“The broken heart.
You think you will die, but you just keep living,
day after day after terrible day.”
Charles Dickens, Great Expectations
9.19.2013
8.11.2013
The Time Has Come...
We will leave in a few hours - 6.5 to be exact - to head to Charleston to move her into her college dorm. I'm trying really hard not to be overly emotional. I know I'll be emotional and that's ok - I just don't want to be overly emotional because, well, that's not good for her and it just gives those who have been giving me a hard time some sort of "I told you so" moment. Books are ordered, almost every stitch of clothing she owns is packed, she has a new hair straightener, toiletries, comfortable bedding complete with a monogrammed pillow sham, and her Joshie Bear sitting on top of it all, the only one allowed to go with her on this journey.
7.16.2013
New Baby
Hard to believe he's four months old and even harder to believe he's been with us ten weeks! He makes me laugh on a daily basis. I really didn't want a new pup but sitting here one Friday night I had a flash forward of Reb gone and in college and me all alone. We had friends who recently had puppies, six of them, and they were trying to give them away. After I said to Reb that I wondered if Ms. Barker had any puppies left I sort of hoped she wouldn't. He was the last one and someone had expressed interest in him but the five pictures she'd tried to send wouldn't and so he was still unclaimed. Dumb me... so now he's here... a fixture in my home. He's scary smart though - he can sit, go down, give you paw and even do a barrel roll. He was a breeze to house train and now sleep on the bed with me (Reb started that one). On the 5th he weighed 26 lbs. He's hit another growth spurt so there is no telling how much he weighs. I'd guess he's pushing 30 if not more. He's just recently figured out how to climb on the couch and chair. The vet thinks he's gonna be a biiiiig boy! He's a sweetie :-)
Our Opie...
Our Opie...
6.01.2013
4.22.2013
4.21.2013
4.04.2013
3.31.2013
Love Story
Rebecca and I missed the first four weeks of watching the Bible, the series on the History Channel. Lots of people in our community have been watching it, following it pretty closely and I'm not really sure what kept us from starting at the beginning. We caught up pretty quickly though, thanks to On Demand and the marathon that ran this weekend. The last episode is starting in a moment and we're both anxious to see the finale, if you can really it call it that.
Yeah, yeah, she and I both know how it ends. That's not the point though, now is it? Or maybe that is the point? This story, this gift, given to me - to all of us - never fails to capture me. The events leading up to the Crucifixion were intricate and detailed - nothing that happened lacked any type of significance at all. Every word spoken, every interaction, every movement had a meaning and a purpose. As I grow older the more I understand that and the more it affects me.
The older I get the more I understand the sacrifice of Christ. It hits me emotionally as well as physically and at times it's almost too much to witness whether visually, spoken, or in the written word. I remind myself though that this sacrifice was for me and I don't turn away. I stay transfixed and let the feelings and emotions wash over me, sink into me. There is so much... such a mix of pain and grief that gives way to an overwhelming feeling of shame - shame because my sins, all our sins, required Christ's torture and death. I get chill bumps and find myself holding my breath. Then, I cry.
That's not the end though, as we all know...
Easter - the celebration of the Resurrection - washes all that pain and grief and shame away. All that gets replaced with gratitude, and hope, and love - this incredible, extraordinary, glorious, wondrous love.
In our church sanctuary we have a banner that hangs to the left of the congregation and the right of the pulpit. It's comprised of three large letters, sewn together and hung from a rod. The cloth is a deep red and the letters are trimmed in a gold braided rope. A lady in the congregation made it many years ago and it's hung in the sanctuary ever since. On the day Lent begins, however, the banner gets taken down and remains hidden and out of sight until Easter morning. When I entered the sanctuary this morning, like every Easter morning, my eyes immediately fix upon the banner - the JOY banner. What a beautiful expression of the gift of Jesus! Is there a greater story of love?
Yeah, yeah, she and I both know how it ends. That's not the point though, now is it? Or maybe that is the point? This story, this gift, given to me - to all of us - never fails to capture me. The events leading up to the Crucifixion were intricate and detailed - nothing that happened lacked any type of significance at all. Every word spoken, every interaction, every movement had a meaning and a purpose. As I grow older the more I understand that and the more it affects me.
The older I get the more I understand the sacrifice of Christ. It hits me emotionally as well as physically and at times it's almost too much to witness whether visually, spoken, or in the written word. I remind myself though that this sacrifice was for me and I don't turn away. I stay transfixed and let the feelings and emotions wash over me, sink into me. There is so much... such a mix of pain and grief that gives way to an overwhelming feeling of shame - shame because my sins, all our sins, required Christ's torture and death. I get chill bumps and find myself holding my breath. Then, I cry.
That's not the end though, as we all know...
Easter - the celebration of the Resurrection - washes all that pain and grief and shame away. All that gets replaced with gratitude, and hope, and love - this incredible, extraordinary, glorious, wondrous love.
In our church sanctuary we have a banner that hangs to the left of the congregation and the right of the pulpit. It's comprised of three large letters, sewn together and hung from a rod. The cloth is a deep red and the letters are trimmed in a gold braided rope. A lady in the congregation made it many years ago and it's hung in the sanctuary ever since. On the day Lent begins, however, the banner gets taken down and remains hidden and out of sight until Easter morning. When I entered the sanctuary this morning, like every Easter morning, my eyes immediately fix upon the banner - the JOY banner. What a beautiful expression of the gift of Jesus! Is there a greater story of love?
3.09.2013
More Bittersweet
Today was our second to the last dance competition... we have a two week break until the last one. I can remember going to our first one, not knowing the ropes, unaware of all it really involved, and now, eh, it's a walk in the proverbial park lol! The most challenging thing has been the makeup and hair changes this year. When Reb and her partner dance the first dance it's full on hair/makeup and elaborate costuming... see...
But then the next dance, the one I posted below, involves stripping off the makeup and lashes and undoing the hair. We have to make her look pale and death-like and wrap her head in a scarf. The dance is all about two sisters and how one is ok with what's happening to her because she knows it's her time and the other's reluctance to let go. I've only really seen them perform it three times: the dress rehearsal I filmed (which is rough in comparison to the performances) and two competitions. I must say I've cried at both competitions. The auditorium becomes so still and quiet while the dance unfolds - it blows me away.
The third dance is a group dance with the Juniors and it's back to full makeup and pretty hair. The changes happen quickly and it's rush, rush, rush but I'm savoring every moment of it... the last competition is going to be hard.
She's worked so hard over the last ten years. She started dance for the first time at eight. Believe it or not, eight is old to be starting, but there really was no local studio until the prior year. I realized years ago we were led there by the hand of God because the studio has been so much more for us both than just a place for her to learn the art of dance. The studio owner has been a wonderful friend and mentor. She's always had great people working with her and that studio has been a place for Reb to go where she can express herself and feel good about who she is - a mom can't ask for more than that really. I can remember an incident few weeks after she started there, the studio owner (her ballet teacher) and her tap and jazz teacher, stopping me after class and asking me where she'd taken dance before coming there. I said nowhere - and they looked at each other curiously - they told me they thought she'd been taking since she was itty bitty because she was so good and such a natural. But hey, from the time she could talk Reb would say, "I want to dance on my toes!" I guess the love and desire were always there inside her.... inborn I suppose.
Today's competition was a huge success - both duet pieces earned elite platinum awards and first (for Gone) and second (for What's a Girl) overall high scores. It's so incredible to see her acheive such success - she's grown so much and has become such a beautiful person - inside and out... I can't help but be proud :-)
The third dance is a group dance with the Juniors and it's back to full makeup and pretty hair. The changes happen quickly and it's rush, rush, rush but I'm savoring every moment of it... the last competition is going to be hard.
She's worked so hard over the last ten years. She started dance for the first time at eight. Believe it or not, eight is old to be starting, but there really was no local studio until the prior year. I realized years ago we were led there by the hand of God because the studio has been so much more for us both than just a place for her to learn the art of dance. The studio owner has been a wonderful friend and mentor. She's always had great people working with her and that studio has been a place for Reb to go where she can express herself and feel good about who she is - a mom can't ask for more than that really. I can remember an incident few weeks after she started there, the studio owner (her ballet teacher) and her tap and jazz teacher, stopping me after class and asking me where she'd taken dance before coming there. I said nowhere - and they looked at each other curiously - they told me they thought she'd been taking since she was itty bitty because she was so good and such a natural. But hey, from the time she could talk Reb would say, "I want to dance on my toes!" I guess the love and desire were always there inside her.... inborn I suppose.
Today's competition was a huge success - both duet pieces earned elite platinum awards and first (for Gone) and second (for What's a Girl) overall high scores. It's so incredible to see her acheive such success - she's grown so much and has become such a beautiful person - inside and out... I can't help but be proud :-)
3.01.2013
2.25.2013
1.24.2013
The Circle of Life
Reb and I took our annual trek to Myrtle Beach for the dance convention last weekend. I suppose after this year it's no longer an annual thing - it's no longer a thing at all. I was fine for the majority of the weekend (well fine after I got over the fact a rock hit my windshield causing a chip) but just as the very last class on Sunday was ending it all hit me and I got ever so slightly misty eyed. This was it... and the countdown has begun. While it makes me sad it also is exciting and I stand back at times and just marvel at it all. The world exists, laid out before her, waiting for her to decide which direction she's going to take. I see a wonderment in her eyes that's mixed with a confidence she's unaware of right now. I'm so proud of her and envious, in a way. So many choices and experiences wait for her - she's amazing and beautiful and all that's good and right. My heart swells and tears well - I'm sure going to miss all this... but it's that whole "circle of life" thing... it's what's supposed to be happening. It's a beginning, for us both, not an ending - a fact I have to keep reminding myself. I'll let ya' know how that works out.
And so... a first for the ball... she is her mother's daughter.
And so... a first for the ball... she is her mother's daughter.
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