I feel like I say this at the beginning of every blog post, but the last couple of weeks have been a whirlwind. Two weekends ago my husband and I flew to Ohio for his grandmother's memorial...sounds boring, but let me tell you flying has never been boring with my husband. Until I met him my life was pretty normal...after I met him I noticed strange things started happening. For instance, the only times I have had issues flying have been when he and I flew together. I have flown with my family multiple time, and I even flew by myself a couple of times, but with him there is always an issue. The very first time I flew with him was on our honeymoon, and on our way home our flight was delayed 8 hours even though the weather was beautiful everywhere because the airline was having issues with it's flight crews, we got back to our "wedding night" hotel late at night and found or car's battery was dead, got it jumped and finally began making our way back to my parent's house so we could open our wedding gifts the next morning when we got pulled over by a cop because there had been an armed robbery in the area and our car and driver fit the description of the suspect they were looking for. So yeah, crazy right? This time we had a friend take us to the airport, and as soon as we got to our gate there was a line of people there and we knew that was a bad sign. Our flight was delayed and eventually cancelled, we were stranded at the airport, and we didn't know if we'd be able to make it to the memorial which was at 1 the next afternoon. At around 10pm (we got to the line at around 7) we made it to the front of the line, re-configured our flights, and took a shuttle to a hotel that offered a "distressed traveller's" discount. This was at around 11pm. Our flight took off at 5:30am, so we scheduled a shuttle for 4am to take us back to the airport...we finally got over our hysteria from what had taken place that day and fell asleep around midnight, but my husband who cannot sleep without a fan accidentally switched on the heat instead of the air and we woke up in the middle of the night sweating. Our wake up call was at 3am so that we could get ready for the memorial before we hopped on our 5:30 flight. So, in case you haven't already done the math, best case scenario we got 3 hours of sleep. But, we made it to the memorial, and it actually turned out ok as we were able to switch our flight home to a later time so we could spend more time with his family, and we were able to switch it for free (as apposed to $150) because we used a little word called "bereavement". Even though it was not an ideal situation, God really provided for us, and it worked out better than David and my plans ever could have.
The week following the memorial went by in a blur (it was only 4 days anyways as we got Good Friday off) and David and I drove to Tennessee to visit my parents for Easter for a loooong weekend (we both had the following Monday and Tuesday off). David and I got to hang out with my parents and my sister and her boyfriend and the six of us had so much fun together. We ate out a lot, we spent a lot of time outside because the weather was BEAUTIFUL, and we watched a lot of movies...sounds boring, but honestly after the previous weekend I needed a relaxing weekend. And I was so happy that David and my sister's boyfriend seemed to get along so well...they may be brothers-in-law someday ya know ;)
This week went by in a blur as well, as it was only 3 days long, but yesterday I took my kitty to the vet. There is some back story here...my kitty (who is 13, and has been my kitty for every one of those years) developed what I thought were sores on his face about 3 weeks ago, and despite my best efforts to keep them clean they never seemed to heal. Then a few days ago the right side of his face got really swollen and he started drooling constantly, which grossed David out completely and sent him into another "I hate cats" tirade. He had a traumatice experience with cats destroying his litter of hampsters as a child, so he has always hated cats, and when my parents made us move Patches from Indiana to North Carolina to live with us he only promised to tolerate the cat the best he could...he tries really hard but sometimes the cat pushes him over the edge with his shedding or the fact that you can't keep a cat from getting up on furniture. Actually many of the most serious arguments in our marriage have been over the cat, and I seriously looked into trying to adopt him to someone else for awhile (side note, a suprising majority of the people I talked to about my husband vs. cat issue told me not to even try to get rid of the cat because a man isn't worth giving up my cat for, which I COMPLETELY disagree with, but it explains a lot about why the divorce rate is the way it is...people have their priorities all screwed up), but no one wants a cat this old. And now he's an old cat with $700 dollars worth of repairs. The vet told us that he either has an abscessed tooth or bone cancer, but she can't be sure of which unless she does a few exporatory test (which cost hundreds of dollars) and while she's doing that she may as well pull some of his teeth because they may be the problem anyways (add another couple hundred dollars), and that is just for the least that she could do. I started to cry in the exam room because I knew we couldn't afford to even find out what's wrong, let alone fix the problem if it is an abscessed tooth...if it's cancer there is nothing that even the vet can suggest. So I'm not sure where to go from here. Patches seems fine, he doesn't act like he's in pain at least not yet, but once he does I can't help him anyways. I called my dad because besides my sister and I he loves that cat the most, and he said that's why he doesn't have pets, because when they start having health issues it's too hard to deal with. Let's be clear here, he's a cat...he's not a human and I'm not one of those people who think of their pets as their babies, but I do love him and it is still really hard. If he starts feeling the pain, the honest truth is that the best thing we can afford to do for him is simply put him to sleep....we simply cannot and will not go into debt for a cat. I know a lot of people will disagree with this decision, but fortunately I don't think a lot of people read this blog so I think I'm ok. I love my Patches, and that is the best possible thing I can do for him.
And, to lighten the mood, here's a story of God's sense of humor...my husband wanted to take me out to eat to take my mind off of the cat, but I was reluctant to go because we had spend $50 to take the cat to the vet and our money was tight for the end of the month anyways. So we got to the restaurant an ordered an appetizer, queso dip, which we enjoyed for a little while until my husband removed a chip that revealed a big, nasty dead bug. We pointed it out to the waitress who immediately took it to the manager and told us that if we wanted to leave she would completely understand...we were offically grossed out, but we really wanted our barbeque chicken pizza so we stayed. The manager/cook came out and tripped all over herself to apologize saying that in her two years there this had never, ever happened before, and told us that the meal was on her, she insisted that we order some desserts to go (I got a brownie pie that was TO DIE FOR), and she gave us a $25 gift card to come back. She even thanked us for being some of the nicest people she had ever had the pleasure to serve, because she said she has been screamed at by customers for a lot less. All in all, we got our whole meal for only $7 (which was our tip to our waitress who was so sweet), and we get another meal for free! Even though it was kinda gross, I can see God's hand in that, and it reminds me just how silly it is to worry over money...God always provides.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Monday, April 18, 2011
Why I Love Lendle
I discovered a wonderful website a week or two ago...it's called Lendle, and it is a place where Kindle users can lend each other their books for free for 14 days, almost like a library. The only difference is that you can only loan a book one time, and only certain books can be loaned, so the "library" is somewhat limited. Fortunately, I found that one series that I had been eyeing was lendable so I borrowed the first book, The Hunger Games. I was immediately entranced by the book; I read before bed, before work, during work, while eating, everywhere...and it took me 2 days to finish the whole thing. And once I did, I immediately borrowed the second and then the third. All in all I finished the trilogy in 6 days, 2 days per book, and when it was over I was hit with a serious case of book depression that I still, even a week later, can't seem to fully shake.
It is a tendency of mine to get severe cases of book depression, especially if there is a romantic element involved in the story (which this one had), but I don't remember a case that lingered for quite this long. The last time I remember feeling this way was after I finished the Twilight series, but I was depressed in that case because I was totally Team Jacob and although it ended well enough for him I still wanted to see him with Bella. The Hunger Games series actually ended the way I wanted it too, and yet the depression seems stronger. I've been trying to figure out why, I mean it seems pretty silly to not be able to shake the sadness of finishing a book, and there are several conclusions that I have come to...
1) When I read I have a tendency to place myself IN the story...I am the main character and I can see the places and people being described. Granted, my reactions to the people and characters are not always in line with the main characters, but I'm there all the same. And I fall in love with characters...in this case a boy named Peeta. He was written as such a wonderful, selfless, giving person whose only goal was to save the one he loved even though it repeatedly resulted in pain for him...and he melted my heart. Once I finished the series, I went back to re-read some of his greatest moments in all three books. And somewhere between being "in" the book and being "in love" with the characters, I had a hard time pulling myself out of that world and back into reality.
2) Although the book ended exactly the way that I hoped it would, it left something to be desired. And here's where I admit that I did not one little bit look into the deeper meaning of the book or the real point the author was trying to get across, because many people were disappointed with the final message it seemed that the author was sending about war...I'm a chick, and I was most interested in how the romance would play out. And it seemed slapped on like an afterthought. It just felt incomplete and left me feeling empty and disappointed, and I was not the only reader who felt that way. It by no means ruined the trilogy for me, I still loved it, but it did leave me imagining different endings that would resolve my feeling of incompleteness for a good week, and hence made it impossible come back to reality.
3) I may be a bit obsessed with books and have a serious mental problem...sometimes I think my husband believes this is one and only true conclusion as he only reads non-fiction and doesn't understand getting this wrapped up in a fictional story.
But I digress...good books, I definitely recommend them for an entertaining read.
In fact, I just got an email that said that I only have 3 days left with the first book...I think I may just go back and read it again...
It is a tendency of mine to get severe cases of book depression, especially if there is a romantic element involved in the story (which this one had), but I don't remember a case that lingered for quite this long. The last time I remember feeling this way was after I finished the Twilight series, but I was depressed in that case because I was totally Team Jacob and although it ended well enough for him I still wanted to see him with Bella. The Hunger Games series actually ended the way I wanted it too, and yet the depression seems stronger. I've been trying to figure out why, I mean it seems pretty silly to not be able to shake the sadness of finishing a book, and there are several conclusions that I have come to...
1) When I read I have a tendency to place myself IN the story...I am the main character and I can see the places and people being described. Granted, my reactions to the people and characters are not always in line with the main characters, but I'm there all the same. And I fall in love with characters...in this case a boy named Peeta. He was written as such a wonderful, selfless, giving person whose only goal was to save the one he loved even though it repeatedly resulted in pain for him...and he melted my heart. Once I finished the series, I went back to re-read some of his greatest moments in all three books. And somewhere between being "in" the book and being "in love" with the characters, I had a hard time pulling myself out of that world and back into reality.
2) Although the book ended exactly the way that I hoped it would, it left something to be desired. And here's where I admit that I did not one little bit look into the deeper meaning of the book or the real point the author was trying to get across, because many people were disappointed with the final message it seemed that the author was sending about war...I'm a chick, and I was most interested in how the romance would play out. And it seemed slapped on like an afterthought. It just felt incomplete and left me feeling empty and disappointed, and I was not the only reader who felt that way. It by no means ruined the trilogy for me, I still loved it, but it did leave me imagining different endings that would resolve my feeling of incompleteness for a good week, and hence made it impossible come back to reality.
3) I may be a bit obsessed with books and have a serious mental problem...sometimes I think my husband believes this is one and only true conclusion as he only reads non-fiction and doesn't understand getting this wrapped up in a fictional story.
But I digress...good books, I definitely recommend them for an entertaining read.
In fact, I just got an email that said that I only have 3 days left with the first book...I think I may just go back and read it again...
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Sadness and Joy
The past few weeks have been a whirlwind of activity and of emotion...until now I haven't really had much of a chance to take a breath, much less organize my thoughts into a readable blog format. I'm still not really sure this will be a readable entry, but I'll give it a go. Where to start though?
On April Fool's Day, David and I were enjoying "Married People's Big Night Out" which was a couples night thrown by our church complete with a fancy catered dinner, live entertainment and slow dancing, when both of our phones started vibrating, his first, mine shortly after, and we just knew what it meant. I don't think either of us wanted to acknowledge it, but we had a difficult time enjoying the rest of the evening until finally the event ended and David returned the phone call from his mom and we heard the news that we were expecting, but dreading. David's grandmother Leora had passed away. She was recently diagnosed with a liver disease, but her doctors were confident that a simple surgery would help her at least live comfortably with her ailment. However, she went from bad to worse after the surgery. I don't know that she had many if any conscious moments after the surgery, and her husband of almost 60 years had to watch her slip away a little more every day. I can't even imagine the pain that must have caused...just thinking about it makes me think that loving someone that much just isn't worth the pain of watching them die...or that the best way to die is together in a tragic accident instead of watching the life slowly drain from the person you love the most in the world. He is completely lost now without her...she truly was his other half.
It hasn't really sunk in for David yet that she is truly gone. That's one blessing/curse about living so far away...that what's happening at home doesn't seem like reality. We have cried together a couple of times, and at one point he looked at me with tears in his eyes and said "When is it going to be your turn?" I knew exactly what he meant. He has lost two grandparents in the past couple of years, and all of mine are still alive and in great health. He didn't say what he said to be mean, but out of sorrow and desperation. I don't hold that against him. His heart is hurting.
Leora was a wonderful grandmother-in-law. She was always bubbly, the life of the party, and her mission in life was to make sure that everyone was having a great time and no one was feeling left out. I still remember sitting uncomfortably at bridal showers for David's relatives with a bunch of people I didn't know, and she would sit down next to me and would whisper and joke with me throughout the whole event. And don't tell anyone this, but out of all of David's grandparents, she was by far my favorite. The last time we saw her was at Christmas...even then she was swollen and could barely catch her breath, but she was determined to hand out her Christmas gifts to each of her grandchildren, including me, and tell each of us how much she loved us with a tear in her eye. It was as if she knew that that moment would be the last time she would spend with her whole family around her.
I think back to when I was interviewing for that job and all of the support I received from famly and friends who were praying for me...I felt unstoppable because I knew that so many people loved me and were pleading my case to the Lord on my behalf. And let's be honest, I'm a socially awkward person and I don't have as many friends as a normal person might, but I was astounded by the sheer number people who prayed for me. If I had that many supporters, just picture how many people were praying on behalf of Leora, the pastor's wife and the life of the party, praying that she would recover and the she and her husband would continue on with life and see their family continue to expand...and yet it didn't happen that way. God had other plans in mind. In fact, He had her best interest at heart. Staying on earth meant suffering for her, but I've heard from people who were with her when she took her last breath that she opened her eyes for the briefest moment and the look on her face was that of pure joy...Jesus was coming for her to take her away from the pain of this world, and she was happy to see him coming for her. If there is one bit of comfort to be gained from this sad story, it is that God really does answer prayers, even if He doesn't always answer the way we would like him to. He truly does know what is best for us.
On to happier news...I received a text earlier this week that my cousin Adam had proposed to his girlfriend, and she said yes! It seems so strange to me that my cousin is an adult and is old enough to get married, but he is 22 now and I was 22 when I got married. I am the oldest cousin on both sides of my family, and I still see all of my cousins as my "little" cousins. In fact, between that and the fact that my "little" sister turned 23 last month, I may be having a quarter life crisis (which I thought I already had last year before I turned 25 when I got lasik and a belly button piercing). But I am so happy for them...I met his fiancee once last Christmas, and she seems like a very sweet girl and a great fit for him. I have watched him grow into such an impressive man, and I am so proud of him...I should probably tell him that.
Otherwise life has been a blur of work, running, Zumba, soccer games, community group meetings and passing out at 9pm after an exhausting day. David and I hope to have a relaxing weekend this weekend, but that hasn't happened in a while so we're a bit skeptical...but maybe (and hopefully) this time!
On April Fool's Day, David and I were enjoying "Married People's Big Night Out" which was a couples night thrown by our church complete with a fancy catered dinner, live entertainment and slow dancing, when both of our phones started vibrating, his first, mine shortly after, and we just knew what it meant. I don't think either of us wanted to acknowledge it, but we had a difficult time enjoying the rest of the evening until finally the event ended and David returned the phone call from his mom and we heard the news that we were expecting, but dreading. David's grandmother Leora had passed away. She was recently diagnosed with a liver disease, but her doctors were confident that a simple surgery would help her at least live comfortably with her ailment. However, she went from bad to worse after the surgery. I don't know that she had many if any conscious moments after the surgery, and her husband of almost 60 years had to watch her slip away a little more every day. I can't even imagine the pain that must have caused...just thinking about it makes me think that loving someone that much just isn't worth the pain of watching them die...or that the best way to die is together in a tragic accident instead of watching the life slowly drain from the person you love the most in the world. He is completely lost now without her...she truly was his other half.
It hasn't really sunk in for David yet that she is truly gone. That's one blessing/curse about living so far away...that what's happening at home doesn't seem like reality. We have cried together a couple of times, and at one point he looked at me with tears in his eyes and said "When is it going to be your turn?" I knew exactly what he meant. He has lost two grandparents in the past couple of years, and all of mine are still alive and in great health. He didn't say what he said to be mean, but out of sorrow and desperation. I don't hold that against him. His heart is hurting.
Leora was a wonderful grandmother-in-law. She was always bubbly, the life of the party, and her mission in life was to make sure that everyone was having a great time and no one was feeling left out. I still remember sitting uncomfortably at bridal showers for David's relatives with a bunch of people I didn't know, and she would sit down next to me and would whisper and joke with me throughout the whole event. And don't tell anyone this, but out of all of David's grandparents, she was by far my favorite. The last time we saw her was at Christmas...even then she was swollen and could barely catch her breath, but she was determined to hand out her Christmas gifts to each of her grandchildren, including me, and tell each of us how much she loved us with a tear in her eye. It was as if she knew that that moment would be the last time she would spend with her whole family around her.
I think back to when I was interviewing for that job and all of the support I received from famly and friends who were praying for me...I felt unstoppable because I knew that so many people loved me and were pleading my case to the Lord on my behalf. And let's be honest, I'm a socially awkward person and I don't have as many friends as a normal person might, but I was astounded by the sheer number people who prayed for me. If I had that many supporters, just picture how many people were praying on behalf of Leora, the pastor's wife and the life of the party, praying that she would recover and the she and her husband would continue on with life and see their family continue to expand...and yet it didn't happen that way. God had other plans in mind. In fact, He had her best interest at heart. Staying on earth meant suffering for her, but I've heard from people who were with her when she took her last breath that she opened her eyes for the briefest moment and the look on her face was that of pure joy...Jesus was coming for her to take her away from the pain of this world, and she was happy to see him coming for her. If there is one bit of comfort to be gained from this sad story, it is that God really does answer prayers, even if He doesn't always answer the way we would like him to. He truly does know what is best for us.
On to happier news...I received a text earlier this week that my cousin Adam had proposed to his girlfriend, and she said yes! It seems so strange to me that my cousin is an adult and is old enough to get married, but he is 22 now and I was 22 when I got married. I am the oldest cousin on both sides of my family, and I still see all of my cousins as my "little" cousins. In fact, between that and the fact that my "little" sister turned 23 last month, I may be having a quarter life crisis (which I thought I already had last year before I turned 25 when I got lasik and a belly button piercing). But I am so happy for them...I met his fiancee once last Christmas, and she seems like a very sweet girl and a great fit for him. I have watched him grow into such an impressive man, and I am so proud of him...I should probably tell him that.
Otherwise life has been a blur of work, running, Zumba, soccer games, community group meetings and passing out at 9pm after an exhausting day. David and I hope to have a relaxing weekend this weekend, but that hasn't happened in a while so we're a bit skeptical...but maybe (and hopefully) this time!
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