Our daughter, Taylor, is 9. All on her own, she decided this year that in lieu of presents, she wanted to adopt an Angel Tree child and give a great Christmas to a little boy who otherwise might not have one. Yes, she wanted to adopt a boy. We suspect this is compensation for not having a little brother to buy for — a little brother I know would be horribly spoiled by her big sister at this point.

Elizabeth and I were skeptical when she first announced her wishes a few months ago. But she stuck with it, and was very emphatic about her desire to give this gift. We ran with it, and through November, she and Elizabeth went shopping for this unknown child.

Family members have been so impressed, they donated more money for the cause, enough so that we were able to adopt a second child off the Angel Tree, much to Taylor’s delight.

Sunday afternoon, we watched Taylor sit and wrap all those presents herself, and she did a pretty darn good job at it. (Much better than I do at wrapping.) The excitement in her voice, and sheer joy on her face, reminded me once again what this season is all about.

This time of year, I’m often guilty falling into the trap of commercialism and skepticism, frustrated with the whole annual routine. Taylor, through her sacrifice and her empathy, has shaken my inner Grinch loose and restored my joy this season. Despite her parents’ mistakes — and there have been plenty — Taylor continues to show a true servant’s heart. No parent could ask for more of their child.

Pride may be one of the seven deadly sins, but if pride in your child is included, well, I need to go to confession. And I’m not even Catholic.

(Don’t tell Taylor, but she’s still getting a couple presents from us. We couldn’t resist.)

In June, I got a promotion at work. Actually, I saw an opportunity to advance at UAB and went for it. The title was Financial Associate (note the past tense, more on that later) and it was for Rehab Administration (Spain Rehabilitation Center). I loved my boss, loved the people in the department but the job was just more than I could handle and I learned something invaluable – HR and Finance are not for me. The HR part wasn’t “You’re hired” or “You’re fired” thankfully, but it was keeping up with new hires, terminations, and leaves of absence. For about 130 people. As for the finance aspect, I should’ve known better. Back in the early 90′s I was an accounting major for 1 semester. But I’m the keeper of our household budget and checkbook (and enjoy it), so I thought this would work. Nope, it’s different. And much MUCH bigger. So, in September, I turned in my resignation. It was a one month, but we agreed that if at the end of that month the position wasn’t filled, I’d stay on until either I had something or they had someone. Unfortunately, they found someone before I found something. The upside is that it took two months so we had some more time to buckle down and set aside. I’m officially on the hunt – if you know anyone who could use a damn good secretary, send them my way!

For Keith’s birthday, I took the day off, had lunch with Taylor and then she & I got balloons. We brought them home, attached notes then went to the cemetery to release them. Brian spent the day with a friend (Keith’s god-father) and had some good, quality, guy time.

My birthday this year was a biggy – I’m the big 4-0! Brian worked with some friends of ours and put together an awesome shindig. It was wonderful! I also did something wild and crazy and got my tattoo touched up and added to. The butterfly was faded (it was 17 years old!). I got forget-me-nots (Sept birth flower), a treble clef, and a bass clef added to it. It took about 2 hours and yes, it hurt. A lot. Below is a pic of my cake (yes, that’s a smurf on top – I am a child of the 80s!) and a pic of the finished tattoo.

Oh, and Brian broke his wrist. Not at my party, it didn’t quite get that rambunctious. He was playing softball in our church league and for some insane reason decided to try to steal and slide into second base. He managed to shatter his triquetrum (little bitty bone in the hand, close to the base of the thumb). Several weeks in a cast (or 2 or 3) then some OT and he’s pretty well back to full use.

Some more upbeat news – Brian picked Taylor up one afternoon and when they got home, she handed him a piece of paper announcing testing for the Science Olympiad. She asked if she could do it and, of course, we said YES! She smiled and said, “Good, because I’ve already signed up. The test is Monday after school.” It’s primarily 4th and 5th graders, but they allow a handful of 3rd graders in who are then guaranteed a spot on the team in the 4th grade. She made it!!!!

AND Keith’s garden is almost finished. We need outdoor furniture in order for me to call it “done”. Did you know that it’s incredibly difficult, if not impossible, to find outdoor furniture in October? I know! I was shocked too! This is a link to our Flickr page that has the photos. I still need to add the “before” pics.

And, of course, November 18. The one year anniversary of Keith’s death. I took the day off and expected Taylor to want to be checked out early as well. She surprised me, though, and wanted to go to school because it was an all day science day. I believe that to be a good sign! Her counselor had suggested that we do something to remember Keith that brought to mind happy memories. Since he was only 2 months old, there wasn’t much to go on, but Taylor said, “Habanero’s!” At first, we thought this was just a ploy to go out to eat, but then she told us about a Wednesday night that, instead of eating at church, we went to Habanero’s because “the baby wanted Habanero’s”. This is where I squirmed a little. Anyone whose been pregnant or known a pregnant person understands that, while we genuinely do have cravings, there are lots of times that “the baby wants” REALLY means “I want”. This was one of those times. I remember the night she was talking about even. I didn’t like what was on the menu at church that night so “the baby wants Habanero’s”. While Brian & I know the truth of that statement, Taylor believed it with all her heart and, for her, it was a very happy memory so we went out together and celebrated Keith.

So here we are – 6 months summed up in just under 1000 words!

She also ended her fifth year of dance. I can’t believe she’s been dancing for five years! This was her first year on a dancing team and she did very well. We had a long grueling dress rehearsal. We got there about 12:30, didn’t get home til around 7 and little girl’s legs hurt so badly that mama took pity and gave her a massage that was followed by pool time at Grandma & Grandpa’s hotel pool. Poor baby…. yeah. This year’s theme was Disney. As usual, she & I attended an earlier show so we could just sit and watch. Then it was our turn. It went surprisingly smooth. We had plenty of time between numbers for once. That turned out to be a very good thing because just before her second routine, I was getting her finale costume ready and realized I’d left a piece of it in the car! Thankfully, I’d gotten a good spot fairly close by. I also now know how to do a low bun. Just be sure you give me LOTS of bobby pins. And a hair net (to contain those pesky pieces of hair that don’t cooperate!).

Brian & I are doing well. We’re actually getting some quality “us” time this week because when my parents headed back to GA, they took Girly with them!

There’s not really been anymore progress on the garden. The nandina are in place, the red buds and the weeping yaupon are planted. All the bulbs we pulled? Yeah, they’re still in pots. The lilies? Still in pots – one of them actually bloomed! It’s beautiful too. I’ve since learned that it’s an Asiatic lily. The shocking part is that that puppy bloomed despite the fact there was no potting soil in the pot. We’d dug up lilies and hosta with the intention of moving them. Then life happened and the poor things are still sitting in pots.

Taylor started softball and loves it! She surprised us both by actually paying attention during the game (as opposed to playing in the dirt). Her team won their first game 5-2. The opposing team’s first baseman started singing a little chant to distract our girls and, oddly enough, that’s when they started hitting better. My theory is that they had to focus more on the coach and the ball in order to block out her chant, but that may be putting too much on girls 9 and under.

I believe we’re done with regular sessions at Amelia Center. I say “regular sessions” because we may still need to occasionally check in, just possibly not regularly. Taylor looked forward to it because they have cool toys and crafts. We get some out of it, but not as much as at the beginning. What more I feel I need can be gotten through the moms group I’m in. We still have our moments. I’ve been known to text Brian with two simple words, “Grief sucks” – usually after some mundane sight or sound suddenly and unexpectedly reduces me to tears. Sometimes we feel like it’s been forever ago then we do the math and realize it’s only been 4 months.

Miss him like crazy, would trade everything to have him back, have days where part of me feels fine but part of me feels like screaming (truly weird feeling, for the record), but… we’re okay. Most days. And that’s good. We find ways to honor him and his memory and do the best we can with our new normal.

Love and hugs to all for continued prayers.

I recently learned it’s a flowering almond shrub. More pics here! For the last few years, I’ve looked forward to seeing those pretty pink powder puff flowers show up. It’s not in a good spot, though. Where it is now, its branches can scratch our car as we back out. It’s a keeper, but we’re moving it.

Other big news is WE HAVE OUR REDBUDS! It was going to be just one, but our friend managed to find some from last season, so he snagged me one of those as well!

Here they are leaned against the fence. We’ll be figuring out exactly where we’ll put them and then planting them hopefully this weekend.

One of them is already blooming, giving us a little taste of things to come!

More pics to come as we work on it.

The next few days were a mix of happiness and frustration. Frustration mostly as I reacquainted myself with the care of a newborn and happiness… as I reacquainted myself with the care of a newborn. Life’s odd that way.

I miss him. I’ve at least finished the melody to what would likely have been his lullaby. There’s a fragment of another song I would sing to him too. I always found it odd that it was in a minor key. Now, it seems fitting. I think the main reason I didn’t flesh that one out is because I didn’t like the idea of singing a “minor” song to my baby. I’m still not sure I’ll do anything with it. We’ll see.

Taylor & I went to her god-sister’s 1st birthday party on Saturday. It was wonderful – she was adorable in her Birthday Girl outfit (complete with crown)! We went over to their house afterward and I got to hold Kevin while he drank a bottle. He’s 9 months old now – holding the bottle on his own! I played with him a little and when he started yawning, I held him close… hoping. Yep, he fell asleep in my arms and I promptly fell asleep on their couch. After telling a friend about this, he asked if I found that to be pure joy or mixed. Honestly? Most of the time, it has been pure joy. I love babies. Period. I’ll admit, though, there have been a few times that it’s been bittersweet. I see the things that Keith would likely be doing and that stings a bit. To my friends reading this who have babies – this does NOT mean you should shield me from them! Don’t miss that one little line – “I love babies. Period.” Babies, in an of themselves, are pure joy. Most of the time.

Thank you, again, to all of you for your love, support, and prayers. They’re all still very much needed. We love y’all and are so glad to have you in our life.

Work in the yard is good. I’m still sore from Saturday’s work.
We found salamanders (or skinks, depending on who you ask).
Once I got over the shock of surprising them, I saw how pretty they are.
Daffodils in the vase are pretty and I look forward to what else we may have one day.
I’ll need to find vases.

Taylor and I dig in the dirt and marvel at the worms and bugs we find.
Yes, I scream at lizard-type things and marvel at worms.
Worms don’t move as quickly as those little boogers did.
Wandering through the lawn & garden section and dreaming is nice.

I’d trade it all in a heartbeat to have him back.

I also had a realization earlier this month. One of my faculty had a meeting scheduled for the 22nd. I kept trying to write it down as November 22nd. I couldn’t figure out for the life of me why I kept trying to put November instead of February. It wasn’t Keith’s death. I went back and looked at the calendar. It was the date of his funeral. This past weekend was 3 months. It feels so much longer ago than that sometimes.

I got to try my hand at silk flower arranging. I learned a valuable lesson too – scissors are not wire cutters. They did alright until the handle pinched the pad of my middle finger and I got a blood blister. The end result was well worth it, though!

I still miss him. There’s still a hole in my chest. I’m thankful for a loving and understanding church family who are more than happy to let us hold their babies when we need one. These last few days, though, feel almost hopeful.

She has a meme – Walk With Him Wednesdays. “Every Wednesday, we Walk with Him, posting a spiritual practice that draws us nearer to His heart.” Lately, it’s been the Practice of Marriage and, because I’m a sap, I decided to post.

This May will mark 12 years that Brian & I have been married. Twelve?? That number shocks me. No, not because it feels So. Much. Longer. Well, maybe sometimes it does (and I feel certain he’d second that… especially since I said it first. He’s a wise man – he’ll only make cracks like that when he knows I’m in a good mood or when I’ve already said it myself.)

We met in the early days of the internet. 1994 (17 years ago!). No Windows. No Internet Explorer. No http web addresses. No dsl connections. I had a 1200 baud modem. It was a BBS (bulletin board system) based out of Holland. He liked my handle – which at the risk of much ridicule, I’ll share: Freak of Nature. Over the summer, I had a co-worker friend who would tell me, “Liz, you’re a freak of nature…” and yes, from him, it was a term of endearment and I liked it. Brian liked it too and sent me a message saying so. We discovered everything we had in common and talked on every BBS we each frequented. One night, we were talking and lost connection. It was the dial-up network on my end, so I went to bed. I’m not sure how much longer it was, I do know it was wee hours of the morning, but my phone rang. It was him. He had gone through all the BBS’s we frequented, looking for one that I might not yet have deleted my contact information from. (When I first got onto these BBS’s, I put in my contact information because it said I should. Once I learned that I really shouldn’t – there weren’t many, but there were some true freaks out there – I deleted the information, but missed one). I was shocked. Then flattered. I don’t know how long we talked, but after getting to know each other online, we decided to meet in person. Over a break, I drove to Huntsville, AL. We met in the Toys R Us parking lot on University Drive and went from there (driving separately) to meet up with some of his friends at the mall. That was the beginning of a 2 year, long distance relationship.

Two years. Long distance. Communication is a MUST. After 17 years, you’d think we’d be really good at it. Not so much, but we’ve gotten better. I’m learning to let him be the head of the household. I’ve learned that letting him be the head of household does not mean I’m inferior to him or less capable than him. I’m the one who keeps the household running. I know what’s in our fridge, freezer, and pantry. I (usually) know Taylor’s schedule, our own schedule. I know what laundry is where and what needs to be done around the house (though getting it done is another story at times!). Anyone who’s honestly read Proverbs 31 knows that the wife is not subservient to the husband. I know, Ephesians 5 says for wives to submit to your husbands, but to submit does not mean that I’m “less than” him, nor does it give him permission to walk on me or treat me like a servant. For the record, Brian’s never treated me like any of those negative things I just said – those are purely examples of the stereotype associated with “submit”. If you read the rest of the passage in Ephesians, beyond wives submit, you’ll see that husbands are to love their wives as Christ loved the church. And I love the last verse: Eph 5:33, So again I say, each man must love his wife as he loves himself, and the wife must respect her husband. (New Living Translation)

It’s a partnership – he’s the CEO of the company, I’m the COO. If we don’t communicate, the company falls. I’ve learned that that means communicating things even though I fear it’ll upset him, even though I could get myself in trouble, even though it may not be what he wants to hear. That’s been a hard lesson for me to learn. I fear rejection. Sometimes my news has upset him, but it wasn’t as bad as I had feared it would be. Sometimes I’ve gotten in trouble, but it wasn’t as bad as I had feared it would be. See the trend? That’s the thing about fear, it makes problems seem bigger than they really are. It can also put a wedge into a marriage because that fear can lead to keeping secrets. “No secrets” can be a scary concept, but I trust him and he trusts me. I love him and he loves me. So, what has happened when I’ve brought him bad news? Yeah, sometimes he fusses (when he does, trust me, it’s usually warranted) but once the initial shock is over, the questions are asked: “Now what?” “What do we need to do to fix it?” “What do we need to do to not be here again?” Communication. Partnership. Knowing our roles and knowing that neither is truly lesser than the other.

I played Bible roulette Wed night (flip and point at random, sometimes meaningful, sometimes not. Read surrounding verses for context!) and landed in Jonah. He’s told to go to Nineveh and tell people to repent. He doesn’t want to so he gets on a boat going the other way, stormy seas, “throw me over”, swallowed by a big fish, prayed, fish spits him out after 3 days, he goes to Nineveh, they repent, the end. NOT the end! Jonah is TICKED that God didn’t destroy those wicked, wicked people. “I KNEW you’d go and have mercy on them! That’s why I ran!” He goes and sits (sulks) outside the city to see if anything’s going to happen. Nada. Destruction STILL doesn’t happen. “WTH, God?!” (yeah, I’m paraphrasing). God made a leafy plant grow – its broad leaves shaded Jonah from the sun and Jonah was grateful for the plant. God also sent a worm that ate the plant – by the next morning, the plant was gone. Jonah got ticked. Again. God asks him, “Is it right for you to be angry because the plant died?” Jonah thinks so. Verse 10-11… Then the Lord said, “You feel sorry about the plant, though you did nothing to put it there. It came quickly and died quickly. But Nineveh has more than 120,000 people living in spiritual darkness, not to mention all the animals. Shouldn’t I feel sorry for such a great city?”

I can SO see myself in Jonah. Yes, I did tend Keith and yes, I did have a part in putting him here, BUT… Is it right for me to be angry? Is there a bigger picture that, perhaps, I’m not seeing?

Sometime in December or January, I had started to read the book of Job and, honestly, I got really confused around chapters 2 or 3. Recently, I read a few commentaries and a synopsis then tried again. This time, I’m humbled.

After losing everything (family, servants, livestock), Job’s response was: “I came naked from my mother’s womb, and I will be naked when I leave. The Lord gave me what I had, and the Lord has taken it away. Praise the name of the Lord!” (Job 1:21 NLT) (Aside: I’ve mentioned this verse before but wasn’t ready to speak the words for myself.) Even when Job is struck with boils, he handles it in stride. His wife tells him to ditch his integrity – curse God and die. He says, “You talk like a foolish woman. Should we accept only good things from the hand of God and never anything bad?” So in all this, Job said nothing wrong.” (Job 2:10 NLT)

It’s after his friends show up that things go downhill. They’re accusing him of sinning, he’s denying any fault and eventually ends up questioning God – claiming the wicked get away with everything while the poor suffer. In chapter 9, he all but calls God a big bully and puppet master, then apparently God’s had enough. In chapters 38-41, He lets him have it. “Who is this that questions my wisdom with such ignorant words? Brace yourself like a man, because I have some questions for you, and you must answer them.” “Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundation?” is just the beginning of a barrage of everything God does that we have absolutely no understanding of whatsoever. At the beginning of chapter 40, Job gets a chance to respond and he wisely says very little. And God continues on for two more chapters. At the end of it all, I can’t help but be as humbled as Job and I echo his response:

“I know that you can do all things; no purpose of yours can be thwarted. You asked, ‘Who is this that obscures my plans without knowledge?’ Surely I spoke of things I did not understand, things too wonderful for me to know. “You said, ‘Listen now, and I will speak; I will question you, and you shall answer me.’ My ears had heard of you but now my eyes have seen you. Therefore I despise myself and repent in dust and ashes.” (Job 42:1-6 NIV, emphasis added)

So. Willing spirit? Yep. I’ve heard of Him but now I’ve seen Him. Contrite heart? Yep. Definitely sufficiently humbled. Does this mean all is well and I can skip away merrily? I wish. Grief is a process. This is one step along the way. Supposedly, it’s a step I may return to (“They” say that can happen with all the stages), but it’s definitely a step in the right direction.