased three years ago was no longer available in its original form. Well, I wasn’t totally surprised - just not quite ready for plan “b.” Thankfully, I brought the can with me and the oh-so helpful guy with the orange apron mixed me up a huge 5-gallon bucket. He heaved the bucket into the orange cart and we were on our way.
As we made out way to parking lot, after leaving my left cornea as payment for the giant bucket of paint, I realized there was no way I could lift the bucket out of the orange cart. My Mom’s been working out at the gym, but she wasn’t going to be much help. I told my Mom I was going to ask someone for help.
In a breathy voice I said, “Wow. You made that look so easy. Thank you, Sir. Thank you very much.” He chuckled, smiled and then walked back to his giant truck.
The unsuspecting man was rearranging the stuff in his truck so he could unload his orange cart. The guy looked pretty big, so I didn’t think he’d have any difficulty with my 5-gallon bucket. I said, “Excuse me, Sir? Would it be possible for you to help me move this bucket in to my car?” He looked at his cart, looked at the parking lot, and walked over to help.
As the guy got closer his body got bigger. He was tall as a sequoia and just as wide. He was a freakin’ Paul Bunyan. Even before he lifted the bucket from the basket I was in love. He put his hands on the bucket like it was a teacup and without using his arm or back muscles - or making any heaving sounds - he lifted the bucket in to the back of my car. In a breathy voice I said, “Wow. You made that look so easy. Thank you, Sir. Thank you very much.” He chuckled, smiled and then walked back to his giant truck. I had to fight the urge to run after him and throw my arms around his legs and beg him to come to my house and fix things and paint in high places. My Mom was with me…so I edited my thoughts.
When I went to lift the bucket out of the car, I tried to use the same lifting method he did and the bucket wouldn’t budge. I finally gave up and used the stupid handle and walked the bucket in to the house. It’s official. I want one of those in my house. And I’m not talking about the bucket.
Happy 16th Birthday Mac!
“When you’re sixteen years old, will you still let me hug you?” I asked sweet, little Mac when he was small enough to sit in my lap. He said yes as if there wasn’t a doubt in his mind. But I still wondered. It seems like only yesterday.
Now, he’s driving a truck and stands about nine inches taller than me. So much has changed. But one thing has stayed the same. Mac still hugs me, hangs out with me, and lets me love him.
I’ve enjoyed watching Mac grow in to a man. His love for God flows naturally in to every aspect of his life. He’s a team player, a leader, a brilliant student, a natural athlete, a fierce competitor, and a protector of those weaker than him. And, he loves my cooking.
I’m thankful for a part in the story of Mac - a part close enough to know the fierce gladiator has a huge heart and a passion for life.
Next year he’ll be a junior in High School, a co-captain of the varsity basketball team, and I’m thinking he’ll be 6′4″ by the time he graduates. I’ll have to stand on the bottom step to kiss his face, but I’ll enjoy looking up at him.
Happy Birthday, Mac! You’re a good man and I have so much respect and love for you. I’m soooooo looking forward to the next few chapters of your life.
Pain In The Neck
I’ve been getting adjustments at the chiropractor, and as a result, it’s got me thinking about pain. Don’t get me wrong. It’s not the adjustments that cause the pain.
Before I moved here, I was regularly getting adjustments to correct a problem with the bones in my neck. Long story short, when I was a teenager, a benign tumor was removed from between my ribs, and the surgeon who sewed me up, well, he must have missed a few anatomy classes. I’ve got stronger back muscles on one side, which eventually caused the other neck and back muscles to fight to gain balance. Why can’t they all just get along?
Anyway, after I moved here, I just stopped getting adjusted. And the pain came back. But for some reason, I learned to live with it. I’ve gotten familiar with pinched nerves. I’ve learned to move and sleep differently to avoid neck grief. Relieving the pain wasn’t a priority.
Why is it that we can ignore pain and become accustomed to it? And then, when it goes away, we seem to forget that the pain ever existed? I’m going to have to do a little research and get to the bottom of this. I’m fascinated. And for the record, I’m thankful for my new chiropractor and all the pain relief he’s bringing.
P.S. That’s not my neck x-ray. Just pretend.
Home Sweet Home
Arrived in Seattle. Oh my goodness! What an adventure. If I never see another wheelchair I’ll be a happy girl. Mom and I are well…just VERY tired. One flight left to Spokane and we’ll be home in our beds. And THAT is a BEAUTIFUL thing.
It’s All About Sanctification
I’m here in Greece. The journey wasn’t without some drama. I dropped off the rental car in Spokane at 2:00am and made my way to the ticket counter. Alaska Airlines suggested I get to the ticket counter two hours before departure to secure my seat assignment. And so I was there with a handful of early birds. The rep from Alaska rolled in at 3:30am. Got good seats and made my way to security, which didn’t allow us to go through until 4:20am. Our flight to Seattle began boarding at 4:30am. Now normally this wouldn’t be a problem since the airport was empty, but there wasn’t anywhere to buy water on the street side of security and it takes about an hour for Dramamine to take effect. I finally bought a bottle of water at 4:25am and downed the pill.
Halfway to Seattle I turned green and had to fight nausea. Very humiliating to say the least. Made my way to the gate for the next leg of my flight and that’s when the Dramamine took effect. I fell asleep and nearly missed my flight. God is gracious and I woke up to the sound of my flight being called. The flight was pleasant but the nausea never passed. I arrived at Newark with only thirty minutes to make it to my gate.
The Airtrain between terminals A, B, and C was broken with no estimated fix time. The only way to make it from terminal A to C was by bus. I went outside to the spot where the bus would arrive and waited and waited. Finally, the bus arrived and I made it to terminal C. I stood in line for security along with everyone else and my plane departed without me. I went to the Continental counter to inquire about rebooking my flight and was sent to another counter. And another counter. And another counter. Finally, after being passed around SEVEN times, I fell apart.
They have four huge sections of the airport set aside to deal with people who missed their connecting flights. LOTS of people miss their connecting flights. Now I’m not an engineer, but I hardly think you need a degree to figure out that something is wrong at Newark airport.
There I stood crying, nauseated, and working a Dramamine buzz as the Continental ticket woman had the audacity to tell me it was my fault I missed the flight. I said something about my inability to land the plane earlier or fix the airtrain, or drive the bus faster. She then announced that there were no more flights to Athens. The next available flight was the next day at 5:30pm. The thought of spending the night at Newark airport brought forth more tears. Mine…not hers. She booked me on the flight and gave me a complimentary room in a hotel for the night. I’m thankful I didn’t have to sleep at the airport so I’ll leave out the nightmare that was Howard Johnson’s. Needless to say, you get what you pay for.
My flight to Athens was fantastic. Great seats. A lovely Greek woman sat next to me which helped the time pass more quickly. We exchanged information and I promised to contact her when I arrived home.
Another stamp in my passport. My baggage arrived in Athens. My Mom was waiting for me. I am a happy girl.
