The one with Springfield

I'll fly away, oh glory, I'll fly away

When I die, hallelujah by and by, I'll fly away

Some bright morning when this life is over, I'll fly away

To a land on God's celestial shore, I'll fly away

When the shadows of this life have grown, I'll fly away

Like a bird from these prison walls, I'll fly away

I'll fly away, oh glory, I'll fly away

When I die, hallelujah by and by, I'll fly away

Oh how glad and happy when we meet, I'll fly away

No more cold iron shackles on my feet, I'll fly away

I'll fly away, oh glory, I'll fly away

When I die, hallelujah by and by, I'll fly away

Just a few more weary days and then, I'll fly away

To a land where joy will never end, I'll fly away

I'll fly away, oh glory, I'll fly away

When I die, hallellujah by and by, I'll fly away

There are certain moments in life when I feel closest to God. These moment nearly always happen when I’m singing loudly in my car, much like tonight while I was driving home from Springfield and belting “I’ll Fly Away.” I am not sure if it the fact that I am left alone with my thoughts and am more prone to feel God’s presence in the empty space around me or the fact that I see God’s creation racing by my windows, but in those moments I feel a connection to someone, something, that I cannot see.

The moments I share with those I love also make me feel closest to God. There are things in my life that I really like, but what I love most are the people I choose to share it with. I could do without a lot that I have, but I would not, could not, do without the people I love. Laughing, lounging, sharing, and eating with the people I love reminds me that we are supposed to help carry one another’s burdens. In the times I spend sharing in life with my loves, I feel God’s presence.

I spent the weekend in Springfield. While there, I was reminded of why I came to love that place. The friends and family I have there are a comfortable group of individuals. It made for a beautiful weekend excursion.

God and I had a lot of alone time this weekend- these times are fairly few and far between these days. After this weekend, I feel not only reconnected to my loves in Springfield, but also to God. Thanks to all who put up with me (and put me up) this weekend.

Those not pictured: Dustin and Darryl

The one with the Certainties

10 Things I Know for Certain as of 11.30.11

1. I have makeshift walls around my bed.

2. I am re-watching The Wonder Years.

3. I have choices. "The world was ours. We could do everything, or nothing. All it had to be was anything..."

4. I enjoy a healthy dose of tradition.

5. I am proud to have the family and friends that I do, and am scared for the day when I am without a certain few of them.

6. I value my pets as normal people value their kiddos.

7. I will be crossing something off my Bucket List on New Year's Eve.

8. I am stronger than I like to admit, although not physically.

9. I am certain that I have more uncertainties than certainties.

10. To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under Heaven.

Ps.
11. I like to make lists.

The One With the Thanksgiving Thankfuls

Seeing as today is Thanksgiving, it seems fitting to list what I am thankful for today- and always.

Mom and pop

Guinea babies

Dharma Bear

Family, especially the near-by members

Neighbors and family friends

Traditions- Plaza Lighting Ceremony and Christmas Vacation

Sleep

The one with 7 years ago today...

Oh la vache! Je te tacquine! On y va! C'est la vie! 





The French were in town on a mini-exchange trip. The big city of Independence was theirs for the adventuring. One host sister was dating this boy in the town next door. On Election Day 2004 while the American girls and French girls alike were sporting their "Keep American Clean, Flush Both Johns" shirts, they decided to make a surprise visit to the boy in the town next door. 





After poking around Wal-Mart for quite some time- one of the stores that the French came to love and frequent during their short stay- and purchasing some trinkets (for the French and for the boy since it was his anniversary with the host sister) they made their way toward the boy's house. 

There were two carloads of girls making the visit before the Election party. The host sister and her car were second in the running. As the two cars approached the intersection, close to the boy's house, the light turned green. The first car turned left at the green light and made it through. The second car yielded and when nothing appeared to be approaching, proceed through the intersection. 



Unlike the first car, the second car did not make it through. The first car later exclaimed that after they turned they heard loud screeching and other horrifying noises, so they turned back. When they turned back they saw the second car spinning in the intersection and a large truck smashed and stopped nearby. As the car stopped spinning and halted, the host sister looked up at her cracked windshield and thought, "Well, shit, I'm going to have to buy a new windshield." 



As she came to her senses and realized what had just happened, she frantically looked in the seat next to her to find the passenger leaning her head against the window and unconscious. Afraid of the passenger's condition, the host sister began to yell... no words, just sounds. In her head she was thinking, " I can't think of how to ask her in French if she's ok, but I at least have to ask, so I'll just ask in English if she's ok, even though she won't be able to understand me, I should tell her I'm sorry, I can't think of how to say that in French either, I'll just say that in English too, maybe she'll hear me and somehow know or assume what I'm saying..." She next looked in the backseat- so much blood. She thought she had killed them both.

The girl opened her door to find that the passengers of car one were there, at the scene of the accident. The host sister leaned toward the driver of car one and ashamedly proclaimed that she knew Madame was going kill her when she got the news of what had happened. The host sister was reassured and emergency calls were made. The host sister dug out her cell phone and placed a call to her dad- the phone call that all parents prays to never receive. "Dad, I had an accident. 7 highway and 39th. I'm so sorry. Please come quick." Other calls were made: moms, dads, teachers, and unbeknownst to the host sister, the boy was called. 



In what seemed like only two seconds later, the host sister saw her dad running up the road and upon approaching he embraced her in his arms. The driver of car one had taken on the role as protector and provided the dad and emergency teams with information and made more calls as the host sister sat in a ditch on the side of the road shacking violently and unable to speak. Shock had set in. Helicopters were flying overhead, sirens were blaring. All the while the host sister wondered what was going on that would require such emergency response, not realizing it was all because of her. 



As the feeling of years passing set in, the host sister noticed that she was being held. She recognized the smell and the feel of the grey sweatshirt; it was the boy. The host sister looked up and saw his face, her mom's face, and many other familiar faces. A man was also sitting with her, reading, from the bloody Bible found in her backseat. She was unaware of what he was reading and unable to listen. Next thing she knew, the host sister was being helped up and guided to a car. She got into the backseat with the boy, as her parents rode in the front. She realized they were on their way to the hospital. Upon this realization she started screaming and crying, " I CAN'T DO IT! I CAN'T DO IT! WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO NOW. THIS IS IT. I CAN'T DO THIS!" 


After the car ride from Hell, they got out and walked through the Emergency Room doors. There in the waiting room sat the host sister's: best friend, Uncle, Pastor, and an encouraging amount of others. Her mother next escorted the host sister to the bathroom. As the girl undressed, glass fell from her shirt, her pants, and her hair, from what seemed like every cell of her body. The floor was covered in the tiny crystals of evidence of what had happened moments, minutes, hours ago. 



Once the host sister was examined and checked out with no injuries, she was allowed to visit the passengers of her car. Knowing that everyone involved was eventually going to be back to normal, the host sister paused at the door, took a deep breath and slowly opened it. Louise was propped up in a bed, pale as a ghost with other French girls- friends- surrounding her. Due to the language barriers between the girls and the trauma of a helicopter ride and an injury to the jaw, they simply joined hands and sobbed. The host sister was finally able to vocalize an, "I'm sorry," and it was accepted in earnest with a nod. A sign that life would slowly creep back into normalcy, accompanied by a bond so severe and so special that it would prove true love for a lifetime. 



Je t'aime et a bientot!

The one with the perfect opportunity

Today looked much different than it did three years ago, although the colors of the season were much the same. I tried to make it as ordinary a day as possible. 

At some point today I came to the conclusion that just because I’m single does not mean that I am not capable of doing the things that I want to do. I would now like to share how I acted on this conclusion, this epiphany.

I went to a movie by myself. I, of course, loaded up my purse with snacks from home before leaving. I was able to enjoy some circus peanuts and M&M’s while watching Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows- Part 2. I always talked about wanting to go to a movie by myself, but for various reasons never actually did. What a perfect opportunity today was for me to do it.

For as lonely as I feel sometimes and as often as I yearn for someone to share my daily life with, I like being by myself. I like making my own plans, I like having my own timetable, and I like making my own decisions (as scary as they may be). For now, I enjoy being with myself.

Here’s to the next film I will take myself to see. Cheers!

The one Inspired by Coldplay, Glee, Midas, and Homecoming Season (and Cory)

When I was much younger I used to picture Heaven as a place of gold. Streets of gold, gates of gold, thrones of gold, shoes of gold, clouds of gold.  I pictured it more as a place that Midas had touched than a place of being eternally in the presence of God.

I used to think of all the things I would see in Heaven, all the lights and all the gold. I rarely thought of all the reuniting that arriving there would bring.  Even with being around my Aunt and both of my Cook Grandparents as they died and listening to their jumbled speech of all those from their pasts that they were seeing again, I rarely thought about what that would look like when it was my turn. I think getting to Heaven is like a homecoming.  And way better than any high school or college homecoming- although there is usually a fair amount of gold and glitter at those.

Moving back home has helped me to paint a picture of what I think getting to Heaven will look like- the homecoming. Before I moved home I felt as though my life had ended and that I was no longer living. I thought the light I was seeing was that of the Hereafter, not those leading me Home.  The adjustment was extremely difficult, but the way the lights guided me and the way my beloveds embraced me and my return gave me hope. They asked my story, wanted to fix and encourage my situation, and listened in a way as to say that time was of no importance.

Although I have no way to know what Heaven actually looks like, this is what I believe getting there looks like. I believe that upon arrival to Heaven we will be greeted by the ones we used to share life with and that tears will stream down our faces. I have always heard, “No tears in Heaven”, but I’m not so sure about that.

I believe that once reunited, we will share what we were worth, what ignited our bones, what we lost and couldn’t replace, the times we loved and it went to waste, the times we got what we wanted but not what we needed, and the things we learned from our mistakes.

Lights will guide us home, whether high up above or down below.

The one with Temple and Dharma

A year ago this time I was in St. Louis playing Bananagrams with these girls and meeting Temple Grandin.

I also met Dharma for the first time and happily accepted her into my world.

This is a picture of her first days with me.

Tonight she got to enjoy a nice treat from Three Dog Bakery as a way to celebrate still being with me.

I love you Dharma Orchid Gallion! You'll always be my baby bear.

The one with Lawrence

I had the pleasure of visiting with the Great Alvord's of Lawrence, KS for a couple of days. It was nice to eat, play, and laugh with them for awhile and to enjoy some time away from Independence.

The most memorable part of the weekend was playing "Put it on a Cracker". Some photos:

Mmmhmm, yeah. 

The one with The Help

How can an evening filled with sangria, chocolate chip cookies, jewelry, family, friends, and a movie at the cinema be anything less than wonderful? It cannot.

The film viewed at the cinema was ‘The Help’. It’s about segregation and suffrage, love and hate, making a change and survival. Most of all, it seemed to me, it was about learning- learning to accept, learning to love, learning to grow. I couldn’t help but think during the film about how little I understand about others, really. I cannot understand how people are so incapable of loving, or at least showing love. I cannot understand why people cannot get along.

Maybe I am super optimistic, but I still believe that people are capable of good things. I believe that people are capable of love, genuine love. And not just genuine love, but genuine love that lasts.

Maybe it’s the white wine sangria I drank hours ago, maybe it’s the film, or maybe it’s the anniversary of September 11^th, but I am thinking a lot about being agreeable, loving enemies, and learning how to move forward and love again.

God Bless.

The one with the shelf

I had the pleasure of working with a cousin of mine a few weeks ago. Together we built a bookshelf. I say bookshelf, although it houses my movies. Truth be told, my cousin did most of the work. I did, however, help with the gluing and nailing. I am waiting to paint it until I have my own place and more concrete decorating ideas. I was going to take a picture of it when I first got it home, but was too anxious and immediately filled the shelves. It was then that I realized I would have to wait to take the before/after photos. Last night Dharma woke me up to inform me that the shelf had fallen on her bed, my couch’s ottoman. The shelf remained in tact, which proves just how much love went into making sure it would survive such unforeseen instances. The movie collection, on the other hand, was strewn half way across the basement. Before I placed all the movies back on the shelves, alphabetically this time, I made sure to take a picture. There is enough wood left over to make a second shelf, so I still have that to look forward to. After I get the second shelf I can spread my collection out and not have to cram as many as I can onto the lone shelf. I love having homemade stuff, especially stuff that I helped to create!

The one with 8th Grade Gym

Mallory Eryn Flippin is one of the only good things that came from 8th grade gym class. I'd say that we were both glad to have each other during that nasty class. A lifetime or two has passed since then and I'd say that we're both glad to still have each other. I'm super proud of my friend for being strong enough to move across the ocean to teach English to some super precious Japanese kiddos. I'm also proud of her heart for that nation and for her willingness to help. I got to hang out with Mally today and it was fun yet bittersweet seeing as she is to return to Japan is a mere few days. Proof of our time together today...

I'm thankful that my friend made some time for me while she was home and I wish her safe travels for her return to Japan.

The one with surviving Romania (and therapy)

Before I moved back to KC, I saw a counselor twice. This was major for me. I always had this thought that people should be able to figure out their own problems and not need to lay on a couch and be analyzed. I knew that I needed help, however, and sought it in the form of a therapist. Even after I made the move back home, I continued to seek guidance. 

I was skeptical of visiting with a therapist at first, but I quickly learned to trust and appreciate whom I was sharing so much with. My first therapy appointment was four months ago. I have come a mighty long way since then. At that first appointment I was trapped under a lot of weights and was so uncertain of absolutely everything. Through talking out different situations and feelings with an unbiased individual, I have been able to gain a different perspective, I have learned things about myself, I have learned new values, and I am learning that my situation is not the end but simply an unplanned stop.

My divorce is a chance to see the beauty and feel the heat of Romania. No, I’m not going to Romania. Imagine being on a bus traveling through Europe. The language is confusing and you are having trouble making sense of your surroundings. Suddenly you can no longer stand the ruckus and you get off the bus. You find yourself in Romania. There is poverty all around. It is unbelievably hot. You venture around and although you are disoriented and nauseous you eventually learn to love and appreciate your unplanned stop because it has given you a chance to see life differently. Romania is not your final destination. It is a detour. You get back on the bus and are anxious to see where your next stop will be. Whether planned or unplanned you take with you what you learned while in Romania.

Having experienced my own Romania I am now slowly walking back towards the bus. I am reluctant at times, but then I remind myself that I have choices, I have a life, and I intend to make it as pleasant as possible.

Today’s therapy session was my last, for a while anyway. I generally feel pretty great about life and am attempting to be optimistic. I continue to make choices and find happiness in them. After therapy I went to Target (I should have taken Mallory Flippin with me…). While there I found season 4 of the TV show Psych for $9.99. To celebrate life and feeling accomplished, I totally bought it up. What a deal.

Here’s to surviving Romania and forging my way through another unknown prejudice that I carried, therapy.

The one with Awakening My Soul

Mumford & Sons

Awake My Soul

How fickle my heart and how woozy my eyes
I struggle to find any truth in your lies
And now my heart stumbles on things I don't know
This weakness I feel I must finally show

Lend me your hand and we'll conquer them all
But lend me your heart and I'll just let you fall
Lend me your eyes I can change what you see
But your soul you must keep, totally free
Har har, har har, har har, har har

Awake my soul
Awake my soul

How fickle my heart and how woozy my eyes
I struggle to find any truth in your lives
And now my heart stumbles on things I don't know
My weakness I feel I must finally show
Har har, har har, har har, har har

In these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die
Where you invest your love, you invest your life
In these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die
Where you invest your love, you invest your life

Awake my soul
Awake my soul
Awake my soul
For you were made to meet your maker
Awake my soul
Awake my soul
Awake my soul
For you were made to meet your maker
And you were made to meet your maker

The one with the first day of high school

Plinky suggested sharing a mass transit story. In light of students going back to school, I’ll share a story about my first day of high school.

It was the first morning after summer, so of course I was tired. I trekked up the “Killer Hill” to my bus stop. Kyle Arnold and I were the first two there. While we waited for the rest of our bus stop group to arrive, a ‘short bus’ stopped at our corner. Kyle and I looked at each other and without speaking we were able to communicate that neither of was getting on that bus for any reason. A few seconds later the bus rode on without us on it.

By this time, the rest of our bus stop group had arrived and we all silently waited for the bus. The next bus that came along was normal sized and we all got on. I remember it being very full and feeling like the others already seated looked smaller than me. I had to walk all the way to the back before I could find an empty seat. I took it and rode with my backpack in my lap. From my bus stop on we went the opposite direction of the high school, but I did not think much of it at the time. I thought that maybe the bus routes were just different in high school. Over the course of the next 10 minutes we only got nearer to the middle school campus.

It was not until we were actually pulling into a parking space at Bridger, the 8^th grade center, that I believed where we were headed. I ended up back in middle school on the first day of high school. I, along with the rest of my bus stop group, had to ride in the 8^th grade principal’s car to high school. We were late, we were embarrassed, and we tried so hard to forget. It is too good of a story, however, to have forgotten. 

Luckily, I got on the right bus when it was time to go home…

The one with the windows down

Tonight I drove home with my car windows down. It was totally refreshing to have the cool evening breeze rushing through while I listened to a completely relatable song.

Saturn's Light- Deb Talan

Saturn's light throws a ring around the moon

and I said my prayers too soon

No one was listening

There's a hush on the street

I can feel my own heart beat

and my lonesome breathing

but my soul's little bird can still sing

I want good love

I want it so bad

It's a seed stuck in my throat

It's a weed around my hope

it makes me choke and I can only breathe outside

or in tall buildings with high ceilings and open doors

Isn't there someone out there I am here for?

Isn't there someone out there I am here for?

It takes a will

just to make it through the night

when to wait and when to fight

and swing and missing

When we meet,

will his eyes recall me?

I look for his face

everywhere in the dark

and I carry my torch of bright stars

Because I want good love

I want it so bad

It's a seed stuck in my throat

It's a weed around my hope

it makes me choke

and I can only breathe outside

or in tall buildings with high ceilings and open doors

Isn't there someone out there I am here for?

Isn't there someone out there I am here for?

Couples kiss across counters and tables

I smile and then look at the wall

But some people hold hands

and they don't pay attention,

like their love

is somebody else's inventions

Our heads, they hold back

But our hearts run to strangers

and they say, 'Look at me, look at me, look at me.'

I want good love

I want it so bad

It's a seed stuck in my throat

It's a weed around my hope

it makes me choke

and I can only breathe outside

or in tall buildings with high ceilings and open doors

Isn't there someone out there I am here for?

Isn't there someone out there I am here for?

While driving and listening I thought back to a conversation I had once about the idea of living back around my family. I mentioned how I thought the idea of living close to my family seemed fun because I could see them regularly for fun, meals, outings, etc. The person I was talking to said, “Would you really see them though? I live in the same town as my family and hardly see them. It’s a nice thought, but would it actually happen…” I wholeheartedly answered that yes, it would happen. And now that I’m back my answer is definitely YES. I had cousins over Monday night and watched old home videos and tonight I had dinner with an aunt and cousin and did some ‘surprise’ birthday party planning for my mom.  Home is where I belong (at least for now). Although I have the love of my family I sing, “Isn’t there someone out there I am here for?”

The one with Obadiah

Three and a half years ago Obadiah became a big part of my little family. Her spunky personality was apparent from the very beginning. Her rock star hair and pretty purrs will be dearly missed. A few photos from our time together.

This was our first photo together. Darbi's there, too.

This was her first bath.

The first days...

She never did like her leash much, but I did.

In her fence. She eventually learned to climb over.

It was my favorite when she climbed on my hand like this.

It's not allowing me to post anymore pictures, but you get the point. Obi, you were a splendid fur baby.

The one with the feelin'

Free Falling- Tom Petty

She's a good girl, loves her mama

Loves Jesus and America too

She's a good girl, crazy 'bout Elvis

Loves horses and her boyfriend too

It's a long day livin' in Reseda

There's a freeway runnin' through the yard

And I'm a bad boy, 'cause I don't even miss her

I'm a bad boy for breakin' her heart

And I'm free, I'm free fallin'

All the vampires walkin' through the valley

Move west down Ventura Blvd

And all the bad boys are standing in the shadows

All the good girls are home with broken hearts

And I'm free, I'm free fallin'

I wanna glide down over Mulholland

I wanna write her name in the sky

I wanna free fall out into nothin'

Gonna leave this world for awhile

And I'm free, free fallin'

I had a feelin' that last night was gonna be a good, good night. And it was. A big hearty thank you to: Katie, Tracie, Amanda, Meaghan, and the 'care cab'!

The one with learning prejudices

I’m beginning to recognize certain prejudices that I have but was unaware of, and I’m learning to readjust my thinking. Why? Because I am now living some of the prejudices that I put on people.

Moving back home.

Divorce.

Not getting a wanted job.

These are just a few.

I used to always have certain thoughts about people that move back home or that never left home at all. I formerly used words like bum, failure, and typical to describe my feelings of people who stay put. I used to wonder how they could be satisfied with the same thing, the same place, the same people, the same, the same, the same. Now that I am back, however, I find a certain comfort in things that are the same. I am finding comfort in reuniting with some of the same people that I used to share this little space of Missouri, home, with. I am learning that not everything is as it seems. Not everyone comes home or stays put for the same reasons and everyone has their reasons for doing what they do. I am learning to be satisfied in knowing why I do the things I do.

Before now, I had in my brain that divorce was silly, which I still think to some extent. I used to think that it was for the immature and the noncommittal.  I used to think that anyone could work their problems out, which again, I still think they can. In this instance, I’m learning that it really does take two. Like so many things in life, love and commitment are choices to be made and making a marriage work takes two people choosing to do so, choosing to work on their problems. I am learning that divorce does not make me a misfit, just a statistic, a young fool, or a girl blinded by love. Divorce gives me a chance to replant a seed in my heart and see what blossoms from it.

In terms of job searching, I am learning that it still takes time and patience even with a degree and ‘limited’ experience. I am so anxious to use the degree I sought after, paid for, and received.  I want to be able to have a job that I am good at, that I love, that pays my bills, and that makes sense for my life. I am anxious to make money and save money. I want to save for the things I long for…a house, and a chance to get back to my niche in France.

All in all, I am learning what it means to love others no matter their life situation. I am learning to refrain from seeing other’s experiences through my lenses of opinion and prejudice. I am learning that although my life’s course may not be ideal, it can still be perfect, because it’s mine and because I have choices. I am learning to accept others and myself.

Also, I could not be happier about the people I am choosing to surround myself with currently, although there are a few missing due to distance and other whatnots.

"Do not listen to your own weak heart, but to the conscience that nothing can bribe or silence." -A Long Fatal Love Chase, Louisa May Alcott

The one with the therapeutic list

I’m learning that so many things in life come down to making choices.

Things I find therapeutic:

-       Rainstorms. Not thunder storms necessarily, but rainstorms, yes.

-       Bursts of profanity.

-       Eating with old friends.

-       Visiting with family.

-       Playing/cuddling with the pup.

-       Organizing/cleaning.

-       Actually finishing a book.

-       Singing loudly in the car.

-       Naps.

-       Painting my nails.

-       Baking cookies and other goodies.

-       Yoga. I really should work that back into my schedule… I need to be able to reach my toes by the end of summer.

-       Sleeping in or going to the cheap movie on Sunday mornings.

“Listening for voices, but it's the choices that make us who we are.” –Anberlin, Unwinding Cable Car