Judy’s Home!
I walked by the little, orange square more times than I care to admit. After three days, I finally picked it up off the tile floor and balanced it on the end of my finger to inspect it. There, looking back at me with huge brown eyes, was Dora the Explorer. The little, orange square was a perfectly folded band-aid that had fallen off the finger of my new roommate, Kaitlyn.
Like Dora, Kaitlyn has big, brown eyes and short, brown hair. She’s two. She’s spicy. She’s potty-trained. She’s got chubby cheeks with a mysterious dimple on the right one that comes and goes whenever it pleases. In less than a week, Kaitlyn has managed to wrap me, Judy, around her little band-aid covered finger.
Kaitlyn’s brother, Jeremiah, is equally cute but 95% less spicy. He’s two months old and in the “eat, sleep, and poop” stage of his life – not quite sure if he wants to smile yet. But I’m growing on him and it’s only a matter of time.
The stork didn’t bring them. Their Mom, Caressa, is a beautiful, young woman with her whole life ahead of her, and a not-so-lovely life behind her. Sometimes a girl just needs a break, and a hand, and a soft place to fall.
But before the three of them walked in my door, there was Olivia. Grandma Olivia. She moved here several weeks ago to get a fresh start – find a new life. Step right up. I serve a gracious God who is all about changing lives.
So the five of us are finding our way together, with a lot of help from the unbelievably kind and generous folks in the church. They went above and beyond, supplying cribs, strollers, car seats, clothes, toys, diapers, milk, and more. I’m thankful. So very thankful.
Tonight when I came in the back door I heard Kaityln’s footsteps coming down the hallway. As she entered the kitchen, she broke in to a big smile, lifted her arms to me, and said, “Judy’s home.” It doesn’t get much better than that. I am a happy girl.
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.
