Anniversary of Sorts

4th of July, 1980.

We were living in Montrose, Colorado.
Eric and I drove up to Ouray to wander around and then watch the fireworks. Back then (not sure if they do it now) people sat somewhere in the valley while the fireworks were set off from the side of the mountain above. You could sit anywhere in town and watch, the view was great.

We sat on a blanket on the hood of the car and leaned against the windshield. 

Had a Buick sailboat. 
Can't remember what kind, half a minute while I look it up. 
Ah. Electra. Big and black and super comfy.

While we watched the fireworks we started talking about what things would be like after we were married. 

There was no big proposal, no fanfare. Well, unless you count the fireworks.

He bought me a ring that day. 
It had a black diamond, or should say 'has'. I can't wear it now, my fingers, like the rest of me, are no longer small and elegant. It's on the chain with my family tree necklace and I wear it every day.

That was July 4th.
It wasn't even four months later that we were married.
November 1st that same year.

I had no concept of the future, or what it would look like, but I knew who I wanted to be with.

45 years went by awfully fast.

Also in my mailbox...

I received a nice Christmas card from Jeffrey's family. It was one of the kind where you upload a bunch of different photos and they make the cards for you. I appreciated receiving the card. Jeffrey is one of the outspoken, assertive kids who says what he thinks as soon as he thinks it.
He and his little sister are adorable kids and his parents were so kind to me. They're one of the families I really miss.

Speaking of kids I miss..
Jennifer sent me a card, too.

It was quite obvious that her mother gave her the card and some stickers and a pen and told her to go for it.

Of course I can't stop by, even if it would be okay with the school it would not serve any good purpose. Of course my current program time coincides with my old program time, too. Can't be in two places at once.

I had considered stopping in at the front office of my old school to say hello, but even the idea of it made my eyes fill with tears and I got that sad feeling in my tummy. So I guess I'm not quite ready to do that, either.

It did make me feel loved to get that card, though.

Another day...

I've been asked by some kids and lots of adults how Eric and I 'celebrate' February 14th.

Short answer... we don't.
Long answer... we do... every day.

Both of us make an effort to do something nice/considerate/loving for the other not once in awhile, not once in a day, but multiple times every day.

We call each other on the phone to talk about something we heard on the news, something interesting we saw on our commute, an idea about doing something on the weekend.

Every day begins with hugs. Every day ends with hugs.

Eric usually gets home from work sooner than I do, at least during the winter months when it gets dark early.

He calls me at work to find out if there's anything he can do to start my dinner. We don't generally eat the same meals during the week... he likes a bigger meal and is able to tolerate things with spices and tomato sauce and other reflux triggers much better than I can.

I try to eat my largest meal in the afternoon before work and usually end up eating something smaller in the evenings.

But he'll brown some hamburger for me, or boil some noodles or whatever. But he calls me every day to find out if I need/want him to do that.

During the winter, when I come home from work, the heater under the kitchen table is on. He knows I'll be sitting here and wants it to be comfortable.
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He spends the summer finding and hauling wood home from jobs. He makes sure it's all cut and split and stacked and ready to keep us warm all winter. If he lived alone, he wouldn't bother. He'd sit in a couple layers of clothes and maybe use a blanket.

He goes to work every day. He may feel crappy, and about 90% of the time he hates his job, but he goes every day. He is taking care of his family with that paycheck. And that's a thing that's more important to him than anything else.

He is always putting his family first. Always.

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We don't exchange gifts. We did for a time back in the early days of our marriage, but without really discussing it we agreed to stop. We don't even do cards unless it's hand made. We leave notes for each other, most of which have content unsuitable for people outside the relationship. :)

I know how fortunate I am to have the man and the marriage I have. That's the other thing... we appreciate each other.

So no candy, no cards, no flowers, no jewelry. No reason for Eric to have to prove his love for me by some display on a specific day. I know it every day.

Valentines and Busy-ness and Romance of the best kind

We've been making all kinds of things using hearts and glittery paint and folded paper. The kids are excited, but their excitement is tempered a bit by the fact that they're no longer allowed treats in their classrooms.

That's right. It used to be 'no home made' but has now gone district-wide to no treats at all, even if they're store bought.

The reason given is that there might be an undiagnosed peanut allergy and no one wants to take any chances with that. I don't know if that's the real reason or not.

So I'm stopping at the grocery store tomorrow and grabbing some carrots and celery already cut up (I'm not allowed to do that under my day care license) and will serve those with ranch dip. Big treat, huh? But of course better for them than cupcakes and crap.

I did buy valentines for them, and some tootsie roll pops that I'll tape onto the envelopes. I'll hand those out as they go home.

I have a four day weekend coming up.

Friday is a school district budget reduction day, meaning no school buildings will be open and we will not be offering any program. Monday is President's day, but we had such a small group of children signed up for it that our program for that day has been canceled.

The majority of kids signed up came from my site, so I get to have the joy of informing parents that they're going to have to make other arrangements for day care on Monday.

I think most of them will be okay with it, but one of the families will not. They won't be angry with me, but they will have a hard time finding a place for their child. That child doesn't adapt well to change.

So nothing much exciting going on for me.

There was a story featured on our local news this morning, and I thought it was sweet enough to pass on. I went to the mom's website and read more about her lovely daughter and the challenges and joy in raising her, and wanted to pass on the link. The mom is asking for valentines to be sent to her daughter and new husband, both of whom have special needs.

It's a sweet story, and perfect for this romantic day. Please go visit, and send an email if you don't want to or can't send a real paper valentine.

Lindsey and Nick

First Date

Coupla blogs I read recently have inspired me to write about the first date Eric and I had.

It's not a pretty story.
And you may wonder about our sanity after reading.

If that does not scare you, then feel free to keep reading.
Of course, if it makes you a little nervous, maybe come back with meds on board. :)

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First, I met Eric on my 18th birthday. In high school.
And I was dating someone else, but I remember thinking he was the best looking guy I'd ever seen.

Fast forward. Because to tell the story right would take too long and I'm tired, I have a fever and a snotty nose, and I want to go to bed early. I woke up at 3:40 this morning and haven't rested much since then.

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So he asked me out. I said yes.
And we went to the drive in movies. Don't know anyone from that generation who went to the movies to watch the movie... we were no different.

We took his dad's car. Sat in the front seat. It was October in Colorado, and not warm. After we visited the concession stand (Draped all over each other... and the gum-chewing bimbette behind the counter said stupidly, "Are you guys brother and sister?") we went back to the car and I mentioned that I was cold.

He grabbed a blanket out of the back seat and covered us up.
Speaking of covered, the blanket was covered with DEER HAIR... they'd been hunting the weekend before and brought the deer home in the car.

No, there was no blood on it. Or at least none I noticed.

My favorite fuzzy fleecy black shirt I'd worn to look cute and sexy was now a lot more fuzzy than when I'd started the evening.

I'm not sure if I was still sexy after the hair covering.

He was embarrassed and apologetic.
I found it humorous and not that big a deal... I'd grown up in a hunting family, you see.

And we survived that date. And a whole lot of other ones. We dated a year before we got married, although we decided about seven months into our relationship that we were going to be married someday.

I have no idea what the movie was that night. I don't think we looked at the screen even once.

And I still think he's the best looking guy I've ever seen.
Although we do avoid things with deer hair on them.

And we don't have to hide the fact that we've had sex from anyone. The proof that we've done it only twice is quite evident. We named them Matt and Alyssa.

Doesn't this little story just warm your heart?
:)

And another year...

31 years ago today I said, "I do." in a very traditional wedding ceremony. Church and prayers and white dress and flowers and friends.

If I had it to do over, I wouldn't have done the whole church wedding etc, but I don't regret it. It worked for who I was then and was loaded with the only symbols 19 year old me understood.

I'd still marry Eric today. It's been a wonderful life with him. Yeah, sometimes a roller coaster ride... things get better, then worse, then better, then worse... but those are outside factors.

Between us, things have stayed mostly the same. He's still my best friend. The person whose company I prefer to that of any other person. All the stuff that has been thrown at us by life has been easier to handle because I know he has my back. And I have his.

There's no way to put into words how much our love has grown, how much depth there is to my feelings about this amazing man, or to explain how happy I've been. Every time I try, what I write is just so... plain compared to how I feel. I can't explain what a wonderful husband he is. What a great father. What a staunch and true friend.

So I'll stop here and just spend another day being grateful that I am spending my life with this guy.

Toys.

We're required encouraged by our corporation to have some sort of ongoing community service thing in our programs.

It's not because they're terribly interested in helping humanity, but they love corporate gestures that cost nothing and look good. Not that there's anything wrong with that, I just don't want anyone to think it's corporate altruism, because I'm pretty sure no such animal exists.

However, it works for me, because of my whole 'try to do something decent when I can' thing.

I was doing my regular morning surfing last week when I found this link on one of the news stations.

Tucker's Toybox 

I went and read the story, corresponded with Tucker's mom and decided that our community service project this year at my site would be this one.

I think it's something the kids would really be happy and proud to participate in, and something the parents would easily understand and be willing to donate to. I've even thought I might try to get the school on board with the project and make it an even larger thing.

This quote got me:
"Tucker's Toybox was his idea to bring a brightly decorated and fully stuffed toybox right into the hospital rooms. Giving each child a chance to escape the stressfulness of treatment thru the enjoyment and simple pleasures of play."

So this year, when my mom or my kids or a friend asks me what I want for my birthday or for Christmas, I know the answer.
Toys.
I want toys.
New ones.
In bright and exciting packages.
That kids would love to have. 

There are so many charities out there that have a board of directors and paid staff and take in so much money... then pay out a small percentage of what they take to the actual need.

I'm so touched by the idea of Tucker's mom taking a load of toys to the hospital every month. What a sweet thing to do. And such a lovely way of remembering her son. It sounds like he was really a neat kid.

Do you celebrate?

Eric and I don't exchange gifts.

Not birthdays, anniversaries, Christmas... we figure we both have everything we need/want.

I don't buy into the whole 'give me jewelry and flowers and prove you love me' commercialism of Valentine's day or any other big commercial holiday, either.

I think it's demeaning to women in general to follow the suggestions all over the television and the radio that a man must prove his love by buying gifts. (and why is it that the ads are about a guy giving stuff to a girl... not the other way 'round? The whole enterprise feels highly suspicious to me.)

I'm not a very good consumer, am I? So V-day is sort of, well, not all that important to me in the general scheme of things. I picked up some candy for the kids, but they don't really care too much either.

You may recall that I recently had shoulder surgery. (yeah, I know... there may be someone in Kurdistan who does not know, otherwise the whole world does.)

And my man drove me to and from the surgery center on the day of the operation, took two days off work after the surgery, as well as checking in by calling Lyssa for updates about 5 times a day after he went back to work.

He washed my armpits, dressed me, did my laundry, cooked meals for me, did all the grocery shopping for weeks.

There wasn't a single thing he wasn't willing to do for me then or now.

Or ever.

He has taken care of my needs above his own for more than 29 years now.

I don't need roses or candy to know exactly how much I'm loved.

And nothing I could give him would even show a fraction of how much I adore the man.
We celebrate love every day. :)

lonely

My baby is visiting her grandparents this week. They came over for a visit on Easter weekend, and she decided to go home with them. I'm so happy she's homeschooled and has the flexibility to just make choices like that when she wants to.

Of course, *I* am tied to the public school schedule with my JOB... but if the opportunity arose for us to go do a family vacation (HA HA HA!! VACATION!! HA! We last had one of those in 1996!!!) I could get away.

When I get up in the morning, Lyssa isn't in her room. She's not here. When I get ready to run to the grocery store, and I want to know if she wants to come with me or wants me to pick anything up for her, she's not here. When I want to hug her before I go to sleep at night, she's not here. I do get to talk to her at night... but she's not here.
::sigh::

I miss her.

She'll be home on Monday. I'm counting the hours.

What did I do?

I've mentioned my incredibly generous friend Tami more than once. She's a very kind person. Always smiling. HUGE heart. I have never met anyone like her before.

She called me the other day wanting to drop off my Christmas gift. Well, it's not that I don't appreciate it. But gee whiz. My birthday was only two weeks ago. You may recall that she made her whole family come sing to me... AND gave me a present.

It's really not necessary to give me even one thing. But here I am with not only a birthday gift from her, but a Christmas present as well. I don't know why she is so nice to me. I have a hint about where some of her generous spirit came from, though.

Yesterday, my telephone rang. It was Tami.
"At the risk of sounding redundant, " she said, "We're going to be in your neighborhood. My mom sent you a gift in the package she sent to us."

A few minutes later, the van pulled up in front. She got out and handed me the beautiful afghan you see in the picture. Her mother made it. FOR ME. Let me tell ya, the picture in no way does it justice. There's a subtle chevron pattern worked into it, and it's perfect in every way. It's absolutely beautiful. The color is my favorite shade of blue. It's soft, and warm, and it's very special. I'll treasure it.

Now you need to understand. Tami's dad passed away this year after a long illness, and her mom isn't in the best of health. She's lonely, not feeling her best, and for the most part, all by herself in a state far away from this one. But she asked Tami what my favorite color is and spent I have no idea how much time making me an afghan. Stitch by stitch. It boggles the mind. I have no idea what I've done to deserve such a kindness.

You can bet that Tami's mom will be getting a very heartfelt thank-you from me.

I'm teary-eyed as I type this.