The summer between my sophomore and junior year of high school I moved to Tazewell VA. That is a VERY difficult time of life to move in case you’ve never had to do it. I went from being an active athlete and honor student in a school with lots of friends and a boyfriend to not knowing a soul. Needless to say, I had a chip on my shoulder about being uprooted.
Being the last at home, my Mom could focus all of her attention on trying to help me make the transition. I was a snot nosed teenager and did my best to foil her attempts. She found a church right away as usual. She made friends and got busy networking. She found out about the day, time, and location for school sports physicals. I reluctantly agreed to go as I wanted to play basketball and run track.
The day of the physicals, which was a few days before school started, we walked in and put my name on the waiting list. Of course there were tons of people there, talking in their little cliques. I felt like such an idiot having only my Mom to talk to. What teenager wants to be seen in public with their parent, let alone in a teen zone?! My misery must have been quite apparent, as it didn’t take long for this one girl to come bounding over to my rescue.
That girl was Kelly Combs. She wasted no time in learning all the particulars about me and taking me back over to meet her friends. She was a cheerleader and so were all of them. Being a tomboy and the complete opposite of a chipper cheerleader, I figured this introduction was headed no where fast. I felt sure that if I could just endure the chatty happiness of these girls during the wait for my physical, I’d be doing well.
But Kelly would have nothing of that. She made sure to get my phone number, an understanding of where I lived, and promised to be in touch. This was LONG before MySpace, Facebook, email, cell phones, or texting. The phones we had back then were at our houses AND the kind that you actually had to dial. Funny how times change. Anyway, she got my info and promised to be in touch.
Once in school, we discovered that we had a few classes together even though she was a grade behind me. We became fast friends and learned we had quite a bit in common. We were both from a family of five – she being the oldest of five and me being the youngest. We were both extremely competitive, determined, iron willed, perfectionist, and independent girls. Sometimes our likeness caused arguments and disagreements. We behaved a lot more like sisters than friends.
While we had more similar qualities than differences, there were differences - one key one being punctuality. I was always about 15 to 30 minutes early. Kelly was always 15 to 30 minutes late, better known as “Kelly Time”. I often harassed her that she’d be late for her funeral. She piped back “I hope I am!” No amount of prodding from me (or anyone else for that matter) could make her timely.
I daresay if it were not for meeting Kelly, I would have continued to sulk and be an outcast. I know my Mom had to jump for joy that we met. Kelly was a lot like my Mom in that she never met a stranger. They both could walk into a room of 10 strangers and walk out with 10 friends. I on the other hand, would have walked out knowing maybe one. In the case of meeting Kelly, that one was like winning the lottery. I got to meet a LOT of people through her that I normally wouldn’t have. Even though she had to drag me kicking and screaming at times, I am so grateful to her for that.
We were basically inseparable for that first year. She went on vacations with my family and spent lots of nights at our house. I’d go to her house and walk in the back door without even knocking. Their house always reminded me of the nursery rhyme “The Old Woman that Lived in the Shoe” as there were kids everywhere! I was just another one to add to the brood and her family welcomed me in with open arms.
The next year things changed quite a bit as I met my husband and married in the spring of my senior year. Kelly was one of my bridesmaids. In the fall, I moved to Boone NC when my husband attended Appalachian State. I returned to Tazewell to have our first daughter, Jennifer, and she was there for that. We did our best to stay in touch, but as life usually does, our paths went in different directions.
We got the invitation, and Jennifer and I attended her wedding. Wow, what a production! I can still see all the people flanking the hillside at her parent’s house. She was in all her glory! It was definitely a day that she shined brightly. A beautiful bride. After that we kept in touch mostly through Christmas newsletters and occasional drop in visits when I was in Tazewell or her in Charlotte. Our families grew, our careers blossomed, and life prevailed.
In August of 2005, Kelly suddenly lost her Dad. My Mom had found out and called me. I made the mistake of not attending his funeral. That is one of those moments I would like to be able to do over. But from what I’ve been told, Kelly was the solid rock that she’s always been and made him proud in her send off of him.
In February of 2006, I suddenly lost my Mom. To my surprise, Kelly came with my in-laws to the memorial service. I was so grateful for her attendance. She and my Mom had a special connection for sure. Both of them had a gift of making you feel like you were the only thing on their minds at that moment. They went the extra mile to make you feel special.
Three months after Mom died, I found out through my mother-in-law that Kelly was diagnosed with breast cancer. The small town of Tazewell has quite a powerful gossip underground and news travels at blazing speeds. Eleanor had heard the news through this grapevine, and did not have any real details. One of the first thoughts that went through my mind was how sad I was that Mom wouldn’t be here to support Kelly through this. The next thought was that I needed to fill that void.
I got busy and found Kelly’s phone number. I called and we talked for a long time. I did my best to stay composed and strong in the face of the news. As usual, Kelly took the information in stride, and while I couldn’t see the smile on her face, I could hear it in her voice. She was NOT going to take this laying down and would fight to the bitter end. I signed up for the slugfest, too.
Through encouragement from friends, Kelly started posting information about her cancer journey online. She used various tools through the years, and as a result, I have become quite the master of chat, email, and blogging tools in an attempt to keep up with her story. Another commonality that we share is that writing is an outlet for our emotions. We both love to communicate and usually our written word gets to the point better than our spoken word.
These tools were a wonderful outlet for Kelly. She could keep everyone informed in real time. It allowed her to “control” the information that was being disseminated to ward off the rumor mill. Again in a small town like Tazewell, that was a VERY important feature. It also, provided a way for all of her family and friends to give her encouragement and support. And as Kelly said many times, that meant the world to her.
I followed her updates religiously. I commented as often as I felt appropriate without being obnoxious. Kelly’s journey was a roller coaster, and I stuck with her through all the high, low, and middle grounds. I’d call her occasionally, but the majority of our interaction was online. She was an extremely busy woman with mothering 4 young boys, her work, and all the social and volunteer commitments she had.
I made numerous attempts to see Kelly through the journey. I did get to visit one time early on in the diagnosis and treatments. I was able to do a foot reflexology session with her, and she enjoyed that. I also saw her briefly at a friend’s Father’s funeral. But between her busy schedule and mine, we just didn’t make it happen often enough.
On January 27th, 2010, my youngest daughter’s basketball team was set to play in Tazewell. Kelly had just recently been through yet another tough bout with the cancer bug. All indications were that she had battled her way through it and was on the mend. In a rare Kelly moment, she asked for no visitors. Hoping for an exception, I contacted her to see if it would be ok for us to stop in after the game. She was always a night owl, but I didn’t want to disturb the rest of the house with a late night visit. Fortunately, she agreed for us to come on over.
In her blogs, she often noted the food cravings she was having. She also mentioned the problems she was experiencing with sleeping. And her number two enemy behind cancer was stress. She was trying all methods to remove stress. I took a goodie bag full of things to hopefully ease some of all of those woes. When she pulled out the cookies I took, she told me she felt sure her Little Debbie snack cake cravings were a result of my Mom always having them as kids. We got a good laugh out of that.
Our visit was very refreshing. I could tell she was tired and had been kicked around a bit with the latest episode. But I could still see and feel the fire in her eyes and in her belly. She wanted to live for those 4 boys no matter what. She even jumped out of bed at one point and took me upstairs to show me the progress on the two older boys’ rooms upstairs. I tried to talk her out of the stairs, but she wouldn’t listen.
I didn’t want to leave, but Cassidi had school the next day and we had nearly a 2 hour trip home. We hugged goodbye with promises of visiting sooner next time. When I walked out of that house, I never imagined what the next three weeks would hold.
Kelly was religious about updating her site. Again, it was a form of therapy for her. When she’d have rough spells, she couldn’t always update every day. Those of us that were regular readers would worry if there wasn’t a post for more than 4 or 5 days in a row. We’d occasionally send out search parties and inquiries to know who saw her last and what they knew – the online gossip underground!
We were always well intentioned, but sometimes it felt like the tables had turned. It seemed at times we just wanted our entertainment! I know that is not the way anyone really felt, but because Kelly was so open and honest about EVERYTHING in her life, we all got front row seats into her chaos. She was a master at riding the roller coaster. And we became Kelly adrenaline junkies probably without even knowing it.
When I say she shared everything, I mean EVERYTHING! There were posts about spicy poop, Shrek belching contests, projectile puking, Frankenstein’s bride hair, law room antics, cow pie bingo, raising teenage boys, raising toddlers, LOUD noises, aches & pains, triumphs, disappointments, hospital visits, reunion late night (early morning) parties, the mundane, the exhilarating, the everyday antics that kept her moving at the speed of life. I mean, who wouldn’t be entertained by that?! All she needed was a camera crew to become the next reality TV series. It could have been titled “Living at the Speed of Life (in spite of having stage IV Breast Cancer)”.
But the last entry on Kelly’s site was the day before I went to see her. About a week later, I finally caved in and sent a note to her sister on Facebook to check on her. I didn’t want to be a bother in the event that something “bad” was going on. Amy assured me Kelly was doing ok – 40% the day before, but 60% that day (Kelly’s evaluation no doubt!). I scolded myself for allowing the negative demons to enter into my train of thought. I jumped back on the positive vibe band wagon and vowed that I wouldn’t let anything deter me again.
And then it happened. A couple of days later, the thing that all of us had feared. Kelly was told the cancer had metastasized beyond the point of treatment and there was nothing left that could be done. She fought tooth and nail for nearly 4 years to squeeze every drop of living out of her existence. I can only imagine the conversations that came after that. I say conversations, but I’m sure it was a very one sided SCREAMING tirade. Kelly never gave up on anything in her life. She HATED to lose. If she had to rewrite the script in her head to win, then she’d do just that.
Kelly was sent home from the hospital with Hospice on Friday, February 12th. She died Sunday, February 14th. I like to think that as long as she felt she had the tools to actively fight cancer and have more time with her loved ones, then she was game. But when the options ran out, she refused to let cancer slowly eat her alive. She decided it was time to rewrite the script. Cancer was not going to beat her. She decided it was just time to say goodbye. As hard as I know that had to be for her, it was the graceful exit she’d want us all to remember. And she did it in "Kelly Time". There were so many times in her journey where the cancer should have won earlier. But true to form, she was late to her funeral!
In speaking with her Mom at the services, she told me Kelly kept saying Cassidi’s name when the end drew near. At first, I didn’t know what to think of that. But the more I thought about it, the more the following theory unfolded. I mentioned my Mom died in February 2006. She actually died on Daytona 500 Sunday. She loved Nascar, so that was a significant day for her. While Kelly didn’t care about Nascar, she also died on Daytona 500 Sunday. Through that connection and the many others they shared, I firmly believe Mom was there trying to help Kelly cross over. And Kelly being the social butterfly that she was, was trying to tell Mom that she had just seen Cassidi. That sounds so much like something Kelly would do. “Hey Reba, you look great! I got to see Cassidi just the other day. You’d be so proud of her”.
I know Kelly is in a place where there is no more suffering, no more pain, no more cancer. I also know she’d much rather be here with her boys battling cancer than the alternative. But life doesn’t always give us those choices. I miss my friend Kelly Noel Combs Necessary. It hurts to have to tell her goodbye. It hurts that she had to accept goodbye. Goodbye is a feeling that breaks the heart. But she will forever be in our souls. May you rest in peace my dear friend and know that your legacy lives on.
www.caringbridge.org/visit/kellycombsnecessary
http://www.legacy.com/bdtonline/Obituaries.asp?Page=LifeStory&PersonID=139757043
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Sunday, February 7, 2010
What exactly is the point?!
The other day, I watched the movie Julie & Julia. At the beginning of the movie, I fell into her thinking of "will I ever accomplish the goals I've set for myself". As the movie progressed, I really liked the concept of what she was trying to achieve. But at the end, when she got the call saying Julia didn't approve of what she was doing, a little black cloud began to set over my head. I ended the movie on an upbeat note though, trying to block out the cloud.
Later, as usual, I had to do some google searching to satisfy my curiosity. What I found started to bother me. Julie never did get to me Julia. And it's reported that Julia truly did not like what Julie was trying to accomplish. She felt it was just a stunt because she was not a true cook interested in the art of cooking, but just a nobody trying to gain attention to get a book deal. It was hard to argue with Julia's reasoning, based on the little I knew about the endeavor from the movie. It caused me to dig deeper.
Turns out Julia wasn't the only Julie hater. She used a lot of profanity on her site and it offended many people. One site even claimed that once she became "famous" it opened the door to slamming her just because (gosh knows we've seen that happen countless times). I found some information on her new book where she became a butcher, and that's the basis of it. To me, it seemed like she was willing to don any hat to add to her celebrity.
Also in the new book, she details an affair she had after the first book's success. It seemed the more I researched her, the more I disliked her. I guess I fell into the same trap many people do - celebrity worship. From the movie, I only saw the innocence in her project and personality. Now that I've learned all this new information, it seems there was a WHOLE lot left out. This really got me riled as I felt misled.
And then I had to step back. Why was my negative, judgmental bone flaring up? Where was my Libra "see both sides of every story" self? I tried to refocus my perspective and find some good.
It also turns out her husband cheated on her somewhere after the first book. Who knows if his or hers was the retaliation. But nonetheless, she's admitted that the marriage was broken, and they had to decide if they wanted to really fix it or not. Fortunately, unlike many celebrities, they have decided to stay together. I found that very endearing. After thinking about it, I realized I had fallen into the mode of hero worship during the movie. I know better than to do that with all the celebrities that have fallen off their pedestals along the way (Tiger Woods, the most notorious of them all of late).
Once I realized she is just as human as me and puts her pants on the same way all the rest of us do, I calmed down. Why shouldn't she be exploring careers to fuel her writing? Don't most writers do research for their writing projects?! Her story is the same rags to riches story of so many. Sure, she sort of road on the coat tails of Julia (and yes, it would have been way more cool if she had had her blessings), but who knew she'd gain the fame she did?! Was she not pursuing the American Dream? Fame, fortune, and glory.
And that's when I realized what my real issue was. In pursuing my own writing project, I've tried desperately to squelch the egotistical maniac that brews within my true type A personality. Sure, I've tried everything under the sun to become more type B. I've been an "all about me", "look what I can do", "look Mom, no hands" kind of person my whole life. In my youth and early adulthood, I had no idea how much it offended people. I was just trying to please. But now that I know, I make every attempt to sidestep it.
Our world is filled with self serving, egotistical, "what's in it for me" people these days. You don't have to look far to discover the root of our country's problems today. Everyone is more concerned with how something is going to impact them and could care less how it impacts the whole. The American Dream caters to that mentality. We have My Space, Facebook, and Twitter that are all platforms for individuals to feed their egos. I mean, do we really need to know the minute my minute playby of ANY persons life?! It's classic self centeredness to the core.
So, where does that leave me in my pursuit to write a book? I've teetered on the fence many times about this. A book is MY thought, MY opinions, MY project. It's my desire to see what others think about MY skills. With this blog, I thrust myself out into cyberspace waiting to see the site visit count increase, for someone to post a comment, or to see the follower list grow. It makes me truly wonder if my heart is in the right place. I don't want to become another Julie Powell that defines her success by how many books she sells.
Again, do I continue this pursuit? Realizing there is all of that negative that can be had, I also understand there is also a positive. I know my heart, and I know it wants to give good. I know I don't have any malice or ill will associated with... well anything that I do. The majority of what I'm trying to accomplish is to share my feelings. I'm not a news commentator that is trying to sway the masses to one side of the coin or the other. I'm simply expressing my emotions in words. If by sharing how I feel, someone can find the ability to cope better with a situation they're dealing with, then I've succeeded.
I guess it's human nature to help others, and in some way, have the satisfaction of knowing that you've helped them. Maybe writing a book is not really the goal I should be pursuing, as it does seem to have the potential to soil my original intent. I guess I'll just have to continue down this path of this journey called life (no pun intended!) to see where it leads me. In the mean time, thank you to those of you reading.
Later, as usual, I had to do some google searching to satisfy my curiosity. What I found started to bother me. Julie never did get to me Julia. And it's reported that Julia truly did not like what Julie was trying to accomplish. She felt it was just a stunt because she was not a true cook interested in the art of cooking, but just a nobody trying to gain attention to get a book deal. It was hard to argue with Julia's reasoning, based on the little I knew about the endeavor from the movie. It caused me to dig deeper.
Turns out Julia wasn't the only Julie hater. She used a lot of profanity on her site and it offended many people. One site even claimed that once she became "famous" it opened the door to slamming her just because (gosh knows we've seen that happen countless times). I found some information on her new book where she became a butcher, and that's the basis of it. To me, it seemed like she was willing to don any hat to add to her celebrity.
Also in the new book, she details an affair she had after the first book's success. It seemed the more I researched her, the more I disliked her. I guess I fell into the same trap many people do - celebrity worship. From the movie, I only saw the innocence in her project and personality. Now that I've learned all this new information, it seems there was a WHOLE lot left out. This really got me riled as I felt misled.
And then I had to step back. Why was my negative, judgmental bone flaring up? Where was my Libra "see both sides of every story" self? I tried to refocus my perspective and find some good.
It also turns out her husband cheated on her somewhere after the first book. Who knows if his or hers was the retaliation. But nonetheless, she's admitted that the marriage was broken, and they had to decide if they wanted to really fix it or not. Fortunately, unlike many celebrities, they have decided to stay together. I found that very endearing. After thinking about it, I realized I had fallen into the mode of hero worship during the movie. I know better than to do that with all the celebrities that have fallen off their pedestals along the way (Tiger Woods, the most notorious of them all of late).
Once I realized she is just as human as me and puts her pants on the same way all the rest of us do, I calmed down. Why shouldn't she be exploring careers to fuel her writing? Don't most writers do research for their writing projects?! Her story is the same rags to riches story of so many. Sure, she sort of road on the coat tails of Julia (and yes, it would have been way more cool if she had had her blessings), but who knew she'd gain the fame she did?! Was she not pursuing the American Dream? Fame, fortune, and glory.
And that's when I realized what my real issue was. In pursuing my own writing project, I've tried desperately to squelch the egotistical maniac that brews within my true type A personality. Sure, I've tried everything under the sun to become more type B. I've been an "all about me", "look what I can do", "look Mom, no hands" kind of person my whole life. In my youth and early adulthood, I had no idea how much it offended people. I was just trying to please. But now that I know, I make every attempt to sidestep it.
Our world is filled with self serving, egotistical, "what's in it for me" people these days. You don't have to look far to discover the root of our country's problems today. Everyone is more concerned with how something is going to impact them and could care less how it impacts the whole. The American Dream caters to that mentality. We have My Space, Facebook, and Twitter that are all platforms for individuals to feed their egos. I mean, do we really need to know the minute my minute playby of ANY persons life?! It's classic self centeredness to the core.
So, where does that leave me in my pursuit to write a book? I've teetered on the fence many times about this. A book is MY thought, MY opinions, MY project. It's my desire to see what others think about MY skills. With this blog, I thrust myself out into cyberspace waiting to see the site visit count increase, for someone to post a comment, or to see the follower list grow. It makes me truly wonder if my heart is in the right place. I don't want to become another Julie Powell that defines her success by how many books she sells.
Again, do I continue this pursuit? Realizing there is all of that negative that can be had, I also understand there is also a positive. I know my heart, and I know it wants to give good. I know I don't have any malice or ill will associated with... well anything that I do. The majority of what I'm trying to accomplish is to share my feelings. I'm not a news commentator that is trying to sway the masses to one side of the coin or the other. I'm simply expressing my emotions in words. If by sharing how I feel, someone can find the ability to cope better with a situation they're dealing with, then I've succeeded.
I guess it's human nature to help others, and in some way, have the satisfaction of knowing that you've helped them. Maybe writing a book is not really the goal I should be pursuing, as it does seem to have the potential to soil my original intent. I guess I'll just have to continue down this path of this journey called life (no pun intended!) to see where it leads me. In the mean time, thank you to those of you reading.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Snow
Even as a young child, I've always liked snow. Big, white, fluffy flakes falling out of the sky. But probably the thing I love the most is that each and every flake is different - just like our finger prints. When learning about snow in elementary school, that is the thing that stuck in my mind about snow the most! EVERY SINGLE FLAKE IS DIFFERENT. Think about that. That is truly amazing. This year we've gotten tons of snow. How is each and every flake unique?! I still don't believe it. There has to be some duplication somewhere, right?! Ah the pessimist in me...
Snow in adulthood has changed meaning totally. At one time in my life, it meant delays or closings - no work for me and no school for the kids. Sometimes it was welcomed, and others a nuisance. But generally, I've always succumbed to the romantic nature of bundling up to go outside and play in a winter wonderland. Who doesn't enjoy making snow angels, snow men, icy forts, and sledding?! And what about laying your head back with your mouth opened wide to catch an ice crystal or two? Oh the joys of snow. One of the best parts is coming inside, frozen to the core, to eat warm soup and drink hot chocolate. And it's even better if there's a roaring fire to thaw in front of.
Yesterday as I was out shoveling, my mind was idly wandering as usual. I was thinking about how everyone seems to be done with winter and snow this year. Snow scrooges as I like to call them. And I was formulating the argument of just how wonderful snow is. I first thought of just what snow is - water. In other seasons, like the dead of summer, water (rain) is much welcomed. Then that led my thoughts to the wonderful smell that permeates the environment after a summer squall. Cleansing, that's what rain and snow are about. It's no coincidence that water when frozen is pure white. Blanketed in snow, even a cow pile is clean!
My Mom was one of the biggest detractors of snow in her later years. She didn't like the cold or the inconvenience that it brought. But in her death, which was 4 years ago this month, she gave me the gift of snow three separate times in one week. As a result, snow is VERY special to me now, and especially in the month of February!
Mom died of a heart attack Sunday, February 19, 2006. Of course we had warning signs, but none of us were looking. She was our solid rock that not a single one of us would have ever imagined expiring from this world. While she was so busy caring for everyone else, she failed to care for herself - a common ailment of a mother.
The night she died, a snow storm was brewing along the east coast. Even in Charlotte, we were having bad weather. When I got the call she had died, they also told me I'd need to get there quickly as she was an organ donor, and they'd be coming soon to harvest her remains. In the moment, I decided I wanted to see her. We threw together what we'd need for the trip and took off toward West Virginia. As we drove, the weather progressively got worse.
All I could think about was how much Mom hated snow and now it was snow that was keeping me from her. It was as if we had a giant stop watch in the car with us ticking off the seconds as we watched the flakes pouring down in the glare of our headlights. Every delay meant I may not get to see her. I felt it and Tony felt it. Fortunately, Cassidi had fallen asleep in the back seat. She was only 10.
But as the time slipped by, I had more time to think. I have not lost many people in my life. But Mom had just lost her own mother less than a year before. Mamaw did not want to be on display in her death. Mom felt very strongly about supporting her wish. Although we never discussed how it made her feel related to her own death, I was left with the impression she would not want to be either. As I processed all of this as we drove, I realized that I did not want to see her afterall. I tried to convince Tony to just slow down and keep us safe. He got very emotional thinking that I should see her. But I was able to assure him that for me, it was the better solution, and thanks to Mom's intervention with the snow, I could see the conclusion clearly.
A few days before Mom died, a teenager at her church had died in a car accident. It was a tragic loss for her and the church as it was the pastor's daughter. The girl had wanted to be cremated. This led Mom and Dad to discussions, and they both decided they wanted to be cremated, too. I was not aware of these events, but Dad made sure her wishes were honored. We put together a memorial service at her church in lieu of a wake/funeral. We gathered as many family photos as we could to make a collage. In digging through all of the pictures, I found one that I felt was a true representation of her spirit. We blew that picture up and used it for the service. Family was the center of her universe so we had a flower arrangement that represented each of her 5 children, 14 grandchildren, and 6 great grandchildren at the time of her death. Finally, God had been her savior through thick and thin, and her bible was never far from her reach. We used her bible as the true representation of her body as her ashes were not available as yet.
The second snow came the morning of her memorial service which was a Wednesday - a school day. She had so many friends that worked in the school system and children that she had taught Sunday school to over the years. With school canceled, they'd get the opportunity to attend her service. I remember waking up and thanking God and Mom for the snow yet again.
The week Mom died, I did my best to stay strong and depended upon my planning and organizing of things to keep my emotions at bay. Being a person that cries on Hallmark commercials, this was no easy task. I had my opportunities to grieve and took advantage of them when they arose. When I first walked into the house, I could not believe she wasn't there. I went through every room in the house calling for her. I just knew they had made a mistake and she really was there. My brother Randy followed me and held me as the realization hit that she truly was gone. That's a hard moment to remember.
The next time was the following day before the family all started coming in. I had not slept that whole night and was up with my sister Rhondella. We had nearly lost Dad the same night we lost Mom as he had heart palpitations in the hospital when they took her in. It was a scary thing to consider losing both parents in one fell swoop. Needless to say, I worried about him sleeping through the night. But morning came and all was well.
I was in his room straightening up and came to Mom's dresser. She always was a pack rat and a clutterbug. I started to straighten up things and the memories came flooding back. The dresser had a chunky wood base with a wooden frame around the mirror that had small drawers and shelves on both sides. As a kid, I remember being enamored with it as it as those little drawers were a good place to keep treasures. I liked snooping through it as a kid to see what they held.
This day as I looked through each item, I held them close to my heart as I realized they were something of significance to her because she had kept and placed them so lovingly in their own nook. No item had any significant dollar value really. There were things like a baseball counter from her umpiring days, a pendant marking weight loss in her TOPS days, a birth announcement from the paper folded haphazardly, etc. A stream of tears flooded my heart as I missed her spirit. What I wouldn't have given to have her standing beside me so I could ask the meaning of each and every item.
I was grateful for the hour or so that I had alone with her. I can remember praying that no one would find me as I walked through memory lane. Again, Mom was watching out for me and let me have the sanctuary. Even in her death, she was Mom!
As I mentioned, I was worried about Dad. I have the same, sometimes annoying, mother hen tendencies that my Mom had. Mom did nearly every domestic duty in their 47 years of marriage. I knew it was going to be a hard transition for him in losing her. The week we were there, I tried to help him as much as I could without getting in his way. Dad is a very strong and independent man. He did not ask for my help, nor did he probably want it. But in the hour of his most needful moment of life, I wanted to be there in case he did.
As the week progressed and we drew nearer to going home, I wondered how he was going to fare once all of us left and the house became empty. I toyed with the idea of staying behind for a week just in case he needed something. Tony said he'd support whatever decision I made. I was so torn. I knew he needed to start the grieving process that was was going to be so painful for him. I didn't want him to have to experience that alone. But at the same time, I knew he needed to walk the path to recovery. A jumble of emotions converging on my already broken heart. I didn't know which direction to take. That Saturday night, I was searching my soul for the answer.
The next morning, I needed only to look out the window for my answer. Snow. The last time I saw Mom was at Christmas. The morning we were to head home, a big snow storm was moving in. We had to leave earlier than we expected to avoid any bad road conditions. I knew this snow was Mom reassuring me that it was ok to go home. That Dad was going to be just fine, and I needed to get home to my own grieving.
In the four years of her absence, I've grown to love her more than I ever let her know while she was here. I now realize what an angel she was in so many aspects of my existence. When someone tells me I look like her, it warms my heart. When someone tells me I have her heart, it warms my soul. And when the storms of winter rage and blanket this Earth with cold, wet snow, I know my Mom is still watching over me. I love you Mom!
Snow in adulthood has changed meaning totally. At one time in my life, it meant delays or closings - no work for me and no school for the kids. Sometimes it was welcomed, and others a nuisance. But generally, I've always succumbed to the romantic nature of bundling up to go outside and play in a winter wonderland. Who doesn't enjoy making snow angels, snow men, icy forts, and sledding?! And what about laying your head back with your mouth opened wide to catch an ice crystal or two? Oh the joys of snow. One of the best parts is coming inside, frozen to the core, to eat warm soup and drink hot chocolate. And it's even better if there's a roaring fire to thaw in front of.
Yesterday as I was out shoveling, my mind was idly wandering as usual. I was thinking about how everyone seems to be done with winter and snow this year. Snow scrooges as I like to call them. And I was formulating the argument of just how wonderful snow is. I first thought of just what snow is - water. In other seasons, like the dead of summer, water (rain) is much welcomed. Then that led my thoughts to the wonderful smell that permeates the environment after a summer squall. Cleansing, that's what rain and snow are about. It's no coincidence that water when frozen is pure white. Blanketed in snow, even a cow pile is clean!
My Mom was one of the biggest detractors of snow in her later years. She didn't like the cold or the inconvenience that it brought. But in her death, which was 4 years ago this month, she gave me the gift of snow three separate times in one week. As a result, snow is VERY special to me now, and especially in the month of February!
Mom died of a heart attack Sunday, February 19, 2006. Of course we had warning signs, but none of us were looking. She was our solid rock that not a single one of us would have ever imagined expiring from this world. While she was so busy caring for everyone else, she failed to care for herself - a common ailment of a mother.
The night she died, a snow storm was brewing along the east coast. Even in Charlotte, we were having bad weather. When I got the call she had died, they also told me I'd need to get there quickly as she was an organ donor, and they'd be coming soon to harvest her remains. In the moment, I decided I wanted to see her. We threw together what we'd need for the trip and took off toward West Virginia. As we drove, the weather progressively got worse.
All I could think about was how much Mom hated snow and now it was snow that was keeping me from her. It was as if we had a giant stop watch in the car with us ticking off the seconds as we watched the flakes pouring down in the glare of our headlights. Every delay meant I may not get to see her. I felt it and Tony felt it. Fortunately, Cassidi had fallen asleep in the back seat. She was only 10.
But as the time slipped by, I had more time to think. I have not lost many people in my life. But Mom had just lost her own mother less than a year before. Mamaw did not want to be on display in her death. Mom felt very strongly about supporting her wish. Although we never discussed how it made her feel related to her own death, I was left with the impression she would not want to be either. As I processed all of this as we drove, I realized that I did not want to see her afterall. I tried to convince Tony to just slow down and keep us safe. He got very emotional thinking that I should see her. But I was able to assure him that for me, it was the better solution, and thanks to Mom's intervention with the snow, I could see the conclusion clearly.
A few days before Mom died, a teenager at her church had died in a car accident. It was a tragic loss for her and the church as it was the pastor's daughter. The girl had wanted to be cremated. This led Mom and Dad to discussions, and they both decided they wanted to be cremated, too. I was not aware of these events, but Dad made sure her wishes were honored. We put together a memorial service at her church in lieu of a wake/funeral. We gathered as many family photos as we could to make a collage. In digging through all of the pictures, I found one that I felt was a true representation of her spirit. We blew that picture up and used it for the service. Family was the center of her universe so we had a flower arrangement that represented each of her 5 children, 14 grandchildren, and 6 great grandchildren at the time of her death. Finally, God had been her savior through thick and thin, and her bible was never far from her reach. We used her bible as the true representation of her body as her ashes were not available as yet.
The second snow came the morning of her memorial service which was a Wednesday - a school day. She had so many friends that worked in the school system and children that she had taught Sunday school to over the years. With school canceled, they'd get the opportunity to attend her service. I remember waking up and thanking God and Mom for the snow yet again.
The week Mom died, I did my best to stay strong and depended upon my planning and organizing of things to keep my emotions at bay. Being a person that cries on Hallmark commercials, this was no easy task. I had my opportunities to grieve and took advantage of them when they arose. When I first walked into the house, I could not believe she wasn't there. I went through every room in the house calling for her. I just knew they had made a mistake and she really was there. My brother Randy followed me and held me as the realization hit that she truly was gone. That's a hard moment to remember.
The next time was the following day before the family all started coming in. I had not slept that whole night and was up with my sister Rhondella. We had nearly lost Dad the same night we lost Mom as he had heart palpitations in the hospital when they took her in. It was a scary thing to consider losing both parents in one fell swoop. Needless to say, I worried about him sleeping through the night. But morning came and all was well.
I was in his room straightening up and came to Mom's dresser. She always was a pack rat and a clutterbug. I started to straighten up things and the memories came flooding back. The dresser had a chunky wood base with a wooden frame around the mirror that had small drawers and shelves on both sides. As a kid, I remember being enamored with it as it as those little drawers were a good place to keep treasures. I liked snooping through it as a kid to see what they held.
This day as I looked through each item, I held them close to my heart as I realized they were something of significance to her because she had kept and placed them so lovingly in their own nook. No item had any significant dollar value really. There were things like a baseball counter from her umpiring days, a pendant marking weight loss in her TOPS days, a birth announcement from the paper folded haphazardly, etc. A stream of tears flooded my heart as I missed her spirit. What I wouldn't have given to have her standing beside me so I could ask the meaning of each and every item.
I was grateful for the hour or so that I had alone with her. I can remember praying that no one would find me as I walked through memory lane. Again, Mom was watching out for me and let me have the sanctuary. Even in her death, she was Mom!
As I mentioned, I was worried about Dad. I have the same, sometimes annoying, mother hen tendencies that my Mom had. Mom did nearly every domestic duty in their 47 years of marriage. I knew it was going to be a hard transition for him in losing her. The week we were there, I tried to help him as much as I could without getting in his way. Dad is a very strong and independent man. He did not ask for my help, nor did he probably want it. But in the hour of his most needful moment of life, I wanted to be there in case he did.
As the week progressed and we drew nearer to going home, I wondered how he was going to fare once all of us left and the house became empty. I toyed with the idea of staying behind for a week just in case he needed something. Tony said he'd support whatever decision I made. I was so torn. I knew he needed to start the grieving process that was was going to be so painful for him. I didn't want him to have to experience that alone. But at the same time, I knew he needed to walk the path to recovery. A jumble of emotions converging on my already broken heart. I didn't know which direction to take. That Saturday night, I was searching my soul for the answer.
The next morning, I needed only to look out the window for my answer. Snow. The last time I saw Mom was at Christmas. The morning we were to head home, a big snow storm was moving in. We had to leave earlier than we expected to avoid any bad road conditions. I knew this snow was Mom reassuring me that it was ok to go home. That Dad was going to be just fine, and I needed to get home to my own grieving.
In the four years of her absence, I've grown to love her more than I ever let her know while she was here. I now realize what an angel she was in so many aspects of my existence. When someone tells me I look like her, it warms my heart. When someone tells me I have her heart, it warms my soul. And when the storms of winter rage and blanket this Earth with cold, wet snow, I know my Mom is still watching over me. I love you Mom!
Monday, February 1, 2010
Nature, the Greatest Equilizer of All
For Christmas, I got Tony the mini-series on National Parks that PBS ran. We’ve been watching them in the last couple of days as entertainment while we’ve been snowbound. Our country has such a large palette of beautiful landscapes.
In the summer of 2003, we took a three week trip out west and saw numerous national parks: SD – Mount Rushmore, Badlands, and Wind Cave; WY – Grand Teton and Yellowstone; UT – Arches, Bryce Canyon, and Zion; CA – Sequoia and Yosemite; and AZ – Grand Canyon. It was the trip of a lifetime. We saw so many wondrous sights.
Watching the mini-series brought back so many memories. It also made me realize that my reactions to the parks were similar to so many others that have also visited, lived in, and worked in them. I’m so glad that our nation saw fit to set aside these beautiful majesties for the citizens of the world to partake in.
The series pointed out the great debates that ensued over setting aside the lands – something I had not really considered before. Being of the generation that just enjoys these parks vs. being of the generation that fought for their existence makes me feel a bit unappreciative. I guess the same can be said of our nation as a whole. How many of us truly understand the great sacrifices made for the freedoms we take for granted each and every day?!
Nature has been a part of my life since birth. I thank my Dad for his outdoor adventuresome nature. I’ve always been a tomboy that has loved to be in the woods breathing unencumbered fresh air. It’s befitting that I now live in a log cabin nestled in the woods of a holler along the Blue Ridge Parkway, which itself is a national park. There is no grander experience than to sit on the front porch swing listening to the babbling creeks that border the house while the birds are singing their cheerful songs. Surely this is what Heaven will hold.
In the eyes of nature, we are each the same. It does not ask us our heritage, our financial status, our educational skills. It simply invites us in to experience the moment. It’s like sitting at a warm hearth at the foot of a grandparent’s rocker sharing the stories of our ancestors. It envelopes our souls and asks nothing in return.
Nature, the greatest equalizer of all.
In the summer of 2003, we took a three week trip out west and saw numerous national parks: SD – Mount Rushmore, Badlands, and Wind Cave; WY – Grand Teton and Yellowstone; UT – Arches, Bryce Canyon, and Zion; CA – Sequoia and Yosemite; and AZ – Grand Canyon. It was the trip of a lifetime. We saw so many wondrous sights.
Watching the mini-series brought back so many memories. It also made me realize that my reactions to the parks were similar to so many others that have also visited, lived in, and worked in them. I’m so glad that our nation saw fit to set aside these beautiful majesties for the citizens of the world to partake in.
The series pointed out the great debates that ensued over setting aside the lands – something I had not really considered before. Being of the generation that just enjoys these parks vs. being of the generation that fought for their existence makes me feel a bit unappreciative. I guess the same can be said of our nation as a whole. How many of us truly understand the great sacrifices made for the freedoms we take for granted each and every day?!
Nature has been a part of my life since birth. I thank my Dad for his outdoor adventuresome nature. I’ve always been a tomboy that has loved to be in the woods breathing unencumbered fresh air. It’s befitting that I now live in a log cabin nestled in the woods of a holler along the Blue Ridge Parkway, which itself is a national park. There is no grander experience than to sit on the front porch swing listening to the babbling creeks that border the house while the birds are singing their cheerful songs. Surely this is what Heaven will hold.
In the eyes of nature, we are each the same. It does not ask us our heritage, our financial status, our educational skills. It simply invites us in to experience the moment. It’s like sitting at a warm hearth at the foot of a grandparent’s rocker sharing the stories of our ancestors. It envelopes our souls and asks nothing in return.
Nature, the greatest equalizer of all.
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