Life: Baby Girl #3

Close your eyes and imagine the scene.  It is midday in Georgia on a warm October afternoon.  The sun is shining, the birds are chirping and the squirrels are making that weird noise they make that sounds like someone popping their cheek with their finger.  Ok, come back to my story now.  Picture Wellstar Cobb Hospital Women's Center.  That's where it all began.  Well, not actually, but you don't want me to go into the whole birds and bees, passion and love making thing, so let's just say this is where it began.

RJ and I checked in at the admissions counter and headed to our "birthing suite" to relax.  Shortly after checking in, the nurse administered the drugs to begin the wonderful labor pains that all mommies live for.  The contractions started strong and came quick.  Around 3 p.m., RJ realized he needed a mower shipped to us from our supplier, so I made the phone call to them to get it taken care of.  Yes, I had to pause several times for contractions and the supplier was mortified.  One hour and eight minutes later, at 4:08 for the mathematically challenged, I pushed all of four times and this little human being was introduced into our cruel, cold, bright, noisy world.

At 4:08 p.m. on October 8th, 1996, God gave us our own little "Beanie" baby.  At 4:09 p.m., I realized something was wrong.  She didn't look right, she didn't sound right, she wasn't being handed to me.  She was whisked away and everyone in the room tried to act as if everything was normal.  Anyone who knows me can tell you that I don't like to be pushed around and I will cuss you for doing so.  Well, at 4:10 p.m., the doctors and nurses in my "suite" were getting a cussing! 

Let's back up a little bit...are your eyes still closed?  You'll need to open them for this...  Two years prior to this day, I gave birth to our second daughter.  She lived 17 hours and died of a heart abnormality.  It was a terrible time in our lives, but we survived it.  So, here we were, having baby girl number 3 and the staff was mistakenly keeping information from me.  Calm down, it was not as bad as it seemed though it felt that way having experienced the catastrophic loss of baby girl #2.

Ok, back to the story.  Beanie was blue.  Yes, blue...like a smurf...I hadn't slept with a smurf, so this seemed to me to be a problem.  The doctor and nurse were beating her on the back with this strange apparatus and I thought they were going to beat her to death.  It was a good thing I was stuck with my feet in the stirrups or I might have decked one of them.  After the cussing fit, one of the nurses calmly explained that Beanie was not breathing because she hadn't acclimated well to the change from breathing fluid to breathing air.  She can be a little slow at times and this was no exception. 

We had a happy ending to the ordeal though.  Beanie started breathing, her color became normal proving that I indeed had not slept with a smurf and everything was right in the world again.  They brought her over to us and we held on to her like we were holding on for dear life...

Flash forward 14 years.  Yes, today our baby girl #3 turns 14...at 4:08 p.m.  Like we did that day 14 years ago, we are holding on for dear life.  It seems we have spent the last 14 years holding our breath...figuratively...I don't think either of us has turned blue at any point...red, yes...blue, don't think so.

Beanie made quite a dramatic entry into this world.  Everything she does is dramatic!  Those first cries sounded like an opera to us and she is still singing today.  She sings so much, one day I think her head is going to pop off!  (for the slow ones, I mean she sings her head off.)  She is my lovey-dovey.  She is generous, caring, hilarious, silly, smart and I just love to hear her laugh.  She loves Drama Club, Soccer, everything to do with diva fashion and can sing circles around the rest of the family.  As you can tell, I am so proud of #3.  It was a rocky start and has been quite a road to where we are today.  There have been a lot of prayers, tears, discipline, fights with #1 and sometimes I thought she'd take me right over the edge of insanity.

Today, as I contemplate her life, both where she's been and where's she going, I can only say that I am filled with such joy and love.  I can exhale, relax and know that God did good and it is all going to be all right with her.  My husband and kids are my whole world and what a beautiful, bright, fun world it is.  Today, we celebrate with #3, our Beanie Baby as she turns 14.  The future is so bright for our family and I am so thrilled.

Beanie Baby, Baby Girl #3...I love you with all of me.  You are wonderfully made.  Thank you for your strong faith in God, family and your country.  You make me so proud.  Now, go...go do something spectacular with your life and enjoy every single breath.

By the way, the hospital staff forgave me for the tongue lashing, the distributor shipped the mower which got to us the next day and two days later when we returned to our humble abode, all was right with the world.  Today, all is still right with the world because God is in control.

Love ya, mean it!

The Joy in Funerals II

Well, if you're reading this one, I supposed you enjoyed part I.  If you didn't enjoy it and you're reading this one, you're just sick! :-)  I have a lot to say, so let's jump right into it...

Two Uncles:

Recently, I have lost 2 iconic uncles.  Both lived long, productive lives and touched many.  Both will be missed and Heaven is a better place because they are there.

Vester Dean (Uncle Vet):

Uncle Vet served his country for many years in the military.  He was highly intelligent and could fix anything.  After his funeral, his family shared many stories of his life that I hadn't heard before.  I had one of my own to share.  When my cousin, Angie, got married, I stood in for her at the rehearsal.  I guess we were 19 or so.  At the rehearsal dinner, I spoke to Uncle Vet and reminded him who I am.  He said "I was wondering who that girl with the short skirt on was!"  I was embarrassed at the time, but now it makes me laugh.  He also had a thing for shoes.  Apparently, he never met a pair he didn't buy.  Aunt Margaret said she could start a shoe store with all of the shoes in his closet.  We laughed a lot that day and visited with family we rarely see.  Uncle Vet was big on family and I know he would enjoy knowing that he brought us all together.

C.A. Frey (Uncle Audrey):

I was so sad when Uncle Audrey died.  He is the first of my Mom's siblings to pass and he was such a leader in our family.  Anyone who knew him knows what a special, loving, honest, strong man he was.  Boy did he love his Dawgs!  When I was younger, C.A. was the meanest man on the face of the earth, so his salvation story is the best I have ever heard.  When he accepted Christ, he was a changed man.  People who met him later in his life would have never believed that he used to scare the heck out of us kids.  His funeral was a Reunion of sorts as numerous family members as well as friends attended.  I will cherish that day forever.  C.A. was and is one of my favorite people ever.  He has a special place in my heart always.

There have been so many other funerals I have attended for loved ones that I still miss today.  I love the funny memories the most.  "Paw Paw" Ben was a funny, caring family friend who adopted us as his own.  He was so clumsy and working in the garden with him and my parents was like entering a war zone.  Every time "Big Foot" stepped on a plant, Mom and Dad had a fit.  My heart aches to visit with him.

Numerous Uncles, Aunts, Family Friends, etc... have passed.  Every one of their funerals has touched me in a special way.  One funeral in particular stands out to me above all others.  I use the term "funeral" loosely here.  This one was more of a "Celebration of Life".

Norman D. Astin (Doug):

On January 20, 2008, we found my Dad at his home in a state of confusion.  He had suffered a stroke.  On February 20, 2008, he suffered another stroke, this one catastrophic.  He was in the hospital for quite some time and then moved to a nursing home for rehabilitation.  He could not move the right side of his body, so he couldn't sit, walk, eat on his own, talk or do anything that he was used to in his active life.  He had a feeding tube and wore a diaper.  He was a shell of the man he had once been.  His only form of communication was "woo wa woo woo wa woo!"  Sometime he cracked us up with that, other times, all of us would get frustrated and angry.  After a while, we began to understand that he was telling us he wanted to go home to die.  Through a series of yes and no questions, I was able to understand exactly what his wishes for his funeral were.  He began to refuse his food and meds, which induced a series of mini strokes.  We moved him to my brother's farm where three days later he died from a massive stroke.  The next day, we began implementing his plan for the "Celebration" of his life. 

We decorated the walls in Mike's living room with pictures, military medals and memorabilia.  We ordered t-shirts for each of our family members and bought overalls.  On Friday night, my immediate family gathered at the farm and had a party to rival all parties.  We laughed, sang, told lies, spit, cussed and shed a few tears.  We partied until the wee hours of the morning, celebrating my Dad and our family.  Saturday morning, we gathered in our overalls and Elmer Fudd t-shirts and starter receiving guests.  If anyone came expecting a traditional funeral, they got a huge surprise.  There was music, food, drinks, stories and a lot of laughter.  We had two ministers speak and everyone milled through the living room looking through the memorabilia.  We had separated Dad's ashes into eight shotgun shell boxes:  one for each child and one for Mom.  We took his ashes to his favorite hunting spot and took turns spreading them around the area.  We gave him a shotgun salute and hung each of the shell boxes in the trees.  It rained while we were there, which seemed fitting to us.  We cried like babies while we were there.  We then took a drive out to his house for one final visit.  My family bonded that day in a way we never had.  Dad would be very happy with us for the relationships we have developed through his loss.  At the end of the day, we were all pleased with Dad's memorial and I don't think we could have done one single thing to have made it better.

So, yes, some of my best memories and some of the best time I've had with family revolve around the love have shared over tragedy and loss.  The Bible tells us to celebrate and rejoice the life of those who leave us to return to Him.  I think God smile on my family the day we celebrated my Dad.

Having recently shared the idea for this blog with a friend, I realized that some people may not have attended many funerals and a lot of people may not have had the opportunity to feel the enjoyment of the event.  Don't misunderstand me.  I do grieve each person mentioned.  I am still grieving some of them.  But, in the end, God is love and it is important to enjoy his love with the living.  So, next time you face the death of a loved one, I hope you can remember my story and enjoy remembering the dead.  You're loved one would want you to have good memories, laugh, love one another and walk away knowing they are smiling at you.

I would love for you to give my your comments, share your stories or ask me questions.  I hope I have touched you in some way.

The Joy in Funerals

Funerals have provided some of the best family memories I have. I know that sounds strange. Maybe I just have a crazy family. Maybe I'm onto something here. Maybe both?

I have attended many funerals in my life. Each one is a unique memory for me. Most have a common thread of enjoyment. I know, that is not a word you would normally relate to funeral attendance. Just consider for a moment that the deceased would love for you to enjoy the celebration of their life and the time you spend with family and friends recounting your favorite stories of them. In the following paragraphs, I will recount some of the funerals I have attended and how they have touched my life and in many ways, changed me...for the better.

William Joseph Frey (Pop Frey):

The first funeral I remember is my Mom's father, Pop Frey (or Papa Frey). I was 9 when he died of complications relating to cerosis of the liver. This funeral confused me. I didn't fully understand death at that age and was taking it all in. My Dad seem to have taken it the hardest, which seemed strange to me because it was my Mom's Dad that died. Dad cried through the ceremony and sobbed out loud. I was so upset that I couldn't comfort him, so I cried uncontrollably too. My Uncle Audrey (C.A.) consoled me and tried to help me understand. I am sure we had the traditional meal after the cemetary service, but I don't remember that part. What I do remember is the photos that were taken that day. The pictures of Mama Frey (Mom's Mother) are among some of my all time favorites. There was a lot of sadness that day, but the love shown in the pictures surpasses the sadness. I am grateful for the time I had with my grandfather and I still love to share memories of him with my family.

Ashley Diane Loveless:

The hardest thing I have ever faced is the death of our daughter, Ashley. She was born with a heart defect and only lived 17 hours. She died in our arms, dressed in a beautiful christening dress the loving nurses provided. We held a graveside service for her at Cheatham Hill Memorial in a section they call Baby Land. I remember how haunting it was to hear them say they had a dedicated section of the cemetery just for babies. There were more people there that I could count and I was touched that so many came. After the service, family and friends returned to our house to eat. The smart nurses who cared for me had me on pain medication, so parts of that day are quite fuzzy. But, I do remember laughing at all of the "old women" like my Mom and Mother-in-Law sneaking cigarettes in the back bedroom. They thought they could open the window, blow the smoke out and no one would know they were smoking. Sounds like something I once tried as a teenager. Their silly antics brought some comic relief in our time of grief. It makes me chuckle now.

Blaun D. Frey (Mama Frey):

Mama Frey's passing was a very sad event in our family. I remember my Mom, Aunt, Cousins and I standing at the casket saying our final goodbyes. The sobs sounded so foreign and the grief would have been overwhelming without one another to cling to. In contrast, some of my favorite family memories revolve around the meal after the ceremonies. I pulled a prank on my cousin Dean that still makes me smile today. He forgot to get a drink and left the table to get one. Then he realized he forgot a fork. When he got up to get one, I took his drink. The look on his face when he saw his drink missing was priceless, full of confusion and slow realization. Laughter erupted around the table. Of course, he got me back. The whole afternoon was filled with joking and laughter. Mama Frey's funeral was the most emotional one I have attended. She was one awesome woman, the best granny (she's slap me for that) and I miss her still.

Jim Gabrielson:

The night before I delivered Ashley, Jim came to visit me in the hospital. The nurse mistook him for my husband when she came in the room to check the monitor leads on my belly. She threw back all of the covers and there I was in all my glory! She quickly realized her mistake. We laughed so hard they almost had to remove the monitors until I could stop laughing. For years, Jim and I laughed and shared that story with others. One day, when Jim was 42, he was playing soccer and suddenly died on the field. As I sat through his funeral, I couldn't help but cry and laugh at the same time. We shared some good times together, Jim.

Mayme B. Astin (Mama Astin):

Mama Astin was my Dad's Mom. She was in her 90's when she died. This funeral was particularly difficult for me because it wasn't too long after Ashley died. I don't remember a lot from that day, but I do have some outstanding memories of her life. She was very short, but that shouldn't fool you, she could get quite mean. Once, she told her caretaker that she was going to knock her out, drag her to the field across the street and set it on fire. She could hardly even walk, much less do anyone any harm. That story still cracks me up. Mama Astin was a loving, mischievous, beautiful jokester. She could get pretty mean sometimes. I'm nothing like her...haha!

Dean Frey:

Dean died unexpectedly in a single car accident. My knees buckled and I lost my breath when Mom called me to tell me what happened. His funeral was just awful. Sadness was felt by everyone. Dean was the first of all of the cousins in our family to die and we all took it hard. The family gathered before and after the funeral at Uncle Audrey and Aunt Jo's house. We did shed a lot of tears. We also reconnected with family friends we hadn't see in 20+ years. Dean was a big ole teddy bear and hysterically funny. Memories of him and the stories told that day still bring a smile to my face.

As mentioned earlier, I have attended numerous funerals in my young life. As this blog is getting a little too long for most people to want to continue reading, I have decided to divide the "Funerals" post into two parts. The ones I haven't talked about yet deserve more attention that one would want to pay at this point. I hope you have enjoyed reading this one. I also hope it makes you think of all of the wonderful memories you have of important loved ones who have passed on. See you in part II.

Love: Share it

Every person is uniquely made.  I believe God made each of us perfectly and just the way he wanted us to be.  He gives gifts and abilities in exclusive combinations to each of us.  Some of these things change as we mature, get older and life situations alter.  Whether you know it or not, you do have God given, special attributes.

One of my gifts is the gift of LOVE.  I LOVE.  I LOVE my family, my friends, strangers, animals, nature, etc...  The list goes on and on.  I often show my love through acts of kindness, words of encouragement or cooking.   The people that I show LOVE to know that I LOVE them, but I don't think they know how much I LOVE them.  No matter how hard I try, how much I cook or how kind I am, my loved ones cannot fathom the extreme amount of LOVE I feel in my heart and soul.  These acts just don't express it completely.

I LOVE my husband with my life and so much more.  When I was a struggling young girl, having gone through a lot of turmoil, I asked God consistently to bring a man into my life that would LOVE me like He says I am supposed to be loved. One that would never abuse me, leave me or hurt me.  One that would love me no matter what, for who I am and never want me to be anyone but who I am.  My husband is that man.  He is the answer to my prayers.  He is God's gift to me.  I LOVE our life together.  It is tough.  We have struggles.  Like every other couples, we have our moments.  But neither of us ever has to wonder if we can make it together.  What a blessing that comfort, commitment, realization and LOVE is.  The LOVE I have for this man consumes me.  I wish he could feel what I feel so he would know how much I LOVE him.

My children are the delight of my life.  It was difficult to have children for us.  We went through a lot.  In the end, we were blessed with two sublime daughters.  They are as different as night and day, yet both are beautiful, smart, godly girls.  They too are LOVED beyond belief.  How do you express the LOVE that completely fills you up from head to toe?  Whatever the words are for that, I LOVE my girls that much and so much more.

In my forty years, I have been blessed with some really good friends and some that I thought were my friends and ended up hurting me.  We won't focus on the latter even though, in my own way, I LOVE them too.  There are so many special friends who have all played important roles in my life.  They may not even realize how significant their friendship has been to me.

Twenty-seven years ago, I met my first "best" friend.  We lost touch for a few years, but I never gave up the LOVE I have for her.  "Sam," I LOVED you all that time and I still LOVE ya girl.

The one friend I know will still be my friend until the day we die came into my life when I was 11 years old.  As we have aged, our friendship has grown to a level that I don't think "friendship" quite does it justice.  "Chris," I cannot express with words how much I LOVE you girl.  Thank you for liking this country bumpkin despite how everyone else felt.  Thank you for the blind date that is now the LOVE of my life.  Thank you for all the other things we have shared that I don't have enough space to mention here.  I LOVE you beyond comprehension.  We have fun together despite the garbage life dumps on us, don't we?

When I think of friendships that I have been blessed with in my adulthood, I feel lucky to have so many names come to mind.  There are so many Godly women in my life that bring such joy and happiness to me.  I couldn't possibly name every single one, but there are a few that must be named.  T-Cakes, you are fabulous (haha!).  Our friendship had a strange beginning that can only be seen as one of those "gifts" from God that makes you scratch your head.  You taught me that girls can fix anything life throws at us by sharing a glass of wine.  Nadean, you have reminded me not to take myself so seriously and focus on the good.  I can't even explain how God brought us together.  I know that even when I haven't talked to you in a while, you are right there when I call.  You are one awesome chick that taught me that my "Patti-ness" is ok even if I can't seem to use a cold remedy properly.  Oh, Mimi, aren't we the unusual pair!  How do I even begin to explain how our friendship works?  I really can't except to say it just does.  We have struggled together, carrying each other through fires and rejoicing on the mountaintops together.  What started out as a line drawn in the sand has metamorphasisized into loving support and true friendship that I feel so blessed to participate in.  I learned the lie behind "but" and so much more because of you.  I don't say it enough "but" I expect a smart girl like you to know I LOVE you, though you can't fathom how much.  Then there's "Neesie".  Neesie, YOU ROCK!  There are not enough words in all the languages in the world to express all the ways I LOVE you.  You inspire me with your devotion to children.  I just don't even know what else to say except I LOVE you and "T" and miss you both like crazy.

I can go on and on naming the ones that mean so much to me.  I wish for every single person that I LOVE to know in their hearts that they are a special gift from God in my eyes.  Aunts, Uncles, Cousins, Friends, Customers and especially my siblings...there is no way for you know how much I LOVE you.  You know I LOVE you, you just don't realize how much. 

God brought me into this world as the daughter of a fantastic Mom.  She is loving, mean, compassionate, honest, giving, supportive, mean and the hardest working woman I have ever known.  Mom, I LOVE you.  I worry about you.  I pray for you.  I LOVE you.  Thank you for...well, EVERYTHING.  You taught me to be strong, honest, loving and yes, mean.  I hope you are pleased with the woman, wife, mom, friend, sister and daughter I have become.

You see, the word LOVE is simple.  The emotion behind it varies from person to person.  The emotion behind my "I LOVE YOU" is strong and bigger than anything else in this world.  The Bible says "God is LOVE."  I believe that with my whole being.   Named here or not, the people I LOVE should know that my LOVE is unfathomable because it is through God, who is LOVE.  Can you grasp even a smidge of how much LOVE that must be?

LOVE ya, mean it!