five acts

Treasure Chest

2010-01-27T15:10:00.000-08:00

I wrote and read the following at the memorial service for my Grandma, Beth Gean.

I, along with ten others, am honored to call this remarkable woman "grandma". I have an old trunk that I inherited, passed down from my grandma down to my mother and then on to me. Today, it resides in my living room and I refer to it as my treasure chest. This treasure chest is different than others as inside you will not find gold, silver or even jewels and yet it possesses treasures of mine. When I look at the old brown and black box I can remember every detail of our cabin--the way it smelled when the wall heaters came on, the sounds of creaks in the the floor, the hours of games played and the sweet smell of roasted marshmallows and hot cocoa.

This old box holds memories I treasure.

On Mother's day 2007, I gave my grandma a gift, a purple notebook. On the inside cover I inscribed, "To my grandmother, whose legacy I treasure". The day after her passing I sat in her chair holding the same purple notebook and in the midst of tears, I read her words and learned something new. Grandma had filled the blank pages of the purple notebook for many months and had entitled each day, "A Good Thing". A simple phone call, a chance to help a family member, a card arrived in the mail, "I love you" from her great grand-daughter, her sons working together to help each other through a painful situation, a hug, getting her hands dirty gardening, her son taking her hand in his, an invitation to a holiday dinner, RAIN.

These are just some of the "things" that she treasured.

If you could see my treasure chest today, you would find that it does not latch properly and it is not in immaculate condition. This old trunk is special to me and it will always be a reminder to me that my Grandma did not value possessions but she looked for the "good things" in each day and in each person in her life.

This is my grandmother, whose legacy I will treasure.

To my Grandpa--As I watch you in your heart break, I can't help but say "thank you for loving Grandma so well. It has been the greatest gift you could have given to your children, grandchildren and all these precious great grandchildren.

just show up...

2009-05-21T22:00:00.000-07:00

the other day, my husband said that he is 'amazed at my "ability" to quickly form a friendship with anyone that i meet and can not believe that acquaintances open up to me so easily'. i've never thought of myself as a wise relationship "guru" and yet i began to ponder his thoughts further......

it is possible that i inherited or learned these skills from my parents. growing up i was very aware that my parents knew how to love others, even if it hurt them in the end. they loved with their whole hearts, unconditionally. everyone always felt at home around them and quickly became family. it should be noted that my parents' contagious love for God is what led me to fall in love with my Father and to begin to grasp His affections for me .

i do love people, i love to entertain, and to just be together. over the last few years, i have observed that most people are truly lonely and desire real, intimate relationships. the only thing we, as a family, do intentionally is to make ourselves available. we choose not to believe the lie that 'to be more religious is to be busy'. we are very active in our community and with our kids' activities but always have time to have dinner, to play a little longer at the park or to help someone in need. everyone we meet has needs, pains and struggles in life. at heart, people desperately desire to know the love of their Father, our Father who pursues us, knows us and does not seek to conform us.

'Stop trying to save him. Just be his friend and show up'. - The Soloist

i loved the message in this movie. all too often we spend too much energy finding ways to better someone's life which usually means, making them more like ourselves.

before i gave birth to my children, i was a "mother" to seven foster girls at a group home, this was my job. i loved each and every one of them (no names or favorites since a few of them might be reading this) and wanted the very best for them. our goals were to change their current behaviors/habits to be more "acceptable"--we had a laundry list of rules. now, don't get me wrong here, i do think kids need and even crave the boundaries parents give in order to feel safe. personally, my goal was never to change who they were but i definitely wanted to "save" them from where they were headed. over time they began to emulate the adult role models in the house. we took them to church and taught them right from wrong. i can't speak for them in how my love for them changed each of them, or if i spent too much time changing them into who i thought they should be that they did not see Father's love. i only wish that i would have 'just shown up' more often.

"Let me give you a new command: Love one another. In the same way I loved you, you love one another. This is how everyone will recognize that you are my disciples—when they see the love you have for each other." John 13:34 (The Message)

the one in the middle....

2009-04-06T20:15:00.000-07:00

you are our Superman

you are a loyal brother

your first name means "one who tames, subdues"

you have a quick temper ;)

you eyes are green just like your Dad

your middle name means "man warrior"

you are a true warrior in every way

you love your bow n arrow

you play hard and have holes in the knees of all your pants

you are stubborn and strong

you are a loving son, a true gentleman

your smile melts my heart

you are loved

you are my one in the middle

Happy 8th Birthday Damon!

counting my blessings...

2009-03-26T22:07:00.000-07:00

we are under a tremendous time of anxiety and stress in our world today. my family is struggling in a way that i never imagined, we are forced into making decisions that i never wanted to make, our almost perfect credit score is declining--we are facing an uncertain future.

i choose joy......

every one i talk to is struggling financially or at least anxious about their future. i am certain of only one thing--even in the "worst case scenario" where the bank takes my house, my car , etc--Father will provide for all our needs for each day.

i am counting my blessings......

Take some time to read the stories of this mother with a sick baby, this family missing their wife & mother, this mom & dad, this Cystic Fibrosis family, or Camryn & Wyatt -- you will shed tears, you will hold your children and spouses tighter, you may even reach out to show love to another family in a way you wouldn't have before. These stories have changed my perception of the sadness and pain of this world. I live each day with hope and joy because of the ones who have lived in these shoes, that I would not ever want to step in to, that continue to give the glory to our Father for the good AND the bad.

whispers of my heart....

2009-02-27T00:10:00.000-08:00

exactly two years ago was my mom's last day on earth. on that day i wrote this post titled, "the day my heart was broken". february 27, 2007--seems like a bad dream i had last night and a million years ago all at the same time. i miss her more every year, every birthday, every holiday, every time a friend speaks of her mother, and every time i hear my daughter laugh so hard that she cries--just like mom.

i ache to hear her calming voice or her contagious laughter. i will never forget the smell of her perfume or her sweet, soft skin as we embrace. i want to feel the gentle touch of her hand in mine or her fingernails down my back as she "tickles me slow". i long to see her in our pictures, sitting across the dinner table and playing with her grand kids.

the days leading up to her death are still so vivid in my mind.

the privilege of caring for her every need was not without the heart breaking knowledge that she would soon leave us. as i watched her gasp for every breath, i remember hyperventilating as if i was taking on her pain. she was unable to communicate with us. was she in pain? did i administer enough pain medication? there was a medical log and frantic phone calls made to the hospice nurse---and then i recall calmly saying, "i'm giving her more morphine". i couldn't stand next to her, hold her hand and "hope" that she wasn't experiencing pain. i felt a tremendous peace as we laid with her on her bed into the early hours of that morning. Jesus was very present throughout that last evening. i begged Him to take her home and heal her fully.

He did.

that morning, i leaned over her still body, to say “goodbye”. i kissed her cheek and fell, with the full weight of my body, onto her body and wept loudly. i so deeply wanted her to hold me once more as a mother embraces her daughter to make her feel safe. my husband had to physically lift my body up to stand again. i didn’t realize until recently how traumatic losing my mom really was for me.

recently, while having a massage, i was experiencing physical pain when trying to inhale. i struggled to breathe in and breathe out. as she placed her left hand onto my chest and her right hand under my back, she gently and quietly held my heart in her hands…

…He held my heart in His hands...as i heard the thunderous sound of a wet tear drop fall onto my pillow, i felt Him speak to me in a gentle Father’s voice....and i wept. i can’t fully explain the experience but the pain that I felt in my heart that day was physically released.

exactly two years ago my heart was broken into a million tiny pieces. today He is putting the pieces of my heart together again, as I learn to let go and give words to my pain.

Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak whispers the o'er-fraught heart and bids it break. ~William Shakespeare

wordless wednesday....

2009-02-18T14:02:00.001-08:00

well, technically there are WORDS in this post. anyone who knows my daughter will understand the humor in this picture---it needs no more words. Happy Belated Valentine's Day!

every woman was once a little girl....

2009-02-08T13:20:00.000-08:00

i am certain that i was there and yet i have no memories of the day i was born. apparently in the 70's, fathers were in the waiting room instead of the delivery room, at least my father was. he remembers what sporting event he was watching though! my mother shared a few of her memories over the years of my birth day. she was at a doctor appointment for my older sister when she went into labor and she walked across the street to the hospital to deliver me. i was born with club feet but was an otherwise fat, healthy baby.

once upon a time i was a little girl....i remember my mom making my favorite foods, angel cake, and one year a very special strawberry roll cake for my Strawberry Shortcake themed party. i loved helping her bake the cake and stood in amazement as she "rolled" it into something extra special just for me. she had a simple way of making every birthday something grand.

three times a year i have the privilege of planning birthday celebrations for my precious children. i absolutely love throwing a good party; a treasure hunt, a tea party, batman (turned my garage into a bat cave), ice skating, lady bugs, "1st" birthdays, rock band, superman, a nature hike and many more. although my all time favorite party was my husband's 30th Casino Night at our house in Vegas. i am sure that i inherited my mom's love for birthdays!

my "sweet 16" was an entire surprise day planned by both my mom and dad. i spent time doing something with different family members and friends all throughout the day. i was chauffeured around by dad in an old convertible car to each unknown destination. i got my first lesson in flying a private airplane, manicures, extravagant meals, etc. at the end of the day all my friends surprised me at my house for a big birthday party.

the sleepovers, pajamas, pillow fights and girls talking into the morning hours--these were the good old days!

as i grew up to be a woman, my birthday celebrations have been a big party with many friends, or sometimes a quiet night out with my husband, occasionally a girls' night out, or a simple dinner with my family. two years ago, i choose to spend a quiet take out dinner at home with my husband, my three kids, mom, dad and mother-in-law. that particular year, my mom was living next door to us and was not well enough to go out to dinner. she was so beautiful that night, her skin glowed and she played games and laughed--it was everything i wished for as i blew out my candles. unknowingly to me, it would be my last birthday celebrated with my mom.

today is my birthday. today i awake with aches and pains, a few new wrinkles and will limp through my day as usual. today my physical body is aging. today i am thankful for my mother who gave me life. each day i choose to celebrate life and hope to be more in love with my Father and bring glory to Him in all that i do.

2009-02-02T22:45:00.000-08:00

I almost forgot it was Monday! Welcome to my 3rd edition of "Not, me!" Monday. Being brutally honest and living to tell about it! "This blog carnival was created by "MckMama". You can head over to her blog to read what she and everyone else have not been doing this week!

One morning while making breakfast, I had a sharp pain in my heart and then later while teaching my son to multiply by fours I was clumsy with the manipulative's we were using. I most certainly did not imagine myself on an episode of House, "Not me!"--that would be completely obsessive and then I'd have to admit to using my DVR to record every episode ever aired and watching and re-watching old episodes all week long.

I attended a memorial service on Saturday and wore a brown dress. Just because it was the first memorial service that I have attended since my own mom's service almost two years ago, does not mean that I was a complete nervous wreck about going, "Not me!" Ok, so let's just say that I struggle with anxiety, stay up too late, bite my nails occasionally--but there is no way that I freaked out the night before and went on an impromptu and completely unsuccessful shopping trip in an attempt to find some other dress to wear, "Not me!" After all, it is just a dress right??--just the dress that holds sad and painful memories for me.

25 random facts about me...

2009-02-02T17:33:00.000-08:00

I am the middle child of sisters.

I was born with club feet and used to crawl out of my leg casts, daily. I still have a cast from when I was six months old.

I met my husband in the 7th grade, he asked me to be his girlfriend on Dec. 15th.

We were married 7 years later on the same date.

I love laughter; my husband has the best laugh.

I have had 6 major surgeries---3 of which were C-sections!

I have never broken any bones but am embarrassed to say that I fractured my tailbone while bike riding.

I dream of vacationing in Ireland.

I home school my three children and yes they have a very busy "social" calendar!

I played the clarinet for 8 years.

I love to cook.

I am blessed to have had a mom who loved me unconditionally, I miss her every day.

My Dad lives with me and my family--we value his presence in our daily lives.

The most beautiful and also the most traumatic day of my life was the day my mom died.

I do not "go" to church but choose to "be" the church by loving others the way I have been loved by Father.

I love the beach.

I love photography and want to take classes someday.

I have never smoked.

A bad habit that I would like to break is that I bite my nails when I'm anxious.

There is something about me that only five others know and it will remain that way.

I love to mountain bike ride and go hiking.

I have severe arthritis in my feet and have constant pain trying to stay active.

Many years ago, God put on my heart the desire to adopt twins (shhhh! don't tell my husband--he thinks we are done having children!).

I teach a home school drama club called "Acting Up" and I love it!

I am in love with my man.

2009-01-26T23:59:00.000-08:00

Welcome back to my 2nd edition of "Not Me!" Monday --Being brutally honest and living to tell about it! "This blog carnival was created by "MckMama". You can head over to her blog to read what she and everyone else have NOT been doing this week.

One night this week, after everyone else had fallen asleep, I was up late folding laundry and did not kill a spider in the laundry room, "Not ME!". That would never happen and even if it did I would not be writing it down for all the world to read because there is a chance that one of the two men I might call out to rescue me from a future spider attack would be reading this story. My phobia, followed by my "save me" princess plea would then forever be ruined.

There is a small chance that I wrote a blog draft pouring out my heart to the world at around midnight one night while on NyQuil and then lost it--or should I say blogger lost it--nowhere to be found!! Although I was saddened about the lose of my inner most thoughts, I did not repeat the exact same incident the next evening, "Not ME!", I am smarter than that.

good intentions....

2009-01-25T21:22:00.000-08:00

i have been writing publicly, some call it "blogging", for six years now. recently, i have discovered many excuses not to publish my thoughts, often called "drafts" here in the blogger world. i could list many excuses but being a mom to the third power is my greatest excuse--chores, teaching, sports, etc. my husband is always encouraging me to write more, there just isn't a lot of quiet time around here.

my intentions were to start off the new year using "Not Me!" Monday and "Wordless Wednesday" to begin writing again. my thought was that if i posted on these two days that i would be forced to have to post some meaningful thought or story on the other days of the week to avoid being known as just a "sarcastic photographer".

stayed tuned...

Wordless Wednesday...

2009-01-21T20:23:00.001-08:00

2009-01-19T01:44:00.000-08:00

Welcome to my 1st edition of "Not Me!" Monday --"Being brutally honest and living to tell about it! " I decided it would be a great idea to keep a permanent record of all my shortcomings as a mother, teacher, wife and friend. Oh yeah, and I LOVE SARCASM!!

This blog carnival was created by "MckMama". You can head over to her blog to read what she and everyone else have NOT been doing this week.

I most certainly did not spend "Martin Luther King Jr. Day" making a gingerbread house with my daughter, that's absurd, "Not ME!"...

I am certain that this picture was taken on a cold, snowy day in December--probably the same day or day after our neighbors gifted our children with this gingerbread kit!

After lunch I would NOT, could NOT have fed the kids decorated gingerbread cookies---come on, "Not ME!", after all I am fully aware that it...is....JANUARY!

While playing Scrabble online with my sisters, I would never use a word that I didn't already know the definition for, "Not ME!"

Lastly, this is NOT a picture of the youngest member of our family learning to do something before her older brothers, "Not Her!"....
**In all fairness to the eldest and middle children of mine---she DOES chew gum at least ten times more often than her brothers!

got milk?

2009-01-18T22:22:00.000-08:00

...today was girl's day out. it was every 5 year old's dream....we ate lunch at the mall while mom crammed her legs under the kid's table that sits just 2 feet off the ground, we then played tag for thirty minutes at the indoor playground, we shopped for ideas to decorate her room PINK, we each picked out a new shirt at the 50% off clearance sale, she then bought some big bubble gum and showed off her mad bubble blowing skills, we walked, we talked, we held hands. she screamed with excitement when at our last stop, and her favorite, we apprehended the hard to steer but much desired race car shopping cart. at the grocery store she loaded her purse, doll and the "list" into the cart as any good "mother" would do. as we drove down the aisle she asked, "Mom, do we need some milk?". I answered, "Yes, we do." she then became more inquisitive and asked, "Mom, when I was little did I have to drink milk from your boobies?" "Yes, honey, you did", I answered. girl's day complete. why can't she be five forever?

Wordless Wednesday...

2009-01-14T18:15:00.000-08:00

lethal weapon...

2009-01-05T23:11:00.000-08:00

this draft was originally written on 7/09/08 and is an attempt to share my story...

the year was 1995 and it was a typical hot summer day in Phoenix. she was engaged to be married to a man who owned a hand gun. he grew up learning gun safety and enjoyed target practicing with his grandpa. she never held a real gun and was terrified of shooting one. they decided that she should learn to shoot and feel more comfortable with the gun being in their home. on this hot afternoon, they entered a popular indoor shooting range. they put on the safety gear and then the ear plugs. he shot a few rounds, she watched and anxiously waited for her turn. standing closely behind her with his arms surrounding her, he showed her how to place her hands onto the clammy weapon. eye on the target, she shot a bullet and her body was thrust back into his arms. he hurriedly pulled her down to the cold floor and hovered over her body. she felt protected but terrified at not knowing what was to come. standing behind her, he had witnessed the unthinkable and wanted to protect her eyes from what he had seen. after a few minutes of what seemed an eternity, he took her hand and hurriedly lead her through the bloody pools, over the body and out of the locked down room. he was some one's husband, a father, an overworked lawyer. he was dead...by his own hand. they were forever changed and the gun was sold before their wedding day.

fast forward thirteen years....it is the summer of 2008. same man. same woman. different gun.

we are preparing for a five day camping trip deep in the forest when he came to me and said he wanted to talk about buying a hand gun for protection. he reassured me that he researched the new child safety locks and, knowing how i feel about this issue, asked me to give the o.k. to purchase the weapon. i couldn't talk about it and asked for some time. i kept avoiding the issue day after day. our boys, nine and seven, have bb guns, bows n arrows, and a 17 caliber rifle. we have a gun safe, and the boys are being taught gun safety by their dad who learned everything he knows from his grandfather. all this said, i still feel the fear, i still dread the horrific sound, i am forever changed.

laughter...

2008-06-29T20:42:00.000-07:00

the other day we went to the theater to see a movie with the kids. while listening to my husband's contagious laugh...

i was flooded with memories.

some of my first memories as a child are of my mother's laughter. she was one of those mothers who was very consistent in her discipline. on many occasions, she would try to keep from bursting into laughter when her children would do something funny and yet not appropriate at the given moment and she would fail at every attempt. she had the rare gift of laughing to the point of tears more often than not. my mom was 5 foot short. as a teenager, when we would be shopping together, i would often have trouble finding her among the clothing racks. we had this kind of inside joke that if we called out "mom", 10 moms might answer, but if we yelled "Bill" just one would answer (works especially well in the women's dressing rooms!) so i would call out, "Bill", instead of "mom" and knowing that she would find the humor in this every time i would be able to spot her because her whole body would notoriously "bounce" as she tried to contain her laughter.

i miss the sound of her laughter.

anyone who knows my husband, enjoys the sound of his laughter. over 20 years ago, my first attraction to him was this sound. there is an innocence of a child in every laugh. there really are no words to describe the sound but i can tell you how i feel when i am surrounded by his laughter....i am a child in the presence of God, i am the best of me, i smile from the inside out, i desire to make others laugh. i see that this gift is being passed on to our children.

i hope he never grows up.

oh...the precious sound of a baby's giggles. i remember the first time they each laughed that deep belly laugh. i treasure in my heart the times when they make each other laugh. i can proudly say that almost without fail, i know uniquely how to make each one of those frowns turn upside down. i love the simplicity of the things they find humor in and the contagious nature of a child's laugh. i don't want to miss one laugh or ever take for granted the beautiful sounds in our home at this stage in my life because one day...

i will miss the sounds of laughter.

everyone has a story to tell...

2008-06-25T18:07:00.000-07:00

i have been thinking a lot about why i blog, what i want to say, and why i now fear what i once considered a passion--writing.

five years ago i began this "blogging" adventure. my house church community, Apex, encouraged me to start writing. the intent was to share our lives together and for many of us blogging became a way to keep in touch with family out of state. my name, my story, my words--it was all out there for the world to read. i have to admit that i believed on some level that this was a "secret" journal until the day i found out that a distant family member knew about my blog and had been reading it for some time. how was this possible? i never told this person about it or gave permission for them to lurk into my story! today, in 2008, there is a commercial i've seen that uses the word "blog" several times in 30 seconds. everyone who uses the internet has a blog or at least knows what the word means. five years later, i too am a lurker, glimpsing into many peoples' lives that i will never personally meet.

this is very hard for me to admit but i do fear writing. the only difference is that my reasons have changed over the past five years. in the beginning i feared judgement about what i would write and that i would offend someone if i wrote straight from my heart. throughout the first year of grieving the loss of my mom to a terminal illness and the unexpected loss of my father-in-law, i have spent more time listening and reading others stories than telling mine. this has been the inspiration for me to write again and on the other hand, the reason for my fear. i will try to explain. the stories that reach into the depths of my heart are told with great honesty and passion. therefore, i no longer fear writing the words from my heart. over the past year i have come to trust my Father, really trust. i guess what i'm trying to express is that just this week He has shown me that i am holding back a part of myself from everyone, fear lingers in my mind. the painful memories come unexpectedly and flood my soul with tears. i will confess that i have found myself experiencing great pride in trusting God through my circumstances and have not been allowing myself to be human in nature. i have said out loud, "i am not afraid to die" and yet have never been faced with the reality of my mortality. i have learned more about the nature of Father and yet continue to grow in His love for me. my trend of finding sadness on the internet has lead to great fear of what my journey holds. i have a story to tell. Father wants me to keep turning the pages BUT i am having trouble letting go of the internal recording that says, "what will be next?", "how much more can we endure?". as i linger over the shoulders of the bloggers who write of loss, sickness, sadness and hope---i am hopeful that you would see the love of my Father as each act unfolds and that i would trust Him through my fears until the end of my fifth act.

five acts...

2008-06-19T22:06:00.000-07:00

over the past several months of my blogging hiatus, my husband has questioned my ability to "find sadness" on the internet. my experiences with dying and then ultimately death have led me not only to some great depths in my own mind but also to the stories of others' pain. i read, but do not write. i can relate. i cry tears. i am inspired to greatness but most of all i am reminded of Father's love for me. my inspiration for the new title is from the following clip...

"When King Lear dies in Act Five do you know what William Shakespeare has
written? He’s written, He Dies. That's all, nothing more. No fan fare, no
metaphor, no brilliant final words. The culmination of the most influential work
of the dramatic literature is, He Dies. It takes Shakespeare’s genius to come up
with, he dies. And yet every time I read those two words I find myself
overwhelmed with dysphoria. And I know its only natural to be sad, but not
because of the words he dies, but because of the life we saw prior to the words.
I’ve lived all five of my acts Mahoney and I am not asking you to be happy that
I must go. I’m only asking that you turn the page. Continue reading. And let the
next story begin. And if anyone ever asks what became of me you relay my life in
all its wonder, and it with a simple, and modest, he died."--Mr. Magorium in Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium