Running To Stand Still
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my Editor

5/31/2015

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From the moment I decided to introduce my family on the blog I knew I would write about him, my Editor (Ed for short).  He is my editor, my partner, my other half, my husband and the one whom my soul loves.  It does not escape me that my relationships with others are what seems to shape and influence my thoughts.  I have no greater or important relationship in my life than the one I share with him. He came to me by way of a mutual friend and a blind date.  He found me heartbroken and very skeptical of “the forever” kind of love being in the cards for me.  We are opposites, but at times so much alike.  I have used so many clichés through the years to describe us; I have said he is the calm and I am the storm.  He sees the glass as half full and I see it as half empty. 

He was my editor long before I ever thought to string words together for a blog post.  Shortly after we got married (in our first year) I noticed he would do this one thing, but I could not figure out why.  Just like all newly married couples, we would sit all hugged up together, even while visiting with family and friends.  I noticed that, often when I would be talking and sharing things about our life together, he would nudge me.  His nudge might be a finger poked in the ribs, a gentle squeeze of the hand or a tap of his foot against mine.  Just a quick, unnoticeable (to others) gesture I would feel and wonder what he was doing.  Soon I realized his prompting would happen while I was telling some great story or when I was just revealing the boring details of our everyday, out-of-town life to our friends and family.  It eventually became clear to me that it was his signal to shut up and stop talking.

Now, for a person like me, who naturally lives out loud, this was confusing, but for him- an introvert of sorts- my stories were an intrusion of his attained privacy. I did what all new brides do…. I told my Mom about it; his attempt to filter me for no reason. And, then, I protested publically at his attempts to keep me quiet. The results were very entertaining for those who were aware of our inner struggle.  Finally, when I told an embarrassing, story-to-end-all-stories one night, his actions became legendary! (I’m sorry, reader, but if I told that story here, he would only edit it out.) 

We were visiting with my parents.  I was sitting, but Ed was standing up across the room away from me.  When, to his horror, he realized which particular story I was telling, he just started saying (quietly at first, but soon much louder) “poke, Poke, POKE!!!!”  But I was not stopping! He was not going to keep me from saying what I wanted to say!  Wise to what was happening, my parents cracked up in laughter.  And, from then on, screaming “POKE!!!” has become our family’s way of trying to censor anything you don’t want told!

Over the years he has given up on filtering the things I share.  And I have tried to be mindful of our personality differences.  I have grown to value his comfort, as well as his opinion and perspective of things.

Just days after we became “Mr. and Mrs.,” I snapped the above photo on an island in the Caribbean Sea.  Obviously, we each left our hotel, equipped with our own camera, to capture how we (as individuals) viewed the world.  Having photographed the same lighthouse, I turned to see him on top of this rock, peering through his own view finder. I raised my own camera and caught this image just as something inside of me made me pause and think, “man, I love him!”  I had just an inkling then to the wonderful, godly person he strives daily to be.  Before him, I had never known anyone who could recall applicable scripture in situations.  Like our children, the way he approaches life amazes me.  I give him a hard time about how- with such ease- he lays his head down at night and is soon fast asleep, waking up every day to a new world.  He very rarely stresses about anything.  His wit is so quick it is hard to beat.  It surprises, and often shocks, those who only know his usually quiet demeanor.

To this day, this photo is framed and on my bathroom vanity.  It is a daily reminder of how I feel about this man who through the years has taught me to view things around me from a different perspective.  Often times, it is a painful process and not always pleasant.  It is something I tend to fight with every ounce within me. 

When I started blogging, I forced him to read every post; checking it for grammatical errors, and because I value his opinion. It has been written that editing is refining; improving the overall quality.  Not sure he cares a great deal about what I write here in this space, but for sure I know he refines me and improves my overall quality as a Mom and as a person.

Yesterday, we celebrated seventeen years of marriage; I at one ball field with the boys, and Ed with 3B 60 miles away at another ball field. Our time apart was spent texting each other with play-by-play updates of the ball games we watched. So typical of how our communication is most of the time these days.  Like any married-with-children couple, our life is less about us and certainly more about our little family.  Without a doubt, I know Ed would not want our life to be about anything else.  To our children he is the best Dad in the world.  And for me, he is undeniably the person God placed on this earth to help me write our story!





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Attention to Details

5/20/2015

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There it was… not the picture I was searching for, but validation of a memory I seem to be recalling often now.   My Mom asleep on folded laundry.  I want to believe my young mind snapped this picture in anticipation of me needing it later in life.  But, in reality, I bet my Daddy found her this way, and thought to click the pic to aggravate her.  She was simply exhausted and asleep on the job. Rare! But an image recorded that is so important for me to remember now.

I stand staring at the photo, studying it really.  Knowing the lady pictured is no more.  She moved on to another season of life, her boys and me grown and gone with children of our own.  But still a momma bird to an empty nest.  Older and wiser, she tells me all the time it will get easier. She says I won’t always feel worn out and constantly behind on housework and laundry.  She adds she knows how tough it is to be pulled in so many directions all at once.  She remembers life that was ruled by schedules and lack of time for it all.  She reminds me what really matters, happy children who know they are loved more than anything.  She assures me there will be time later for all these other areas I feel sure I am failing in right now.

Mother’s Day prompted the search for the perfect “throwback” image. May being May, Mother’s Day has come and gone and time marches on.  True to what she teaches, there is time… later.  The delayed timing of this post gave me the opportunity to pay attention to the details that surrounded my tired Momma all those years ago.

 For sure, that hideous wallpaper screams outdated now, but truth be told, I’m sure it was outdated then.  And what about those Priscilla curtains? She washed, starched, ironed and hung those things til they finally fell apart. Oh! And how about the clean shine of the table top where she rests? That table, Grandmaw’s table.  The layers of paint she chipped away when she decided to refinish it and stain it.  Night after night we gathered around it and waited as she got dinner on the table. My little brother perched on the stool, because she had a surprise number three, too.  When all were finished she would clear the table, wiping it down once again. On the kitchen counter behind her sits the drying dishes and my Daddy’s lunchbox open and ready for his next work day.  There is the little basket of fabric strawberries hung on the wall, a gift to me from an elderly neighbor across the road. My Mom would send me over to visit or she would take the time to visit herself, thoughtfully aware of how lonesome our neighbor might be.

Her farmer’s tanned arms and tanned face and neck laid over on clean towels has convinced me this moment was captured in May, the busiest of months now and probably the busiest of months then.   The long awaited Spring arrives and life explodes, baseball and softball in full swing, the end of another school year quickly drawing near.   There is no time for the extra (and yet so much extra is on the schedule), and life more than ever is just about living through.

Well, my Mom lived through and daily gives me the confidence needed to know I will live through, too.   Mother’s Day was celebrated all over social media with words like “the best”, supportive and selfless.  My Mom is all of these things and so much more. With each passing year I have a deeper respect and love for my Mom. One day in May is surely not enough to celebrate all she does for me and my family.    As I walk my own road of motherhood I have a greater understanding of how willfully she makes her life about others.  And still to the point of exhaustion.

My original idea was to find an imprint of the two of us together. But when I find myself waking up and stumbling from the couch to the bed, it is this vision of my sleeping Momma that gives me comfort; knowing that when it is done right, being a Mom sometimes looks like this. Giving it all you got and putting the needs and wants of others before your own. Is there any greater picture of love than sacrificing for others? So to my Momma, I am grateful for you and the wonderful example you continue to be to me and others.


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    I am a wife and a mom of three wonderful children. Together, our family, has lots to keep us crazy busy in this life.  I run for fitness, as a stress reliever, for time away to think and clear my head. I run to remember and connect with something greater than me.  I am running to stand still.

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