How Do You Still Have Hair?

A few weeks ago during a lunch conversation with my friend she looked at me and started, ”I don’t know how you do it. How do you still have hair on your head?”

She was referencing a recent stunt Amy, my daring, brave and impulsive, adult child attempted. She failed miserably because the concrete doesn’t move.

As I sat explaining the events as they unfolded, and showed her thr video of a life-sized human tucked in a watermelon position, almost fetal position, traveling headfirst into a shallow 2 1/2’ of water and my friend realized end magnitude of possible injury Amy could have suffered was thr point at which she uttered the aforementioned inquisition.

It was not the first or second time I’ve heard that statement. It’s one that has begged he to search deep and discover why I do after four rather rambunctious children have a single hair left on my head. Lord knows there were times I could’ve have pulled mine and theirs out.

As I’ve shared with you, my Mamaw had some mental illness, as a result, she was a worrywart. If there wasn’t anything for her to worry about she had a knack for conjuring up something in the overactive mind of hers. I definitely learned from her what not to do. I simply can’t live in fear of what might or might not happen. It’s far too taxing on the mind and time-consuming.

My Grandma Reese, on the other hand, knew what it takes to raise children without dread, fear or worry. She was left with four boys to raise when Grandpa went to war. She was a staunch disciplinarian. You didn’t sass, talkback, to her. She demanded immediate obedience. She just didn’t take crap off her kids, or anyone else for that matter, even her grandchildren knew to obey.

Furthermore, she had sass. Which I suppose is the reason she didn’t allow it in her children.

While, I picked up my sensitivity, love of laughter, love for books and storytelling from Mamaw. My spunky sass, talkative nature and worry-free attitude definitely came from Grandma. In combination, they seem to work for me.

More importantly, than my generic make-up is the fact that I have a great big God who says this:

I don’t know a lot about fishing but I’ve been a time or two in my day. When you cast a line, you throw it out. Friends this is precisely what God is telling you to do. Throw your cares on me. Leave them there. Don’t reel them back in.

So many things have happened in my lifetime, but one of these took place nine years ago when I said goodbye to my two older boys and sent them off to Basic Training for the US Navy. In less than three months time we went from a family of six to a family of four. The most difficult part of having service members is the lack of communication, especially during deployment. There were a few times both were deployed during the same timeframe. One of the East Coast and in the Atlantic Ocean and the Mediterranean Sea. The other on the West Coastand in the Pacific Ocean and North China Sea. (It just happened to be during the time of unrest with North Korea)

Needless to say, if I had spent my days worrying about all the ”what ifs”, I would never have accomplished anything. Instead, I chose to, every day, throw my worries and concerns on God. In fact, I strive to begin each day by giving God my concerns especially where my children are concerned.

As a Momma, I want them covered and bathed in prayer. The good news is that prayer knows no bounds. It can break through barriers and can reach the depths of the ocean. And on Saturday, July 20th, He kept the concrete from breaking Amy’s neck. She did have a mild concussion and a few scrapes and raccoon eyes for about two weeks.

In conclusion, the only reason I have a single hair left is that I choose to take my cares and concerns to God. Yes, I do sometimes reel them back in and I have to cast them back out; however, I am fully confident that the One who gave these children to me is far more competent to watch over them than I am and why am I going to worry and stress when there is absolutely nothing I can do anyway.

Pardon for the Interruption

Do interruptions cause friction in your body, you just grow tense and every muscle stiffens and you become irritated and angry? Or do you welcome interruptions and see them as opportunities?

Would love to say the latter is how I typically handle interruptions but if I’m being honest, I genuinely disdain interruptions. I get so hyper-focused on what I’m doing and want to get ’er done.

As I’ve grown up, I have learned to become more flexible. Let’s face it when you raise four kids and have a husband whose middle name is ”spontaneity”, you have to learn not to get too irritated or behave irrationally by some minor ”We interrupt this show to bring you an important….”

What if that break in the action is actually important? What if that crying baby is awakened by fever and needs attention? What if your spouse just needs you to talk to them? What if that child needs advice and they’re coming to you and not running to other sources? What if that friend has had a rotten, horrible day and just needs to vent? Or what if the greatest decision your child could ever make, rests solely on your willingness to excuse the interruption and make the best of it?

I have always, not always, but more than 3/4 of my life, an early riser. I like to get up early. My mind is most clear and I always like to spend time praying and reading my Bible before the pitter-patter of little feet let me know the zoo was up and showtime was beginning. There was only one problem, Alex. He was always an early riser. I couldn’t complain much because he would go to bed early. I learned to navigate by getting up slightly earlier than him. Most days it worked out fine. I would be finishing up and he would come to sit on my lap for morning snuggles.

One morning he arose particularly early, I had barely poured a cup of coffee before he comes and hops in my lap. I thought he was drifting off to sleep. I reached down to grab my Bible and he said, “Mom, I want to ask Jesus into my heart.”

My heart skipped a beat as I asked, “Do you want to do it now?”

“Yes.” He answered

And so right there in the solace of the early daylight hours, Alex asked Jesus into his heart. The most important interruption of my life.

The next time something threatens to interrupt your already scheduled program, remember, it’s quite possibly a divine intervention.

The Best Thirty-Six Hours

Our day began by taking Amy to Southern Manners for breakfast. Terry can’t handle the pressure and decides to order a large, fresh cinnamon roll.

After breakfast, we came home and packed our bags. Helped Amy get her car.loaded and took off in different directions. Amy heading back to school for her final hooray. Terry and I headed to Charlotte.

About four months or so ago Terry announced, ”America is playing in Charlotte and we are going. I’ve already bought tickets. Spared no expense and got us great seats.”

After checking in to the Hilton Garden Inn, we ventured out for a little snack. About two blocks up from the hotel we.saw.this French bakery and cafe, Amelias.

It certainly did not disappoint in ambiance and flavor. Food was excellent and reasonably priced for the quality.

After a little rest, we trekked back to Epicenter to check out Blackfinn. Our waitress, Jessie, took our drink order. While waiting, the manager, who we saw upon arrival came by our table. Terry started talking to him about his hat. And he asked,

”So, do I have to grow a beard like yours to wear a hat like that.”

He laughed and said, ”Yes but you want to try it on?”

Next thing I knew Terry had the hat on his head and Zach is introducing himself to us.

We decided on a couple of appetizers, fried deviled eggs and shrimp and crab dip. Both get a thumbs up. Tasty and delicious.

Jessie suggested we ride the Lynx to NoDa and go to Haberdish. Then take a Lyft from there to the concert.

I am a huge fan of public transportation in big cities. It’s the best and most efficient way to travel, in my humble opinion.

When we arrived at Haberdish, we looked over the menu but weren’t able to commit to any food, except another appetizer. This time we chose, Biscuits and Bacon Jelly.

Again, we were not disappointed in the least. Well, maybe a little disappointed that we couldn’t find room for their food. The atmosphere proved to be stellar as well and rest assured, we will make a return visit there.

Our Lyft delivered us safely to the Ovens Auditorium. We had about thirty minutes before the opening act. Terry went off to the bathroom and I sat down beside this couple.

As you know, I’m not usually lacking for words so I struck up a conversation with them. By the time Terry returned and we all were conversing we learned that he was Dale Earnhardts personal barber, Steve Ellsworth (look him up)!

Finally, it was showtime!

The opening act, Michael Tracy, out of Charlotte! To be honest, he is definitely worth a listen. I was uncertain at first but after his thirty-minute opening act, I was sold.

Then after a.thirty minute intermission,

America brought the house down. Their opening song, ”Tin Man.” Can I just interject, from start to finish, they entertained and rocked the crowd? By all appearances, it was a sold-out performance. To he honest, we had such good seats,

I couldn’t see the whole balcony.

When Terry said the seats were primo; he was being truthful. We were literally five rows from the stage and our seats were in the center!

After playing for a solid hour and a half the concert ended with ”A Horse With No Name” Absolutely the best song to end on.

Our Lyft driver came promptly and transported us back to our hotel.

This morning we decided to venture out to the Epicenter for breakfast. We chose the Red Eye Diner. A classic breakfast. Good and reasonably priced,

We left the hotel and ventured.to the Billy Graham Library

A place I’ve itched to go for years!

Again, it did not disappoint. Truthfully, it was the cream of the crop.

From the time we entered until the time of our departure, there was a quiet calming peace, indescribable.

If I gleaned nothing else, the simplicity of. the message Billy Graham always preached spoke to the heart of millions. He never took away from or added to the Gospel.message. Jesus, born of a Virgin, came.to save! We are all sinners. Today is the day of your salvation. You are not promised tomorrow. Today is the day of salvation. What a magnificent proclamation of the Gospel!

If I could sum up those thirty-six hours of our lives, I would say ”Amazing and some of the best of our married lives.”

A perfect city view from our hotel window

A Little Ray of Sunshine

One of my most memorable times of her laughing so hard she had all of us about in tears and not just the eye tears but the leg tears as well.

We lived on a cul-de-sac and would often go walking in the evenings. Our dog, Duchess, the smelly but rather cute Basset Hound, would often follow us. She didn’t need a leash because when she would tire, she’d simply walk lazily back home and wait for us.

Anyway, this particular day, as we were completing our stroll, Duchess somehow managed to get behind Mawmaw and knock her flat on her rump.

Mom and I immediately checked to see if she was okay. She said she was and one of us, I can’t recall who, stuck out a hand to help her get up.

Apparently, the outstretched hand was funny to her because she started cackling. Every time one of us tried to help her, she laughed harder and harder. She laughed so hard, she became inaudible. The more she laughed the more we laughed.

I couldn’t tell you how long we stood out around the cul-de-sac laughing but finally Ned or Popaw one came out and had to lift her from behind to get her up because she couldn’t stop laughing long enough to be pulled up.

Of all the special gifts she had, and there were many more, her.laugher was truly one of her best gifts. Her uncanny ability to just make you feel special because her laughter made you feel good about being you.

She was always a little ray of sunshine on a cloudy day.

Thank you, Mawmaw for teaching me about the gift of laughter!

Oh, Well

I’m not precisely certain when Popaw began using the phrase, ”Oh, well” but it was definitely within the last few years of his life. Fortunately, Popaw retained his mental faculties, with the exception of being able to recall what he had eaten. When asked he would often respond, ”I can’t recall but I know it was good because I cleaned my plate.”

But this phrase, ”Oh, well” had multiple meanings for him. He used it when he couldn’t conjure up a response. He often used it when he would hear something he didn’t necessarily like hearing. But most often used to mean, ” It’s okay. I am satisfied.” In other words, Popaw simply took the cards he was dealt and played them out. He knew where he was going and was content until the end.

Of all the times I heard him use the phrase, these two times will stand out above the rest.

That was a hard day for me and my Mom. The call came around 9:30 am and by the time I got to The Bridge, they had him sitting in his lift chair. At first game, he looked calm. He recognized me but his speech was muffled and difficult to understand. After a few short minutes, he began fidgeting in the chair and aggressively attempting to get up. But there was a problem, he couldn’t walk. The stroke had affected his ability to walk and he couldn’t comprehend.

It took hours of sitting by his chair with my arm held up to gently nudge him back down. Over and over again, Mom and I would tell him, ”You’ve had a stroke. You can’t get up. Your legs don’t work anymore.”

Finally, the meds arrived, and once they got into his system, he was able to calm down. Once calm, his speech was clearing and his mind was less foggy. His irrational behavior had subsided. Although there were times he would want to get up and go to the bathroom. Again I would firmly explain that he had a stroke and couldn’t walk. Finally, we reached a conjuncture with him and he understood precisely what I was saying. He looked at me with a smile so soft and tender, I could’ve cried, and said, ”Oh, well.”

The following morning I stopped in briefly to check on him. Mom had gone home after a night of restless sleeping there with him. A sitter was with him until 2:00. As soon as I walked in the door, a smile spread across his face from ear to ear and he lit up at the sight of me. He beamed. ”Hey Sweetheart, it’s so good to see you.”

I leaned over, kissed him on the cheek and said, ” It’s so good to lay eyes on you this morning.”

We chatted for a few minutes then I kissed him goodbye, assuring him I would see him later in the day. Little did I know that would be our final conversation.

The sitter, as I was leaving, said, ”You must be someone really special because I’ve never seen anyone’s eyes light up the way his just did for you.”

”Not really, I’m just his granddaughter. He’s that way with all of his family. ”

Upon my return, things had gotten progressively worse and they were having to medicate him more often. I knew deep in my heart where things were heading.

The next morning there was a horrible rain and wind storm. Terry and I had to wait until 11:00 am before we could leave for Hendersonville. Popaw wasn’t any better and I knew something had to be done. (It’s a story for another time)

Finally, by 5:15, I received a call from Hospice informing me they would be coming to pick Popaw up by 6:00 and transport him to the Elizabeth House. I was alone with him when the news came to me and he was restless.

I put my hand over his heart and said, ”Popaw, the ambulance is coming to get you soon and they will be taking you to the Elizabeth House. We are taking you there so you can be made comfortable.”

He turned his eyes toward mine and said, ”Oh, well.”

I wanted to laugh and cry all at once. I knew what that ”Oh, well” meant. It is well with my soul.

”Popaw, I love you.”

”I love you back.”

Those would be the last words he would say to me!

Popaw, thank you for teaching me that life isn’t about the things, it’s about being content in all circumstances knowing that God is in complete control.

When I Prayed for Patience God Gave Me Alex

I distinctly remember one of Mom’s friends who always said, ”Be careful what you pray for because God will answer. I prayed for patience and God gave me twins.”

Since I’ve already established the fact that I am one of those, it should come as no surprise that in my mid-twenties I began praying for patience. It truly was the one thing I felt I got the short end of the stick on. So, I began praying for patience a few months before Terry and I got married.

When we had been married about six months, Terry looked at me and said, ”Let me tell you something, if you and I are going to have kids together we need to do it soon. I am not going to be a sixty-year-old man raising a teenager.”

So, that settled that and within a few months, I was pregnant.

Overall, the pregnancy was easy. We had a slight hiccup when I was around thirty weeks and they discovered I had placenta previa. It’s actually how we found out that Alex was a boy because they had to do several ultrasounds to make sure the placenta moved up; otherwise, a c-section would be needed. Fortunately, it moved and Alex came the natural way.

He was an easy baby. He wasn’t fussy. Slept through the night before he was two months old. He was quite the rambunctious toddler and required a lot of adult supervision because he was like a little Houdini, and could wrangle his way out of any contraption including his ultra-expensive car seat.

But then, after Amy was born, he turned into a ball of fury. At times, he was uncontrollable and unmanageable and the problem was you never knew when he would fit into these fits of rage. We tried the normal punishment like timeouts and spanking. They were not useful or productive. Most of the time, it only made him angrier. In fact, there were times, I literally had to sit down on the floor and hold his hands and feet until he calmed down.

This was not easy for any of us and especially not me. I was also going through a terribly rough time because my endometriosis had kicked into high gear. Physically and emotionally I was spent.

I had a friend who encouraged me to get on Zoloft. I did heed her advice and that helped me. It didn’t help my child.

Finally, I convinced Terry and the Pediatrician that he needed to be assessed. I had been reading about bipolar and was certain that was our culprit. Through the same friend who suggested Zoloft for me, she also gave me a recommendation for a renowned child psychologist at Duke.

We got our appointment set. Beforehand, they asked me to write everything I could recall about the four years of his life including my pregnancy and his birth. By the time I was finished, it wrote like a novel. (Maybe I should have kept a copy)

Prior to seeing the doctor, I had picked up a book called Parenting with Love and Logic by Foster Cline, MD, and Jim Fay. Terry and I had already started implementing some of their ideas and they were working. It also was helping with the other three children as well.

After our four hours long appointment, the doctor concluded that Alex had high- level anxiety and slight ADD, which he said required no medication. He told us that consistent discipline would achieve the best results for him. (He had literally observed us with Alex for two hours before coming in to meet with us) I told him about the book. He said it was one that was on his recommendation list.

He surmised that the anxiety was an onset of my almost tragic birth of Amy because that’s when the noticeable change happened. Due to the fact, I almost lost my life, when Terry brought him to see me I was lying in a bed with a very swollen face from all of the fluids. Then when Amy and I came home, I couldn’t pick him up for three weeks. People were in and out helping me but the most I could do for him was allow him to crawl into my lap. He was only sixteen months old and could not verbalize so it came out as anger.

Once we began fully implementing the idea found in the book, our lives changed substantially. I learned patience in a way I never thought I would and there was a complete sense of freedom in teaching my children to make choices. The main premise of the book is to teach children in order for them to become independent. That is the ultimate goal.

Now, I wish I could tell you that I am always patient but that is not the case. I still ride that struggle bus. What I can tell you is that when I prayed for patience and God gave me Alex one of my life’s most precious gifts.

In Spite of Who I Am…..He Loves Me

Now that you’re aware of my rebellious nature. I want to share a little story with you. One I don’t think I’ve ever shared.

One day in the early part of my high school years, I came home one afternoon from school. Completely drained and out of focus to complete any homework assignment, I sat down on my piano bench and started to play.

The piano was my therapy.

I’m not sure why but no one was home this particular day. As I began to play and unwind, I noticed behind my book was a white sheet of paper with words written on it in Ned’s horrific handwriting. Curious, I began to read.

As I read tears welled up in my eyes, as the words spilled off the page and into my heart I began thinking, ”Wow! God loves me in spite of who I am or what I’ve done.” I would love to tell you that revelation changed my behavior, at that point in time, it didn’t. That would come years later. You see, I had a lot of head knowledge about God but I had built up far too many walls to allow him to penetrate my heart. It would take years to breakthrough.

However, as time marched on and my heart became more pliable and moldable and I let go of the things that were holding me in captivity, I’ve always remembered the words of this song and I remember that day so vividly. And you know what, He has never let go of my hand. Many times, I’ve let go of His but His love for me knows no bounds and I am so thankful.

Listen here I’ll never let go of your hand

Best $5.00 I’ve Spent

Two weeks ago was the Tryon Youth Theater’s, running of Matilda. A few weeks prior to the event I asked Terry if he would go with me. He first wanted to know if the place had air conditioning and then agreed to go. The only stipulation was, ”I’m not spending a perfectly good date night to go.” Leaving me with only Sunday matinee as an option.

The truth is, he’s not truly fond of musicals. He will grin and bear it but it’s not really his thing.

I hemmed and hawed and put off purchasing tickets until about a week before the show. By the time I got around to purchasing the tickets most of the Sunday was sold out and there were no two seats together.

Considering he really didn’t want to go anyway, I told him I would just go on Friday night by myself. I’m pretty sure he did a happy dance in his mind.

So, I bought myself a $5.00 ticket and took myself to see the show.

As I walked to the entrance of the Tryon Fine Arts Center, memories began flooding my mind. As I walked past the stairwell, pictured below, I remembered how often during rehearsals some of the cast would venture out to talk and hang out when we weren’t working our scenes. Sometimes idle chatter and other times trying to mend a broken heart.

As I neared the front of the building a wave of excitement rushed over me as I was back on familiar ground. I remembered that same feeling of sheer exuberance before the start of each night. I could hardly wait.

Also, I discovered I had a few friends with children who were participating in the show and was eager to see them. Not to mention, my favorite piano teacher was leading and directing the music.

I sat down, looked over the program reminiscing about days gone by. Remembering how much fun it was to be part of the summer plays. Not only did it give me something to occupy my time with, it also kept me from having to go on vacation with my parents and younger siblings. I would stay with my grandparents in Brevard and drive back and forth for play practice. It afforded me time with friends and also to make new friends. Truly a remarkable experience to be play a part.

Now, back to the show….

From start to finish the show was magical. The cast was so well picked, each actor fit their part perfectly. The energy and sense of togetherness were clearly on display from beginning to end. It was truly a delightful experience.

As the curtain drew on the final scene, a tear fell from my eye. I wasn’t sad it was over, I was happy I decided to go.

The Most Horrible News Ever….but Not Really

I sat in utter disbelief. I couldn’t believe my ears. ”We’ve decided that you, Kristi and David will no longer be attending school in Polk County. Beginning in the fall, you will be going to Tryon. We just feel like this is the right move for your education.”

As the words tumbled from their mouths, anger boiled inside. How could they do this to me?

I’m not sure when they made the decision but they decided to wait until we were on vacation to inform us. Talk about a vacation spoiler. Good thing they waited until near the week’s end to spill the beans. I knew better than to argue because their minds were clearly made up.

I fumed.

Finally, I got up and walked out. I walked toward the beach. Tears burned my face. I muttered every curse word in the book and then some. ”Didn’t they realize I already had my Freshman year of high school mapped out? I didn’t need or want a change.”

I found a payphone and called one of my friends. She, too, was unhappy about the decision my parents had made. I’m pretty sure during the course of my conversation with her I called my parents every horrible name my angry brain could muster. Talking to her did calm me down.

Now, here I sit thirty-six years later and I realize that my parents knew what they were doing. It was not a decision they made lightly but it was the best decision for us.

Winston Churchill says, ”There is nothing wrong with change if it is in the right direction.”

Change is hard. It often causes fear and anxiety because of the unknowns. It also pushes us out of our comfort zones into the world of the unfamiliar. It causes the direction to change

What I’ve learned over the years through this experience is that sometimes the direction of our lives must change because in order for us to learn and grow.