Mom is still everywhere...

     My dad brought his girlfriend to Christmas this year.  It's the second Christmas without Mom.  It was the first time he brought her to a function where the whole family was present and the first time she has met some of the family members.  

    She is precious.  Warm, friendly, engaging, funny, genuine, kind.  Everyone warmed right up to her and welcomed her.  She brought homemade banana pudding and a white elephant gift to play dirty santa with us.  She laughed at our banter and our jokes until her face hurt.  She thoroughly enjoyed herself.  She complimented Regan on her home and her tree.  She asked genuine questions and showed interest.  We like her.  

    When they got around to leave, I remembered her pudding and offered to retrieve it from the fridge.  She asked if we would eat it and I said of course.  I told her we would get her pan back to Dad for her.  She waved me off, saying the pan was Dad's.  Of course it was... I hadn't recognized it at first, but it's Mom's deviled egg pan.  Oh, Mom.  She's everywhere.  Everywhere.  

    My girls and I went shopping together after Christmas.  Every piece of clothing I had on was Mom's:  my jeans, shirt, sweater... my purse.  Many of the items Dad's girlfriend complimented Regan on in her house were Mom's or given to Regan from Mom.  Regan graciously just said "Thank you."

    My sister-in-law was in a drive-thru recently, behind another car.  She recognized the tag on the car as Mom's tag number.  (I wouldn't have recognized it.)  She was startled to see it.  Shocked.  She saw a slim hand reach for the order from the drive up window.  It's was Dad's girlfriend in her new car.  Dad put the plate on it, which makes complete sense.  Everywhere.

    My niece is writing the grandparent paper on Mom for school.  My three girls chose their other three grandparents and Mom was the only one not documented.  In January before she died, I told her that I wanted to write one on her-- that made her very happy.  I spent two different days with her going over all of her life as I wrote down all the notes and tried to make it clear enough where I could decipher it later because I KNEW I wouldn't be writing it anytime soon.  I couldn't.  When my niece asked me about it, I told her that I had her covered, but now I had to find the notes. They were in the third box I looked in in storage.  Thankfully.  I took the envelope to the house and poured over the notes.  

    My mom absolutely loved her grandmother Hazelle and warmly tells about the best days of her childhood which were all tied to her grandma Hazelle.  Hazelle.  Regan is due any day-- she had contractions yesterday and more today.  I plan to carry out the legacy of Grandma Mother, my great-grandma Hazelle.  I plan to be the grandma my mom loved.  Hazelle was friendly, kind, warm, welcoming.  We loved Grandma Hazelle, and I cannot wait to be a grandma to my granddaughter, Hazelle.

    Mom is still everywhere.  And I'm glad.  My dad has a girlfriend.  And I am truly glad.  God is so good and He gives us what we need.  I am so thankful.

Praying Friends

With everything that happened in 2021, Rosalind and I were at a loss when trying to craft a Christmas letter.  At one point in the letter she says, "As I sat down to write this letter, I spent more time staring at my keyboard than I did typing."  I agree.  I did the same.  At least she actually banged out a rough draft, a place to start.

One thing that she left out of the letter was her future.  She just didn't want to spend any energy on sharing that heartache.  Would she be Rosalind White, LPN or Rosalind White, BSN-RN?  This was unknown even as late as January 11, 2022, just one week ago.  She is a senior nursing student at SWOSU, the number one nursing school in the state of Oklahoma.  Her graduation date is May 2022.  But would she be able to finish?  Would she be able to finish without taking a Covid vaccination-- that was the question.

Our governor signed a piece of legislation in the summer that exempted all students from pre-K through higher education from masks and Covid vaccines, but he exempted the university medical students from this freedom.  My girls work in hospitals.  They can work in a hospital without a vaccination, but they cannot attend school and actually graduate, earning a degree to work in one without a vaccination.  No logic.  None.

In July after the first round of vaccination requirement emails were sent to nursing students from the nursing department, I contacted some of my friends and family who I knew would stand with us in prayer for this to resolve in a timely manner, making a path for her to graduate with her BSN. We didn't tell very many people and didn't talk about it freely.  We were just mentally dealing with this ourselves, even mourning it to some degree.  I cannot thank my praying friends enough. 

Rosalind's professors encouraged her to enroll for the spring semester even though they couldn't give her any clear answers: not even any definite answers to what their actual policies are nor any promises that she would be able to finish unvaccinated.  Sparing you all the boring (frustrating) details, the solution finally came.  There are three senior nursing students out of about 60, who are refusing the vaccination.  The school and the hospital (where clinicals are required), neither of them wanted to be liable for these students' exemptions. (The school wasn't requiring the shot so it wouldn't validate an exemption and the students aren't employees of the hospital so it wouldn't validate an exemption.)  After much back and forth, these institutions came to an agreement in the form of a document that needed to be signed, but no one in the nursing department would sign it.  Previously I had tried to reach out to my state representatives for help, to no avail.  Thankfully, one of the other seniors lives in a different district in Oklahoma whose representative was 100% willing to engage and find answers.  Praise the Lord!  This legislator equipped the senior with all the specific information needed and then even which official to find at SWOSU who could sign this document.  The students finally got the document signed.

What does this mean?  At this point it means that they can attend all clinicals that are requirements for graduation.  Rosalind White, BSN:  May 2022.  RN to follow after the boards are passed in June.

I cannot even explain to you the level of frustration felt at being at the mercy of someone else's fear.  The thought of spending 7 semesters and not being able to finish the last semester was harrowing.  All the time, the debt, the dreams... it was heavy.  There wasn't an acceptable plan B.  Even with God carrying the majority of the mess, it was still cumbersome at times.  So, I say again, praise the Lord! And, a heartfelt thank you to praying friends who stood with us and helped carry this burden.  You helped make this happen. And, for that, we are grateful.

So little time to cope with the changes

I cannot even begin to express how quickly everything is changing.  This is not what one would call rolling with the changes, this would be considered flailing in the ocean at high tide, all while seeming mostly normal on the outside.  This is another one of the busiest times of my entire life, (the third one but probably the busiest) but this time it's packed with all these emotional markers that are, on their own, monumental.  I'm not a person who easily becomes overwhelmed, but this... this past 4 months has been just that-- overwhelming.  With everything being overwhelming, it makes everything else overwhelming.  Do you follow?  If not, nevermind; I obviously cannot put it into words tonight.

My normal yearly routine has pressure-cooker weeks in it because I'm a teacher in a small school that doesn't know it's small and tries to conquer the world sometimes, which takes every ounce of energy, every gift and talent, and every spare moment to pull it off.  Throw in preparations for Rosalind's spring wedding, Regan's graduation celebration with a BSN pinning, the upcoming 2021 high school graduation as the sponsor and one who will speak at graduation and plan and attend (most of) the senior trip, and another wedding (including the wedding cake) at Tulsa, plus one more highly emotional funeral this week... I'm not done... in addition to my mom's in February and the father of one of my seniors in March-- very unexpected... (I'm going to breathe right here)

The German Feast was moved to April from February this year due to fear of what C-19 restrictions might do to the attendance; this helped tremendously when my focus was on caring for Mom and I didn't have to spend the energy in February to spare.  I didn't really have the energy for it last week either with two days of schnetka baking and one day of silent auction set up or for the evening we spent going through all of my mom's personal belongings after the feast.  My dad is moving.  This week he will close on a new house in the country, outside of a neighboring town.  A house without Mom or mom's things.  A house outside of our hometown for the past 37 years.  I don't blame him. Everything is happening so fast, and I feel like I'm being robbed of the time to be able to process all of it as it needs to be.  It's not about me.  There's no blame; it's just overwhelming.  

I also spent 12 hours on the road, back and forth to the dentist, last week and had another molar pulled.  If you see me eating like a rabbit or a beaver, mind your own business.  And if you notice me dropping weight, don't say anything.

Did I mention that the house Mom loved so well and that we all considered home was demolished last week?  I haven't even driven by it yet.  It was two-twenty-two North Oklahoma Street.  Mom died on 2-22.  Weird.  It became an eyesore in recent years as each new tenant stripped it of its splendor.  Mom and Dad discussed at length buying it back and renovating.  Some things cannot be restored, not to mirror the nostalgia of our memories.  Who would renovate a house with 1980s decor and fixtures? Dusty blue carpet and mirror stripes on the walls, faintly resembling paneling with their width and spacing.  Renovated to fit the times, it wouldn't have been the same, so a handful of pictures and our fallible memories is all we have to remember some of the best days of our lives.

This week I'm working on our spring banquet at school, which equals prom at public schools.  The student council kids and I spent 5 hours today getting a lot of the big jobs done without the interruption of a school day to make the rest of this week go a little easier.  This is another crazy week at school with a couple days of standardized testing for 7-10 grades.  The seniors are overwhelmed with their term papers and just the last-month-of-school emotions that are bombarding them at every turn.  Another funeral on Thursday for my brother's mother-in-law.  Yes, my brother and my sister-in-law both lost their mothers this winter-- in two month's time.  Mary died on December 22, but due to C-19, the family waited until this week for a service.  As much as I'm grieving my losses this winter, my heart breaks for both of them and my nieces who lost both grandmothers.  I am thankful we all live here close and can lean on each other and support one another through the heartbreak of all of this loss.  I'll close out this week with the banquet on Saturday (complete with our getting all dressed up in our 2019 wedding clothes), and we'll have it all cleaned up and put away next week before the next big thing-- a wedding!  Some of my best friends have a daughter getting married!

There's so many other overwhelming little things that have happened in all the in-between moments (mostly good and mostly when people are being nice to me) over the past 4 months that make me break down and weep too, (like our 25th wedding anniversary and Regan and Hayden's buying a house, a wedding shower for Roz and Kelby, like the girl in the dentist's office telling me that something I said reminded her of her grandfather who passed, etc) but all the details get to be to tedious for many, and if you're still reading, you're a saint or you truly love me.  (Or you're just really bored)  I think the biggest hurdles will be behind me by the end of this week,  but the moving forward through all of these upcoming milestones without my mom, my girls' grandma, will be another challenge in the days to come.  

Did I mention that Rayne is moving home in a couple of weeks?  I think she's bringing a college friend home for the summer too.  That will definitely do this mama's heart some good.  The more, the merrier.  I love my home and my people, and our dogs and their dogs, and... and... and you get the idea.  I'm looking forward to a slower summer and a few moments to breathe.

A video tribute to Mom

 

Eulogizing my mom— such an honor

Colleen was a private person.  She didn’t complain; instead, she would fix it.  She always tried to make things better for the people, animals, or organizations that she cared about.  Sometimes she would go overboard if it meant that she could fill a need by purchasing something.  She found joy in providing items that others needed or wanted.  She loved the CBA plays and loved helping Roshelle pull together props or costumes for them.  As the Wherritt girls grew and were faced with new adventures and new household needs, school needs, or personal needs, they always found themselves saying “we need a . . .” fill in the blank, and they would always end it with “Grandma probably has it—call Grandma.”  She also liked helping others anonymously. If a need was brought to her attention, especially around the holidays, she would figure out a way to supply it.  She’s been there. . .  on the giving side and on the needing side.

 

Because Colleen was such a private person, many of you probably don’t know how much she enjoyed working in her yard or taking care of the swimming pool.  She always welcomed her kids and granddaughters and their friends over to her backyard to swim or cookout—especially Rita and the girls, because if they stayed long enough, Wayne would show up, too, and grill supper for everyone.  You also probably don’t know about her love for animals.  She wanted every animal to have a home or someone to care for it.  Some of you in here are probably recipients of stray animals that she knew needed rescuing.  She always fed the strays and made a warm home for them.  During her illness, Denny continued to feed the stray cats and the resident opossum.  She loved her horses and her house cats and spoiled them.  The running joke with the family is that if they died, they wanted to come back as Colleen’s house cat.  Her cats loved her too.  Girl, her smallest calico, would spend all of her time on the hospital bed in the living room with Colleen, even until the very end.

 

I could stand here and tell you that Colleen was a polished, sharp dressed woman or that she had good taste in furnishings and décor.  I could tell you that she loved the holidays and loved her family.  I could tell you that she was determined and opinionated and liked to learn and discuss topics or events, but you know all of that.  The most important thing that I can tell you about Colleen happened just 4 years ago.  She asked and the Holy Spirit came into her life and everything changed.  The things that she used to spend her time doing weren’t as important to her anymore. She was hungry for knowledge.  Different knowledge this time. She was hungry for Jesus.  She read the Bible, books about the Bible and took notes; she started listening to preachers online and watching sermons and studying basically everything she could get her hands on, and it all started making sense.

 

Colleen told Roshelle in January: “I’m amazed at how the Bible is everything ever that did happen and ever will happen and there’s nothing new.  It’s all in this book [the Bible] if you can put it together properly.”

 

Colleen has always been a reader and a learner. Even in her last weeks when reading and learning and even lengthy conversation wasn’t really possible, she would say to the kids, “talk to me.” She still wanted to learn.  Wayne would read through headlines he knew she would be interested in.  Roshelle started searching for everything she could find about heaven and had been listening to Dr. Dixie Yoder’s videos about heaven.  She shared with her mom what she had learned: in heaven we will still be learning the greater knowledge that we seek, but it’s much easier to do so because it’s easier to learn, to remember, and to understand.  Paul tells us in 1 Corinthians 13 that our learning will be fuller and more intensive—we will be not be making assumption or learning errors.  It will all be truth and it will be clear.  We won’t become omniscient like God and have all the answers when we get to heaven, like the world seems to believe, but we will continue to learn and study God’s truths.  This made Colleen very happy and gave her more peace.

 

Right now, Colleen, as a child of God, has the ability to sit at the feet of Jesus and just soak up his presence and his truth.  She is still learning.

Mom's obituary

 

Colleen Ridenour was born to Ding (Wilbur) and Dee Dee (Corinne) Krull on March 8, 1955, in Austin, Minnesota.  Colleen passed to the peace of the Lord on February 22, 2021, in her home at Thomas, Oklahoma, after a short but difficult battle with cancer.  

Colleen grew up in Southeast Minnesota, where she met the love of her life at 16 years of age and thereafter married Denny (Dennis) Ridenour in a small ceremony in Springfield, Missouri, on June 17, 1972.  Denny and Colleen initially made their home in Missouri and then returned to Minnesota before moving to Oklahoma in 1984.

In Oklahoma, Colleen attended realty school with her mom and became a realtor in Weatherford, until she retired about 10 years ago.  Colleen attended Southwestern Oklahoma State University in the 90s and earned her master's degree in Psychology, graduating in 1996.

Colleen is survived by her husband, Denny; her daughter Roshelle Wherritt and her husband Rodney; her son Wayne and his wife Rita; and 6 granddaughters, Regan Lemieux and her husband Hayden, Rosalind Wherritt, Rayne Wherritt, Ali Ridenour, Taylor Ridenour, and Shelby Ridenour, all of Thomas.  She is survived by her brother Wayne Krull and his wife Marsha of Thomas; her sister Karen Clapham and her husband Bill of Dubuque, Iowa; her sister Lisa Goucher and her husband Steve of Rockwell, Texas; and her step-father Richard Gieser of Thomas.  Colleen was preceded in death by her parents and brother John Krull.

Memorials may be made to Corn Bible Academy.

My heart is broken

My mom is dying and my heart is broken.  I can't stop it.  I can't fix it.  There is no piece of it that I can control except the portion that I am given.  I do all that I can but it doesn't feel like enough.  I rack my brain trying to find a way to stop the pain.  I just want to sweep all 100 pounds of her up into my arms and hold her close and comfort her and tell her that it's ok.  It's ok if she's tired.  It's ok if she just can't do it anymore.  I want to stroke her hair and rock her and tell her it's ok to go to sleep.

Stage IV lung cancer that's metastasized into her lymph system, spreading into her gall bladder, adrenals, and most likely liver and kidneys: that's the battle.

I pray daily for a miracle to heal her or for God to take His child home.  She's weary.

So.  Much.  Wasted.  Time. 

She lives 20 blocks away.  She's 65 years old.  She push mows her yard, for goodness sake!  There's plenty of time.  A couple short weeks ago, I held her in my arms and apologized for all the wasted time.  She just smiled through her tears and reassured me:  we all thought we had more time.

Some days I feel like Hezekiah in Isaiah 37, taking the letter he received (full of bad news) and marching to the alter and laying it out before God, crying "Look at this!"  Now, "Do something about it!"  

Other days I just weep.  

Some days I am all out of tears.  Mourning the living is something I've never experienced before now.  It comes in waves and some days I'm drownding.  Some days I find it too hard to engage in the tedious details of my work.  Grading term papers is definitely going to have to wait for awhile; I'm thankful it's play season because it's a new creation, bringing new life into my soul.

The love that radiates from those who love me makes me weep too.  Their prayers sustain me right now.  My husband, my children, my sisters-in-law, my aunts, my extended family.  In the other hand is my co-workers, my dear friends, and my students and their families.  My cup overflows from the grace and the love and gentle care that comes from their actions, words and their prayers.  I am truly loved, and that love is what's holding my broken heart together right now.  The only thing that could heal it is a miracle from heaven.

2020: A very peculiar year so far...

Coming out of 2019, the financial future for us looked bleak.  However, Rodney was hauling much more than he had been, but it still wasn't good.  We were starting to talk to people about other job opportunities, but it wasn't really going anywhere.

We did start the new year off with the joy of celebrating two weddings in January.  The girls were very busy with both:  Rosalind was the maid of honor for one of her girlfriends, and Rayne photographed it.  All seven of us attend the wedding in Kansas.  The second one was my nephew's wedding.  Regan helped with the planning; all the girls did the decorating; I made the wedding cake; and Rosalind and Rayne photographed it while Regan ran the sound.  Rodney did the chores on the farm, even pulling a calf, so that his brother and nephew could both be at the wedding.  Both of these weddings were really special to us, and it might have been just what we needed to keep our minds focused on what really matters.

The German Feast came and went with its usual stirring activity; it broke a new record by raising $150K that day!  The junior play preparations followed in its footsteps, just like normal:  night practices, stress, the usual. The abnormal thing about the play was the cost to produce it.  I spent $8.99.  That's outside of the script and royalties.  That is a new record.  What did I spend all that money on?  A spring for a screen door.  On Monday right after the play, I went to New Life Ranch with the eighth graders on their trip.  This is when everything started changing.

Rodney texted me on Monday that he received a call from Western Equipment:  a driver had just turned in his two weeks notice.  We thought this door had closed, but here we were and Rodney had an interview the next day... and then, a job.  By the end of the week, his new boss expedited his paperwork through HR and gave him a drastically-shortened window for benefits and two weeks vacation up front.  Rodney hit the ground running with only one day of training from another driver before he was taking his own loads the next week.

By then I was home from the NLR trip and trying to enjoy Spring Break, but I was reeling from the realization of this COVID-19 and what it was going to mean for my life.  Teachers met just before break and our admin told us to enjoy our break and we would deal with the unknowns later.  i.e. It's not time to worry yet.  Rodney was two days into working his new job and then abruptly, his boss had a heart attack and died.  It was surreal.  He was 56.  Even more unthinkable than the timing of it was the coronavirus threat that quelled everything social, even funerals.

In normal times, the funeral for this man would have drawn hundreds, but in light of world events, the family asked for a private family funeral with a procession of John Deere equipment from the church to the cemetery.  The guys spent a few days shining up 7 pieces of equipment for the motorcade, including Rodney's new truck.  On the morning of the funeral, 14 Western Equipment men showed up in the parking lot of the church before the funeral and stood post by their machinery.  The family came and greeted them, thanking them, hugging them and crying with them for showing their support of the family before retreating into the building.  Soon, the deceased man's son, who also works for Western, came out and invited the men into the service.  They went in and sat together.  Rodney said that there were a total of 32 people there.  That broke my heart.  It still does when I think about it.  This is not how families heal.  This is so unfair.

While Rodney was at the funeral, I was at school meeting with teachers and admin, figuring out how to proceed with the rest of the school year.  School was called off statewide in many states already, including Oklahoma.  Distance learning became a reality.  After learning the technology, it's not a big deal.  The big deal is the students.  I miss them terribly and they miss me and school and their friends and other teachers.  They are really struggling.  You know who else is struggling?  My college girls.

Colleges statewide went to 100% online for the rest of the semester.  Some college professors aren't very good with technology, either, and not very resourceful.  Most of it has become busy work and or homework overload, and the girls aren't happy but they're adapting because, what else can they do?  We moved Rayne home from the dorm which was a sad day for her.  She had to say goodbye to her friends and a job she loves, for now.  Regan's clinicals have ended and have been replaced with online simulations, which is disappointing for her, and Rosalind would like to CLEP out of a class vs. taking this summer.  Hopefully the testing centers will open soon.  So I have two college girls home, right now.  In other news, Regan and Hayden sold their house.

Soon, and I mean very soon, I will have Regan and Hayden living on the premises too.  They have had home inspections and the appraisal.  We're thinking they will hear something this week.  The plan is to move most of their belongings into storage and upgrade their camper to a nicer one and park it in the yard.  With them come two very large dogs.  UPDATE:  Regan and Hayden moved last weekend and are now our neighbors.  It was a very busy weekend from the moving to building a dog fence, digging for the septic tank, and just being together as a family.

So, yes, I went from an empty nest last fall to soon having 6 of us home or within spitting distance, along with 5 dogs.  It might as well be 7 of us; Kelby, Rosalind's boyfriend from Texas, comes about two weekends month too.  Thankfully, he doesn't bring a dog with him.  My house is as full as my heart.  I love my life, my family, and my school family.  My heart hurts for the ones that this COVID-19 madness is affecting the most:  all the students in my life and the nurses in my life. As for me, this staying home business isn't anything new.  I love being at home, especially when my family is here.  We cook at home, play games, laugh, do laundry, whatever.  Now, I teach school from home.  I'm ready to go back to school because I really miss my students and coworkers.  That's what school is to me-- the people.  I'm not in love with my content enough to do this without them.  I trust God.  He always provides what we need just when we need it.  I cannot imagine facing this coronavirus situation without Rodney's new position at Western; the financial uncertainty would have been a heavy load to bear.  From here it's still one day at a time, but it's not as scary.  God is good.

Maundy Thursday... Day 27 of being homebound

I've been in a bit of a funk today.  It's day 27 of being basically homebound.  Oh sure, I had a few appointments and trips to school, but nothing all day or very recent.  I have been to Regan and Hayden's a couple of times.  School is going just fine.  We're in a routine and still thankful to see each other on Zoom each morning.  I miss my kids in my classroom so much.  The weather has been a roller coaster too.  Record breaking highs to predictions of snow for next week.  I'm not used to being home for days on end when it's not warm outside.  I have been in the yard or on the porch whenever it's warm enough... for me, that is.  I'm thankful for Rayne's and Rosalind's presence around the house since Rodney is an essential employee and is going to work every day.  Actually all of my girls are essential, working in hospitals, nursing homes, and private homes.  Outside of the girls' college classes, I'm the only one greatly affected by being constantly homebound. 

I think my funk is from the heaviness of Holy Week.  Today is Maundy Thursday.  Jesus shares the Passover meal with his disciples in the upper room and prepares them for what's to come.  They cannot comprehend just yet, but Jesus told them of the coming of the Holy Spirit and his new role in their lives.  John spends Chapters 13-14-15-16-17 in his Gospel, explaining everything Jesus told them that night.  Jesus' prayers in Chapter 17 are so humbling.

Jesus prayed:
Father, the hour has come. Glorify Your Son, that Your Son also may glorify You, as You have given Him authority over all flesh, that He should give eternal life to as many as You have given Him.  And this is eternal life, that they may know You, the only true God and Jesus Christ whom You have sent.  I have glorified You on earth.  I have finished the work which You have given Me to do.  And now, O Father, glorify Me together with Yourself, with the glory which I had with You before the world was.

It is finished.  He completed what He came to do and set everything into motion that would have me here, today, knowing, loving, and serving Him in western Oklahoma in 2020.  Some years, Holy Week's Thursday-Friday-Saturday aren't as heavy because I have been too busy to mindfully prepare myself.  Thanks to COVID-19, I have had ample time to meditate on it this year, which is the silver lining to this homebound situation.

I'm looking forward to this weekend but not so much next week.  I'm ready to have my normal life back, not that it's a lot different than it is right now because I'm a homebody anyway.  I'm not afraid of the virus; I'm sick of the power it has given the governments and world officials to alter our lives.  I'll leave this piece with Jesus' words:  These things I have spoken to you, that in Me you may have peace.  In the world you will have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.

A message to my freshmen, sophomores and juniors...

First of all, I understand.  This circumstance that you found yourself in is not what you wanted.  It's out of your control, out of the control of anyone you know and trust.  You're angry, and so am I.  And, no, it's not fair.

I don't know how you feel about distance learning (online school, basically), but I know you appreciate the Zoom meetings that we have.  You actually look forward to them, and so do I.  Hopefully you've found a way to get your lessons completed and feel some control and accomplishment from that.

I miss you being in my classroom.  You are important to me.  I miss my coworkers-- they are my rock.  They are some of the best people I know.  I don't love this distance learning, but I look forward to the Zoom meetings too because it's a little piece of normalcy.  I couldn't be an online teacher day in and day out.  I'd get too bored with it.  I'm more interested in the relationships than anything else.  Sure, I teach you English and prepare you for academic life beyond CBA, but I'm more interested who you become when you leave CBA and what choices you make than if you can correctly punctuate a compound sentence (although that is nice, too).

I don't know how full your days are going to be because I don't know what each teacher is doing with his or her classes.  I do know that staying up late and sleeping in doesn't make you feel very accomplished.  It's okay for awhile, but then it starts to make you feel like you can't ever get anything done.  Develop a routine.  Get up about an hour before your first class meeting so that you can be ready.  Eat on a regular schedule, which doesn't mean all the time.  Snacks are fine, but don't snack all day.  Be active so that you can get tired and you'll be ready to go to bed.  Sometimes when we're not active enough, we don't get tired, so we don't go to bed, and then we don't want to get up.  It's a rotten cycle to get into, so break it.  Force yourself to get up early and don't nap so that you'll be tired enough to go to bed at bedtime or wear yourself out with activity during the day so that you'll go to sleep easily at bedtime.  Taking a shower and actually getting dressed everyday helps us feel accomplished too.  Use this extra time on your hands to reach out to your loved ones.  Call your grandma or your favorite aunt.  Your cousins aren't in school either-- call them.  Share your experiences with them and ask them about theirs.  Limit your screen time, be it your phone, computer, video games, or television.  Take advantage of this time to get caught up on your reading.  You have no requirements, so read what you like.  Binge read your favorite authors.  If you are out of ideas ask me, I'll give you some titles or ideas.  Be resourceful.  Ask your mom or grandma.  Ask your neighbors.  If you have a library card with Western Plains Library System, you can check out ebooks.  There's no reason that you shouldn't be able to get all your AR points for the year.

I hope you can see this time of being at home as it's keeping you safe instead of your being stuck at home.  I don't like being told what to do and I definitely don't like the government telling me what to do, but regardless, here we are.  Don't dwell in a place of negativity or self pity.  It's okay to visit there occasionally, but you have to keep moving forward.  Don't be afraid, either.  This too shall pass.

Make sure all of your school requirements are complete and then learn a new skill.  Maybe try your hand at cooking, baking, or painting, which aren't just girly activities.  Learn how to do laundry or iron a shirt.  Learn how to sew or crochet.  Build something.  Tear something apart.  Keep a journal of your activities.  You'll be able to show it to your kids and grandchildren one day.  Do something you haven't done before.  Don't waste this time.  It has been given to you for a reason.  I have no idea what that reason is, but it's not because the world is buzzing about a virus.

Above all, use this time to draw closer to God.  You have all the time in the world to talk to Him all day.  Read His Word and truly thank Him for all your blessings.  Actually name them one by one.  Keep memorizing Scripture.  Serve your family.  Help out around the house, beyond what is already expected of you.  Show your parents that CBA is teaching you how to be a servant to someone besides yourself.  Keep track of your prayers.  See how God works each one of them out in His timing.  Do some deep soul searching with God.  What do you need to get rid of in your life?  What is unimportant?  What do you need to embrace more?  How is your relationship with your family members?  How can you make it better?  All of these things are good things and worthy of your attention.  I cannot wait to see you again and hear all about this time in your life and what you did with it.  I love you and I miss you.

2020 Global Pandemic as a Teacher

Today was the first day of distance learning with 1 1/2 days of actual prep (learning different technological platforms through trial and error) and about 10 days to think about it.  Yeah, I don't like it and neither do the students.  All the grumbling they do throughout a normal day about school is just an ostentatious display of solidarity amongst them-- either that, or just a bad habit.  Either way, they miss school.  They miss me and their other teachers who love them, and they miss each other.

When the administration called me on the bus on my way home from the 8th grade trip just before Spring Break and told me to tell the students to take home all of their textbooks when they got off the bus at school, I half-thought he was kidding.  I chuckled and thought, "Yeah, okay.  Whatever."  A lot happened in just 4 days while being cut off from the rest of the world. 

As the reality of not returning to school began to sink in on me, I was just... angry.  Very angry.

It eventually turned to Stoic as to not feel anything about it.  Just do it.  It doesn't matter why. 

The general population is basically divided in to two camps on this issue:  quarantine everyone or this is ridiculous.  I get it.  I don't like it, but I get it.

When I started interacting with my students through texts, group chats, YouTube videos, conference calls, and finally Zoom, they didn't discuss it, but I noticed how much the students are grieving their loss.  I'm not even addressing what they will actually miss out on the school calendar but their immediate sense of being stripped away from their peers and their teachers and other staff members at school who impact their lives greatly-- with not much notice.  No time to process or mentally prepare themselves.  No time to say goodbye.  This isn't like going into summer vacation which is a planned routine that they anticipate from the beginning.  It's different. 

I haven't broken down and wept yet.  It's not time to worry yet, Atticus always says.  But when I put it into words in conversations with those who this has directly affected, I get emotional.  I will weep for the seniors.  I will weep for the students who see school as their refuge.  I have just a glimmer of hope yet that we will return to school in May for the last week and have some resolution to this mess and this school year.  The seniors need it.  The teachers need it.  We are a small private school who doesn't technically fall under the state board of education's orders.  We must follow state mandates, as to not break the law, but if the gathering rules are lifted, there's a chance.

As a teacher I suffer from this chain of events every year:  I have my same students for 4 years in a row, 9th -12th grades.  I invest so much of myself into them that I never want to give them up.  Graduations are hard on me.  Beginning a new school year is hard on me because it's always missing something-- the graduated seniors.  It's a grieving process that doesn't really heal until about mid-September.  It's like I finally decide to start over again with the new senior class and start pouring.  It's a curious cycle.  Not that I only focus on seniors... they are just more open to learn more about themselves and the world around them, outside of reading, writing, and arithmetic.  They have their vessels and are collecting the wisdom that flows from our collected experiences as teachers.  They are hungrier than the rest.  The realization that this place called school has an expiration settles in on them and they start preparing themselves.  Oh sure, they will complain due to the syndrome called senioritis and say how ready they are to be done... but they're not.  Not in March anyway.  It's not over.  They aren't mentally ready to walk away just as we aren't ready to let them leave. 

I just pray for closure to this school year.  I promise you, reader, it's not going to come through group text messages or something like Zoom.  And I know I'm being extremely selfish here.  I know that my thin line of hope for this school year's end at my school is not possible for the thousands of public school seniors who have no hope of returning to say goodbye and close the longest chapter of their lives so far.  It's so unfair, but I pray that they don't become bitter and carry it around with them until it becomes too heavy and crushes their souls, because the attitude of "Yeah, okay.  Whatever," should be a short-lived stage of grief-- not a place to pitch a tent.

A hell of a year...

The year 2019 came in like a lion and went out like a... lamb?  I don't know if lamb is the right word, but it did come roaring in.  It actually started with a marriage proposal on Christmas Day 2018.  My oldest daughter found the man of her dreams and he proposed.  As a family, we decided that May was probably the best time for a wedding.  We'd squeeze it in between Rayne's graduation and wheat harvest. I also had my youngest daughter graduating high school in 2019.  We blinked twice and May was here.  My superb organization and all of our experience planning big events made the spring go by very quickly but not too stressful.  Rodney was the one stressing the most because the weather was so wet that it made it impossible to get in full weeks of work.  Our friend Galen said that the spring of 2019 was the wettest one he'd experienced in almost 50 years of pouring concrete.  We believe it!

The graduation and wedding were definitely highlights of the year.  So many of our loved ones were here, like at the house, for many days-- most of the time helping out.  It was three weeks of pure joy, and I relished every moment of it.  People would continually come up to me and say things like "I bet you're ready for all of this to be over with."  Me, always able to disappoint would say, "No.  I'm not.  I have a house full of the people I love most, and I don't want it to end."

Our youngest daughter graduating meant the inevitable was just around the corner...

I busied myself with low-cost projects that were actually way too big for me to accomplish myself.  But, alas, I am very resourceful.  And I'm not afraid to ask for help.  I took on some upholstery projects that decided I didn't want to tackle myself, so I packed my car with boat seats, cushions for the dining benches in the camper, and outdoor patio cushions and drove to Minnesota.  I'm not afraid to drive 15 hours across country by myself either.  I spent another week with my Aunt Barbie. (She had been at my house for two.)  I ripped seams to make patterns while she sewed the new ones together.  We had quite a system and she has quite a talent.  It was a much needed hiatus from everything that had transpired all year and I didn't have to think about IT.

When I got home, I decided to dig much deeper into the family genealogy.  It was cheap entertainment and it kept my mind occupied.  I learned so many fascinating things about my ancestors-- even that Regan's new husband has a couple common ancestors with her about 10 generations back.  Crazy-small world.

Sooner or later the unavoidable, necessary new normal was lurking its-profoundly-painful-self right around the corner.  IT.  The changing of the season was close at hand.  Summer would evolve into... more summer, right?  who am I kidding... summer would evolve into continued hot days but with my going to school instead of sitting on the back porch, dreading the advent of the new school year... without my kids at school, and soon, without them at home even.  Three kids in 4 years was a great idea!... until it also meant that all three left in 4 years too.

It was hard.  Mentally, it was hard.  But it did get easier.  I finished most of my mourning in July before it even started.  I had lots of long days at home with everyone else at work.  Knowing that each one of them was healthy and happy and pursuing life in a way that was pleasing to God made IT much easier to withstand.  Little did I know, it would only be for a short amount of time... a semester, and Rosalind decided to transfer schools and move home, much to Rayne's disheartenment.  They were roommates in the dorm, and Rayne was about to be alone.

Work was still really stressful for Rodney because there just wasn't enough of it.  He just couldn't catch a break.  He was ready to go, but there wasn't enough to do.  We mulled over all of our options and decided to start talking to people and put in a few applications.  By the end of the year, Rodney conceded to hauling cattle again to fill in the gaps.  Twenty-five years later, and it's still not his favorite thing to do.

So, in like a lion and out like...  a lamb?  No, like a geriatric lion with a terminal illness that can barely raise its head who really just needs to be taken out behind the barn and shot... put out of its misery.  Parker McCollum has a song "Hell of a Year" that came out in late 2017.  I just found it this year, and the tune and repeating lines of the title really resonated with me.  The rest of the song does not, however, but I don't even hear it when I listen because it immediately takes me back to the really good memories of 2019 and all that I rode through emotionally-- the highs and the struggles to fight the lows.  2019 WAS a hell of a year, but I wouldn't trade a moment of it for anything in the world.

Funerals

Funerals.  They are as different as the people they represent.  Or at least they are supposed to be...

I have been to many funerals in my day.  Some friends, some supporting friends when their parents or grandparents pass (remember: funerals are for the living), lots of elderly funerals, and a few family members’ funerals.

There is one funeral over the years that I will never forget the way it made me feel.

It's always interesting to listen to the preacher conduct a funeral.  Right away you can tell if he personally knew the deceased or not.  The most fantastic funerals are when the preacher has a personal relationship with the deceased and the deceased loved Jesus. That is, if you can consider a funeral fantastic.  You can.  I can anyway.  I have witnessed a handful of them.  I'm not fond of the ones where the preacher doesn't know if the deceased will live out eternity in heaven or hell.  Those are agonizing for the crowd as the preacher tries to comfort the family with words of hope that aren't quite believable, even to himself.  But the most agonizing is when the person performing the funeral didn't know the deceased.  Didn't know the family.  This one particular funeral that I remember was a cookie cutter funeral that probably meant the world to the family who didn't know any differently or weren't in a state of mind to recognize the brutality of it.  He rambled on and said lovely, flowery words about the deceased as if he knew her.  He basically took information from the obituary and the eulogy and paraphrased it and paraphrased it, and paraphrased it one more time.  I was about to be sick.  I just wanted him to shut up.  I wanted to stand up and object.  I wanted to walk out.  I couldn't believe it.  I just couldn't believe it.  I still can't believe it, years later.  I wanted to cry for the deceased, just because of the way the service was going, not because of my loss.

The only reason I can handle it now is because I really think I was the only one to feel that way.  I saw it from beginning to end.  Nothing was original.  I think when the deceased is unknown to those organizing the funeral service,  the officiant starts to stereotype the deceased and tries to tailor a service accordingly.  They learn things from the family and start to build the message.  Oh, this person was strong-willed and a hard worker... use paragraphs A and C.  Oh, this person was meek and a wonderful mother...  pull paragraphs E and B for her.  Nothing celebrated the uniqueness of the person.  But to the other grievers attending that day, this was a funeral complete with beautiful flowers and the 23rd Psalm.  His Word and "The Old Rugged Cross" did praise God that day.  I believe God deserves so much more.  The deceased, who did love God, deserved so much more.  For all these reasons, this was the saddest funeral I've ever been to in my life.

a weekend near Davis

Katy Trail- between Dougherty and Falls Creek

Rodney decided to take a short trip with each of his daughters on his motorcycle this summer.  Rodney took Regan to the Turner Falls area, and the rest of us decided to tag along in my car... separately.  It worked out really well because Rosalind and Rayne were going to Falls Creek Church Camp just a few miles from our cabin the following Monday, so the three of us stayed an extra night and I dropped them off. 




We stayed at a place call Rock Creek Retreat.  It was really neat and peaceful and private.  The cabin was called Copper Cabana and suited the 5 of us really well.  Rodney and Regan rode lots of miles in beautiful foliage on winding county roads while the rest of us read, a lot.  It was so nice.  Rodney and Regan left on Sunday afternoon for home to get back for work on Monday, and the campers and I stayed.

Rosalind and Rayne on Bromide Hill overlooking Sulfur

Rosalind, Rayne and I rode up to Sulfur and visited the springs at the Chickasaw National Park.  We walked a lengthy trail and drove up to Bromide Hill.  After supper we returned to our cabin.  The next morning we lounged around before leaving.  We drove into Davis and around Turner Falls.  We didn't enter the park because it was pretty expensive- $12 per person plus $12 for the car.  We decided to take pictures from the free lookout instead. 

This marker was up at the lookout, near Turner Falls

Cash register at the soda fountain

We ate lunch downtown Davis in a neat little bistro that served quiche.  Happy girls were we!  Across the street was a drug store that had a soda fountain in it.  Twenty ounce milkshakes for $3.  What a bargain!  Soon it was time to drop the girls off at camp.  It was chaos.  Organized chaos, but chaos nevertheless.  Falls Creek is set up for 8000 students per week for 6 weeks a summer; it functions like a well oiled machine.


Driving home after a weekend full of family was a little different.  When I-35 got too congested, I cut through the country, driving down roads I had never been on before.  It was also then I noticed I had quiet a few bites; however, it wasn't until I got home that I realized that I was covered in them.  Chiggers.  Ugh.


I literally looked like I had the chicken pox because they weren't just around my feet... they were spaced from by ankles to my shoulders.  About 70 of them.  All of us ended up with them.  The girls didn't suffer as much and Rodney and I did.  Rodney had about 35 on his ankle in the space of 2x2 inches.  And the crazy thing is that none of us ever got into any grass, foliage, etc.  None.  And the only place we were all together was at the cabin besides eating out.


I still look like I'm recovering from the chicken pox, but I'm not sleeping with ice packs anymore, so I have decided that I just might live.  Chiggers suck.

Becoming an outlaster...

I cannot believe it's been almost 6 months since I last posted.  I could write a book on what I've learned since then.  But, you didn't sign up for that, so here's a couple of our latest blessings.

The back story...  On the eve of Easter, (silent Saturday) we had a little family meeting.  We were trying to decide where to go to church for Easter.  We basically had three choices:  our home church that we left a couple years ago, our current church we've transiently settled on, or a new LifeChurch.tv plant (The Edge) that is about a year old.  Everyone had a different idea and different motives.  We went to bed with the decision unsettled.

Easter morning, Rodney and I made the executive decision together and told the girls that we were going to The Edge.  My oldest had made plans to go with a friend to our home church, and I told her to call it off because she was going with us.  She was not happy with me but did not protest.

We got dressed, got in the car and drove to church without much discussion or conversation.

Of course there were people there who we knew.  We have a broad range of people with whom we are acquainted on this half of the state.  We had an idea what it would be like, but we just couldn't make ourselves go before now.

After the service, walking to the car, I asked my oldest if she was glad that I made her come.  She was.  She was radiant as were the rest of us.  We've been every Sunday since.

One series that Craig Groeschel just finished was called Outlasters.  If you're familiar with Bruce Wilkenson's three chair series, it's very similar.  Our kids were hanging on every word.  He talked about learning to appreciate work and embrace it as well as leaving a legacy and developing a real one-on-one relationship with God and not settling with a vicarious one through a parent.  Believe me, that's the scarce nutshell of the fantastic series.

Shifting gears...  Regan's choir director nominated her to go with the Voyageurs Ambassadors of Music organization on a 15 day European concert tour next summer.  After we received the information, we attended a meeting to learn more.  Basically she wants to go, Rosalind can go, too, and oh, it's going to cost $5745 per child.  Yes, you read that correctly, and no, we don't have that kind of cash.

After chewing on it for a weekend, we pinned the girls down on their commitment to do this or not.  My parents see the tremendous opportunity and have the means and offered to pay half if the girls could come up with the other half.  So we told the girls that if they would come up with half of their half, we'd match it.  That is $2872.

Our girls have always had some type of summer job but never anything that required 100% of them all the time.  They don't need anything really, and accumulating cash wasn't really a concern for them.

Putting it all together...  But this... this opportunity along with the teaching they are hearing and personally agreeing with from church has lit a fire under them.  We helped them organize a bit but have made them do all the work.  Last week was their first full week of work, and those three teenage girls legitimately raked in $865 together.  We're not talking about grossly overpaid donations, but justifiable payment for work performed.  They are beating the streets, taking on odd jobs, washing vehicles, hauling off junk piles, house cleaning, and working their summer babysitting and other jobs, working for my dad and brother-in-law. Now, I'm not anticipating that they can pull this off every week with church camps, ball camps and mission trips, etc., but they have an opportunity to meet their goal, and they've proven to themselves that they can do this with maximum effort.

Another thing that happened this week is my mother-in-law tripped over a cat and fell into the house and broke her arm below the shoulder in a place that cannot be casted, only immobilized.  Thus, she needs someone to be with her much of the day to help her with her personal needs, the garden and keep her house functioning.  This has been another way for my girls' other grandparents to help with this European trip.  They have offered to pay the girls to take turns helping care for her.  If the girls weren't available, they'd have to hire someone else to do this because no one is available all of the time.  This unfortunate situation provides Rodney's parents a way to contribute hugely by providing them a job while meeting a crucial need of their own.

The gift...  Without this trip on the horizon and the Outlasters series in church, I don't think we could have motivated our girls to work like they have.  I don't see it ending either.  Rayne isn't going to Europe next summer because she will still be too young, but she and Rosalind will be able to go in 2017.  The three girls have a deal worked out so that Rayne will help them work this summer, but she will also receive some money along. The summer of 2017 is a VERY long ways away for a 13 year old to stay focused on with no reward.  So this working for something will be perpetual for them, and hopefully they will learn many many lessons from it and create habits for a lifetime.  What a blessing we have been given, and we are extremely thankful.

Happy New Year from Rodney and Roshelle...

With 2013 just a memory now, this is what our family has to look back on…

Places we went: 

We spent some of spring break in Colorado skiing Wolf Creek.  We took our friend Galen Yoder with us and ran into the Todd and Dana Smith on the slopes also.  The weather and snow were perfect—great skiing, as always.  Wolf Creek has yet to disappoint us.

Skiing Wolf Creek-- good times!

Rayne at the lake over the
4th of July with the Gouchers

Over the 4^th of July, we went to Steve and Lisa’s place in Texas  and spent a couple days on the lake, which were our only lake days for the year.  I hope the drought is over and we can get enough moisture soon to fill our lakes again.

Steer wrestling was
our favorite event

Just before school started, we spent a week in Colorado, Wyoming, and Kansas.  We set out for the Cheyenne Frontier Days Rodeo and saw 3 rodeos, the parade, and a Luke Bryan concert (in the rain).  The girls loved every minute of it and want to go back for the whole week this year.  We met one of my oldest friends, Nancy, for lunch in Denver both coming and going (once at Casa Bonita) and went out to Evergreen to spend an afternoon with Rodney’s cousin John and his wife Dawn.  On the way home, we stayed a couple nights in Kansas with Lee, our harvester for so many years.  He’s like family to us and since we sold the farm and changed our lives, we have missed out on our harvest time with him and his crew.  Every time I think about this I just want to boohoo, so moving on…  While there, the girls played music with Lee and his neighbor, they learned to ride dirt bikes, they swam in a pond with a huge slide built on one side of the shore, and of course, they shot things.  Big thanks for Kristi (Rodney’s sister in Dodge City) for giving us a bed on the way; it’s nice to wake up with 4-5 hours behind you already when traveling.

Kate, (Lee's daughter) Rosalind and Regan coming down the slide at the pond

All three girls learned to ride dirt bikes this summer.  Rayne even had one on her Christmas list.

What’s new with….

Rodney—He spent more time riding motorcycles with my dad and my brother this year.  He’s riding a Harley now- a black 2012 street glider.  And quite simply, he’s loving it.  I’m glad, too.  Those guys work hard and need some time to get away and do what they like to do.  Granted, riding isn’t my favorite thing; I can do it for a few hours at a time when it’s warm… really warm, but he doesn’t need me to have a good time.  Rodney still enjoys his work in the oilfield and doesn’t miss the farming. 

Wayne, Dad and Rodney getting ready for a long weekend ride

Rosalind—She now has braces like Regan.  Just yesterday the dentist removed her palate expanders (upper and lower) and she can talk again.  Actually, it must not have been too terrible as she made Western Oklahoma honor choir when the tryouts were just 3 days after getting her braces and expanders.  Her musical talent is starting to shine.  She’s still in piano lessons and is a little songbird.  For Christmas, Rodney and I bought the girls a keyboard workstation, an amplifier, microphones, and an interface (piece of hardware that mixes and records).  The possibilities are endless with this equipment… definitely something they will use a lot and won’t ever outgrow.  Rosalind just turned 14 this week and is an 8^th grader.  She’s playing basketball and earned a starting position on the junior high team.  We’re very proud of this girl.

Regan and Rosalind

Regan—Bless her heart, she turned 16 this summer and loves driving her blue pickup-truck everywhere and anywhere.  Like all teenagers, she’s growing and maturing and learning life lessons—some are easy where others have been quite life-altering experiences.  Going into the 11^th grade, she set her mind to giving her best effort to her school work and to making the most of her two years left in high school.  She took the ACT for the first time and scored well.  Her musical ability is truly a gift from God, and at this point she’s thinking of pursuing some form of music after graduation.  When she’s singing and playing her guitar, I am so humbled; it makes my heart happy.  She is so much like me that it is scary.  Actually, she’s a much better version of my young-self.  Still, I wish I could protect her from herself until she gets her feet under her and the world by the tail.

Rayne Elise 

Rayne—Her biggest change this year is being at school with the rest of us.  She is 12 years old and in the 7^th grade; and she is loving it at CBA.  Rayne’s playing a little basketball, taking piano lessons, and making friends with everyone at school… 11^th graders, 12^th graders… pretty much everyone.  She picked the flute this year for band and loves it.  She whistles all the time… to the point of being annoying with it sometimes.  She likes to sing, to laugh, to be involved with what’s going on.  She has a fashion sense that is very different from most.  She has a lot of confidence and pretty much doesn’t have a bad day.  She smiles all the time; she is the bright spot in my day, and I don’t think I’m the only one who feels like this.  She is definitely one of a kind.

Backsplash this fall brings
our remodel full circle

Roshelle—Me?  I’m into my second year teaching high school English at CBA, and just as I predicted, it is much easier.  I’m still tweaking and re-evaluating my plans and procedures and policies, but really, do we ever stop doing that?  I hope not, for when I do get to that point, I know I’ll be done.    But really what’s new with me?  I do the same routine every day, except most Saturdays…  I get in the car and drive to Corn.  I have three daughters, so I say the same things day after day… Do you have homework? Who needs a shower? Whose stuff is in the washer? Get everything out of the back seat (of the car).... etc.  So, after racking my brain to find something new, I came up with—backsplash.  I know, right?  But, you see, this IS a BIG DEAL because it means that my house has come full circle.  The day after we took possession of our house in October of 2005, I tore the canary yellow formica off the backsplash in the kitchen, and it has been ugly, unfinished sheetrock, dating back to the early days of sheetrock (just after plaster and lathe) with big tears in the paper and splotchy, hard glue residue, and holes the size my fist would fit through.  Yes, in other words, it’s been lovely to look at for 8 long years.  But this fall, beautiful glass subway tile in the color rust with hand chipped edges was laid, and I couldn’t be happier. 

Where do we go from here? 

Forward.  Not much will change this year, but next year (2015) will be a completely different story.  I like my family how it is right now… intact.  Under my roof where I (actually, we) call the shots.  I’m not looking forward to having a college student in ‘15.  I think I’ll just bask in the moment and savor each day I have left.  God has been so faithful and I have no fear.